The Trials of Lance Eliot (16 page)

“He had family in Agnis,” said Tsurugi. “He's still in shock.”

“Anyway,” I said, trying to divert attention from Miles, “we were separated from the caravan the next day. Tsurugi led us here, and the blizzard swept over us just as we came in sight of the town.”

“I see,” said our hostess. “Well, I'm glad you made it here. Ventus is famous for its weather. When it's beautiful, it's very beautiful, and when it's bad—”

“It's dashed awful,” I said. “Believe me, we know.”

Supper was soon ready. After serving us, Adele left the kitchen to prepare a hot bath.

“Why did you lie to her?” asked Regis the moment she was gone. He glared at Tsurugi. “She saved our lives. Why won't you tell her the truth?”

“I had to lie,” replied Tsurugi with his toneless voice and stuffed-fish expression. “She wouldn't have believed the truth, and nobody's supposed to know about Lance.”

Regis shook his head. “She might not believe the truth, but she still has a right to it. And what aren't we supposed to know about Lance?”

“That I'm from Terra,” I said.

Miles gaped at me. Regis choked.

“You're from Terra?” he said. “If that's true, how did you get here?”

“That's a long story,” I said, chewing a sausage. “Dash it, I'm glad to have a hot meal again. I can't remember the last time I had a cup of tea.”

“You're getting off the subject.”

“Look here,” I said, jabbing my fork in his direction, “I'll tell you my story when I'm done eating. My last meal consisted of three mushrooms and a root and half a squirrel. Let me enjoy my potatoes in peace, and then I'll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Just as we were finishing, Adele came in and informed us the bath was ready. We had already decided that Miles should be the first to bathe. Regis was next, and then it was my turn. However my uncle may have praised the merits of cold water, I remain an advocate of hot baths.

I returned to the kitchen, dressed in clean clothes and feeling (as an American friend of mine would say) like a million dollars. As Tsurugi left the room, Adele told us she was going to bed. “I've made beds for you in the parlor,” she said. “Would you like me to wake you for breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” said Regis and I, two minds with a single thought.

“Then I'll see you gentlemen in the morning. Please put some wood in the stove before you turn in for the night.”

“It shall be done,” said Regis with a bow. “Madam, you've shown us the kindness of Pelea himself. May El grant you peace.”

Adele smiled. “I hope so. Goodnight.”

Tsurugi returned from his bath and sat down. “We rest tomorrow,” he told me. “We'll stay at the inn and leave for Riku the day after.”

“Wait a moment,” said Regis. “If Lance is from Terra, why is he going to Riku?”

“Just let me get my pipe and I'll tell you the whole story,” I said.

I fetched and filled and lit my pipe, and then proceeded to relate the events of my unexpected visit to Rovenia. Regis was spellbound. Miles listened in amazement, forgetting his sorrows for a little while. Even Tsurugi showed interest.

“I know Aidan,” he said when I had finished. “He's a good man.”

“You're from another world,” said Regis. “I can't believe it.”

“I can hardly believe it myself,” I said. “The whole thing is like a dream. I keep expecting to wake up and find myself in my flat in Oxford, or else in a cozily padded cell. I can't wait to get to Riku. I want to go home.”

“That makes two of us,” said Regis.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to go home too.”

“Why don't you?”

Regis gave a sad smile. “I can't. You see, I ran away from home.”

“Why did you do that?” asked Miles.

“This seems to be a night for stories,” I said. “Why don't you tell us about it?”

“All right, though your story was much more interesting. I was born in Valdelaus. That's the capital of Rovenia, in case you didn't know. I'm told my parents were good people, but I don't remember them. My mother died just after giving birth to me, you see, and my father followed her a year or two later. I grew up in an orphanage.”

“I'm sorry,” I said.

“It wasn't so bad. There were many children at the orphanage. We were like a family. A man named Atticus cared for us. He treated us well, though he didn't always have enough money. Some nights we went to bed hungry. Though it wasn't an awful life, I wouldn't call it a good life either.

“One day I met a man in the street. He stared at me as if I were a ghost, so I looked up at him and asked why. He crouched so we were eye to eye and said, ‘You resemble an old friend, little one. May I speak with your parents?' He didn't seem surprised when I told him my parents were dead. ‘Take me to your caretaker,' he said, and I took him to Atticus.

“They talked for a long time, and then the man went away. He returned late that night and had another discussion with Atticus. I was curious and expected Atticus to tell me everything, but he didn't. After his conversation with the stranger, he came to me and said the man wanted to adopt me. Would I go with him?

“It was a hard decision, but I accepted the adoption. I said goodbye and went with the man. But you'll never guess how we left the city.”

“How?”

“In a crate. We were shipped out of the city with the post and delivered to a town about five leagues away. I asked the man why we were acting so secretly, but he only smiled and told me he was a dangerous criminal. I didn't believe him. He didn't seem like the criminal type. From that little town we rode to Faurum.”

“You've spent time in Faurum?” I said. “What a coincidence.”

“There's an even greater coincidence.”

“What's that?”

“The stranger was Kana Shoukan.”

My pipe fell from my lips, scattering hot ash and tobacco over the table.

“You mean to say Kana Shoukan adopted you?” I asked, sweeping the mess into the stove. “That's incredible.”

Regis chuckled. “I enjoyed your description of him. You're not a bad storyteller, old boy. You have a good memory for detail.”

“Confound my good memory,” I said, pressing more tobacco into my pipe. “What happened next?”

“Well, we arrived in Faurum. Kana left me at the governor's house—he was friends with the governor, you see—and went to meet a merchant, who turned out to be Tamu Baba. They founded the Resistance together. Kana found us a house in the upper city and enrolled me in an academy, and for a while life was good.”

“Only for a while?”

“I was nine or ten years old when I went to live in Faurum. I'm not sure when I was born, so I can't give you my exact age. As I endured the awful transition from boyhood to manhood—”

“A horrible transition,” I said sympathetically.

“—I realized there was nothing I was good at. My friends were all great artists or musicians or athletes. I wasn't. Even my marks at school weren't very good, so I stopped trying. Kana was as patient as a man can be. He even hired a tutor for me. Nothing seemed to help. I was a nobody, a person who might as well never have existed.

“One day I went to the park and met two old men playing cards. They noticed me watching and taught me to play. Within half an hour I was winning every game, so they suggested I try my luck at a public house—now that I think back on it, they were probably trying to get rid of me. Anyway, I went to a pub and joined a card game. Bets were placed. By the end of the evening I'd won three hundred valores.

“I'd finally found something I was good at. Before long, I realized I could make a living with it. But when I told Kana, he wasn't pleased. He told me gambling is a foolish way of making a living. Gamblers depend on luck. ‘No matter how skilled the gambler,' he said, ‘ruin lurks in every hand of cards and roll of the dice.'

“He had another objection. Gamblers don't benefit society. ‘Carpenters build furniture, tanners cure pelts, farmers grow food,' he said. ‘What do gamblers do? They play games and rob the unlucky. Gamblers are parasites: they take much and give nothing.' No matter how I argued with him, he wouldn't budge.

“You see my dilemma: abandon my only gift, or abandon my father and home. I abandoned my father and home. It's been about two years. I've emptied many pockets and made a lot of money. But I miss him.”

“Then go back,” said Miles.

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

“I ran away.”

“Kana would take you back.”

“How can you be sure of that? You haven't even met him.”

“I've met him,” I put in. “I'm sure he'd take you back.”

“Go back,” said Tsurugi.

We all stared at him.

“You should go back,” he said.

“I…well, I'll think about it, old boy.”

There was a long silence.

“Miles, I'd like to hear about your life,” I said. “But I understand if you'd rather not talk about it.”

“I can talk,” he said, staring into his empty cup. “I was born in Agnis. My father was a carpenter and his father a carpenter and so on for as long as anybody knew. We lived over our shop. Our house smelled like sawdust. My father made furniture; folk said it was the best in the Tetrapolis. When I was little he made me toys. He made me his apprentice when I turned sixteen. When I turned twenty he made me his partner. When I turned twenty-six, I…I met a lady.”

Regis passed him a handkerchief.

“Her name was Katarina. She was the miller's daughter, and she was beautiful. She was kindhearted and gentle. Katarina…deserved better than a carpenter.”

“Don't say that,” said Regis.

“I didn't deserve her, don't you know, but El brought us together. We married. My father bought the house next to the shop and gave it to us. Katarina and I had a son and a daughter, and—”

He broke off and wept into the handkerchief.

“Listen,” I said, placing a tentative hand on his arm. “You don't have to tell us any more. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“No,” he sobbed, “I…want to tell you.” He took a deep breath. “We had a son and daughter.”

“What were their names?” asked Regis.

“Leon and Amy. Amy was a princess. She was calm and patient as Ella. Leon wasn't calm or patient. He was like Zelaph, a little lion, climbing up shelves, hanging from window bars, getting scraped and bruised every time Kat and I let him out of our sight for even a moment. He was nine when…when they came. Amy was seven. I went to the well, and our house…when I got back…it was gone…just ashes…and in the ashes…three bodies.”

He put his head in his arms and bawled.

“I'm so sorry,” said Regis, rubbing his back and motioning for me to shut the kitchen door. I tiptoed to the door and closed it, hoping Adele and Conrad wouldn't be awakened by the noise Miles was making.

We sat in silence until Miles stopped crying. “You know the rest of it,” he said. “Thank you. It means a good deal to be listened to, don't you know.”

There was a long silence, and then Regis said, “You've heard our stories, Tsurugi. Would you tell yours?”

Tsurugi did not reply.

It seemed like a good time to change the subject.

“What are you going to do now that we've reached Ventus?” I asked Regis.

“That's a good question, old boy.”

“You could go back to Faurum,” I said. “I know of someone there who might be glad to see you.”

“That's it,” said Regis, laughing. “You three won't stop bothering me, so I suppose I haven't any choice. I'll go back to Faurum.”

Miles gave a weak cheer that ended in a fit of coughing. Pounding him on the back, I expressed my delight at Regis's decision. Even Tsurugi looked pleased.

“Don't misunderstand me,” added Regis. “I'm not going to quit gambling. It's the only thing—I mean the
only
thing—I can do well. I can't throw it away. But it's time I see Kana again. I need to apologize, to explain. He might understand. I hope he understands.”

“What about you, Miles?” I asked.

“My sister and her family live in this town. I'll stay with them.”

“That's a good plan,” said Regis. “You could open a shop here. Ventus is so sheltered and remote the Nomen wouldn't dream of attacking it.”

“It's hard to believe we're safe,” I exclaimed. “Can you believe we were prisoners less than a week ago? Now you're going to see your father, Regis. Miles, you'll be with your sister. And I'm going to Riku, and then back to Oxford where I belong. No more Nomen or long marches or cold baths. This is splendid.”