“My health is fine, Kyra. I keep myself fit, you know.”
My face was on fire with embarrassment. “I mean – in the baby-making area. All those drusse – and no children—”
“I have two children who are assuredly the fruit of my loins, and not the result of a sordid roll in the meadow with a baker’s apprentice. Unless you wish to question the behaviour of the Lady Cerandina? Or – my drusse. Hmm, her name escapes me, it was so long ago.”
“Well, exactly, Lord. No babies recently. Would you like me to check—?”
His face was stony. “No, I would not. There is nothing wrong there, I assure you, nothing at all.” Then, more softly, “Kyra, a man knows when his equipment is working and when it is not.” A chuckle. “Mine is in perfect working order. You may ask your sister if you have any doubts.”
I was too mortified to answer him. I knew perfectly well that a man could do the deed with exemplary diligence, and still not produce a child. I also knew that it was not wise to question a man’s ability in that respect.
It was Cal who stepped in. “Lethon, no one impugns your virility, but people will gossip. A routine check with Kyra’s special abilities would set any rumours to rest. You have done so much already for Gracious Lady Deyria, why not this one last thing?”
The Kellon looked at him, and then at me. “I would not need to undress? You do not need to touch the relevant parts?”
“No, no, certainly not!” I squeaked.
“She only needs to hold your hand, Lethon,” Cal said, amused. I suppose it was funny for him, but I cringed with embarrassment. I had only meant to be helpful, but I’d ended up suggesting the Kellon was incapable of sex. No wonder he was offended.
He moved to another chair and sat down, neatly folding his legs as before. He held his hand out to me. I knelt on the floor and took hold of it, closing my eyes and concentrating. I hadn’t seen enough examples to be sure, but it struck me that his colours were what would be expected of an older person – duller, less vibrant, with small patches of brown here and there, as organs were becoming weary with age. Where the bright red of healthy genitals should be, larger patches of deep brown, almost obscuring the red altogether.
I had so much magical energy in me after removing Deyria’s spell that it fizzed into him at once, without me doing anything intentional, a gushing golden stream, sparkling like sunlight. Almost before I knew it, all the brown was washed away, and all his colours became clearer. I couldn’t say that they were as vivid as a younger person’s, for age must have its price, but the genital colour was now more red than brown, and his stomach, heart and other organs were much improved.
As soon as I removed my hand, he glared at me. “What were you doing? I could feel a warmth, a sort of tingling – down there.”
“I – erm, I just gave you a little burst of magic all over. Like a spell of general good health, you know?”
“And did you detect any deficiency in my baby-making facilities?”
“Everything is in perfect working order.”
“As I told you. Quite unnecessary to check, but you women will fuss, eh?” He chuckled genially, shooting a conspiratorial glance at Cal. “Shall we go and find Ria? She has had the kitchens in an uproar making all your favourite dishes, and twenty different kinds of cake, at least.”
As we followed him out of the room, Cal leaned towards me and whispered, “Nice escape there. You’re developing diplomatic tendencies.”
It was the first unsolicited kind remark in several suns.
31: Durmaston
We stayed several suns at Ardamurkan, catching up with old friends. I went to see Mani and Lora, who wanted to know every lurid detail of my adventures at Kingswell. They’d heard all manner of rumour, and were gleeful to discover that the truth was even more dramatic. I looked in on Marisa and Elissana, who smiled over my expanding waistline and gave me motherly advice, which I hardly needed since the baby would be going to Drei after one moon. Cal skulked in the mages’ house, returning to the hall each evening in an even fouler temper, if that were possible, but then I suppose he’d had to see Raylan.
I had to go too, one sun, to be poked and prodded by the mages, and talked about as if I wasn’t there. “And she needs no vessel?” they asked Cal. Or: “She heals just by touch? How does that work?” He patiently explained, while I sat there like a prize cow at the farmers’ market, fuming. Or a performing dog, I suppose. If I had a piece for every time I popped a flame for them, I’d never need to work again. But it was funny watching their bewildered faces, and one or two of them tried it themselves, getting red in the face from the effort and not producing so much as a puff of smoke.
Most of my time was spent healing, though. My success with Deyria meant that every last pimple and sniffle and bruise in the hall was brought to me. The nobles got their healing for free – which seemed odd to me, that those best able to pay didn’t have to – but the general healing rooms were filled to capacity, too, and they brought silver with them. It was all good experience. I saw more variety of internal colours than I’d imagined possible, so that I began to know instantly what was due to ageing or some long-standing problem and couldn’t be fixed, and what was due to recent illness or accident and could. I never saw any purple, though; that was unique to Drei. My only real failures were with skin complaints. Anything internal I could see and, usually, fix, but the surface of the body was beyond my reach.
One case was a wealthy merchant, brought in by his wife and drusse, since he was blind. I was dubious of my ability to help him, for long-standing blindness is almost impossible to cure, but he was insistent.
“It is a spell,” he said firmly. “That bastard Meyrick, he could not keep me down by honest means, so he spelled me. Wanted my best contracts, he did. Never got them, heh. But I would like my sight back, Lady. The mages here – useless, the lot of them, but you fixed up the Kellon’s sweet lady, you can fix me too. Name your price, I am good for it.”
It seemed unlikely to be a spell, but as soon as I touched him, I could see that he was right. From the outside his eyes looked perfectly normal, but to me they were a vivid orange.
“You have been spelled!” I said, shocked. “But that’s a terrible thing to do to anyone!” And difficult. It was hard to imagine the number of variances and conditionals and dependents a spellpage for blindness would need.
“Ha! I knew it! Now I can get the law onto the bastard. But can you fix it, dear lady?”
I could. There was more resistance than with Deyria, but after a few heartbeats I gently drew the magic out of him and into myself, until the orange colour was gone. It’s a wonderful thing to watch a man regain his sight, and look around with amazement at the world new-born before him. His wife and drusse cried, he cried, and I confess that I cried a little too. He pulled out a velvet purse and tipped an astonishing amount of silver onto the table.
“All yours, dear lady, and the best value I ever had.”
Cal counted out the proper fee, still quite a substantial number, and scooped the rest back into the bag. The merchant didn’t want to take it, but Cal pushed it into his hand and firmly folded his fingers round it. “We are only permitted the set fee. Buy some treats for your two ladies. Or give it to the poor, but we can’t take it.”
“I’d do it for nothing if I could,” I said sadly. “It seems wrong to charge for something that’s so easily set right.”
“Ah, but it is a matter of supply and demand,” the merchant said. “Everyone wants perfect health and perfect children and bountiful crops and good weather, but there isn’t enough magic in the world to provide it. So it has to be rationed. Besides, think how dull life would be if we had nothing to grumble about, eh, dear lady?”
No one else had been spelled against their will, but I came across several where a spell had gone wrong, or one that was necessary years ago but no longer wanted. I loved releasing these people from spells that had kept them captive for years, but there was an unfortunate side effect
– all their trapped magic now resided in me, leaving me overflowing with energy, just like after a renewal.
By the time we left Ardamurkan, I was practically flying, I was so energised. Before, I’d used sex to release some of the excess, but with Cal and I fixed in our very proper mentor and pupil roles, that wasn’t an option. I was no longer bound to Drei, so it wouldn’t have broken my contract, but Cal had been so foul-tempered and rude to me lately that I didn’t want to beg any favours from him. He might even refuse, and that would be too humiliating. I just hoped that the surplus energy would wear off in time.
We were a smaller party now, just the carriage driver, Cal’s servant and a pair of guards, their horses jogging along in our dust, or occasionally on the grass verge alongside the road where the trees cast some shade. Not that we needed guards to protect us, but the laws regarding mages dated back to moon-fall, and weren’t likely to be changed now.
~~~~~
It was three years since I’d been in Durmaston, and I’d not thought much about the place in that time. I’d been too busy with my own affairs. When I did think about it, I imagined it the same as it always was. Nothing ever altered in the village, except that people gradually grew older, the children took over their parents’ work and life went on as always. That stultifying lack of change was why I’d left, after all.
There it was, exactly as I’d expected. Oh, there were small differences. Manya’s farm had a new shed at the back, a couple of houses on the main street had repainted their doors and one had replaced its roof. There were new fences, and some houses had extensions added. But mostly it looked the same. We arrived late in the afternoon, a time for gathering on porches and unwinding before evening board, and as the carriage rolled into the village, people turned to look, recognised me, smiled, waved. Two or three of Dracia’s brood ran alongside for a while.
“Stop! Stop the carriage!” I shouted, and banged on the roof to alert the driver. As soon as the carriage jerked to a halt, I opened the door and jumped down into the dust.
Cal was half asleep, but the noise woke him. “Are we there? This isn’t the guest house.”
“You go on, I’m going to see my family. I need to stretch my legs.”
“What about evening board? Shall we wait?”
“No, I’ll get something later.”
In truth, I couldn’t bear to be cooped up in the carriage any longer. If the windows were closed, the heat was suffocating, but if they were open, the dust was choking. I had to be outside, walking, breathing the clean air.
The carriage lumbered away down the road, and at first I followed it, surrounded by a cluster of bouncing children. People nodded and smiled to me and called out greetings. A few even bowed to me, making me very self-conscious. Then I turned onto a smaller road running off towards the forest, lined by deserted barns and a few cottages, and one by one the children and bystanders disappeared. I was not alone, however. One of the guards tailed me, dismounting to walk just a few paces behind me, leading her horse.
I stopped to let her catch up. “I’m sorry, I’m keeping you from a bath and your first ale of the night, I expect.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll catch up later. It’s my job to see you safely to wherever you’re going.”
I gestured towards the quiet lane. “Yes, I’m in so much danger here. And I’m so defenceless.” I popped a flame or two.
She didn’t laugh, though. “Your magic won’t protect you from an arrow in the back. There could be an archer behind that shed right now. Or crouched behind those barrels over there. Not that there’s much risk of that here, but that’s my real job. Mages are too important to the realm to wander round the countryside unprotected.”
I hadn’t thought of that. She was not just a useless extra passenger, she was truly watching my back. “I don’t even know your name,” I said, rather ashamed.
“I’m Tisha, and my comrade is Morthan. He’s a dick, you don’t want to get friendly with him, or he’ll have his hand on your tits before you can blink. All the male guards are like that, smile at them just once and you have to fight them off. By the way, Lady...” She looked down at her boots, either shy or embarrassed. A cough. “You and the other mage...? Are you...?”
“Me and Cal? Oh, no. He’s just... We’re colleagues. Friends. Nothing more.” Was that true? I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t about to admit my uncertainties to a guard.
“So you won’t mind if I...? I mean, this is a long trip...”
My throat tightened. Cal with another woman? I didn’t like that idea much. “I wish you luck. He’ll likely bite your head off.”
A chuckle. “I know how to make a man smile. Is this road going right into the forest?”
“No, we turn off just beyond that red cottage, see? That lane will bring us back to the village stone. My family live very close.”
“Ah. The long way round. I get it.”
It was indeed the long way round, and gave me a brief respite, but I couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. I could hardly believe how nervous I was. This was my own family, after all, my home, where I’d grown up. Even though I’d chosen to move away, to make a life elsewhere, they wouldn’t resent me for that, would they? Maybe not, but they might not welcome me, either. Perhaps we’d meet again as strangers, and sit making polite meaningless talk over specially made cakes.
It took about three heartbeats for all my fears to evaporate. I’d written to tell them I was coming, and there they all were on the porch, watching out for me. They were looking the wrong way, expecting me to arrive from the village stone, so I saw them first, saw Deckas turn towards me, saw his face light up, saw all their faces explode into joyous smiles. How could I ever have doubted them?
Tisha left me there, surrounded by my family: Mother and Father, Ginzia and Rolland and all their children, Galnan and his betrothed, Alita, and Deckas, as tall as a tree now, but still the same wide grin. There were cakes, too, and a lot of excited exclamations over my expensive clothes, my many drusse earrings and, most of all, my visible stomach. Then they wanted to know all about Deyria and the Kellon, and I could give them the happy news that she would be the Asha-Kellon at last. Later, much later, came the tentative, roundabout questions regarding my magic. That was the hardest thing for them to understand, that dull little Kyra, the awkward one of the family, the one who never fitted in, could be quite so stupendously different.
Galnan was thrilled that I had come all that way to attend his wedding. His young lady, Winora, was a seamstress with many customers already, work she could pursue just as well from Galnan’s home as her own, and he was no longer merely an apprentice to Father, but a wood-turner in his own right, with a growing reputation, so they were well set for future prosperity.
I wondered how Alita would like the situation. With Ginzia married, and Deyria and I gone, she had been the only other woman in the house for some time, apart from the servants. Now she would have to adapt to Winora living there.
“I really like her,” Alita told me, when we had a moment alone, “and it makes sense for her to move here, rather than the other way round. She has three older sisters, and her home has no room for any more babies. Whereas Mother’s been waiting for someone to bring her grandchildren for years. She was so disappointed when Ginzia went to Rolland’s home, you know.”
“What about you?” I said. “Wouldn’t you like to bring her a few grandchildren too? It’s not as if you’ve had no offers.”
She pulled a face. “Tomas is very persistent. You remember him, the baker’s son? But... I don’t know, marriage is so final, Kyra.”
“You’re still working at the bakery, then?”
She blushed. “No, actually. I mostly work at the inn. Bonnor expanded and needed more workers, so I help out there.”
“Bonnor, eh?”
A deeper blush. “Come on, Kyra, I never meant anything to him, you know that. I was just a bit of fun for him, long ago. There’s nothing going on there, nothing at all.”
/>
I wondered uneasily if she knew that Bonnor had written to me, asking me to marry him. I’d told him to think about Alita, but it seemed he hadn’t. Poor Alita! Still dreaming of Bonnor after all these years.
The evening passed in a pleasant haze, and I stayed for evening board and then a bit longer, for it was still light. After the initial strangeness had worn off, I felt completely comfortable being at home again.
Yet something felt odd, slightly out of kilter, and it took me a while to work out what it was. It was the new furniture that I noticed first. The battered old settle from Mother’s parlour was gone, replaced by a velvet-covered long chair, with a fine new rug covering the bare floorboards. The board room had a new side table, Father had a clock – a clock! How much did that cost? – in his workshop, an extra servant had been taken on, new paint in several rooms, everyone’s clothes looked less patched and worn. There’d never been money for such things before.
The Fire Mages Page 35
