A Young Man Without Magic

by Lawrence Watt-Evans

  “Ah, Anrel!” Garras said.

  Anrel glanced around hurriedly, and saw no one else paying any attention; he stepped close and said, “Remember, I go by Dyssan Adirane here.”

  “Yes, of course,” Garras said. “A man of many names, our Anrel. Dyssan or Alvos or Anrel—are there others? Are you Prince Sharal in disguise, perhaps?”

  “No,” Anrel said sharply, not finding this sally even remotely amusing. He could smell wine on Garras’s breath. He seated himself across the table from Garras, around a corner from Tazia, then leaned forward and said, “I have learned something I think Reva should know.”

  “Oh?” Garras asked, regarding him owlishly.

  “What is it?” Tazia asked.

  “It would seem that Lord Allutar is betrothed; he’s to marry Lady Saria Adirane at the end of this coming summer.”

  “Adirane?” Tazia asked.

  “My cousin,” Anrel said. “But the point is, he’s engaged. A love spell would be most unwise, under the circumstances—Lady Saria is a moderately talented sorceress herself, and would certainly detect such a binding upon her beloved when next she saw him.”

  Even as he said this, Anrel wondered whether it was true—would Saria notice an enchantment on Lord Allutar? Would it occur to her to look for one, when her intended husband suddenly developed an infatuation for some stranger?

  For that matter, was Lord Allutar truly her beloved, or merely her best prospect for marrying well?

  It didn’t matter. What mattered was that Reva must be convinced not to attempt her love spell.

  “Marry your cousin?” Garras said. “Did you arrange this, then, to keep my daughter from earning her fifty guilders?”

  “What?” The accusation caught Anrel completely off guard. “No, of course not! Why would I do that?”

  Garras drew himself up and looked down his rather thick nose at Anrel. “I don’t pretend to know, Master Murau.”

  “I wouldn’t!” Anrel exclaimed. “They were engaged . . . I don’t know precisely when they were engaged, but they have been for some time, and I only learned of it today. I had nothing to do with arranging it. Really, Master Lir, why would I want my cousin to marry my worst enemy?”

  “To frustrate Mimmin li-Dargalleis, perhaps. To frustrate my daughter. To place a spy in your foe’s household. I can think of any number of reasons.”

  “But I desire none of these! Sir, I have only your family’s best interests at heart, I assure you.”

  “Really? Because you seem to be costing us fifty guilders.”

  “That is not my intent! Perhaps Mistress li-Dargalleis can be persuaded to redirect her interests—surely, there are other worthy bachelors to be found in Beynos?”

  “Ah, but would any of these others be worth fifty guilders?”

  Anrel’s mouth worked. “Perhaps not, but surely, it cannot help a witch’s reputation to be unaware of something vital to the success of her spell! Your wife and daughters pretend to know the future; what, then, will your customers think of Reva if she proceeds with a love spell that cannot help but produce scandal and unhappiness?”

  Garras frowned.

  “He has a point, Father,” Tazia said.

  “No one expects you girls to know everything,” Garras protested.

  “But something like this—it will certainly look better if we do know it, and act accordingly!”

  “But we’ll lose the fifty guilders!”

  “And perhaps earn it back with fortune-telling.”

  “Fifty guilders? I think not.”

  Tazia surrendered. “No, not all of it, you’re right. But if we can direct her to another target, we can perhaps make up the difference.”

  “Confound it.” Garras glared down at the table for a moment, as if smothering a belch, then at Anrel. “Can’t you talk your cousin into breaking her engagement?”

  Anrel sighed. “Sir, I do not dare speak to my cousin at all.”

  “Write her a letter!”

  “It would avail you nothing, I assure you,” Anrel replied. “Lady Saria has always been headstrong, and accustomed to having her own way.”

  “Yet she wants to marry Lord Allutar?” Tazia said.

  Anrel’s mouth quirked upward. “Indeed she does,” he said. “I do not think their marriage will be a calm one.”

  “May they make each other endlessly miserable, then, for costing us fifty guilders,” Garras said.

  “I would not wish that on my cousin,” Anrel said, “but if she contrives to make Lord Allutar suffer, I will not be dismayed.” He looked around. “Where is Reva? I want to warn her about the betrothal.”

  “She’s out earning her keep,” Garras snapped. “As Tazia here ought to be.”

  “I told you, Father, I just needed a little rest.”

  “No one pays you to rest.”

  “Master Lir,” Anrel interrupted, before Tazia could respond. “Where can I find Reva?”

  “You probably can’t. But if you wait here, she’ll be back for supper.”

  “Ah,” Anrel said. He glanced at Tazia. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important just now, when I came in here.”

  “No,” Tazia said. “We weren’t discussing anything important.”

  Anrel wanted to ask, “Why not?” but he restrained himself. Tazia knew her father far better than he did, so if she thought this was not the time to initiate a discussion of her future, Anrel had to respect that decision. Perhaps Garras’s prodigious consumption of wine had something to do with it.

  He thought he could use something to ease his own mind a little; he turned in his chair and raised a hand to signal a servant. When a plump serving wench hurried over, he ordered another bottle of the merlot he had enjoyed so much earlier.

  Half the bottle was gone when Nivain and Perynis entered the room, and the last of it had just been poured when Reva finally appeared.

  “Ah, there you are!” Garras called. He had consumed another bottle himself. “Come here, girl—Master Adirane has some news for you.”

  Reva came, and took a seat next to Anrel, looking at him curiously.

  “I thought it might be wise to find out more about Lord Allutar before attempting to enchant him,” Anrel said. “Alas, what I found out is that he is engaged to be wed—he will be marrying Lady Saria Adirane in the fall.”

  “Adirane?” Reva asked, in precisely the same tone her sister had used.

  “My cousin.”

  Reva looked at him for a moment, then said, “You mean he would marry her if I did not intervene.”

  Flustered, Anrel said, “Well, I . . . maybe.”

  Reva shook her head, tossing back her long hair. “I think I can cast a love spell strong enough to make him break his engagement to this Lady Saria, and wed my client instead,” she said.

  “On a sorcerer of his stature?” Anrel protested. “You don’t think he’ll notice something amiss when he abandons a betrothal?”

  “I think so,” Reva insisted defiantly.

  “I think you should discuss it with your client,” Tazia said.

  Reva glared at her, then shrugged. “Fine. I’ll discuss it with her.”

  “Had you made any plans as to when you would be enchanting him?” Anrel asked.

  “Tomorrow night,” Reva said. “There’s to be a reception at his house.”

  “A good choice,” Anrel said.

  “I’m so thrilled that you approve!” Reva said icily.

  “Please, Mistress Lir, there is no need for sarcasm.”

  Now it was Anrel’s turn to be a recipient of Reva’s glare. “It worked, didn’t it?” she demanded.

  “That depends on how you define ‘work.’ ”

  “It let you know that I’ve had my fill of your condescending aid.”

  “Well, yes,” Anrel conceded.

  “He’s just trying to help,” Tazia said.

  “I didn’t ask for his help!”

  “Reva, we’re just worried about you. Lord Allutar is a dangerous m
an!”

  “And one Anrel might have in his own family soon, if I don’t meddle,” Reva retorted. “Do you think a pardon might be available then? Oh, but if he marries someone who isn’t Anrel’s cousin, then by the Father and the Mother, why would he lift that death sentence? Really, Tazia, how stupid do you think I am, not to see what you two are up to?”

  Tazia blinked, astonished, then said, “Apparently not as stupid as I am, since I hadn’t seen what we were up to.”

  “Oh, really? Well, ask your lover, then!” She turned to Anrel.

  “There will be no pardon,” Anrel said coldly, “but it’s true that if my cousin marries Lord Allutar, he won’t press for my apprehension and execution.”

  “You admit it?”

  “Of course I do, since it’s true. But that did not prompt me to speak to you. I don’t expect to be captured in any case, and really, I would almost prefer my family not be allied to the likes of Allutar Hezir. No, I was merely providing a bit of information I thought you should know. I had assumed that you would not continue with your spell, knowing that Lord Allutar was betrothed, but if you are so certain of yourself, and of your client’s determination, then so be it. I will make no attempt to dissuade you.” He tried not to let his voice reveal the bitterness he felt at her assumptions about his motives.

  “But, Anrel!” Tazia said.

  “Hush,” he replied, raising a hand. “She has made her decision.”

  “Anrel!” She leaned over and whispered, “What are you saying? She’ll be killed!”

  “One cannot save a fool from his folly.”

  “One can try, when the fool is my sister! I know she offended you, I know she’s been rude, but I don’t want her dead, and neither do you!”

  Anrel met Tazia’s eyes, and after a moment he relented. “What would you have me do, then?”

  “Just . . . be quiet, all right?”

  “As you please.” He settled back in his chair, arms folded across his chest.

  He had more reason than ever to offer to give her fifty guilders not to attempt her spell, since now not only would she be risking death if she failed, but if she succeeded it might involve Lady Saria in a scandal, and might well result in an end to Lord Allutar’s tolerance of Anrel’s survival.

  But he also had more reason than ever to not make the offer, given her behavior. He was beginning to think she wanted to cast her spell, no matter how dangerous it might be, regardless of the money, to prove her skill to herself, to Anrel, and to her family.

  And he certainly wasn’t going to reveal in front of the entire family that he had been hiding a significant sum of money from them.

  Tazia turned back to her sister. “Reva, please, talk it over with your client before you do anything dangerous.”

  “I have said that I will.”

  “And give her a fair chance to change her mind. I know you feel as if your pride demands you try to make Lord Allutar break off his engagement, but really, it doesn’t. See what she wants to do.”

  Reva glared for a moment, then yielded. “I will.”

  “Good,” their father remarked. “The customer knows his own mind better than anyone, as the saying has it.”

  “Her mind, in this case,” Reva said.

  “And Reva, take Anrel with you,” Tazia said.

  “What?” Both Reva and Anrel turned to stare at Tazia.

  “Take him with you when you talk to your client,” Tazia insisted. “He knows Lady Saria. He can answer any questions you might have about her.”

  Reva looked distastefully at Anrel. “I don’t want any interruptions.”

  Anrel did not reply immediately. He had not yet agreed to accompany her at all—but then he saw the pleading expression on Tazia’s face, and gave in. “I won’t make any,” he said. “I will be quiet, and speak only when spoken to.”

  “You won’t contradict me?”

  “No.” He had no intention of doing anything to further anger Reva; he knew now that the more he argued, the more stubborn she would become.

  But this might give him a chance to speak to her in private, and perhaps then he could offer to pay her not to risk the spell. He thought she might be more willing to listen when her parents were not present.

  In particular, he thought she might be more willing to take his money and keep quiet regarding the arrangement if her father knew nothing about it. If she accepted the commission, and earned the fifty guilders that way, her father would undoubtedly demand a share; if she declined the commission and was paid secretly by Anrel instead, then Garras need never know, and she would be that much closer to striking out on her own.

  Reva considered him thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Very well,” she said. “Come on, we might as well do it right now.”

  “Now?” Anrel glanced at Tazia.

  “She’s in the front room, talking to Master Kabrig.”

  “Oh.” Anrel had not expected that, but he pushed back his chair and got to his feet. “Then, now it is.”

  27

  In Which Mistress li-Dargalleis Proves

  Uncooperative, as Well

  Mimmin li-Dargalleis cast a quick glance at Anrel, then dismissed him as unimportant. “Is something wrong?” she asked, in response to the somber expression on Reva’s face.

  The three of them were in the room above the stable, for the sake of privacy, and Mimmin clearly assumed that if Reva didn’t mind Anrel’s presence, neither should she. She focused her attention entirely on the dark-haired witch.

  “I have been scrying, Mistress li-Dargalleis,” Reva said. “I have been learning the secrets of Lord Allutar’s heart, in preparation for the spell.”

  “Yes?”

  Reva folded her hands in front of her. “Lord Allutar is betrothed to another,” she said.

  “Oh, I know that!” Mimmin said, dismissing the matter with a wave. “That backcountry sorceress, Lady Saria. Everyone knows that. They announced it half a season ago. But she’s home in Aulix, and I’m here.”

  Reva pursed her lips. “You had not mentioned this,” she chided gently.

  Mimmin shrugged. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  “You hired me to cast a love spell on Lord Allutar that would put him in your power, did you not?”

  “Yes, of course!”

  “I had assumed that you intended to marry him yourself.”

  “Oh, no,” Mimmin said, almost blushing. “No, no. I knew that wasn’t possible. He is a sorcerer, a landgrave, and I am a commoner. Sorcerers marry their own kind, to breed the next generation of magicians, but they take mistresses for love, and that was what I sought—what I seek.”

  Reva was silent for a moment, considering this.

  “I see,” she said at last. “You do know that there is no written law forbidding sorcerers from marrying commoners, don’t you?”

  “But that’s the custom, all the same.”

  “Yes, of course, but customs can be broken, and that was what I had understood you to intend.”

  “No, no. Let him marry Lady Saria, as long as he otherwise does what I want.”

  “You understand that a sorcerer’s betrothal is an actual binding? A spell?”

  “It is?”

  Anrel bit his lip, struggling to stay silent. Some betrothals were bindings; most weren’t.

  “It does make casting my own spell more complicated.”

  Anrel held his breath; was Reva preparing to refuse the commission? Was she using this as an excuse to back out gracefully?

  “Oh,” Mimmin said. There was a pregnant silence; then she said, “Sixty guilders, perhaps? It’s all I have. I’ll need to sell my mother’s rings to find that much.”

  Reva blinked. This was clearly not the reaction she had expected. It was also clearly not an offer she could resist. “I think sixty would be fair,” she acknowledged.

  Anrel suppressed a frown. He was not sure he could spare sixty guilders. The idea of bribing Reva was suddenly less appealing.

  He could not
say anything about it while Mimmin was listening, in any case; he still had time to decide.

  “Good, good!” Mimmin said, visibly relieved. “Then we’re all set for tomorrow night?”

  “One more thing,” Reva said, turning to stare at Anrel. “It would be convenient if you could arrange an invitation for my brother Dyssan, as well.”

  Anrel did his best to conceal his surprise, but almost spoke up at that. He did not want to attend Lord Allutar’s reception. There would be people there who knew him, Lord Allutar himself among them.

  But he had promised to remain quiet, so he remained quiet.

  Mimmin glanced at him, then said, “I’ll try. I can’t promise. Dyssan Lir?”

  “That would be the name, yes,” Reva said.

  “I’ll try.”

  “Thank you. You understand, payment must be made in advance.”

  “Of course.”

  “Then we’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  With that, Mimmin rose. Anrel followed suit, and escorted her to the door. There he paused and glanced back at Reva, wondering whether he should escort her customer down to the front door.

  “I can find my own way, Master Lir,” Mimmin said.

  “Of course, Mistress li-Dargalleis,” Anrel said with a bow. He held the door for her and watched her until she had rounded the first turn in the corridor. Then he stepped back into the room, closed the door, and turned to face Reva.

  He had still not decided what to do about the money. Sixty guilders—he could live on sixty guilders for a season, and he had no prospects of earning more.

  But surely, saving the life of Tazia’s sister was worth it.

  Still, it might not be necessary. She seemed to have some scheme of her own. “What do you want me at Allutar’s reception for?” he demanded.

  Startled, she said, “I thought you might want to attend, for your cousin’s sake.”

  “Not particularly, thank you,” Anrel answered. “Not when any of a dozen people might be there who could recognize me and send me to the gallows.”

  “It’s a shame you don’t know more witchcraft,” Reva said with a sigh. “You might be able to cast a glamour on yourself, so that they wouldn’t recognize you.”

  “Can you do that? Perhaps you could cast a glamour on me.”