The High Lord (17 page)

Sonea nodded. She took a step toward the door, then stopped and bowed.

“Good night, High Lord.”

His stare was unwavering. “Good night, Sonea.”

Her heart was pounding again. As she climbed the stairs she realized it was not with fear anymore. It was racing with a strange kind of excitement.

I
might not be helping him in the way I expected,
she thought,
but I am helping.

Then she chuckled ruefully.
But I might not be so happy about that when he starts assisting in my Warrior Skills lessons!

As Rothen waited for the last of his pupils to arrive, he looked out of the window. Longer, warmer days were turning the gardens into a labyrinth of green. Even the gray High Lord’s Residence looked welcoming in the bright morning light.

As he watched, the door to the residence opened. He felt his heart skip as Sonea stepped out. It was a late start for her, he realized. According to Tania, she still rose at dawn.

Then a taller figure emerged, and Rothen felt his entire body tense. The folds of Akkarin’s black robes were almost gray in the bright sunlight. The High Lord turned to Sonea and spoke. Her lips curled up into a small smile. Then the pair straightened and started toward the University, their expressions sober again. Rothen watched them until they moved out of sight.

Turning away from the window, he shivered. A chill had caught hold of him, and wouldn’t let go.

She had
smiled
at Akkarin.

It had not been a polite, forced smile. Nor an open, unguarded smile. It had been sly and secretive.

No,
he told himself.
I’m just seeing that which I most fear because it’s what I’m always watching for. She was probably smiling to deceive or mollify Akkarin. Or perhaps she had found some comment he made amusing, was enjoying a little joke at his expense…

But what if she hadn’t been ? What if there’s another reason?

“Lord Rothen?”

Turning, he saw that the rest of the class had arrived and were patiently waiting for him to begin. He managed a rueful smile, then moved toward the desk.

He could not charge out of the classroom and demand an explanation from Sonea. No, for now he must put her out of his mind and concentrate on teaching. But later he would consider carefully what he had seen.

And watch her more closely.

As the carriage pulled away, Dannyl strode up to the door of Dem Marane’s house and pulled on the bell cord.

He yawned, then drew on a little magic to soothe away weariness. A week had passed since Tayend had shown him the book, and many secret meetings had been held with Ambassador Errend and other Elyne magicians in preparation for this night. Now they would know if their plans would he successful.

Footsteps drew close to the door, then it opened and the master of the house bowed gracefully.

“Ambassador Dannyl. A pleasure to see you again. Please come in.”

“Thank you.” Dannyl stepped inside.

“Where is young Tremmelin?” the Dem asked.

“With his father,” Dannyl replied. ‘They had a family matter to discuss. He sends his regards and said to tell you the book is enlightening and he will finish reading it tonight. I know he would much prefer to be talking to you and your friends than dealing with family business.”

Royend nodded and smiled, but his eyes expressed wariness. “I shall miss his company.”

“How is Farand? No unintended events?” Dannyl asked, letting a hint of anxiousness enter his tone.

“No.” The Dem hesitated. “One intentional one, however. Being young and impatient, he could not resist trying to do something.”

Dannyl let alarm show in his face. “What happened?”

“Just another little fire.” The Dem smiled crookedly. “I had to buy his host another bed.”

“The same hosts as last time?”

“No. Once again, I have moved Farand. I felt it prudent, for all our sakes, to move him away from the city, in case his little accidents grew so dramatic they started to draw unwanted attention.”

Dannyl nodded. “That was wise, though probably unnecessary. I hope he is not too far away. I can only stay a few hours.”

“No, not far,” the Dem assured him.

They had reached the doorway of the next room. Royend’s wife, Kaslie, rose to greet Dannyl.

“Greetings, Ambassador. It is good to see you again. Do you think my brother will learn Control soon?”

“Yes,” Dannyl replied gravely. “Either tonight, or the next time. It will not be long now.”

She nodded, obviously relieved. “I can’t thank you enough for your help.” She turned to Royend. “Best be on your way, then, husband.”

There was a note of resentment in her voice. The Dem’s mouth twitched into a crooked smile. “Farand will be safe soon, my dear.”

Her frown only deepened. Dannyl kept his expression politely neutral. Tayend had observed that Kaslie rarely looked happy and sometimes appeared to be annoyed at her husband. He had guessed that she blamed Royend for her brother’s situation because he had encouraged the young man to develop his abilities.

The Dem ushered Dannyl out of the house to a waiting carriage. It began to move before they had even settled into their seats. The windows were covered.

“For the protection of Farand’s hosts,” the Dem explained. “I may be willing to allow you to know
my
identity and residence, but there are others in the group who are less trusting. They have allowed Farand to stay with them only if I take these precautions.” He paused. “Do you think me a fool for trusting you?”

Dannyl blinked in surprise. He considered the question, then shrugged. “I expected you to take smaller steps. Arrange a few tests of my honesty, perhaps. But you couldn’t; Farand needed help. You took a risk, but I’m sure it was a calculated one.” He chuckled. “You would have had a few escape routes in place, and probably still have.”

“And you have Tayend to protect.”

“Yes.” Dannyl smiled good-naturedly. “What I am waiting to discover is whether I will find myself no longer welcome in your house once I have taught Farand Control?”

The Dem laughed quietly. “You’ll just have to wait and find out.”

“And I expect I don’t have to remind you of all the wonderful things I could teach Farand, once he has learned Control.”

Royend’s gaze brightened. “Please do.”

For the next hour they discussed uses of magic. Dannyl took care to describe only what was possible, not how it was done, and the Dem was obviously aware he was being deliberately evasive. Finally, the carriage slowed to a stop.

The Dem waited until the door opened, then gestured for Dannyl to exit. It was dark outside, and Dannyl automatically created a globe light. It illuminated a tunnel, the brick walls glistening with moisture.

“Put that out, please,” the Dem requested.

Dannyl extinguished the light. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s a habit.”

After the brightness of the light, all was utterly dark. A hand touched his shoulder and pushed him forward. Extending his senses, he detected a break in the wall. They moved into it.

“Careful,” Royend murmured. “There are stairs here.”

The toe of Dannyl’s boot met a hard edge. He carefully climbed a steep staircase, then was guided along a passage with many twists, turns and side entrances. Then he sensed a large room and a familiar presence, and the hand slid from his shoulder.

A lamp spluttered into life, revealing several pieces of practical furniture in a room carved out of solid rock. Water trickled from a crack in one wall into a basin, then out through a hole in the floor. The air was cold, and Farand was dressed in a large fur-collared coat.

The young man bowed, his movements more confident now that he was drawing closer to escaping his predicament.

“Ambassador Dannyl,” he said, “welcome to my latest hiding hole.”

“It’s a little cold,” Dannyl remarked. He sent out a glow of magic to warm the air. Farand grinned and shrugged out of the coat. “I used to dream of doing grand and dramatic’ things with magic. Now I think I’ll be happy if all I can do is something like that.”

Dannyl glanced pointedly at Royend. The Dem smiled and shrugged. “Not everyone’s sentiments, I assure you. I’m sure Farand wants to learn more than the basics.”

He was standing beside a rope that hung from a hole in the ceiling. The other end was probably attached to a bell, Dannyl guessed. He wondered who was waiting by it.

“Well,” Dannyl said. “We’d best get started, then. No sense keeping you in cold hiding holes for any longer than necessary.”

Farand moved to a chair and sat down. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and began the calming exercise that he had been taught. When the man’s face had relaxed, Dannyl approached.

“This may be your last lesson,” he said, keeping his voice low and soothing. “It may not. Control must become a well-learned habit, to keep you safe both day and night. It is better to learn it at your own pace, than to hurry it along.” He touched Farand’s temples lightly, “then closed his eyes.

It was impossible to lie effectively during mental communication, but the truth could be hidden. So far Dannyl had kept his mission and ultimate plan to betray the rebels safely concealed. Each time Dannyl had guided Farand mentally, however, the man had grown more used to the method of communication. He was beginning to sense more from Dannyl.

And now that the time had come to arrest the rebels, Dannyl could not conceal a feeling of tension and anticipation. Farand sensed it and grew curious.

—
What are you expecting will happen tonight?
he asked.

—
You will probably achieve Control,
Dannyl replied.

This was true, and part of what Dannyl knew was coming. It was an important enough event that the young man would accept it as the reason for Dannyl’s excitement. But Farand’s awareness of the consequences of learning magic illegally made him more suspicious than usual.

—
There’s more. You’re hiding something from me.

—
Of course,
Dannyl replied. I
will keep much from you, until I know your people are not going to disappear as soon as you have learned Control.

—
The Dem is honorable. He promised to protect Tayend in exchange for your help. He won’t break that promise.

Dannyl felt a momentary sympathy for this naive young man. He pushed it away, reminding himself that Farand might be young, but he was no fool.

—
We’ll see. Now, take me to that place where your power is.

It took less time for Farand to understand the finest nuances of Control than Dannyl had expected. As Farand contemplated his achievement, Dannyl steeled himself for what must come next. He cut into Farand’s jubilant thoughts with a question.

—
Where are we?

An image of a tunnel appeared, then the room they were in. Farand had no more idea of their location than Dannyl did.

—
Who is your host?

Again, Farand didn’t know.

But then, Royend would have guessed that Dannyl might be able to read this information from the young man’s mind, so he would have made sure Farand knew nothing. Hopefully, discovering their location would only involve finding his way out of the passages and seeing where the tunnel emerged.

Farand had caught enough of Dannyl’s thoughts to grow alarmed.

—
What are you… ?

Dannyl removed his hand from Farand’s temples and broke the connection. At the same time, he created a weak shield in case Farand attempted to use his magic. The young man was staring at him.

“It was a trick,” Farand gasped. “It was all a trick.” He turned to Royend. “He means to betray us.”

Royend turned to stare at Dannyl, his expression hardening. As the Dem reached for the bell rope, Dannyl exerted his will. The man snatched his hand back from the sting of a barrier.

Dannyl focussed his mind beyond the room.

—
Errend
?

Farand’s eyes widened as he heard the communication.

—
Dannyl. Do you have the rogue? –

—Yes.

At once, the edges of Dannyl’s senses buzzed with the communications of a dozen magicians, Farand’s eyes roved across the walls as he listened to them.

“They’re arresting the others,” he said. “No! This is all because of me!”

“No, it isn’t,” Dannyl told him. “It is the result of your King misusing a potential magician’s abilities, and your sister’s husband taking advantage of the situation in the hopes of achieving his own aims. I suspect your sister knows this, though I don’t believe she would have betrayed either of you.”

Farand looked at Royend, and Dannyl saw from the accusing look in the young man’s eyes that he was right.

“Don’t try to turn us against each other, Ambassador,” Royend said. “It will not work.”

—
Where are you?
Errend asked.

—I
don’t know exactly. An hour’s carriage ride from the city.
He sent an image of the tunnel.
Look familiar?

—No.

Farand glanced at Dannyl, then back at Royend. “He still doesn’t know where we are,” he said hopefully.

“Finding out will not be difficult,” Dannyl assured him. “And you should know already, Farand, that it is considered rude for a magician to listen in on others’ conversations.”

“We don’t follow your rules,” Royend snapped.

Dannyl turned to regard the Dem. “I’ve noticed.”

The man’s gaze wavered, then he straightened his shoulders. “They will execute us for this. Can you live with that?”

Dannyl held the Dem’s gaze. “You knew what you risked, at every step. If all of what you have done and planned was motivated by the need to protect and save Farand, you might be pardoned. I don’t believe your motives were that honorable, however.”

“No,” the Dem growled. “It wasn’t just Farand. It was the injustice of it all. Why should the Guild decide who can use and teach magic? There are so many whose potential is wasted, who—”

“The Guild does not decide who learns to use magic,” Dannyl corrected. “In Kyralia it is left to each family to decide if their sons or daughters will attend. In Elyne, the King decides who will be taught. Each country has its own system for choosing candidates. We only refuse those whose minds are unstable, or who have committed crimes.”