“Sweet Holy One,” breathed Ariana. She swallowed and looked away. “How could he?”
Becknam shook his head. “Do not speak ill of the king. Especially not so near to me.”
“My—Shianan,” she amended, trying his name. “Come with me.” They left the green and she led him toward her house, away from the palace.
He made a valiant effort to recover the conversation. “So, what of you? Now that you’re the Black Mage?”
“Now I’m part of the Circle, I may practice my own research.” She executed a little swagger. “And I shall become the greatest and most famous mage of my day, of course.”
“Going to replace your father, eh?”
“He’d be proud.” She pretended to frown. “But there’s Mage Parma to consider…. Perhaps she can have the white robes, and I’ll settle for silver.”
“What, can’t you take her in a fair fight?”
Ariana barked a little laugh. “Doubtful. Father says he’s the White only because she doesn’t want the paperwork, and I’m never quite sure if he’s joking.”
They skirted the overflowing market, ignoring playing children and vendors’ booths until a voice came out of the crowd. “You, sir! Yes, you, my lord! You look like a man of skill. Win your lady a prize!”
Shianan looked at the game, a simple enough challenge of throwing weighted balls into stacked cans. Then he looked at Ariana, who smiled encouragingly. “Why not?”
Shianan turned back and placed a copper coin on the gamer’s table in exchange for three balls. Shianan hoisted the first and then set it gently on the table, catching it as it rolled. “The weight is uneven.”
The gamer grinned. “If you know that, nothing’s unfair. You seem a man with enough skill to compensate.”
Shianan eyed the first trio of cans and threw the ball. The stack wobbled but did not spill. “A little more the next time,” said the gamer.
Shianan threw again. This time two of the cans fell; the third rocked but remained upright. “Almost,” said the gamer. “But you have to take down the full trio at once to win a prize.”
“Hmm.” Shianan nodded toward the next stack. “Then I’ll turn my attention there.” He measured the distance with his eyes and then threw hard. The three cans toppled noisily.
“There you go!” the gamer said.
Ariana clapped. “Yes! Well done!”
Shianan gave her a sharp look, and she faltered. The gamer produced a flower, only a little wilted. “One stack earns a flower. Three stacks earn a silver coin in return for your copper. Try again?”
“No, thank you,” Shianan said. He turned and proffered the flower to Ariana with a tiny bow. “Sunshine on flowers,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it. “But, when I said—I wasn’t trying to—”
“I know,” he said, walking without looking at her. “You said it in the same way you thank Tam for serving and compliment a landlord on his food.” He paused. “Where are we going?”
“My home,” she said. “I thought you could stay for supper. Mother Harriet always has more than enough.”
“Anything prepared by a Mother Harriet must be better than what will be served to the soldiers,” he said. “Yes, thank you.”
Chapter 14
Ranne opened the door before Ariana could knock. “Well?” she pressed, grasping for Ariana’s hands. “How did it go?”
Ariana shook out the bundle under her arm, and the black robe draped to the floor. “Black Mage!”
Ranne squealed and flung her arms about Ariana. “I knew it! I knew you would make it! Come in. Bethia’s not here yet.”
Ariana wasn’t surprised Bethia was late. With Ariana’s appointment, the Circle was full, and Bethia would not be able to test.
“You know she tried for the Circle?” Ranne nearly whispered.
Ariana hadn’t. “No, I didn’t.”
“She didn’t want to tell you she’d failed. I only know because she told me she had gotten a hearing for her attempt.”
“And it didn’t go well?”
“She didn’t want to talk about it.”
Ariana’s chest tightened. “Maybe I shouldn’t….”
“Yes, you should,” Ranne interrupted. “You worked hard and you earned this. She’s your friend, and she’ll be happy for you.”
Ariana wasn’t so sure.
Ranne must have seen it on her face. “You’d be happy for her, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course I would! I was happy for her, when she became a grey mage before I did!”
“See?”
There was a knock at the door behind them, and Ranne turned back to open it to Bethia. She stood on the threshold and extended an armful of flowers to Ariana. “These are for you,” she said. “I thought they could be congratulatory if you passed and conciliatory if you didn’t. But given the glee on Ranne’s face, I suppose you passed. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Ariana said. “Come in, come in! Ranne made us cheese and onion soup.”
Ranne looked at her. “That was supposed to be a surprise!”
Ariana grinned. “Then you should have kept the scent in the kitchen.”
They ate with Ranne’s mother Vaya, who enthusiastically praised Ariana’s achievement, and then settled about the fire with a bowlful of nuts and a nutcracker. “I’m sorry for these,” Ranne said, scowling at the nuts. “It’s too early in the season still. If you’d tested two or three weeks later, I could have bought some decent ones in the market and candied them.”
Ariana laughed. “I don’t think I could have waited another two weeks. I was nearly frantic as it was.”
“And now you can relax and enjoy your success!”
“Oh, no.” Ariana shook her head and drew her feet up on the cushion. “These mages are so talented, so far ahead of me…. Some of them fought at Luenda. How can I work alongside them? What if we go to battle and I can’t hold up my magic alongside theirs? What must they think of me?”
“Well, obviously some of them think you should be part of the Circle,” Ranne answered patiently. “Which is why they invited you to join.”
“But what happens when they find out I’m not extraordinary like them? That I’m just me?”
Bethia laughed. “You’re worrying over nothing. Your father is one of them.”
Ariana gave her a level stare. “My father fought at Luenda with some of these people. My father is the White Mage of the Great Circle. That’s not helping me to feel any less pressure.” She gestured in frustration. “And the Silver Mage? Elysia Parma? You can’t say you wouldn’t be intimidated at the possibility of letting her down.”
Bethia nodded seriously. “Yes, I’ll grant you that one. Forget the rest of the Circle, she’s intense.”
“And the Indigo,” Ranne said. “Forget the rest of the Circle, he’s enough to terrify me.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t forget the rest of them,” Ariana said. “I have to work with them, Silver and Indigo and everyone in between. I’m going to gnaw all the nails off my fingers.”
“Well, it seems like a nice problem to have,” Bethia said, reaching for the bowl of nuts and the cracker.
The words pierced Ariana. “I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it. She hadn’t meant to leave her friend behind. But at the same time, she was hurt. Yes, her worries came out of achievement, but they were still worries, and she wanted her friends’ support.
Ranne sat forward, catching Ariana’s eye. “We’re both very proud of you. You worked hard for this.”
Bethia glanced at Ariana and then back at the nuts.
“Thanks,” Ariana said. “But we don’t have to talk about me all night.”
“Then I have a change of topic.” Bethia rose and retrieved a paper package tied up with string. “I have something to share as well,” she said, setting it on a table, “and I brought cakes to celebrate.” She pulled apart the string and revealed a cluster of fried dough balls, glazed in honey.
“
Oh, I love these!” exclaimed Ranne. “What’s the cause?”
Bethia leaned forward, looking between them. “You’re the first to hear,” she said. “It has to stay a secret for now.”
“Of course,” Ariana said, propping her elbows on her knees to listen. “Our secret.”
Bethia bit her lip, grinning giddily wide, and stretched her hands to each of them. “I’m going to marry Prince Soren.”
Ariana’s jaw dropped. “What? Really?”
Bethia nodded. “They’ve been negotiating with my parents. We’re not to announce it yet, but of course I had to tell the two of you. But remember, you’re sworn to secrecy!”
Ranne leapt up and embraced Bethia. “Oh, I’m so happy for you! A princess, a real princess!”
“Mother thinks they want to dangle the prince-heir as bait for a treaty with the Wakari Coast, but of course they won’t make any promises there. He’s going to wed me. Perhaps as soon as next year, if all goes well!”
They tore apart the honeyed dough.
“And when will we have news about you and young Kudo?” Bethia asked, eying Ranne pointedly.
“Shh!” Ranne made a flattening motion with her hands. “You can’t talk about him!”
“I know how to keep a secret,” Bethia assured her. “Even a juicy one like a baron’s son going down to market to visit a girl.”
Ranne made a face at her. “Fine words from a duke’s daughter in the same market.”
“But not to wed,” Bethia corrected with a smile and a wagging finger.
“We’re not marrying.” Ranne’s cheeks were brightening. “We aren’t even walking out together where we can be seen. His father can’t know about us.”
Bethia took another piece of dough and sat back. “We’ll see.”
“How does he find an excuse to come so often?” Ariana asked.
Ranne grinned. “He buys a lot of books,” she said, “which need binding. A lot of books. He’s a favorite customer in the market.”
Bethia was the first to leave. Ariana stretched and said she should go, too, as she had to claim her office and workroom the next morning.
Ranne caught her arm. “Don’t worry about Bethia,” she said. “She’s happy for you. She’s your friend.”
Ariana smiled. “I know.”
“And she won’t miss the Circle much, not like you’d miss it. She barely works as a grey mage now. You’d die without your magic.”
“Well, it’s not as if she’ll need to be a grey mage,” Ariana said. “Not if she’s going to marry the prince-heir.”
“See? Everything is working out,” Ranne said. “Now go home, get some sleep, and go to the Wheel tomorrow as if you’re claiming spoils. Because you are.”
Ariana laughed. “Thanks. For everything.”
Chapter 15
Torg took a deliberate, steadying breath. The reply to his letter had been cordial enough: Come and look over the position, and then you may accept or return to your current post. It was as if Shianan Becknam knew Torg’s fears and meant to allay them.
The door was not quite closed. Torg entered the office.
No one sat at the paper-littered desk inside. He looked about the room—small, no more luxurious than his own, lined with cubbyholes of rolled maps, a few treatises on the Ryuven, a box of dispatches. There was no Shianan Becknam.
Torg shifted uneasily. What was this?
Then the side door opened, and Shianan entered, looking uncomfortable. “Captain Torg.”
“Commander Becknam—your lordship.” He had not changed much in the intervening years. He looked only a little older, more of a man, one who had seen battles both with sharpened weapons and barbed words.
Shianan exhaled in a sharp little puff of breath. “I’m sorry to make you wait, sir. I was—a moment.” He did not sit but looked past Torg to the map pinned to the wall. “What can I do for you?” He paused. “You had some questions regarding the post here.”
Torg was not accustomed to seeing his commanding officers stand in their own offices. He was not accustomed to seeing a boy he’d raised stand as his commanding officer. “I’m honored you thought of me, sir. I know there are many qualified men.”
“And you want to know why I chose you?”
“Yes, sir.” Torg gambled. “And why you gave me a choice.”
Shianan moved across the room. “I thought of you because you are, generally speaking, a fine officer. You think clearly and decisively, and in trying situations you never give your men a moment to question.” He turned and started back toward Torg. “You also make the effort to know each man in your command, at least something of him.” He glanced at Torg briefly and then turned back, pacing again toward the far wall. “And I give you leave to choose because—because you were forced into association with a troublesome person once before, and I believe you suffered for it. Thirty years is a long time to spend in the hinterlands.” He faced Torg. “I would not force that upon you again.”
Was it possible he held no grudge? Torg swallowed. “Sir, I—if you believe that—”
“Captain Torg, I was given into your keeping at the age of four. Since that time you have received no promotion, no increase in pay, no transfer to a less remote post. Keeping me ended your career, reduced you to a figure to be swept aside and hidden in dishonor.” Shianan hesitated, perhaps a little startled by his frank speech. “I do not pretend to offer you this post as payment; there is no promotion in rank and the difference in wages is hardly worth mention. I only thought your skills could be of use here.” He looked fixedly at the maps. “But if you prefer to be prudent, the choice is yours to make. There are, as you say, other qualified men.”
Sweet Holy One, it was Shianan asking for his grace, thinking he had done Torg wrong. Torg tried to gather himself. “May I speak candidly, sir?”
Shianan nodded once.
“To tell the truth, sir, I had thought—I thought perhaps it was you who might have—felt cautious regarding me. That is, I mean—four is young to be placed in an outpost, and I know it was hard….” He faltered, unable to speak without saying something dangerous.
Shianan looked at him. “You thought I resented you?” He shook his head. “Captain Torg, sir, I won’t deny there were moments when I hated you. But there were other moments…. In the end, it is you who could be said to have raised me. I am sorry for the trouble I caused you, however unintentional on my part.”
Torg’s blood thinned to water. “Sir….”
Shianan straightened. “Captain Torg, will you serve here or at your present post?”
To be in Alham again, in civilization—to break the unending cycle of his outpost and its promise of eternal obscurity, of endless punishment for following his orders—to serve within the gaze of his superiors, who might advance him yet again before his retirement—and now assured that Shianan did not despise him for his role—it was a gamble, a potentially dangerous gamble, but it would be worth the escape. “Sir, it would be an honor to serve beneath you.”
Shianan’s jaw twitched. “I can promise you nothing. I am not popular in Alham.”
“I do not fear opinion.” If Shianan were in immediate danger, he would not have risen to commander and been made a count. It was safe to serve him for a time.
“Thank you, Captain Torg.” Shianan went to his desk and opened a drawer. “Here are the orders necessary for your transfer. Please make arrangements as soon as possible, and your new office and quarters will be waiting.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Torg, taking the orders smartly and saluting with his arm across his chest. He turned and left the office, closing the door behind him.
That had not been what he had imagined all these years. The boy had not grown to hate him, after all. It was unexpected. But if there were a chance he could rise under the bastard, he should take it. He would have no other chances.
Of course, some might be suspicious of anyone seen as loyal to the bastard. He would have to speak carefully, let a few deliberate st
atements be overheard. But he was glad of Shianan; he had liked the boy, after all, and liked the man he’d become.
Shianan dropped into his chair, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. It was done, and it had been no more difficult than expected.
Torg had been wary, of course. Shianan had been responsible for the destruction of any hopes for advancement. But he had agreed to come to Alham anyway.
Shianan straightened and pushed a hand through his hair. He should finish here, as he was to meet Ariana at the Wheel for a walk to her house and then supper. It would be welcome respite after the strain of anticipating Torg’s arrival. Ariana’s simplistic outlook was—
No, that wasn’t right. She wasn’t simple, of course; she was actually quite clever. It was only that she was so… different. Shianan was a soldier working among soldiers, and he saw things as they were. Ariana Hazelrig, younger in both years and experience, saw things as they should be. If the White Mage had concealed a Ryuven in the very heart of Alham but meant no harm, it wasn’t treason, and so Shianan shouldn’t be harmed by his knowledge of it. It was pure fancy, of course, but gritty reality was hard for her to grasp.
She was disturbed anew by the Gehrn, for example. Flamen Ande had brought the dark-haired slave when he arrived yesterday to inspect the townhouse and perform the Shard ritual, and while Ariana had said nothing, Shianan had seen her eyes dark with disapproval.
At least they would be finished soon. While the Gehrn had title to the townhouse, Flamen Ande himself would return to the citadel in Davan and send minor members of the order to their newest hold. Then Ande would be gone, and Shianan wouldn’t have to recall Ariana’s horrified, accusing eyes as the slave choked and coughed.
Enough; he was going to the Hazelrigs’ tonight, and he should be thinking of more than Flamen Ande. He rose and tugged his clothing straight as he started for the door.
Chapter 16
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