Tier looked at Seraph, but it was the first she’d heard of it. Jes smiled sweetly, and said nothing.
The girls of Rongier’s clan wouldn’t come within a dozen yards of Jes if they could help it. “Hennea?” she said.
Lehr grinned. “I think that’s how she feels about it, too—sort of shocked and dismayed, but Jes is smug.”
“Hennea is the Raven you found, right?” asked Tier.
She nodded.
“Don’t worry so, Mother,” said Jes.
Tier smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Trust Jes,” he said. “He’ll be all right.” He looked over at Lehr. “How do you like being a Hunter?”
“He’s always been a Hunter,” said Seraph acerbically. She wasn’t certain that she wanted to hear Lehr’s answer to that question. She didn’t want her son to be unhappy. “He just didn’t know about it.”
“The Lark of Rongier’s clan has been teaching me some things that are pretty interesting,” said Lehr.
Tier reached out and patted Lehr’s knee sympathetically.
“Rinnie wanted to be a Guardian,” Jes said, his gentle eyes gliding over Lehr. “She wanted to turn into a panther, like me.”
“I’ll just bet she did,” said Tier. “I’ve missed you all.”
“We should go, Papa,” said Jes abruptly.
“We can’t,” answered Seraph. “One of Tier’s friends is in danger, and the wizards here have bespelled Tier so he can’t leave the Path’s domain.” She saw the Guardian rising through her son’s eyes and said, “It’s nothing I can’t fix, but I’ll need a little time to study it. In any case he won’t go until his friend is out of danger. Tier, Lehr’s told you our story, tell us what happened to you.”
They weren’t as polite an audience as he had been, interrupting him frequently. Seraph pestered him for details about what little he recalled from the times the Path’s wizards had taken him. Lehr teased him about the women who’d bathed him and braided his hair and fretted when Tier told them how he was imprisoned by magic. Jes was quiet until Tier told them about his royal visitor.
“The Emperor?” said Jes. “The Emperor visited you in your cell?”
“How did he know you were here?” asked Lehr suspiciously.
“I’m sworn to secrecy so I need to get his permission before I tell you,” said Tier. “But that’s another story entirely.”
Both of the boys enjoyed Tier’s explanation of how he’d begun winning over the Passerines.
Seraph shook her head. “They didn’t know what they were doing, kidnapping you.”
“Well,” said Tier. “I may have outsmarted myself. Seems Telleridge tried to set one of my boys out on a bullying mission, something that boy had done a number of times. Kissel refused and, being a straightforward sort of fellow, he told Telleridge that the reason he’d refused was because I wouldn’t like it.”
“Is he the one that you were worried about?” asked Seraph.
“Myrceria told me tonight that the Masters, the Path’s wizards, are organizing something they call the Disciplining.” He told them what he knew of it. “I don’t think that they’ll actually go after Kissel; he’s got friends in high places. I think they’ll take the boy that they tried to send Kissel after.”
He leaned his head back against the wall. “Seraph, you said that Bandor and the Master in Redern were shadowed.”
“Yes. Lehr and Jes both could see it.”
He inhaled. “When Phoran and I combined all the information that we had about the Path we came to some disturbing conclusions. That plague that swept through the Traveling clans twenty years ago also visited the noble houses of the Empire and when it was finished, the Emperor was dead, leaving only an infant on the throne. Also a high percentage of the followers of the Path found themselves Septs, though they might have been as many as eight or ten people away from the inheritance when the plague hit.”
“You think that there might be another one,” she said, cold chills tightening her spine. “Not just shadowed, but willingly shadowed like the Unnamed King. You think it might be this Telleridge?”
He nodded. “Phoran’s sent for my old commander, the Sept of Gerant. He’s on his way, now. With his military and tactical advice, Phoran hopes that he can break the Path. If we take them by surprise and Phoran is ruthless enough, he’ll be right.”
“But Gerant won’t be here in time to save your boy,” said Seraph softly.
“Probably not.”
“These Passerines of yours,” said Seraph thoughtfully. “They won’t willingly participate in hurting another boy.”
“I don’t think so,” said Tier. “Some of them, maybe, but most of them won’t.”
Seraph smiled. “Then the Masters will be straining to enforce their will upon them with their stolen Bardic Orders. Tell me, Tier, if all of the Path were in the same room together, how many would there be?”
“There are about sixty Passerines,” he said. “I don’t know exactly how many Raptors—I have the names of about a hundred. Perhaps double that.”
“And the wizards,” said Seraph. “You said there were five.”
“Five,” he agreed. “And a handful of apprentice and hedge-witch types.”
“We have an Owl, a Falcon, an Eagle, and two Ravens,” said Seraph. “I don’t know how many ordinary wizards the clan has, but they’ll come along. There are probably fifty Travelers who would love nothing more than an excuse to attack a bunch of solsenti who’ve been preying upon Travelers.”
“You are short one Owl,” said Tier. “They’ve done something so that my magic doesn’t work on them, remember?”
Seraph frowned. She didn’t like the mysterious magic that these Masters had been working on Tier. “That kind of thing works better on wizards than it does on Order-Bearers.” She tapped her fingers against her lips as she worked it out. “You said that it just keeps your magic from working on them, right?”
He nodded.
“That would be a very difficult and odd thing to do on purpose,” Seraph said. “They’d have to have something personal from everyone who is a follower to do that—blood or hair. It would be an incredibly complex spell and the power it would require…” She stopped when a better idea occurred to her. “I’ll ask Hennea to be certain, but it sounds to me that it is more likely that their spell is imperfect and erratic. Hennea told me that they don’t really know as much about the Orders as they think. Blocking the powers of an ordinary wizard would be simple if they had enough power. But in order to block the powers of an Order-Bearer they’d have to be very specific about everything they want to stop. I’ll bet that some of the odder magics still come to you without a problem. Because they didn’t get it right, their spell will be unraveling slowly.” She nodded because the explanation fit what she knew of magic and Tier’s experience here. “Your magic didn’t work on them, because they and you know it won’t work. But even that effect will fade with time.”
She smiled at him. “But even if it doesn’t fade, you have already made your contributions in the number of Passerines who will take your side. If we attack them during the Disciplining, we’ll have the Travelers, both warriors and wizards; our Order-Bearers; and most of the Passerines. You said that the Disciplining is mandatory for the Passerines, but not the Raptors.”
“That doesn’t mean that they won’t be there,” he said. “But I see where you’re going. They’ll all be there, the Masters who are the real danger. Once they are gone, Phoran can take his time to eliminate the rest. We’ll have to talk to Phoran, though. I’ll not bring a clan of Travelers into his palace without his permission if I can help it.”
A light knock sounded at the door, sending Tier to his feet, “A moment, a moment,” he said, glancing around the room, though he knew there weren’t any hiding places.
“Peace,” whispered Seraph. “He won’t see Jes, and—” She turned to Lehr, but couldn’t see him either. “I’m going to have a talk with Brewydd about what she’s teaching Lehr,” she
murmured. “Go ahead and open the door, Tier. He won’t see me either, not unless he’s one of your wizards.” With a whisper of magic she ensured that she’d not attract any notice. Tier’s visitor would see her, but he would just ignore her presence unless something called her to his attention.
Tier’s eyebrows climbed and his mouth quirked with amusement—at himself, she thought. It was one thing to know everyone in your family could work magic; it was quite another to have them do it.
“Toarsen,” he said when he’d opened the door. “Come in.”
“I came as soon as I heard,” said Toarsen. “The rumor’s being passed all over the Eyrie. There’s going to be a Disciplining.”
“I heard,” said Tier. Seraph could see her husband weighing some decision.
“Toarsen,” he said, “if you needed to get in to see the emperor, could you? At this time of night?”
“I–I suppose I could,” Toarsen said, “but not without my brother Avar’s help.” He hesitated and thrust his chin up. “But I won’t do anything that will imperil my emperor—even if he’s a stupid sot more interested in the newest wine from Carek than in running his Empire.”
“Agreed,” said Tier. “What I’d like you to do is persuade your brother to get you in to see the Emperor—tell him it’s urgent that you do so. Then—” Tier paused and shook his head. “Then tell Phoran you have a message for him that you can’t give him in front of anyone except for Avar. The Emperor knows too much about you, my lad, to trust himself to you, but he trusts Avar. When the three of you are alone, you tell Phoran that his Bard would like an urgent word. Tell him that you and Avar will accompany him, if he doesn’t mind. Tell Phoran that I have a plan, but time is of the essence.”
Toarsen stared at him. “Phoran knows about you?”
The Bard grinned wickedly. “Don’t go dismissing your emperor out of hand, lad. I have a feeling that a lot of people have underestimated him, and they’re about to get a rude awakening.”
Toarsen nodded slowly. “All right. I’ll do it. If I can’t get in, I’ll come back alone.”
“Good, lad,” said Tier, patting his shoulder and shooing him out the door. He waited until the sound of Toarsen’s footsteps grew faint.
“That was Toarsen, the Sept of Leheigh’s younger brother,” he said, sitting back down beside Seraph. “He’ll find Phoran for us.”
“You know,” muttered Seraph, who’d been working through Tier’s story while he talked with the boy, “I knew that we were in trouble when all of our children were born Ordered. I should have resigned myself to fighting against another shadowed with the Emperor at my side years ago.”
Jes looked back at her impassively, but Lehr smiled. “Maybe the gods are making you make up for those wells and blights you didn’t fix for all these years in one fell swoop.”
Seraph stole Tier’s eye roll—she could do it when she chose. “Cheeky. Carry them for nine months, feed them, clothe them, and what do I get? Impertinence.”
“Seraph,” Tier asked, “if they want my Order—why didn’t they just take it? Why wait for a year?”
“I’m not certain,” said Seraph, “but magic works better on something you know well. I could cast a spell better on you than I could on a stranger. Their magic isn’t foolproof; a lot of their stones don’t work right. The year wait might be time for one of their wizards to get close to you so that their spells will succeed.”
Tier rubbed his face. “I can’t tell a solsenti wizard from anyone else unless he’s gathering magic, can you?”
Seraph shook her head. “I can see the Orders, if I look. But simple wizards, no.”
Tier yawned. Seraph frowned at him.
“How many nights do you sit up plotting?” she asked briskly, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Boys, can you settle yourselves to being quiet? Tier, you won’t do anyone any good if you fall over asleep. You lie down here, and the boys and I will keep watch until the Emperor comes.”
He started to protest, and it was a mark of how tired he was that he stopped himself. “My love, if you make yourself comfortable, I’ll lay my head upon your lap and dream sweetly for a year.”
“See,” said Lehr in a stage whisper, “that’s how you get women to do things for you. You ought to try it, Jes. Think Hennea will let you rest your weary brow upon her lap?”
“Lehr,” said Jes, “shut up and let Papa sleep.”
Seraph didn’t sleep, though truthfully she was tired as well, but sitting peacefully on the soft bed with her husband’s head in her lap was as effective as a week’s worth of sleep. While she waited she worked on loosening the magic net the solsenti wizards had bound around Tier. She didn’t fight them but just encouraged the unraveling that time would have brought.
When she had done what she could, she half-opened one eye and saw that Lehr was sleeping sitting up. Jes was alert and watchful—he nodded his head at her so that she would know that he’d seen her looking. The very peace that had settled in her heart told her it was really Jes who watched and not the Guardian. She thought it was a good sign that the Guardian would trust in Jes.
She closed her eye and let herself enjoy the quiet.
“Someone’s coming,” said Jes softly.
Tier rolled to his feet and stretched. “Thank you, love. Would you all please stand so that you aren’t directly in line with the door—but no disguises, eh? If this isn’t Phoran, I’d rather keep your presence quiet, but if it is Phoran, I don’t want him thinking that we’re trying to ambush him.”
“There’s three of them,” said Lehr as he obediently shifted over without getting up. “One of them is Toarsen, one of them is wearing a lot of metal, and the third is in soft-soled shoes.”
Tier looked at Lehr in surprise. Well, thought Seraph, she’d told him that the children had been growing into their powers.
“How do you know it’s Toarsen?” Tier asked.
Lehr grimaced, “I know. It bothers me, too. Mother says I’ll get used to it. But I liked it better when I just thought I was a good tracker—bringing magic into it robs me of the satisfaction of having a skill. Toarsen’s wearing leather-soled boots and there’s a nail sticking out of one heel. Gives him a stomp-click, stomp-click kind of walk.”
There was a soft knock on the door, and Jes’s soundless response made Seraph shiver with the cold.
“Who is it?” asked Tier, deliberately sounding groggy and irritable.
“Phoran,” replied a firm tenor not a whit less irritable. “Here at your command.”
Tier grinned and opened the door. “Thank you for coming, Your Greatness. Come in.”
“I really hate that one,” said a young man who could be none other than the Emperor. His bright eyes slid over Seraph and Jes, paused on Lehr, and returned to Tier. “It’s bad enough to be Your Mightinessed and Your Highnessed by people who consider you a fool. But to be insulted for my extra weight”—he patted his waist, which was plump—“is beyond the pale. I hope you didn’t wake me up to meet your family—although your wife is certainly lovely enough to be worth any effort on my part. I’m afraid that Avar is miffed with his brother for having the audaciousness to force him to get me up—and twice as miffed that I hadn’t told him that I was meeting a prisoner in the bowels of the palace.”
Tier grinned at him. “How did you know they’re my family?”
Phoran snorted. “A lovely Traveler lady and two boys—one who looks like her and the other like you? Please, I’m supposed to be a drunkard but I am not a complete idiot. I know that you told me she’d come, but isn’t she a little early?”
He turned gracefully and indicated the big man who’d closed the door behind them—the one Lehr said was wearing metal. “Avar, I’d like to introduce you to Tier of Redern—from your own Sept. Tier this is Avar, Sept of Leheigh, and my friend.”
“My Sept,” Tier said, bowing his head briskly.
“Who are you that you call the Emperor to attend you?” said Avar, ignoring Tier’s greeting.
Jealous? thought Seraph.
“I am his humble servant,” said Tier smoothly.
“He’s helping me,” said Phoran. “The Path is more dangerous than you think. It is thanks to Tier that I realized how dangerous. He’s been helping to find out who the Raptors are and at the same time subverting the Passerines.”
“That’s why you started the sword drills,” said Toarsen, sounding disillusioned.
Seraph, being a mother, heard the unspoken—you didn’t really care about us.
“He told me,” said Phoran, not looking at Toarsen, “that there were a number of young men who wanted but a little direction to be the best chance I had of controlling my empire.”
“You thought we could aid the Emperor?” said Toarsen, sounding almost shocked.
As if, thought Seraph with exasperation for the male half of the species, being used by the Emperor were a great thing.
“I know you can,” said Tier. “Where else is he likely to get a bunch of hotheads who can fight and aren’t sworn men of some Sept or other?”
“Collarn’s job,” said Toarsen. “You arranged Collarn’s job.”
“Actually,” said the Emperor, clearing his throat. “That was me.”
Toarsen’s face was bewildered when he turned to Tier. “The Emperor is a drunken sot,” he said, as if the Emperor weren’t standing next to him. “He follows Avar around like a lost puppy and does whatever Avar tells him to. You, Tier, are a bored soldier who has found a hobby to help make a year in captivity pass more quickly. You find the Raptors annoying and the Masters even more so. So you decided to see what you could do to tweak their tails and gain the admiration of the Passerines. When you started, you found that you actually liked a few of us.”
“I was never allowed to be anything but a drunken sot,” said Phoran coolly, but without anger. “And everyone follows Avar around like lost puppies.”
“I saw a bunch of rowdy boys being led into hell by a pack of carrion-eaters,” said Tier. “As I rather liked some of you and despise men who play games with other people’ s lives—I decided to see what I could do about the situation.”
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