“We’re going to stand out, anyway,” Victor said. “It’s not like we can hide Marshal’s face forever.” Marshal looked at him. Victor shrugged. “It’s true.”
“We’ll have to make do, the best we can,” Aelia said. “We’re heading into Reman, which is Volraag’s home.”
“That makes it the last place he’d expect to find you,” Talinir pointed out.
“True, but word might spread of one of the Eldanim escorting a scar-faced young man,” Aelia said. “All we can do is try to minimize our interactions with other people as much as possible. If we need to get anything, Victor and I should be the ones to handle it. In fact, Talinir, it would be best if you didn’t speak much, if at all. Let people wonder, if they must.”
“They must,” Victor said.
“Then we do what we can, and trust the rest to Theon,” Aelia said firmly. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we take to the roads.”
•••••
As expected, the party drew quite a few stares when they passed others on the road. The curiosity never seemed to make anyone bold enough to speak to them, though. Marshal wasn’t surprised. The other travelers they saw rarely were armed in any way, yet their group had three swords in plain sight. Combined with his scars and Talinir’s otherworldly appearance, it made them quite intimidating.
On their third day on the roads, another traveler joined them for lunch. They had stopped beside the road to eat. Marshal had taken a single bite when a dark-skinned man in a well-worn robe stopped in the same place.
“Greetings, friends. Mind if I join you?” Without waiting for an answer, he stepped off the road and found a place to sit next to Victor. He set his bag down and took a deep breath, smiling.
An awkward silence followed. Finally, Aelia spoke. “Welcome, priest. I regret that we have little to share, but what we have is yours.”
“Oh, no need,” he said. “I have my own.” He rummaged through his bag and brought out a loaf of flat bread. He bowed his head over it and mouthed a few words. Then he broke it in half and began eating. Marshal glanced at Aelia. She shrugged and resumed her own meal.
The priest looked around at each of them while he chewed. Marshal noticed he did not react at all to Marshal’s scarred face. “You’re a fascinating group,” he said. “I’m always thrilled to meet new people.” He looked at Talinir. “And in all my travels, this is a first for me. I’ve never met a member of the Eldanim before. I am honored, sir.” He lowered his head in a reverential bow.
Talinir nodded in return.
“Are you from Mandiata?” Victor asked.
The priest chuckled. “What gave it away? My accent?”
“No, it was–”
“I know what it was,” the priest cut him off. “That was an attempt at humor. I don’t always succeed in those attempts. Gives me something to strive for.”
Marshal blinked. The priest’s voice was low and soothing, but surprisingly rapid. Marshal had trouble keeping up with some of it.
“Mandiata is a long way,” Aelia said. “You have traveled far.”
The priest nodded, still smiling. “I have now enjoyed the privilege of visiting five of the six lands that make up Antises,” he said. “Once I make it to Rasna, I will have seen them all.”
“So you’re on your way to Rasna?” Victor asked.
“Well, not yet. First, I am expected at the temple in Reman. That is my present course.”
“We’re on our way there too,” Victor said. Aelia shot him a reproving look.
“Wonderful! We are traveling in the same direction, to the same destination. I hope you will not object to my following in your footsteps. I do so enjoy becoming acquainted with other travelers.”
Everyone looked at each other, but no one seemed to know what to say.
“I take it by your silence that you’re unsure if my presence will be detrimental to whatever pilgrimage drives you,” the priest said.
“It’s not that,” Aelia said.
“If you stay with us, you will probably be putting yourself in danger,” Talinir spoke for the first time. “We are likely to draw some… undesirable attention.”
“All the more reason to have a priest along, then? I do not fear danger, though I admit I cannot foresee what sort of danger there might be on the road to Reman. This region isn’t prone to flooding, is it?” He looked up at the sky, as if he expected a torrential downpour to begin suddenly.
“Not that kind of danger,” Victor said. “People might try to kill us.”
The priest raised both eyebrows. “Indeed? In spite of the curses? Interesting. I see you must have a fascinating story to tell.” Before they could respond, he raised a hand and shook his head. “I won’t pressure you for it. If you choose to tell me in your own time, that’s wonderful. But if not, I will be content with what I have.”
“If you value our privacy, and do not pressure us, as you say,” Aelia said slowly, “then I have no objections.” She looked at the other three. No one else said anything. Victor shrugged.
“Excellent! Now that that’s out of the way, I suppose we should introduce ourselves, at the least. I am Nian, priest of the most high Theon, formerly of the great city of Tenjkidi, now itinerant. Mostly by choice.” He looked to Marshal. “You’ve been quiet, my lad. What might your name be?”
“Oh, he–” Victor began.
“He doesn’t talk much,” Aelia said. “This is my son, Marshal. I am Aelia. This is Victor. We are all traveling from our village in the northwest. This is Talinir, an Eldani warden. He joined us a few weeks ago.”
“I am honored, honored indeed, to meet all of you. Chance meetings, such as this, often lead to great things, in my experience. Though, of course, I should not use such terminology. Chance is a myth. Theon arranged for our meeting, and its eventual ending is also of his arranging.”
Aelia seemed to consider that. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said. “Time will tell.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
THE LORDS OF Kuktarma and Varioch both arrived three days later. Neither came with much ceremony. Lord Meluhha came only with attendants. Lord Varion also came with a small group of attendants and one other young man.
“Who is that?” Seri asked. He stood tall and strong-looking, with short blond hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. He straightened his cape, the most dramatic accent of his elegant but mostly practical clothes. His blue eyes swept the crowd, resting briefly on Seri before moving on.
“I think that’s Lord Varion’s heir,” Jamana said. “They look similar.”
Seri shot a look at Lord Varion. She had to admit that he appeared to be an older, fatter version of the young nobleman who continued to examine everyone and everything about him. He seemed to be analyzing any threats to his father, or to him.
His eyes again settled on Seri and he smiled. She felt her heart skip a beat. The nobles of Varioch had a much lighter skin tone than she was accustomed to, but she could not deny that the Lord’s son was incredibly handsome.
“I don’t like him,” Dravid said. Seri shot a look at him. Dravid scowled. Had he been able to read her reaction? Embarrassing! Seri was thankful she didn’t blush too easily.
“Did they bring a new Master?” Adhi asked. As often happened of late, Seri had forgotten he was even there.
“I do not see one,” Jamana said. “Perhaps they have not had the time.”
Once again, the acolytes stood by as the party moved toward the citadel. Lord Varion’s voice carried over the crowd.
“I tell you, this fake King is nothing more than a play for power by that Rasnian!” he said. “It can’t possibly be real!”
One of the Masters said something in response.
“He wants to have leverage against me for the land dispute, of course!” Varion said. “I will not be taken in!”
“Well, someone’s convinced,” Dravid said.
“Of course,” Jamana said. “Varioch and Rasna are on the verge of war. Everyone knows this.”
&n
bsp; “Everyone knows it, but it doesn’t actually happen,” Seri said. “Master Hain wondered the same thing as Lord Varioch. Maybe the new King is a fake.”
“We’ll know in a few days’ time,” Dravid said. “Lord Tyrr is the only one not here yet. And there are only ten days left until the Passing.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
NIAN TURNED OUT to be a most interesting travel companion. His journeys had provided him with many fascinating stories, both of his own travels and those of the places he’d visited. Marshal found it all extremely interesting. After only a day together, he found himself captivated by Nian’s every word. The only thing that bothered him was when Nian would divert off on a sudden monologue in praise of Theon. Marshal knew he was supposed to revere Theon. Everyone was. But in his mind, he couldn’t separate the god from the curses.
“It’s an enormous bull!” Nian exclaimed. “With a great hump on its back!”
Marshal blinked. Somehow he had missed the start of another conversation. Victor appeared to be baffled by something Nian had said.
“They use them in place of horses?”
“No, they have horses, as well. But they use these humped bulls for many of the jobs you might give to horses, or donkeys even. They don’t have donkeys in Kuktarma.”
“But we have bulls,” Victor said.
“Not like these. They’re much larger than anything you have here. And I did mention the humps, correct? Like a massive chunk of muscle just sitting there on top of their shoulders. And their eyes! I swear, when one of them is angry, their eyes turn red, like a gateway to the underworld. I know, let me tell you. I stared directly into them.”
“You stared an angry bull in the eyes?” Aelia asked. She was smiling, an all-too-rare sight lately.
“It was in a small town on the northeast side of Kuktarma,” Nian said. “This bull had gotten loose and was rampaging down the street. I helped a small child climb onto the roof of a nearby house. Their roofs are all flat, by the way. Very convenient. When the child left my hands, I turned and the bull was standing right before me, as close as I now stand to you!” The answer had seemed aimed at Aelia, but Nian looked at Marshal when he said it.
“What happened?” Victor asked.
“I stared into those red eyes, sure that I saw my death within them. I told Theon that I had hoped to see the pillars of Raeton before that, but if he wanted to take me, I was ready.” Nian paused for effect. “And the bull turned. It lunged at the wall beside me, as if offended by it, then galloped off down the street.”
Victor narrowed his eyes. “Did that really happen?”
Nian looked shocked. “I am a priest of Theon, good man! I would not lie to you!”
Victor continued to frown.
Nian glanced around, then leaned in closer to Victor as they walked. “I will tell you this,” he said, pretending to whisper, “they taste delicious.”
“You ate one, too?”
“The same bull. One of the villagers had to kill it, so we ate it. Now, you have to cook the meat an extra-long time, or it’s too tough. But once you do, oh, it’s delightfully savory. I can’t believe how much of that bull I ate that night. I was full of it!”
Marshal did not know what to think of this priest. He behaved nothing like the traveling priest that visited Drusa’s Crossing so regularly. That man was dour and serious all the time. Marshal couldn’t recall ever seeing him smile. Nian’s face almost never lost its smile.
“Why do you suppose there are no blessings?”
Marshal looked up in surprise. He had gotten lost in his thoughts again. Aelia and Talinir walked ahead of them, discussing something he couldn’t hear. Victor had dropped further back, leaving Nian alone with Marshal.
“The Laws of Bindings and Cursings,” Nian said. “Why isn’t it the Laws of Blessings and Cursings, do you suppose? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Blessings for what is right, cursings for what is wrong.”
Marshal could only blink in response.
Nian seemed unfazed. “I don’t expect you to answer,” he said, his voice sounding far more serious than it usually did. “It’s something I’ve often pondered over, and this present company makes it more profound than ever.”
Had someone told him about Marshal’s curse? Or the Binding with Victor? Marshal felt his hand start to vibrate. He grabbed at the hilt of his sword to calm it. If Nian noticed, he didn’t comment on it.
“Would you like to know what I decided?” Nian went on. “The problem is not with Theon. It’s with the men who claimed to serve him. The mages and Lords who created the Laws. Not the Laws as written, of course, but the magic that enforces them. In all of his writings, Theon gives his people a choice. He never compels. There are consequences to actions, of course, but I just… I don’t see him being pleased with what men have done with his words.”
Nian spread his arms and gestured at the farmlands they currently passing through. “I have traveled throughout Antises and it is the same everywhere. The law is observed. No one steals. No one kills. But… their hearts are not changed. Instead, they resent Theon and secretly curse him back. This cannot be what he intended.”
Nian fell silent. His smile was gone. Marshal could not fathom why the priest had chosen him to hear this speech. He felt there was truth in what had been said, or at least that Nian felt it to be true. The problems of a god and what people thought of him seemed far beyond Marshal’s life and the problems of the here and now.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
SERI SETTLED IN to the new “normal” of Zes Sivas. She had little time for training any more, and Master Hain had even less. The Lords required numerous messages to be sent from one to another, prior to any face-to-face meetings. The citadel had several message-runners, but nowhere near enough, so the acolytes had been recruited for that purpose. They also ended up running other errands, from finding more bedding, to cleaning up messes, to delivering food and drink.
Lord Enuru also requested Seri specifically to take notes during his meetings with the other Lords. Though it sounded like an exciting prospect, it ended up quite boring. The Lords would inquire after each others’ families, discuss the possibility of the new King, and then move on to their official business, which almost always involved some kind of trade deal. Seri dutifully wrote down everything that was said, but little of it made sense to her.
She did gain some insight into Lord Enuru’s frame of mind, however. He held more face-to-face meetings than any of the other Lords. Arazu was the smallest of the six lands, and thus needed the most in trade. Unfortunately, it did not have much in the way of exports, which led to what Seri regarded as very unbalanced deals. Still, she could not fault Lord Enuru for his labor. He seemed to work harder than any of them.
Dravid had fewer assignments than the others, due to his condition. Seri wondered how he kept himself busy. At least he had stopped being so morose.
Lord Varion ended up being the most difficult, with his hand-delivered meals. They never satisfied him. Whoever delivered the meal had to make repeated runs back to the kitchen for different spices, drinks, or even completely different meals.
On the third night, Seri brought the tray of food. When she entered, Lord Varion was seated at his table, writing something. He glanced up as she entered.
“I’ll eat in the bedroom,” he said, looking back down. “Take the food there.”
“Yes, your Lordship.” Seri walked through the first two rooms. She hesitated once she reached the bedroom. Only one small table stood beside the bed here, and she would have to remove a pile of clothes to set the tray on it. She sighed. With no other option, she set the tray on the floor temporarily, then began to clear the table.
“That’s good enough.”
Seri jumped. How had Lord Varion followed her? She hadn’t heard a sound. The presence of all the Lords on the island overwhelmed her magic senses almost all the time now, so she hadn’t sensed him either. It seemed strange that a man so large could move that fast.
“Sir?”
“Your face is pleasant enough. Can’t tell much about the rest of you through that ridiculous robe, but we’ll get past that soon enough.”
Seri swallowed hard. Was he implying…?
Lord Varion raised his hand. Seri felt a wave of vibratory power wash over her. Immediately, she felt calm and relaxed. At least, her body did. She felt disconnected from her own flesh, unable to control it. Her mind screamed in horror and protest, but the screams couldn’t seem to make it to her mouth.
“Feel good?” Varion approached her. “I learned how to use the power that way very early. It makes things so much more… agreeable.”
Seri blinked and her star sight activated. All she needed was one light beam strong enough, and she knew she could break out of this. Only… she couldn’t move her hands. She couldn’t reach out and grab a beam. She would have to wait for one to come to her.
But they weren’t coming to her! All of the light beams coming through the floor in the room curved toward Lord Varion! His power drew all the other power toward him.
Never in her life had she felt so completely helpless. Seri desperately tried to channel something she just didn’t have. No strength. No control over her own body. No magic.
Lord Varion touched her face, then ran his fingers down her neck. “Lovely,” he murmured. “Your skin tone is quite exotic.”
Seri heard a movement above. Her eyes darted up and saw one of the air vents from the crawl tunnels. Noises came from within. Dravid! He must be up there right now!
“Sounds like a rodent problem,” Lord Varion said, with a quick glance upward. “I’ll have to speak to one of the Masters about that later. For now, let’s get to know each other better.”
His hands began to touch her through the robe. He removed her belt and dropped it. “I guess this just lifts off, then?” He grasped two handfuls of the robe and began to pull upward.
Until All Curses Are Lifted Page 33
