” – as you planned,” said Erianthee impatiently. To keep from trying to rush her sister, she took a brush and went to work on her hair, soothing herself with the steady stroking.
Recognizing the brushing for the distraction it was, Ninianee said, “You must have had a hard night.”
‘That I did,” said Erianthee. “Maeshar and his guests were worse than a pack of moon-hounds – though moon-hounds may have better table-manners.”
“They are boors, with the airs and graces of rutting wallow-mojes – much the same look, as well; there’s no reason to insult the moon-hounds, or the wallow-mojes, for that matter,” said Ninianee, shuddering at the thought of the previous morning. “That doesn’t mean they are as dangerous as some of our guests, who behave a little better.”
Erianthee dropped her brush and gave Ninianee her full attention. “What have you found out?”
“That Yulko Bihn and Dinvee are up to no good, and that isn’t because they were trysting near the grotto to Lorjoran, the Provider, it is because they have a mission of their own that brings them here. They have goals of their own, too, to accomplish here, and they will do their utmost to achieve their purposes.” Quickly she summed up the encounter she had witnessed in the outer garden the night before. When she had finished, she said, “So I am more worried about Papa than I was earlier. Whatever they’re up to, it bodes ill for him. I think he must be found, and without delay.”
“If he can be found,” said Erianthee darkly, taking up her brush again. “His talents may have been lessened, but he can still cloak himself.”
“I am certain he can be found,” said Ninianee with such firm purpose that Erianthee stared at her. “I’ll try to locate him before Magsto Bihn does. I don’t want to see Papa’s situation become any worse than it is.” She cocked her head toward the door. “Speaking of difficult situations, what is the real reason that Kloveon is serving as your guard? Isn’t that beneath a Mirkal, standing watch?”
Erianthee shrugged. “In essence, he said he was afraid for me, and he didn’t trust any of the usual guards to protect me.”
Ninianee’s laugh was laced with sarcasm. “How very gallant of him.”
“I was rather touched, that he would make such an effort,” said Erianthee, pretending to be indifferent to his attentions. “He has to provide the first leg of my escort to the Porzalk Empire, so he will have to answer for my safety, won’t he? He might as well get some practice.”
“That’s one way to look at it, I suppose,” said Ninianee. “But I think it is simpler than that.”
“He says he loves me; he’s said that before,” Erianthee said, coloring with the admission. “Most of the time I believe him, but . . . ”
“I suppose he does, as much as his position will allow,” said Ninianee, starting to stride about the room. “And, given his assignment as your escort, he can be trusted to protect you, at least as far as your meeting-point with your second escort, which counts for something. I am sure it does, because he is fond of you. But he is first and always one of the Emperor’s men, sent here on the Emperor’s business, and the Empire must – “
”Supersede Vildecaz in his loyalties,” Erianthee finished for her. “I know that, Nin.”
“But?” Ninianee asked when Erianthee didn’t go on.
“But I wish it weren’t so, that’s all,” said Erianthee simply. She set her brush aside at last. “Doms Guyon is still here.”
“I thought he would be,” Ninianee answered in a voice that hinted that she wanted to hear nothing more about Doms.
“He’s a puzzle, isn’t he?” Erianthee pursued.
“Yes. He is,” said Ninianee, and glanced toward the door.
“He was missing for part of last evening’s entertainment,” said Erianthee.
“Oh?” Ninianee tried not to show her alarm. “How long?”
“About two hours, I’m told.” Erianthee shrugged. “I was . . . occupied, so I don’t know for sure.”
Ninianee pondered in silence, then said in a matter-of-fact tone, “I think I had better arrange to go off to Duz Kinzyrach’s Library as soon as I can, to be certain Papa is really there – don’t you think, Eri?” She watched her sister, an expression of eager determination on her face.
“I suppose so,” said Erianthee. “And it will get you away from Maeshar and his crew.”
“A happy coincidence,” said Ninianee with a quick wink to Erianthee.
“And Doms Guyon,” added Erianthee.
“That, too,” Ninianee said more somberly.
“Not that I blame you,” said Erianthee, “but I may have need of you later in the day.”
“I’ll be here, whether or not I find Papa. I’ll return in the early afternoon, no matter what. I’ll hope to be back earlier, and Papa with me.” She stopped pacing and gave Erianthee a considered look. “You will have to leave shortly in any case, won’t you? Court begins its formal session soon.”
“If you mean for the Imperial Court, yes, I fear so,” she said, with an uneasy nod toward the door, as if she feared to be overheard. “I wish I could stay longer, but – “
”But the Emperor expects you, and what Riast wants, he expects to have. We disoblige him at our peril; it will endanger our House to be at odds with the Porzalk Empire. If you do not depart soon, Riast will hold Vildecaz as a potential enemy, and respond with his armies. All who stand against the Porzalk Empire are numbered as foes.” Ninianee started toward the door, her boot-heels tapping smartly on the marble floor.
“Yes, and that number could Include Vildecaz, if we aren’t careful. You’re right about that. We are in danger, deserved or not, and we must prepare to defend Vildecaz. I will be on guard all the time I’m gone, and I will learn as much as I can about what the Emperor is planning,” Erianthee reminded her. “That is why I answer his invitation every time he extends one.”
“Yes,” said Ninianee as she reached the door. “I suspect you’re right: he always wants Vildecaz. You do well by us, going to Riast.”
“On, Nin, I hope I do,” said Erianthee, a troubled look in her lovely face.
Ninianee caught her gaze and held it. “What do you fear?”
“That the Emperor will make me a kind of well-cared-for hostage to use against you and Papa.” This was almost a whisper.
“Very wise, Eri,” Ninianee approved. “So long as you keep that in mind, you’re not likely to be trapped.”
* * *
A little more than an hour later, as most of the guests were sitting down to a generous breakfast, Ninianee rode out through the main gate of Vildecaz Castle, across Hevomaj Stream, and turned northwest around the flank of the castle to the road leading toward the Library of Duz Kinzyrach. Against the advice of her sister and Doms Guyon, she traveled alone, armed only with a Fahnine saber; she claimed she could go faster by herself, and needed no more protection than her saber provided, for she could rely on the animals along the way to warn her of any danger ahead, and with that assurance they had to be content. Her horse – the lanky chestnut gelding with powerful front action, who had yearned for a courtyard of oats – was fresh and inclined to scamper, but Ninianee held him to a more-or-less trot as they reached the first branch in the road, where she checked him to avoid scattering a flock of sheep being driven to market in Valdihovee.
“Duzna!” the shepherd called out, respecting her as she rode by behind the sheep.
The road passed through a spinny, and made a gradual turn upward. At one time this had been a favorite haunt of thieves, but they had been routed six generations ago, and all that remained to remind the traveler of those more dangerous times was a partially crumbled stone wall. Nevertheless, Ninianee approached it carefully, putting her chestnut on the alert with a whispered word and an image of possible lurkers ahead, a lucky precaution, for as the rounded the end of the wall, the horse came to an abrupt stop – and sent Ninianee thudding into his mane – as they saw a small party of riders headed toward them.
Rightin
g herself in the saddle, Ninianee shaded her eyes and peered ahead through the dappled light, ready to draw her saber, and doing her best to count the number of riders in the approaching group. Suddenly her horse whinnied – not the strident challenge to strangers, but the equine shout of greeting – and was answered by three similar salutes. Ninianee relaxed in the saddle, knowing that at least some of the approaching horses were from the stables of Vildecaz Castle. She moved her hand from the saber’s hilt and sat back, waiting for the others to arrive.
There were four out-riders escorting a blocky wagon with large, stout wheels laden with books and drawn by a single horse – a grey-spotted mare that was Duz Nimuar’s favorite – and the Duz himself on the driving-box of the wagon, handling the reins. The out-riders wore the gaihups of the Library of Duz Kinzyrach, and all four carried spell-swords. As they drew in, all four offered Ninianee as profound a respect as their saddles would allow.
“Ninianee!” Duz Nimuar called out, raising his hand. “I am pleased to see you, but you needn’t have bothered.”
“Better to have done it when it is unnecessary than fail to do it when it is,” said Ninianee, repeating an old saw. She respected her father. “Erianthee and I have been concerned, and some of the guests are asking questions.”
“So I have supposed,” said Nimuar, starting his mare moving again. “You should have known that I would alert you if anything were truly wrong.”
“I’d hope that, yes,” she said, putting slight emphasis on the hope. “You return to a company of guests.”
“So I gathered from the Library’s Gaz-owl,” said Nimuar, with such utter seriousness that Ninianee could not decide if he were joking or in earnest.
“You have empowered a familiar?” Ninianee asked, her doubt imparting a kind of reserve to her gladness at seeing him.
“Just last night. I wished to know what I would be coming back to without putting all the Castle on notice of my return, or to alert anyone who might be waiting to receive me with malice, for I have magic enough left to know there are enemies under my roof. A Gaz-owl isn’t considered unusual as a familiar, and he makes a very useful spy.” He smiled at her, and while his face was drawn and tired, his eyes were as lively as Ninianee had ever seen them. “We have a great deal to do.”
“Hence the books?” Ninianee asked as she turned her chestnut to walk next to the wagon.
“Yes.” He fell silent, frowning. “I must find a safe place for these, before we reach the Castle. Somewhere Yulko Bihn will not find them.”
“Why should he bother to look?” Ninianee asked, then added, “I know he has evil intent in his heart, especially toward you. You know it, too.”
“Certainly,” said Nimuar. “But this shall not last, no matter how it may look just now. I believe than I may have hit upon the means to find Agnith’s Treasure.”
“In those books?” Ninianee asked, doing her best to keep the doubt out of her voice.
Nimuar nodded emphatically. “Once I have that, I shall be able to protect all of Vildecaz from all foes, and to undo all the harm Yulko Bihn has done, and I will be in a position to provide powerful magical frontiers for all the Duzky.”
“A wonderful accomplishment,” said Ninianee, keeping her reservations to herself.
“Oh, you need not despair, my daughter,” said Nimuar, signaling to his escort to proceed single file. “The road narrows ahead.”
“I don’t despair,” said Ninianee, knowing it was not completely truthful. “But I worry on your account.”
Nimuar offered her a gentle smile. “I wish I could persuade you that there is no need for it.”
Ninianee managed a genuine grin, “So do I, Papa; so do I.”
* * *
Doms Guyon was waiting just inside the first gate in the outer wall; he appeared to have been there for some time, for there were small leaves clinging to his knee-length dolaj, his hair was wind-blown, and his jaw was in need of shaving. He rode his own horse – a well-bred rose-grey – and he looked pleased to see Duz Nimuar, for he smiled and respected the Duz as deeply as his saddle would allow. “An honor to see you again, Nimuar of Vildecaz.”
Nimuar seemed startled by the formality of Doms’ greeting, saying only, “I am sure you are happier to see my daughter than me.”
To her inner annoyance, Ninianee felt herself blush, and she snapped, “Doms Guyon enjoys discomfiting others.”
“Not discomfiting,” Doms countered. “Amusing and perplexing, perhaps, but not discomfiting. Never say that, Ninianee.” His contrition was balanced by a suggestion of humor in his eyes.
Ninianee would not dignify his raillery with a reply, and instead sent her horse trotting briskly along the road toward the inner-wall gate. She decided she would not let Doms have the advantage of seeing her disconcerted again, so she was not paying as much attention as she might have as she entered the main courtyard and found herself face to face with Maeshar of Otsinmohr, who was practicing swordplay with four of his guests.
“Ah! Dandolmaz the Capricious must be well-inclined to me today,” Maeshar exclaimed as Ninianee drew in her chestnut and swung out of the saddle.
“May all the gods bestow their benefits upon you, Maeshar,” she said, barely respecting him and deliberately omitting his title.
“You have come back with your father – an excellent beginning to the day,” Maeshar enthused. “I will take this as an omen of improvement.”
Ninianee was unimpressed. “Your pardon, Maeshar: I must attend to my horse.”
“Surely you have grooms and stable-hands to attend to him?” suggested Maeshar.
“Of course. But my talent inclines me to the care of our stock, and the stables are my responsibility. Were that not the case, I would still prefer to look after my own animals,” she said in a manner that didn’t encourage dispute.
Maeshar concealed his irritation at her slight with a profound respect and a generous laugh. “Such an impulsive woman you are, Duzna.”
Ninianee offered no response to this remark, but took the reins of her horse and headed purposefully toward the stable; behind her she could hear the shout of greeting to Nimuar, and she felt a bit better about her behavior. She had almost reached the stable when Doms caught up with her again.
“Ninianee,” he said, not loudly but with such intensity that she stopped.
“What is it?” She was brusque with him, troubled by his affection and his concern for her.
“Be on your guard – your father’s difficulties are not over yet. I fear they may be just beginning.” He held out his hand. “Ninianee, if I can help, you have only to ask.”
Ninianee bit back a sharp retort, and for just the merest sliver of time, she wished she could bring herself to trust Doms, to believe him sincere, no matter what her prior experience of him had been. So she said only, “I hope it will not come to that.”
“And I,” said Doms, his dubiety unconcealed. “Perhaps we might have a moment for private talk later?” he suggested, knowing this wasn’t the time to tell her about the Cazboarth spies.
“Perhaps.” She urged her chestnut on, putting a little more distance between them before she dismounted in the stable-door, then led the chestnut in to be unsaddled, unbridled, and groomed. Ordinarily she would have tended to that work herself, but now she handed the chestnut over to one of the grooms, saying, “He’s not going to need walking – he’s cool enough to turn out as soon as he’s taken care of. He’ll need a little water and some new hay once he’s brushed down and the burrs combed out of his mane and tail. You can turn him out in the larger paddock in an hour or so, and give him a handful of grapes. He is fond of grapes.”
“Just so, Duzna,” said the groom, making no remark on her decision not to do anything for her horse, although he did think her inattention was unlike Ninianee.
“How has your time been spent during my absence?” Nimuar asked as he looked around the courtyard.
“Tending to entertaining our guests,” said Ninianee, a sar
donic note to her remark. “And finding a place to pass the nights.”
“Just so,” Nimuar said as if he wasn’t quite certain why that should be the case.
“I’ll tell you about it later, Papa,” said Ninianee, feeling a bit tired and annoyed with herself. “Erianthee has been hostess for the morning.”
“Very good,” approved Nimuar as he handed his horse off to the grooms and wandered away toward the tower door, one of the servants tagging after him, as if to make sure he didn’t get lost.
Doms was waiting a few steps beyond the stable door. “Duzna,” he said as Ninianee emerged from the stable, “I know you’re displeased with me – ”
“Displeased? You make too much of it, Doms Guyon,” she cut in, determined to limit his opportunity to engage her attention.
“Displeased with me for good reason. Yet I want to show you that you have no reason to be suspicious of me. It is true I did not leave when I planned to, and it may be that I should have informed you that I was still here, but for what seemed good reasons, I did not.” He kept up with her as she lengthened her stride. “I am here now to be of service to you in whatever way I can.”
“Good of you,” she said as she went into the castle, half-hoping he wouldn’t follow her.
He remained two steps behind her. “You and your sister have much to deal with, given your profusion of guests.”
She sighed. “Is there any other obvious observation you would like to make, Doms Guyon?”
“You’re tired, and you’re fretting about something,” he said. “You have had a difficult few nights, and you would prefer no one knew how much you have had to deal with.” He waited a heartbeat. “Whatever your secret, I will keep it, on Agnith’s Treasure.”
She stopped walking and turned to look at him. “It has been a busy time,” she said, deliberately vaguely.
“But at least the full moon is past, and – “
”What do you mean, the full moon?” she demanded.
The Vildecaz Talents: The complete set of Vildecaz Stories including Nimuar's Loss, The Deceptive Oracle and Agnith's Promise Page 13
