Terania leaned closer. “I’ll tell you a secret. Years ago, a mystery man bespoke Thekila, just for a brief flash. It’s been happening off and on ever since. She’s never been able to get him to maintain the contact for long enough to ask or answer any questions beyond his name and she’s never been able to make contact herself. Over the years, she’s built up an image of her secret lover, entirely out of her own imagination.”
Teran set his cup down too hard and sloshed wine on the table. “Now it seems her fantasy lover is real after all,” he said through gritted teeth.
Terania nodded. “Yes. Fortunately.”
Teran turned on her. “I’d have thought that you, at least—”
Terania laughed softly and laid her hand on his arm. “Dearest brother, for all your wisdom, there are still some things you don’t understand about women. This, apparently, is one of them. So let me instruct you.
“Fantasy lovers are always perfect. They always take enough time. They never say or do the wrong thing. They’re always there when you want them and conveniently absent when you don’t. Real men, flesh and blood men, make mistakes. They say things that make us cry. They do things that drive us crazy.
“Teran, even you will never be perfect. You never had a chance against a fantasy. A flesh and blood rival is something else altogether. The good news is he will never be perfect either.”
Teran’s face cleared. He smiled down at his sister. “That does put things in a different light. Thank you.” He raised his cup and drained the last of the wine.
He still had a lot to think about, only now it would be laying plans. How to keep Thekila and Vatar separated as much as possible. How to be as close to perfect for her as he could until she turned to him instead. He smiled. He had an advantage there. He’d known Thekila for years. He knew what things made her happy and what made her angry. Those last were not always the things you might expect.
Terania was right. He’d never be perfect. And he might not be able to pretend to be for a lifetime, no matter how hard he tried. But he was confident he could come a lot closer to Thekila’s perfect than Vatar could.
Chapter 55: Retribution
Orleus was up before dawn, preparing to go after the raiders. Not that any of them had slept more than an hour or two the night before, keeping watch in case the raiders came back.
Danar came out, standing stiffly not to reopen the deep gash in his back. “I can send someone with you.”
“No,” Orleus said. “I’ll travel faster alone.”
“But there are three of them.”
Orleus smiled. He hadn’t been made Captain of the Tysoean Guard because of who his father was, but because of his skills in a fight. “I’ll be careful.”
“At least take Cestus with you,” Danar said.
Orleus shook his head. “No, with your injury, you need Cestus here in case they come back. I’ve got Seeker and Arrow. That’s all I need.”
“Then take this,” Danar said, offering a bronze medallion with the image of a charging lion on it. “This will prove you come from me. I think I recognized one of them as Wolf Clan. If they’ve returned to their own clan, you may need it.”
Orleus took the medallion and put it into his belt pouch. “I’ll be back in three days—one way or the other.”
Danar nodded.
Orleus held out a scrap of fabric that Seeker had ripped from the sleeve of one of the kidnappers. “Find, Seeker. Find.”
Seeker took off along the edge of the Forest, Orleus and Arrow hot on his heels. Seeker led Orleus on the trail all day. They passed several camps, almost indistinguishable from Danar’s. Late in the afternoon, Seeker led Orleus straight into another camp and stopped outside one of the huts, baying.
An old man, accompanied by two younger men, came out of another hut in response to the noise. “Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Orleus. I come from Danar’s camp.” He took the medallion Danar had given him out of his pouch and showed it.
“I am Pakel, chief of this band,” the old man said, inspecting the medallion. “And these are my sons. What does Danar need from us?”
“Yesterday afternoon, three men attacked Danar’s camp. They attempted to carry off two of the children. Danar was injured in their defense. I wounded one man in the shoulder. Arrow bit one in the thigh and Seeker bit the third on the arm.” He indicated his dogs. “One also was bitten on the hand by another child, Danar’s daughter Kiara. The men escaped while we tended to Danar and the frightened children. I tracked them here.”
Pakel paled. “Which children were threatened?”
“Vatar’s. Zavar and Savara.”
“And Danar?”
“A slash across his back. Lucina seems not too worried.”
Pakel shook his head. “Bring out the three ‘hunters’ who returned this morning,” he said to his sons. “And bring Maktaz, too.”
When the three young men were brought out, it was clear that they carried exactly the injuries Orleus had described.
“You three have disgraced the entire Wolf Clan. I am ashamed that any member of my Clan could stoop so low as to threaten a child. Why?” Pakel demanded.
“They are offspring of an Evil Spirit. They must be purged for the good of the tribe,” one of the men answered.
“I see.” Pakel turned to Maktaz. “So, this is all your doing.” He spat at Maktaz feet. “You have even less honor than I thought. Tie them all.”
The old man turned to Orleus. “No decision about the fate of these three can be made until the whole Clan gathers in the spring. Maktaz’s judgment must await the gathering of the entire tribe at Zeda. That is our law.
“However, they should not remain here, close to their families. So, I will send Maktaz to Bion’s band of the Horse Clan. Lucina is an adopted member of the Horse Clan and Bion’s life-mate is Danar’s sister. I doubt Maktaz will find many sympathetic listeners among Vatar’s cousins. But I will advise Bion to keep him separated, even so.
“I would send these three,” he looked with disgust at the three young men “back with you to Danar. But perhaps it would be safer not to put them so close to the children. I will send them instead to Larad’s band of the Eagle Clan. Larad’s son Ariad is a good friend to Vatar. And the twins’ mother is now Ariad’s year-mate, so I think they’ll find little pity there.
“Will this satisfy Danar?”
Orleus nodded. “It sounds like a wise decision to me. Danar’s chief concern now is the safety of the children and his band.”
Chapter 56: Studying Magic
In spite of his private misgivings, Vatar smiled when a young boy of about Kiara’s age came to the infirmary the next morning to find him. The boy’s hair was as red as flame, he had a scattering of freckles across his nose, and his eyes were green. Clearly, Thekila’s brother. “You must be Theklan.”
“Yes, I am. How’d you know?”
“You look very much like your sister—except taller.” It was true, at ten Theklan was already taller than Thekila.
Theklan smiled and stretched for another finger span. “She said I should bring you to class with me.”
“Let’s go then,” Vatar said.
Their progress was slow because Vatar had not yet mastered the crutch. As they made their way down the paths, Theklan watched Vatar surreptitiously. “You’re a little old to start training, aren’t you?”
Vatar pushed down his own fears and smiled to show he wasn’t offended. “I haven’t had an opportunity before.”
Theklan cocked his head to one side. “Why not?”
Vatar shrugged. “Lots of reasons. For one thing, when I was your age, I was learning to ride and hunt and tend the herds. I’ve been studying lots of other things since then.”
Vatar paused at an open spot to look around and get his bearings. This was the first time he’d been out of the infirmary. From here, he had a wide view.
The Valley was a large, high, mountain valley, rimmed on three sides by the snow-c
overed mountains. A large lake almost filled this end of the basin. The Academy, it turned out, was situated on the western shores of the lake. Vatar could just make out a city on the far shore before he turned his eyes away from the water. The area closer by was studded with small groves of fruit trees. Even this late in the year, the grassy lawns were still fresh and green. In fact, the weather seemed unexpectedly mild. It was no colder here than winter in Caere—and not nearly as damp.
Vatar repositioned his crutch in preparation for moving on. “Where are we going?”
Theklan pointed to a low building some distance away. “Our classroom’s on the far side of campus. We always meet in the same classroom. But the teacher changes every day. Sometimes twice a day, depending on what they’re teaching.”
Vatar looked around the sprawling grounds of the Academy. He was going to have to learn to use his crutch just to get back and forth to class. “What will the lesson be today?”
Theklan shrugged. “We never know until the teacher turns up. Sometimes it’s Quetza or Thekila. They’re fun. Sometimes it’s Terania. She teaches meditation and focus. That’s really boring. But not as boring as when Teran shows up. But at least they usually only teach half a day each.”
“What does Teran teach?”
“Teran mostly teaches the Tenets. Of course, they all teach some regular stuff, too. You know, reading, arithmetic, history. Stuff like that. We only actually work with our Powers for an hour or two in the morning and another hour or two in the afternoon.”
“I already know how to read and compute. I know some history and geography, too.” Vatar paused. “But not the history or geography of the Valley. That might be interesting.”
When they finally reached the large classroom where Theklan’s class met, Vatar grimaced to see Teran sitting at the head of the class. Just his luck to start off with Teran. Or was it luck? Teran had known he’d be starting class today, even knew he’d be coming to Theklan’s class.
“Let’s start off by reviewing the Tenets,” Teran said. He put up a large scroll with writing meant to be seen from the back of the room.
Vatar read it.
First Tenet: Show respect for all life. It is all the work of the Maker.
Second Tenet: Take responsibility for your actions. The use of Power always has consequences.
Third Tenet: Never use Powers to harm another. Powers were not given to us to destroy the Maker’s work.
Fourth Tenet: Respect the privacy of others. Powers must never be used to pry into what is not your business.
Fifth Tenet: The Tenets define the Valson. You cannot reject the Tenets and remain Valson.
Interesting. Vatar could find no reason to quarrel with these as principals. They weren’t very different than his Dardani values. But he could think of at least four—no five—Valson that hadn’t considered themselves bound by these rules. As laws, they distinctly lacked teeth. Teran didn’t seem to appreciate it when he pointed that out, though.
~
That afternoon, Terania led the class in meditation and other methods of achieving the focus needed to access Powers. That was all right.
The next day, Quetza came to teach the art of moving objects with the mind, which the Valson called distant manipulation. Father’d never mentioned anything like this Talent. The ten-year-olds had great fun with it. Vatar flinched away from flying feathers and soft balls of wadded up cotton. He could feel his pulse pounding. They weren’t rocks, but they reminded him of that slope coming to life around him, the stones attacking him as if they had lives of their own.
Quetza took him aside, to a smaller classroom, but no amount of concentration helped Vatar move so much as a feather.
Finally, she shook her head. “I don’t know if you simply don’t have this Power or if the memory of what Loran and his friends did is stopping you. Either way, you’re getting nowhere with this right now. Stay here. You might as well practice your focus exercises, instead.”
Meditation didn’t come easy. When he closed his eyes, Vatar couldn’t clear images of flying objects from his mind. There hadn’t seemed to be any harm in seeing that his children were safe, but this was different. This really was magic. He started opening and closing his injured hand in the exercises the healer had given him. Not only magic, but demonstrably magic that could be used to hurt others. Magic that could easily be as evil as his Dardani upbringing insisted.
He paused in his hand exercises to wipe his sweaty palms. He wasn’t sure he wanted any part of this after all. The laughter of the children, playing with their magic in the next room reached him. The innocence of that loosened the knot in his gut a little. Could this magic also be used for good things?
He stared at the far wall as a new idea crossed his mind. If . . . if he had this ability and had been trained to use it . . . could he have somehow saved Torkaz? Could he have deflected the rock that hit his friend? Maybe even lifted him out of the river before the flood hit? Was there really something more he could have done to save him?
~
Vatar stared at the walls of his infirmary room, not sure what to do with himself. Getting out had been the best medicine for him, but the Academy only held classes six days out of seven and this was the seventh day. No classes and nothing else to do.
He’d run his concerns about magic round and round in circles until his head spun. He’d had the old nightmare of a crashing wave of water again for the first time in a long time. He needed something to distract him. Maybe Thekila would come by and have one of those long talks about everything and nothing with him again. He’d barely seen her since he started classes. He liked Theklan well enough, but it just wasn’t the same.
He paced across to the door and looked out. She was coming along the hallway. Vatar smiled and stepped back to let her in.
Thekila stopped in the doorway. “I can’t stay long. I wanted to let you know that, now that you’re up and about, you’ll be given one of the houses in the teachers’ quarters while you’re here. You’re obviously too old to be put in the dormitory with the other students. It’ll be more comfortable than the infirmary. Theklan will come by later to take you to your new quarters and show you around. I’m sure I’ll see you later, in the dining hall.” She turned to leave.
Vatar held out a hand. “Can’t you stay a little longer? I miss our talks.”
Thekila shook her head. “I do, too. I’m sorry, Vatar. Not today. I promised Teran that I’d help him with a project of his. We’ll probably be working all day, if I know Teran.”
Vatar’s stomach knotted with jealousy. His breath caught. What if Thekila and Teran were . . . together? What if she was already paired with another man? No, she would have told him, wouldn’t she? But he hadn’t told her about Avaza until he had no choice. And Thekila had changed the subject when he had told her how special she was to him.
The thought of Thekila and Teran created a cold, hard knot in the pit of his stomach. The laws of the Dardani were clear. If they were already committed to each other, Vatar had to step aside. But if she was committed to Teran, then . . . then he might just have to climb out over that pass, snow or no snow. He didn’t think he could stand being here all winter and watching her with Teran. He had to find out. Theklan would know.
When Theklan arrived, Vatar searched for a delicate way to ask. Nothing came to him. Finally, he just came out with it as they walked slowly to his new quarters, carrying his meager belongings.
“Theklan, is Thekila . . . paired with any one?”
“You mean like life partners?” Theklan asked.
“Something like that.” Vatar held his breath.
Theklan shook his head. “Naw. There were a couple of boys who were interested back when she was a student, but they never lasted long. I don’t think she’s been interested in anybody since. At least, if she has, she hasn’t told me.”
Vatar let his breath out. “Not Teran?”
Theklan laughed merrily. “Teran! He’s like our older brother.”
Theklan shrugged. “Well, no. Not really. He and Terania have always just acted like it, ever since our mother died. It was their family that took us in.”
One of Vatar’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not sure Teran sees himself as Thekila’s brother.”
“Of course he does. How else would he see himself?”
Vatar let that pass. Trying to explain his instincts to a ten-year-old wasn’t worth it. The knot in his stomach began to relax. If she wasn’t committed to anyone else, then he had a chance. But first he had to get her attention—and not as a convalescent.
Theklan showed him to his new quarters—a small two-room house set among similar, widely spaced little houses. It didn’t take long to get him moved in. Vatar turned to Theklan. “What do you do here on seventh-day?”
Theklan’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm. “Most of the boys go down to the lawns and play abas. That’s where I’m going now.”
“What’s abas?”
“It’s a game. There are two teams of seven. The object is to run with the ball through another team’s territory, all the way to the other side. It’s a lot of fun.”
Vatar smiled. “We have something similar where I come from, only we play it on horseback and there are three teams. It’s called jarai. But I’m not exactly up to running, with or without a ball. What else do people do?”
“Well, you could always come watch. Some of the teachers do.”
“Yes. But there must be other things to do, too. For example, what does Thekila do when she’s not teaching?”
Theklan squinted up at Vatar. “Why are you asking so many questions about Thekila?”
Vatar shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I don’t have that many friends, here, yet. Who else should I ask about?”
Theklan grunted. “Well, Thekila studies a lot.”
Vatar blinked. “Surely not all the time.”
The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) Page 28
