Sword and Illusion

by Nancy S. Brandt

  She closed the lid of the trunk. "I thought I was."

  He shook his head. "I have to do this by myself."

  She crossed her arms over her chest and looked him in the eye. "So, Anthelme's not going with you?"

  "That's different, and you know it."

  "How is it different? Varian, this Curse is just as serious for me as it is for you. Well, to me and Gloriana, but of course you can't take her with you. She's just not equipped to travel all over the Known Worlds looking for a child who may or may not be dead."

  "Unlike you," he said, grinning at his sister. "You spend your days sitting in the library reading anything you can get your hands on. I don't know that you're equipped for this kind of travel."

  "At least I'm aware of what's important. I don't think Gloriana even realizes that the Curse means you could die."

  Varian sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. "There is another way out."

  "What?" His sister sat down next to him. "Why didn't you say so before now?"

  He stared at his hands as he leaned forward on his elbows. "It would mean giving Tellan to King Rillaur and Queen Kellin."

  Estelle stared at him as somewhere in the hallway he could hear a clock ticking. "Did you ask the Mystics about evacuating?" she asked finally.

  Varian nodded. "Apparently, a lot of people on other worlds would die. The best plan is to give Tellan to Rillaur if I cannot find my daughter."

  "He would steal it all," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Everything our ancestors built and you've worked so hard to preserve and increase. We can't allow this to happen.”

  Varian shrugged. "The Mystics say he will not be as bad as we expect." He chose not to mention what Rillaur would do to him. "Rillaur married a Dragonmarked wife, and he has an heir. If I turned Tellan over to him, the Curse would fall on him and his heirs. We would be free of it."

  He saw no need to tell her of the pain the Mystics saw under Rillaur's rule. There was nothing she could do about it, and he didn't want her to worry.

  Estelle looked at him, tears hovering on the tips of her lashes. "Is that what you want?"

  Standing up, the Prince walked to the other side of the spacious room. "I want to save Tellan. That might mean giving Rillaur what he wants. At least, that would keep the Dragons from destroying everything."

  "But our people?" Estelle's voice broke. "The people of Tellan deserve better than to just be left at his mercy. They love you, you know? Every single citizen of this world has mourned these last five months for Elizabeth and Cyprian. The shops still have black bunting in the windows."

  "I know."

  "You can't seriously consider letting that animal from Andarnnon just walk in here and take over."

  "What choice do I have? If I can't find my daughter, it will happen anyway. At least if I hand Tellan to him, the Dragons won't kill our family."

  "Find her, Varian." Estelle rushed into the shelter of his arms. "You have to find her and bring her back."

  He hugged her. "I will do my best, Estelle, but I don't even know where to begin looking."

  "Violetta didn't give you any clue where she was when she abandoned the child? Maybe something she said or did?"

  "You mean like a code or something? No. Frankly, I'm not sure Violetta was smart enough to think of something like that."

  "But she gave you a book, right?"

  "Just her book of prayers, the one she had when she lived here. It was rarely out of her hands then. I assume it was the same in later years."

  "And you've looked at it for notes or something?"

  "Estelle, there was nothing." He paused. "Nothing written in it that meant anything, anyway."

  "There was something?" Her green eyes grew wide.

  "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything," Varian said, "but Violetta had pressed a thistle flower between the pages of the prayer book."

  His sister scrunched up her face. "A thistle flower? That doesn't sound like something Violetta would have wanted to keep. They aren't pretty, are they?"

  Varian shrugged. "I couldn't tell you. This one was kind of gray, like it had been in her book a long time. I have no idea what color it would have been before."

  "Well, that's not the point," Estelle said. "Did you ever see her with anything like that when she lived here?"

  He shook his head. "There was nothing in her prayer book when she lived here. I remember because I tried to give her a beaded bookmark for it like the one Mother used… Do you remember it?"

  Estelle nodded, and Varian continued. "Anyway, I gave her one like it, but she kept it in her jewelry box. She said she didn't want to make the book lumpy."

  Now his sister scowled. "But surely the thistle flower wasn't flat?"

  "It wasn't," Varian said. "I mean, it isn't. I can show it to you."

  He went to the chest near the windows, opened the top drawer, and took out the prayer book.

  When he handed it to Estelle, she whispered, "It's very worn. She must have carried it everywhere."

  "She did," Varian said as he sat down next to her. "I don't think I ever saw her without it."

  "Ever?" Estelle looked at her brother, a twinkle in her eye.

  "She brought it to our bedchamber, if that's what you mean."

  "None of my business." She chuckled and opened the book.

  A flattened thistle lay on a browned page. Estelle carefully lifted it out and laid it in her palm.

  "Varian, this isn't just a thistle flower. It's a Borromean thistle, a very beautiful and rare plant." Estelle thought for a moment. "Don't you remember Mother trying to grow Borromean thistles in her gardens?"

  When he shook his head, she continued. "She talked to the Weavers about it, and even with their powers they couldn't get these to grow here. For some reason, the Giants wouldn't dream about them."

  "Do you think this flower has something to do with the child?"

  "Did you look at the pages it was pressed between?"

  Varian shrugged. "No. I don't see why that's important."

  "Well, this is the prayer for a lost child," Estelle said.

  "This doesn't necessarily mean anything, Estelle. Lots of women press flowers in books. Mother did."

  Estelle rolled her eyes. "How did you get Elizabeth Louise to marry you? You don't understand anything about women. This has to mean something." She held the book up to him. "This was your wife's prayer book. You said she carried it everywhere. She must have wanted to have this Borromean thistle with her everywhere, too."

  He took the flower from her. "Where does this thing grow?"

  His sister shrugged. "I don't know. Mother saw the flowers in an arrangement at the court of King Maximilian. I was only about thirteen when she tried to grow them. But I think I know someone who would know."

  She hurried out of his chambers, and he followed her.

  ****

  Varian and Estelle sat in the antechamber outside Thersian's workshop. The Historian of Tellan lived in a six-room cottage in the forest behind the old Palace of the Princes.

  "I haven't been here since Father died," Varian said, looking around at the frayed tapestries hanging on the stone walls. "I still don't see how Thersian could tell me any more than the Mystics. They have magic, and all he has are books."

  Estelle shrugged. "I think books are magic."

  "And you still visit him? Even as hard as it is to get to the top of this mountain?" Varian asked.

  "I haven't in a long time, but I used to come quite regularly. I missed our lessons with him, and I missed his library."

  A guard stood directly in front of the heavy iron door, holding a sword across his chest.

  "Thersian has gotten more protective of his secrets in his old age," Varian whispered. "What can he be doing in there?"

  Estelle glanced at the guard. "I don't know."

  Varian looked out the window behind their seats. "This is not a part of the forest I would want to live in." Glaring sun poured through the window and heated the
air around them until the Prince found it hard to breathe. He would have preferred to wait for Thersian in the shade across the hallway, but the guard had wordlessly indicated the bench, and his demeanor made it clear they were not to move.

  Finally, the door to the workshop opened behind the guard. The man resheathed his sword, bowed to Thersian, and stepped aside.

  Thersian looked much younger than he should have. In fact, he looked not a day older than when Varian had last seen him, two decades ago.

  The historian smiled at the two royals waiting for him as he wiped his hands on a red and blue plaid towel. "Look who it is. Varian, the cause of all my gray hair," he said, slinging the towel over his shoulder.

  Those words had been Thersian's usual greeting when he had instructed Varian as a boy, and hearing him say it made Varian feel as if he'd stepped backward in time.

  Varian and Estelle stood, both of them at least a hand's breadth taller than the Mage. Thersian put an arm around each of them and led them away from the workshop.

  "What brings you two to my home?"

  The Prince said nothing until they'd reached the garden and sat down on a stone bench.

  "I went to see Violetta," he said.

  Thersian's smile disappeared. "Your first wife has finally died."

  "You knew she was still alive?"

  Thersian shook his head. "Of course not, Highness. I just heard that the Princess recently died of the lung scourge that has been plaguing the Andarnnon royal family."

  Varian took a deep breath. "Violetta contacted me to tell me that she was dying and wanted to clear her conscience."

  He hesitated. The news was hard enough to believe, let alone repeat to the man who had helped him understand what it meant to be the heir to the Throne of Tellan. The lessons they'd shared together taught Varian about strong rulers of the past and how they'd dealt with the Dragons and their curses.

  He looked at his mentor and said, "She told me that she had given birth to a daughter soon after she left the palace."

  Thersian's eyes lit up in joy for only a moment. "But if that were so, where is the Dragon Heir?"

  "This is what we've come to ask you," Estelle said. "Apparently, Violetta left the child to die on a rock in a stream somewhere right after it was born. This thistle was pressed inside her prayer book. We believe it is somehow related to the child."

  Thersian took the thistle. "The Borromean thistle. I have seen this before," he muttered. "Come inside."

  Varian and Estelle followed as the historian hurried back to his workshop.

  Once inside, he muttered to himself as he scanned the spines of dozens of books scattered haphazardly on his shelves. "It is the symbol of some clan… I can't remember…"

  Suddenly, he pulled a book down and dropped it on his desk. Carefully placing the fragile plant next to the book, he began rustling the pages.

  "Here it is," he said finally.

  Varian and Estelle hurried to stand behind him, looking over his shoulders at the page.

  "The Sarl?" Varian asked. "I thought they were driven out of existence during the reign of Prince Kenneth Maurice."

  Thersian beamed at him. "You do remember your history lessons."

  Varian shrugged. "Prince Kenneth was the only ruler of Tellan to have more than five children. Thirteen, if I'm not mistaken. It's hard to forget someone like that."

  The old history teacher chuckled. "I suppose that is something. Anyway, the Sarl were driven off their world, Carrick, by the Navin, but they didn't disappear entirely. Clans of Sarl became nomads, traveling from world to world, eking out whatever kind of living they could.

  "I think I might know what happened. The Sarl like to challenge themselves, and one of the biggest challenges a warrior could take—" He reached behind him and pulled another book off the shelf. "Groups of young warriors," Thersian said as he flipped through the book, "would try to sneak onto Carrick while the Navin occupied it." He found the page and turned the book so Varian and Estelle could see it.

  "These warriors normally hadn't seen many battles, so they'd sneak into Navin territory, cut a basket or two full of these flowers." Thersian touched the thistle. "Then they'd drop them wherever they camped. It was a way of telling everyone how brave they were."

  "So." Varian picked up the thistle. "If some of these were around where Violetta left my daughter, it would mean there were Sarl warriors in the area."

  "The flower is faded now, but in its prime, it would have been gorgeous,” Estelle said. “Violetta probably picked it up because it was pretty and later, because she was praying for a lost child, it ended up there."

  Thersian shrugged. "I can see no other reason for her to save a thistle."

  Varian sighed. "So, even if some Sarl were in the area, we have no way of knowing if they found the child or where they are now. I mean, if they're nomads."

  Thersian shook his head. "They're not nomads any longer. About ten years ago, a woman named Moonrazer became Exalted Warrior and drove the Navin from Carrick. Since then, the Sarl have come back to their home world."

  "So the child could be there?" Estelle asked.

  "I am not all knowing," Thersian said, "but if I were looking for her, that's where I'd start."

  "Thank you." Varian turned to leave.

  "Interestingly, Exalted Warrior Moonrazer is Dragonmarked."

  Varian spun around. "What did you say?"

  The old teacher smiled "Well, she wouldn't call it that. I don't know if the Sarl consider this significant, but they have their own Dragon, of course. This Exalted Warrior was not chosen in the traditional way, but was chosen by the Dragon himself."

  "To rule?"

  Thersian shrugged. "Yes. But that doesn't make her less Dragonmarked, for your purposes, anyway."

  "What do you mean, my purposes?"

  Thersian cocked his head and spoke slowly, as though Varian were still his pupil and struggling with some simple concept. "With her, you could produce another Dragonmarked heir and avoid the curse."

  "Even if he proposed," Estelle said, "and she accepted, they could not have a child in time."

  Thersian tsked, shook his head, and glanced up at the sky. "Oh, Holy One, where have I gone wrong?"

  Estelle and Varian looked at one another. Varian felt like a child again, in his teacher's presence.

  Thersian looked at his students with the same patient expression he used years ago. "Your ancestor, Prince Corwin, and his wife Linuway were only six months pregnant at the time she was presented to the Dragons."

  "That means I only have one month to find a wife and conceive a child," Varian said, shaking his head.

  "We don't know how old the baby needs to be. We only know that a woman six months pregnant is good enough. You might still have time to produce a Dragonmarked heir."

  Chapter Six

  "We don't know what kind of people these Sarl are." Anthelme patted his horse and looked at his friend. "Do you really believe they can help you?"

  Varian had to push down a seed of doubt that formed in his mind. "Thersian said the Borromean thistle is the symbol of the Sarl people, and so we should start with them. If Violetta left the baby near one of their camps, it's possible someone found her."

  The valet's expression was grave. "I thought you didn't believe the child could even be alive."

  Prince Varian shrugged. "I don't know what I believe, Anthelme. I only know that King Rillaur is determined to set up a presence here even before the Dragon Moon. I know that Violetta was carrying the symbol of the Sarl around within her prayer book. She had to believe there was a chance our daughter was saved."

  He looked at the stars above them. "Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to condemn her. She was afraid. Can I say I'd have behaved any differently in her position?"

  The Prince squared his shoulders. "I have to do something. If the child turns out to be a fantasy, then I'll be no worse off than I am now. However, if the child turns out to be alive, then so much the better."

>   "As you say, Sire."

  ****

  Moonrazer walked into the empty Throne Room with Adazzra at her side.

  The Throne Room was rarely used for anything other than rituals and meetings with heads of state. Moonrazer served as law enforcer and judge in the less formal setting of the audience chamber.