It was quieter now. She heard only soft groans and a few exchanged commands, and looked up the bluff. Grau held down a hand. “I think it might be over,” he said. “Should I come down for you?”
“I think I can climb…” She stepped onto a rock, and from there, reached for one of the roots. She managed to scrabble up the wall high enough to catch his hand, and he pulled her up onto the bank.
“You’re all right,” he said, embracing her tight.
“You’re all right,” she replied. “But…Rawly…” An arrow had gotten him right in the knee. One man was dosing him with pain medicine while the other pulled the arrow out—but Velsa looked away before she saw this act completed.
“We have a few serious injuries,” he said. “But we’ll heal. We’re Daramons.”
“That’s right!” exclaimed another soldier. “The Miralem hardly stand a chance anymore!”
Not so cocky, now…
The voice was in their heads again, and it followed the statement with a sudden brunt of pain. Velsa shrieked and grabbed Grau, but it was no use. The pain came from within her own body, and Grau could not soothe her anymore than she could soothe him. His eyes were squinted shut as he made a shuddering sound, trying to fight off the invasion.
The moment seemed to go on and on forever. The pain was so powerful, it became the only thing that existed in the world. She was screaming and men around her were screaming. Their scream was like one endless sound.
Velsa raged at it. Her fury came from the same place as the pain itself. The pain almost seemed to feed her. The golden band was hot around her neck, so hot it was burning, but she would fight past it if it was the last thing she did, because this had to stop, or she would die of the agony.
She felt something snap, and suddenly it was over. Completely over. It seemed like the men should have been spitting up blood, for how that felt, but everyone was fine.
Grau let go of Velsa and ran toward the trees, on a mission. The men followed behind him, except the ones tending to the injured. Grau thrust a hand out, and one of the trees shook out a woman as if she were a nut.
“The telepath,” Grau said, but they all seemed taken aback to find a woman. Rifles pointed at her, but no one fired.
“If you dare breathe,” Grau said, “we’ll fire.”
Lieutenant Dlara approached from the camp. “Did you get him?”
“It’s a she,” a man said.
“I surrender,” the woman said. “Please…I didn’t know you had a telepath among you.”
“A telepath?” Dlara said. “We certainly do not.”
“You must! No mere sorcery could have thrust that pain back at me. Some Halnari traitor, no doubt?”
Dlara looked at Velsa. He knew immediately.
“Show me your neck, Velsa,” he said.
Velsa was trembling now. They were all looking at her and she couldn’t imagine what the consequences would be. She unfastened the top clasp of her jacket, showing the edge of the golden band.
“Do you have the key with you, Sorcerer Thanneau?”
“Yes.”
“Take it off of her.”
Grau produced the small golden wand. He looked unsure, but he followed orders, walking up to Velsa and tapping the band with the tip of the wand. The band split, and he removed it from her neck.
A rush of warmth flooded Velsa’s entire body. The air seemed to crackle with thoughts—a vague sense of fear and uncertainty that they all shared.
“Give it to me,” Dlara said.
“No, no,” the Miralem woman pleaded.
Dlara ignored her so completely that Velsa didn’t think he had experienced any of the pain. The telepath must have directed it only at the group standing atop the bluff, sparing anyone in camp. He snapped it around her neck. “Now go,” he said.
She had her fingers wrapped around the band, tugging on it as if it might break for her, but Velsa knew that once on, they were seamless and as strong as a diamond. The woman ran for the bluff, shouting curses.
“Now,” Dlara said. “I need you all to realize that Velsa fought on our side today. If certain people back in the camp hear that she is telepathic, and certainly if this leaks back to the higher ups, she will be sent away. I do believe her presence has brightened our squad and I have no reason to believe she would hurt us. So if you value what she did for you, in any small measure, I hope you will all keep your mouths shut. I know we have a golden band back at camp, so I’ll restore hers when we return.”
At his last words, Velsa almost sniffed back a sob.
For a moment, she thought she was free, but of course—Grau was right. Having her telepathy unbound in the camp was risky.
Feeling the warm power flowing through her body like blood, she thought she might die if a new band closed around her neck.
Maybe I should have chosen freedom, after all…
The men were solemn now, gathering the Miralem bodies and making a grave. Grau helped speed up the process by moving the earth. He received compliments from everyone for his skill at manipulating the elements.
No one thanked her at all. They looked at her as if she might turn on them at any moment.
Only when they were riding home, and she could hide her face in Grau’s back, did the small sobs come. They forced their way out of her, no matter how hard she tried to restrain them.
Grau reached behind him, found her hand, and pulled it against his heart.
“Your skin is warmer,” he said.
“I felt—warm—when the band—”
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I just don’t know what else to do.”
She understood this went beyond his own fears. And she understood those fears, too. Her powers were not controlled.
It still felt unbearable.
“Can you feel my thoughts now?” he asked softly.
“I feel that you’re scared, a little bit. But I don’t know whether you’re scared of me, or of Miralem, or other soldiers finding out back at camp and sending me away. It’s faint.”
“All of the above, maybe,” he said. “With an extra dose of awareness that we shot Miralem dead. I didn’t do it with my own hands, but I was certainly a part of it all. They might be bandits, we might be considering war, but…well, it isn’t easy to watch.”
“No…”
He kept ahold of her hand as they rode back. When they returned, the sight of injured men brought everyone running. For those who hadn’t dealt with the killing and the pain, this was simply the most exciting story they might hear in months.
Dlara immediately led Grau and Velsa back to headquarters. Velsa sat stiffly while he brought out the new band.
“I’m sorry,” Dlara said. “I know they aren’t pleasant to wear. But we couldn’t permit you to be here without it. I have to act for the safety of everyone. Including you. And we do know, if you are really in danger, you’re able to tap into your powers. If I went by the book, I couldn’t allow you to be here at all.”
“I understand,” she said curtly.
Dlara handed the band to Grau, but he passed it to her, as if he thought she might prefer to do it herself.
“No,” she said. “You do it. I can’t make my own hands do this to myself.”
He hesitated. Dlara watched them patiently and kindly like a doctor delivering bad news. Velsa felt the faint new warmth in her own hands, warmth that came from her own power and not from Grau.
Grau lifted her hair and locked the band around her neck, choking off the warmth.
She clenched her fists. In this moment, she hated Dlara and Grau both. She should have gone with the Miralem. Surely someone in the Miralem lands could break the band’s magic.
She should have chosen her freedom.
“Velsa…,” Grau said.
She got up and walked to the door. She had to walk or she would yell at him. She’d tell him every dark thought she had ever harbored against him, and he would hate her; yes, he would, even if he said he wouldn’t. No Fanarlem was supposed to have the
se feelings.
“Velsa!” He followed her. “Please understand—”
“No! No, no, I’ll never understand. Don’t touch me right now.”
“I’ve been told to fear Miralem all my life—”
“And what else have you been told? What were you told about me, about my people? I’m not a Miralem, anyway, I’m a Fanarlem. I’m a Fanarlem who ought to be emotionless, and submissive. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? It must be, because it’s what you were told you’d be getting, and instead you got me.”
“I don’t know what you really want me to say. I was young and stupid and I feel like I’ve aged ten years since I met you. I’ve already told you I wasn’t sure I’d buy a girl that night. I didn’t really know what I’d find. I wanted magic and I found a real woman, and I’ve never regretted it, even when it’s hard—but it is hard. It’s hard because I love you, and I have to endure all the things people say and do to you, and half the time there’s nothing I can do about it. But I know it’s even worse for you, many times worse. I do everything I can to make you—”
“Happy?” She clutched her head, trying to stop herself. She sounded so angry—was that even her own voice?
She couldn’t stop. These words had been building up for so long. But she tried to calm herself, just a shred. “You chose me knowing I was telepathic, and I hoped against hope that one day you would set me free. Those Miralem today offered me freedom, and I stayed because of you, but…that old woman said I was a fool, and she was probably right. I love you, Grau, but I hate this world…and sometimes I even hate you.”
He looked struck, before snapping back, “Why?”
“Because of this!” She tapped the band. “Because you want a wife. But not an equal. Before we made love, you said you had been waiting for the day when I would be yours. You still see me as your possession, like all the rest, it’s just that you’re patient.”
He looked past her. “And you wonder why I don’t want you reading my mind.” He sighed. “I was so enthralled by you from the start. And everyone tells me to treat you that way. Everyone else tells me you’re a tainted soul, even Kalan Jherin, the man I used to believe spoke to fate itself, and it’s only my gut and the look in your eyes arguing the other way. It’s a wonder I don’t question it more often, but your eyes are the most powerful force in my universe.”
She met his eyes, then, and she could have said the same to him.
“Velsa, I wouldn’t have bought you if I didn’t see the way you looked at me—like you wanted to belong to me.”
He took her hand, then he reached in his pocket for the small golden wand that locked her band. “I belong to you the same way. If you had gone with the Miralem you would have crushed my heart. I would have done anything to get you back. And if I had known you left of your own will, because you couldn’t bear that I locked your powers away…I would have to give you this.” He closed her hand around the wand.
“I can’t take off the band,” he said. “You know the men will be watching you now. But at least I can give you the key to your own prison.”
She held the key a moment. The key, that had bound her all her life. At the House, she never even knew where it was kept.
She threw her arms around him, flooded with relief. “Thank you, Grau.”
“Now, shall we join the others outside? I bet Rawly could use some cheering up.”
“First, let me make an internal pocket to keep this. It’s too important to lose.”
“You mean, inside of you?”
“That’s right. I’m useful that way.” In the room, she searched the Fanarlem repair kit and found a scrap of fabric just large enough to hold the wand. The entire headquarters was so empty, she dared to slide her pants down a bit. She cut a few of the stitches that held her leg to her torso, around the same place a pants pocket would fall, just wide enough to nest the pocket under some of her stuffing. “See, now if I need the wand, I can reach under my jacket like I’m getting something out of my pants pocket, but it’ll really be inside my leg.”
“This is good to know. We might have to make you a few more pockets.”
“Just not too many or I’ll be full of little holes.”
“But I could sew secret objects up inside of you…” He looked intrigued.
“Nothing too heavy! But yes. You could. I read a story once about a Fanarlem girl whose rib cage contained a magical goblet that her creator hid inside her.”
“I’ll have to think more deeply on this development later.”
She rubbed his leg with her foot. “Does my storage capacity turn you on?”
“Well…maybe not put like that…”
The camp was bright with bonfires and some of the men were already singing of victory when Grau and Velsa joined them. Flagons lifted to Grau. “There he is! We were just talking about you, Thanneau. Tell ‘em how you found that telepath in the tree!”
“Simple, really. If you talk to trees, they talk back. It just takes time. I’ve been talking to them for weeks already, so they know me.”
“Like taming an animal,” someone observed.
“I wouldn’t say you can ever really tame a forest,” Grau said. He drank some of the wine that was offered, and asked after Rawly.
“Here!” Rawly waved from a chair, his knee bandaged.
“Feeling better?”
“A good dose of healing potion works wonders.” He reached for Velsa’s fingers and gave them a kiss. “Thank you for your services today,” he said under his breath.
She couldn’t help a smile. “I’m glad I was able to do it.”
“We have to make sure you get home safely to your girl with the large breasts and crooked eyes,” Grau said.
“Oh, stuff it with that already.”
Dlara joined them shortly for some harmonica music, and Grau whirled her around in a dance. No one else even tried to ask her for a dance now. She wondered if someone in their squad had whispered to others that she was telepathic. Even Flower wasn’t glaring at her tonight.
The men in Grau’s squad gossiped about the Miralem: “Did you see how old some of them looked? Why don’t they shape-shift those wrinkles? It’d be nothing for them, and they don’t do it.” “Seems a shame that a few of them got taken out just for trying to steal a few rifles and books.” “But I’ve heard that stuff can fetch gobs of gold at their markets. They’re dying for Lord Jherin’s treasures.” “How times have changed! Must really sting to know they’re not the chosen people anymore.”
They might not have so much to boast about if I hadn’t been there, Velsa thought. But they’ll never admit that a Fanarlem concubine saved their lives…
Grau suddenly sat down, looking a little green. He must have been drinking more than she realized.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Should we go back to the room?”
“Maybe…head’s spinning.”
“How much did you drink?”
He made a noncommittal noise. “People kept handing me more…”
She helped him up, but her body couldn’t really support his staggering weight. “Come on,” she said sternly. “It’s not far but you have to keep it together.”
It seemed to be hitting him so fast. She wondered if someone had given him harder stuff and he hadn’t realized. He probably had some remedy for this in his bag, if she could just get him to bed. They made their way around the celebrating men, and Grau stumbled through the grass. When they reached the main building, he leaned forward and vomited on the ground.
She jumped back, quite disgusted.
He slid to the floor, barely conscious now. This was so unlike him. The men were always drinking in the evenings and he rarely had more than a glass. Even at the dance when he and Preya both seemed to want to dull their sense in drink, he had kept his head.
“Grau?” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay with me. Did someone poison you?”
“Hmm…” His usual ‘hmm’ sounded dazed rather than thoughtful.
“Wait here, then. I’ll get healing potion.”
She ran to the door and headed for the stairs, but no sooner had she stepped into the stairwell than one of the guards grabbed her. He’d been waiting in the stairwell. She was so surprised that he had already pulled her hands behind her back and cuffed them before she realized what had happened.
“A telepath, huh?” He lifted her over his shoulder, holding her legs so she couldn’t kick. Her arms were useless trapped behind her.
When he walked her back out into the hall, Flower stepped out of the shadows.
“Darling, I’ve got her,” the guard said.
“Velsa,” she said. “The unsung hero of the day, so I hear. I’d better not take any chances. Flip her onto her back.”
The guard grabbed Velsa’s hair and pulled her back down into his arms. She tried to reach for her power as Flower approached. She couldn’t seem to fight past the band at will.
As the guard held her head rigid with his tight grip on her hair, Flower kept Velsa’s eyes forced open as she dropped liquid into them. A potion, of some kind. Because a Fanarlem’s soul was held in their eyes, it was the only spot they could be affected by potions.
The ceiling seemed to dance above her. Velsa shut her eyes. “Did you slip this to Grau…?”
“Of course, my dear,” Flower said. “Now, I certainly do wish I had time to sew your mouth shut. I’ve dreamed of sewing up that little mouth. But we’d better get moving. Potions don’t work for long on Fanarlem.” She tied a gag around Velsa’s mouth. The gag had been made with obvious forethought—a wad of cloth was sewn to the inside, stuffing her mouth but she was unable to swallow it away with the vanishing spell. Any sounds she tried to make were very muffled. And then Flower tied a blindfold around her eyes.
Flower led the way, showing the guard out a side door. Velsa struggled to maintain awareness. The bouncing motion of her body as the guard ran with her in his arms was making her feel sick, as if she had a stomach full of wine herself. Her stuffing seemed to have a mind of its own, swishing around inside her. Of course, this had to be an illusion—that potion couldn’t affect her stuffing—but it certainly felt real. She shut her eyes, trying to muster control, but it was almost impossible between the hands twisted painfully behind her, the mouth full of cloth, and the potion swirling through her thoughts.
The Sorcerer's Concubine (The Telepath and the Sorcerer Book 1) Page 17
