The Vildecaz Talents: The complete set of Vildecaz Stories including Nimuar's Loss, The Deceptive Oracle and Agnith's Promise

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  “Would celebrations be appropriate, under the present circumstances?” Zhanf asked. He glanced over at Neilach Drux. “You would know better than I what would be best – with the Duz and Duzeons absent, what kind of festivities would Nimuar expect the Duzky to keep?”

  “Duz Nimuar always deferred to the General and his daughters on such matters,” said Nimuar’s valet. He regarded General Rocazin with curiosity. “Do you have something in mind?”

  “Actually,” said General Rocazin, “I have three possibilities that I would like to propose to you. I think you may find that each has its merits, and each has certain disadvantages, but I don’t want to make a decision without consulting you, since you stand as deputy to the Duz and Duzeons.” She put her hands into the square sleeves of her gaunel and continued formally. “If you would like to discuss the matter now, I am at your disposal. If you would prefer another time, you have only to suggest it to me. I can accommodate my schedule to yours.”

  “Now is satisfactory,” said Zhanf with an inclusive glance at Drux. “Do sit down, General, and tell me what’s on your mind.”

  General Rocazin selected the high-backed chair upholstered in a tapestry showing the meeting of Burinee and Lorjoran, the Provider. Her composure was reassuring to Zhanf and Drux as she waited for them to join her near the fireplace. “I have given this much thought, and discussed it with Cook-Major Ver Mindicaz, attempting to decide how we’re to proceed. We have agreed to certain limits that will not burden the kitchen overmuch, or make an unseemly display at a time when too much jollity would be inappropriate.”

  “That’s wise of you,” said Zhanf. “At this time, too much display would be seen as offensive to many.”

  General Rocazin made a sign of agreement. “We have an increased awkwardness in that First Day is Duzeon Ninianee’s birthday. If she hasn’t returned, our observance of the occasion must follow Vildecazin traditions for such instances, which would include a half-meal, the other half to be served on her return.” She let the men consider this, then continued. “I believe that Last Night bonfires should be lit, no matter what else we decide to do, and an entertainment of some sort be arranged. Nothing extravagant, but enough to mark the occasion.”

  “It is customary in fortunate times and desolate ones,” Drux said, supporting the General.

  “I’ll dispatch Burinar to Valdihovee to engage performers for the evening, if this is satisfactory to you? It isn’t too early to make such arrangements, as many other hosts will be vying for such amusements for Last and First Day festivities.” General Rocazin paused. “Unless you have other suggestions?”

  “Your plan is satisfactory,” said Zhanf. “But nothing too . . . too magical. Let him hire those whose performances don’t depend on magic.”

  “I’ll so instruct him,” said General Rocazin. “I have thought that a meal of game cooked over open fires would compliment the bonfires. We would have to send out hunting parties to supply it, but that can be arranged, particularly if the weather holds. If that is too much of an extravagance, then pigs and sheep can take the place of game, or all manner of ducks and geese.” She was silent for a dozen heartbeats. “If we have such a celebration, it would be prudent to send an invitation to Maeshar of Otsinmohr, and to Boarthinee, for all they may be our enemies.”

  Zhanf frowned thoughtfully. “Could we limit those attending to Vildecazin, because the Duz and Duzeons aren’t here to serve as hosts?”

  “It could be an acceptable excuse,” said General Rocazin. “But we would have to have a more restrained celebration in that case – which I have considered. We could send Last and First Day gifts to Otsinmohr and Cazboarth, including to the Bindomaj capital, and extend an invitation for the Return Welcoming for Duz Nimuar when that happy time comes.”

  Drux shook his head. “Most of our neighbors think Duz Nimuar is dead, and could regard such an invitation as a sign that his death has not been confirmed. Yet, if we postpone our invitation against his return, we could offend many. We don’t want to encourage our neighbors to think we are postponing the Rituals to the Silent One until one of the Duzeons is here to continue the rule.”

  There was a discreet knock on the door, and from the far side, Heijot Merinex called out, “May I join you?”

  The three exchanged quick, uncertain glances, and then General Rocazin said,”He is the official magician for the Castle, Magsto. He should be part of our decisions.”

  Zhanf nodded, anticipating that they would have to deal with a number of secondary issues the Castle magician was sure to raise. “Enter, Merinex.” As the door opened, he offered a respect. “We’re trying to determine how best to celebrate Last and First Day.”

  “I’m glad some thought’s being given to them. If we’re seen as neglectful, it will redound to the Duzky’s discredit. There must be rumors enough in the region without adding more gossip to the whispers..” Merinex went to the upholstered bench and sat down carefully, making sure the elaborate sleeves of his gaihups were not too near the fire. “If we’re to have a celebration of any kind, we must find out what others expect us to do.”

  “Our difficulty stems from the Duz and Duzeons not being here,” said Zhanf.

  “Of course,” said Merinex. “A tricky situation, for nothing we choose will be entirely satisfactory.”

  “True enough,” said Zhanf, “but we must decide what will be the least offensive.” He looked at General Rocazin. “You were saying about the belief shared by some of Vildecaz’s neighbors regarding Duz Nimuar, and you were saying that we could use the occasion to reaffirm our confidence in his return. Do you have any suggestions for what would be the most effective way to achieve this?”

  She nodded. “We could make it very plain that we expect him to return, that we have already planned the festivities.”

  “We’d have to do that, of course,” said Merinex before anyone else could speak. He stared up at the ceiling. “We must rely on other occasions when the Duz wasn’t here, and use those festivities for our standard.”

  “And we’d have to make everyone understand that we have plans for an extensive Return Welcoming, because we know they are all returning,” said Drux, speaking out with purpose. “Otherwise we’ll be thought to be avoiding our obligations, or are afraid they are all lost.”

  Zhanf held up his hand. “I think that the third choice would serve Vildecaz the best, since we must present a posture of optimism to the world, which is essential, given how things stand in the Porzalk Empire.”

  “They hardly stand at all, if the recent travelers are to be believed,” said Merinex with a chuckle at his own cleverness.

  “That’s just the sticking point,” said Zhanf. “It’s not impossible that Riast will attempt to annex Vildecaz again, because his Empire is so depleted. So we’ll carry on as if we’re positive the Duz and Duzeons are alive and coming home – we must invite all those Vildecazin of any rank whatsoever to join us for Last and First Day. And since Duzeon Ninianee’s birthday is First Day, we should make certain it is properly remembered, or it will be assumed that she, too, could be dead.” He saw General Rocazin nod, seconding all he said.

  “I’m more worried about Duzeon Erianthee,” said Merinex. “From what we’ve learned of the conjure-storm that struck the Porzalk Empire, she may have been injured, or worse, a hostage to secure advantages for Riast here. The only notification we have had from Tiumboj was the magical notification that she would remain as the Emperor’s guest for an undisclosed period of time. I fear it may be some while before we see her again.” He shook his head somberly. “My talents don’t extend to seeking out the Duzeons, or determining the state they’re in.”

  “The Porzalk Emperor would surely send us word by Imperial messenger if anything had happened to Erianthee,” said General Rocazin.

  “You assume he has messengers to spare and roads for them to travel, and that he wants us to know what has become of her,” said Merinex. “Spells to locate her are useless, of course. Tiumboj is all
but impenetrable with protective spells, and anything we might glean from scrying would be unreliable. We must rely on the accounts provided by travelers. All reports so far say that most of Tiumboj was destroyed, and the Porzalk Empire was devastated. Whole provinces of the Empire are all but crushed. What importance, then, is one Duzeon from a small Duzky like Vildecaz in such ruination?”

  “You may be right,” said Zhanf, doing his best to contain his annoyance at Merinex, whose loquacity was beginning to pall. “But until we have proof of her demise or profound injury, we must continue to conduct ourselves as if she is well and will return as soon as it’s possible for her to travel in safety.” He wished now he had had the opportunity to affix a spell to her animals, at the least.

  “You may have a long wait,” said Merinex gloomily.

  General Rocazin gave Merinex a withering stare. “One might think you don’t want any of them to return.”

  Merinex looked up sharply. “How can you say that of me? Me, of all people?”

  “You are at pains to remind us what risks the Duzeons have taken, and you add nothing that could help us to locate Duz Nimuar,” she countered sharply. “Where is your sense of duty?”

  Before this rancor could erupt into acrimonious argument, Zhanf interrupted. “This isn’t helping us to determine anything more about Last and First Day. Even in a reduced form, there are matters to consider, and things to be done.” He paused, another unwelcome thought arising. “Where is Secretary Pareo?”

  “In Valdihovee,” said Drux. “He went down this morning.”

  “Whatever for?” asked Merinex.

  “He’s trying to arrange passage on a Fahnine ship. I told him this wasn’t a good time of year to set out for Fah, but he claims he has to return to Fah at once, that the Ambassador must surely have left Tiumboj, and he will have to join him or be declared dishonored. There are many strange customs on Fah, so it may be that he’s telling the truth.” Drux shrugged. “He has received no communications that I know of, but he may have a talent for knowing what the Ambassador has done, or he may simply want to be gone from here.”

  “But what does Zervethus Gaxamirin have to say about this?” Zhanf asked. “It was for him, not the Fahnine Ambassador, that Pareo came here. What will he say if Pareo is leaving without his permission.”

  “Or with it,” added Drux.

  Heijot Merinex shook his head. “The orders from Gaxamirin were for Pareo to determine if his presence was needed here – which, with Magsto Zhanf here, it wasn’t. Any obligation Gaxamirin may have to Duz Nimuar is discharged, so his need to journey here no longer exists. And I think we may consider it impossible that Imperial Scholar Gaxamirin would leave the Porzalk Empire at this time, even if he acknowledged an obligation – he would have excellent reason to remain where he is.” He made a supercilious gesture. “Whatever Pareo’s true purpose may be, I will assume his mission is finished, and so should you all.”

  Zhanf pulled at his lower lip. “Do you think Pareo is escaping? He hasn’t mentioned being recalled.”

  Merinex laughed outright. “If he is escaping, it is only from his own distress. What else could cause him to brave winter on the ocean?”

  “That’s what worries me,” said Zhanf, realizing as he said it that he ought to question Rai Pareo closely before the man left Valdihovee.

  General Rocazin gave Merinex a direct stare. “It was he who found Hoftstan Ruch, wasn’t it? Did he ever give a satisfactory explanation for how he came to find the . . . the body?”

  Zhanf held up his hand. “That is something I should like to discuss with him while I still may do so.” His face grew more serious. “General, make sure you know where he is at the next meal. If he’s still in Valdihovee, I suppose I must go down and search him out.”

  Merinex made a sign to ward off falsehood. “Don’t let the officious fool distract you from more important matters. It is Vildecaz that must command our attention, not Pareo. I don’t want to see Vildecaz embarrassed at Last and First Day on account of a Fahnine – “

  ”Pareo works for an Imperial Scholar and is an Imperial Secretary,” Zhanf reminded him. “He could be more involved than we know.”

  “But what does Vildecaz mean to Fah? Or to an Imperial Scholar, for that matter?” Merinex pursued. “If you spend your time trying to assign meaning to all his actions, you may well miss other matters of genuine importance.”

  “So I might,” said Zhanf. “But I still want to know why Pareo is determined to leave, and so suddenly.” He looked toward General Rocazin. “Or do you think I’m wasting time doing so?”

  “I believe you have good reason to inquire into the behavior of Secretary Pareo,” she said. “I find him – “ She stopped, then continued more precisely, “He’s like an actor determined to make us dislike him, and therefore to ignore him. I find that disturbing.”

  “And I,” said Drux, much struck by General Rocazin’s remarks. “The man is like a figure in a legend, not like a true person.”

  Merinex put his hands together. “Then why not let him leave – be done with him? Isn’t it better to have him out of Vildecaz than keep him here to cause mischief, whatever his reason for doing it may be?”

  “Better to know why he wants to leave than guess, and to understand what compels him to go,” said Zhanf. “If he’s leaving, any mischief he has planned may already be done, and it will be up to us to determine what it is. I’d rather subject him to a revelation-spell than try to guess what is to come.”

  “What if he is just a self-important official, one who has become a caricature of himself through years at Court?” Merinex suggested emphatically. “I say let him go and be rid of him. Fah can have him.”

  “If it were only Fah,” said Zhanf, “I would agree with you. But it isn’t Fah that worries me, it is this Fahnine Pareo.”

  “But he may have done nothing,” said Merinex, and then went silent. When he spoke again, his voice was calm. “But don’t let my qualms prevent you from doing what’s required. Send the day guard Company down to detain him. If you create a scandal, then you’ll deal with it.”

  “Is that what you fear – a scandal? A scandal is nothing, don’t you realize that?” demanded General Rocazin before Zhanf could answer. “Our Duz and Duzeons are missing, and you are troubled by an Imperial Secretary? What is wrong with you? How can you put the interests of that man above those of this Duzky? Heijot Merinex, I don’t know what to think of you.” She had risen, but now mastered herself and sat down again. “Your pardon, Magsto,” she said to Zhanf.

  Merinex went a deep shade of plum. “How dare you question my loyalty! It’s my devotion to Vildecaz that makes me point out these problems. I hadn’t realized that my remarks weren’t sought or desired, even though the magical safety of Vildecaz is my responsibility.” He rose in a huff. “Since my remarks appear to be unwelcome, I’ll leave you to decide how to proceed without my bothersome presence.” With that, he swept from the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Zhanf stared at the door, wondering if he should go after the irate magician. No, he decided, not yet. They had more to do here before he could spare the time to soothe Merinex’s wounded sensibilities. He would also have to decide how to deal with Pareo – a task that would be more difficult than reassuring Merinex – as well as setting time aside to try another searching-spell, this one to try to find Doms Guyon, whose tracking-spells had worn down at the time of the conjure-storm. He rubbed his face and looked over at General Rocazin, who was sitting as still as if she had been struck by an immobilizing-spell.

  Drux made a sign against discombobulation, saying, “Nyolach, the Unexpected, confound us no more.”

  Nodding in agreement, Zhanf coughed experimentally, then spoke. “Well, General, there is much to do. Shall we begin with deciding how to handle our Last and First Day invitations?”

  * * *

  On the third day after Ninianee had floundered ashore, her dogged progress along the river’s edge came to a place wher
e the canyon gave way to a shallow valley, and the towpath broadened enough to make it possible to walk faster and longer in a day. Although it was cold, it no longer froze at night, and where the ground was bare there were the first, tentative hints of spring as a faint fuzz of grass-shoots struggled out of the earth. Ninianee was pleased to see the shift in season, but that satisfaction was leavened by the knowledge that the full moon was coming, and this time she would have to deal with her Change alone. That thought kept her walking steadily throughout the day, ignoring hunger and fatigue, wanting only to reach the borders of Vildecaz as soon as possible. By evening, as rain-clouds gathered in the southern sky, Ninianee came upon a towing-stage station. There were lights in the windows and a dozen sturdy ponies in the paddocks behind the station which backed onto a broad meadow bordered by birches, ash, and willows. Her first impulse was to go past it, for she didn’t want to risk being delayed any longer, but she was exhausted and intensely hungry, so she decided to take a chance and approached the sturdy wooden structure, choosing the side-door rather than the front to make her approach. She hesitated before she struck the door with the flat of her hand, repeating her percussive summons when there was no immediate response.

  A barrel-shaped woman as substantial as the building she occupied opened the door to Ninianee’s knocking, standing, arms akimbo, her broad, plain face anything but cordial. “What is it?”

  This was a new experience for Ninianee. She offered the woman a respect, and said, “Pardon my intrusion. The barge on which I was riding broke apart in the river. I’ve been walking for three days. “I’m bound for Valdihovee in Vildecaz. I’m hungry and cold, and I’m willing to work for a bed and a meal. I don’t mind what kind of labor you have for me.” As if to soften the hostess’ demeanor, she added, “I’m good with all kinds of animals.”

  The woman regarded her skeptically. “Why did your barge break apart?”