by Jean Lorrah
“The fool! Does he think Drakonius will trust him now?”
“Oh, come, Aradia,” said Lilith, “we all know Hron is loyal as long as he thinks he’s on the stronger side! You sought his alliance too soon. You expect everyone to act on reason and honor.”
“Hron is a Lord Adept-he has his people to think of.”
“Drakonius gave bun his lands,” Lilith replied. “He did not give you yours,” she added significantly.
Aradia drew herself up to her full height. “If you are suggesting that Drakonius gives power only to those he can manipulate, I might remind you that he gave these lands to my father.”
“I’m sorry,” said Lilith. “I did not mean that Nerius could be intimidated-in fact, I believe Drakonius gave him his own lands because he feared that Nerius had the power to take them.” She paused. “Your father still lives?” she asked gently.
“Yes,” replied Aradia. “But let us not discuss Father now. I have brought Lenardo here to demonstrate the use he can be to us.”
Lilith looked again at the paper in her hands. “Indeed-most useful. Lenardo, how did you intercept this message?”
“I was Reading Drakonius when he wrote it.”
“Reading Drakonius? But his stronghold is two days’ hard ride from here! Can you Read that far?”
“Not right now, standing here and telling you about it. I must��� seek a trance state,” he equivocated. “I could not communicate with you at the same time. Normally, I would have another Reader to relay my message to you.”
“His powers decrease with distance, as ours do,” said Aradia.
“Can you Read Drakonius’ Reader?” asked Lilith.
“Yes, I can, unless he shields his thoughts from me.”
“And will he know you are Reading him?”
“Yes. However, that is not how Drakonius found out about me.”
Her eyes snapped to his. “Are you Reading me?”
“No, Lady,” Lenardo replied.
At the same time, Aradia laughed. “Give Lenardo credit for following a train of thought as easily as you or I. He cannot Read an Adept.”
“Ah,” said Lilith, “but you would Read me if you could?”
“You are the Lady Aradia’s guest,” Lenardo replied. “I would not attempt to Read you unless she requested it.”
“Yes,” murmured Lilith, “I am Aradia’s guest. What are you to her, Lenardo?”
“We have��� an agreement,” he replied. “If you understood the Reader’s Code, you would not fear my betrayal”
“Lilith,” said Aradia, “I hope before we leave here to show you that an Adept and a Reader can work together for a common good. But for now��� Lenardo, will yon please Read Drakonius’ stronghold again and tell me whether he is ready to move out?”
“Yes, my lady.”
He bowed and left the room, half hearing Lilith’s question to Aradia, ” Are you his lady?” Deliberately, he did not Read them, and so did not hear the answer.
Drakonius, Lenardo found, was not yet ready to move. In his stronghold Lenardo could locate only one other Adept, a young woman-twenty at most, he judged. As he had learned that Adepts, like Readers, did not come into their full powers until midlife, this could not be one of Drakonius’ powerful allies. An apprentice, perhaps-he could have overlooked her on the other Readings. It was only too easy for a Reader to miss an Adept amid the clutter of other thoughts. Avoiding Galen, he Read room by room through the entire stronghold.
When he reported his findings to Aradia, she asked, “Was Drakonius making preparations to feed and shelter an army?”
“No-in fact, even using the beach as part of the camp, he doesn’t have room for as many men as you have already gathered.”
“Then he plans to meet them elsewhere,” said Aradia. “If only I could have a Reader there in his ranks, to inform you if anything happened���” She sighed. “Have you Read my father today?”
“This afternoon. No change. I will check again before I sleep.”
“Thank you, Lenardo.” She reached for his hand, and he forced himself not to withdraw as a Reader normally would. He was getting used to the way the savages touched each other constantly, meaning nothing by it.
But Aradia’s hand was warm on his, and he felt a pleasant tension between them. The wrong time, he thought, and then was surprised at the thought-no time was the right time for a Master Reader. Something in Aradia’s eyes held him, a puzzled longing���
He mentally shook himself. I’m flattering myself. I can’t Read her, and so I imagine she desires��� No. Aradia had made no overt advances since the day of the infamous bath. Now she was simply grateful for his help. As if to confirm his interpretation, she merely squeezed his hand, saying, “You won’t regret helping me, Lenardo. I promise -you won’t regret it.”
In the morning, Lenardo found things much the same with Drakonius. The camp was designed to move at a moment’s notice; he could detect no sign that notice had been given. He decided to Read Nerius before he went down to breakfast.
In the room above his, the woman Yula was sleeping soundly in the comfortable armchair. But Nerius Lenardo ran down the staircase to the great hall. Reading for Aradia, he finally found her inspecting a new contingent of troops at the lower end of the back field.
He was breathless by the time he reached her side. “Aradia-my lady-it’s Nerius. He’s sleeping.” At her puzzled look, he added, “He’s just sleeping.”
Her eyes widened. “Karl, take over here! Where’s Wulfston?”
“At breakfast,” said Lenardo as they ran back toward the castle. The back door was propped open now, the path between field and castle already well worn.
“Wulfston, come with us, please,” called Aradia as they hurried through the great hall and up the stairs. The young Adept left his place without question and followed them to Nerius’ room.
Aradia was first in and went directly to the bedside. Lenardo heard her gasp “Oh,” halfway between a laugh and a sob. Nerius was curled up on his side, in a perfectly normal sleeping position, snoring softly.
Aradia extended a trembling hand toward his face, then stopped, turning to Lenardo and Wulfston. “Whatever happens,” she said softly, “whether he sees, whether he knows us��� it makes no difference in my gratitude to both of you.” Then she reached up to Lenardo’s shoulders. He almost ducked away as her hands touched his neck, but then he realized what she was doing as she found the chain of the wolf’s-head pendant and pulled the amulet out to hang on his breast, as Wulfston wore his. “Now, if Father can see you, he will know at once that you belong here.”
Lenardo stepped back then, letting Aradia and Wulfston stand before Nerius as Aradia reached out to touch her father’s forehead, just between the eyes. He turned away from the touch, onto his back, stretching and frowning as he came awake.
His eyes opened-the same violet color as Aradia’s-but they were blank. Only for an instant, though. He winced, as if the morning light were painful, and when he reopened them he focused on his daughter. “Aradia,” he whispered.
“Oh, Father!” she cried, hugging him. “You can see me! You know me!”
“Yes, child, but-” As she let go of him he tried to sit up and fell back weakly on the pillow. “What has happened?” he asked plaintively. “I can’t remember. I was blind, and then-”
“It doesn’t matter!” Aradia said quickly. “You’ve been very ill, but you’re well now. You’ve had a long, hard healing, Father. You must rest.”
“My dear child,” he murmured with a smile, then looked at Wulfston. “My boy��� but you’re not a boy any more, Wulfston. You’re a full bearded man. Aradia, how long-?” Lenardo could Read his fear, even though his thoughts remained shielded.
“You’re alive, my lord,” said Wulfston, his voice choked with tears.
“That’s all that matters,” Aradia reassured him. “You’ll remember, and what you don’t we’ll tell you, Father. Don’t waste yo
ur strength now. You must eat and sleep some more. Yula. Yula!”
Lenardo stepped aside as the nurse woke with a start, wide-eyed with astonishment to see Nerius awake. “It’s a secret, Yula,” said Aradia. “I don’t want anyone bothering Father until he gets his strength back.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
“Now run downstairs and bring up some soup. Hurry!”
“Oh, my lord! I can’t believe it!” Then she glanced at Aradia, muttered, “Yes, m’lady, I’ll be right up,” and scurried out as Aradia called after her, ‘Tell no one!”
“Daughter���” Nerius tugged at Aradia’s hand. “What has happened?”
“We’ll tell you everything, my lord,” Wulfston answered for her. “You’ll be up in a day or two.” Tears rolled down his cheeks, unnoticed.
But Nerius noticed, looking from Wulfston to Aradia. “I remember this,” he said. “No one could heal my blindness -not I, not you and Lilith working together. And I remember pain, and gaps in time. How did you heal me, daughter?”
“I found someone��� someone sent to us, Father. No Adept could heal you alone��� but with Lenardo’s help-”
Lenardo stepped forward. Nerius’ eyes widened. “You!” he gasped. “How dare you wear my sign?”
Aradia said, “Father, this is Lenardo. He-”
“I know this-traitor! You would steal my daughter’s powers!”
“No, Father!” cried Aradia. “Lenardo healed you. Don’t you understand? You would have died, Father. Lenardo saved your life!”
But if Nerius heard, he was not listening. Weak as he was, he managed to prop himself up on one elbow and point at Lenardo. “You are the foul beast of my dreams, who would ravish my daughter. Did you think I would trust you because you have stolen my symbol?”
The wolfs-head pendant jerked, and moved toward Nerius’ outstretched hand, the chain cutting Lenardo’s neck. As he reached to lift it away, he was paralyzed, helpless as pain drove into him until the chain broke and the pendant flew into Nerius’ hand. Released, Lenardo staggered, but remained standing as Nerius gripped the pendant, falling back on the bed.
“Thief!” he growled. “You’ll not steal my powers, nor my daughter’s. Throw him in the dungeon!”
“Father, you don’t understand,” Aradia pleaded. “You’re alive only because Lenardo-”
“I said take him from my sight. To the dungeon!”
“Lenardo, you’d better go,” Aradia said softly. But the moment he turned, Nerius cried, “Stop! Whom do you obey, daughter? Who is lord in this castle?”
“You are, Father,” she whispered. “And I will have this evil creature in the dungeon. Take him, Wulfston-or have you, too, forgotten who is your master?”
“No, my lord,” the young Adept mumbled, but his face was contorted with pain. “Come on, Lenardo,” he managed, and started out of the room, remembering to push the Reader in front of him only when they reached the door.
Chapter Seven
Attack of the Dragon
Halfway down the winding stairs, Wulfston stumbled, blinded by tears. Lenardo took his arm and guided him the rest of the way, then took him into his room, knowing they could not negotiate the crowds below until the young Adept got control of himself.
“He’s mad,” Wulfston said. “We thought he might be blind or crippled, but never that his mind��� What can we do?”
“I don’t know, but if anyone can help Nerius, it’s Aradia.”
Wulfston gathered control of himself. “I suppose you’re right. Here-you’re bleeding.” Almost casually, he placed a hand on Lenardo’s neck where the chain had cut him. There was a fleeting instant of healing fire, and the pain evaporated.
Then the young Adept sat down heavily on the stool by the table. “Now what?”
“I think,” said Lenardo, “you’d better take me to the dungeon.”
“But-”
“Nerius is more likely to listen to reason if his orders are carried out.”
Wulfston fingered his pendant. “You’re right. I must obey my liege lord. But at least we’ll make you as comfortable as possible-you might be there for a day or two. Take your pillows and blankets.” He picked up a candlestick and one of the stools and led the way.
The dungeons were underground, chill even on this warm day, and faintly damp. They were also empty. Wulfston tried several cells until he found one that was dry and lit by a tiny barred window at the top of the wall. A narrow wooden bed frame hung from the wall, rusted iron shackles dangling above it. “The best of a poor lot,” said Wulfston, setting down his burdens. “We certainly won’t be needing these!” he added, grasping the shackles and concentrating for a moment, then giving a tug. The bolts came out of the wall as if it were unfired clay.
Lenardo studied the holes in the wall. “You couldn’t keep an Adept in here.”
“No-only a stronger Adept can hold one, or sometimes two or three of lesser power working together. Think of everything you might need while I go get us some food.” He left, closing the cell door.
“Wulfston,” Lenardo called after him, “you forgot to lock the door.”
“I don’t know where the key is.”
“You don’t need a key-you’re an Adept.”
Wulfston’s face appeared at the grill in the heavy door. “Nerius told me to put you in the dungeon. He didn’t tell me to lock it. In the next few days almost everyone will be moving out of here. If you’re not with us, I won’t have you left here helpless. And unless Nerius regains his faculties, we have no hope against Drakonius without your help. If he does return to normal, then he’ll understand what you’ve done for him and let you out. Either way, you’re not going to stay in the dungeon for long.”
“And if Nerius regains his strength but remains convinced that I am dangerous to him?”
“I don’t know. You’re the Reader-you tell me what’s on his mind.”
At that moment Aradia arrived; it was she who provided a tentative explanation. “I’m glad to find you really came down here,” she told the two men. “Father is used to implicit obedience��� and I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to it these past few years. I” must remember that Nerius is my father and liege lord. While he lives, he rules.”
“What if-” Wulfston began.
“He’ll be all right,” she said firmly. “I know what’s wrong-starvation. Wulfston, you remember when we released those people from Verrik’s dungeon, years ago? He was starving his prisoners to death,” she added to Lenardo. “Those who survived were all mad with hunger, hallucinating, just as Father did today.”
“But we cared for Nerius-” Wulfston protested.
“What food have we been able to get into him? Nothing but a bit of gruel now and then. The healing sleep must have used up the last of his reserves, but he’s just eaten a bowl of good rich soup and is asleep again. We must wake him and make him eat every two or three hours. He can’t take much at a time.”
“Do you really think it will help?” asked Wulfston.
“It has to,” she replied. “Lenardo-I’m sorry. Father is very confused about you. He’s afraid you’re going to hurt me somehow. You know how dreams often cobble together unrelated things from our waking life? Somehow, I think he’s got his fear of leaving me unprotected confused with a tangible threat-and when he found a stranger in his room he simply identified you with that threat.” She sighed. “I was wrong to have you wear the wolf-stone openly. Of course Father knew it should not be worn by someone he does not know.”
“I have no right to wear it anyway,” said Lenardo.
“I think you will earn that right,” Aradia told him quietly.
Lenardo was left alone for most of the day, although it was easy enough to keep track of comings and goings about the castle. While Aradia’s troops continued to gather and practice war games, Lenardo Read northward and found another army on the march-toward the west When Wulfston brought him his evening meal, he gave him the information.
Wu
lfston nodded. “Hron. We were afraid of that. He’ll have to go out of his way to avoid crossing Aradia’s lands, but he could still be at Drakonius’ stronghold in a five-day march. From what you’ve said, Drakonius will probably move out to meet him, so we have less time than that Aradia won’t want to leave Nerius.”
“He’s not going to die now, Wulfston. Or harm anyone.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, where the cuts from the chain had healed over so he could barely feel them. “He didn’t even do me any serious damage when he was afraid I might hurt Aradia.”
“Have you Read him today?”
“Yes-he was sleeping again. His body is functioning normally, as far as I can tell. What I can’t tell is how his mind is functioning, or the balance of elements in his blood. I just hope Aradia’s diagnosis is correct-then he’ll be himself soon.”
At noon the next day, Aradia came to get Lenardo. “My father has agreed to speak with you. He is deeply concerned that I made a pact with a Reader, yet grateful that you saved his life.”
“He no longer thinks I came here to harm you?”
“Let him tell you.”
Nerius was sitting up in the armchair, a loose robe covering the thinness of his limbs. His hands, pared to skin and bone, showed the ravages of his long illness, but he was clearly a man on the way to recovery. The querulous-ness and petulance of his wakening mood were gone. He looked Lenardo over calmly and said, “Please sit down, Master Lenardo. If you will permit, let us begin our acquaintance from this moment.”
Lenardo sat, taking the time to choose his words carefully. “I agree, Lord Nerius-but why do you address me as Master?”
“Only a Master Reader could be Reading Drakonius at such a distance and reporting his activities��� unless, of course, you are lying.”
“I am not lying.”
“Perhaps withholding the truth. It is difficult for an honest man to play a false role. From what my daughter tells me, you have no reason to harm us. Indeed, I owe you my life. That fact is indisputable. And yet, when I look at you again in the full light of day, it is indisputably your face I saw in my dreams. I could not see you-I was blind-and yet you appeared to me as a danger to myself and a deliberate threat to my daughter. What do you make of that, Master Reader?”
