Then Saljane let out one of her strident kek-kek-kek-kek cries and landed in the center of the parchment strewn table, scattering papers and tipping ink pots as she flapped her wings to steady herself.
“What in the Dark Lord’s name is this?” demanded Karalis Vasalis in a low, almost guttural voice, slapping his hand on the tabletop.
“I assure you I don’t know. Reikon?” The Iisand’s cultured voice was collected and mild, despite the tightness of his lips. The man with the redtail hawk shook his head, eyeing Saljane.
“It’s not one I’ve seen before.” He returned Iisand Samir’s regard with a piercing look, as if trying to communicate something.
“But it is ahalad-kaaslane,” one of the wizards said in a nasal voice, his tone accusing.
“Indeed,” Reikon answered laconically.
The wizard, bald-pated with a fringe of white around his ears, turned red, his fleshy nose quivering. “Your Grace, I must protest,” he said, turning to Karalis Vasalis. “How can we proceed with this . . . this—” Before he could find a word sufficient to his outrage, Karaliene Pavadone forestalled him.
“Kvepi Mastone, I would also like to get to the bottom of this.” She gestured at Saljane, who, at Reisil’s suggestion, dipped her beak. Karaliene Pavadone smiled, a sharp, knowing smile. Did Reisil read approval in her expression? “I confess surprise at your suggestion that we delay proceedings until we find an answer, especially given the passion of your exhortations. I am gratified to find you so reasonable. Are you not also, dearest?” she asked her husband, who nodded, his eyes gleaming at the wizard’s stammering discomfort as he tried to protest.
Deftly Karaliene Pavadone turned to Iisand Samir, ignoring the grumbling of the lords farther down the table. “Will you consent to look into this matter? We shall give you two hours. That must be sufficient, I’m afraid, for we must have swift resolution of this and other matters. In the meantime, we shall seek out our wayward Kvepi Buris and Dure Vadonis.”
At her last words, Saljane mantled and gave a piercing cry. The four monarchs and three ahalad-kaaslane gave her an intent look, then exchanged furtive glances. Seeing this through Saljane’s eyes, Reisil gave a crow of triumph.
“They know something! Sodur, Juhrnus and Ceriba must have made it. They’ve been waiting for us.”
“They’ll be waiting a good long while if they don’t do something about these wizards,” Edelsat said. “If Sodur, Juhrnus and Ceriba got there, why hasn’t someone done something?”
“Maybe they are hoping to expose the rest of the traitors. They have to know that the treason runs high—and now they know there are wizards involved. You have said that Karalis Vasalis has been at odds with the wizards since he took the throne. That he’s tried to muzzle their power. He has to know that at least some of them are behind this—how else to account for today’s wizard night? And Iisand Samir cannot be certain of his own people either. The Karaliene has neatly disbanded the meeting for two hours. Saljane accompanies the Iisand and the ahalad-kaaslane. Maybe they have something planned.”
“Let’s hope so. Kebonsat’s holding his own, but he’s getting tired. He’s not fighting to win, but to prolong the battle. We’ll not be permitted to hang about once it’s over. If Kebonsat and Covail weren’t ranked as high as they are, we’d have been cleared out of here much sooner. As it is, the guards are just waiting for them to finish.”
Reikon, the strikingly handsome ahalad-kaaslane with the redtail hawk, carried Saljane on his gloved fist. He followed Iisand Samir and Mesilasema Tanis, flanked by the other two ahalad-kaaslane, and trailed behind by an angry cohort of Kodu Riikian lords and a squad of the Iisand’s personal guard.
They retreated down from the pavilion and into a tent, ignoring the rumbling of the crowds filling the rest of the pavilion. At the door of the tent, the lords were summarily dismissed and the guards left to stand watch outside.
Inside, Saljane flapped to a perch on the back of a chair, swiveling her head to watch each of the others in turn. Reisil gasped as the drapery at the back of the tent was drawn aside and Sodur, Juhrnus and Ceriba entered from a small room at the back. Ceriba looked pale and frightened, but resolute. She clung to Juhrnus’s arm, surprising Reisil. Juhrnus had done well, giving the frightened woman support and friendship. Reisil found herself feeling proud of her childhood nemesis.
“Saljane!” Sodur exclaimed, seeing the goshawk. She dipped her head at him and he smiled. “Blessed Lady be praised. They have arrived.”
“It seems so, but where are they?” asked the ahaladkaaslane woman, her corvet leaping to the ground to touch noses with Lume.
“Outside the wizard circle, or they would be here,” Reikon said in his low, melodic voice. “But how did this pretty one get inside? I tried to send my Vesil out, but the barrier closes over us like a dome.”
“She must have come before they put up the barrier. But why?” asked Iisand Samir, tapping his bunched fist against his thigh.
“To bring a message, one would think. But she’s not got jesses, and if she carried something, it’s gone now.”
Saljane gave a cry and flew to Ceriba, landing at her feet.
The Iisand frowned. “She had something for you? Or no, more likely your father. And your father didn’t turn up for the summit.” The Iisand looked at his wife, then at the gathered ahalad-kaaslane. “I don’t like this. No one would dare harm the Dure Vadonis unless the blame could be set on us, or the evidence removed.”
“Which points to a wizard. Only they can get out of the barrier they’ve put up,” said the other man whose ahalad-kaaslane was a wolf. He spoke in a staccato voice. “And that ties our hands. We have no powers to counter them. One or two, maybe. But there must be a thousand of them gathered here and throughout the encampment. This could very well turn into another Mysane Kosk. And Karalis Vasalis won’t be able to stop them if that’s what they decide to do.”
“There must be something we can do!” exclaimed the chestnut-haired woman, slapping her fist into her palm.
Silence answered. Outside the barrier, Reisil sat behind Edelsat, appalled, her stomach lurching. It could not come to this. Surely the Blessed Lady would not allow it.
Her chest burned.
Reisil’s mind snapped free of Saljane’s and she clutched at her chest. Beneath her tunic she felt the Lady’s gryphon amulet. She yanked it out. The eyes of the gryphon blazed red as the rising sun. Reisil cupped it in her hands, her mind scrabbling to understand.
Then it came to her like a beam of moonlight and she knew what to do. Magic to counter magic, a healer to heal Kodu Riik, a warrior to battle evil, a weapon for the Lady’s hand. She was all four. The power she’d been given could heal, but it could also be turned to another use. She felt that alien hand inside her, as she had felt it the night before in the grass hut. It gathered itself into a fist.
“Is the wagon here?” she asked Edelsat in a choked voice, never looking up from the amulet.
“Just now. But Kebonsat’s come close to killing Covail twice now, and has let himself be nicked up pretty good. Can’t go on much longer.”
“It doesn’t need to.” Reisil reached out to Saljane in the royal tent of Iisand Samir.
~Bring them to me, ahalad-kaaslane.
At her behest, Saljane leaped into the air, gliding to land before the tent opening. She impatiently looked over her shoulder at Sodur, giving one of her strident calls.
“By the Lady,” Iisand Samir breathed, staring.
“Her eyes! Look at her eyes. Look at her beak. What does it mean?” Mesilasema Tanis put her hand up to cover her pink mouth.
“It means we still have hope. Reisiltark wants us. She must have a plan. I suggest we follow,” Sodur said.
“Bethorn, take word to Karalis Vasalis,” the Iisand ordered the ahalad-kaaslane with the wolf. “Reikon.” He nodded for him to open the tent flaps.
Saljane gave another kek-kek-kek-kek and hopped through. Bethorn hastened away, and Iisand Samir cal
led for his guards. Saljane leaped into the air, circling low, her piercing cry urging speed.
Reisil broke the connection with Saljane and slipped from the back of the horse. Edelsat jerked around. His mouth fell open and then snapped closed as he jerked back.
“What’s happening?” he whispered. “You eyes . . . they’re red as fire.”
Reisil looked up at him. Her eyes must be reflecting the burning red of the gryphon amulet. Not for green healing, this power. Not this time.
“Get back. Take Kebonsat with you. Hurry. You don’t want to get caught up in this.” Reisil’s voice sounded remote, like living flame.
She turned away from Edelsat, trusting him to evacuate Kebonsat to a safe distance. She paced toward the ring of wizards. She could see the barrier now, like an overturned bowl the color of stagnant water. The faceless wizards held it before themselves like a shield, held it over themselves like a trap. Fury coiled in Reisil like the winds of a tornado. They felt themselves invulnerable, and they visited their heartless arrogance on their people and the people of Kodu Riik with death and destruction. No more. The Blessed Lady would have it no more.
The air about her crackled silver sparks. She lifted her arms up to the sky and felt power coursing through her like molten metal. She felt herself smiling a death’s-head smile—the face of justice. Inside the barrier she saw Saljane. Her ahalad-kaaslane’s eyes burned red and her beak streamed gold.
~Come to me, Saljane!
Another step. And another.
She felt the wizards pour more energy into the barrier as they sensed her impending attack. She laughed. Could they stand against lightning unleashed? Against the fist of the Lady as She claimed justice?
Reisil was just an arm’s length away from the barrier and Saljane was just beyond, streaking toward her like an arrow of fire. Reisil held out her fist to catch Saljane and took the last step, into the barrier.
There was a wild explosion of silver and black, as if the heavens shot forth a hundred bolts of lightning to shred the night. The sound of it shattered glass and echoed to the Dume Griste mountains.
Reisil stood as if rooted in the soil, Saljane clinging to her fist, the two sharing a single, fierce mind. All around them the earth spun into the air on a tornado of pure energy. Reisil stood within the barrier and felt each of the three hundred wizards circling about the Enclave Point like a living chain. She felt incongruous tears rising in her eyes and mourned for the life that must be pruned away. But pruned it must be.
She reached out her arms and sent blistering shafts of energy through the chain. The power crackled and, one by one, each wizard winked out like a blown candle, until the barrier was gone, until all that was left of the wizards were black, smoking husks like a charred string of pearls.
Reisil stood a moment, power roaring inside her as the alien hand withdrew. She could do more, much much more. She could destroy every one of them, every wizard, every Patversemese soldier. The temptation pulled at her. If there was no Patversemese army, no more wizards, there could be no war.
Sudden horror gripped her throat and she yanked back on the ready power. How could she even think it? Snakes, rats, fleas and leeches each served their purpose in the cycle of life. To annihilate the wizards out of hand would ruin the balance. To kill the army would be entirely evil. These men had families and children.
The power subsided quickly. Reisil felt it draining away into the ground and air. But it wasn’t really gone. It would always be there, waiting. Like lightning in a jar. What trust the Lady had put in her!
She glanced at Saljane, whose eyes had returned to the familiar amber, and whose beak no longer glowed, though the tracing of golden ivy remained on her beak, as it did on Reisil’s own face.
~We are Her hands. We will never break Her trust.
She felt Saljane in her mind, the pride, the emotion deeper than love, the devotion to the Lady. Reisil nodded, then looked around at what she’d wrought.
The Enclave was now ringed by a border of scorched earth, broken every few paces by the smoking remains of a wizard and melted blobs of iron that had been oil lamps. Reisil stood keystone at the center of the destruction.
Silence reigned, punctured here and there by piteous moans and agonized cries as those who had stood too close found blood running from their noses and ears. Acrid smoke drifted in a dense, ghostly fog, making Reisil tear and blink. She turned. For a hundred-pace radius around her, a hollow gouged into the ground, fully three feet deep. She stood on a narrow island in the center. Beyond that, a fearful crowd assembled—soldiers, lords and ladies. She turned again, looking for Kebonsat and Edelsat. They stood on the edge of the hollow, faces gray, staring at her, aghast. Blood ran from Kebonsat’s forehead and cheek; more soaked his right sleeve. She turned again.
Sodur stood before her on the floor of the hollow, Lume beside him. He smiled gently, holding out a hand to help her down. She transferred Saljane to her shoulder and took his hand gratefully.
“Quite a show,” he said in a comfortingly normal voice.
“Let’s hope it’s enough. I’d rather not do more.”
Sodur stopped, looking into her face sharply.
“Could you do more?”
Reisil lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, avoiding his searching gaze.
After a moment he said, “You have come a long way since becoming ahalad-kaaslane. It is said that wisdom is not given. We must discover it ourselves, after a journey through the wilderness that no one else can make for us, and that no one can spare us, for wisdom is the point of view from which we come at last to regard the world. I could not imagine that you could have made such a journey to such wisdom and courage in such a short time. But the Lady saw far better than I. You are indeed all that she could have hoped for in her chosen one. I am proud of you.”
Reisil felt herself blushing and she squeezed Sodur’s hand gratefully.
“I don’t feel wise. I feel lucky. Blessed.” She stroked Saljane and the goshawk nipped at her fingers.
At the edge of the hollow another hand reached down to help her up. She clasped its callused warmth and found herself face-to-face with Reikon. He smiled at her, as gently as Sodur had done. “Bright evening, Reisiltark. I am Reikon. I am pleased to meet you at last.” Reisil had no time to reply as the chestnut-haired woman with the corvet slapped her on the shoulder.
“Well done! I am Fehra.”
Juhrnus added his congratulations, and Ceriba touched her hand. Reisil felt warmth from these people, pride. They did not fear what she’d done, what she was capable of. She smiled gratefully at these strangers who were her family. Then they were interrupted by the Iisand Samir’s cultured tones.
“We are indeed pleased to see you, Reisiltark. And amazed. But we must resume our council with Karalis Vasalis if we are not to see the war reborn. Where are your companions?”
“Are you sure you want to?” asked Fehra, her expression as feral as her corvet’s.
The Iisand stilled, his face becoming hard and unforgiving.
“What do you propose?” His voice was soft, dangerous, but Fehra pushed on. As ahalad-kaaslane, she had no need to fear him.
“We now have power to counter the wizards, so we don’t really need this treaty anymore. Especially with Scallas going after Patverseme’s other flank. We could beat them.”
“We might indeed win, but the cost would be too high. One more death would be too many. You’re talking about revenge, and while I certainly don’t mind seeing those wizards sent back to the Demonlord, I’m not going to put my people through any more fighting if I can help it. If nothing else, what Reisiltark has done here will help firm Patverseme’s commitment to the treaty. They can’t afford two battlefronts.”
“The Lady told me She wanted peace,” Reisil added softly. “Knowing Her will, I could not aid in further war.”
That ended the discussion. Fehra looked disappointed, but not angry. Upsakes must have had support among the ahalad-kaaslane. Could Fehra
have been in on the kidnapping? There was no way to tell. Reisil resolved to keep an eye on the other woman.
Just then Edelsat and Kebonsat arrived with the wagon of prisoners. The group retreated back to the pavilion, where Karalis and Karaliene waited with Bethorn. The two monarchs of Patverseme held themselves stiffly apart, looking pale and suspicious.
Seeing Kebonsat and Edelsat, they thawed slightly. Kebonsat held Ceriba firmly against his side, brushing aside her concerns for his wounds.
Reisil they eyed with chill aversion.
“I wasn’t aware that Kodu Riik had any wizards,” said Karalis Vasalis to Iisand Samir. “My people will not respond well to this slaughter.” His nostrils flared and Reisil could feel his anger waxing hot. He might be at odds with the Wizard Guild, she thought. But Kodu Riik was his enemy.
“As mine did not to Mysane Kosk,” retorted Iisand Samir.
“We were at war then. We are not, now.”
“No, we are not. Do you wish to be?”
A muscle in the Karalis’s cheek twitched as the Iisand waited. Finally he gave a short shake of his head.
“No. But I don’t know how I’ll explain this to my people.”
“You can tell them the wizards are traitors,” interjected Kebonsat.
“What do you mean?” Karaliene Pavadone skewered Kebonsat with her glittering stare.
“We killed a wizard who was helping the kidnappers, and another plotted with Kvepi Buris to prevent us from getting here.” Kebonsat described the attack tersely, leaving nothing out. When he came to his healing by Reisil, his eyes flicked toward her, but once again he avoided her gaze.
He was afraid of her, Reisil realized, and felt a sudden sickening in her stomach. She liked him, had enjoyed his company. Her cheeks flushed in sudden realization of her own feelings. She cared for him more than that. But if the healing had terrified him, she wondered what he’d made of her destruction of the wizards’ circle.
She bit her tongue against the grief bubbling up inside her. There wasn’t any time for it.
Path of Fate Page 33
