As they passed through the Temple Gate and started up the hill, Vatar said, “Orleus, I noticed that you didn’t mention that Father will be at the farm for seventh-day dinner, too.”
“Miceus might not have come. Mother’s filled his head with lies about Father. He and Selena are my younger sister and brother—Boreala’s and mine. Full siblings. When Father left Mother, he took Boreala and me with him. He made sure we both had the kind of family and support that we needed. But Miceus and Selena were much younger—Selena was only five and Miceus was barely three. Father left them with Mother. He intended to take them, too, when they were old enough. But Mother poisoned them against him. Neither one of them has spoken to Father—or to Boreala or me, either—for more than twenty years.
“I know Father regrets leaving them behind, now. He thought he was doing it for the right reasons. But the estrangement has hurt him. Which, of course, is why Mother turned them against Father in the first place. I hope Miceus comes. Father is sure to, since we’ll both be leaving Caere soon. I know how much it would mean to Father to see Miceus again. I don’t think I’ll mention it to Father, though, just in case Miceus changes his mind. He seems awfully uncertain. More than he should be.”
Chapter 27: Unwitting Informer
Gerusa drummed her fingers on the desk. Where could that boy be? It had been a simple enough assignment, even for Miceus. Surely even he couldn’t have messed that up.
A diffident knock on her door interrupted Gerusa’s thoughts. She flicked her hand and her daughter, Selena, stood up to answer it.
“Miceus is here,” Selena announced
Gerusa looked up with a scowl. “Well, about time! What took you so long? Did you get lost? Does that idiot merchant understand exactly what I want this time?”
Miceus swallowed and bobbed his head. “Yes, M-Mother. I explained it just the way you t-told me t-to.”
Gerusa placed her hands flat on the desk. “That can’t have taken you this long.” She wrinkled her nose. “You smell like a tavern.”
Miceus winced. “No, M-Mother. I . . . I m-mean yes, M-Mother. I just—”
“Just what? Spit it out,” Gerusa demanded.
Miceus swallowed again. “I . . . I saw Orleus t-today. I r-ran into him at the d-docks.”
Gerusa’s eyebrows arched in disdain. Her worthless older son was entirely his father’s creature. And so of no interest to her—unless he could be used to strike at Veleus. “Oh? Why do you think I would be interested in that?”
Miceus looked down. “He asked me t-to come to dinner at some f-farm on seventh-day.”
Gerusa’s head whipped up to consider her younger son. “Vatar’s farm?”
Miceus bobbed his head without looking up. “Yes. He said V-Vatar was one of F-Father’s b-bastards with a C-Caerean woman. He d-did say B-Boreala would b-be there.”
Gerusa was silent for a long moment, fingers drumming on the desk. Was this the opportunity she’d been waiting for? A chance to get more information—inside information—about Vatar at last. Always supposing Miceus was up to the job. He was a dreadful liar. Her lips twisted up in a tiny, unpleasant smile. Then again, if he didn’t know her purpose, he wouldn’t need to lie. “I think you should go.”
Miceus looked up, eyes wide. “But what if F-Father is there? Orleus didn’t say it, but I think he means for him to be. You always said I should stay away from F-Father. That he would s-send me away like he d-did Orleus.”
Gerusa waved this off. There’d never been any real possibility of that. It was just a convenient lie to keep Miceus from Veleus’s influence. It had served its purpose long ago. “That was when you were a boy. You’re a man now. He can’t send you anywhere. And you’re old enough to judge for yourself. You won’t believe his lies, now.”
“You r-really think I should go?” Miceus asked.
Gerusa smiled and nodded. “Yes, Miceus, I do. I think it would be very good for you to know more about the rest of your family, now.”
“Well, if you think s-so . . . .”
Gerusa clenched her jaw and tried for patience. It was a simple enough instruction, wasn’t it? “I do. Definitely. Now, go on back to Athra. She’s been wondering where you were.”
“She wasn’t in our apartment. I st-stopped there on the way here.”
Gerusa waved her hand in dismissal. “Well, go back. She’ll find you there.”
Selena came back from seeing her brother out. “Is that wise, Mother? Miceus is weak. Father may turn him against you. Against us.”
Gerusa shrugged. “He may.”
Selena sat down in the chair opposite her. “You don’t care?”
Gerusa steepled her fingers and considered her second daughter for a moment. If Selena was to be her successor, she needed to understand the way things worked. “As you said, Miceus is weak. Too weak to help us. You’re the one that matters, my precious. You’re the strong one. My heir. Miceus doesn’t know anything that Veleus doesn’t already know. He can’t hurt us. But he may be able to get me the information I need about this Vatar.”
Selena’s brow creased. “What’s so important about another one of Father’s bastards? The Lords of Creation know he has enough of them.”
Gerusa’s face hardened. “This one is too strong to be left to do as he pleases. He may have blinded the Council, but not me. He’s a threat. And you and I will have to deal with him, since the Council won’t.”
Chapter 28: Family Reunion
On seventh-day, Orleus went down to the Temple garden hoping to meet Miceus. He stood up as the boat from Palace Island docked, but it held only two occupants, Father and Boreala. He wondered idly what Boreala had been doing over in the Palace. She didn’t like the place any more than he did. A patient, perhaps? He’d hoped Miceus would arrive first. He really didn’t want to raise their hopes in case Miceus chose not to come after all.
“What are you doing here, Orleus? You hate the Temple,” Boreala asked.
Orleus looked over her shoulder where a second boat was crossing the narrow strait. “I’m hoping that someone else will join us today.”
“Who?” Veleus asked.
Orleus shook his head. “No. I don’t want to say in case he decides not to come. You go on to Vatar’s. I’ll be there in time for dinner.”
“Now you’ve aroused my curiosity,” Veleus said. “We could wait for this mystery guest with you.”
Orleus eyes brightened as he recognized the occupant of the second boat. “You won’t have to. Here he comes.”
Miceus paused as he stepped off the boat. He looked half inclined to jump back in the boat before it could push off from the dock.
Orleus went to him. “I’m glad you decided to join us.”
Father strode past him. “Miceus!” He grabbed Miceus into a hug. “I’ve wanted to see you again for a long time, son! Your mother keeps you so close, I’ve barely been able to catch a glimpse of you for twenty years.”
As he stepped back, Father’s eyes glowed. For a moment, Orleus almost thought his father might weep for joy. Father, usually so quick to read people, didn’t even appear to notice that Miceus had gone stiff. Well, it would probably take some time for them all to get reacquainted.
Father only took his arm away from Miceus’s shoulder when Boreala stepped forward.
Tears were glittering in her eyes, but she smiled. “Remember me?”
Miceus nodded.
She hugged him, too. “It’s been too long, Miceus. You were so young the last time I saw you.”
Miceus responded better to Boreala, actually raising his arms to hug her back briefly. When she stepped back, he looked a little overwhelmed, like a new recruit on the eve of his first battle.
Orleus put on his reassuring captain smile and put his hand on Miceus’ shoulder. He gave him a gentle push to get him started. “Come on. It’s a fair walk to the farm. We don’t want to be late for dinner. Castalia is a fine cook.”
“C-Castalia?” Miceus asked.
“Vata
r’s aunt. She usually comes out to the farm on seventh-day. You’ll meet the whole crowd when we get there.”
“C-Crowd?” Miceus’s voice held a slight tremor.
Orleus started counting up in his head. About a dozen adults, not counting the children. It didn’t seem like that many to him, but they would all be virtual strangers to Miceus. Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe he should have come up with some less public way to bring them all back together. Introduced—or reintroduced—them by ones and twos. “There are a few of us. But it’s all family and close friends.”
~
Orleus watched his brother closely. Miceus didn’t say much during dinner, but he finally seemed to relax amid the easy camaraderie of Vatar’s household. He only achieved a degree of animation when little Caslar woke up—loudly—and Elaria went to bring him out to join the party.
Miceus watched as the infant was passed from hand to hand. “I have one only a little older than that. My youngest.” He smiled at Cestus’s children, too. And Theklan.
Father turned to him eagerly. “You have three, I think.”
Miceus smiled. “Yes. My oldest is about Jana’s age. It’s amazing how fast they grow. She’ll be starting at the Temple school the next time I turn around, I think.”
Orleus noticed that Miceus didn’t stammer when he talked about his children. “Cestus teaches at the Temple school. And Theklan, here, attends three days out of seven.”
Miceus blinked. “He d-does?” He looked over at Thekila. “Are you F-Fasallon, then?”
“No, Valson,” Thekila answered without taking her eyes off little Caslar. She bounced him a little before handing him off to Castalia.
A little crease appeared between Miceus’s eyes. “B-But I thought the T-Temple school was only for F-Fasallon children.”
“The High Council made an exception for Theklan,” Vatar said. “In fact, they insisted.”
After that, the conversation turned to other things and Miceus slid back into his silence. When Miceus started to edge toward the door, Father and Boreala rose to go with him.
Vatar walked to the gate with them. “You’re welcome to come back and join us any time, Miceus. And bring your family, if you want to.”
“I’d enjoy a chance to meet my grandchildren,” Father said.
Orleus could almost see Miceus trying to come up with a reason to decline. “He’ll have to come back next seventh-day. Quetza and I sail just a few days later. It will be the last chance we’ll have to meet face to face for a while.”
Miceus swallowed hard. “Of course I’ll come, then.”
Orleus accompanied the three of them down the hill and saw Father and Miceus into the boat. Orleus sat on one of the garden benches, talking to Boreala until she had to return to her house to rest for the next day. When he judged Father would have returned to his own apartment in the Palace, he reached out with Far Speech. “Well, Father, what do you think?”
Father sighed. “She’s taken all the spirit out of that boy.”
“Yes,” Orleus agreed. “But there’s still a spark of our stubborn streak in there somewhere. He may not be a lost cause, yet.”
“He will be if he spends much more time under that woman’s thumb. I’ve known Gerusa was capable of many things, but this just breaks my heart. He was such a cheerful little boy.”
“I remember.” Orleus shook his head. “I wish I didn’t have to leave so soon. I don’t want to lose touch with him again.”
“He’s promised at least to speak with me again. And he seemed a little easier with Boreala. We won’t let him slip away from us again. I’m just glad you two found each other when you did.”
“Me, too.”
Chapter 29: Miceus
Miceus fidgeted with the laces of his best tunic as he prepared to answer his mother’s summons the next afternoon. She was sure to ask him about Father, Orleus, and Boreala. Maybe about the others who were there as well. It wasn’t so much that he minded talking about it. More that he really hadn’t figured out what he thought about it yet.
It wasn’t just that he wasn’t good at talking to new people. And there had been so many people, and so different from his limited experience. He’d never spoken to Caereans before, except to convey his mother’s instructions. And he didn’t even know what Valson were. Much to his surprise, he’d found them all very welcoming. He even liked them. But they were all so vivid. They made him feel pale and washed out. Every one of them seemed to know exactly who they were, what they wanted to do, and to be certain that they were capable of doing it. Miceus doubted everything all the time, most of all himself.
They all seemed so comfortable with themselves. Even—no especially—Orleus and Boreala. Father couldn’t have been as bad a parent as Mother made him out to be. Miceus felt vaguely cheated. He had to wonder: would he have been more confident, like them, if things had been different?
He tugged on his tunic one last time and knocked on his mother’s door. Didn’t do to keep her waiting.
Mother looked up as soon as he came into the room. “Well, what did you think of your father?”
“I . . . I’m n-not sure, M-mother. He . . . he s-seemed to be t-truly glad to see me. I d-don’t know. There were so m-many p-people there. It’s hard to s-sort out my feelings about any one of them.”
“How many people were there?” Mother asked with unexpected interest.
“About a d-dozen b-besides me. All friends or family of V-Vatar. You know I’m n-not good in large gatherings, M-Mother. They m-make me n-nervous.”
Mother’s lips thinned. “You need to get over that. And stop stammering. It makes you sound feeble-minded.”
Miceus looked down. “I’ll t-try, M-Mother.”
She rapped her knuckles on the desk to make him look up again. “Will you be seeing your father again, then?”
Miceus swallowed. “I . . . I d-did say I’d go b-back n-next seventh-day. Orleus will be leaving C-Caere shortly after that, going b-back to T-Tysoe. He especially wanted me t-to come.”
Mother nodded. “Good. It’ll be good practice for you, if nothing else. You should go.”
“Vatar said I could b-bring Athra and the ch-children if I wanted.” That’d be a help. Miceus found large groups a little easier to deal with if Athra was with him.
Mother’s brows lowered for a moment. She shook her head. “No. I don’t think you need to do that. But you should go. By yourself.”
Miceus ducked his head. “Yes, M-Mother.”
~
Miceus found that he was more comfortable on the following seventh-day, although he still felt a little overwhelmed by all of them.
“I’m going to miss your cooking, Castalia,” Orleus said with regret. “We sail day after tomorrow. The snow will be melting soon. It’s about time I got home and back to my duties.”
Miceus digested that. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. “We? Is someone sailing with you?”
“Quetza is coming back to Tysoe with me for a short while. She wants to see some trees and mountains for a change.”
“R-Really?” Miceus turned to Quetza. “You’re n-not afraid t-to t-travel alone? I mean . . . without a m-male r-relative.”
Orleus laughed. “Miceus! Give me a little credit. I’m not in the habit of ravishing helpless women. And, even if I were, Quetza is hardly helpless. I have no hesitation in saying that she is the most formidable woman I know.”
Quetza arched one eyebrow. “Formidable?”
“In the best possible way.” Orleus raised his mug to her. “A strong and trusted companion.”
“Well . . . b-but she’ll have to t-travel b-back here alone, won’t she?” Miceus asked, trying to cover his gaffe.
“No, we’ll all meet at Zeda around midsummer,” Vatar said. “Then, I presume, Orleus will return to Tysoe from there.”
Orleus nodded. “It will only take three or four days to ride back to the outposts from Zeda. Far less time than it takes to travel between Tysoe and Caere.”<
br />
“Where is Z-Zeda?” Miceus asked. “I’ve n-never heard of that c-city.”
Vatar shrugged. “That’s because it’s not a city. It’s a waterhole. Though the name applies as much to the village nowadays. The Dardani gather there every summer. Arcas and I return to Zeda every year to trade. Well, Arcas does the trading. I do the blacksmith work—mostly repairs. I make most of the new articles, here. It’s easier than carrying the raw iron and steel across the plains, not to mention fuel for my forge. Quetza will rejoin us there.”
Miceus couldn’t help having his curiosity piqued. He knew so little about the world beyond Caere. “I’ve heard the D-Dardani are—”
“Careful, Miceus,” Orleus warned jovially. “There are two Dardani sitting at this table.”
Miceus looked around as if someone he hadn’t seen was about to materialize. “Where?”
Vatar chuckled. “Me, for one. I was born and raised among the Dardani. And Arcas was adopted by my Clan almost five years ago. He spent two years among my people while I was apprenticing to Uncle Lanark, here. And Cestus, Boreala, and Orleus have all spent time with the Dardani, too.”
Miceus blinked. “You don’t look D-Dardani. Aren’t they tall and blond?”
Vatar smiled. “Well, that’s not surprising. My mother is Caerean, Uncle Lanark’s sister.” He nodded toward the older man. “And Veleus is my father.” He nodded toward Father. “But blood isn’t what makes you Dardani. It’s belonging to one of the Clans. I’ve been a true Dardani since I received my Clan Mark at twelve. Arcas was a few years older when he was made a member of the clan.”
“I know I must s-sound ignorant,” Miceus said apologetically. “I had heard that the D-Dardani scarred themselves.”
“You mean the tattoos.” Boreala frowned her disapproval.
“T-Tattoos?”
“Go ahead and show him, Vatar,” Thekila said, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “You have more tattoos than Arcas.”
“I don’t think that’s very appropriate, Thekila,” Castalia said in a shocked tone.
The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) Page 21