Veleus sighed. “I didn’t come here to start an argument. I’ll go find Montibeus.”
When they were alone, Vatar turned to Cestus. “You should have told me.”
Cestus shrugged. “I was directed not to.”
Vatar’s eyes narrowed. “By Veleus?”
Cestus gave his head a single shake. “No. By my superior, Montibeus.”
Vatar gripped the arms of the chair. “You’ve been reporting to him all along haven’t you? Veleus. Telling him about me.”
Cestus sighed. “Yes. He asked. He wants to know more about you, Vatar. He cares about all of his children. Including you. He really will help you, if you’ll let him.”
“I don’t want his help! I have a father, already. I don’t need him. And I don’t trust him. Not after what he did to my mother.”
“What did he do to your mother?” Cestus asked.
Instead of answering, Vatar walked out the door and headed back to Uncle Lanark’s house. He’d had as much of this as he could stand tonight. He needed time to clear his head and make up his mind what to do now.
~
Vatar paced back and forth from the gate to the kitchen door, trying to decide whether he was going to his next lesson with Cestus or not. He didn’t like to admit it, but Veleus’s warning really had frightened him. Uncle Lanark seemed to take the threat seriously, too. One thing Vatar was very clear on—he never wanted to go back to that island ever again as long as he lived. Just the thought of all that water made him shudder.
Anyway, he liked his lessons. What Cestus was teaching him was useful. Vatar kicked at one of the flagstones and stomped back to the gate. He’d go on with these lessons just as long as they were worthwhile. Not because the High Council ordered it. Certainly not because Veleus wanted him to. Not even because the Smiths’ Guild approved. Because he chose to. He let himself out the gate and marched toward the Temple and his lesson.
Cestus wasn’t in the classroom they usually used. Vatar went searching for him and found him sitting alone out in a quiet corner of the Temple garden.
“Vatar!” Cestus greeted him. “I’m glad you decided to come back after all. I wasn’t sure after the way you left last time.”
“I only came back because the lessons are useful and I enjoy them. Not because anybody’s forcing me to,” Vatar answered in clipped tones.
Cestus smiled. “Of course.”
Vatar looked around the manicured garden. It was strange, even by Fasallon standards. The trees were all stunted and small, their trunks and branches twisted into fantastic shapes. Even stranger, they grew up out of a bed of washed sand that looked as though it had been combed. At the exact center was a tiny pond on which a single lily pad floated. “What is this place? And what are you doing out here by yourself?”
“It’s a meditation garden.” Cestus sighed. “I was attempting to meditate, but it wasn’t working. I’m just too easily distracted—even here.”
Vatar mulled that over but still couldn’t make any sense of it. “What’s the purpose of this meditation?”
Cestus shrugged and gave him a slightly embarrassed smile. “You asked, so don’t blame me for bringing it up. Our magical Talents are strongest when our minds are calm and focused. My Talent has always been minimal, almost non-existent. But I’ve also never been able to maintain the right frame of mind. My brain just keeps flitting from one thing to another when I try to be quiet. So, I keep hoping that if I manage to reach the right mental state, I’ll show some greater Talent, enough to warrant further training.”
“Why does that matter so much?” Vatar suppressed a shudder at the thought of magic. Cestus rarely spoke of the Fasallon magic and Vatar preferred it that way.
Cestus shrugged. “Among the Fasallon, status depends on Talent. The more Talent you have, the higher you can rise. My lack of useful Talent is the main reason I’ve been held back from the teaching positions I want.”
Vatar thought that over. Maybe it wasn’t as completely wrong-headed as it sounded at first. “Oh. Try that islet I was stranded on.”
“Why? Did something happen while you were there?” Cestus asked a shade too eagerly.
Vatar paused. Had something happened? That was the first place he’d dreamed of the girl with hair the color of flame. No. That was just a dream. There was certainly nothing odd in a young man dreaming about a girl. He shook his head. “No. It’s just that when I was alone out there, after the moon set, I could hardly see anything in the dark, and the only sound was the waves. It almost put me to sleep, even cold, wet, and hungry. I can’t think of a place with fewer distractions.”
Cestus accepted this with a nod. “Oh. Well, it’s worth a try, I suppose. Thanks.”
Chapter 16: Called Home
Vatar worked at the forge, singing to the iron beneath his hammer. Sometimes, when he lost himself deep in the work, he’d see the face of the red-haired girl, Thekila, again. It never lasted long, though. Rarely, he’d see other things. Pictures of his family, now at the winter camp or maybe just preparing to leave for the spring camp closer to the plains. Just imaginings of what they’d be doing about now. It wasn’t anything like the magic Cestus had described to him. They never lasted long, either.
As he raised his hammer, a new image drifted across his mind’s eye. Mother, sweating and writhing in pain. This one was accompanied by that tingling feeling between his shoulder blades. He let the hammer fall as he drew in a sharp, hissing breath. “Mother.”
“What?” Uncle Lanark asked.
Vatar shook himself. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t. “Nothing. For a moment, it seemed that Mother was ill.”
Uncle Lanark made a warding sign after the fashion of the Caereans, two fingers raised like horns.
Vatar shook his head as if to clear it. “That’s not likely. Mother’s never sick. The only time she was ever ill was at Kiara’s birth. Well, and the two babies before who died.” Giving his head a final shake, he went back to work, but he didn’t sing along with the iron. Why would he imagine his mother sick? It didn’t make any sense.
~
Vatar had forgotten the incident when he was pulled out of his class at the guildhall and sent to the Guild Master’s office. Seeing Uncle Lanark and Arcas sitting there instead of the Guild Master brought it back and sent a chill down his spine. There weren’t many reasons Arcas would be back in Caere this early in the season.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Vatar asked.
“It’s your mother, Vatar.” Arcas licked his lips and swallowed hard. “She’s pregnant and she’s very ill. Uncle Danar sent us—me and a couple of Dardani to make sure I made it across the plains without getting lost—to bring you back.”
Vatar collapsed onto one of the benches as his knees gave out. His head spun so fast he couldn’t seem to absorb this news. He remembered one thing out of the chaos of his thoughts. Mother’d always been careful to take precautions after Kiara’s difficult birth. Irrationally, he focused on that one thing as if it could make the rest not true. “But how? She chews Uza leaf.”
“There is no Uza leaf in Caere, Vatar,” Uncle Lanark answered. “Your parents were here until late in the summer.”
“But she could have gotten Urulu weed from the Healers,” Arcas said. “She must have known that.”
“She wouldn’t have gone to the Healers, son,” Uncle Lanark said.
Vatar raised his head. “Because of me.”
Uncle Lanark nodded.
Oh, sky above and earth below, it could be true after all. His stomach sank. And it was because of me. Vatar chewed his lip. No. It was because of Maktaz. That thought fired him to action. He leapt up. “I have to go home.”
“You can start in the morning, as soon as the sun is up. I’ve already cleared it with the Guild Master,” Uncle Lanark answered. “You might as well come home now and start packing.”
Vatar started for the door, mind racing with calculations of how many days it would take to cross the plains. He
wouldn’t have many preparations. Just shove a few clothes in his saddle bags. A horse, though. He’d need a horse. Well, Arcas and his guides would have ridden here. Either they’d have brought him a horse or he’d just use one of theirs. Arcas probably wouldn’t mind staying home with his parents for a short while. Nothing else he really needed to do. He’d catch up on any instruction he’d missed when he got back.
Instruction. His lesson with Cestus was tomorrow night, but he wouldn’t be here. If Veleus was telling the truth, there might be trouble over that. Well, Vatar wouldn’t be here to deal with it. No. But Arcas and Uncle Lanark will. And Aunt Castalia. Vatar stopped, biting down hard on his lip. He wanted to run straight out onto the plains, but that would be stupid. Much better to leave in the morning—early in the morning. And there wasn’t much he needed to do between now and then. “I need to tell Cestus that I’ll be gone. If I don’t show up for my lesson, there may be trouble.”
After a moment, Uncle Lanark nodded. “You go to the Temple. We’ll get things ready for you.”
~
After asking several people he met in the confusing hallways of the Temple, Vatar found Cestus in the library.
Cestus rose to greet him. “Vatar, what’s wrong?”
Vatar paced across room. “I’ve just had word from home. My mother is very ill. I’m leaving tomorrow morning to go to her. I wanted to let you know that I won’t be here for my lessons for a while.”
Cestus sat down heavily. “Oh! I’m sorry, Vatar. What’s wrong with her? Do you know? Is there anything I can do?”
“She’s pregnant and it’s not going well. The last time she was pregnant, she almost died. I was very young, but I remember.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
Vatar smiled weakly. “I don’t see what. But thank you, anyway. I have to go. We ride at sunrise.”
“My thoughts and prayers will go with you, Brother.”
Chapter 17: Help
Cestus watched Vatar’s retreating back. “You may not know how I can help, but I do, Brother.” Cestus closed his eyes tight and concentrated. Contacting his own father in the Palace, just across the little strait, was the farthest limit of his Talent. “Father?”
“What is it, Cestus?” Veleus mental voice responded at once.
“Vatar. His mother is very ill. He’s leaving for the plains at sunrise.”
“Wait for me by the dock. I’ll be right there.”
~
Veleus stood in the shadows as Cestus knocked on the smith’s door. Cestus nearly bumped into him stepping back when an unfamiliar man who must be Lucina’s brother answered the door. “I . . . came to see Vatar.”
Evidently at the sound of his name, Vatar appeared behind the man. “Cestus. What do you want?”
Veleus moved forward into the light.
Vatar took a step back, eyes narrowing. “What did you bring him for?”
Veleus stepped forward into the front room. “Cestus told me about your mother, Vatar. I want to help.”
Vatar’s posture relaxed slightly. He stepped back to allow both Veleus and Cestus into the front room. “I don’t see how you can help.”
Veleus smiled. “Use your imagination, son. There’s a lot I can do. Would sending a Healer help?”
“The Healers would never go so far from the city,” another boy, perhaps a year younger than Vatar said.
“They will if I ask them to,” Veleus answered with confidence. “Would it help?”
Vatar swallowed. “I don’t know. It might.”
Veleus nodded. “Then I’ll send a Healer with you.”
“We’ll be riding hard,” Vatar said. “We planned on just Ruar and me, leaving Bolar to see Arcas safely back around midsummer. Nothing will help if we get there too late.”
Veleus nodded. “Yes, I understand that. The Healer I send will be able to ride with you.”
Vatar choked and offered his hand. “Thank you.”
Veleus gripped his hand. “It’s nothing, son. I told you I would help you, if I could.”
The other boy’s eyes widened as he looked more closely at Cestus and especially Veleus. “Vatar, that’s—”
Vatar squared his shoulders and turned to face the other boy. “Uncle Lanark, Arcas, this is Veleus. My . . . my father. And Cestus, my half-brother.”
Arcas swallowed hard.
Uncle Lanark hissed, “Vatar!”
Vatar shrugged. “Uncle Lanark, their Council knows who I am. I’m not proposing to tell the whole city. But there’s no reason to keep it secret from family anymore.”
Veleus smiled. He might—just possibly—get to know this son after all. But first things first. He reached out with his mind and silently contacted the Healer he knew best.
“Boreala?”
“Father? What can I do for you?”
“I need a Healer, skilled in birthing, to ride onto the plains at sunrise tomorrow. He’d best be a very good rider.”
“I’ll go myself.”
“Is that wise?” Veleus asked, slightly alarmed.
“Why not? There aren’t very many men with the skills you need. And I’d just as soon be out of the city for a while right now, anyway.”
Veleus sighed. Vatar wasn’t the only one of his children with a problem right now. He was just the one Veleus could actually do something to help. “I know you would. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right, Father. You tried.”
He had, but this time Gerusa had beaten him. Small and frail-seeming Master Healer Boreala, possessor of a rare Talent, would not be permitted to risk herself by marrying or—most especially—by trying to bear a child of her own. Gerusa could still cause more trouble, too. It was only right that Veleus warn her. “If you leave now, so soon after the High Council’s decision, there may be trouble.”
He could almost see Boreala’s shrug. “Well. So it will be Boreleus who leaves and Boreala will be indisposed. It seems to be what the Council expects, anyway.” The bitterness in her voice chilled him.
“Will you be able to maintain the transformation that long?” Veleus asked.
“Father, I’m stronger than I look, whatever the Council thinks.” Her smirk came through the connection clearly. “Anyway, I don’t intend to maintain it all the way. Just until I’m safely beyond the city gates will be long enough. Who else are you sending?”
Veleus made a decision. “I’ll send Cestus with you. And Vatar, of course. It’s Vatar’s mother that needs your aid.”
“Vatar? The one you told me about?” Boreala asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be with two of my brothers, then. What could be safer?”
Releasing the contact, Veleus said aloud, “It’s all arranged. We’ll leave you to make your preparations. And we’ll make ours. Cestus will go along, too, if he’s willing. Not to hold your leash,” he added hastily, seeing Vatar’s face. “He has some training. He can assist the Healer. And he’s an excellent rider. Everything will be ready before sunrise.”
Vatar accompanied them to the door. “Thank you, again . . .” Vatar swallowed hard as if tasting the next word. “Father.”
It was the first time Vatar had addressed him as “Father” and it made Veleus smile. Not that he was fooling himself. This was just a small step, a tiny crack in the shield of Vatar’s resentment. It was important to him, just the same. With luck, it could be the start of a better rapport between them. Veleus fervently hoped so.
Veleus nodded, not pushing the delicate bond too far. “You’re quite welcome, Vatar. Come back when you can. Now that we begin to understand each other, I’d like to have a chance to get to know you.”
Vatar nodded. “I will.”
~
On the way out, Veleus cast an appraising eye over the three horses standing heads-down in the courtyard. Two men were checking the horses’ legs and hooves, and wiping the sweat stains from their coats.
Veleus frowned. “It must be serious. They nearly killed their horses to get h
ere. They won’t ride as hard as Vatar wants on any of those, not for a month.”
Cestus nodded. “I understand his need, though.”
“Of course,” Veleus said. “That’s why we’ll provide two extra horses—for Vatar and this Ruar.”
“I can see to that. I was going to have to get horses for the Healer and me anyway.”
They walked through the darkened evening streets in silence for a while, accompanied only by the sound of their footfalls.
“You’re silent,” Veleus said. “Do you want not to go? Will your wife not like it?”
Cestus shook his head. “It’s not that. Lancera’s mother has been practically staying with us anyway, helping to take care of Jana. As long as I get back before our second child is born, I don’t think she’ll mind.”
“What is it, then?”
Cestus shrugged. “I had a little training with the Healers, but it didn’t include birthing. That’s usually a woman’s specialty. How can I be of help?”
“I need you to go because Boreala is going herself,” Veleus answered.
“Oh!” Cestus blinked. “How are you going to explain that to the Council?”
Veleus laughed. “It’s kind of you to think of me, my boy. But, really, politics is my game much more than yours.”
“But sending a Healer—a Master Healer—so far . . . And Boreala, at that. . .”
“It will be Boreleus that leaves the city. Very few have caught on to that ruse even now. The Council will believe that Boreala is ill and keeping to her quarters. As for sending a Healer, the Council will see it as another extravagance of eccentric Veleus, putting too much importance on a half-blood child and a former lover. They may rant a bit, but they won’t cause any real trouble over it. Or none of them but Gerusa will. There’s a limit to what even she can do against me. Like it or not, the Council needs me for the Festival. Without me, they haven’t a chance of maintaining the necessary transformations.”
The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) Page 9
