“No worse than my own,” he said. He straightened and sighed. The stiffening wind tugged at his hair. Whoever had cried out was silent now, but he heard the shouts of some argument coming from the seamen’s quarters, along with the thud of fists. There was more noise from the galley, as if someone had dropped dishes. It was late, but those who were awake did seem to be in the grip of a foul temper. It seemed a different ship by night, as if Ghosian’s insidious Smoke had claimed all the vessel’s inhabitants.
“Must you?” he asked.
“It is important.”
Callo remembered he did owe Chiss something—at the very least, his attention for a while. He turned and nodded, leaving the blackness of the sea behind, and headed for their cabin. Chiss followed.
In the cabin, two shielded lamps hung from hooks and the beds were made up and piled with blankets. It looked very comfortable, but Callo felt closed in. He looked back at the deck railing, but Chiss followed him in and closed the door. Then, wearily, he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the mug of wine that Chiss had prepared.
“Where is the Healer?” he asked, trying not to think about the danger he was taking her into.
“Abed, hours ago. There is no one to hear us.”
“What is it, then?”
“My lord.” Chiss paused, as if he was having difficulty putting his thoughts into words. “You should not have the Smoke.”
“I had little chance to refuse it,” he snapped. “Why is this your concern?”
“My lord, Callo. I have known you for many years. Will you trust my words?”
“I have no reason not to. You joined me on this wretched journey. You have never failed me. What would you say?”
“The Smoke. It is not good for the ku’an.”
“What?”
Chiss said: “You are ku’an, my lord.”
Callo stared at his manservant. The Smoke would not release him; he felt dull, with depression still clinging to him. “Nonsense.”
“It is true. You know you are the son of a ku’an. You have his yellow eyes. And now, this ship is caught in some blight of the mind because of it.”
“You say that I have—somehow infected this ship with my black mood?”
“That is what the ku’an can do. They cannot read minds or force actions. But in the realm of emotion they are supreme. A ku’an can induce any state of mind. When he is under the influence of Smoke, his barriers come down, and the whole world shares the state of his emotions.”
Callo stared at Chiss. The manservant’s narrow face was side-lit by the lamps, so that it looked strange to him. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the wisps of Smoke. It was true that the stuff had invaded him, turning his thoughts dark in a way it never had before. But for his grim thoughts to cast such a pall over the ship—no. He searched within himself for the wall of restraint Jashan’s discipline had helped him build and maintain, and found it wavering, almost transparent. He snapped alert, shocked.
“Your sword forms, my lord,” Chiss said. “You should worship Jashan as soon as you may. The discipline will help.”
“Jashan has turned from me since Lord Mikati’s funeral,” Callo admitted, remembering the forms he had done in the clearing near the cliff path where Kirian had interrupted him. “My control has gone.”
Chiss poured him some water and he gulped it. It was fresh and cool. It chased away the stale taste of wine and Smoke. He sighed, looking at his old servant. “A ku’an, am I then?”
“It seems so, my lord.”
“Then I go to the right place after all.”
Memories flashed—his bewilderment when, as a child, his own moods seemed to blow events around him out of proportion. How his childish tempers fueled anger in others, including his old tutor, who had beaten him in an inexplicable fury. How his rage at the other children, who taunted him as a bastard, made their teasing warp into violence. He had learned early, never understanding, the consequences of lack of self-control. He had tried to suppress his moods, without success. That is, until Chiss was hired for him, and told the King that Callo needed the discipline of Jashan’s worship. It all clicked.
Questions nagged at the edges of his mind. Most refused to come clear. He sipped again, staring at Chiss, and began to frown as suspicion grew.
“Chiss. How the hell do you know all this?”
Chiss stood straighter, his chin up. “I hoped you would not ask me that, my lord.”
“Am I supposed to accept that you are the authority on the ku’an—without asking why? That is asking a lot.”
“It is indeed. I will explain—it is very simple. Before I came to you, I served a ku’an in Ha’las. I left him, came to Righar – on this very ship, in fact, before Ghosian was her Captain. I went to Sugetre, and being in need of a position, applied to His Majesty for the position of your manservant.”
“And he welcomed you with open arms, never knowing your history.”
Chiss smiled.
“It is just a coincidence, in fact, that you were chosen to be the closest servant to a ku’an’s bastard son. The only one in Righar, and the King’s nephew.”
“I would tell you so if you were a fool, Lord Callo.”
“Hah!” Callo drank more water, emptying the mug. The smothering depression he had felt earlier was gone. He still felt odd, a little elated, but suspicious of Chiss. “He knew, did he not? And chose you for that reason?”
“He must have,” Chiss agreed. “I hid nothing from him, not wanting to end up strung up on the castle walls when he eventually discovered it elsewhere.”
“And you left Ha’las—why? Gods above, Chiss, you know what I’ll be walking into there, and never told me.”
“I left Ha’las for reasons of my own, my lord.”
Callo stared at Chiss. “That’s all?” The man’s narrow face, so well known and trusted through the years, was as closed as ever. He no longer felt disposed to trust it. He hoped Chiss was not Martan’s tool as well.
“It has to be.”
“You hide this from me for nigh on twenty years, and that is all?” Callo felt anger boiling up inside him now, his moods changing with a speed engendered by wine, Smoke, and betrayal. He stood. “When were you planning to inform me of this? Never?”
Chiss was watching his face. The man stepped backwards, putting his back against the cabin wall. His eyelids drooped, hiding the expression in his eyes, but Callo saw his jaw muscles clench, and noted his hand was shaking. Chiss was afraid of what he might do. That astonished him.
As soon as he realized that, the rage was gone. “Chiss? Why in the world didn’t you tell me this until now?”
“My lord. It is indeed personal, the reason I left. I never even told King Martan. As for why I did not inform you of my history sooner – King Martan forbade me. After all, we did not know for certain that you had any ku’an talent.”
“That’s not true. You knew damn well, when you took me to Jashan’s priests.”
Chiss’ head bent.
“A ku’an’s servant, were you? Who was it? What was he like?”
“He was an arrogant man, my lord. They are all arrogant and most of them are corrupt. They believe their ability and their station in life gives them rights over others. They use their abilities without concern for those around them. They think they are raised above others by their god Som’ur, and don’t care what pain they cause. What else do you want to know?”
“For one thing, can I expect to be thrown into prison for showing my face there?”
Chiss laughed. “Oh, no. I don’t think there’s any risk of that.”
Callo frowned. “You sound very certain.”
“I am, my lord. You have the ku’an’s eyes. As Captain Ghosian told you, there are very few ku’an. They will be desperate to know where you came from.”
“Except the one who already knows.” Callo had so many questions he did not really know what they were, or how to ask them. Chiss stood before him with his head lifted and his s
houlders back, as if he expected punishment. Callo knew he should send Chiss away; any other man would, when presented with such deceit from a servant. But for some reason, he could not think Chiss a fraud. The man had been his loyal servant for a very long time. Chiss was the only thing he had left, the only relationship not destroyed by the revelation of his parentage.
“Chiss. I don’t know what to make of all this yet. But you may stop standing there as if you expect me to slay you. Have a mug of this excellent wine Ghosian left for us.”
“It is very good wine,” Chiss agreed. His shoulders relaxed, and he sat on the foot of his cot and poured himself a mug from the nearly-empty jar. He slugged it down as if he felt he needed it.
“I will have questions for you, Chiss, as soon as my head clears.” Callo stood and yawned, stretching. The cabin walls moved around him, and he did not think it was from the rocking motion of the ship. “Jashan, Chiss, but I think I may be drunk.”
“I would not be surprised,” Chiss said diplomatically.
“But the Smoke is gone from my head, at any rate. At least I think it is. So you can tell me about the ku’an?”
“I have told you what I can, my lord. I was very young, and I was only what you would call a footman.”
“But you know your way around Las’ash. You know what Kirian will have to deal with there.”
“Yes, my lord. A little.”
“I’ll expect you to share that.”
“I will do whatever I can to aid you, my lord. You know I always have.”
“I do know that.”
“And that recalls another thing to my mind, my lord. The Healer came to me after we left the Captain this evening. She was troubled because she has seen the fugitive Healer Inmay aboard this ship.”
“This is the Healer sought by Fortress Mount?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Callo sighed and rubbed his forehead. The seed of what was likely to become a massive headache was growing there, behind his eyes. “Chiss.”
“My lord?”
“I really don’t give a kel—hell, I don’t give a copper for Inmay and his problems. I care nothing where he is or where he goes. Why in the world would Kirian think this was of concern to me?”
“I suppose she is afraid you will think her involved in his escape somehow.”
“Well, I don’t think it.”
“I shall tell her, my lord.”
“Or I will, if I remember. Truly, the adventures of some miscreant Healer matter to me not at all. Does she not think I have other concerns?”
“I think she has been through a lot lately, Lord Callo. I think she wants you to trust her. Remember, she knows nothing of your own concerns, since you have not favored her with them.” Chiss had stopped standing there so stiffly and was now going about his usual evening activities, taking Callo’s cloak from his shoulders and then pouring water into a bowl for washing. Things began to seem more normal, and Callo’s incipient headache eased a little. He sighed. He really wanted things to be normal again, if only for a few hours.
Chapter Nine
Kirian pulled her cloak tight against the stiff wind and closed the door of her cabin behind her. The day was in sharp contrast to yesterday’s wintry brilliance—overcast and gray, the sea white-capped and choppy. The ship’s deck moved uneasily beneath her. She was glad she had eaten little for breakfast.
Not that she wanted to eat much anyway, after the evil dreams that had assailed her half the night. She rarely remembered her dreams at all; yet, she recalled every dark moment of last night’s visions, each one dripping with guilt. She wondered whether such odd dreams could have been sent by a god—perhaps the Unknown God, deity of those like herself who had nothing.
As she approached the bow, she saw Lord Callo. He was doing his form alone on the deck, intent on the disciplined moves of his body and his sword. He wore only a belted tunic and breeches against the bite of the wind, but seemed unaware of the cold. He moved with restrained grace; the movement of the deck did not seem to impede his skill at all. She knew of this ritual; warriors practiced it to reinforce the discipline of training. Jashan’s devotees among the righ said it gained them divine favor.
Callo seemed more than just intent on the minutia of his moves; he seemed exalted, somehow, infused by light. Kirian watched, holding her breath, as he completed a form, his sword held above his head in a stylized salute. The sword seemed to flare with light, although the sun was occluded by heavy cloud. Then he dropped his arms, pausing for a moment before returning the sword to its sheath.
She stepped forward. “Lord Callo, that was beautiful.”
He turned and looked at her without surprise, as if he had known she was there. “Thank you. It is a form of worship, you know.”
“To Jashan, yes, I know. But I have never seen it done.” Apart from that day near the cliff path, when he had seemed so distraught. Then, his face was pulled into lines of worry; now he appeared eased, as if the form brought him peace.
“Are you settled in well?” Callo asked, leaning back against the rail.
“I am. I wanted to ask you though, my lord . . .”
He raised a brow when she hesitated.
“Did Hon Chiss tell you that Inmay is here on the Fortune? And I assume the slave Eyelinn is here as well, though I didn’t see her.”
Callo smiled. “He did. Thank you for telling him—I’m glad you trust us enough to do so. But Healer Kirian, I must tell you I care nothing for Inmay and his troubles. I have other concerns.”
“I thought so. Even though you haven’t told me the reason for your journey, I know you hid from Lord Alkiran’s men on the road.” She saw his brows draw down at that unhappy memory. “And you purchased Captain Ghosian’s silence.”
He laughed at that. “I would be delighted to purchase Ghosian’s silence, but it can’t be done. Ghosian is a law unto himself. I encouraged his silence only. He will keep it as he may, but break it when it pleases him.”
“You informed me before we left Two Merkhan that you flout the King’s will. Something of large concern must drive you, to go to an enemy land in the teeth of the King.”
The smile left his face. “I do not see why I should burden you with my reasons, Healer.”
He was offended—and rightly so. She had not meant to pry—well, she had, but she hadn’t thought he would mind. “Of course not, my lord. I was just hoping for something to guide me. Will you tell me where you mean to go, in Las’ash? Or at least if you intend to remain there long?”
“I have left everything that is mine back in Righar. The King will surely have me killed if I try to return. He probably has taken my lands already—and Lord Alkiran will aid him in the effort to find and destroy me. So no, I do not intend to return soon unless I am forced to. I will be of no use to you when you return to SeagardVillage.”
“I fled for my life from Seagard, so I am glad you allowed me to come with you,” Kirian said, remembering how long it had taken to convince him. “But what is so serious it made you give up all that?”
“Just that I found my life was a lie.” The blunt words surprised her. “I am seeking something dangerous, Healer. I really don’t have any right to take you into Ha’las without telling you what it is. Even I have not really taken it all in yet.” He paused. After a moment she shivered in the wind and cleared her throat. His eyes met hers again.
“It’s all right,” she said. “Don’t tell me now, then. But don’t expect me not to ferret it out in the end. I have a pretty strong urge for self-preservation.”
He grinned. “You do. I can vouch for it.”
“And also, my lord, please call me Kirian.”
He gave a little bow. “It is a beautiful name.”
She felt herself blushing. “Thank you, my lord.”
“We will be together quite a bit from now on. Please call me Callo. There is no need for all this formality between us.” She had not expected that. He was a righ, bastard or not, and the righ were so jeal
ous of their status they guarded every syllable of title, every outward show due their rank, as if it were diamond. She nodded, unable to think how to respond.
“Kirian, please join Chiss and me in our cabin after the noon meal. I understand we will be docking near first light tomorrow. We need to discuss our options. That is, if you don’t want to go your own way.”
“It’s my understanding I can’t. Isn’t there some law about a woman being accompanied by a man at all times?”
“We’ll talk about that. But if you decide you would rather stay on the Fortune and go to the next port of call, you may. I have funds for your passage.”
“I have funds as well, my lord. Callo.”
“I remember. Ten kels.”
Kirian laughed, remembering his appalled look as he saw the sum total of her funds to support a stay of a sennight or more in Two Merkhan. She supposed he would have little reason to know how cheaply one could survive. His needs were supplied by his servants, out of the produce of his land, or gifted by his powerful uncle, and she was very sure he had never bought linen in the market or a ticket on the Sugetre caravan. Let alone survived on bread and beans in the charity orphanage, as she had before she was taken in by the Healer’s College.
“I am more than content to disembark with you at Las’ash.”
“Good.” His golden eyes were glinting down into hers. He was standing very close now, his broad shoulders blocking out the view of the bow. She caught her breath and stepped back.
“I will see you after the noon meal, my lord. Thank you.” She retreated, smiling at him so he would not see her confusion. He grinned back and turned to grab his cloak from the section of railing he had tied it around, and she fled—there was no other word for it. The wind chapped her cheeks, but they were hot with something else; she could hardly believe the sudden attraction, the heat she felt when she was near him. And he a lord of the land, the King’s nephew, no matter in what disgrace! He was everything she had always despised.
As she left the bow, she looked up. The Leyish lady, who had giggled so much at dinner last night, stood on the upper deck, her bright robes fluttering about her. She watched Lord Callo. The lady called out a greeting, and Callo looked up. Kirian kept walking.
Color Mage (Book 1) Page 14
