“I’m sure they will, sire,” Javes said.
“Oh, yes,” Jusson said. “We will not have another war.” He drained his glass and allowed Javes to pour another. “That, though, is for the morrow. Right now, we must see to the disposition of Lieutenant Groskin.”
Suiden looked up, his face sharp. “’Disposition,’ Your Majesty? He’s not going before a review board?”
“No,” Jusson said. “Groskin will remain in his present office with his present duties.”
Suiden snapped his glass down. “Why the hell do I have to take him back?”
Jusson eyed Captain Suiden. “Is it something that you breathed in Freston’s air or were you born contrary and willing to gainsay a direct order from your king? If I say ‘Wear motley and ride an ass to war,’ you say, ‘Yes, sire.’ “
“But the donkey wouldn’t have been involved in a conspiracy, Your Majesty,” Javes said.
Jusson took his glass of bloodwine, rose, and walked to the window, looking out into the night. “We are aware of Lieutenant Groskin’s failings.”
“Failings,” Suiden said. “The man twice helps bring us to the edge of war with another kingdom—perhaps succeeding this time—and you liken it to a character flaw.”
“I will not tolerate insolence, Suiden,” Jusson said, still looking out the window.
Suiden’s green eyes grew hotter, a flame flickering in them. “Why keep him with me? There are plenty of assignments that do not come in contact with the magical—and where his shortcomings won’t matter.”
“The king has spoken, Captain. Groskin will remain your lieutenant and that’s an order.” Lord Commander Thadro’s voice was as mild as Jusson’s.
I finished my glass and suppressed a yawn—it had been a long night and an even longer day—and I stared heavy-eyed at the king. “Factions, sire?”
Jusson stared at me over his shoulder.
“Factions,” Suiden echoed.
I nodded. “You know, Captain, like you said—the arch-doyen. You’ve told me he’s already been writing letters. Can you imagine what he and Doyen Orso would say if Groskin was disciplined because he objected to being physically translated? What their supporters would say? What the patriarch would be forced to say?” I glanced again at Jusson and then back at the captain. “You saw, sir, that His Reverence felt his position strong enough that he could barge in on the king’s questioning of Teram.”
Suiden frowned at me, then at his wine before finishing it. “Pox take it.”
A yawn escaped me. “Sometimes, sir, you have to risk the part to preserve the whole.” I drank more wine.
“Oh, really? You want Groskin as part of your unit?” Suiden asked. Javes reached over with the pitcher and poured him another glass, and Suiden gave his fellow captain a narrow look.
“Hell no—I mean, as I’m a lieutenant now, wouldn’t I be assigned elsewhere, sir?”
“I was thinking of asking Ebner to assign you to me,” Suiden said.
“What makes you think Rabbit is going back to Freston?” Jusson said before I could respond. He turned around to face the room.
“But you’ve just said you didn’t want Rabbit at Court, sire,” Javes said.
“No. I said that I don’t plan to have Rabbit as my tame mage.” Jusson waved a hand. “But that’s something for later. Right now we’re discussing Groskin, and my decision is final, Captain Prince. He will remain with his unit.”
“Factions,” Suiden said, frowning at the wall in front of him.
“Factions,” I echoed this time. “The Border is rife with ‘em. It’s why the Border didn’t sweep down during the War and just take back Iversterre.”
“Oh?” Jusson asked, his brow raised.
“Yes, sire. Once we defeated the Royal Army, no one could agree on anything else. Who to lead, where to go, how to get there, what to do when we arrived.” I waved my glass, encompassing the whole room. “The miracle wasn’t that we won the war. It was that we had joined together to fight it.” I drank more wine. “We lost Iversterre in the first place ‘cause of factions. Cities against cities. Clans against clans. The cities and clans against each other. Elves against the other fae. The fae double-crossing everyone. Bit by bit, here a city, there a province, it was all taken away as we squabbled amongst ourselves.” I gently burped. “Pardon, honored sirs.” Jusson and Thadro both smiled.
“So the elves don’t get along?” Thadro asked.
“No, sir. The northern warrior clans think the city elves soft. The city elves think the clans are backwoods.” I looked at Jusson. “Sort of like the northern and southern part of Iversterre, sire.” Both Jusson and Thadro’s smiles faded into thoughtfulness as I happily finished my wine. “Laurel Faena calls it ‘lively.’ I say it’s insane. Vicars starting stupid fights over where one breathes in the Earth Songs. The fantastic slamming the human. The dragons thinkin’ of everyone else as toys or food. Or both. And the mages—” I yawned long and loud. “The Weald council meetings drove my da crazy ‘cause they couldn’t even agree where to dig a privy.”
It was Javes’ turn to look amused. “That bad, old fellow?”
Suiden nudged the pitcher away, but I found it anyway. I poured another glass.
“Sod, yes. Sir.” I guzzled my wine and, setting my glass down, leaned back on the couch. “It was the Faena who pulled us together during the War and made us fight as one. Now they keep everyone in check and remind us what happened when we were all divided.” I felt something wet slide down my cheek. “Damn.” I brushed the tear away but there was another. Honor Ash. The wind, which had been quiet, murmured softly and I strained to hear what it was saying.
“Rabbit!”
My eyes flew open. Everyone was staring at me and I sat up. “What?”
“You started to go—I don’t know, someplace,” Javes said, his brows together.
“What?”
“It was like your edges blurred,” Jusson said.
“There are stories in Tural,” Suiden said, “of wizards becoming the very thing they summoned—water, fire. Or air.”
We had those stories too. I sat up straighter—or at least tried to. “I summoned nothing.” I blinked at the captain, trying to focus. “It’s probably the wine. Y’all are a little blurry too. Sirs.”
“Perhaps we should have Sro Laurel check on you,” Suiden said, standing. “What with the translations and all the other weirdness.”
“I’m not weird an’ I feel fine, sir,” I said. I tried to stand also and didn’t quite make it.
Suiden caught my arm. “Well, for sure there’s been too much wine. Bed for you, Lieutenant, then I find Sro Cat.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. I pulled away from the captain and took a step, then waited for the floor to stop moving. “I’m goin’ to be awfully sick tomorrow,” I remarked.
Jusson’s frown disappeared and he laughed, putting down his glass. “Come on, cousin.” He slung one of my arms around his shoulder, and the rune flared warm. He froze. “What the hell is that?”
“Truth. Once, twice, three times I’ve sworn to you, Your Majesty.” I smiled fuzzily at him. “Even in the elfin rune circle before an elfin king.”
“The Witness Circle is elfin?” Javes asked.
I gave the wolf a reproachful look. “You weren’t listenin’.” I pulled my arm away from the dragon and waved it around. “All Iversterre was once the People’s, an’ most of its great cities were elfin.” I swung my arm the other way. “An’ this was the seat of the elfin king before Iver took it away.” My arm dropped and I yawned, my jaw cracking. “They remember that. They remember all of it, ‘cause elves live forever.” My voice slurred more. “But you know that. The king is old as my da but he only looks as old as me.”
“Live forever!” Thadro gave Jusson a speculative look. “But why him and not others, even of his own House?”
“Hell if I know, sir.” I yawned once more and my eyelids drooped. “Maybe somethin’ to do with inheritance and landlaw.”
I looked at him blearily. “Sire?”
“Take it off, now!” Jusson was trembling.
Suiden reached over and pulled my hand off the king’s shoulder, and Jusson quickly moved away, breathing hard.
“I could see—” Jusson stopped, then tried again. “I was—” He broke off once more and stared at my hand, now hanging by my side. “I should order you to cover it up.”
“Cover up the truth, sire?” Javes asked. “That’s not a good thing.” He moved to take Jusson’s place, reaching for my arm. “Though it’s not a good thing to scare your king either, Rabbit.”
Jusson gave a barking laugh. “No, it’s not.” He waved Javes away. “But damned if I will be.” The king stepped back to my side. “Hold it away from me, though!”
I rested my hand palm side up on his shoulder. Suiden took my other arm over his shoulder and as we went out of the room, the royal guards fell in behind so that I had my very own procession to my bedchamber, held up on either side by the king of Iversterre and a prince of Tural.
Chapter Forty-five
I knew before I opened my eyes the next morning that it would be wise to stay very still. I lay in bed swallowing hard against the nausea pushing up from my stomach, and thinking that just maybe I had control over it, when something knocked against my bed, causing me to jump. The next thing I knew, I was face down in the chamber pot trying to hurl up my toes. When I was done, I collapsed on the floor right where I had been kneeling and curled into a ball.
“I beg pardon, Rabbit,” Laurel said.
I moaned.
“Oh. I doubly beg pardon,” Laurel said, his voice much softer. His claws clicked on the floor, and he squatted down and laid his paw lightly on my head. “I have a remedy—”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Please.”
I heard him walk away and then the clink of porcelain. “You’re going to have to sit up to drink this.” I slowly rolled into a sitting position, and waited for my stomach to stop heaving, my arms resting on my knees, my head hanging down. “Hell.”
Laurel handed me a teacup and I downed what was in it, my stomach roiling. I waited, holding my breath.
“I’ve more, Rabbit,” Laurel said.
Without raising my head, I held the cup up and he refilled it.
It seemed that the first dose was staying put, so I drank the second.
“Do you think you can stand up?”
I nodded, then wished I hadn’t. After everything calmed down, I got to my feet, with a lot of Laurel’s help, and carefully walked back to my bed. Or a bed. I peered around at the opulent room as I sat down. “Where am I? And where’s Basel?”
“The king had you put to bed here in the palace,” Laurel said. He walked to the window blinds and closed them, and I sighed in relief. “And I asked the moon soldier to give us privacy. What happened after I left?”
I tried to remember. “Nothing—”
“Something must have, because for the first time since we arrived in Iversly I have been allowed to be alone with you.” He came over to the bed and sat down, careful not to cause it to move. “Captain Suiden actually sought me out last night to asked that I, hmm, check you over.” Laurel’s ears shifted. “Something about the air?”
A memory abruptly surfaced. “Oh, yeah.”
Laurel waited a moment, then sighed. “Tell me, Rabbit.”
“It was probably the wine.” My palm began to burn and I looked down into it. “Traitor.”
“Tell me!”
I winced. “Betrayed and tortured.” I caught sight of Laurel’s ears lying flat and I relented. “They said that I started to fade into the air.”
Laurel frowned. “What was going on when this happened?” he asked.
“We were drinking,” I said. “A lot.” At least I was.
“Nothing else?”
More of the memory popped up. “Honor Ash. I was thinking of her.” I frowned. “Then the wind said something but I couldn’t hear.”
“Has the wind spoken to you before, Rabbit?” Laurel asked.
I eyed the Faena, thinking of what to tell him, and my palm began burning again. I held it up to him. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Answer my question.”
I sighed and lowered my hand. “Yes, the wind has spoken to me before.”
“Since when?”
I started to tell the cat about yesterday, when another memory arose—the wind laughing at me on a mountain lea. I glanced sideways at Laurel. “Since when you first showed up.”
“As I said last night, air is not my aspect,” Laurel said. “Earth is. It’s how I tracked you.” He considered me. “You were hearing the wind that long ago?”
I started to nod again, but stopped myself in time. “Yes. The captain said something about mages being consumed by what they summon—and I remember stories like that too.”
“That has been known to happen,” Laurel said. He stood and went over to where his staff was propped against the wall. “And sometimes they’re seduced. The water mage becoming a waterspout and so forth.” He came back to where I sat. “The idea is to strike a balance, where you are not overwhelmed, nor are you suppressing. Neither is good.”
I eyed his staff. “What are you going to do?”
“How do you feel?”
“Why?”
“Because I am going to show you how to meditate,” Laurel said, “and it’s difficult to do if your stomach is trying to come out your nose. Trust me on this.” He was right, it was difficult to meditate while hung over. I grasped almost immediately what Laurel was explaining, as it was very close to the way I prayed (something I hadn’t done a lot of lately). But it was hard to clear my head when every bit of me was clamoring for attention. My hair hurt and each strand let me know it. Finally Laurel called a halt, saying I had done enough for now. “You understand the basics, and it’ll come easier with practice.”
I sighed and got up, rubbing my forehead.
“Do you also understand how to keep your thoughts from being scryed?” Laurel asked, also standing.
I forgot and nodded, and then winced. That was a little more difficult, sort of like rubbing my head and patting my stomach at the same time.
“Good,” Laurel said. “Once you have learned to center yourself, we will move to the actual training.” He rumbled in his throat as he stretched. “Which was been delayed enough—you could’ve been seriously hurt when you confronted Slevoic yesterday.”
“I can’t wait.” I discovered tepid water in a ewer on the dresser and poured some into the bowl next to it. There was a shaving kit laid out, and I picked up the soap and brush and began to make lather. “To become something that I’d swore I’d never be.”
“Stop whining,” Laurel said. He walked to the windows and reopened the blinds. “I’ve told you that mages weren’t the only ones who chew the mentha leaves.”
I stopped squinting against the sudden glare and stared as he met my eyes in the mirror. “You?”
“All of us who work talent. Why do you think Honor Ash took such time with you?”
“Apparently not because of my winning personality.” I applied the lather, feeling sharp disappointment at the sprite’s ulterior motives. I picked up the razor and began to shave.
“She loved you, Rabbit,” Laurel said, sitting back down on the bed. “Child and growing lad, she loved you, and she couldn’t wait until you were of age so she could ask you to join the Faena. She would boast of you at each of the Faena councils—your quickness, your talent, your intelligence— until everyone else was sick of it.” Laurel sighed. “I cannot believe I shall never see her again.” He looked back at my reflection. “She was furious that Magus Kareste convinced your parents to apprentice you to him.” His whiskers swept back in a wry smile. “She named him thief and laughed in his face when he came looking to see if you’d taken refuge with us. Honor Ash told him if you had, indentures o
r no, he’d not get you back. She also told him about his parents, his upbringing, and the status of his maleness. Or lack thereof.” I said nothing, concentrating on finishing shaving. But all the while the thought lurked in the back of my mind of how I’d convinced myself when I ran away that no one cared—and how wrong I was.
“She was very glad, Rabbit, that I was going to find you,” Laurel Faena said.
I finished dressing in silence; a new uniform was provided along with the shaving kit, crisply pressed, creases sharp. I started to walk to where I could see myself in the mirror to make sure everything was straight, and then realized that I didn’t give a damn. I turned away and went to where the uniform I wore yesterday was folded in a chair. I picked up my sword and scabbard and buckled it on. I then ransacked the trouser pockets for handkerchiefs, and discovered the feather.
Laurel rumbled, his eyes on it.
After a moment, I went back to the dresser where a brush and comb were also provided. After watching me fumble with my hair (even though I had a mirror this time) the Faena rumbled again. “Let me do it.” He took the brush from my hand and in a few moments I had my heavy braid back, the feather fixed to one of the ties.
“We need to talk about the covenant, and also what happened with Slevoic,” Laurel began, putting the brush down.
“Rabbit!” Jeff called outside my door.
“But apparently not now.” Laurel sighed. “I’ve come to believe there’s a conspiracy deep and wide dedicated to keeping us from needful discussions.”
I didn’t respond but turned away from my reflection in the mirror and walked to the door, opening it—and blinked. Blocking the doorway was Basel, in his man form, wearing full ghostly armor and holding a really big sword. “Stop exaggerating,” I said. The shade turned his head and gave me glowing red eyes. “And stop that too.”
Jeff and several King’s Own stood in front of the haunt, all looking annoyed. “He wouldn’t let anyone come get you, Rabbit,” Jeff said, “even though we told him the king sent us.”
“My fault, honored sirs,” Laurel said from behind me. “I needed to speak with Lord Rabbit in private and asked the moon soldier to ensure that we wouldn’t be disturbed.” He came out of the room, crowding both Basel and me into the hallway. “Time got away from us.” He bowed. “Shall we go?”
Covenants (v2.1) Page 30
