The Queen of Mages (53 page)

But she shook her head and looked back.
Francine was staring blankly into space, and after a moment both
she and Amira grimaced, clenching their teeth. Garen snorted,
grinning. Dardan stewed, mystified by their private shared
language.

His silent ire was interrupted by loud,
booted steps from the grand staircase ahead of them. Down the
stairs came a young man wearing fine white furs over a gray mantle.
He had long, pale blond hair that fell around his shoulders, and
eyes an even darker gray than Amira’s.

He stopped for a moment, looking over his
visitors, them came down the last steps quickly. “You must be Count
Tarian,” he said.

“Count Bahodir, I presume,” Dardan replied,
bowing as befit an equal.
Equal? Ha! He has an actual realm to
govern.

“This must be your lady wife,” Razh Bahodir
said, taking her hand and bowing slightly. Up close, his face
seemed bony and misshapen, but there was a keenness behind his
eyes. Mostly, Dardan was astonished at how young Razh looked. The
count was roughly of an age with Dardan; the previous Count Bahodir
had died a few years earlier.

Amira smiled obligingly, but her eyes were
as icy as the air outside. “My lord,” she said. “Thank you for your
hospitality.”

“Not at all,” Razh said. His voice betrayed
no nervousness. “You all look quite weary. Perhaps some refreshment
is in order.”

Razh watched them intently as his house
major ushered them all into a sitting room, decorated with such
detail that Dardan almost forgot they were in a fortress, not a
manse or country house. Iris eyed the walls carefully, presumably
searching for murder-holes to mirror the ones they’d been ambushed
with in Seawatch.

The young mages stood around awkwardly for a
moment, until Count Bahodir came in behind them and insisted that
everyone sit, as they were all his guests. He watched the mages
carefully, though, never turning his eyes away, and after a moment
his mouth quirked into a smile. But he said nothing else until food
and drink were brought in, a blessedly short time later. The
tension in the air utterly suppressed Dardan’s appetite.

“Well. I have been looking forward to your
arrival for quite some time,” Count Bahodir said.

“And why is that?” Dardan said. He almost
wished Razh
would
ambush them or something; the anticipation
was driving him mad.

Razh gave a toothy grin and turned his head
to the side.

All the mages gasped, and in a moment Dardan
realized what it must be: Count Razh Bahodir was also a mage.
The silver light! No wonder he faced us the whole time.

Razh laughed. “I would have preferred to
demonstrate more directly, but alas, I do not want to destroy the
room my beloved house major has spent so much effort
decorating.”

“How long—?” Amira stuttered, still
recovering from her amazement.

“Since early autumn. I had the most dreadful
headaches, and then I could see this, this sort of
fire
in
my mind. It took me some time to figure out how to use it, and I
nearly burned down the stables when I did.”

“The headaches seem to be common to all of
us,” Amira said. “They last a few weeks, and then the power
manifests—oh, we have so much to discuss!”

Dardan’s jaw set.
Another
distraction.
Amira was elated, of course. Would they ever be
able to spend time as husband and wife again? Were they doomed to
endlessly roam Garova, building up an army until battle became
inevitable? Dark clouds came over him, and he drummed his fingers
absently on the table as Amira and Razh and the other mages all
talked shop. Dardan stole a glance at Iris, who had fixed Bahodir
with an annoyed stare. Perhaps Iris was upset by finding another
noble who was a mage, as if nobles should not be sullied by such
misfortune. For once, he sympathized with the man.

After some time, Count Razh addressed
Dardan. “My lord, you and I have much to discuss as well. Perhaps
we should retire separately for a time.” He stood up, and everyone
else did as well, although Dardan’s petulance got the better of
him, and he waited until last to stand. If Razh noticed, he didn’t
show it. He addressed all the others. “Please feel free to rest
here. My house major will arrange rooms for you all.” He turned to
Dardan. “If you are ready?”

Dardan nodded curtly, and followed Razh from
the room, Razh’s aged
valo
trailing behind. Dardan still
missed the presence of his own
valo
, but said nothing. Liam
was a hardy man; Dardan still held hope that they would meet
again.

He wondered what Razh wanted. Mage or not,
any ruler worth his salt knew how to play the game. Count Bahodir
might seek to control them, or threaten them… Dardan steeled
himself as they came into Razh’s office and settled into supple
leather chairs. Razh left his
valo
outside.

“You’re a brave man, Tarian. Fighting a king
cannot be easy, magic powers or no.”

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to fight
him,” Dardan said.

“No? Isn’t that your goal? To put together
enough of us—‘mages,’ I like that word. I assumed your plan was to
put together enough mages to try to overthrow Edon.”

“My plan? This was all my lady wife’s idea.
You’d have to ask her.” Dardan could feel the anger in his own
voice, but he could not fight it down.

Razh paused for a moment before continuing.
“Ah. Well at least you have the excuse that no one has ever
assembled an army of mages before.” He grinned. “I shan’t press you
any more on that topic, then. If you would, tell me how you came to
be here.”

Dardan made a quick sketch of their journey
since Hedenham, and glanced down at his marriage rings as he spoke.
One true, one borrowed. Dardan clasped his hands together to keep
from tapping them on the armrests, and changed the subject. “May I
ask, how long have you been the count?”

“Nearly five years,” Razh said. “Old Patric
there was my da’s
valo
, and my father passed just as I
turned sixteen. I kept Patric on rather than try to find someone
closer to my age, although I suppose Patric will retire eventually,
and then I’ll have to find a new
valo
anyway. A good
valo
’s worth his weight in gold, father always said.”

Dardan snorted. “Don’t let my Liam hear you
say that, if you ever meet him. He’d get even more insolent than he
already is.” His cheer drained away almost instantly. “Forgive me,
but I’m weary after our travels.”

“Of course, of course. Rest is of paramount
importance.” He nodded sagely, which looked absurd on a man so
young, but he’d been ruling a county on his own since Dardan was
still mooning over that farrier’s daughter. “Well, we can concern
ourselves with logistics later. For now, you are my guests, and I
would be most pleased to host you and your party here through
Wintergift, at the very least.”

Dardan blinked. “That’s all?”

“What’s all?”

“I… forgive me, but I had expected you to…
demand something of us.”

Razh drew back, astonished. “Dear me. Is
that how things are played in Thorncross? Counts in competition
with one another?”

“Well, it depends on the counts. My father
was never very fond of—never mind. Surely you must realize the
importance of your—of mages,” Dardan said. “The world will change a
great deal.”

“No doubt, but I already have my hands full
with the usual duties of ruling a county. I haven’t the time or
inclination to engage in some sort of… machinations! I’m simply
pleased to find myself in the presence of a group of people my own
age.”

“Come again?”

“My sisters are five and ten years older
than me, and they still treat me like their little brother, even
though I am their lord. I have distant cousins my own age but they
are far away. You saw Patric; he’s as old as my father was. You and
your wife and the other mages are my own cohort. Age-wise.” He
stood and came around the desk to face Dardan directly. “You’ve
nothing to fear here, I promise. It seems that I am in as much
danger from our king as you and your friends are. I cannot say I’ve
heard terribly much about House Tarian, but what I have heard is
all good. I cannot say the same for Edon. Nothing would please me
more than to host you here, and I swear there is no ulterior motive
to it.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Dardan said
automatically.

Razh laughed. “No, no, think nothing of it.
This place is half-empty most of the time, with our ancestors all
gone to join the Caretaker.” He hesitated for a moment as a sadness
flickered across his features. “I mentioned my sisters; they live
here as well. Both unmarried, but don’t get any ideas.” His grin
had returned. “I’m sure they’ll be as glad of the company as I
am.”

They went back downstairs. Afternoon turned
to evening, and Razh treated the entire party, even the commoners,
to a fine dinner in the castle’s great hall. He seemed to consider
them all his new brothers and sisters, and did not stand on his
station.

A chilly bedchamber was secured for Dardan
and Amira. His desire to get a good night’s rest in a real bed
butted up against his expectation of Amira’s cold shoulder. She
hadn’t smiled at him once the whole day, and made no attempt at
conversation as they dressed for bed. That put Dardan in an even
worse mood, so he merely said a brusque good night and climbed
under the blankets.

———

“Remembrance is always quite festive in
Elland,” Count Razh said over breakfast the next morning. “We work
hard in Barrowmere County, and the people deserve their
rewards.”

Dardan and Amira spent the days of
Remembrance relaxing in the relative luxury of Count Razh’s castle.
The count was fond of creature comforts and made sure that the
Tarians and all their party could enjoy them as well. Even Iris
seemed to relax a little, which meant that when he stood stoically
against the wall, his hand was
not
on his sword.

The days remained chilly, but the denizens
of Elland wasted no time in decorating for Wintergift. Pine trees
were raised at every large intersection, decorated with the
traditional strings of beads and dried beans and fruits. Smoked
sausages hung from the branches, and every night, torch-bearing
crowds gathered around the trees to dance and drink and eat and
sing songs recounting events of the year just past. The mood was
contagious, and even Dardan needed little encouragement from his
wife to venture out and join the festivities. The other mages
trailed along like a family of ducklings.

The crowds grew as the five days of
Remembrance wore on. On Wintergift Eve, Count Razh hosted a banquet
in his great hall, and dozens of merchants and guildmasters and
barons of Barrowmere County were invited. Dardan and Amira were the
honored guests, and Francine and Garen and the other mages were
given places at the high table. Count Razh even cajoled Warden Iris
into sitting and enjoying himself. Dardan found it easy to ignore
the stares and whispers of the guests, some of whom he suspected
had come only to see whether mages really did have horns and
leathery wings—so went one of the more absurd rumors.

At midnight, a series of deep
clang
s
reverberated in the air, bells sounding at temples across the city.
Dardan had gone through several cups of wine, and so only hesitated
a moment before he swept Amira into his arms and buried her
laughter in a kiss.

Embraces were exchanged all around, even
between strangers. Dardan kissed Francine and Sophie and a baroness
and a merchant’s wife. He felt only a little jealous when Amira
kissed Vincent and Count Razh and even Razh’s grumpy old
valo
.

Wintergift saw their whole party trooping
through the streets in the sharp morning sunlight. Count Razh led
the way, hurling handfuls of coppers and candies at the children
who swarmed around them. A last gasp of autumn warmth had all but
cleared the streets of snow. Dardan’s nostrils tingled at the sea
breezes. The new year had dawned, and winter had finally come, if
only in name.

Amira tugged at his arm as they walked.
“Dearest, I have something for you.” She reached into a pocket of
the fur-lined cloak Count Razh had gifted to her and withdrew a
tiny box wrapped in silver thread.

Dardan gaped, feeling embarrassment and
surprise. He hadn’t even thought to get his wife a gift. They’d
been on the road so long, on the run from Edon, that the idea of
properly celebrating Wintergift had never crossed his mind. “Amira,
my love, I—I didn’t—when did you—”

She laughed. “Stop floundering about and
open it!”

He took the box and undid the thread. Inside
he found a small figurine, half shining silver and half polished
jade. It was in the shape of a northern mastiff.

Amira clasped his free hand in hers. “The
mastiff for our house. Silver for the mines, green jade for the
fields and farms. The wealth of Hedenham, our county. It will be
returned to us. I swear it.”

Pangs of memory struck him. Dardan let
himself breathe until he felt steadier. He wanted nothing more than
to return to Hedenham, and take his rightful place as count, but…
Was this meant as a peace offering, to mend the rift between them?
How was a trinket supposed to salve that wound? “Thank you,” he
said at last. Amira smiled broadly and leaned up to give him a
kiss, then turned to attend to Count Razh as he pointed out some
guild hall up ahead. Dardan felt like throwing the little mastiff
into a gutter, but slipped it into his own cloak’s pocket
instead.

———

He received a significantly more welcome
gift when they returned to the keep. A man and a woman waited
patiently in the entry hall, and it took Dardan a moment to
recognize them.

“Liam,” he breathed. Amira shrieked and ran
forward, clutching her
vala
in a tearful hug that Katin just
as eagerly returned.