At last the meal was over, and Kadar stood, giving the signal for all in attendance that it was time to retire to their various chambers. This was no feast day, only a simple evening meal, and so there would be no dancing or music or players performing pantomimes. I stood as well, smiling and nodding as my position required, while the lords and ladies bowed and went on their way and the servants began clearing away the tables.
Usually Kadar would accompany me upstairs at this point in the evening, but now he touched my arm and said, “I would have conversation with Maldis before I come to our chambers. Do you mind making your way alone, just this once?”
“Not at all,” I replied, although of course my thoughts began racing, wondering what he had to say to his advisor that could not wait until morning. And truly, by “alone” he meant only without him, for as always Beranne waited for us near the door. It was her duty to make sure we had everything we needed before we retired for the night, although most of the time those needs had been attended to before we even headed back upstairs. “I will see you shortly?” I asked Kadar.
Just the smallest of pauses, so small I almost wouldn’t have noticed it, except that I had grown accustomed to his moods and manners over the past month or so. “Yes, of course.”
And he lifted my hand to his lips to take his leave — a simple gesture of courtesy, but a shiver ran up my arm as his mouth touched my flesh, and I felt his breath warm against my skin. Of late I had begun to wish for something far more than that, but I knew that to increase our intimacy was only to invite disaster.
I smiled at him, and turned and went to Beranne, but I had no intention of meekly returning to my apartments, not when I had a chance of finally learning something of what he and Maldis were plotting. She followed along behind me as I left the dining hall, but then I turned a corner and halted, and she almost walked into me.
“My lady!” she gasped. “You did give me a turn. But why are we stopping here?”
“Because I want to do a little spying,” I told her calmly, and tried not to grin at her obvious discomfiture.
“My lady — ”
“Oh, do hush, Beranne. I need to listen.”
Her eyes widened, but she did fall silent. Her expression, however, seemed to indicate that she thought I had taken leave of my senses.
Actually, I was doing just the opposite — or at least sharpening the one I needed at the moment. Ulias had taught me the listening spell only a few days earlier, and I was surprised at how simple it really was, no more difficult than the little cantrips I used to locate lost objects or unlock a door. In truth, I wondered why my father had not taught it to me, as he had taught me so many other of the minor magics…until I realized that perhaps a parent would not wish to have a child who could listen in on private conversations.
When I mentioned this to Ulias, he had smiled and told me, “This is why parents were advised never to teach their own children, even in instances when the power did not skip a generation or two. It is difficult to subject one’s own child to the sort of rigorous effort required for the true study of magic…and it is also difficult to be objective, to teach everything, even if it might be a little inconvenient.”
Inconvenient. That was one way of looking at it. At the time I was only irritated that my father had withheld information from me, but now I was simply glad that Ulias had taught me the trick.
“Tell me if anyone is coming, but otherwise do not speak,” I told Beranne, and she nodded.
“Yes, my lady.”
I shut my eyes then, listening to the various voices within the hall — the light, sweet tones of the maids as they cleared away the last of the dishes, Althan’s deep, smooth baritone. And then the tread of two pairs of feet, one heavier, but brisk, and the other almost undetectable, but keeping pace with the first. I knew those footsteps belonged to Kadar and Maldis.
They moved off in the opposite direction from where I stood, going to a place where the corridor dead-ended in a little alcove with an arched window that afforded a fine view of the lake. I guessed, however, that was not why they went there. That corridor saw little traffic, and of course no one would be going to look at the view after sunset.
It was there that the two men stopped. Kadar spoke first, his voice tightly controlled, low, but no less furious for all that.
“I told you not to do anything this drastic.”
Maldis sounded singularly unruffled. “My lord, you wanted the marriage stopped, did you not?”
“Yes, but — ”
“Well, there is certainly no chance of it happening now, is there?”
A silence. I wished then that I could see them in addition to hearing them, but this spell was not the far-seeing. I could only attend their words and try to fill in the missing pieces later.
Then Kadar spoke, his tone still taut, angry. “All I requested was that she be made unsuitable for an Imperial marriage. A dalliance with her dancing master, a liaison with a penniless second son — there are so many things that could have prevented the match. Torric Deveras is a proud man, even for an emperor of Sirlende. He would not have stooped to marry a girl so sullied, even if she were a princess of Farendon.”
“But there would have been a chance.”
“Perhaps, but — ”
“But nothing, my lord.” Maldis’ mild tone turned silky, the words meant to persuade, to calm. “It would have been a constant fear, would it not? And now that fear is ended.”
“As is that poor girl. Eighteen, Maldis! She was only eighteen. I cannot bear to think that I have her blood on my hands.”
“But you do not, my lord.” A pause. “I do.”
So he had not known, or commanded that vile act. Not that causing an honorable girl’s reputation to be sullied was something to dismiss lightly, but of course such a deed paled beside cold-blooded murder. The relief that washed over me was almost equally touched with guilt, for I knew I should not be allowing myself to feel this happy, not when a young woman had been killed in such a foul way.
Next to me I could hear Beranne shift and make a worried noise low in her throat. Perhaps I had let out a sigh, or betrayed my roiling thoughts in some other fashion, but I could not let my concentration slip any further.
It wasn’t quite a growl, but the sound Kadar made next was very close to one. “You may have secured the North’s safety…for now…but the cost is far too high. The thing is done, and we must live with it. For now, though, leave me. I do not wish to look on you any more this evening.”
“My lord.” Maldis’ reply was neutral enough, but I thought I heard underneath it a curl of amusement, as if he found it laughable that Kadar had ordered him away.
Be careful, my love, I thought. For this creature is not your servant, and will only pretend to be one until the pretense serves him no longer.
And then those soft footsteps made their way back down the corridor and off in the direction of the castle’s main entrance. No doubt Maldis had decided to return to whatever shack or other dwelling housed his latest victim. I could not hold out any hope that that hapless mage-born soul still lived; the death-spell must have taken every ounce of power their blood possessed.
It seemed that Kadar lingered there in the alcove for a moment or two more before he strode forth, obviously heading toward our tower apartments. I broke the spell then, knowing I must return there as well, and before the Mark arrived, or he would most certainly question me as to where I had been this past quarter-hour.
“Quick, Beranne!” I gasped. “I must get to my suite immediately. Is there any way besides the main stair?”
She raised an eyebrow, but, apparently recognizing the urgency in my tone, said, “There is a second way, up the small staircase the servants use.”
“Show me.”
There were no questions or words of protest. She merely nodded and led me down the hallway to another narrower corridor, one that terminated in a narrow stairway barely lit by one or two mean little sconces. It did not look at
all appealing, but I knew I had little choice. “You may go first,” I said, figuring that it would be safer to follow her, since she most likely was far more familiar with the treacherous little staircase.
A nod, and then she began the ascent as I trailed behind her, putting a hand out to either side so I might let the cold stone help guide me upward. As we moved up the stairs, I tried not to think of time passing, made myself pray that this truly was a more direct route. And perhaps Kadar would pause on the way to our rooms to speak to a courtier, or to Althan, so that his arrival might be more delayed.
Anything that would allow me to get there first.
We emerged from the stairs in a corridor I halfway recognized.
“This way, my lady,” Beranne said, moving briskly off to our right, to another, larger hallway, where we turned left and suddenly were confronted by the shallow stairway that led into my apartments.
There was no sign of Kadar, and I let out a little sigh of relief. So the shortcut had worked.
I strode past Beranne and practically ran up the stairs, ignoring the somewhat startled looks of the two men who stood guard outside the large double doors. Grasping the handle on the one to my right, I flung the door open and hastened inside.
Only to be confronted by my husband, who stood next to the hearth, arms crossed. His brows lowered, and he inquired, “And where have you been, my dear?”
Chapter 15
I could do nothing but stare at him for a few seconds. Somehow I found my voice. “I was — that is, Beranne and I were — ”
Bless her, she stepped forward and dropped a quick curtsey. “Beg pardon, my lord, but I thought her ladyship might be diverted by the new litter of kittens one of the kitchen cats dropped last week. They — ”
She might as well not have been speaking at all. His gaze remained fixed on me. “Lark.”
“Thank you, Beranne,” I said clearly. “That will be all, I think.”
An expression of confusion flitted over her features, but she did not question or contradict. Only another curtsey, and then she was backing away, shutting the door behind her.
Silence fell. Kadar and I stared at one another for a long moment. What had made him so suspicious, I could not say, except that he had suffered a blow this night. It would be easy to be angry with him and say it was his fault for housing a viper in his bosom, as my friend Daris might have described the situation in her somewhat dramatic way, but of course he could have had no idea of the sort of evil Maldis of Purth had brought with him. Whatever doubts I might have had about Kadar’s intentions had been put to rest by that quietly vicious little exchange with his “councilor.” The Mark’s ambitions were great, that was was true, but even he had lines he simply would not cross.
I had no idea what the dark mage would do next, but I was fairly certain Kadar was no longer in his pocket…and perhaps even in danger from him. Despite my worry, something in that realization gave me a surge of hope. Perhaps things were not as broken between us as I had thought.
And oh, I was so weary of the secrets and subterfuges, the lies I uttered on a daily basis. Would it not be better to tell the truth for once? Now might be the perfect time, coming fresh on my husband’s rift with Maldis. Now that Kadar’s eyes had been opened, perhaps he would be better suited to see what was right in front of him.
A little shiver went through me, and I moved closer to the Mark. He might not read anything in my change of position save a desire to be closer to the warmth of the fire. It was a bitter night, snow falling again past the thick walls and poorly glazed windows of the keep.
I wished then for a sip or two of that bracing honey-liquor to strengthen me for what was to come next, but I knew better than to request such a thing. That would surely be a sign of weakness. Instead, I gathered my breath and said, “You asked me where I was, my lord. I was down the hallway and around the corner from the alcove where you stood and spoke with Maldis, and you berated him for murdering a princess of Farendon with some fell magic.”
Silence again, as Kadar stared at me, golden eyes wide, glinting with shock…and something else. Fear?
Not that. I did not want him to fear me.
In the heavy quiet I fancied I could hear the thudding of my own heart as I gazed up at him, willing him to say something…anything.
At last he spoke. “And how is it you could hear this conversation?”
“Magic,” I said simply.
A lift of the expressive brows, and then he went past me, going to the table where the squat bottle of methlyn sat with its accompanying glasses. He pulled the stopper from the bottle and said, “A glass, my dear?”
“Yes,” I replied uncertainly. I supposed I could be forgiven for wondering if he’d suddenly acquired the gift of reading thoughts.
After pouring a sturdy measure into each glass, he handed one to me. “That must have been difficult.”
“‘Difficult’?” I repeated.
“Making such a confession.”
Not knowing what else to do, I lifted my shoulders. “Not as difficult as continuing to lie to you.” I drank then, letting the heat of the methlyn work its own magic in bolstering my courage.
Again he was silent, staring down into the amber liquid in his own glass, but drinking none of it. “Well, I suppose this would explain some of your antipathy toward Maldis. You knew from the very beginning, didn’t you?”
“I — ” I gathered myself, and went on, “I did feel the darkness of his power when I first shook his hand. But that may have only been because I was warned.”
“Warned?”
I had given him one truth. It was only fair that I should give him all. “Ulias summoned me to see him, and warned me of Maldis of Purth.”
The golden eyes glinted then. “Ah.”
“Even then I did not know the extent of his perfidy. It was only later, when Ulias explained…”
“Explained what?”
“Explained how Maldis was getting his power.”
“Is he not a mage, the same as you?”
I shivered. “No. Not in any true sense of the word. He…steals…his power, takes it from those honestly born with it.”
Kadar’s expression darkened. “And how does he manage this theft?”
“By slowly draining the power along with their blood. I know no more than that — Ulias did not give me any more details. I did not need to hear them.”
“Gods.” He passed a hand through his heavy dark hair, his face pale. At last he lifted his glass with his other hand and drained the liquid inside in one long swallow. “And to think I brought him here.”
“You could not have known — ”
“I should have known, or at least guessed. Whenever something sounds too easy, then usually it is.” Without looking at me, he set the empty glass down on the table. At first it seemed as if he would move to refill it, but instead he turned it upside down, the dregs inside dripping, marring the polished wooden surface. At last he looked up, the golden eyes meeting mine squarely. “Tell me one thing.”
“What is that?”
“Why are you still here?”
Mouth dry, I forced myself to maintain his gaze, to not look away. “My lord?”
“Do not play coy with me, Lark. If you truly are a mage, why did you not escape?”
I almost smiled. “I did try. Do you not recall how sleepy your retainers were, back at the hunting lodge the first night I was taken?”
“They did seem somewhat over-weary.” His brows drew down slightly. “I was not, however.”
“Some people do not feel the effects of such minor charms. You seem to be such a one…as I found out, to my dismay. And I tried again, as you should remember. But once again I was caught. And after that…” I lifted my shoulders.
“After that?”
“I found I did not have as much stomach for it as I had thought.”
Kadar’s gaze sharpened. “You did not?”
“I…” I moved toward the hearth, and made rather
a show of setting my own empty glass down on the mantel so I could rub my chilled fingers that much closer to the fire. “That is, by then I had felt the magic in this place, knew that something very strange was going on. And then I met Ulias, and…”
“Yes, Ulias. You said he summoned you?”
“He did. He sensed my power, and wanted to take my measure. He knew at once I was not one such as Maldis. And since then, he has been training me, as much as he is able.”
Kadar’s tone sharpened. “Training you? Training you for what?”
“Nothing fearsome, I assure you. Magic doesn’t work that way.” I shifted so my back was to the hearth; somehow the warmth against my wool-clad skin was oddly strengthening, giving me the courage to go on. “My talents lie in detecting magic, knowing how it is being worked, and stopping it if possible. It is a talent that no one save another mage should fear.”
“And does Maldis fear it?”
“He would, if he knew I possessed it.”
The implications of that remark were not lost on Kadar. His brows drew together as he considered what I had just said. “And you trust me with this knowledge?”
“I do now,” I said simply.
“Lark — ” He broke off and appeared to wrestle with his next utterance. “Why?”
“Because I heard what you said to Maldis. I knew then that whatever outcome you might have hoped for, it was never to be at the cost of someone’s life…an innocent’s life. And I knew I could not let the man I loved face Maldis’ wrath unaided.”
The words had barely left my lips before I realized what I had just said. I might have thought such a thing to myself, but I had never expected to say it aloud, and so baldly. Surely now he would laugh, or lift a mocking eyebrow, or say something witty and cutting to dispel the tension.
But he did none of those things. For a second or two he stared at me, his expression unreadable. And then he moved so swiftly I could hardly register that he was now next to me, that those were his hands reaching up to cup my face, or that those were his lips pressing against mine, strong and tasting slightly of the sharp honey-heat of the methlyn.
Binding Spell (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms) Page 22
