The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2)

by Meredith Mansfield

  Vatar gave her hand a little reassuring squeeze. “Avaza, I don’t think you’ve met my life mate. Thekila, this is Avaza. I told you about her.”

  “I remember,” Thekila said, struggling to keep her tone neutral.

  Vatar’s eyes narrowed. “What is it you want, Avaza?”

  Avaza’s gaze drifted toward the playing children. “I’m Ariad’s year mate, now.”

  Thekila wondered what that had to do with answering Vatar’s question. She moved half a step closer to him.

  “I heard. Ariad’s a good man,” Vatar answered.

  Avaza nodded. “Yes, he is. He’s more . . . direct than you in some ways. But we suit each other well. This will be our second winter together.”

  Vatar sighed as if he was also confused by this round-about conversation. “I’m glad for you, Avaza. But how does this concern me?”

  “I came to ask you something,” Avaza answered.

  “Then ask it.”

  Avaza looked down, tracing a pattern in the dirt with one foot. “Are you going to take Zavar and Savara to Caere with you this winter?”

  Vatar glanced toward the twins. “No. Caere is not the right place for them just now.”

  Thekila’s eyes snapped from Avaza to Vatar. We aren’t taking the twins with us? Why not? She bit her lip to keep from asking the question right then.

  “Then, would you allow me to have them for the winter? They’re not in danger anymore, now that Maktaz is dead. Ariad’s one of your oldest friends, so you know you can trust him. And I haven’t had a chance to spend much time with them. I . . .” Avaza said it in a rush, her eyes moist with suppressed tears.

  Vatar let out his breath. He watched the twins for a moment before nodding. “I think that’s an excellent idea, Avaza. They should have a chance to be with you, too.”

  Avaza grinned. “Really? Thank you, Vatar!” She turned and ran off as if she didn’t want to give him time to change his mind, straight to where Ariad was waiting for her. Vatar smiled and nodded at his friend. Ariad waved back, smiling too.

  Thekila looked up at Vatar. She had so many questions she wasn’t sure where to start. “That was Avaza?”

  Vatar smiled. “Yes.”

  “She’s very beautiful and . . . .” Thekila made a curving gesture with her hand indicating Avaza’s voluptuous figure.

  Vatar laughed and hugged Thekila closer to him. “Yes, and when I was sixteen, I thought that was all that was important. I’m a lot wiser, now. Even if I’d never met you, I wouldn’t want Avaza back. We’re not compatible. She’ll never be half as wonderful as you are. You have enough curves to suit me, Thekila.”

  Thekila put her arm around him and laid her head on his chest. “Why did she have to ask you for the children?”

  Vatar rested his chin atop her head. “Among the Dardani, the child belongs to the father’s Clan. They’re Lion Clan and should be raised in the clan. Even so, they’d probably have been with her for at least the first few years, but it wasn’t safe for them to be with Avaza while Maktaz was alive. She’s Raven Clan. So was Maktaz. It would have been too easy for him to harm the twins, just to hurt me, if they were with her. He tried, even when they were with my clan. As you’ll remember.”

  Thekila’s nose scrunched up. “Why? Wouldn’t your family have been able to care for them anyway? I mean, you weren’t here over the winter to look after them.”

  Vatar shook his head and gestured around the village. “No. Even here at Zeda the clans remain separate.”

  Thekila followed his gesture, noticing again the five wide lanes that ran through the village like the spokes of a wheel. She’d thought they were streets at first, but they really marked the clan boundaries. Zeda wasn’t one village, but six individual villages side by side. The huts of one clan might be divided from another’s by only a few yards, but they were clearly separate.

  “But the clans don’t stay at Zeda all year,” Vatar went on. “In another month or so, when the herds have grazed all the grass nearby, the clans will split up and go to their own autumn villages. It’s not far—may a half-day’s ride—from our village to the nearest other clan, which would be the Horse Clan. But it’s farther to the Raven Clan. Probably a day and a half there and as far back again.”

  Thekila nodded. “Oh, I see. That would have made it hard for your family to watch over the twins.”

  Vatar nodded. “Hard, but not impossible. But then, during the winter, when grass gets scarce, even the clan breaks into smaller bands so we don’t put too much pressure on the resources of any one place. Some winters, the snow is too deep even to ride between the camps of the Lion Clan bands. There’d be no way to get as far as the Raven Clan. Maktaz would have had far too many chances to hurt the twins then. He could even afford to be subtle. All he’d have to do was tell them a poisonous plant was safe to eat or something like that. You know little children put everything in their mouths anyway. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Yet you let her have the children for the winter, now.”

  Vatar shrugged. “As she said, she’s with Ariad, in the Eagle Clan, now. I have friends there. Ariad and I have been friends since we could ride. I know they’ll be kept safe. Anyway, I let her have the children more for them than for her. They should know their mother. And they shouldn’t have to learn about one of their parents only when they’re grown, like I did.”

  Thekila leaned back a little to look up at his face. “Why aren’t we taking them with us to Caere? I thought they’d be coming with us.” Her chest tightened a little at the thought of leaving them behind. She’d grown to love them in the short time she’d been among the Dardani. She’d miss them. “Or is the trip too difficult for them.”

  Vatar shook his head. “It wouldn’t be easy to take two children their age all the way to Caere, at least not without more help to watch over them. But that’s not the main reason. I’m not sure they’ll be safe there. Especially Zavar, since he’s already aware of . . . well, you know. The Fasallon raise all part-Fasallon children in the Temple or the Palace. They only let me be because I was already grown when they found out about me.” He paused, looking around them to see that no Dardani were close enough to hear. “And they didn’t think I had any Talent. I don’t trust that they’d have the same consideration for my children.”

  Thekila cocked her head to the side. “Well, the Valson send their children to the Academy, too.” Though, admittedly, not as young as two years old.

  Vatar shook his head. “It’s not the same at all. This isn’t going off to school at ten or eleven. The Fasallon take half-blood children when they’re born. They raise them in the Temple and then they are required to live in the Temple or the Palace all their lives. What they do, who they marry, where they live, are all determined by how much m—” Vatar stopped, swallowing the word magic. “By how much Talent they have. I chose the Ordeal partly so that my children could grow up here, free. Untouched by Maktaz’s lies about me.”

  Thekila cocked her head to one side. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why do the Fasallon do that?”

  Vatar shrugged. “You should ask Cestus about the history behind it when we get to Caere. But as I understand it, they’re afraid. The Fasallon rule in Caere because the Caereans think that they’re the descendants of the Sea Gods. The Fasallon don’t want anyone to give the Caereans reason to doubt that. Their greatest fear has to do with a prophecy about a Fasallon who is not a Fasallon who’s going to reveal their secrets and end their rule. So they try to be sure that there aren’t any Fasallon who aren’t Fasallon.”

  “Then you’re never going to take the twins to Caere?” Thekila was surprised at how sad that made her feel. Would they have to leave the twins behind not just this winter but every winter?

  Vatar drew a deep breath. “I hope someday. But not until they’re older. Or I come up with some way to convince the Fasallon to leave them alone. Permanently.”

  Thekila swallowed back her disappointment. Leaving the twins hurt Vatar f
ar worse than it hurt her. He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t think it was necessary. Nevertheless, she was going to miss their laughter and hugging their warm little bodies every day.

  ~

  Vatar had hesitated about letting Avaza have the twins for the winter, but not out of concern for their safety. He didn’t doubt that Ariad and Avaza would keep the twins safe. His concern was with Zavar’s ability to sense Vatar’s Far Sight. That was definitely something he didn’t want Avaza to know about. She’d caused him enough trouble without knowing anything about his magic. If she knew about that . . .

  On the morning they were to leave Zeda, Vatar sat down and pulled Zavar into his lap. “You and Savara are going to spend the winter with your mother, Zavar. I’ll watch over you every night, just like always. But you mustn’t tell anyone but your sister about that. That’s just between us. All right?”

  Zavar nodded.

  Vatar smiled at him and bounced him slightly in his arms. “Good boy!” He had to hope it would be enough. Or that anything the little boy did say would be considered just a child’s imagination. Vatar’s own mother had seen his talk about sensing danger that way—and she knew about Fasallon magic.

  With a sigh, he stood up. “Time to go.”

  Thekila picked up Savara and they walked the short distance to the Eagle Clan village.

  Avaza came running to greet them. “You brought them! You really brought them!”

  Vatar stiffened at her tone. “I told you I would, Avaza.”

  She nodded, reaching for Zavar. “I was just afraid that . . . you’d change your mind. I’ve missed them so much!”

  Vatar grunted. “I understand that.” He hugged Zavar, kissed him, and told him that he loved him. Then he handed the little boy to Avaza.

  As he took Savara, he kissed Thekila more passionately than he normally would have in such a public place.

  “What was that for?” she asked silently.

  “So Avaza will stop smirking at you, as if larger breasts somehow make her better than you.”

  Thekila leaned back to look into Vatar’s face. “You noticed?”

  Vatar snorted. “I know Avaza.”

  Then he kissed Savara and handed her to Avaza, who’d set Zavar down and held his hand. “Be good.” Vatar winked at Zavar. “I’ll play your lullaby and think of you every night.”

  “That’s sweet, Vatar,” Avaza said.

  “That’s our special way of being together,” Vatar answered. “Just between us. Isn’t it, Zavar?”

  Avaza took both children by the hand and led them to the hut. Vatar watched until the hide covering the door swung shut.

  Ariad clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve made Avaza very happy. We’ll take good care of them for you.”

  Vatar turned back to him. “I know that, Ariad.”

  Thekila gave his hand a sympathetic squeeze.

  Vatar squeezed back and let his breath out explosively. “We’d better go. The others will be waiting and it’s a long ride to Caere.”

  “Fair skies, Vatar,” Ariad said.

  Vatar walked away with difficulty. It was always so hard to leave his children behind. He never had enough time with them. But, if he had to leave them, it was just slightly easier to do it quickly.

  When they got back, Theklan, Quetza, and Orleus were already mounted. Orleus would accompany them at least until their midday stop, before turning south to return to his duties in the frontier town of Tysoe. The mottled gray and black dog Vatar had acquired to help with the cattle was already at work, displaying great speed and agility in spite of his short legs. Orleus’s two longer-legged hunting dogs watched him with identical puzzled expressions.

  Vatar boosted Thekila into her saddle and swung up into his own. He waved goodbye to Mother, Pa, and Kiara, who’d all come to see them off. Then he turned his horse’s head toward the west and started for Caere.

  Chapter 7: Plains Crossing

  After they made camp the first night, Thekila hummed along as Vatar played his lullaby. She’d heard him sing it to the twins often enough in their little sod hut in the Dardani village and before that while they were still in the Valley. The words were simple, so she switched from humming to singing along with him, just to share the moment with him. A quick upward twitch of Vatar’s mouth was the only sign that he was aware of her joining him. Well, obviously, his attention at that moment was focused on watching Zavar and Savara as they settled down for the night.

  Then, for an instant, she saw them, too, curled up in a dim corner of a Dardani hut. Zavar smiled sleepily. Thekila’s voice faltered and she shut her mouth with a snap. She clutched the bedroll she’d been carrying into their tent closer to her chest. That shouldn’t have happened. Not without her trying to see the twins.

  Vatar smiled up at her as he finished the lullaby and lowered his pipes. “Why’d you stop singing? Did you forget the words?”

  Thekila swallowed. “No. For a moment, I could see them, too. It surprised me. That’s all.”

  Vatar reached for her hand. “I’m glad you can see them, too.”

  Across the fire, Quetza dropped the bowls and utensils she’d been rinsing out with a clatter. “Were you trying to see his children?” Quetza asked silently so only Thekila could hear.

  “No.” Thekila answered. “Do you think . . . Can we be bonding this early?”

  “Maybe it’s nothing,” Quetza said. “His Powers are different than ours.”

  Thekila didn’t miss the note of doubt in Quetza’s mental voice, but she let it go. The last thing she wanted to do at that moment was raise another question about magic for Vatar to fret over. Not that she didn’t spend some time worrying over it herself. This was not something to be taken lightly. Bonding would link them permanently, unbreakably. More, it meant a complete lowering of barriers that would make keeping even the most trivial of secrets almost impossible. It was a huge commitment. Without asking, she could see from Quetza’s surreptitious looks that her friend had similar concerns about this new development.

  ~

  Vatar’s eyes narrowed as he examined the waterhole he’d been making for as their midday stop. He couldn’t sense anything, so there weren’t lions, but something was making the cattle restless in spite of their thirst. “Wait here. I’ll make sure it’s safe.”

  The cattle stamped, but followed Vatar’s horse toward the water. Vatar dismounted, the better to look around while his horse drank. He’d taken only a couple of steps before the earth lurched under his feet. Vatar had to spread his feet to brace himself against the movement. “Sky above and earth below!”

  “Earthquake!” Quetza said from behind him.

  Vatar knew what it was. He’d felt a few tremors while he was in the Valley. Nothing like this, though. And never before on the plains.

  He wasn’t the only one startled by it. A sleek, spotted swiftcat jumped down from a tree overhanging the waterhole—and straight into the midst of the herd. Smaller than a lion and solitary, the swiftcats normally inhabited areas not claimed by the lion prides. They preyed on the small, agile antelope that were too fast for the lions and usually carried their kills to a secure place. In fact, following the path of the swiftcat, Vatar saw the remains of its latest kill in the crotch of the tree. It was the smell of blood that had made the cattle restless.

  The cat suddenly appearing among them was too much for the nervous cattle. A young bull bellowed and charged away from the waterhole. The others followed. In a few moments, it would be a full-fledged stampede.

  Heart pounding, Vatar leaped back into his saddle to get ahead of the cattle and turn them back. The grey herding dog streaked out ahead of him. He could only hope that the others had sense enough to stay where they were. A stampede was dangerous enough without a bunch of inexperienced riders trying to help and only getting in the way. He wouldn’t trust even Quetza with this. But it was very hard for one man to stop a stampede once it was in full swing. He needed to stop this one before that tipping point—if he could
.

  The dog got out far enough to bark at the lead bull, trying to turn it. The bull kicked out, but shifted a little away from the dog. It was a start. They had to turn the herd back toward the waterhole. Thirst might stop them. If not, the knee-deep water would slow them down enough to get them back under control.

  A predator would turn them. Vatar sucked in a breath and shook his head so violently that he almost fell out of the saddle. Not that voice again. Not now. Was he never going to be in a stressful situation without hearing it? He was not going to use magic to solve every problem and he wasn’t going to use it now.

  However, it seemed the voice wasn’t the only one with that idea. A large white eagle appeared in the sky and dove at the head of the lead bull. The bull tossed its head, but barely slowed down. And then a white wyvern appeared in front of it. Vatar couldn’t suppress a shudder at sight of the dragon-like creature. The bull couldn’t either. It squealed in terror and planted all four feet, other cattle ramming into its hindquarters. Even the dog cowered in place, whimpering. Then the bull turned and ran full-tilt in the other direction. The other cattle whirled in panic and followed. Now this was a full-blown stampede.

  Maybe the waterhole would still stop them, if Vatar could just push them into it. He wheeled his horse, galloping after the terrified lead bull as it charged past him. Without taking his eyes from the panicked cattle, he shouted, “Get out of the way!”

  It was working. Despite its fear, the lead bull was beginning to slow down. Vatar drew his first deep breath since the earthquake. Thekila shrieked and Vatar looked up. She couldn’t be in danger again, could she?

  No, Thekila had gotten safely out of the way. So had Quetza. It was Theklan who’d apparently ridden out toward the herd. His mare, wiser in the ways of cattle than the boy, had evidently thrown him in her rush to get out of the way of the stampede. Theklan was just standing up, dusting off his trousers, oblivious to the danger charging down on him.