Vision of Light [The Renegades 1]

by Amanda Hilton

  "What was that you wrote?"

  "A sign I saw in front."

  He nodded. “You recalled it well."

  "What did it say?"

  "You wrote Rose's Restaurant."

  "I did?"

  "Perfectly."

  Leaning over, he drew several invisible patterns on the table. “Can you retrace that?"

  Aislan shaped the patterns. Shaking his head, he smiled. “You spelled Danier."

  "I did?” Aislan could not control her excitement.

  He traced a series of invisible patterns on the table. “Retrace."

  She obeyed. “What did I spell?"

  "You spelled beautiful upside down."

  Aislan wanted to beg for more.

  "Spell Archangel's Fire,” he said.

  The inscription on the scabbard and on the hilt of his dagger. Aislan traced what she remembered.

  "Amazing."

  "I can write!"

  "You have an eidetic memory."

  "Eidetic.” She tried out the word. “I have a good memory?"

  "More than just a good memory.” Coming over to her side of the table, he pulled a chair to sit next to her. He started writing, saying a word for each connection of patterns he traced on the table: “Deep inhalation, expunge. Visualize and focus.” He stopped writing. “Retrace those words."

  "Deep...” Aislan moved her finger on the table, saying each word as she wrote.

  When she finished, he kissed her hard on the mouth. Quickly pulling away, he became aloof again. A jester could not be more comical, Aislan thought affectionately.

  "You are incredible,” he said. “You have complete recall."

  "Does that mean I can read?"

  "More than just read. This ability is very rare."

  "'Tis a part of my—” she lowered her voice, “sorcery?"

  "I have heard some people from the common population have this ability, so ‘tis not sorcery.” Looking about, he then got up and went to the proprietor near the entrance, who stood at a table writing something. Lucien came back with a large sheet, a menu. He read the items and the prices, pointing to patterns inside each word, giving her five items in one go. When he paused, she pointed to each place and repeated what he said. He read the entire menu quickly, pointing, and once finished, she repeated every word he said, pointing accordingly.

  "Very good. Each word is usually separated by a space.” He tapped once at a pattern.

  "Venison,” she said.

  He chose randomly, and she said the word or the number. He turned it upside down and picked a few random words, and she said them. Their meal arrived, and Lucien went back to his seat, to Aislan's disappointment. While she ate, she pondered about asking if he would teach her to read. Surely, that would not be the same as teaching sorcery. Aislan hesitated. She had become too demanding, so she resolved not to ask for anything more. If Lucien wanted to show her something, then he would offer at his convenience. Under the table, Aislan started jiggling her knees, realized what she was doing, and immediately stopped. She added Patience to the long list of virtues she needed to acquire.

  After supper, they went back out on the road. As they walked through town, Lucien pointed to passing signs, reading each one into her ear. Aislan had died and gone to her own heaven. As they moved along, she began to see the relation of each letter within each word. Sometimes, he would let her guess at the words surrounding a familiar one she had seen. Onto her palm, he traced the ‘vowels,’ one in capitalization, the other in lower case. Then he scribed the rest of the ‘consonants’ comprising the language, both in capitals and lower case. He drew the figures representing the number, then the abbreviated letters for tens, hundreds, and thousands. She retraced the alphabets on his palm, letter by letter. He kissed her again in approval.

  "Brilliant lady. You have learned the foundation for reading in a matter of barely an hour. We will learn how to pronounce each letter combination, and then you should be able to string letters and sounds in words."

  "You will teach me to read?"

  He looked about. After a few moments, they stopped in front of a large shop full of paraphernalia, and then went inside. Aislan could barely control her excitement when he picked out three books and a small package as well as a small bag made of hide. Once he paid for them, he pulled her aside and handed her a book. She opened it in excitement and found page after page of words and tables.

  "Laws and Politics.” Lucien tapped the title on the cover. “'Twill be useful to arm yourself with a little knowledge about how the system works so you can argue your case in front of the Court."

  In other words, she would not stand in front of the king and sound naïve or—even worse—ignorant. Aislan laughed, and Lucien grinned, white teeth flashing.

  "I think ‘tis perfect.” She touched a page reverently.

  When he handed her the second book, she opened it slowly to savor the moment, seeing more words and drawings of people, like portraits.

  "History of Sorcery Dissent.” Lucien tapped the title. “'Twas written by the Archbishop to represent the Church and the people. You might as well find out what the general populace thinks about the Sorcery Circle—according to the Church, of course. Mainly, ‘tis dissatisfaction and propaganda based on half-truths."

  Aislan laughed again, knowing Lucien would set all the half-truths straight with his own version. He grinned, and she was caught by his raw magnetism. They stared at each other for a few seconds longer. Aislan wanted to kiss his beautiful mouth, but uncertain of his reaction, she hugged the two books to her breasts instead.

  "Thank you. These are wonderful."

  He smiled, then handed her the third book. Once again, she took her time opening it to savor the moment. The book was blank.

  "You might as well learn to write, too. Now, now, Aislan, no need to cry."

  Wiping the tears of happiness from her cheeks, she reached up to kiss him. He did not pull away, and Aislan took advantage of the moment to be close to him, lingering to taste him more thoroughly while everybody milled about them. Finally, he released her and they looked at each other until Aislan's equilibrium righted itself again.

  Smiling, he handed her a set of scribers embedded in a holder. Aislan shrieked with delight.

  "Oh, oh! How beautiful!” Pressing her cheek against his chest, she closed her eyes. When she finally let him go, he put the books and the scribers in the leather bag. “I'll carry it,” she offered eagerly.

  "Too heavy for you.” He slipped the strap onto his shoulder, and then took her hand, weaving their fingers together. As they walked, Aislan could not stop smiling. Seeming to respond to her happiness, he was no longer aloof. She basked in his attention as he continued pointing and reading signs of the shops as they passed. Soon, they stopped in front of a huge, old building.

  "You feel ill?” Aislan asked in puzzlement.

  "Yes, a dosage for my aching head,” but his eyes twinkled. He pulled her into the apothecary's shop.

  Aislan looked along the rows and rows of shelves holding jars and bottles of assorted plants and powder. The place was empty for something so huge. Several girls walked about, all dressed in plain green gowns. One came forward and curtsied at Lucien, recognition on her face.

  "Milord. Milady."

  "A remedy for my aching feet,” Lucien said, which confounded her. He had walked fine. To Aislan's surprise, the girl winked at him with complete familiarity as they looked each other up and down.

  Images flashed in Aislan's mind, gone almost as quickly, but she caught the picture for a fleeting instance. These two had had plenty of sex with each other, with a third person in the picture, Aislan realized with sudden outrage.

  "The Healer is in.” The girl walked towards the back. Lucien followed, pulling Aislan along.

  They went through an entranceway to a hall with several doors and entered a plainly furnished room with nothing more than a table and a couple of chairs. On the table sat an assortment of jars of powder.


  "Welcome back, love. You are a rascal to leave with nary a word.” The girl's dark gaze moved down to his crotch before she tilted her face.

  Aislan wanted to throttle him when Lucien kissed the girl lightly on the cheek even though she offered her pouty, red mouth. The girl only grinned as she looked curiously at Aislan, who had no doubt she looked like a scullery maid in her tattered clothes. The girl wrinkled her nose slightly. She had Lucien to thank for not having bathed the last few days. They both smelled like pigs rolling in troughs.

  "Milady.” The girl curtsied slightly.

  Aislan simply looked at her. The girl shrugged at the snub, then winked at Lucien again. “You know your way, love."

  "Thank you, Ruby.” Lucien smiled at her before she left, closing the door behind her. Going to a wooden door in the back, he opened it. “Come along, my dear.” He extended his hand.

  Aislan did not like him too much at the moment. “You are a libertine!"

  "Do not be difficult.” Taking her by the wrist, he pulled her through the door. They entered a garden with rows and rows of medicinal herbs, some of which Aislan recognized from her own cultivation of them at Templeton Castle.

  "Where are we?"

  "Not yet,” he cautioned.

  They came up to dense vegetation, and Lucien stepped through a maze-like path. As they walked into the inner hold, the paths split into several trails. Lucien took a series of steps, and some of the bushes moved.

  "You may want to pay some attention if there ever comes a day when you need to find your way in or back out."

  After many left and right turns, eventually, they came to a wall of thick hedges. Separating the hedge, Lucien wedged himself through, pulling Aislan with him. They were enclosed in darkness. He lit one of the two lanterns hanging overhead and then unhooked it.

  "Where are we?” she repeated.

  "In a tunnel. Come.” He held onto her hand as they walked down the short passage. Lucien extinguished the lantern at the other end of the tunnel and hung it on another overhead hook. Still holding onto Aislan, he wedged himself through another hedge. They emerged onto the other side, and she found herself back to the same garden with rows and rows of medicinal herbs where they first started. She stared at the almost identical building ahead, so alike but not quite the same.

  "Have we walked in a circle?” Aislan asked, thoroughly confused.

  "Not quite.” Rather than heading for the door they had come out of the building into the garden, Lucien walked around to the front.

  "'Tis not the same building. Where have you taken me?"

  "'Tis Calvacade."

  "What is that?"

  "Sanctuary, for the moment."

  Lucien opened the front door, and they entered a huge laboratory. At one of the long tables stood a tall man dressed all in white, with his back to them.

  Chapter 16

  Sanctuary

  There was not a single flower in the room, yet the fragrance of different flowers filled the air. Nothing but vials of liquid and powder mixtures cluttered every table, so Aislan finally decided the different fragrances had to emit from the contents in the vials.

  The man in white turned when Lucien and Aislan came in.

  "Lucien!” He looked surprised but not shocked. He set down the vials he had been mixing and went to meet them.

  The man looked utterly divine, as tall as Lucien, with short dark hair and magnetic amber eyes. Dressed completely in white, his outfit was that of a noble lord, a long tunic that reached his knees, his pants molding well to his muscular legs. His white boots had no dirt on them. He looked only a few years older than Lucien. Aislan stared at him, finding it quite daunting to be in a room with two physically attractive men exuding such virility and magnetism.

  The man perused Aislan also, up and down. She became self-conscious of her tattered appearance. Having never been vain, Aislan did not understand what drove her to check her braid and smooth her filthy hair in place.

  "Milady,” he inclined his head slightly, “welcome to my humble home."

  "Thank you, milord.” Aislan was afraid to touch the magnificent-looking man.

  He looked back at Lucien. “You could have at least sent a message so I could have greeted you at the door."

  There was nothing wrong with what the man said, but Aislan felt a sudden undercurrent.

  "I apologize for intruding without at least a word of warning.” Lucien's politeness seemed odd also. The two of them only conversed for her sake. She and Lucien had taken a circuitous route, obviously traveling a decoy path, and her host now played along for her sake.

  "Aislan, ‘tis Lord Traver Calvacade. ‘Tis Lady Aislan,” Lucien made the introduction but qualified nothing.

  Lord Traver took her hand and kissed the back of it lightly, his long fingers cool and impersonal. From his touch, Aislan realized something else. Traver Calvacade was a sorcerer. She did not know how she knew because he projected no sorcery energy when he touched her, but she sensed it churning strongly in him. He was as powerful as Lucien, but not quite the same.

  "Lady Aislan is weary from traveling. I'll see to her comfort.” Lucien held up a detaining hand when Lord Traver made a move as if to accompany them. “No need to put yourself out. I'll be back."

  "Very well.” Lord Traver nodded, and the two men exchanged a look, clearly signifying a talk was due.

  See to her comfort! Aislan knew more than likely Lucien only wanted her out of the way so he and Lord Traver could have their conversation. Since the conversation would be about her, she might as well listen in. She glanced about the laboratory full of bubbling vials containing godforsaken potions, one of which she would soon ingest, no doubt.

  "I beg your pardon, Lord Traver, but milord has brought me here to change my identity,” she declared, in no mood to be trifled with, even though she imposed on Lord Traver's hospitality and in no position to demand anything. She would not stand by quietly while some mad apothecary experimented with her body, no matter how devastatingly attractive he looked.

  "Not now, Aislan,” Lucien addressed her like a wayward child.

  At least her protest had caught Lord Traver's attention, which he now focused on her. She squirmed slightly, finding the amber eyes disconcerting. Her acute awareness of him alarmed her. The amber eyes were familiar, and Aislan suddenly remembered the boy from the river who had saved her from Narisse. The eye color was nearly the same, the brown irises so pale they sparkled like gold, but Lord Traver had dark, black hair and the boy had light gold. She had never seen Lord Traver before, so she knew they certainly could not be the same person.

  Aislan pulled her attention from him to look at Lucien and received an icy response. It took her a moment to realize he saw her reaction to the attractive Lord Traver and apparently did not like it.

  Just when she thought the room was overwhelming enough, in from one of the back rooms walked a handsome, young man with dark hair and the same amber eyes. He looked similar to Lord Traver, though much younger. For just a moment, he bore a slight resemblance to Lucien also. He paused upon seeing them.

  Attractive men were crawling out of the woodwork.

  "My, my, what have we here?” Coming forward, he extended a hand. She hesitated because of her lack of grooming, and then gingerly placed her hand in his. Aislan sensed he was also a sorcerer, although his energy barely discernible. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it lingeringly despite the fact she looked and smelled as if she had waded across a moat for several days.

  "Jaden Calvacade, milady, your servant.” His gaze swept over her, admiring her openly. She smiled at him a little, noting his handsome face, the laughter sparkling in his amber eyes, and the charming dimples. He was probably in his mid twenties, a few years older than she was. Aislan resisted the urge to smooth down her hair again. She attributed her awareness of these men to her state of sexual frustration. Her hormones were wreaking havoc on her.

  Lord Jaden kept her hand in his as he turned to L
ucien. “Well, well, so here you are. What trouble have you brewed this time, dear cousin, that you have to sneak in?"

  Cousins? Aislan looked back and forth among the three men. Of course. Their coloring was the same, their skin a rich, dark brown. They all had the same shade of hair, with a slight wave. Lucien did mention he was bringing her to his family.

  She wondered why Lucien glared at Lord Jaden in open antagonism.

  Lord Traver cleared his throat slightly. “My mother is entertaining,” he said enigmatically. “There are over one hundred guests in the manor. A dozen more will stay the night."

  "Not an opportune time for me to sneak in,” Lucien said, and for some reason, all three men laughed. “Unfortunately, you are stuck with us for a while."

  "Until the guests take their leaves on the morrow, you may best stay at Lilypad."

  "I appreciate that.” Lucien nodded.

  "The duchess is also here,” Traver added.

  "I'll pay her a visit and beg her forgiveness for my neglect,” Lucien said, raising Aislan's ire further.

  "Jaden, if you do not mind, fetch the maids to tend to Lady Aislan,” Traver suggested.

  "Ah, yes, I am but an errand boy.” Jaden extended a hand to her. “'Twill be a pleasure to accompany my lady—"

  Lucien took Aislan's hand and pulled her away. “I'll be back.” Addressing Traver, he ignored Jaden completely before he walked towards the hall similar to the original building they had first entered. He walked into a room, then out another door into a flower garden, going through what seemed to be another maze.

  "Why do I feel as if we walk in circles, and yet we are not?” Aislan asked as she watched the familiar pattern of his foot movements they had taken earlier even though the paths looked different. The bushes moved in tandem with their steps, parting as they walked.

  "You need to follow a memorized pattern,” Lucien explained. “Otherwise, you walk in circles to nowhere."

  "The maze is enchanted.” Aislan was in total awe. “How did you manage this?"

  "Mayhap one day Traver would tell you if you charm him enough."

  "Hmph!” She snorted her doubt about being able to charm Lord Traver. Lord Jaden would be more receptive, but then, anyone could charm Jaden with a mere finger beckoning in his direction.