The Lesser Kindred (ttolk-2)

by Elizabeth Kerner

  His truespeech was like a sword in my mind. That did it.

  "Damn you, Varien," I cried. "What, think you I did that on purpose? I haven't bespoken you so that you wouldn't have to hear it or feel it. Maybe it's good that you have, after all, for the danger is of your making!"

  His face had been flushed with anger before, but now he went pale. "What do you say?" he breathed.

  "Never mind," I murmured. I was ashamed at having said as much as I had, even if I was dying. Especially if I was dying.

  "Tell me, Lanen."

  "No," I said. "Don't make me. It was—what did you call it? Those hidden thoughts?"

  "Terishnakh," he said. "But the terishnakh are dismissed while still in the mind, they do not come to the lips. What do you mean that the danger is of my making?"

  "Let it go!" I cried.

  "What do you mean?" he said, taking me by the shoulders. I shook myself free.

  "It's your child, that's what I mean!" I yelled, and I watched each word strike him like a blow. "It's the blood, yours and mine. Rishkaan was right, Akor!" I cried, and my voice was high and thin with rage and with fear. "We have made a monster between us, and it is going to kill me!"

  Varien stared at me in horror as I fought to take a deep breath, but I was overcome and with that breath I screamed with all my might, straight from the gut. I had never screamed before. It was terrible and it was very loud. It frightened me and it terrified Akor, but at least it broke through the anger between us. He came to me and wrapped his arms about me and held on for dear life while I sobbed my heart out. His tears mingled with mine.

  "I will fight for you, my Lanen." he told me brokenly in truespeech. He could barely speak even with the voice of his mind. "If Death dares come to claim you I will fight him, tooth and claw, unto the ending of my life. For how should I live without you in the world!"

  "Forgive me, my heart, I never meant what I said. I've never been so scared in my life, I'm so frightened. I am not ready to die," I replied, holding him with all my strength.

  We stood in that desperate embrace until, at last, we both grew weary beyond bearing. We lay down, still clasping one another so very close, until from sheer exhaustion I fell asleep in his arms.

  Will

  We slowed when we came to the main corridor that we might not draw attention to ourselves. I collected my cloak and my walking stick as usual, nodding to the young student who was working off some minor misdemeanor by tending the dawn-to-noon shift of All Comers. He yelled to Vilkas and Aral to come talk to him about the tandem work, he had heard all about it and there were no patients, but they declined as they strode past.

  We were out the front door, our main objective thus far, and suddenly my perceptions shifted. Outside seemed terribly exposed. We were not prepared, we had no money, no food, only the clothes on our backs and the stick in my hand.

  I tried to hang back but Vilkas took my arm and pulled me along. He didn't even slow down. I was impressed, for we are of a height but I would make three of him around. We stepped into the courtyard—and there were three horses, saddled and bridled, a clear gift from the Lady. The groom who held them greeted me. "Will! You haven't seen Magis-ter Berys, have you?" he called out. "He sent for these horses an hour gone and he still hasn't come."

  I began to hope. One little falsehood and we would be away, well mounted and far faster than feet could bear us. I was about to answer when Vil replied, speaking in a normal tone as we passed them, "Haven't seen him. Sorry."

  He strode through the main gate, followed by Aral at his heels and me spluttering behind. Once we were out the gate and down the street I tried to stop and talk to Vil, but he still had his hand wrapped around my arm. He was a lot stronger than I'd have guessed, though I wasn't seriously trying to slop him. "We can talk as we go, Will, I don't want to stop for anyone or anything."

  "Then why in Shia's name didn't we just take those horses?" I asked, angry. "A gift from the Lady, plain as plain, and you just walk past—"

  "Too easy, Will!" he growled. "Too damned easy. An hour they'd been waiting. How long has it been since Berys left us, Aral?"

  "About that."

  "He's clever, Will. He's very, very clever, and unless I miss my guess he has had this or something like it planned for quite some time. Well, I'm not an idiot either. I think it's time we weren't quite so obvious." He called his power to him as we walked, and his corona covered us all three. I thought this would be much like trying to hide by carrying a flaming torch at midnight, but no one seemed to notice us.

  I looked at him and spoke very quietly. "Vil, are we invisible? I didn't think that was possible."

  "It isn't and we're not," he said, "but when we pass, we are the least noticeable thing in the world. Even a blade of grass holds more interest than we do. It should slow them down if no one has seen us."

  I was impressed. He was good.

  "We were meant to take those horses, Will. I know it. That would make it so much easier for him—plant something from Erthik or Caillin in a saddlebag, send a demon to track us, a charge of murder"—and for the first time since we had left his chambers, Vilkas faltered in his long stride and the slightest unevenness afflicted his voice, but he looked straight ahead. "Aral—Goddess, did you see her face? Poor Erthik. I cared about her. She believed in us, and I know as if I'd watched her die mat she fell fighting Berys himself."

  I didn't question him. It could only have been the Archim-age. Both of the Magistri had died without a sound a few feet from us, and Erthik was—Erthik had been the most powerful Mage in the College after Berys.

  After Berys.

  Aral said nothing. I turned to look at her and was taken aback at how pale she was. For all that, though, her face was set in an implacable mask. Aral has always been a creature of deep emotions. She had not known Erthik very well, but I had seen the two of mem together on several occasions, and I had seen a true friendship growing there. Erthik had been delighted by their tandem work and had hoped to get them to teach it to others. Now delight, hope, friendship, all, lay dead in a heap outside Vilkas's rooms. I held back the bile that burned the back of my throat.

  We walked on like frightened cats, quickly, every nerve quivering, studiously ignoring the fact that we expected a demon attack any moment. As we passed the last house on the outskirts of Verfaren, however, Aral stopped abruptly and spoke. Her voice was calm and even. She held her right hand up, palm outwards. "I do here speak and swear, my soul to the Lady's right hand, that I shall do all in my power as long as I live to defeat Berys of Verfaren, to oppose him and his works at every turn, and to destroy him should I ever have the chance."

  "I do so swear, my soul to the Lady," said Vilkas without hesitation.

  "That makes three of us," I said, swiftly. "Sworn and witnessed, our souls to the Goddess. Now can we get moving again please?"

  We had turned left when we walked out of the East Gate of the College, so we were on the road going north. "Where are we headed, apart from away?" I asked.

  "I'm open to suggestion," said Vil, striding at a great pace. He lifted one hand to waist level and pointed a skinny finger straight ahead. "That way?"

  Aral had to do twice the work to keep up as her legs were so much shorter, but she seemed accustomed to it. "Known to some as north," she said. "It's a long way to anywhere in this direction, Vil." She gazed over her right shoulder, as if she could see through the little wood we were passing. "Home's that way," she said, longingly.

  "Only your home, and it's hundreds of leagues that way. Be reasonable."

  "You two don't remember much, do you?" I said, trying to keep my voice as even as Vilkas's. I couldn't stop seeing Erthik's face, her brown hair disarrayed—no, I couldn't think of that. "I live no more than a few days' walk from here." I glanced behind us. "It's even closer if you go crosscountry and stay off the roads."

  They were both silent for a moment, though we never slackened our pace and Vilkas's corona still surrounded us. It didn't seem to ti
re him in the least. "You're in it deep enough as it is," said Vil at last. "You don't need to harbour two murderers. And Lady Shia alone knows who or what Berys will send out to find us and fetch us back."

  "He'll start by sending some of the Magistri, and if they can't find us he'll hire mercenaries and pay them for our return dead or alive. That's what you do with murderers," growled Aral. "But my guess is that he'll send demons as soon as the uproar is over. Maybe tonight, maybe any minute now. He had those two he threw at us ready prepared, he must have done, or he'd have needed an altar. I'd guess he must have made some sort of amulet. The spell could take effect long after the summoning was completed, so there would be no evidence of who had done it."

  "Keep your corona about you," said Vilkas. "If I were Berys I'd send a demon the instant I was able to, lest we have the chance to prepare our defence."

  "No, really?" said Aral sarcastically. "You think so? I wondered why I kept glowing bright blue."

  "And as for me, I was there and I saw it all," I said. "I'm your best defence, and I have no way to fight off demons on my own. Besides, if you two think I'm leaving you now you're dafter than I thought. No one knows you were with me at Midwinter Fest, do they?"

  "No," replied Aral immediately. "I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want you being pestered. Or me. People get peculiar."

  Vilkas took longer to consider, but "No," he said finally. "I remember I didn't want my whereabouts known."

  "Hah!" said Aral, showing a glimmer of her usual self. "The Deep and Mysterious Great Mage Vilkas! I know why you never told anyone, it's that Palistra. The golden-haired green-eyed enchantress who's got every lad in the school at her feet except you." I'd never heard Aral so disgusted, "I'd have thought she'd be busy enough with that lot," said Vilkas, genuinely puzzled, and sounding deeply grateful for something trivial to think about. "I never gave her the slightest encouragement."

  Aral managed a small laugh, which under the circumstances was impressive. "Ah, but that's the attraction Vil, don't you see?" she said, pleased despite our plight at being privy to something she knew well neither Vilkas nor I would ever truly comprehend. "I've seen you play Last Man Standing, you should understand the rules. It's the same principle. Without your favour on her sleeve she doesn't have the King. The greatest power to come through the College since Berys the Bastard, keeps to himself, polite but distant, probably doesn't have a lover so still fair game."

  "Probably?"

  "I can't help what other people think. I've never said word to help them," said Aral reasonably. "Didn't you realise that to Palistra's kind of mind you're completely irresistible?"

  "Lady preserve me from that kind of mind, then," he said, shivering, adding a personal comment about Palistra that he would not be proud to have remembered, so I have forgotten it.

  "Whatever the reason," I said, "no one knows you were with me then, so if fortune favours us no one will assume that you have come with me now. There's not a soul at Ver-faren knows where I live save you two. I say we make for Rowanbeck. My cabin isn't fortified but it is well hidden and a long way from the road."

  "I went by the main road with you last time. Is that the fastest way to get there?" asked Aral.

  I managed to smile. "Not even close. Do you know Wolfenden? It's a little town about ten miles north of here."

  "I've been there a few times, but it's been a while," said Vilkas.

  "It's at a crossroads—well, it's where the track joins the road, but it's well marked." I thought for a moment. "Best you should know the way in case we're separated. If you follow the track west into the hills and walk for about three days, you'll come to a great huge green field high in the hills. It sits in a circle of rock walls, you can't see it until you're there. You might have a bit of trouble finding the way in, but now you know it's there you'll find it. Once you're inside you'll be hidden from view. There's a little wood at the western end, and if you go through the wood you'll find the path down the far side. Half a day's walk from there is my village of Rowanbeck. You know how to get to the cabin from there, don't you?"

  "I remember," said Vilkas. "But this is all pointless. What good will it do to hide in the mountains?"

  "It's a useful place to be if no one expects you to be there," I said. "At least you'll have somewhere safe to make your plans."

  "Sounds good enough to me," said Aral wearily.

  "I suppose we might as well be there as anywhere," said Vilkas with a bitter edge to his voice. "We've got nothing better to do." It took me a moment to remember that all that had happened would have an extra dimension for the two of them, beyond even the shock of seeing a friend murdered. No Healer above the third rank could ever be taken seriously without the official seal of the College on his warrant to practice. Vilkas and Aral's futures had come tumbling about their ears this day, all in a matter of hours.

  "It's settled then. But before we take off into the mountains we need to get hold of some food. The Dragon's Head at Wolfenden, at the crossroads: the food's good there, certain sure. That's where we take the road northwest into the hills. We should get there by sunset, and Gair's a good lad, he'll take care of us." The others looked at me strangely. "Gair, the innkeeper. The Dragon's Head. He's a friend of mine. Good lad he is."

  "Then you at least should not be seen," said Vilkas.

  "What?" I said stupidly. "But Gair is a friend of mine, and—he—I don't understand."

  "Will?" said Vilkas, staring at me. I didn't answer. Suddenly everything was terribly confusing. Vilkas stopped then, drawing me into the shelter of a small copse of trees off the main road. Aral came behind me, her hand on my arm. I didn't mind that at all. Vilkas looked brighter all of a sudden, and he and Aral were talking, but I couldn't really hear what they were saying. Suddenly I had to sit down for a moment and I seemed to hit the ground right hard with my backside.

  The next thing I knew I was sitting with my back against a tree and Vilkas was looking at me like I was a stranger—he wasn't catching my eye at all, just staring in my general direction and moving his hands. I felt oddly as if I was asleep, or had been asleep and was only just awakening, as if—

  "Vilkas?" I said, but there was something wrong with my voice. It seemed to be coming from a very long way away. "Aral? Is this a dream?"

  Then Aral was there, putting her arm about me, telling me to be quiet for a moment. She was that close I could smell her, smell the summer-flower scent of her. Dear Lady, so near! I sighed before I could stop myself. "Are you in pain?" she asked me gently, and I was in such a state I nearly told her everything, that the only pain I had was knowing she did not love me, but blessed be the Lady, Vilkas's healing finally took hold. I felt terribly, terribly drunk for just a moment, then it passed and I scrambled to my feet.

  "What in all the Hells—" I began. Vil put a hand on my shoulder.

  "Shock," he said, "nothing more sinister. Aral and I have been protecting ourselves with our power, it's almost instinctive, but we never thought of you. I'm sorry," he said solemnly. I glanced up and caught his eye. He really was deeply ashamed of himself for neglecting me, the poor lad.

  "Well, I should think so," I said gruffly. Vilkas apologising was a new experience. "You didn't have anything else to think about, after all. But as for the Dragon's Head, I don't know how I'm going to keep Gair from seeing me. We're going to need food and a place to sleep tonight. The inn's about three hours' walk from here and you may believe me that there is nowhere else on this road."

  Vilkas got as far as "It might serve, but I have two concerns."

  I was ready to hear them, but the demons attacked just then and I never did.

  Shikrar

  Kedra insisted that I should get some sleep when we had finally sealed all the soulgems in their containers. I had thought I would never sleep again, but I closed my eyes for a mere moment and woke much refreshed later. Kedra was gone, leaving a scrawled "with Mirazhe" in the earth of my chamber. He had built up the fire again before he left.

&n
bsp; I carried the sealed globes containing the soulgems out into the clearing before my chambers, that I might fetch them more easily when the time came—and truth be told, that I might not have to see the Chamber of Souls again, stripped of all that had given it meaning, the empty settings gaping in darkness.

  When I first emerged I had found to my amazement that it was very nearly light. The morning was cold and crisp, and by the time I had carried out the last of the containers it was surprisingly bright for so early in the year. Almost I resented such a contrast to the darkness in my heart, and yet—and yet, it was good. If we must make a new beginning, this was a good day to do it.

  I set out.

  The Summer Field, badly misnamed on this morning of late frost, was full of the Kantri, complaining, confused and annoyed. I noticed to my sorrow that we all fit comfortably there, in a single field. I began to wonder if we might have a fate before us that nothing could turn. Perhaps the time of the Kantri in the world was come to its end and I was fated to see it....

  I shook myself and remembered the words I had so often spoken to my soulfriend Akhor in his youth. Anyone can give up, Akhor. It is as easy as death. But both death and defeat will find us all soon enough. Fight while you can with all your strength, and choose life over death as long as you are able.

  It is simple enough to say such words. It is much harder to act upon them. Still, they served their purpose, for the memory of having said them to Akhor forced me to live up to mem.

  I was preparing to speak when Kedra landed beside me. "Good morrow, Father," he said cheerfully. "How fare you this morning?"

  "Well enough, my son. The sealed casks await those who will carry them. All is prepared."