by Steven Brust
“It’s hard to, Master. It’s a feeling I have. But when Polyi and I were out all night, they didn’t say a word to us about it.”
“You’re growing up, Savn. They recognize this, and feel you can be trusted more. That’s all it is.”
Savn shook his head. “I’m afraid Vlad put a spell on them.”
The Master cocked his head. “A spell? What sort of spell, and why would he do something like that?”
“A witchcraft spell.”
“Witchcraft!” said the Master. “Nonsense. If you believe all of the rubbish that—Hullo, is someone there?”
There did, indeed, seem to be someone clapping at the door. Savn got up and opened it, and was startled to find himself looking up at Fird, the fruit-seller from Bigcliff.
Savn stared, open-mouthed, his thoughts racing. For one thing, he had forgotten how tall Fird was. For another, Vlad had been asking about him just the other day, and ... Savn realized he was being rude. He closed his mouth, opened it again, and said, “May I be of some service to you?”
“I be here looking,” said Fird, in his low, careful voice, and with the odd grammatical formulations of Bigcliff, “for Master Wag.”
“Who is it?” called the Master from inside.
“Please come in,” said Savn, stepping out of Fird’s way.
“My thanks to you for that,” said Fird, ducking his head as he passed under the Master’s doorway. Over his shoulder was a large sack, which Savn assumed contained the fruit he’d been selling.
The Master rose as he entered, and said, “What seems to be the matter, goodman?”
“A note is sent me to you, by for this Eastern devil. You know him?”
“Eastern devil?” said Master Wag and Savn with one voice. The Master gave Savn a look, then continued. “Do you mean the Easterner, Vlad?”
“The same as him, yes,” said Fird.
“I know him. He sent you a note?”
“That were, or the mountains grew him.”
Savn had to stop and figure this one out, but Master Wag said, “May I see it?”
“To you be done, then,” said Fird, and handed a small piece of pale, almost white parchment to the Master. The Master, in turn, frowned, read it several times, and, with a look that asked permission of Fird, handed it to Savn.
At first, Savn mentally tsked at the Easterner’s penmanship; then he wondered how Vlad had written it. It had probably been done in wood-ash using a dagger’s point. It read: “Sorry I missed you I’ve been hurt ask Master Wag to bring you to me I’ll pay gold.”
Savn handed it back to Fird, while the Master asked, “How do you know him?”
“How? As one will know another. Gold he is offered to me, and then he is not where his promise is. I be curious, I be finding fruit in sack, I be finding note, I be reading, I be coming here. But you he is knowing, and this I be in wonder at.”
“He’s hurt, as he said,” said the Master. “I helped him.”
“So?” said Fird, shrugging. “He is hurt. I have mangoes and apples, which will cure like a physicker.”
“Maybe,” said the Master, sounding doubtful.
“Apples. Apple’s the thing. Where with to—”
“Savn here will lead you to him.”
“Master—”
“You think it’s a trick?”
“Well—”
“If His Lordship, or Speaker, or anyone else knows enough to attempt this sort of trick, it doesn’t much matter if we fall for it.”
“Not to us, but—”
“Think about it, Savn. Think about how much they would have to know.”
“Trick?” said Fird. “Is what this—”
“The Easterner,” said Master Wag, “is hurt because some people tried to kill him. Savn is concerned that—”
“Ah. Well, is to careful, then, but I—”
“Yes, I know,” said the Master. “Savn?”
“All right. Should we go now?” Both Fird and Master Wag nodded.
“I may join you later, to check on our patient, or else I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Very well, Master,” said Savn, and led the way out the door and down the road toward the Curving Stone.
He was saved from the necessity of deciphering Fird’s speech by the fact that Fird didn’t seem inclined to make conversation, and Savn, for his part, didn’t know what to say. Just past the Curving Stone he led the way into the woods, through them, and out over Bigcliff. Fird looked down with interest at the beach where, though he probably didn’t know it, Savn had first pointed him out to Vlad.
Savn still wondered what the Easterner wanted with the fruit-seller. As they approached the cave, Fird stopped, sniffed the air, and said his first words since they set out: “Norska is been roasted.”
Savn smelled it too, and repressed a chuckle. So much for the smell not getting out. “This way,” he said, and led Fird into the cave. “Can you make a light?”
Fird grunted, and a soft red glow filled the cavern. They went through the first, large chamber, and Savn led the way unerringly into the correct passage, and another large chamber. Here, even though Savn half expected it, he was startled by the flapping of wings as the jhereg appeared before him. Fird jumped, and his sorcerous light wavered for a moment as Savn said, “It’s all right, they won’t hurt us.” Fird didn’t appear convinced, but watched the jhereg closely and kept a short knife in his hand.
The jhereg flew around the opening for a moment, then disappeared.
“Is Easterner magic to tame carrion-eaters?” asked Fird.
“I guess,” said Savn.
Fird’s mouth twitched. “Then is onward.”
They continued, Fird ducking to traverse corridors that Savn was able to walk through upright, until they saw the flickering glow of the torches.
Savn called out, “Vlad? It’s Savn. Fird, the fruit-seller, is with me.”
There was a rustling sound ahead, and in the dim light Savn was able to make out Vlad turning his head. “Good,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“How are you feeling?”
“Weak. But a little better, I think.”
“Great.”
“Sorry I missed our appointment, Fird. Glad you got the note.”
Fird was watching Vlad carefully. He said, “Note is arrived, but the wondering is from its means of travel.”
“Does it matter?”
“Magic is that of the Easterner, is to wonder what else you is to have done or will do?”
“For one thing,” said Vlad. “Give you a certain amount of gold, in exchange for answering some questions. Have you been to—” He paused and looked at Savn.
“Would you like me to leave?”
“Please,” said Vlad. “I’m sorry, but I’d rather this not be overheard.”
Savn shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care, and, taking one of the burning torches, wandered back out of the cave. To his surprise, the larger of the jhereg accompanied him. He was even more surprised to realize that this no longer bothered him. Finding a comfortable-looking spot beneath a tree just outside the cave, he put out the torch and settled down with his back against the trunk. The jhereg perched on a low branch of the same tree.
Savn looked up at it, and it looked back, as if waiting for Savn to start the conversation. “I would like to know,” said Savn obligingly, “what they’re talking about in there.”
The jhereg stared at him with unblinking, reptilian eyes.
“And while we’re on the subject,” he continued, “I’d like to know how close the searchers are getting to this cave. If I knew how long we had, I—well, I don’t know what I’d do. But I’d like to know.
“And, since I’m asking questions, just what did Vlad do to Mae and Pae? I know, I know. He put a spell on them.”
He frowned and studied the ground between his feet. He’d known since last night that Vlad had enchanted them, but it seemed to take a long time for the fact to make its way into his bones. There was somethi
ng so evil about doing such a thing—about magically clouding someone’s eyes, muffling his thoughts—that he couldn’t really think of it as something done by the Easterner lying helpless a hundred yards into the hill.
And the thought that, even now, Mae and Pae were under the influence of whatever spell Vlad had cast was utterly foreign to his emotions; he didn’t know how to look at it. The anger that ought to be his natural response simply wouldn’t appear.
He tried to imagine himself confronting the half-dead Vlad and telling him off for it, but his imagination failed. He thought about doing nothing until Vlad felt better, but that didn’t seem right either.
“What would you do?” he asked the jhereg.
It ducked its head under its wing and cleaned itself, then seemed to settle more fully onto the branch and looked around with, Savn imagined, an expression of mild curiosity.
“So, what am I waiting for? I’m not going to ask him about Mae and Pae. Why am I here? In case he has a relapse? But am I going to heal him after what he did? Of course I am; I can’t let him die.”
He stared at the jhereg, who seemed completely uninterested in his problems. He scowled at it. “What I should do is abandon Vlad and see what I can do for Mae and Pae. Sure. Good idea. But what can I do for them? They’ve been enchanted; I don’t know anything about enchantments.”
He stopped, feeling his eyes grow wide. “But Bless does. Bless knows all about curses of the gods, and whatever this Easterner did, it can’t be that bad. That’s it. Vlad can take care of himself; I have to find Bless.”
And, with no more reflection or questions, he stood and dashed off toward town.
Twilight made the outlines of the livery stable indistinct as Savn came up over the top of the hill. He stopped and surveyed the city. There were a few people on the outskirts, talking, as there always were; Savn could make out Tif from her posture and Boarder from his hair, and there were others he didn’t yet recognize. At the far end a few people moved about, but they were too far away to identify. However, he was certain he saw a two-horse wagon not far from Speaker’s, and Bless was one of the few (as was Savn’s family) who drove two horses.
He started down the hill, and couldn’t help but notice how the gossips outside of Feeder’s stopped talking and watched him pass. It was creepy. But they didn’t say anything to him, and he didn’t see any of his friends.
Bless and Ori came out of Speaker’s house and climbed into the wagon. Savn ran up to them, waving. Bless saw him, checked the horses, and waited. Ori looked at him with mild curiosity. Bless’s face was round, his eyes were very widely set, and the look on his face seemed suspicious, as if he wasn’t certain Savn was doing what he was supposed to do.
“The evening’s rain to you, sir.”
“And to you, young man. Where have you been this last day?”
“Where have I been, sir?”
“Yes, the whole town has gathered to look for this Easterner, and your absence was noticed.”
“I didn’t know. Why were you looking for him, sir?”
“That is none of your concern, young man. You should be glad that it is I and not Speaker who wants to know, or you can be sure the questions would be rougher in the asking and quicker in the answering.”
“Yes, sir.” Savn didn’t look at Ori, but he was aware of him there, watching, and it made Savn angry and uncomfortable.
“So where were you?” asked Bless.
Savn heard himself answer, “I was looking for him, too.”
“You were?”
“Yes, sir. I saw what happened, and he was hurt, and I thought he might need physicking, and—”
“Physicking!” thundered Bless. “Of all the nerve! This Easterner killed—actually killed—three of His Lordship’s men-at-arms, and you want to physick him?”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I should hope so! He has already done more evil here than you can imagine.”
“I know, sir. That’s what I wanted to ask you about.”
That seemed to catch Bless up short. “Eh? Is there something I don’t know about?”
“Yes, sir. It’s Mae and Pae.”
“Well? What about them?”
“I wonder if you could ... that is, I think they’ve been enchanted.”
Bless made a peculiar sound with his mouth and nose. “Enchanted?” he said. “And by whom?”
“By Vlad, the Easterner.”
“Oh, he’s a wizard, is he?”
“No, sir, a witch.”
“Rubbish,” said Bless. “A witch can’t do anything to you unless you believe he can. Have you spoken to Master Wag about this? What does he say about witches?”
“The same as you, sir, only—”
“Well, there you have it.”
“But—”
Bless sighed. “Very well. What makes you think this witch has done something to them?”
“They’ve been acting funny. I mean, really funny.”
Bless sniffed. “Maybe they’re concerned about you.”
“That’s just it. They’re not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, they don’t seem to care what I do.”
“Eh? That’s the first time I’ve heard that complaint from a young man. What did you do that they didn’t care about?”
Savn realized that he was in dangerous waters. He wanted to say enough to convince Bless to do something, but not so much that Bless would know what he’d been up to.
“Well, I stayed out playing, and they didn’t do anything about it. They didn’t seem to even notice.”
“I see. And because of this you think they’re enchanted?”
“Well, yes. If you’d seen the way they’ve been acting—”
“I saw them two days past, and they seemed quite fine to me.”
“It hadn’t happened yet.”
“Young man, I believe that you are suffering from a disease called bad conscience. Instead of seeing mysterious enchantments everywhere, I’d recommend you start doing what you should be doing, and I suspect everything will be fine.”
“But—”
“But at the moment, I’ve got bigger problems. While this Easterner may not be casting spells on everyone’s mother, he is out there somewhere, and I must see to it that he is found before he does any more damage. Now be on your way.”
Without waiting for Savn’s answer, Bless motioned for Ori to drive off. Savn clenched his fists with frustration. Why did everyone only see what he wanted to?
Savn looked around to make sure he hadn’t attracted any attention, and saw, to his dismay, Lan and Tuk walking by on the opposite side of the street, staring at him. They looked away when he stared back, which was almost worse than if they’d tried to beat him up again.
He turned and headed for home. Maybe Polyi would say something that would cheer him up.
The walk home was long, and it was nearly dark by the time he got there. Mae and Pae were still busy, and when they bid him a good day, it seemed that they were even further away than they had been.
Savn wondered if perhaps he was exaggerating their condition to himself. He couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think so.
Polyi was in the house, and her first words were, “Are they sick, Savn?”
He thought about giving her an honest answer, but couldn’t make himself do it. He said, “I don’t know what’s wrong, Polyi. I just don’t know.”
“Should we ask someone?”
“Who?”
“Well, Master Wag, maybe?”
“I don’t think they’re sick.”
“Well somethings wrong with them.”
Savn sighed. “Yes, I know. Let me think about it.”
“What good will thinking about it do? We have to—”
“I know, we have to do something. But I don’t know—What in the world was that?” There had come some sort of rapping, scraping sound from the roof.
Polyi rushed out the door, Savn right at her heels. They tu
rned and looked up at the roof. Polyi screamed. Savn, though he had become used to such things, felt very much like doing the same.
* * *
For an hour or so after the large soft one left, the Provider seemed fine, and even after that, she couldn’t really tell that something was wrong, but her lover began to grow agitated, then worried, and finally almost frantic. He began to fly around, nearly hurting himself against the cave walls.
She came to understand that the Provider was not well, and she wondered if the large soft one had done something to him, and if she should track him down and kill him. No, she was told, it had nothing to do with that one, it had to do with how he had gotten hurt before.
This puzzled her, because it seemed that one would either be injured or healthy; the Provider had been injured and was now getting healthy again, so how could the same injury account for two illnesses? But her lover was in no mood to explain such things, so she didn’t ask.
As he grew more frantic, however, she began to catch his mood. Desperate to do something that would alleviate his misery, she at last suggested that, if he had been cured before by something one of the Provider’s species had done, couldn’t it happen again?
Her lover calmed down at this suggestion, only to become angry again, this time at himself, because he seemed to feel he ought to have thought of that before. But he seemed disinclined to waste too much time with such thoughts; almost at once he turned and flew out of the cave.
She had nothing better to do, so she followed.
Chapter Fourteen
I will not marry a sly intendant,
I will not marry a sly intendant,
I’d make money and he would spend it.
Hi-dee hi-dee ho-la!
Step on out ...
Polyi clutched Savn’s arm and stared. The day’s light was nearly gone but there was enough to see, without possibility of error, what was sitting on the roof. Even to Savn, there was something horribly invasive in the jhereg’s perching on his own house; whatever they were, and however friendly they were, they didn’t belong here.
It was only much later that it struck Savn as odd that neither he nor Polyi thought of calling Mae and Pae, which would have been their automatic reaction only three days before.