Heritage Of The Xandim
Page 27
‘Hellorin, are you going to tell me about this other stranger?’ There was a sharp edge of impatience to Aerillia’s voice.
‘Very well.’ Hellorin reminded himself that he was there on her sufferance. ‘What do you know about the Xandim?’
‘Shapeshifters.’ Aerillia’s eyes stared off into the distance as she searched her memory. ‘Unusual in that they take horses as an alternative form. Most polymorphs tend to use carnivores - the nature of the hunter corresponds better with the aggressive, predatory disposition of the bipedal form. Once, aeons ago, the tribe had a link into the Old Magic, but at some point in their history, the idiots repudiated their powers, which eventually were lost to them.’ She looked at Hellorin. ‘That’s about all I recall.’
‘But the Xandim loss of magic was not universal,’ the Forest Lord said softly. ‘Once in every generation the gift is passed on . . .’ As she listened, he told her about the new Windeye, Corisand.
The Moldan waited until he had finished, then shrugged. ‘So? I thought you took care of the Xandim a long time ago. How can their Shaman be a danger to you now?’
‘She was no danger to me - until the Evanesar brought her here at the same time that you brought me, and befriended her.’
‘Interfering fools,’ Aerillia snarled.
‘Exactly. And no friends to your race or mine. While she is in this world, Corisand can access both her human form and her magic. With the Evanesar on hand to teach her to use her powers, she could become a significant threat.’
The Moldan drew in a swift, sharp breath. ‘You think she can use the Fialan?’
Hellorin nodded. ‘That is my belief. If the accursed Evanesar persuade her that the Stone can free her people - and they will - then she, too, will try to possess it.’
To his chagrin, Aerillia laughed. ‘Hellorin, you astonish me. Why are you so concerned about her? Recently arrived in this world, untutored, newly come to her powers - how can she be a threat?’
‘Because in this world, Corisand’s powers are greater than she knows. And while I am holding her people captive, she will have everything to play for.’
The Moldan’s expression hardened. ‘In that case, Forest Lord, you had better stop watching and start acting. Difficult as it may be, put aside your concerns about what is happening in your own realm, and turn the scrying-glass that I have made for you onto this world instead. Find the Mad One. Do not rest until you have located him.’
She hesitated, fractionally, then continued: ‘I will do the best I can to help you, though I will not be loved for it by my fellow Moldai. As for your Shaman, I would advise you to save your worries for later. Powerful or not, she still has much to learn. Concentrate on finding Ghabal and discovering a way to take back the Stone from him. When you hold the Fialan, the Windeye of the Xandim will be no more than an insect to be crushed beneath your feet.’
19
BRIGHT FACE , DARK HEART
Tiolani awakened early and slipped quietly out of bed. Drawing the drapes aside, she looked out of the window. ‘Why, it’s summer,’ she said. Suddenly her heart grew lighter. Every year it happened like this. Summer came late to the northern realm of the Phaerie, but the long wait was always worthwhile. On one particular morning, all the imperceptible changes in the climate and landscape seemed to come together, and suddenly the world was a different place: golden, glowing and warm. Vibrant flowers, an emperor’s cloak of purple, red and gold, massed beneath the trees, mingling their perfumes and crowded with bees. Colours were brighter. Birds flitted everywhere, filling the air with song, and streams and rivers, with a new, laughing note in their ever-running songs, flashed the sunlight back into the air. Green leaves fluttered at the end of each twig, and the grass in the meadows where the horses grazed grew rich and strong and thick. Suddenly, it was as though the cold, bleak darkness of winter and the pale and windy spring, which had seen her struggle to establish herself as ruler of the Phaerie realm, had never been.
For the first time since her brother had been slain, Tiolani felt she could look forward to the future. Since Hellorin was wounded, and she had suddenly found herself to be the Lady of the Forest by default, she had been finding life desperately difficult. But today she was filled with hope. At last she was beginning to feel in control of her father’s realm. Until he recovered, she could function effectively as the ruler - and she was even beginning to enjoy it.
‘What are you doing there, my love? It’s early yet. Come back to bed.’
Tiolani turned away from the window with a laugh. ‘Ferimon, you’re wicked.’
The handsome courtier with the blond curls flashed that charming white smile that never failed to melt her heart. ‘Only with you, my love. You know that my one joy is to be with you.’
Unable, as always, to resist him, Tiolani turned her back on the bright summer sunlight, and went happily into his embrace.
Later, as Ferimon slept again, Tiolani lay in his arms, relaxed, secure and sated. My darling Ferimon, she thought. What would I have done without you? It had been Ferimon who eventually broke through her grief, brought her comfort and, eventually, helped her take a grip on affairs within her father’s court. When she looked back, she wondered how she would have managed to get through those first dark days following Arvain’s death, save that she and Ferimon had been drawn together, helping each other through the difficult and lonely months. It had been Ferimon, for example, who had suggested that she ban all outsiders from entering the Phaerie realm at this time, and forbade all the Phaerie to journey to the world outside. That way, the news that Hellorin was incapacitated might be kept secret. It was well known that the Magefolk had a healthy respect for the Forest Lord and his powers, and it would be better at this difficult time if they believed he was still in command.
Ferimon was also encouraging her to take an increasingly firm stance with her father’s old counsellors, and Tiolani’s happy mood darkened a little at the thought of them. They would never take her seriously as a ruler, he had told her, if she allowed them to argue with her all the time; however, she suspected that most of them would never take her seriously no matter what she did. And, like Aelwen, some of the advisors were Hemifae, with their taint of treacherous human blood. How could her father have trusted them? Well, that was a mistake Tiolani didn’t intend to repeat, even though she might be stuck with them for the present. Sometimes she would find herself falling into a daydream in which they were the quarry of her Hunt. The thought of them being ripped to pieces by the hounds, the notion of wading, for once, in their blood . . . sometimes these fantasies would frighten her with their savagery, yet they would make her feel better, at least for a while. And though she couldn’t really hunt down her father’s counsellors, she was beginning to manage them better. Since she had dismissed several of them from their posts, the quibbling and dissension had diminished markedly, but it had made her no friends within the court, and everywhere she went, she was sure that people were plotting and whispering behind her back, planning to wrest away the power that was rightfully hers.
Well, just let them try. Ferimon had arranged a personal bodyguard of loyal warriors to protect her at all times - just in case, he said, there was more trouble with renegade humans - but they could protect her from her enemies within the court just as well. She smiled at her lover as he lay dozing beside her. How wonderful he was. She had come to rely on his good advice, and his support had been invaluable as she gradually learned to make the great decisions that would affect an entire realm, and to wield the authority of a ruler with dignity and confidence. She would dearly love to make him her consort, but that was a decision of such magnitude that she could hardly take it without her father’s consent.
When would Hellorin wake? He still remained in a suspended state while the healers worked on his injuries, and though they seemed to be taking an unusually long time about it, Tiolani didn’t question their skills. With Ferimon by her side, she was beginning to like being ruler of the Phaerie . . .
He muffled her complaints with a kiss. ‘It’s a surprise,’ he said. ‘I won’t be long. Anyway, you should be getting up soon yourself. You’re holding public audience today, remember?’
Tiolani made a face. ‘I hate holding those damned audiences. The entire court is looking at me all the time, waiting for me to make a mistake, and I never know what to say.’
‘Well, it’s time you learned.’ Ferimon spoke sharply, and all of the pleasant good humour had vanished from his expression. ‘You’re the ruler of the Phaerie now, Tiolani. It’s time you stopped acting like a pampered little girl.’
Tiolani dropped her gaze. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right.’
Ferimon took her in his arms and smiled down at her. ‘Of course I am. And don’t worry about the public audience. I’ll be right there beside you. Trust me, Tiolani. I know what’s best for you.’
When he had gone, Tiolani snuggled back down beneath the covers and stretched out luxuriously, looking round her room. How she loved this place, which had been hers ever since she’d been old enough to leave the nursery. The cold stone walls were panelled with golden wood, beautifully carved to resemble a forest scene, with trees, flowers, twining vines and a river that curled and flowed right around the room. Here and there, animals were cunningly concealed amid the vegetation, and she loved to pick them out one by one: rabbits, deer and slinking foxes on the ground, and squirrels, birds and even an owl perched in the branches of the trees. The carving extended to the stone surround of the fireplace, and in keeping with the general theme, the carpets and drapes were mingled shades of gold and green, as was the coverlet on her bed.
Thinking of Ferimon, Tiolani wondered how so much happiness could come out of such deep sorrow. True, her father was taking a worryingly long time to recover - but as Ferimon said, at least she knew that he was with the best possible healers. Her grief for her brother was more of a problem. Her feelings were still so acute, months later, that the pain could only be assuaged by the repeated spilling of human blood in the Hunt. Because she needed to hunt so frequently, she seemed to be locked in a constant battle of wills with Aelwen, who was forever fussing and complaining about the state of the overworked horses, until Tiolani had become sick of the sight of her. Only the thought of Hellorin’s wrath, if he recovered and found that she had removed his precious Horsemistress, had prevented her from getting rid of Aelwen for good and all.
Yet, despite these problems and annoyances, things were getting better. While Tiolani had Ferimon at her side, everything would be all right, of that she was certain. She would have been far less sanguine, however, if she could have heard the conversation that was taking place at that moment across the corridor, in the rooms of her lady-in-waiting.
Ferimon could tell that Varna had been fretting. When he entered she was staring into the depths of the fire, her expression morose, her eyes clouded with troubled thoughts. She spun around quickly as he entered, unable to hide her unhappiness. Inwardly, Ferimon cursed his error. Whenever he left his sister alone for too long to be with Tiolani, she would start to miss both her brother and her friend, and uncertainty would begin to invade her mind.
‘I thought you were never going to come,’ Varna said. ‘Did I not know better, I would think you were beginning to enjoy Tiolani’s company more than mine.’ Her bright voice tried to make her comment into a jest, but there was a slight tremor beneath the words that betrayed her uncertainty.
He put his arms around her and kissed her on the forehead, thinking, with wry amusement, that he’d done something similar not five minutes before to silence Tiolani’s complaints. Women were so predictable. ‘Surely you cannot think I would prefer the company of Hellorin’s pampered daughter to that of my own dear sister.’
‘I’m sorry.’ To his dismay, the lines of tension had not moved from between her eyebrows and around her mouth. ‘I sound jealous of poor Tiolani, and I have no right to be. After all, I still have you, but she has lost everyone: mother, father and brother.’ Varna hesitated, then went on: ‘Ferimon, are you sure we should be using her in this way? The death of our parents happened a long time ago, and Hellorin has always been kind to us.’ She took his hand. ‘My dear, could not our grief at losing Arvain and so many of our other friends have clouded our thinking? Tiolani might be spoilt, and not the easiest of people to live with, but I hate to think of hurting her.’
Ferimon shot his sister an anxious glance. These fits of conscience, to which she seemed increasingly prone, might ruin everything, and his plan was much too good to fail on such a ridiculous detail. Of course, Varna believed that his plot to encompass Hellorin’s downfall had begun after Arvain’s death. She had no idea just how long he had been hatching it in the secret recesses of his innermost thoughts, and how carefully he had plotted and intrigued to achieve the Forest Lord’s downfall.
Even though she was his only remaining kin, though they had shared a close and loving bond since childhood, Ferimon felt not the slightest shred of remorse at duping her in this fashion. Best she stayed innocent, he told himself. She was convinced that the ambush had been an evil twist of fate, and had no idea that her brother had masterminded the entire trap - right down to providing those stinking ferals with the weapons that they so desperately needed. And, since she had been among the hunters on the night of the attack, it was certainly best she didn’t know that he had risked her life to achieve his ends. Anyway, that was entirely her own fault. Though he had tried his utmost to persuade her to go with him in the net crew that night, she had insisted on accompanying Tiolani on her first Hunt.
Now it was more important than ever that he keep her on his side. ‘Don’t be angry with me, Varna,’ he cajoled. ‘How can we be hurting her when she so desperately needs our support at this time? And you agreed to help me avenge our family’s name. It was your clever planning that won me Tiolani’s trust in the first place, remember? That idea of wearing the same robes I wore for Arvain’s funeral was inspired. And as for the ostensible gift from Arvain - that was pure genius, and well worth the expense. Do you know that she never takes it off?’
Varna sighed. ‘At least it made her happy, poor creature. She doted on that brother of hers so much, she was blind to the fact that he was far too self-absorbed to think of buying the occasional gift for his sister. Now that he’s dead, she has built him up into something he never was.’
‘For certain, he was never interested in ruling.’ Ferimon grimaced. ‘In all those years I stayed close to him, he had no desire whatsoever for power, and I could never get him to influence Hellorin in any way. He was my friend, and I grieve for his death, but now that he is gone, Varna, I don’t feel we owe Hellorin another thing. And don’t worry about Tiolani. I’ve made her happy, have I not? And I promise I will do everything in my power to keep her that way - while you and I will be ruling the Phaerie through her, and no one will suspect a thing.’
His sister looked unconvinced. ‘But what if Hellorin should awaken, and find out?’
He smiled. ‘You needn’t worry about that, dear one. Our associates among the physicians will make sure that Hellorin stays exactly the way he is.’
Varna shook her head. ‘I still don’t see why we have to keep him alive at all. That way, there’s always a risk. Why don’t we have our physicians rid us of him once and for all?’
‘All in good time. Coming so soon after Arvain’s death, the loss of her father might incapacitate Tiolani completely. No; let her gain some confidence first, and decide that she actually enjoys being ruler of the Phaerie. Then, when we make our move and Hellorin departs this life, she will not be so inclined to look into the matter too closely.’
‘I only hope you know what you’re doing,’ Varna told him. ‘Here.’ Sh
e thrust a bunch of richly scented summer roses, with the dew still pearling on their petals, into his hand. ‘I was up at some unearthly hour picking these. I knew you would never think of such a thing yourself - and besides, you’re far too lazy to get out of bed at first light. I hope Tiolani appreciates them.’
‘Oh, she will.’ Ferimon smiled wolfishly. ‘She loves surprise gifts.’
‘I’d appreciate the occasional surprise gift myself,’ Varna muttered, ‘but you never think of that.’
Ferimon was too busy congratulating himself on his own cleverness to hear her. ‘Your hard work will be worthwhile, I promise,’ he told her. ‘Every embrace, every gift, every little loving gesture brings Tiolani further into our power, and helps to deliver the realm of the Phaerie into our hands.’