Eyes of the Alchemist

by Janet Woods

  “My lady mother wanted me to present a petition before I left.”

  “A petition?” he yelled. “I’m sliding down into bane-knows-where and you want to present a poxy petition?” His other boot jerked off and he roared. “Get me out of here.”

  Javros gave him a companionable smile. “Easier said than done, lord. The road seems to be crumbling and I can’t get a solid foothold. Now, about that petition? If you could just hear it before you get torn apart it would mean so much to my mother. You know how much stock she sets on such practices.”

  Kavan knew when he was licked, and so, it seemed, did Tiana. She stifled a giggle when he glared at her, though her eyes remained bright. “Read the poxy thing - then when you pull me out of here I’m going to rip your flapping tongue out by the roots.”

  “Yes Lord, “Javros said with feigned patience. The youth turned to Tiana and winked, inflaming Kavan even more. “Perhaps you’d be so kind as to remove the petition from my tunic pocket and read it, little trooper.”

  Little trooper? Kavan grinned at the pleasure of her appearance until the material of his pants tore away at the knees. “Hurry up and read it, then,” he huffed.

  “Yes, master,” she murmured with such exquisite, whip-like delicacy he gritted his teeth, and knew he’d make her beg for mercy the next time he got her alone.

  “Kavan, greatest Lord of the Cabrilan,” When an eyebrow rose and her mouth twitched he mentally doubled her punishment. “I beg the indulgence –”

  “Skip that or we’ll be here all day. What’s the petition?”

  Her eyes scanned down the page, stopped for a few moments, then shifted back up. Obviously stunned, her gazed flitted across to Javros. The affection with which they regarded each other made him uneasy. Surely she could not have fallen for the charm of such a silver-tongued scallywag.

  “Do you know the contents of this petition, Javros?” she said, and Kavan felt the pulse in Javros’ wrist leap. He most certainly knew, he’d probably written it.

  Javros nodded and placed a palm over his heart, leaving Kavan dangling precariously by the other. “Not for sure, until this moment, but I’m not surprised. Our minds are too well synchronized for us to be anything less than kin.”

  “Kin?” Kavan roared, eaten up with impatience to get after his quarry, and feeling his breeches begin to tear. “This petition was addressed to me. Is someone going to tell me what’s in it?”

  She blew him a kiss. “It seems that Javros was sired by the Truarc High One. His mother was promised to him, and was already with child when Vandrew captured her to bring to Cabrilan. She passed the child off as Vandrew’s because she feared for his future. She asks that you respect the feelings of his sire and sister in this matter, and allow him remain in your service.”

  “Chrisany had the gall to plead on your behalf?”

  “No Kavan. I added that myself.” The smile she bestowed on Javros was infinitely tender. “So . . . we are brother and sister, Javros. Welcome news.”

  “Welcome indeed.” Kavan rolled his eyes when Javros beamed a smug-looking smile at him. If Javros thought he was kin, he’d be impossible – and Kavan wasn’t convinced.

  “Your lord needs your help,” he snarled, feeling infinitesimally safer when Javros resumed his double grip on him.

  “Of course you do,” she drawled. He tried to ignore the mischief in her eyes. “Pull Kavan out of there, Javros. You’ve had your fun.”

  Javros exerted his strength, then turned sickly pale. “The gravity has too firm grip. I have not the strength to do it alone. Santo, will you give me a hand.”

  Santo didn’t even touch him, just pointed a finger. He shot from the decayed patch like a cork from a bottle and Javros went sprawling on his back. Springing to his feet he grabbed the young trooper by the scruff of the neck and shook him vigorously back and forth.

  Tiana placed a hand on his arm to protest. “Javros has been my protector and guide and I demand . . . great Christos!” she shrieked, for Kavan had plucked her from her feet with the other hand and she dangled opposite Javros.

  “The pair of you deserve to have your backsides walloped,” he roared.

  Her eyes assumed a reproachful look. It touched the special place he’d reserved for her in his heart, especially when combined with her softly spoken plea. “You would not do that to me again, Lord. You promised.”

  “Aye, you’re right, but by my beard, I’m sorely tempted.” He dropped Javros, but lowered her to the ground like the precious baggage she was. He jerked his head at the two men. When they turned discreetly aside he took Tiana’s face between his palms. Gently, he kissed her. “Woman, I’m so glad you’re mine.”

  Her eager response and her smile afterwards was all he needed to boost his resolve. Elated, he tapped Santo on the shoulder. “Can you kit me out in my war gear? It’s time to take the gloves off and put an end to this dangerous situation.

  Javros stepped forward. “You’ll need someone to watch your back, Lord.”

  A few minitix later both of them looked suitably warlike in leather battle-gear and face stripes. Kavan nodded. It was obvious Javros had the high sense required to successfully negotiate the shifting terrain of these chimera worlds. He’d give him the benefit of the doubt, but could not afford to show him favour. “This does not mean you’ll avoid going to the north.”

  “Of course not, Lord, but I’d much prefer staying on as ambassador to Truarc, especially now I discover I’m all Truarc. Think how valuable I’d be with my understanding of Cabrilan ways.”

  Kavan sighed as he set out again. “There are others who will serve the position as well, and those who deserve it more. I will reduce your sentence to three seasons in the north.”

  Javros’ disappointment was almost tangible as he hurried after him. “But, Lord, you charged me to find a Truarc bride and I have someone in mind.”

  “Wait for me,” Tiana cried out, as if determined to find out about this Truarc woman her newly discovered brother was taken with. “If this Truarc girl really loves you she will surely wait, as I had to wait for Kavan.”

  Kavan stopped to gazed down at her, his eyes softening at her unwitting declaration. But this was neither place or time for discussing matters of the heart. Nor was it a fitting place for a woman. He exchanged a meaningful glance with Santo, and nodded. “This is men’s business, get rid of her.”

  “You wouldn’t,” she said, her eyes widening in disbelief, “Not after all I went through to get here. Santo, don’t you dare –”

  He would – and Santo did dare.

  * * * *

  “That wart-tongued lizard . . . that boil on a boar’s back . . . that . . . that . . . flea-brained, flatulent, marsh rat . . . aaaa aaargh!” She picked up a cushion and hurled it across the room. The bowl of red flowers rocked, and then turned over, spilling across the floor.

  The door flew open and a trooper appeared, his sword at the ready. He gazed wildly about him before his eyes came to rest on her. “Are you all right, lady?”

  She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Of course I’m all right. Who told you to come barging in here? Out, and take those flowers with you.”

  “They offend you, lady?”

  “No, the flowers don’t offend me . . . it’s the giver who offends me.” She stamped her foot on the ground to satisfy the tail end of her temper. I’ve never met anyone so pig-headed and so obstinate as Lord Kavan. When he gets back I’ll rip out his liver and feed it to the mountain cats.”

  The trooper backed towards the door, grinning. “The mother of Javros desires an audience with you. But first, Benlogan wishes to speak with you.”

  “Benlogan?”

  “One of Kavan’s advisors.”

  She brightened. Tired of being coddled she’d sent Athene back to her market stall and her husband. Now she welcomed any diversion to help take her mind off Kavan’s infuriations of character. She stooped to pick up the flowers, and, refilling the bowl with water set it ba
ck on the table. “My lord sometimes surprises me with his thoughtfulness.”

  The trooper chuckled. “Aye, he can be thoughtful when it occurs to him.”

  She didn’t want him to think her unworthy of Kavan’s thought. “It occurs to him quite often. These are exquisite blooms, are they not?”

  “Exquisite, and very expensive blooms, lady. They came from the hothouse. Each hothouse blossom has a name to express its meaning. Such a gift usually represents the sentiments of the giver.”

  “Oh?” She gazed at him with interest. “What are these flowers called?”

  “My lady’s heart.”

  Tiana was pleased with this romantic gesture of Kavan’s after their night together. She buried her nose in the blooms, inhaling their perfume until her blush subsided. “What a lovely name, and one that would only occur to someone romantic, like my lord.”

  The glance the trooper gave her stated he thought she was quite mad. “Of course he wouldn’t appear to you like that,” she said blandly. “He’s a man, and so are you.”

  “Yes, Lady.” His face assumed an odd, twisted look, his glance wandered to the ceiling and found something to inspect there. “Make sure you tell Lord Kavan how much you liked the flowers when next you see him. He will be embarrassed by the compliment.”

  Head skewed one side she gazed at him in puzzlement. “I’m convinced you Cabrilan troopers are all insane. Why should I want to embarrass Kavan, for whom I hold the greatest respect?”

  The trooper’s involuntary snort turned into a cough and she giggled.

  “I think you’d better leave before you burst from holding back your laughter. Send in Benlogan now, will you?” He started to chuckle and didn’t quite make it to the door before he began to roar with laughter.

  The man who came to stand before her a few tix later was blind. She dismissed the still grinning trooper, took Benlogan’s arm and guided him to a chair. “You’re Kavan’s advisor, I believe.”

  “I have been of late, though I’m a silversmith by trade and would sooner go back to it.”

  “Is that why you wished to see me, to petition my lord?”

  “No lady. That I’ll do as soon as Lord Kavan has completed his quest. They speak of your goodness and beauty in the marketplace and this I wanted to see for myself.”

  “How can you see, Benlogan? Your sight is dulled by grey clouds.”

  “And has been for many years. But I manage to fashion my silver and feel the beauty of its form in my fingers. Would you allow me the liberty of touching your face, Lady?”

  She took his hands and lifted them to her face. “Only if you let me touch your eyes, Benlogan.” His fingers tentatively began to explore her contours, whilst her palms rested against his closed eyelids. “What do you see, silversmith?”

  “A face without blemish and with great purity of form. Your cheekbones are high and create a cradle for eyes which can be identified by the sweep of your eyelashes as large.”

  “Anyone could have told you that.”

  “Aye, lady,” he said with a faint smile. “I’ve been told your eyes are unusual, and your hair glows in the dark like the summer moon. The aura of your glow is cool against my hands.”

  Tiana’s hands began to tingle as his fingers traced the curves of her mouth. Her mouth was coaxed into a smile as she concentrated on what was to come. She went into a light trance and experienced power surging strongly through her.

  “I shall make something precious for you in silver and pearl,” the silversmith was saying. “Tell me of your eye coloring. Should the setting be enhanced with lapis lazuli, jade or sapphire?”

  “Can you remember colors then, Benlogan?”

  “Aye, Lady. I’ve not always been blind.”

  “Then look for yourself,” she said gently and removed her hands.

  As he stared at her, tears filled his eyes. They spilled down his cheeks and washed the grey clouds away. He sucked in a tremulous breath. “Your eyes are like exquisite emeralds. I’ve never seen the like for beauty.”

  “Why thank you, Benlogan. When you wake you will not remember the healing.” She snapped her fingers.

  He gazed about him in bewilderment, and then rubbed his eyes. A beatific smile crossed his face. “Something strange has happened. I seem to have regained my sight.”

  “I didn’t notice anything amiss with you when you came in,” she said, trying not to smile at the joy bubbling in him. “Now, I believe the trooper mentioned the mother of Javros had come to visit. Let’s not keep her waiting. Will there be anything else, Benlogan?”

  “No, my lady,” he said, his expression a mixture of delight and puzzlement. “I just wanted to see you.”

  “Now you have. I hope I’ve lived up to your expectations.”

  “You’re more than my expectations . . . much more. Lord Kavan is a lucky man.”

  “It is myself I consider to be lucky.”

  He picked up his stick and moved towards the door, looking around him, his smile growing broader with each step he took.

  The trooper had sobered by the time the mother of Javros swept in. Tiana made her welcome and asked her name.

  “Chrisany, Lady.”

  The woman was large with child. Tiana bade her sit and sent for refreshments. “I’m pleased for this opportunity to speak to you.”

  Chrisany looked tired, but said with great determination. “I have a petition to present, my Lady.”

  She lacked the charm of her son . . . in fact she seemed to lack charm of any sort. “If it’s the same one Javros was asked to present to my husband, it has been done.”

  “Javros has not returned home and I thought . . .” She began to weep. “I thought . . . ” A deep breath quickly dried her tears before her eyes had time to redden. “Were you made aware of the contents of the petition?”

  Chrisany was overstepping the mark in her eagerness to promote Javros. “I’m aware of the contents.”

  “And Javros is well?”

  “No harm has been done to Javros. At this very moment he’s acting as bodyguard to Lord Kavan.”

  Relief filled Chrisany’s eyes. “Then my lord has forgiven him.”

  “I cannot speak for Lord Kavan.” As she recalled the indignity of being dangled with Javros in each of Kavan’s hands her smile assumed an ironic edge. Kavan was a law unto himself. “Javros is attempting to talk him into sending him back to Truarc as ambassador.”

  “It’s a fitting position for your half-brother.”

  A servant brought a pitcher of fruit cordial and some cakes. Tiana hid her growing dislike for the woman and poured them both a glass. She offered Chrisany a cake and without mentioning her relationship to Javros, she said politely. “How has your life been on Cabrilan?”

  “Easier than what it would have been on Truarc, though I was often homesick. Vandrew wasn’t a bad man once I got used to him. These Cabrilan men are so . . .?” Her hands went to her stomach and she gave a thin smile, “Well, you know, lady. They don’t bother with the best times and dates for procreation, they just make a pleasure out of it.”

  Which was not at all bad if her limited experience was anything to go by. Tiana only just managed to hide her blush. “Did you love my sire?” she asked her dreamily.

  Chrisany looked askance at her. “The High One was chosen for me by the augur. We mated when the time was right, even though it was just before I came of age. Then I was taken in a Cabrilan raid.” She gave a faint, derisive smile. “I hear The High One exchanged his strength for wisdom when he begat you on Lynx. Once I got used to the lusty ways of my Cabrilan captor, I knew I’d never miss him or the Truarc customs. Did you know the water on Truarc is treated with chemicals to dampen the natural urges?”

  Chrisany’s answer disappointed her, but she was careful, aware she must not pass judgment on Truarc custom lest the woman quote her. “Does my sire know he has a son?”

  “Not yet. I intend to tell him when the planet is one again.” She looked down her nose for a m
oment. “No doubt he’ll use the fact to ingratiate himself with Kavan.”

  “Like you’ve attempted to do with Kavan and myself?” she suggested gently.

  Chrisany lowered her eyes, saying pensively. “A woman who loves her son does everything she can for him.”

  “Javros is no longer a child. Whilst you treat him as such he’ll be the laughing stock of his fellow troopers and Kavan will not be able to see him as a man. I advise you to let Javros go and concentrate on the coming child instead.”

  Chrisany nodded. “As yet, you do not understand the bond between mother and son. It is more than that between mother and daughter. This infant I carry will be a girl. I’ve dedicated her to your service. If you accept she’ll come to you at ten seasons for training, and she and I will live in the manor.”

  “I will think on it. I hadn’t envisaged a child in my employ.”

  Chrisany’s annoyance was carefully hidden. “Lord Kavan was not averse to the offer.”

  “I’m not Lord Kavan and I decide for myself.”

  The woman’s pale eyes met hers in silent appraisal for a tix. When she spoke again her words were measured. “A pity Vandrew didn’t survive to see his daughter born.”

  Chrisany used emotional blackmail in an instinctive, but subtle way, Tiana thought, her eyes narrowing in on her. “The untimely death of your husband doesn’t seem to bother you much.”

  “I prefer not to live alone, but Vandrew left me well supplied with credits,” Chrisany said dispassionately. “Whilst I’m able to breed I’ll soon find another to take his place. Already, the baker is presenting his petitions, but I’m in no hurry to reproduce again – if ever. I might be able to do better. Your sire perhaps . . . once he knows he has a son. After all, we were once betrothed so our natures must be compatible.”