Shard & Shield

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Shard & Shield Page 8

by Laura VanArendonk Baugh


  “He considered it. But my lady argued you were to be trusted even if I were not. He has withheld judgment for the moment, but he wants to speak with you.”

  “He knows the kingdom needs you,” Ariana tried. “He knows no one else has seen anything. He doesn’t know Tam’s connected to Oniwe. If we can just convince him Tam is harmless—”

  Tam chuckled, his expression oddly inconsistent with his adolescent face. “Harmless?”

  “No,” Ewan said, “think. Shianan Becknam, of all people, cannot afford to overlook a Ryuven. His own position is too… insecure.”

  “Might there be something to justify a mage privately keeping a Ryuven for interrogation or experimentation?” Tam asked, his voice remarkably even.

  Ariana repeated, “Experimentation?”

  “Tam has provided both information and assistance in magical research during his time here,” her father said with a grim smile. “It would be an accurate claim. However, I’m afraid it’s very clear; all Ryuven prisoners are the property of the crown. The crown alone can dispose of them in interrogation, experimentation, or enslavement.”

  “Enslave a Ryuven?”

  “I doubt it’s ever been done—really, I mean, not like our situation. But allowance was made. It would be quite impressive, for example, to host Wakari ambassadors at a feast served by trained Ryuven.” He sighed. “None of this is to our point, though.”

  “You said his lordship’s position is insecure,” Tam said. “Perhaps that is the hinge to our argument.”

  A knock sounded at the front door.

  Ariana twitched in her chair, looking guiltily toward the entry. She fought the clench in her stomach as Tam went to answer it. “Please enter, your lordship.”

  Ariana swallowed and looked at her father, who rose from his chair. She nodded; they would show a perfect hospitality to this commander-count bastard who threatened her family.

  Becknam came inside, pulling his eyes stiffly from the boy to bow to Ewan Hazelrig. “My lord mage. And my lady,” he added, bowing again to Ariana.

  “Your lordship,” Ewan replied with a small bow of his own. “Please come and sit, and we can talk. I am delighted to hear your journey went well. I trust the Shard is safely delivered?”

  Ariana sat, staring at her father’s easy manner.

  “It is,” Becknam answered. “The Circle may begin their work as soon as you like.” He paused, looking rather, Ariana thought spitefully, as if he’d swallowed a fruit pit. “Let’s be frank, if we may, Mage Hazelrig. I have been a soldier longer than a count, and I prefer blunt speech. During our travel it became apparent your servant is actually a concealed Ryuven. I withheld my sword at your daughter’s request, and—”

  “Cheese?” Tam proffered a tray. He had been lightning-fast in the kitchen, and Ariana had not even noticed his reappearance.

  Becknam faltered, open-mouthed. Ariana was too nervous to smile. “No,” Becknam said sharply. “Er—Mage Hazelrig, you can see my position. I am sworn to defend against the Ryuven.”

  “And so you should,” Ewan agreed. “By all means, block any Ryuven threat, and I will be first beside you. But I think you must agree, Tam has posed no threat.”

  “I am not certain the king will see it in the same light.”

  “I have served this kingdom for more than twenty years as elected White Mage by the Circle, and in lower capacities before that. My service and my word have gone unquestioned in that time. I tell you now, your lordship, Tam is no threat.”

  “Your word is not for me to judge,” Becknam answered. “It may be that the Court of the High Star will believe you. But that is their decision.”

  “No!” Ariana cried. “You know what that would be—please consider this!”

  Becknam looked at her. “There is no choice for me. You ask that I refrain for your sake?”

  “No,” Ewan answered before she could. “No, we ask no favors of you, my lord.”

  Becknam looked at him and his expression shifted into a grim, hard smile. “Of course not. No one would entangle himself in obligation to Bailaha; it is perhaps as dangerous as keeping a Ryuven.” He let out a little breath. “I did say we should speak frankly.”

  “I would not have put it so coldly,” Ewan said quietly. Tam set the cheese tray on a table behind him.

  “But we understand one another.” Becknam shifted in his seat. “Then I have no choice but to—”

  Tam darted close and snatched at the knife Becknam wore. He jerked it free and reversed the blade, throwing himself backward from Becknam’s reach as he drove the knife toward his torso—

  Something slammed invisibly into him, lifting him bodily and flinging him to the side. His arms and legs careened as he tried to catch himself before falling hard on the polished floor. The shock of his impact rattled the floor but he had kept his hold on the dagger, and as he tried to lift it Ariana struck him herself, sending a measured bolt of power to knock his hand aside. By then her father had reached him and he tore the blade away, standing over the sprawled boy. “No!”

  “I must,” Tam panted, winded from the arcane blows. “You must let me. The binding will last after my death, I’ll be just a dead slave, and he will have no proof—”

  “Let us all decide that!” Ewan snapped. “At the least I would give you a quick and painless departure, if we even allow you to sacrifice yourself.”

  Becknam was on his feet. “What is he doing?”

  “If I am dead,” Tam said, his eyes wet and blazing, “then it will be only the bastard’s word against that of the White Mage.” He glared a challenge.

  Ariana breathed deep to recover from the quick magic and looked between them.

  Ewan Hazelrig passed the dagger to Becknam. “Keep this safe, if you please.” He sighed and looked from Tam to Becknam. “The binding, as he says, will last through death. With his Ryuven spirit gone, he’ll be just a dead boy. Nothing more.”

  Becknam turned to Tam. “You would kill yourself to protect him?”

  “I would not see him suffer for protecting me,” Tam answered raggedly.

  “Then you have me.” Becknam slammed his dagger into its place. “If this is not a puppet show for my benefit, he has no far-reaching scheme, not if he is willing to die now. And I am not fool enough to accuse the White Mage without evidence.”

  Relief rolled dizzyingly through Ariana. “Oh, thank you! I—”

  He put up a hand to cut her off. “Do not thank me; it is not my decision.” His voice was thick and bitter.

  But, Ariana thought, he also looked faintly relieved. He had not wanted to stand against the White Mage, respected and popular while Becknam was neither.

  Becknam looked hard at Tam, still winded on the floor. His jaw worked. “But I may confess now—I am glad he was with us, when you fell. I never thought I would be grateful for a Ryuven.”

  Tam got to his feet and limped from the room without speaking. Ariana watched him go and then looked at the commander-count. “I am glad too, of course.”

  Ewan returned to his chair. “It was no puppet show, as you say, your lordship. Tam was quite correct in his assessment. I hadn’t expected him to attempt such a thing here and now, though.”

  Becknam shook his head. “He will not interfere in the shield?”

  “My lord, Tam wants the shield nearly as much as you do.”

  Becknam nodded grudgingly. “I have no choice but to accept your assurance,” he said, “but I do believe you.” He looked toward Ariana.

  “Aside from this unfortunate incident,” Ewan Hazelrig began bravely, “how did it go? There were no troubles with the Gehrn?”

  “No,” Ariana said. “They gave it to us with the condition that the high priest perform their yearly rites. And they want a temple-fortress.”

  “I promised them my townhouse,” Becknam said, his voice subdued.

  Ariana’s father looked at him. “I see.”

  Ariana returned to her chair, suddenly exhausted with fear and relief. “I do
n’t like the Gehrn much.”

  Ewan gave a sardonic half-smile. “I didn’t think you would.”

  “They had a slave to serve us,” Ariana said, tightening at the memory. “I did not like to see it.”

  “From the Furmelle revolt,” Becknam supplied.

  Ewan nodded. “They would be strict.”

  Ariana shook her head. “They choked him, Father. It was something they used at Furmelle, his lordship said. It was awful.”

  Ewan sighed. “We have asked for laws, but there is worry profits would suffer….” He rapped his knuckles against the arm of his chair. “While a hundred men may be bought for the price of a horse, there will be slavery, and while men remain men, there will be cruelty.”

  Becknam cleared his throat. “On another subject entirely… My lady, His Majesty has called us tomorrow for personal thanks for our efforts on behalf of the kingdom. Your own invitation should arrive shortly.” He took a breath. “It will look best if…. May I, despite all this recent exchange, escort you to court?”

  She could hardly refuse him now, not when so much depended upon his agreed silence. For all his reluctant cooperation, he had only to convince another mage of the Circle to help uncover Tam. That would be difficult, both in argument and in discovery, but it was a risk to manage. “Yes, of course.”

  Becknam again looked faintly relieved. “Thank you. I will come at half past three.” He bowed. “And now I will beg to excuse myself.”

  “Thank you for your service to the kingdom,” Ewan Hazelrig said, bowing in return.

  Shianan Becknam did not answer, only went to the door and let himself out. Tam had not reappeared.

  Hazelrig sank into his chair. “’Soats, that was trying,” He glanced at Ariana. “Honest fellow, that one. Says what he thinks, or would like to.”

  Ariana frowned. “His lordship doubted my abilities. Because I failed the examination.”

  Ewan shifted. “I want you to take it again.”

  “Of course. But how can I prepare better?”

  “My darling Ariana,” Ewan said, “you need only do again what you did before. Had you been anyone else, you would have made Black Mage the first time.”

  Ariana stared, incredulous. “But—but—Father!”

  “I’m sorry,” he confessed. “But there were two pressing reasons why I could not allow you entrance last time.”

  “Two reasons.” Ariana sat forward. “Tell me.”

  “The first is that you are my daughter, and naturally there is suspicion of preference, a certain advantage. There were some who believed you would be admitted even if your work were inferior. I wanted them to respect you, to believe you had earned your place rather than being granted it.”

  “You failed me for nepotism?”

  “Those who tested you were able to speak of your ability and yet knew I considered you capable of better.”

  Ariana considered the cutting compliment. “And the other?”

  “I needed you to retrieve the Shard.” He turned his palms up. “I did not trust an unqualified mage to go with the commander, and once you were admitted to the Circle you could not leave without drawing undue attention.” He paused. “I have already announced you will be undertaking the examination again next month. I am sorry. I did not wish to make you doubt yourself. But it was for the best.”

  “But won’t everyone say now that I needed two attempts to enter the Circle?”

  Ewan chuckled. “Most need two attempts, many need more. It is nothing.”

  Ariana wasn’t sure what she thought of this. “And if Tam decides to test for the Circle? Would a slave boy with arcane power pass the first time?”

  “Now you’re being petty.” Her father looked at her. “And you’re wrong. The binding limits him to that form precisely; as a boy he is no more than he should be. Only a boy, but one which happens to have the mind and memories of Tamaryl.”

  “And how did that happen?”

  He shook his head. “It is as simple as we’ve said. We met at Luenda, and he did not wish to fight. I did not wish to kill someone who did not wish to fight. We determined that if he were hidden here, he could help me to seek an alternate path for our conflict.”

  “I wish… I wish he’d just gone home.”

  Her father looked at her. “They would have killed him.”

  She shook her head. “You know I didn’t mean that.” She sighed and then yawned. “I need sleep.”

  “It’s not too early. You look tired, and you should be fresh for court tomorrow.”

  It would be her first court appearance. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you failed me even though I deserved better.” She rose and kissed him on the cheek. “But I forgive you for saving Tam’s life and keeping him a secret. I think.”

  “I’ll take that for a start,” he said with a smile. “Good night.”

  Chapter 9

  The market was thick with morning traffic. Ariana passed flower sellers, vegetable hawkers, fruit vendors, butchers with cuts of meat hanging from their carts. Imprisoned ducks and chickens and geese protested from their crates. A slave ran after an escaped lamb; at least the meat was fresh and healthy. Most carts had a slave or two working beside them until it was time to pull the carts home. One had a tacked notice advertising the slave was for sale as well as the vegetables.

  Ariana moved through the crowd, pressed against a pile of gourds while a litter edged by her, and passed into the next section of the market. Here were spices of all varieties and perfumes, oils, infusions, medicines, mingling to confuse the nose. If she continued straight she would find cloth and clothing and then gems and smithing, but she turned to the paper merchants’ row.

  Past the booksellers and stationers stood a shop with a sign in the shape of an open book. The bell over the door jingled as Ariana entered. “Hello, Vaya.”

  The bookbinder tapped at her block to straighten pages and gave a welcoming smile. “Hello, Ariana.” Long friendship had eroded formalities. “Here for business, or to see Ranne?”

  “Just Ranne today, thanks.”

  “Go on back, she’s unpacking. Lady Bethia’s here, too.”

  Ranne was sorting colored papers into a wall of nooks. “Ariana!” She leapt up to greet her. “You’re back! Well, obviously.” She laughed and tucked curly red hair behind her ear.

  “I am. We arrived late yesterday.”

  Lady Bethia waved a greeting from her chair. “Just in time, I suppose?”

  Ranne hopped onto a stool, cradling a sheaf of emerald stock. “So, where were you?”

  Ariana slid onto a scarred wooden counter to face them. “I was on a secret mission, an agent of the kingdom.” She grinned.

  Ranne rolled her eyes.

  “Well, I was an emissary of the council and Circle. I went with Commander Becknam. Bailaha.”

  “Ew.” Bethia screwed up her fine features.

  Ranne gave Ariana a skeptical look. “You were a rogue adventurer with the king’s bastard? Off across the kingdoms to thieve rare gems from the Wakari Coast and inspire ballads in taverns everywhere?”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It would be wrong to steal. We wheedled.” She laughed. “We did, actually. For an article which should help against the Ryuven. It’s not a secret anymore.”

  “Rogue adventurer and heroine,” teased Ranne.

  “That will look good for your examination,” Bethia said. “I suppose that means no more studying?”

  “Don’t be absurd! I want all the help I can get.” Ariana looked at Bethia. “Unless—did you test while I was gone?”

  Bethia shook her head. “No, they’ve been putting me off. Ridiculous excuses. They’re waiting on you, you know.” She smiled crookedly.

  Ariana didn’t have an answer for that.

  “Oh!” Ranne slid off the stool and went to a work table where several half-finished projects were laid out. “Speaking of the Circle…. Customer brought a book for binding, and I thought your father might want to know of it.”
She found the title page and held it up for Ariana: An Accurate Account of the Battle of Pradina and the Repulsion of the Ryuven. “Do you think he’d be interested?”

  “Hm, probably not. Pradina wasn’t that long ago, comparatively, and he’s mostly looking for ancient histories. First sightings and such.”

  “Okay, then. And, I don’t suppose you’d mind taking one back to the Wheel with you?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  Ranne displayed a finished book with the emerald-toned cover open to show the title, Arcane Botanies of the Continent.

  Ariana hesitated. “Er….”

  Ranne laughed. “It’s okay. I don’t think he’s paid yet, so I suppose I can’t send it with you. Maybe I can arrange to be busy so Mama has to deal with him.”

  Ariana nodded. “He is a bit….”

  “Creepy. That’s the word you’re looking for.” Ranne mimed a shudder. “They should have passed you into the Circle just to move him to a different color. That man doesn’t need black robes for effect.”

  Ariana made a show of setting her jaw determinedly. “I’ll push him to Indigo yet.”

  “Good! I know you’ll make it this time.”

  Bethia spoke up. “I could take it to the Wheel, Ranne. It’s not out of my way, either.”

  Ranne gave her an apologetic look. “I just thought, you know, Ariana might be going to see her father.”

  Ariana stepped in quickly. “Are we still on for studying, then?”

  “Certainly,” Bethia answered.

  “Good.” Ariana paused. “Um, I’m appearing in court this afternoon. What would be most appropriate to wear?”

  Bethia pursed her lips. “Pastels are very fashionable at the moment, but I don’t think they suit you that well. Something else will.” She rose and took a few papers from Ranne’s stock, holding one after the other beside Ariana’s jaw. “Color is more important than cut, for a day audience….” Bethia had flawless skin like dark honey, with thick dark hair to frame her face, and privately Ariana thought her the most beautiful girl she knew. As a duke’s daughter she had ample practice in dressing for it.

  Ranne extended the emerald paper. “Can she wear a dark green?”

 

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