Amidst all this, Sorial also had to confront his feelings about Rexall. He was conflicted. Standing beside him was the same boy he had grown up alongside. For seven years, they had shared almost everything, their lives entwined as they had passed through adolescence into young adulthood. To learn that even a portion of that had been choreographed by Ferguson caused another fracture in Sorial’s already brittle sense of identity. But it was unbecoming for one such as him to feel self-pity. The portal had washed away that right.
He could understand why Rexall had accepted money from the Temple. Its representatives were, after all, priests, and priests were supposed to be noble and trustworthy. For someone raised in poverty and forced to shovel straw and shit for a living, even a few extra coins could be a boon. Rexall, never inclined toward miserliness, had lavished some of his money on Sorial, often paying for drinks and occasionally for whores. Looking back, Sorial wondered why he had never questioned his friend’s largesse. Nevertheless, understanding was not the same as forgiving. The betrayal hurt, another tiny stab wound. Knowledge of it created a possibly insurmountable barrier between them.
“We got to talk about it,” he said with a sigh, breaking the lengthy silence. There was no need to specify what was meant by it. “And if there’s any hope of salvaging some part of our friendship, I need honesty from you.”
Rexall nodded. His face was as sober as Sorial could remember seeing it. No cocky grin or sarcastic sneer. Complete understanding and perhaps relief at being given a chance to unburden himself.
“First, there’s something I need to know. Did you have anything to do with what happened to Annie?”
Rexall appeared shocked by the question. “Never! Sor, I don’t think you understand how little I did for Ferguson. I wasn’t like Warburm and the others. He didn’t tell me his plans. In fact, till a season ago, I never met the man face-to-face. It was always through go-betweens. Always little things.”
“Tell me. Everything.”
“It started about a season after we met. A priest asked me if I was willing to do something to help His Eminence. Being the good, religious boy I was, I asked what was in it for me. He told me I would be ‘compensated.’ Not knowing what that meant, I asked for details and he handed me a small pouch of brass studs. I felt rich. He said he wanted me to keep being friends with you. That didn’t seem so bad: money for hanging around with someone I liked. From time-to-time, he came to me with questions about you. They were always dumb things. What did you think of your job? Did you like your master? How often did you see your mother and did you get along with her? Did you believe in the gods? Later, after you met Alicia, they asked a lot about her. Did you love her? Had you fucked her? Once in a while, they asked me to do little things. Like take you bathing in the river on Carannan’s property. They asked me to talk you out of becoming serious with Annie, as if I had any influence.”
Sorial had to admit, those were all minor things. Compared to what others in his life - Warburm, Lamanar, Kara - had done, they were inconsequential. But he suspected that wasn’t everything. “What about after Alicia was sent to the temple? Did you tell them everything you and I talked about and all the messages I asked you to give to Alicia?”
Rexall hesitated before answering. “Only what they wanted to know. Once they were sure you hadn’t run away, they didn’t ask much. Then, after you left with Warburm, they told me to contact them if Alicia proposed an escape plan, which they expected. She did, so I went to them. That’s when Ferguson met me in person.
“His proposal was convoluted, but I suppose that’s always the case with him. I mean, if he wanted to get Alicia to a portal, why not send her to one with an armed escort? He loves playing games. Sometimes I think they’re more important to him than getting results. He offered me 100 gold - 50 in advance, 50 on completion. Do you know how long it would take me to earn that much legitimately? Of course you do. Never in a lifetime. Even the hardest working farmer or tradesman can’t earn a full gold in a year. To have a chance at that much... My duties, as they were described to me, were to aid Alicia in her ‘escape’, provide guidance and protection on the road to Ibitsal, and assess her ‘empathy’ with the portal. If it ‘touched’ her, I was to ensure by whatever means necessary that she pass through it. Ferguson believed her to be a wizard. He said that in case you failed, there had to be a second option or Vantok would be left unprotected in an upcoming war. And not just Vantok but potentially the entire continent. He said a lot of things about balance and the need to have as many sympathetic wizards as possible. I guess you could say he convinced me this was about more than the money. After all, what good’s coin if there ain’t no cities to spend it in?”
“What happened at the portal?” asked Sorial. He had a sick feeling he knew the answer. Ensure by whatever means necessary that she pass through it. That sounded like Ferguson, who had said to Sorial: The path is open for your prospective bride, should she hear the portal, to step through it and emerge transformed. But had she stepped through of her own volition?
Rexall hesitated again, an internal battle being waged between complete honesty and prevarication. But he hadn’t been the only witness to events. Eventually, Alicia would tell her version. “She was going to enter on her own. It was as if the portal was pulling her to it. Then your mother jumped and the violence of her death - I ain’t never seen nothing like it - frightened Alicia. That was the moment. I knew I wouldn’t get another chance, not with Maraman in charge. So... I pushed her.”
Sorial bowed his head, fighting for calm. Part of him wanted to open the ground beneath Rexall’s feet and let the earth erase all trace of him. But this was Rexall, his friend. His supposed friend who had gambled Alicia’s life on the word of the scheming prelate. “She could have died. That push could have killed her.”
“Ferguson said...”
“You didn’t know. And you just saw my mother die. It would have been one thing for her to walk in on her own, to make that decision understanding the risks. But you took that away from her. You decided. You pushed her!”
“Don’t the results matter? Ain’t the world a better place cause of what I did? Ferguson said she was born to be a wizard. Now she is one. How can you say I did wrong by her or by you? What would you have done in my place?
“I would have let her choose.”
“Do you know why she left the temple? Why we went on this long journey? To find you. To stop you. That was her goal - to take away your choice. In the end, she may have changed her mind, but that was the reason for it all. And if she had chosen not to enter the portal, what then? Let her be Maraman’s hostage? As far as I knew, you were dead. Was I supposed to let the opportunity pass? If you died somewhere in The Forbidden Lands, Maraman eventually would have tired of waiting for you and given her to his men for entertainment. And if you had succeeded, as you obviously did, she would have made you beholden to him. You think there was no justification for what I did?”
Rexall’s arguments were persuasive, but Sorial couldn’t get beyond the stark truth that, if the scales of fate had balanced differently, the push would have killed Alicia. If another had previously claimed stewardship of Water, she would have perished as surely as Braddock and Kara had. He believed he could have forgiven all of Rexall’s other activities, but not the last one. It was too consequential. In a way, it was as bad as anything Warburm or Ferguson had done. A favorable result was not a justification.
“You can’t travel back to Vantok with me. You’ll have to find your own way. I suppose you’ll want to claim the rest of your gold. You’ve earned it. First, though, I’ll ask you to escort Aiden back to Sussaman. They’ll welcome you there. You did Ferguson’s bidding; that’s something they understand. They’ll throw a feast in your honor and fete you through the Winter. Wine, willing women, and dancing - all things you love. But you and I, we’re done. You ain’t got to worry I’ll come after you. That’d be petty and I got bigger issues to worry about. But the trust between us is broken. Too bro
ken for me to see a way to fix it. Now get some sleep. You and Aiden head west at first light.”
* * *
She slept. Peacefully it seemed to Sorial, the perfect picture of serenity. He gazed at her as if he had never before seen her, drinking in this image as if there would never be another. She looked different, but no less desirable. As he watched her in repose, he recognized how different she appeared from the pixie who had first invaded his stable and life all those years ago, before any of this had been real.
She had cut her hair and colored it dark, although the dye was beginning to fade. Her body had ripened into a more womanly shape. While dressing her, he had noticed her fuller breasts and the tuft of fair hair between her legs. But she was thinner than he remembered, likely the result of having spent so much time on the road. He wondered when she had last experienced a good meal or spent a night in a comfortable bed.
He had no doubt he would look more different to her than she did to him. He had lost a hand, toes, and pieces of an ear. He had new scars on his arms, back, and face. Two of his senses were dead. Yet the most important change for both of them was hidden. That change would define the remainder of their lives: The Lord of Earth, The Lady of Water.
Alicia was dressed in the best fitting garment Sorial had been able to find, her own clothing having been lost. The robe she wore was many sizes too big but, cinched at the waist, it at least provided a buffer against the cold and a protection for her modesty (if the latter mattered to her).
It was mid-morning and, outside the tent, the snow was falling at a regular pace, muting sound and hiding sins. It drifted through the vent hole to evaporate in the heat of the cooling rocks and embers. They were too old now to offer significant warmth but Sorial saw no reason to re-heat them, although he might have been able to do it by magic. As soon as Alicia awoke, they would be off. Until then, there were enough furs to ward off the cold’s bitterest edge.
A part of him couldn’t believe she was really here with him after so much time spent waiting, wishing, hoping, and worrying. It also occurred to him that this was one of the few times they had been alone together. But they had paid a heavy price for this solitary togetherness. Lamanar, Kara, and Vagrum dead. Rexall dismissed. Sorial had lost more over the past season than Alicia; at least she still had a family. All he had left was a sister who wanted to kill him. And Alicia. They had each other. They could finally say that. Whatever else their individual journeys might have been about, the endpoint - being able to embrace one another without barriers of class or wealth interfering - had been worth the sacrifices. Or at least that was the case for Sorial. He hoped Alicia felt the same.
He noticed that her left foot had slipped out from under the furs. He reached out to gently massage the sole. Her skin was smooth and soft to the touch. His feet were a mass of calluses. Working as a stableboy and a guard did not encourage nice feet. Alicia, on the other hand, had been raised in circumstances where anything longer or more rigorous than a morning stroll around the gardens was discouraged. Her trek to the North had undoubtedly been arduous but it had been undertaken on horseback.
“They’re dirty.” He glanced up from her toes to see her regarding him curiously.
“Not nearly as dirty as mine,” he replied, releasing her foot.
She pouted. “That felt nice. No one has massaged my feet since I was a little girl. My mother used to do it back when we were... closer.”
One subject about which Sorial was ignorant was Alicia’s relationship with her mother. He knew it was frosty, but he didn’t understand all the reasons for the distance. He had never met Lady Evane, although he had seen her a few times. In face and figure, Alicia took after her, although she had inherited her father’s eyes.
“So it wasn’t all a dream.”
“What part?” asked Sorial. “The part where we fucked like bunnies?”
“That was your dream, stableboy.” She gave a wry smile. “I mean Ibitsal, the portal, your killing Maraman. Shit, I’m a wizard!”
“The perfect match.”
“Ferguson’s perfect match.” There was rancor in her tone, but also an element of wonder. Sorial had departed Vantok with the full intention of becoming a wizard or dying in the attempt. Alicia, on the other hand, hadn’t recognized her fate until standing in front of the portal. This wasn’t just new to her, it was unexpected.
“Were you scared?” she asked. “At the portal, I mean. When you were looking into it? I’ve never seen anything so black.”
Sorial considered, remembering what it had been like. “I didn’t have time to be scared. We were being chased by a lot of men who wanted to kill us. It was act or die. If I hadn’t gone through, they woulda cut me to pieces. There wasn’t no choice. Die by the portal or die by some sadistic warlord’s subjects. It didn’t seem to matter.”
“I was scared. Shitless. Not at first. But when your mother jumped... You know about her?” Sorial nodded silently. She continued, “What happened to her was so brutal. She didn’t just die. She was torn to pieces. And she heard the call just as I did.”
That surprised Sorial. It meant his mother had possessed the innate ability to wield magic. But she also had had the misfortune of being sympathetic to the same element as her daughter. Failing to consider her potential ability had been an oversight on Ferguson’s part. For a man who planned so meticulously, he had missed some obvious things. If he had known about Kara, would he still have used her to breed? Probably; he had wanted more than a single wizard in his stable. If possible, all four. Kara, Braddock, Sorial, Alicia - how close he had come...
“He pushed me, you know? That bastard Rexall. Your choice of friends leaves a lot to be desired, stableboy.”
“He told me after a little prodding. I sent him away. He’s on his way to Sussaman with Aiden. From there, he can make his own way. I don’t much care where he goes. I suspect he’ll wait for the Planting thaw and head south to Vantok, probably providing protection for a merchant along the way. Ferguson owes him money.”
“Then you know... what he did? Everything he did?”
“Ferguson told me some. Rexall told me the rest. Ain’t no reason for him to lie.”
“Things would be different if he hadn’t pushed me. I don’t know whether to praise him or curse him.”
“Maybe both.”
“Maybe, but I never would have jumped on my own. After seeing Kara, I was paralyzed.”
“Can you forgive him?”
“No. I’m one to hold grudges. Not for pushing me into the portal, but for the role he played in Vagrum’s death. If not for the charade, Vagrum would be alive. That’s Rexall’s sin in my eyes. What about you, can you forgive him? When he and I spoke, he seemed to think you’d understand his motives.”
“He’s right. That don’t mean I approve. Can I forgive him? I don’t know and, unless we meet again, it won’t matter. As far as I’m concerned, Rexall is a part of my past, not my future. I’ll deal with his return to Vantok if it happens.”
“How much was I worth to him?” asked Alicia.
Sorial was confused. “Worth?”
“How much did Ferguson pay him to drag me up here and throw me into the portal?”
“One hundred gold.”
“One hundred??” She sounded mortally offended. “It should have been twice that at least!”
“It’s the going rate. Same thing a bastard named Langashin was expecting to get paid for turning me over to Maraman.”
Alicia started to say something then paused. For the first time, she noticed what she was wearing. “These aren’t my clothes.”
“No, they ain’t. Your clothes were stripped away when you entered the portal.”
“You saw me naked?” Her tone was accusatory.
Sorial nodded. “Fair’s fair. You saw me naked too.”
“I did?” Her face took on a look of intense concentration. “I don’t remember. When?”
“When I got here. Earth-travel don’t allow clothing or other stuff.
I came naked and unarmed.”
“Damn. My senses were addled by Maraman’s greenberry cider. Tastes like piss.”
“My senses were not addled when I put you in the robe and wrapped you in the furs.”
“Did you like what you saw, stableboy?”
“Very much.”
“Look a little different than last time?”
“Didn’t see much last time. You never gave me more than a peek.” Half-glimpses by the river. Nothing overly scandalous with Vagrum always so close. It had been dark both times they came close to consummating their relationship. Touch, not sight, had guided him on those occasions. His hands, not his eyes, had explored her. Now one of those hands was gone. Before today, he had never seen her naked, at least not properly. The reverse wasn’t true, and she remembered.
“I’m hoping all parts of you have grown in equal proportion. Although, as I recall, you were well enough endowed when you were younger. Not that I have much to compare it to. My father was protecting my innocence so I’d go chaste to the bed of my future husband. Which, as it turns out, will be you.” She smiled one of those deliciously wicked smiles Sorial loved. The smile vanished when she caught sight of his stump. “What happened?” Her voice was stricken. For the first time, she seemed to see him as he truly was, with all the new scars and signs of recent injury.
“Let’s just say I was outclassed in a swordfight. It’s a long story, but we got a week’s trip ahead of us if we’re going back to Vantok. Plenty of time to catch up and for you to start exploring your magic.”
The Curse in the Gift (The Last Whisper of the Gods Book 2) Page 21