Agnith's Promise
Book Three of the Vildecaz Talents
While at the Imperial Court, Erianthee witnesses an enormous Conjure Storm that turns half of the palace complex to rubble. Afraid of what could come next, she heads for Vildecaz and home with Kloveon escorting her.
Meanwhile, in her searches for possible clues to Duz Nimuar's location and condition, Ninianee has come upon something that sends her and her partner, Doms Guyon, back toward Vildecaz, But both sisters find their travels marked by hindrances and unexpected difficulties. When they finally arrive, they discover that malefic forces have been at work here, too, and they have little choice but to take them on, or lose their Duzky, their father, and their talents completely.
Nimuar's Loss
Book One of The Vildecaz Talents
Stirring high fantasy adventure as two sisters must find their power in accepting their journey.
Ninianee and Erianthee, the daughters of Duez Nimuar of Vildecaz, have unusual magical talents: Ninianee has a close relationship with animals, Erianthee can summon up the Spirits of the Air to take on human form and act out legends and myths.
When Erianthee is summoned to the Imperial Court, Ninianee remains behind at Vildecaz, not only to administer the Duzky, but to begin a search for Duez Nimuar who has disappeared.
The Deceptive Oracle
Book Two of the Vildecaz Talents
Duez Nimuar is missing and his two talented daughters are determined to find him, Erianthee through her magical Puppet Shows. Niniannanee through her close knowledge of animals.
Both sisters are accompanied by their declared suitors. Kloveon with Erinathee and Doms Guyon with Niniannanee; what each discovers in her own way makes it clear that there is more to their father's disappearance than anyone expected.
Agnith's Promise
Copyright © 2007 Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Published by Avalerion Books, Inc.
Cover design by James Abel
Stock photography by Jessica Truscott - http://faestock.deviantart.com/
Additional artwork by Latyrx - http://latyrx.deviantart.com/
All Rights Reserved
First e-book edition December 2013
This ebook is for your personal device only. No part may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincident
For Gryffyn Phoenix
with thanks and good wishes
Table of Contents
1. Disruptions
2. Complications
3. Turning-Points
4. Wiles
5 Desperate Measures
6. Returnings
7. Realizations
8. Epilogue
Glossary and Pronunciation Guide
Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Bibliography
1. Disruptions
“You see why I need you to help me,” Riast said to Erianthee as they picked their way through the wreckage of his Imperial Hall. In the two days since the conjure-storm had struck, all of Tiumboj Castle had been inspected, and where possible, repair-spells had been cast to minimize the damage, holding up walls and restoring what structure they could until the masons and carpenters could get to them, giving the Castle something of the look of a patchwork building – which it was. In this vast hall, a portion of the ceiling was missing, and a light, misty fog lent its blur and dampness to the late morning. “If my enemies are willing to bring this destruction upon me, I have to know who they are, and what they have in store for me. Otherwise I’ll be as naked to their next attack as I was to this one.” His face bore the stoic sadness of someone expecting the worst.
“Tell me, Emperor, why you think my Shadowshow can do this for you? How will the Spirits of the Outer Air be able to embody you foes for you, when neither you nor I know who they are?” Erianthee asked, feeling sympathy for him even as she steeled herself to refuse his request. She felt shabby and gritty, the Castle baths having been one of the first buildings hit by the storm. She still wore the torn and blood-stained gaunel she had put on before the conjure-storm struck, for her apartments had crumbled during the onslaught – fortunately Rygnee had been in the Servants’ Hall, near the central kitchens when lightning bolts demolished the suite of rooms, and although bruised, was still alive, but like Erianthee, had no other garments than what she stood up in.
“Because it must,” said Riast, his eyes dark with commitment. “Surely you see that, don’t you?”
“You have fine magicians at Court, many of them with more talents than I possess, many who share your goals,” she pointed out as she had done often before. It was an effort to keep her manner acquiescent – she wished he wouldn’t continue to ask this of her. “They must be able to provide you the information you want more reliably than I can.”
“Your Shadowshows are less tainted than their prognostications – you are free from interests in the outcome of this attack, which inclines me to trust you more than I can afford to trust my magicians. If you were of the Court and the Empire, I would have doubts of you, too,” he responded, making a sign to the Imperial Guards who followed after him. “This is between the Duzeon and me. Make sure it is so. You’re not to allow an interruption.”
The Guards all respected him and took up their protective stances out of hearing range, their pikes upraised.
Leading Erianthee away from the Imperial Guards, Riast tried once more to explain his plan. “If you will do a Shadowshow as we had planned, you can reveal how the conjure-storm came about. This should be less arduous than performing a prophetic Shadowshow – the events have happened and you needn’t release the Spirits of the Outer Air to proceed on their own. Think of this as one of the myths you bring to life so well. You can do it as you have done so many other Shadowshows, and you can earn my eternal gratitude, and the gratitude of my House. For Vildecaz's sake, as well as the sake of the Porzalk Empire, tell me you will do this.”
Recalling what Kloveon had told her about his own concerns, Erianthee said, “You say this as if you’re prepared for bad news. But if the Shadowshow reveals . . . If it is not what you hope to learn, what then? What use will it be, assuming that there is enough in what is revealed to help you. When I have performed such Shadowshows in the past, I had no control over them – either in what they showed, or what they addressed.”
“Anything will help me. I know I will have to face the knowledge of betrayal, no matter what the outcome,” said Riast somberly. “It is not a thing I am looking forward to doing. But better to know, and to root out the treason, than to guess at its proponents and through ill-considered action, harm those who support the Empire and destroy allies instead of enemies.”
The answer was too pat for Erianthee’s comfort, a rehearsed assurance that meant he had anticipated her reservations. “You place me in a very difficult position, as you must know. You may hold this against me, Emperor, but I am unsure I can do as you ask. You know my reservations from our previous discussions, and since the storm . . . I have been affected by the conjure-storm as much as anyone, and that may cloud my vision.”
“But you have just said that you have no control over your prophetic Shadowshows.” The Emperor was clearly becoming annoyed.
“Exactly so. You are the one who would like me to shape
such a Shadowshow, Emperor. But I can’t promise that I’ll be able to separate myself from the events and their source, even if I were capable of performing as you ask.”
“I’ve considered that, and I have consulted a few of my Councillors,” said Riast. “I know that all magicians and those with similar talents are subject to all manner of influences most of us with only minor abilities cannot fully comprehend. Yet I know you would want all this ruination to be retaliated. You can’t expect the Porzalk Empire to numbly accept this attack, can you?”
“No,” she said forlornly. “But I see no use in escalation, and I fear that no matter what my Shadowshow reveals – if it reveals anything – will be nothing more than an incentive to more devastation and anguish.”
“Your concerns do you credit,” Riast told her, patting her upper arm in an avuncular fashion. “I wish I were in the position to adopt it for myself, but alas, I mustn’t allow myself to be lulled by conscience. This affront is too great. The traitors must be found.”
“Surely they must, but I doubt my Shadowshow would be the most effective way to do that. Your Court magicians will do you a better job of discovery than ever my Shadowshows could do,” she said, and went on before he could present another reason to have her attempt what he sought. “I have no sense of the complexities of your situation, Emperor, beyond that they are complex. If the Spirits of the Outer Air cannot grasp these subtleties through me, then whatever results I may accomplish for you, they’ll be inaccurate. I wouldn’t like to point a finger at one who is undeserving of condemnation, and leave the real culprits undetected.”
“I’ve thought about that,” said Riast. “And I would like to include Magsto Horeion Kovat in your presentation. He has a very good talent for detecting accuracy in all things, and could help to evaluate what your Shadowshow – “
”I can’t do a Shadowshow under such conditions, not even one about myths – look at this place. It’s held together by cords and spells. To try to manifest Spirits of the Outer Air in such a setting – it would take someone far more accomplished than I to do so,” she exclaimed, daring to interrupt him. “If there is any secondary evaluation while I’m doing the Shadowshow, the Spirits of the Outer Air will not manifest at all.” She twisted her hands together. “I thought I’d explained this all to you, Emperor. I don’t say it to defy you, but to make certain you aren’t disappointed, or worse, misled. I haven’t the strength to exceed my talents, and I would not trust my results if I did.”
“Yes, you did tell me something of the sort before, and I was prepared to do my best to extend a certain leeway to you,” Riast said. “But the situation now is much more grave than it was three days ago. Then I might have tried to accommodate your requirements, but I no longer have such an option. I don’t mean to exhaust you, Erianthee, or damage you, but I must know who is moving against me, or we may see a repeat of the bloodshed that followed my great-uncle’s death which preceded my coming to the throne. You’re too young to remember. You weren’t born when it happened, nor was your sister. But doubtless your father – when he returns – can tell you a great deal about those appalling four years.”
“If he remembers,” murmured Erianthee.
“Yes – if he remembers,” the Emperor repeated. “It was a dreadful time, and I will do everything in my power to keep anything like them from coming upon us ever again.”
“Most commendable,” said Erianthee, and summoned up all her diplomatic skills to continue. “I would support all you do, but my talent, alas, will not bend to your order. Much as I would like to obey you, in this instance I cannot. I apologize for being unable to fulfill your command, yet I must, or offend you further.”
“You are a most determined young woman,” said Riast with a sigh. “I had hoped not to do this, but you leave me no other choice.” He spoke a little louder. “I regret that I am unable to dismiss you from your service here. Until you can perform such a Shadowshow as I require, I fear I must detain you here in Tiumboj Castle. You know far too much of my current plans to allow you to expose yourself to my enemies. They would do worse than hold you as a guest – “
”Hostage,” she corrected without apology.
“That is such a blunt word, Duzeon, and such a harsh concept,” he said with a condescending smile. “Not hostage, surely, for you have the means of your own deliverance within you. I would rather say that you are my appreciated guest, and that for the sake of your talent, I have asked you to remain where you can be guarded from those who might otherwise harm you.”
“Not a hostage,” she corrected, “a prisoner.”
“Nothing so uncharitable,” Riast said. “I know you would rather not be compelled to perform, but when I weigh one young woman against the safety of all the Porzalk Empire, I have to align myself with the Empire.”
“To which Vildecaz does not belong,” she said, her temper rising in spite of all her good intentions.
“More’s the pity,” he said. “Vildecaz must fend for itself in these hard times. Under other circumstances, I could offer you protection.”
“As it has before, Vildecaz will get by,” she said curtly.
“You and I surely hope so. Yet I must suppose the conjure-storm reached Vildecaz. If it did – high winds being what they are - it would do damage, although it must have been near spent. It wrecked most of its force on Tiumboj, or so we must hope. For the sake of your people and your Duzky, don’t you agree that your talents could be well-spent helping me to identify those who sent such destruction? If not an alliance, we have a shared interest in this.”
She knew she was being manipulated. This didn’t surprise her, but it did make her wary. She folded her arms. “Emperor, you are a man of dedication and prudence, but in this, I believe you are making a mistake. You are searching for a remedy that I can’t provide. If I were convinced that assisting you could bring about relief for any in Vildecaz harmed by the conjure-storm before it blew itself out, I would do so, but not for revenge, for the common cause we would share. And my efforts would not include an attempt at a prophetic Shadowshow, or one that would show you who your enemies are.”
A discreet cough from one of the Imperial Guards demanded attention. Riast and Erianthee turned to see the Dowager Empress Godrienee approaching, her clothes as smirched as Erianthee’s, but without any sign of loss of dignity or authority.
“You said you wouldn’t pester the Duzeon, Riast. Yet here you are, no doubt prompting her.” Godrienee’s tone was subdued and her voice low, but there was no mistaking her expression or her intention to be heard.
“I don’t like having to do this,” Riast said, becoming justificatory. “You know something must be done, and done soon, or there may be more magical tempests unloosed upon us.”
“There may,” said Godrienee. “But not immediately. The Great World cannot sustain conjure-storms for very long, or very often. If our enemies are to strike again, they will have to do it by other means, and you have several magicians who can set up protections against another surprise.” She stood next to Erianthee. “Don’t be bullied, Duzeon. You’ve done a great deal for my son already.”
“Yes, she has,” said Riast. “Which is why I am depending upon her now to do this other task for me.”
“No matter how exhausting it is,” said Godrienee.
“We’re all exhausted,” said Riast.
“All the more reason not to push for results, which are likely to be faulty. You know the limits of such talents as Erianthee possesses, and the folly of compelling a result from the Spirits of the Outer Air.” She took Erianthee’s hand. “I also surmise that you would feel . . . shall we say unhappy? if your Shadowshow revealed those close to my son among the conspirators.”
Riast flung up one hand impatiently. “Exactly my reason for asking her help. No courtier – magician or not – will tell me that someone close to me is plotting against me. The Duzeon has the talent and she has the advantage of not being of the Court, and so can – “
Godrienee utter a single, impatient laugh. “You don’t really believe that, do you? She, of all your guests, has the least assurance of immunity, because she is an outsider. There is every chance that you would turn on her for telling you something you didn’t want to hear, which you could do with impunity. Various powerful members of the Court might do as much in your stead. Think, my son, of the peril you’re trying to place her in, and curb your demands.”
Relief coursed through Erianthee to be followed at once by renewed worry. The Dowager Empress was right. She had voiced Erianthee’s concerns with a concision that Erianthee hadn’t been able to achieve. “Empress,” the Duzeon said hesitantly, disliking the prospect of arguing with both the Emperor and his mother. “I am sorry I can’t comply with – “
”There is no cause for you to be sorry,” said Godrienee. “You’ve done the right thing by refusing to give into his demands. If anyone should be sorry, it’s he.” She turned on her son once more. “I am giving Erianthee my protection, and for as long as she remains at Tiumboj Castle, you will not threaten her again.”
Riast shook his head several times. “I don’t know what else to do, Mother. How am I to bring the Empire to strength and peace while my enemies can operate freely, secure in the knowledge that they are unknown and undiscovered? If you can think of something as reliable as the Shadowshows Duzeon Erianthee can conjure, I wish you would apprize me of it.”
“What you say may be true, and it is possible that no one presently at Court has any talent to get you the intelligence you seek,” said Godrienee, “but there must be other means to get the information you need without harassing Erianthee.” She held up her hand. “No more now, Riast. There’s too much to attend to already. Don’t increase your own burdens while there is so much to do.” She tugged on Erianthee’s hand, prepared to lead her away from the Imperial Hall. “Come, Duzeon. My quarters are almost intact. We’ll have something to eat – real food, not magical – and then we’ll discuss what you are and are not prepared to do to help the Emperor.” She shot a last look at her son as she and Erianthee picked their way through the rubble, out of the Imperial Hall. “Don’t fret,” the Dowager Empress went on as they hastened along the corridor, “he’ll come to his senses soon enough.”
Agnith's Promise: The Vildecaz Talents, Book 3 Page 1
