“No, I—Thank you, we do need your help, I just—”
Tobi loped through the crowd, people scattering before her, and stationed herself at Elkan’s side. His father’s scowl deepened. “What happened to the donkey?”
“I wrote to Mother and told her. Didn’t she…” The man’s expression didn’t change. Elkan swallowed. “It’s a long story. But Tobi’s my familiar now.”
His father shrugged. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend?”
Elkan took a deep breath and nodded at Meira. “This is Master Meira Smithkin Miner. She’s helping us build weapons we hope will let us hold our own against the Ramunnans. Meira, this is my father, Master Adrel Farmerkin Farmer. And my brother, Fibor Farmerkin Farmer, and my uncle, Master Nicham Farmerkin Farmer…”
He went on to name two brothers-in-law, several more uncles, aunts, cousins, and more distant relations. Meira clasped their offered hands, trying to remember the names.
When he reached the end of the cluster of people, Elkan looked around. “Mother didn’t come?”
Adrel shook his head. “She stayed to look after the girls. Tersira’s due with her first any day, and Hanan’s got another coming not long after. And someone’s got to tend the crops, or we’ll lose the harvest.”
“Everyone’s well, I hope? No problems with the pregnancies?” He gulped. “How’s Sairna doing?”
Adrel gave him a cold look. “She stays busy with Dayina and the orchard.”
Hesitantly, Elkan said, “While we were in Ramunna, Josiah—my apprentice, you remember him—worked with Professor Gevan and an apothecary from Giroda named Nalini to develop a treatment for children with diabetes.” At his relatives’ blank looks, he clarified, “What Bethiav had.” He swallowed. “It’s amazingly effective. Children who’d been unconscious for weeks woke up as soon as we injected the insulin into their blood. And it doesn’t require the Mother’s power at all.”
Adrel’s expression hardened as Elkan talked. After he fell silent, Adrel regarded him for a long moment through narrow eyes. When he spoke, his tone was so bleak Meira shivered. “Too little, too late. Like everything you wizards do.”
He turned on his heel and strode away. The rest of Elkan’s relatives shot him uncomfortable looks and turned to follow. Elkan took a few steps after them. “Wait. I’d like to hear more. Was the winter bad? Have you gotten enough rain? How’s Grammi doing? I know she’ll want to hear about—”
Fibor turned back with a stricken look and put a hand on his brother’s arm. “Elkan, I’m so sorry. Grammi died last fall. Mother sent a message.” He bit his lip. “I guess you never got it.”
Elkan stared at him. Tobi pressed against his legs; his fingers dug into her fur. Fibor patted his shoulder awkwardly. “It was very peaceful. One morning she just didn’t wake up.”
Elkan blinked and nodded. “That’s… Thank you for telling me. I just wish… If I’d realized…”
“There’s nothing you could have done. We buried her next to Grampa. I’m sure she’d appreciate it if you say a blessing over her grave next time you visit home.”
“I’ll do that. If I ever—” He clamped his mouth shut.
Fibor squeezed his shoulder and let go. “We’ll be at the camp if you need us. The master watcher in charge said she’d add us to the training schedule.”
“Yes. Good. Tell the others I really am glad you came. We’re going to need all the fighters we can get to win this war.”
“I’ll tell them.” Fibor hurried across the square after the others.
Elkan stared after him. Meira’s heart ached at the naked grief on his face. She kept her voice soft. “I remember you telling me how difficult your father was. Now I see what you mean.”
Elkan squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s never forgiven me for choosing the Wizards’ Guild over the Farmers’ Guild.” His voice shook. “I keep trying to put things right between us, but somehow I always make it worse. The last time I went home my niece died. We should have been able to save her, the signs were there, but I wasn’t paying attention. Father told me to leave and never come back. Not as long as I remain a wizard—” His voice broke.
Meira put her arms around him. Elkan leaned into her embrace. His head dropped to rest on her shoulder. “But he came,” she said softly into his ear, bracing herself to support his weight. “When you called, he answered.”
His voice was muffled against her tunic. She felt its vibrations in his chest. “Only because he doesn’t want Tevenar conquered. Not because it was me asking.”
“But it was you asking, and he didn’t let that stop him.” Meira doubted Elkan fully believed her, but she didn’t press the point. “I’m so sorry about your grandmother.”
He sucked in a ragged breath and let it out in a long sigh. “She lived a long, full life, surrounded by people who loved her. For more than twenty years she’s been half-paralyzed because of a brain seizure. She must be so happy to be able to speak clearly again, to move freely. She probably gave the Mother a good long lecture on everything she thinks could be improved in the world.” He gave a chuckle that was half sob. “I wish I could have talked with her one last time.”
“I know.” Meira smoothed a hand down his hair the way she did for Ravid when he cried. “It’s all right to grieve.”
Elkan nodded against her shoulder. Silent shudders wracked his body. Meira held him tight, wishing there was more she could do. She wondered how long it had been since he’d had someone he could lean on, someone to be strong for him so he could give in, even for a moment, to weakness.
After a while he stilled. Meira grew achingly aware of his body pressed against hers. She knew she should release him, but she couldn’t bear to pull away from his touch. Just a moment longer, a little more…
He raised a hand to stroke her cheek. “Meira,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I want… But I can’t.”
She wouldn’t take advantage of his vulnerability. “It’s all right.” She brushed a strand of hair out of his haggard face. “I’m glad you didn’t have to face the news alone.”
He caught her hand. “If things were different…”
“But they’re not.” She stepped back; her hand slid from his grasp. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”
He pressed his hands to his face, then raked them through his hair. “How can I? We’re in the middle of a war. Everything depends on me. If I give less than everything I have, if I let myself get distracted even a little, it could all end in disaster.” He grinned at her ruefully. “You’re more than a little distraction.”
“I understand.” She savored the confirmation that his seeming indifference had been an act, that in truth he responded to her as deeply as she responded to him. It would have to be enough for now. “Let’s both do everything we can to drive the Ramunnans back across the ocean. After they’re gone, after Tevenar is safe… then we can talk.”
“Even then, everything I told you in Shalinthan will still be true. I’ll always be a wizard before anything else. You deserve someone who can put you first.”
She’d replayed that conversation over and over in her mind, thinking of all the things she wished she’d said, all the ways she could have tried to shake him out of his stubborn certainty that he knew what was best for her. At last she had the chance to use some of them.
“Maybe that’s not what I want.” She lowered her voice. “Maybe I’d like you to share my bed just for the fun of it. There’s no reason it would have to be a lifetime commitment, if that’s something you can’t give.”
He gaped at her. Good, she’d shocked him. He had to blink several times before he could speak. “I could never—”
Of course he couldn’t. Meira doubted such a relationship would satisfy her, either, but he didn’t have to know that. “Is it against the Law?”
“Not really. Not as long as there’s no deception, and the wizard doesn’t use his position to manipulate or coerce.” He swallowed and glanced at Tobi, who was w
atching him with bright eyes and a lolling tongue. “But it’s not something I would want.”
He tried to make his tone firm, but Meira detected a distinct note of uncertainty. Time to solidify her gains. She shrugged. “Think about it.” She glanced across the plaza. “Looks like they’ve started serving. Let’s go eat.”
Elkan looked around. Meira saw the awareness that they still stood in the middle of the crowded plaza dawn in his eyes. He swallowed and dropped a hand to Tobi’s head. “Yes.”
She followed him across the plaza. Many curious eyes followed them. She’d have to spread the story of how he’d received sudden and shocking news of his beloved grandmother’s death and been overcome by grief, and how glad she was she’d been there to comfort him. That should satisfy their curiosity without undermining their faith in his leadership.
As for the rest, she could be patient. Now that she knew for sure he still wanted her, she could wage a slow campaign to wear down his resistance. Elkan gave his heart completely or not at all. If she once managed to slip past his walls and provoke him to lose control of his tightly-restrained desires, he’d be hers forever.
Fifteen
Smash and blast and burn it. Rip, tear, shred, crush, break, shatter, maim, mutilate, annihilate, destroy…
Tobi’s voice broke into Elkan’s mind. Don’t forget blight. Raze, ruin, devastate, obliterate. Should I go on?
Smash it, couldn’t he even swear in peace in the privacy of his own thoughts? No.
Tobi squirmed her large, muscular body between him and the desk, a sweep of her tail scattering the papers he’d been vainly trying to concentrate on. He grunted as she climbed halfway into his lap and rubbed her face against his. Stop it, Tobi. You’re not a housecat. You’re too heavy to— “Argh!” He tried to push her away as her rough tongue left a trail of slobber across his cheek.
Wrestle with me, she begged. You’ve barely played with me at all since we got back to Tevenar.
In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been busy. But Elkan sighed and shoved the chair back before Tobi could knock it over with him still in it. When she got in this mood she wouldn’t take no for an answer. He could spare a few minutes for her favorite game. It’s not like he’d been getting much work done. All right. But only—
The mountain cat lunged. Elkan was used to her tricks; he twisted aside so her momentum sent her sprawling against the wall. She scrambled to her feet and launched herself at him again.
Tobi was much stronger than he was, but occasionally he could get the better of her if he was quick. He tackled her around the neck and threw all his weight to drag her to the ground. She fell on top of him and they rolled over and over together, banging into the desk and chair and wall. For a moment he nearly had her pinned, but she writhed away with a fluid motion.
Before he could brace himself she hurtled into him and knocked him flat. Her huge forepaws pressed his shoulders into the ground. “I yield,” he gasped.
She laughed at him and let him up. He couldn’t help but laugh too as he scrambled to his feet, rubbing a bruise on his hip and a patch of scraped skin on his elbow. Tobi pressed her head into his hand and a warm rush of the Mother’s power swept them away. Better?
She wasn’t just asking about the contusions. Much. Thank you. He righted the chair, sat down, and devoted his attention to giving her a good scratching around the ears.
Her bass purr vibrated his bones. Ooh, that feels good. Now a little lower, to the left… He shifted his fingers obediently. Right there. Ahh.
For several more minutes she enjoyed his petting, then abruptly pulled away. She licked a paw and set about industriously grooming her disheveled fur. You can go back to what you were doing now.
He groaned and went to gather the scattered papers. I’m supposed to be reviewing the Bakers’ Guild’s estimates of how much more flour they’ll need so we can requisition sufficient barley and rye from the farmers and get it ground in time. The farmers insist they’re inflating the numbers. And they want premium prices because there’s so little left from last year’s harvest.
Promise them whatever it takes.
I will, but eventually we’re going to have to pay it back. It won’t do much good to save Tevenar from the Ramunnans if we go bankrupt afterwards. He shuffled the papers into order. This is useless. The Guildmaster of the Bakers’ Guild swears the numbers are accurate. How am I supposed to recognize if he’s lying? I don’t know how much flour goes into a loaf of bread. And any evidence a window might show would take far too much time and energy to locate to be worth the effort. He scowled, picked up a pen, and scrawled his signature in the appropriate place. There. Done.
So you won’t need me to help you come up with any more curses?
Elkan was sure Tobi knew it hadn’t been the paperwork he’d been swearing at, but he also knew what she’d advise him to do, and he didn’t want to hear it. No. Why don’t you go out and hunt? Every time you feed yourself leaves more meat for the rest of us.
Come with me? Her ears perked eagerly, the brown smudge of the Mother’s fingerprint dark against one pink curve.
He would love a good tromp through the woods, but he shook his head. I can’t. Those farmers and herders from Jevtaran are at it again. I have to settle them down.
It’s your loss. See you later. She whisked around and pushed out the door.
Elkan followed her, gave the papers to the master wizard he’d put in charge of supplies, and headed toward the camp. Once Tobi was far enough away her presence faded from his mind, he let his thoughts return to the subject that had consumed him before her distraction.
Smash and burn and blast it…
Meira had propositioned him! How was he supposed to react to that?
There was no way he could accept. Even though he desperately wanted what she offered. Even though Tobi had chuckled and told him to jump at the chance. Even though he knew other wizards sometimes indulged themselves that way. Master Dabiel would probably have told him there was no need to deny himself the ordinary pleasures of life. The Mother herself would smile and tell him to enjoy the wonders of her creation.
But he couldn’t. Not with Meira. Because he wasn’t capable of entering into a physical relationship without giving himself to her, heart and soul. And if he did that, he knew beyond any doubt he’d end up hurting her.
If all she wanted was a casual, temporary dalliance, eventually she’d grow tired of him and want to move on. And he’d never be able to let her go. It would be his marriage to Liand all over again.
His face burned as he remembered how he’d clutched and clung, like a child with a favorite toy, long after Liand had made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with him. How his inability to accept the truth had nearly destroyed them both. How he’d publicly humiliated her in retaliation for the way she’d hurt him. He couldn’t bear to imagine doing something like that to Meira. Yet he couldn’t pretend to believe he wouldn’t, just because he loved her. He’d loved Liand, too, but that hadn’t stopped him.
He wanted to believe he’d learned from the experience. He was seven years older, a master now instead of a callow apprentice. Maybe he’d gained enough wisdom to recognize the signs he’d missed before. Maybe this time he could love without needing to possess, to own, to bind. Without failing to acknowledge when love had lived out its natural span and died, and trying to force life back into a corpse.
Or maybe not. He couldn’t take that gamble. Not when it was Meira who would pay the price if he couldn’t.
If he truly loved Meira, he’d continue to rebuff her advances until eventually she gave up. He’d protect both of them from the pain that would result if he gave in to his desires.
On that bleak resolve he arrived at the camp. Kaniel, one of the wizards from Korisan, burst out of the headquarters tent, his hawk familiar swooping to land on his shoulder. “Thank the Mother, Elkan, you arrived just in time. A few minutes more and Windsong would have had to break our bond to stop me from using the Mother’s
power to knock their stubborn heads together. I hope you can talk some sense into those two fools, because I certainly can’t.”
Elkan swallowed. “I’ll see what I can do.” He wished he hadn’t sent Tobi off. The mountain cat’s presence did a great deal to keep hostilities in check, even if she never did anything but sprawl at his feet and yawn.
Kaniel led him into the tent. The two figures perched on camp stools, studiously ignoring each other, were all too familiar. He dragged up a stool, seated himself, and gestured for Kaniel to leave. “Master Kireh. Master Tian. How can I help you today?”
They both spoke at once. Kireh’s voice was louder and more strident. “Tell him he’s got to control his apprentice!”
Tian scowled at her. “Keep your apprentice away from mine. The boy’s shameless, wizard. This morning I caught him lurking around the privies, trying to get a glimpse of Rovia.”
Kireh half rose. “What about last night? She cornered Dari down by the river, when all he was trying to do was fetch some water. If I hadn’t gone looking for him and stopped them, who knows what would have happened.” She sank back onto her stool at a gesture from Elkan.
“The boy was supposed to stay in Jevtaran. It’s not Rovia’s fault he followed her here. I’m warning you, Kireh, if you don’t deal with him, I will.”
“Are you threatening my son, you worthless—”
Elkan held up his hands. “Quiet!”
They both glared at him.
He pointed at Kireh. “The boy in question is your son and apprentice? Dari is his name?”
She nodded stiffly.
Elkan shifted his attention to Tian. “And the girl is your apprentice, Rovia?”
“Yes. My niece. That farmer brat’s been bothering her—”
Elkan cut him off with a gesture. “I take it neither of you approves of their relationship. Why not?”
They exchanged uneasy glances. Finally Kireh burst out, “She’s a herder! And she’s nearly a year older than he is. I know she’s been pushing him into things he’s not ready for.”
The Wizards' War Page 21
