Binding Spell (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms)

by Pope, Christine

  The graceful ornamentation I had seen in other parts of the castle was nowhere to be found here; the passageway I traversed was of plain, rough-hewn rock. After walking for five or six yards, I discovered yet another stairway leading down and took it as well. All this time I could feel the magic pulling me, drawing me inexorably to it the way metal filings are pulled to a lodestone.

  It was very cold. My feet, bare against the stone pavings, told me I was quite mad for undertaking such a venture. I ignored their complaints but pulled my dressing gown more closely about me, even as I followed the will o’ the wisp down a long, narrow hallway, a hallway that ended unexpectedly in a prison cell.

  I saw no guards, nor any other sign of life. At first I thought those thick iron bars guarded only empty space. But then there was a stirring in the darkness. Black against black, a shape moved within the recesses of the cell. I caught a glint of pale hair, followed by an odd rustling sound.

  The prisoner stood. In the soft blue magic light, I saw him quite clearly — the proud-boned face, the fall of white hair. The enormous wings, pale as his hair, that swept the ground behind him.

  His eyes were grey, the same cloudy shade both my father and I shared. Those eyes fastened on me, and the prisoner smiled. Magic was thick in the air between us.

  “Welcome, Lark Sedassa,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Chapter 9

  My heart beat once, twice, thrice. I stood very still. “You know my name.”

  “How could I not?”

  His voice was warm, mellow as a Sirlendian horn. He spoke the common language of the continent perfectly, and yet I somehow knew it was not his native tongue.

  I met those cool grey eyes, so unexpectedly familiar. “Then you have me at a disadvantage, sir.”

  “You may call me Ulias.”

  Curiously, despite his odd form, and despite the weight of power I sensed filling the cramped underground chamber, I felt no alarm, no sense of danger. The chancy light of the will o’ the wisp revealed an expression of friendly curiosity, but no more.

  I asked, “How do you know who I am?”

  “I have known of you for some time, Lark Sedassa. There are so few left with power, so few…” His words trailed off as he shut his eyes briefly, as if against some remembered pain. Then he shook his head, and continued. “When I was brought to this keep, I felt your presence at once. You may imagine my surprise.”

  His rueful smile almost brought an answering one to my lips. Stepping forward, I looked up into his face. “Why have you been brought here? And why are you imprisoned thus?”

  “Ah, that.” He turned away and gave a negligent flick of one finger. At once the room blazed with a light that put my poor little will o’ the wisp to shame, although I could see no source for the illumination. It seemed to come from everywhere, as if the very stones themselves pulsed with radiance.

  Yes, he was a prisoner, but his cell was quite a luxurious one. I saw a folding wooden camp bed heaped with blankets and sleeping furs; the metal goblet and plate that had most likely held his evening meal were as fine as those used on Kadar’s table itself. A small wooden table bore a stack of books and a few pieces of paper.

  “You see how they try to appease me,” Ulias said, with an offhand wave toward the contents of his prison. “I wish I could send my compliments to the cook, as the roast joint this evening was particularly fine.”

  His manner confused me, as did his situation. I knew I had not imagined the power flowing out from him; indeed, I still felt it as a warm pressure against every inch of my body. “But surely — surely you could easily escape? Your powers — ”

  “—cannot help me here,” he broke in. He turned his hands palm up, and I saw dreadful red welts crisscrossing them. “The bars, you see.”

  “The bars?” I repeated stupidly.

  “Cold iron, dear girl. Anathema to my kind.”

  “Your kind?” Of course I knew he could not be a mortal man, not with those wings, but I had never heard tell of any being matching his description.

  Another of those shadows crossed his features. “A tale for another time. Suffice it to say your husband has utilized the only method that could keep me imprisoned. That is, his pet mage has.”

  Again I could only repeat his words. “Pet mage?” Did Ulias mean there was someone else with magical abilities working for Kadar? But I knew I had sensed only Ulias’ presence, felt only his power.

  “A man named Maldis. Unpleasant fellow.”

  I had never heard of such a person, but of course that meant nothing. Kadar kept his own counsel…as did I. “I do not know this Maldis.”

  “I didn’t expect you would. The Mark has taken efforts to conceal his presence, for obvious reasons.”

  His mild demeanor lent me a little courage. It required only a few more paces for me to close the distance between us. I reached out to touch the bars.

  “I wouldn’t,” Ulias warned, but I paid him no heed. How could iron hold any terrors for me? I had handled my mother’s cast-iron cook pots back home, and the fireplace tools in my suite were composed of iron as well.

  But as soon as I laid my fingers on the bars, a flash of white-hot pain lanced its way up my arm, and I jerked my hand back. Biting my lip, I looked down and saw faint reddish stripes painting the pale flesh on the inside of my hand. They throbbed, each pulse seeming to mock my folly.

  “You see.”

  I glanced up to find his cool grey eyes watching me with a sort of resigned concern. “That’s not ordinary iron.”

  “No.”

  “Then what is it? And how did Kadar come by it?” For all his talents, dubious or otherwise, I couldn’t quite see the Mark concocting an alloy that would harm only those with magical abilities.

  “This Maldis. A dangerous man, one who has discovered a way to pervert magic.”

  A shiver worked its way up my spine. I tried to tell myself it was only the chill from the flagstones underfoot, but I knew that was a lie. “I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t expect you to, child.”

  If anyone else had called me a child, I would have bridled at his words. But although I knew next to nothing of this Ulias, somehow I sensed he was far older than he looked. At the very least, his powers so far outstripped mine that he had every right to address me thus.

  He added, before I could speak, “I cannot answer all your questions tonight. You stole past the guards and came here unremarked, but your husband may note your absence if you stay away too long.”

  Somehow I could not bring myself to admit to this mild-voiced creature that Kadar and I did not share a bed. At any rate, that counted for little. If the Mark were roused in the middle of the night and went out into the main chamber of our suite, he would see at once that I was not asleep on the divan as I should be…unless Ulias had cast some sort of illusion to make him believe I was still there.

  But I found I must ask one question. “Why did Kadar bring you here?”

  Ulias smiled, but somehow in his eyes I saw the sorrow of uncounted ages. “He is ambitious, your husband.”

  “That is not an answer.”

  “Oh, but it is. Go now, Lark, and know this is not our last meeting. I will summon you again when I believe it is safe. I called you here tonight because Maldis left the castle earlier today, but I cannot say when such an opportunity will present itself once more.”

  His tone told me he would countenance no further conversation. For myself, it seemed every answer he had given me spawned yet more questions, like the many-headed serpent of legend who grew three more heads for every one cut off. But I knew I had little choice in the matter. Ulias’ will had summoned me here, and it seemed it was now his will that I should go.

  Still, I felt as if I should make some protest. “You must let me help you. If Maldis is gone, there must be something I can do. Perhaps if I wrapped my hands in a blanket to protect them, or stole the key from the guards — ”

  Another smile. “
Your courage does you credit, but it is not yet time for me to make such an attempt. As curious as your husband is about me, I must confess to wishing to know more about him. He is clever, and quite gifted at finding hitherto under-utilized resources. No, I am comfortable enough here for now. Do not trouble yourself with me, Lark. I merely wished to take your measure, and learn something of you.”

  “And what have you learned?” I inquired. His unruffled patience mystified me. I knew I certainly would not have been so resigned, had I been in a similar situation.

  “That I have an ally, and one it seems I can trust. You will not speak of this, will you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I thought as much. I could make you forget, if I thought you would not hold your tongue. But I am glad to find that is not necessary.”

  “So you can still cast spells, despite that — ” And I pointed toward the bars, the pain in my fingers a reminder of their unnatural properties. Then I realized it was rather a foolish comment, since I had seen him bring the light from within the rocks only a few minutes earlier.

  “Of course. They only prevent my escape. If I could not practice my magic, I would be of little use to your husband.”

  I shook my head. “But if that’s the case, then surely you could do something else…force one of the guards to release you, or turn yourself invisible and sneak past when they bring you your supper.”

  He laughed then. “You have an inventive mind, Lark Sedassa. I appreciate that. But now is not the time for such gambits. As much as the Mark wishes to learn of me, I wish to study him in return.”

  “But — ”

  “Ah, the impatience of youth. Rest assured I am quite comfortable here, and have little wish at present to make any alteration in my circumstances. Go now. I will call you again when the time is right.”

  And I felt a gentle push, one that could only have come from him. I raised my eyebrows, and he nodded. And while under normal circumstances I might have been more than a little annoyed at being summoned and then dismissed in so summary a fashion, I thought I understood something of Ulias’ motivations. Despite his powers, he must be discreet, and yet he could not miss out on the chance to meet with another mage-born soul. And while I had many more questions, I knew that for now they must wait.

  Holding back a sigh, I turned, then made my way down the corridor and up the stairs, and on through the quiet corridors of the castle. Once again I saw no living soul, and no one marked my passage, save perhaps a mouse or spider lurking in a corner.

  The guards had remained in their places, still blank-faced and glassy-eyed, and I slipped past them into my apartments before closing the door behind me. I wondered then if Ulias had cast the same spell to keep Kadar quiescent, and tiptoed to the bedchamber door.

  The Mark was asleep, or at least gave a very good imitation of it. The faint reflected firelight from the main room gave only enough illumination for me to see his tall form huddled beneath the covers; he had not drawn the bed hangings closed. A spill of dark hair covered the pillowcase, while a faint snore drifted out to my ears.

  For some reason I had the urge to laugh, but I quelled my amusement and slipped back to my own makeshift bed. As I slid beneath the blankets, I reflected on my meeting with Ulias. Yes, I had learned who the mysterious mage was — or at least, the one I had known must be in the castle — but that discovery had only spawned more questions than I could count.

  What I found I wished to know most, however, were Kadar’s reasons for bringing Ulias here in the first place. Yes, my makeshift husband was an ambitious sort, or he would not have attempted the gambit that resulted in my becoming his wife. But what did he hope to accomplish with a mage of such powers as his prisoner? For all his mild manner, I doubted Ulias was the sort to be easily coerced or threatened.

  And this Maldis — what did he stand to gain from all this? According to Ulias, he had somehow discovered a way to twist magic to his own ends, but how he had managed to do so, and what the scope of his own abilities might be, I had no idea. Likewise, I did not know for certain why Kadar thought it necessary to keep his presence a secret, although I guessed even he would not be too eager to admit he had stooped to taking someone with forbidden powers into his employ.

  Again I chafed at the realities of my situation, that Kadar and I were husband and wife in name only, with no sharing of confidences between us. With a pang I thought of my mother and father, and how, despite their apparent differences, they lived side by side in harmony — how he could make her laugh no matter how difficult her day might have been, or the way she lit up whenever he entered the room, even though they had been husband and wife for more than a quarter of a century.

  No such ease existed between Kadar and myself, and so I knew I could never ask him the questions whose answers I so desperately desired.

  Instead I burrowed into my makeshift bed and drew the sheets and blankets close to me. Whether it was from my own weariness or a last subtle push from Ulias, I fell into the blackness of sleep almost at once, leaving the night and its mysteries behind.

  * * *

  “You are the sleepy one this morning.”

  I opened my eyes and blinked against the pale light flooding the chamber. Kadar stood between me and the hearth, his expression amused. The heavy curtains had been drawn back to reveal a morning white with mist, so thick I could not see the lake beyond the windows. More of Ulias’ handiwork, or a simple phenomenon of the lake and the autumn weather?

  “I suppose I am,” I replied, and pushed myself up to a sitting position. Despite my nocturnal wanderings, I was not weary at all, but something had certainly kept me abed, when normally I would have roused at the first sound from within Kadar’s bedchamber.

  He said, almost too swiftly, “No need to trouble yourself, my Lark. I must ride out within the hour, and I will break my fast down in the hall with my men.”

  “Ride out? In this?” I gestured toward the swirling mists outside. Back home in Marestal, no sailor who valued his skin would have set forth in such a fog. To do so was testing God’s patience for fools. Even my father would have had difficulty dispelling such a heavy fog bank.

  “It will clear soon, I misdoubt. These mists never last long. In time you will become more acquainted with this land’s moods, its shifts and changes. We would none of us get much done if we allowed such things to rule our actions.”

  That might very well be, but something in the ghostly landscape outside the room’s many-paned windows made me want to shiver. I said nothing, though, but only clutched my blankets a little closer.

  Kadar paused, watching me keenly from beneath his heavy lashes. “Can it be that you might miss me?”

  It was on my lips to retort that I would do nothing of the sort. However, something seemed to tie my tongue, and I only replied, “We have not spent much time together of late.”

  Something in his mouth softened, and I hurried along, thinking perhaps I could win some confidences from him while he thought me weakening, “That is, it seems you have been preoccupied these past few days. Is there something you would like to speak of? Have I done something to offend you?”

  At once he reached down and took my hand in both of his. I thought I would flinch at his touch, but somehow his fingers were warm and comforting, even callused as they were from riding and sword practice. “Nothing, my sweet Lark. Matters of state.”

  I looked up at him in what I hoped was a sweetly beseeching manner. “But surely you told me the Mark’s consort was supposed to live her life in service to the kingdom. How can I be a worthy companion to you if you do not confide in me?”

  He hesitated then. Very slowly he pulled his hands from mine. Some of the light in his eyes seemed to die. “It is nothing you should concern yourself with — that is, I will discuss these things with you, and soon, but now is not the time. May I beg your patience, just as you have asked for mine all these weeks?”

  His point could not have been more clear. Whatever his easy p
leasantries, whatever the spurious camaraderie that might have arisen between us over the short course of our marriage, he still did not regard me as a true wife, and, as such, I was not deserving of his secrets.

  I saw no point in arguing. Indeed, I knew if I pressed the matter, I only risked arousing his suspicions. So I bowed my head with uncharacteristic meekness and said, “Of course, my lord.”

  He nodded, as if satisfied, then took his leave of me and went out the door. I sat on the divan for a long while, staring into the fire.

  Would it be worth it, to give myself to him in exchange for his confidences?

  I feared I did not want to know the answer.

  * * *

  He was gone all that day. I appeared to be the only member of the castle’s household who seemed overly concerned by his absence, as he had ridden out with six of his stoutest men. Despite Kadar’s careless words, the fog did not lift. If anything, it grew thicker, wrapping the stone building in a layer of seemingly impenetrable dankness. More and more wood was piled on the fires, and yet nothing seemed able to pierce the damp chill that permeated the castle. Child of the warm South that I was, I found myself shivering uncontrollably, even after Beranne produced a shawl of warm, thick wool woven in intricate patterns and laid it around my shoulders.

  “Stay by the hearth,” she told me as she bustled about, adding more logs and stirring the coals so the fire blazed up anew. “Poor child, you’re not used to this sort of thing, are you?”

  Teeth chattering, I could only shake my head. I had my fingers wrapped around a mug of hot spiced cider, and while that helped a little, still I could not imagine what a winter here would be like, if it should be so cold in the first days of Novedre. “A-and the M-mark is out in it,” I managed.

  “You worry for him, as any wife should. But there’s no need — his lordship was born and bred in the North. A little fog would never get into his bones. You can count on that.”