by Victor Poole
Ajalia wanted life to settle down. She felt as if she were constantly starting fights with people; she told herself that she must be going around and doing it on purpose, but when she looked back on the conversation with the guards, she could not see what she could have done, aside from leaving the city, which she was not willing to do. She had offered to undergo their witch tests, and she had attempted to engage the guards in conversation.
Fenn walked along beside the black horse, and the three of them were utterly silent. This, Ajalia told herself, was a complete disaster. The weather seemed, to her, an accurate reflection of her take on the situation. She had come to expect some measure of refinement from the people of Talbos. Now that the guards had proven so hostile, she asked herself where this idea of Talbos as a hub of civilization had come from.
She had thought, from her interactions with Rane, that since Talbos seemed to manage its exposure to witches, and to those that Rane had called the lost ones, so thoroughly, that they would be less susceptible to fear and superstition, but she had never encountered such annoyed ignorance or incivility from the people in Slavithe. Ajalia told herself that she had formed her impression of Talbos, and of the character of that city's people, based on a numerous collection of small details. Philas had mentioned the array of dressmaking and tailor shops, and she had spoken to several of the stablemen throughout the edges of the city the first time she had come. The Slavithe people, too, when they did speak of those from Talbos, had a kind of tone in their voices, or a look in their eyes, that seemed, to Ajalia, to indicate a more refined culture, and a more sophisticated understanding of commerce and social life.
Maybe my grasp of things is slipping, Ajalia told herself. Maybe, she thought, I have been so caught up in the upheaval in Slavithe that I have lost my touch. Ajalia began an immediate course of self-examination; if she was over-reacting, and blowing the day's events in Talbos out of proportion, she wanted to catch herself, and to resolve her maladjustment before the black horse reached the top of the mountain road. Perhaps I have been wrong, Ajalia thought, and she made a picture of herself making deep apologies to the king of Talbos, and retreating with shame and political defeat back to Slavithe. A tickled of doubt wriggled at the bottom of Ajalia's spine.
I have never been so wrong as this, she reminded herself, and she thought about a city she had gone to when she had first become a face-bearing slave.
The city had been within the borders of a kingdom in the north; she and her fellow slaves had traveled for weeks to gain the walls of the city, and when they had come there, they had been barred entrance. Such a thing Ajalia had never heard of, and Philas, who had been another slave in that caravan, had assured her that he had never heard of such a thing either. The slave leading the caravan, a man named Lachom, had entered into a long negotiation with the captain who guarded the gate, and after nearly a day's delay, the caravan had finally learned that a relative of the man who ruled the city had, unbeknownst to the true ruler, seized control of the gate, and was seeking an exorbitant bribe from the Eastern slaves in exchange for entrance. Lachom said that this was unheard of and absurd, and the Eastern caravan had camped beside the wall that night, and engaged in very rowdy Eastern songs. The ruler of the city soon learned of their presence, as news of the loudly-singing Eastern slaves spread rapidly through the city, and when the ruler sent inquiries to the gate, and learned that the slaves had been barred, the relative had eventually been routed and driven in shame from the city.
Ajalia thought of this city, and she looked curiously at Fenn. She suspected, because this memory had intruded on her mind when she looked at the unhappy and tense expression on the young guard's face, that the Lerond person who had married Delmar's aunt, the princess of Talbos, was taking over some power that was not necessarily known to the king. Ajalia was sure that Fenn would not have looked quite so tense or miserable if he had been confident of doing a pleasing thing by bringing Ajalia and Delmar into the presence of the king. Ajalia rather suspected that Delmar's grandfather, the king of Talbos, was actually a just man, but, she thought, he would not have been the first king in the world to have been hoodwinked by a rat in the guise of an honest relative.
She held her peace until they had reached the outer walls of the palace, and then she swung herself down from the saddle, and patted Delmar's leg.
"Get into the saddle," she said, "Quick, before it gets wet in the seat." Delmar glanced down at her, but he lifted himself forward into the seat she had left vacant. Ajalia took the pins out of her hair, and shook her waving locks free. The rain had slowed again to a fine drizzle, and the black horse tossed his head and snorted. The green cloth that Denai had woven through the mane of the horse had turned a luxurious emerald in the wet from the rain, and the horse's ears were pricked pleasantly forward. Ajalia was extremely pleased at how her horse had turned out so far. She had gotten him when he had looked quite awful, but Denai's careful trimming and grooming, and the horse's long rest in a well-stocked stall, had made an enormous difference. The horse's hide had darkened, and his sides had filled out wonderfully. He no longer stood with a sloop in his spine, and his neck was straight and strong now. Denai had trimmed the ragged lengths out of the horse's mane, and his hooves were neat and free of dangling muddy hair.
Ajalia arranged her hair with her fingers, and then straightened her clothing.
"We're not even inside yet," Fenn pointed out. He was staring curiously at Ajalia. Ajalia turned and glared thoughtfully at Delmar.
"Put your hands through your hair," she told Delmar, and he did so. Fenn, who now looked amused, watched the two of them. Delmar was wearing the now-sharpened falcon's dagger at his waist; Leed had never had time to take it to market, as he had said he would do, but he had given the dagger to Cross, and Cross had seen to the blade, and to the ordering of a new sheath for the dagger. Ajalia stepped closer to Delmar, and rubbed her sleeve against the leg of his boot.
"You'll do," she said. "Can your grandfather see any magic?" she asked suddenly. Delmar frowned, and then he nodded.
"You know, I think he might be able to," Delmar said. "I've felt before that he was looking quite through me."
"Good," Ajalia said. "Can you mix a little starlight, and make some kind of crown, or nice-looking diadem?" Delmar's mouth twisted in a smile, and he nodded at her. "We're ready," Ajalia said to Fenn. She took her place at the right of the black horse, and a little behind Delmar, and Fenn, who now was grinning like a loon, headed towards the entrance of the palace.
"He's smiling because they don't believe in magic, here," Delmar murmured softly to Ajalia, so that Fenn wouldn't hear. "They say, here in Talbos, that because we keep no strong drinks, we make ourselves mad with fairy tales."
"But they know about magic, if they test for witches," Ajalia said.
"Yes," Delmar said, "but it is annoying to them, and they pretend that it is fake."
"That makes no sense," Ajalia said. Delmar lifted his shoulder in a helpless gesture.
"You will see, in the court," Delmar said. Ajalia glanced up briefly at Delmar, and saw that he had begun to wind fine blue lines all around his neck, in a heavy chain. Formed clusters of brilliant white light coalesced at regular points on the chain, and a throbbing piece of red glowed into place at the point where the chain hung over Delmar's chest.
"Very nice," Ajalia murmured, and Delmar grinned at her.
"Thanks," he said.
ELAN AND THORN
They came through the gate of the palace, and a very strange procession of people and rooms began to flow past them. First there was a courtyard that was filthy and wet with mud, and beyond that was a cleaner, though smaller court paved with smooth pink stones. Ajalia thought that these stones must have been brought from the quarries in Slavithe; she had seen no hint of the white stone that abounded in Slavithe here, and she knew that the mountains all around Talbos were composed of black rock.
Both courtyards were crowded with servants coming and going; these pe
ople, Ajalia found, were dressed far more colorfully and stylishly than the Slavithe people she had seen. The women wore full, bright skirts in pink and black, and the men wore tailored costumes that were reminiscent of some forgotten mountain fishing village, which, Ajalia reflected, Talbos technically was.
The servants seemed to be occupied with pressing business; they passed each other, and slid past Ajalia and Delmar without looking at them, which Ajalia found odd. She had thought that Delmar, at least, would have drawn much interest in Talbos. She knew that the people of Talbos recognized him, and she had heard that the same rumors and speculation were rife throughout the mountain city, about the possibility of Delmar being the dead falcon, the man who was destined to bring magic and unity back to both Slavithe and Talbos.
At the end of the pink courtyard was an annex that ran along a stable that had been joined to one side of the palace, and a pair of earnest, if solemn, stable boys appeared, and demanded the surrender of the black horse. Ajalia looked down at the boys, and considered taking the black horse all the way through the palace to the throne room. She looked back at Delmar, who, she saw, was awaiting her judgment on the matter, and she smiled.
"I think we can give up the horse," she said, but then a smirk on the face of one of the stable boys made her pause. She put a hand up to stop Delmar, who had begun to dismount, and he waited. "Are you going to do something awful to my special black horse?" Ajalia asked the boy who had smirked.
"No, I would never do anything like that," the boy said, with a totally sincere face.
"We're keeping the horse," Ajalia told Delmar, and he nodded, and settled back into the saddle.
"You can't take a horse into the palace," Fenn said blankly.
"I can," Ajalia said, "and if you try to stop me, I will think of something unpleasant to do to you." Fenn studied Ajalia's face.
"I will stay here, and guard the horse," Fenn suggested.
"That will not work," Ajalia said, "because you don't really think I care about my horse. You think that I am making a fuss because I am silly." Fenn's face betrayed him, and Delmar saw him, and laughed.
"Ajalia is not silly," Delmar told Fenn. "I think she is too abrupt, and she startles me a lot, but she is not silly."
"Magic is not real," Fenn said, and he looked very annoyed. He looked at the two stable boys. "Go away," he snapped, and the boys scampered back into the annex. "You will have to wait here," Fenn told Delmar. "I will go and tell someone where you are." With another look of irritation at Ajalia, Fenn hurried away. As soon as he had gone, Ajalia went to Delmar, and put a hand on his knee.
"How are you?" she asked. Delmar looked down at her, and smiled.
"Jittery," he said.
"I'm sorry I startled you before," Ajalia said.
"I didn't realize how bad things were here," Delmar admitted. "I'm getting used to Slavithe, I guess, and being in charge."
"What do you mean, being bad?" Ajalia asked. "Was it like this before?"
"Before my father died?" Delmar asked.
"Before you killed him," Ajalia agreed. Delmar's mouth creased, and he almost smiled.
"That is not a reverent way to talk about killing people," Delmar said.
"Is there a reverent way?" she asked. Delmar laughed.
"I don't know," he admitted. He looked around the courtyard. "It's odd, how stifled it is," he said. "I really thought things would be different, now that my father is dead, but it almost seems worse now."
"What was it like before?" Ajalia asked.
"Not quite this tense," Delmar said. "I didn't think they would take the sky angel so seriously here."
"Why do they?" Ajalia asked. Delmar looked at her.
"Slavithe is supposed to fall apart," he said. "It's supposed to be destroyed, when the sky angel comes."
"Is Talbos supposed to be destroyed?" Ajalia asked. "And who made all of these predictions?" she added. She had been meaning to ask, but had never quite remembered at a good time.
"Talbos isn't going to be destroyed," Delmar said, "but there are a lot of hard feelings between the two cities. Slavithe has far better weather, and better crops. The buildings here can be pretty damp, and the streets are bad. People from Slavithe look down on Talbos, and pretend it doesn't exist, as much as they can."
"So," Ajalia said. "why should those guards be so worried about the fall of Slavithe?"
"Well," Delmar said, "I think a lot of people here are afraid that if the prophecies do come true, and Slavithe is destroyed, that whoever is left will come here for protection. Talbos is not the largest city," Delmar said, "and there is a lot of ill-will towards Slavithe, for the way trade has been restricted, and for the way the harbors have been cut off from each other. There is a fair passage, from Talbos to Slavithe, by sea, that was in use some hundreds of years ago, but it has not been used for a long time."
"So Talbos people think that Slavithe people will come begging for housing and food," Ajalia said, "if the white city falls to pieces."
"I think so," Delmar said. "They also don't like women here." Ajalia blinked.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, witches are always women. There aren't any priests in the city here, so people see women as the source of trouble and disruption."
"I thought there were priests of Talbos that lived in the mountains," Ajalia said. She thought of the men she had met in the wild places near Talbos, the first time she had come here.
"There are," Delmar said. "They all live there. They were driven out of the city here a long time ago, and now they work magic only in the wilderness. Magic is only allowed for hunting witches, and testing them."
"What about the lost ones?" Ajalia asked. Delmar frowned.
"We do not believe there are such things as lost ones," he said. "I don't know what they do about that here."
"Rane said your mother was a lost one," Ajalia said. She thought of how Lilleth had not worn a black cord out of her chest, with shadow victims impaled upon it, and she thought that Lilleth's strangely vague and cruel eyes had been those of an animal.
"I don't know," Delmar said. "We don't believe that there are any lost ones. They kill children here, that they say are lost. We do not kill children in Slavithe."
"Do you think your grandfather will come to see you?" Ajalia asked.
"No," Delmar said. "He will send my uncle."
"Who is your uncle?" she asked. "The one who manages the guard?"
"Yes," Delmar said. He gestured with his chin to the entrance that lay ahead of them. "That is him now. His name is Elan. He is my father's second youngest brother. I do not think he will like you." Delmar clammed up now, because Elan was drawing near.
Ajalia saw that Delmar's uncle was near him in age; Elan wore a trimmed brown beard, and had eyes that were reminiscent of Simon's hard dark eyes. Delmar's blue eyes, Ajalia thought, had come from somewhere else in the family, since he resembled neither his father nor his mother. Coren, Ajalia thought, had looked rather like Simon, like Elan did.
Elan strode through the courtyard towards Delmar. He spared a glance for Ajalia, who was partially out of view behind the horse, and then turned his full attention to Delmar.
"What do you want, Delmar?" Elan asked sharply. Ajalia saw that Delmar's uncle put little store in Delmar's new position; she looked at Delmar out of the corner of her eye, and saw that Delmar was not embarrassed by his uncle's rudeness.
"I've come to negotiate a renewed succession with the king," Delmar said. Ajalia was quite impressed; she had thought, ever since Delmar had frozen up during the confrontation with the guards, that Delmar would be a mute accompaniment to her negotiation, but she saw now that Delmar was going to take the lead on the matter. She hoped that he was prepared for how ugly things would turn, if Elan did not like what was said. She began, very quietly, to gather up long veins of magic in her hands.
Elan was staring hard at Delmar; then he let out a short bark of laughter.
"You're playing at being t
he Thief Lord, now, are you?" Elan asked. Ajalia broke in, and spoke to Delmar in the Eastern tongue; she knew that Delmar would not understand what she said, but Elan did not know that, and Delmar turned his head slightly to the side, and listened to the long string of speech that she made in the foreign tongue. When she had finished, Delmar gave a short nod.
"My slave tells me that you ordered a watch set on us, in defiance of tradition. You gave us guards who attempted to accost my slave. I will address this affront with my grandfather."
Elan was staring now at Delmar with a gaping mouth. Elan began to laugh harshly.
"You can't say things like that to me, Del," Elan snapped, when he had seen that Delmar was quite serious. "I'm older than you, and you are not really going to be the Thief Lord. Your mother has determined upon Wall, your middle brother. Surely you know that. Has Delmar gone mad?" Elan asked Ajalia sharply. "Are you his keeper now? Where is your mother?" Elan asked Delmar. He said all of these things in a long stream, without waiting for answers. Delmar looked imperiously down at Elan, and when Elan asked again where his mother was, Delmar frowned.
"How have you not heard from Rane?" Delmar asked. "I know you are in constant communication with that spy."
Elan's face faltered. His lips trembled, and then he smoothed out his features.
"So you must have found some papers. That's unfortunate," Elan said. "What do you want now?" Elan glanced at Ajalia again, who was standing impassively behind Delmar's right leg, and staring forward in the manner of an obedient slave "What is she?" Elan demanded, and Ajalia saw that she was unnerving him. In her heart, she smiled, but her lips remained a neutral, straight line, bare of any emotion.
"Ajalia is my slave," Delmar said easily. "Why have you not heard of events in Slavithe? Even your poorest guards know what has happened there." Elan's eyes darkened, and his lips turned in a snarl.
