by Ann Lawrence
“That’s not quite true,” Lien said. “I assume this Vial of Seduction means something to Tolemac or it wouldn’t have been locked away in a vault. Let’s get outside.”
He led them into the courtyard and crouched down by the sundial. The day was marked off in the same twelve-hour increments as at home. “Ardra has only so much time to find the vial. If she fails, Samoht wins her fortress. But that doesn’t solve his problem. The Vial of Seduction will still be missing. If I read him right, he’s going to drag his feet and hamper your quest until the eight days are over…then—”
Nilrem finished for him. “Then his men will draw their swords, as will Ralen’s, and they will take this fortress down, stone by stone.”
“Is that what you think too, Lien?” Ardra asked.
“Pretty much. Can’t you feel the tension among the men? They’re only kept in line by Samoht’s orders, I’ll bet. Cidre doesn’t have that many guards. She’s pretty unprotected, if you ask me.”
“I had not expected violence,” Ardra said.
“Well, think about it.” He stood up. “So, Nilrem, what does a Vial of Seduction look like anyway?”
“It is most unexceptional in appearance. A thick brown bottle, made of a soft stone, not glass as some vials are. The potion, which some consider a spice, looks a bit like dirt.”
Lien took Nilrem’s arm. “Come on, Ardra, let’s walk. I want to check out the territory. And isn’t that a little door over there? Let’s see where it leads.”
“Excellent proposal, pilgrim. We also do not want to draw too much attention to ourselves. We look like we are having a meeting.”
Ardra walked a bit ahead of them. They left the fortress through the small door. It opened into an orchard redolent with the scent of apples. Lien picked one up from the ground. It was smaller than those he was used to, and when he bit into it, less juicy. But it was still an apple. He never thought he’d admit it, being a pizza and burger kind of guy, but he missed the green stuff.
Nilrem also picked up an apple and munched away, talking of the weather. Lien dodged apple spit as he talked.
Ardra finally halted by a carved wooden seat. Nilrem sank down on it and scratched his belly. She was seething with something, Lien could tell. It soon popped out.
“Nilrem. How dare you create these…these treasures. If you had not concocted this potion, none of this would be happening. My son would be safe.” Tears glittered in her eyes.
Lien wanted to take her in his arms, but he could see a woman picking apples a few rows of trees away.
“I did not concoct the treasures, Ardra. I found them. Each one comes from one of the eight chiefdoms. They ancient treasures, created in ancient days.”
“Ancient! That is just a way of making something seem sacred to fools. Well, I am not a fool. It is evil to seduce someone against his or her will. Evil.”
Nilrem patted the wooden bench beside him. “Sit, Ardra. I will tell you a story.”
“Nay. I have no time for stories.” She looked off to the horizon, and Lien knew she was thinking of home and her child.
“This one you will.”
Ardra perched on the edge of the bench. “When I was a youth, I traveled about the chiefdoms, always wandering. Each chiefdom had its fantastic tales of treasures and mysteries. But each treasure also caused great grief—”
“And continues to do so.”
“Aye.” He patted her hand. “So I collected them and buried them. But eventually they were returned to the council, and I thought it right and proper at the time. I still do. Who was I to bury them? Who was I to take them in the first place? I felt comfortable that they were in the Tolemac vaults, heavily guarded.”
Lien watched the slow progress of the young woman who wandered through the orchard. “See that girl there?” They turned. The girl seemed to inspect each individual apple before plucking it from a tree. Was she really so fussy or was she watching them? “I think Cidre put us to sleep to protect her. She was being reprimanded that night for wandering off. Cidre seemed to be very concerned our men not see her.”
As if to confirm what he’d said, a boy ran through the trees, took the young girl by the arm and tugged her away to the fortress door.
“She is lovely,” Nilrem said.
Ardra tapped her foot impatiently on the ground. “Lien. Nilrem. You must concentrate on the vial. Cidre may find a way to use it. She may trick some honorable person. At least we know Samoht will not be able to use the potion if we find it.”
“Yeah, explain to me how that works.” Lien sat on the ground and stretched out his legs. He craved a long run on a hot beach.
“One of the reasons the treasures cause so much trouble is they can only be used by an honorable person. In the case of the Vial of Seduction, I suspect honor also implies a state of innocence.”
“You’re saying that even if Samoht gets the potion, he knows he can’t use it. He’ll just have to lock it up again.”
“Aye, but I believe the council will look most favorably upon their leader if he returns the treasure himself.”
Lien said, “And who will know if he used just a bit of the powder before returning it to Tolemac.”
Nilrem nodded. “But unless he can find a way around the honor bit, he is stuck.”
Ardra began to laugh. She rocked back and forth.
“What’s so funny?” Lien asked.
Nilrem lifted a shaggy gray brow.
“Do you not see?” Ardra asked. “I have been wondering who stole the treasure from the vaults. It had to be someone who had access. A councilor only. One of the very men who challenged me to find it.
“And I assumed the man sold it to the goddess to make a comfortable life for himself. Now I learn the potion must be administered by an honorable person, perhaps an innocent one as well.” She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Here we sit in the orchard of the goddess, the most dishonorable woman alive. Why would she want the potion? She, of all people, could never use it.”
Lien frowned. “Unless she has discovered a way around the honor bit.”
Nilrem sighed. “I pray you are wrong, pilgrim. This was the one treasure I worried about most if it fell into the hands of the wrong person.”
“Great.” Lien shook his head. “Okay. Here’s another wrinkle. Let’s say some councilor saw a way to get some power if he could seduce a woman or even a man. He stole the vial, but couldn’t figure out how to use it, ‘cause just by stealing it he proved he’s dishonorable. Right so far?”
Ardra and Nilrem nodded.
“So the councilor trades or sells the potion to the goddess for a quick buck—”
“A councilor would not sell a treasure for a buck. Not even the white hart,” Ardra said.
“Okay, Ardra. The councilor sells it to the goddess for some gold. She wants it because she’s learned a way around the honor thing. Maybe she could get a child to give it to someone—”
“A child? Not a seduction potion. What man would take a love potion from a child? Nilrem.” Ardra turned to the old man. “We must inspect Cidre’s herbarium. Will you take me through it?”
“Me?” The old man drew back. “I have no wish to tempt evil. You will have to find another way to search her space.”
“You disappoint me,” Ardra said.
“What I want to know is why the goddess wants the potion?” Lien asked, hoping to ease the tension between the two. He’d persuade the old man sometime when Ardra wasn’t around. “What is Cidre missing in her life?”
Nilrem rose to his feet. “That I am happy to answer. Cidre is young and beautiful; she has no daughter. Her consort is old. I will wager she has chosen another. And he is unwilling.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Who’s that?” Lien stood up and pointed through the apple trees toward the lake.
“Travelers? Your eyes are better than mine, young Lien,” Nilrem said.
“Maybe. Men. Walking.”
“Let us see,” Nilrem sai
d.
As Lien and Ardra followed in Nilrem’s wake, Lien thought the wiseman pretty chipper for an old guy.
On the path that edged the lake, a small party of men could be seen. Swirls of dust wreathed their feet.
Lien shaded his eyes to see better and thought of another thing he missed—sunglasses. The group became visible as five men. They wore long robes like Nilrem’s, but unlike the wiseman, they were young and healthy-looking.
“Interesting,” Nilrem said. “We travel to a fortress that I imagine receives few visitors, and now we find more on our tail.”
They returned to the hall, and Nilrem informed Cidre she had guests. It was an unnecessary announcement, as guards were rushing across the courtyard to greet the party.
Ralen rose and walked to Ollach, “Remain with Ardra.”
Ollach stood behind her, one hand on his sword hilt, the other on a rather long dagger in his belt. Lien felt a bit useless but hung around anyway.
The visitors were deemed harmless, Lien supposed, because they were escorted to where Cidre sat. She had moved to a chair between two guards, tall men that Lien had to look at twice to be sure they weren’t twins. Frick und Frack, he had dubbed them.
The visitors turned out to be pilgrims. Lien swallowed a chuckle.
“I bid you welcome,” Cidre said. She did not rise or do the curtsey thing.
The pilgrims all bowed to her. They wore long, scratchy robes similar to the one Lien had first worn.
The leader was tall and reed-thin, with a pointy chin. His friends were also thin, except for one short man, the shortest Lien had seen so far in Tolemac. The other three pilgrims were so nondescript that he would not be able to pick them out in a crowd later, he thought.
“We wish to trespass on your hospitality. Our supplies are low, and it is our hope you might spare us some apples from your orchard,” the leader said.
Cidre smiled. “You may pick all you can carry.” She signaled to the child in yellow. “Tell the kitchen to give these pilgrims some of our fresh bread.” She addressed the pilgrims again. “My fortress is known for its bread,” she said.
Watch out for the surprise ingredient, Lien wanted to say.
“You are too kind.” The pilgrims all bowed an excessive six or seven times. Maybe they’d heard the evil-goddess rumors on their travels.
“We have a pilgrim with us,” Samoht said, and everyone looked in Lien’s direction.
Damn.
The five men pivoted with the rest and peered about the hall.
“Lien, come forward,” Samoht said. Lien couldn’t refuse, though he hated to leave Ardra’s side. He worked his way to the fore of the crowd and bowed to the visitors.
The pilgrims looked him over as if it were he who smelled like a stable, not them.
“You are garbed as a warrior. Lien, is it?” the tall one said. His nose was as pointed as his chin.
Lien nodded. He thought he should say as little as possible.
Nilrem poked his own sharp nose into the conversation. He tapped his stick on the ground for attention. “Lien was set upon by outcasts and nearly killed. His robes were stolen.”
Yeah, my wealthy non-pilgrim robes, damn it.
“Ah,” the leader said, and his cronies nodded in unison. “Then you are in luck. Lak, have I not an extra robe in my satchel?”
“Why, of course!” One of the nondescript three rooted in a pack and drew out a robe that looked none too clean.
Samoht hooked it from the man’s fist. “This is most kind of you. Here, Lien, put this on that you might be once again recognized by all as a pilgrim.”
Go to hell, Lien thought, but he took the robe. It was heavier than the one Nilrem had given him and had a deep hood. It was still a rough garment.
“I have a most wonderful thought,” Samoht said. “Why do you not join these men and continue your pilgrimage?”
Lien felt all eyes on him. He could feel Ardra’s drilling into his back.
Cidre rose from her seat. “I think Lien is needed here.”
“How?” Samoht whirled around to face her.
“Nilrem,” Cidre said. “Did you not tell me Lien saved Ardra’s life? Did you not say he was bound to her until she returned the favor?”
“Aye, that I did,” Nilrem said.
The child staggered back down the hall with a bread basket almost larger than she was. All but the sharp-nosed pilgrim fell upon the basket, stuffing the bread into their satchels.
Ardra maneuvered past Ollach and pulled the robe from Lien’s arms. “I think Lien should stay right where he is. In truth, he saved my life three times, not just once.”
Ralen, who had said nothing, pushed through the group and stood by Cidre’s chair. “Why do you argue over him like dogs with a bone? He has a voice. Let him make the choice.”
Everyone fell silent. Lien scanned their faces. Here was his opportunity to leave, to slip the noose of responsibility that Ardra was pulling tight around his neck.
If he stayed, he would have to help Ardra. If he left, he would probably never see her again.
Cidre answered for him. “Why not rest here for the day, pilgrims? I have a special feast planned and would be disappointed if any of you missed it. Lien can leave with you on the sunrising if that be his choice.”
“Thank you,” Lien said to Cidre. “I’ll decide after the feast.”
Ardra endured a few hours in the hall, listening to the didactic pilgrims. She noticed that Einalem had slipped away, but Lien sat with Cidre, listening carefully to the visitors.
He would leave.
She knew it. He would leave at the sunrising, garbed in rough wool, and she would never know…know what? How he felt about her? Where he had gone?
It would be obvious that he felt nothing if he left her. And his reluctance to look at her, even to turn his dark eyes in her direction, told her he would go.
It was as plain as the nose on her face, as the wiseman said. How disappointed she was in Nilrem. Of course he was not a warrior, but she had expected greater valor in the matter of searching Cidre’s herbarium.
She thought of a person who could visit the herbarium without suspicion. Einalem.
Ardra walked past some of Ralen’s men. One of them made a remark about old men needing the mating dancer, to service their young women.
She turned around. “You will keep a respectful tongue in your mouth. I imagine the goddess would take offense at that remark.”
The man bowed and had the grace to look ashamed—and afraid. Although Ardra knew he had made the remark for her benefit, it suited the goddess’s circumstances as well.
Ardra mounted the stairs to the gallery of bedchambers. The disrespect of the warriors would only grow worse the longer Samoht withheld her power. Four days left.
A serving woman pointed out Einalem’s chamber. The door was slightly open. Ardra pushed it, took one look inside, then jumped back and eased it closed. She darted into her own chamber and sat on her bed couch with a thump. Her heart raced. Never in all her days would she eradicate from her mind what she had just seen. Never.
Ardra licked her lips.
Deleh opened the chamber door. “Ah, there you are. Ollach said you were most likely here.” Deleh dropped her cloak over a bench and knelt by Ardra. “What is wrong, child?”
“I have seen something I cannot believe.”
“Tell me.”
“I cannot!” Ardra shot to her feet. She fanned her face with her hands. “Is it not hot in here?”
“You do not trust me, do you?” Tears welled in Deleh’s eyes. “I am naught but a useless old woman.”
Ardra sighed. She picked up Deleh’s cloak and carefully hung it on a peg by the door. “You are not useless.” She handed Deleh a linen towel and bade her wipe her eyes. “I will tell you what I have seen, but you must never speak of this, do you understand me? Never. This is not kitchen gossip.”
“I swear by Tol’s head.”
“Oh, swear not by Tol. It is
not that kind of matter. Nay, swear that if you speak of this, you will have to plait my hair each time I demand it—for a full conjunction.”
Deleh grimaced, but swore.
Ardra snatched up a pair of tongs and poked the coals in the brazier so that she need not look at Deleh while she spoke.
“I opened Einalem’s door just now, and Ralen was with her.”
“Everyone knows Einalem services Ralen.”
“I believe I understand that now, but, Deleh, what I saw was not mating.”
“No?”
Ardra poked the coals with great vigor. “Einalem was on her knees before him and she was—”
“Feasting on his manhood?” Deleh asked.
“Deleh!”
“Ralen told Tol she was quite talented in the art.”
“Art?” Ardra dropped the tongs on the floor with a clatter.
“Ardra, sit.” Deleh pulled her to the bed couch and held her hand. “Pleasing a lover is an art. There are so many ways to enjoy the pleasures of the bed. I am disappointed that you do not understand this. Tol and I thought you had surely taken at least one lover.”
“You may have lived among the Selaw for more than three conjunctions, Deleh, but you know so little of our people. A Selaw woman may not take a lover. The women of other chiefdoms might, but a Selaw woman will be cast on the ice if she dishonors her mate.”
“You were far too beloved to be cast on the ice. You deprived yourself for nothing.”
“And you must understand that there is a world beneath the one which a man or woman from Tolemac can see. It is the miners’ world. The women can be merciless if someone they respect is dishonored, and though Tol was not one of them, they respected him as if he were.”
“So, you had no lovers.” Deleh patted Ardra’s hand. “Tol would have been sad for you. He thought you and Ollach were close. The man is so attentive to your needs.”
“Ollach!” Ardra screeched and clapped her hands over her face. “Say no more!”
“I will say but one more thing. Take a lover, but be sure it is not Lien.”
Ardra raised her head. “Why not Lien?”
“He is wanted by another.”