The Sleeper Sword (72 page)

Torrullin
stared at him.

“Oh, don’t do
that, mate, I’m not intimidated. You know the dream, don’t
you?”

Phet’s head
swivelled. “You do?”

Torrullin
shook his head in exasperation. “Gods, what do I have to do to stop
the incessant questioning?”

“You’re
staying,” Teighlar stated.

“Yes, Emperor,
for a while.”

Saska’s return
to the Keep made his home feel bearable again, but the Throne was
there, an addiction he sought to avoid.

A few days
away from it would only help.

Chapter
63

“…
a state
of abstraction, a trance in which a series of images, ideas and
emotions occur involuntarily. This altered conscious may occur
during the hours of sleep or, more disturbingly, while the subject
is awake. Neither should be discounted. Ever. Hark to that inner
prompting …”

~ Ancient
Oracles

“How long?”
Tannil demanded that night around Curin and Vania’s dinner
table.

“I cannot put
a schedule to this.”

“What is it
you have to do?” Mitrill questioned. She and Caltian stayed with
the two women and their sons, although Caltian was currently absent
conferring with the Elders of both worlds.

“A little
mystery needs clarification,” Torrullin stated. “I’m not saying
more.” He took care not to glance at Tristan, who joined them
earlier, brought down by Teighlar.

The boy was
bright-eyed, active and full of fun, teasing Teroux, to the younger
boy’s delight.

“Your little
mysteries tend to get us in trouble.”

Torrullin
slammed the table. “Daughter-in-law, I shall
not
do this
with you.”

“Calm down,”
Saska murmured. “The boys, hmm?” She fixed Mitrill with a
belligerent eye. “And that goes for you as well.”

“Saska is
right,” Vania said. “This is a family meal. Let’s not spoil
it.”

Curin leaned
forward in the silence. “Torrullin, I hear tell you can see the
future. Is that true?”

“If you’re
looking for a palm reading, I have to disappoint you.”

Curin grinned.
“Thanks, but no. I prefer not to know what lies around the corner.
I just wondered if it’s true.”

“All Valleur
have the talent to a greater and lesser degree, and there is the
scrying we do for our newborns’ name - the name should fit the
future, you understand? Caballa is a seer and you will no doubt
meet her before long, but as to my own abilities? I think rumour is
greater than truth.”

It was an
outright mistruth, but he would not admit it in present
company.

Mitrill
snorted. “Oh, please! Do you think we’re idiots?”

He glared at
her.

“Mother, leave
it,” Tannil said.

Curin glanced
at Tannil and turned her head back to Torrullin. “They think it’s
no rumour.”

“To be a seer,
Curin, is a calling, which I have not. The few times I stumbled
upon a glimpse of the future were pure accident. So, yes, I had a
moment or two, but it’s not an inherent gift, nor is it a gift I
want.”

Again it was a
misrepresentation, but it was closer to the truth than earlier.

“Were you
wrong - I mean, in what you saw?”

“No.”

“That must be
upsetting.”

Saska laughed.
“Unless they are good things!” She grinned at Torrullin, who looked
at her. “Love, don’t be so serious.”

“Is this
badgering my fate, woman?”

Everyone
laughed, but Vania glanced at Tannil, who looked away.

Curin said,
“Forgive me, but how does this happen then? Do you sense what to do
next, where to go, how to react? I mean, surely seeing the future
would help?”

“One doesn’t
ask for a prophecy; it comes to you. I didn’t know I would return
to battle my son; I only knew the danger was greater than Margus. I
wish I could narrow it down to specifics, to adequately explain
Samuel’s future to you, but the best knowledge is usually garnered
over the scrying bowl when searching for a …” He paled. “… name.”
He swallowed. “Nobody did that for Samuel.”

“Thank Aaru,”
Samuel muttered. “Or I’d have some strange epitaph now.”

“What is it?”
Saska whispered to Torrullin.

Something
twigs at me, but it’s elusive.

“What about
dreams?” Curin asked.

Tristan
glanced up from teasing Teroux and then bent over his plate.

“Those are
often prophetic, but may also be bogged in cryptic symbolism. A
dream interpreter solves the dilemma.” Torrullin paused and frowned
in Tannil’s direction. “Whatever happened to Krikian?”

“When Matt
returned from training, Krikian accompanied him to Xen. He
disappeared after a number of years.”

“Twenty-odd
years?”

Tannil glanced
at his mother, who answered, “I believe it was about twenty years,
yes. Why?”

“Not why,
mother. How does he know that?” This from Tannil.

“A suspicion,”
Torrullin said.

“This Krikian
was a dream interpreter?” Curin asked.

“The best,”
Saska replied.

Samuel changed
the subject, having noted how uncomfortable his son was with the
conversation. “Teighlar tells of an enchantment around Luvanor, and
says you put it there.”

“He must have
been a mite more forthcoming,” Torrullin grinned. “Knowing our
Emperor.”

Samuel
laughed. “He had much to say, actually. About Dragons and
talismans, but honestly, it sounds a bit extreme.”

“All true,”
Saska said. “Only one Taliesman, however.”

“This war
between the Murs, Mysor and Luvanor is true? It happened? And
Dragons came to your aid?”

Saska giggled.
“He sounds like Matt used to.”

Torrullin
nodded and managed to get a mouthful of food in amongst the
questions.

“The Emperor
said when you destroyed the taliesman it placed the enchantment
around Luvanor,” Tristan said.

Torrullin held
a hand up, swallowed and said, “The Taliesman, capital T, was both
good and evil, having in it both the Dragon Neolone’s power and
that of Nemisin, our First Father. I didn’t destroy it, for the
evil unleashed would be too great; instead I altered it by drawing
Nemisin’s influence to the fore - he was, after all, its creator.
Today the Taliesman is the enchantment. Although no longer a
physical and tangible object, it continues to exist.”

“You never
told me that,” Saska said.

“As I recall
we were not on good terms then.”

“I remember
something like that.” They smiled at each other, and Vania scraped
her chair back to vanish into the adjacent chamber.

A moment later
Tannil followed.

“Are you boys
finished with your meal?” Mitrill asked. When they nodded, “Why
don’t you take Samuel and Saska on a tour of the city?”

The boys
grinned, but Saska asked, “What are you up to, Mitrill?”

“They need
distraction.”

The boys
looked from one woman to the other.

Curin rose.
“I’d love to tag along with two such handsome young men …” She
glanced at Saska, who smiled.

The boys ran
through the house with Curin, Samuel and Saska following, the
latter two bemused by the manoeuvring.

Mitrill and
Torrullin were left with the remains of dinner on the table between
them.

“Say what it
is you need to say,” Torrullin said.

She rose,
rounded the table and sat in the chair Saska vacated. “You know I
love you. As my Lord, as my father-in-law and as a friend. You are
dear to me and mean as much to me as does my husband, my son and my
daughter.”

“I know.”

“Good. Bear it
in mind when I say to you, you’re messing with this family. You’re
harbouring secrets, you’re going it alone as you did two thousand
years ago. Your smile, your sociability is a mask to put us at
ease, and I think it’s wrong, and also selfish. While we didn’t ask
for this, we’re as involved in this crusade as you are - more so,
for we are the ones who will die if we aren’t careful. We can’t be
careful if we don’t have the full tale. You need to be open with
us. Look where Fay finds herself because you kept quiet. No, I’m
not taking you to task over her decision; I’m telling you we
should’ve been aware of her plan … at least her instability.”

“You wanted
the opportunity to talk sense into her. I understand, but the
secret was hers, Mitrill, not mine.”

“Crap.
However, it’s done. Torrullin, you’re mysterious and that can’t be
a good thing. You speak of transparency to all and sundry back
home, and it has worked, achieving a lifelong desire in short
order. The Valleur are welcome again because you were open with
Valarians.”

“Was I?”

“You know what
I mean. We deserve the same. Us, your family. We may even
help.”

“That’s what
scares me.”

Mitrill chewed
at her cheek, then, “For it would put us in harm’s way?”

“Exactly.”

She sighed.
“I’ve watched you; I’ve seen how much you care, even for Fay. I see
how much you love Saska. You adore the boys, and Tannil; you love
him despite that seat … all of us. And we love you. I even
understand your reluctance in letting us in, but let me say this;
we’ll not hide in safe, cowardly security while you fight our
battles for us.”

“It’s not your
battle.”

“But it is. If
the tables were turned and it was Tannil at war with Teroux in the
future, what would you do? Stay out of it? Regard it as a matter
between a father and a son?”

“Tannil may
think to send you to safety … as I do.”

“And you’d
jump down his throat as I am with you. This is a family affair, and
we can help. We deem it an honour, every one of us, to die for
…”

“Do
not
say for me.”

“… for the
Valleur. For what we are as a nation, for what we were and always
will be. The Vallas are responsible. We’ll all die sometime, while
you go on. The day will come for you when we are gone and others
will take our place in your affections. That is a fact you’ll have
to accustom yourself to, and in doing so, realise you can’t protect
us into eternity. Let us decide individually where our tasks of the
present lie.” She laid a hand on his, sparking kinfire. “Blood,
Enchanter. Do not deny it us.” She withdrew her hand and smiled
sadly. “You allowed Fay choice and freedom to decide. Do so for
us.”

“Look where it
got her.”

“In a milder
way she is like you. Restless, uncomfortable with stability,
passionate, a little crazy, daring, brave, impulsive, and with two
distinct natures. Had you not aided her, she’d be worse off now and
Saska would still be captive. Yes, I know you feel guilty, as I do,
but it’s done, and your guilt can’t suffocate the rest of us.”

“Are you
suggesting all Vallas return to Valaris?”

“No. Tannil’s
plan for the boys and their mothers remains sound, and Grinwallin,
as you thought, is a better place for them than a dank castle. The
rest of us deserve to choose our fate. We haven’t been idle in your
absence, and not one of us is soft.”

“Tannil should
stay here.”

“Please. When
you were Vallorin you fought from the front.”

“I am
Immortal.”

“And Tannil
has an heir. The Valleur will live on if, gods forbid, anything
happens to their Vallorin. Don’t insult him.”

Torrullin was
silent for a time, and his thoughts evidently moved on and away
from what she said, for when he spoke he said, “The Throne must
move west, Mitrill. I cannot bear it at the Keep.”

She began to
understand what lay below. The Throne on Valla Island meant Tannil
on Valla Island, a different kind of exile, and one difficult to
protect and control from the mainland. If the seat went west and
Tannil stayed on Luvanor, that guilt would not now have to be
faced.

“The choice is
Tannil’s. You’re still drawn to that chair.”

An
understatement. “I need to be alone.” He rose to stalk out.

She watched
him go. There would be no peace for him, she realised.

In the silence
she heard Tannil and Vania’s raised voices, and began gathering the
dishes, the sounds masking their argument.

“Vania, you …”
Tannil began when he followed his wife into the adjoining chamber,
but she cut him off.

“Oh, shut
up.”

“What’s got
into you? You’re downright rude.”

“Have you
actually looked at them?”

Tannil was at
a loss. “Who, what?”

“How can you
be so stupid? Your grandfather and his wife, idiot.”

Tannil
frowned. “So? They’re happy together.”

“Exactly. Two
thousand years, Tannil, and still they love each other. We haven’t
been together for months, and do we have that?”

Tannil drew a
deep breath. “We never had it, Vania. Let us not pretend
otherwise.”

“But I want
it! I want to look into my man’s eyes and know he loves me! Ours
was a marriage of convenience, I know, but somehow I thought we’d
learn to love. It isn’t right that I, or you, should spend our
lives in expectancy of a thunderbolt from the heavens! And if it
comes, we’re married. Restricted. Not free to love!”

“Is there
someone else? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“
No!
Goddess!”

Tannil put his
hands in his hair. “Then I don’t understand. I’m sorry.”

“No, you
don’t,” she said, “you never have. You are Teroux’s father and that
is what matters.”

“I love my
son.”

“I know that!
And he is my son also.”

“Do we have to
get into this now?”

“When is the
right time? You promised we’d talk.”

“When I am
able to give my full attention to this.”

Vania thumped
the back of an armchair in frustration. “When you’re dead, my Lord?
We talk now or I apply to the Elders for a divorce!”