Storms of Destiny

by A. C. Crispin

  Nor have you bought a single pretty gown, or attended a single afternoon party or evening ball. Instead you have been frequenting taverns and wine-gardens, wearing sinful clothing and consorting with Imperial troops. I have heard the reports of your wanton activities directly from my observer, so do not think to try and deny my findings.

  You are to start for home immediately upon receipt of this letter. I must tell you that when your poor mother, Goddess bless her, heard of your sluttish antics, she collapsed, and has not been able to rise from her bed since that day. You are needed to tend her, Talis.

  If you come straight home, daughter, do not fear that I will insist that you marry. Instead you may stay on here, caring for your mother. That is also a daughter’s proper role, and I will not be ashamed to have you living here, unmarried, so long as your mother lives.

  I believe in being truthful, so I feel I must tell you that we have a new addition to the household. Daughter, you have been gone now for two months, and during that time, your uncle Jasti has been of great help to me. He tells me that he is sorry for his drunken behavior that night, Talis, and I believe him. He has gotten himself into debt, and I was in strong need of an overseer, as you well know. So Jasti has come to live in the overseer’s cottage. But fear not, Talis. He is a changed man. I do not allow him drink, and he attends services with us regularly. He has worked hard and the farm is prospering under his care. He will not accost you again, he has assured me.

  You are a good girl at heart, Talis. You have always been a dutiful daughter. I am gravely disappointed by your duplicity and behavior there in the city, but I, too,

  was once young. I am prepared to forgive you, and will welcome you home.

  Please start for home as soon as you have finished reading these words. Your mother longs to see your face, and I do also.

  I remain, your loving father,

  Gerdal

  Talis finished the letter, drew a deep breath, and looked up at the courier. “Return to North Amis,” she said, “and tell my father I will do as he commands. Tell him I am sorry for my behavior.”

  The courier nodded impassively.

  “Also tell him,” Talis added, “that I will start for home in four days. I must wait until Market Day, because I still have to sell off that troublesome slave.”

  Truth

  “Careful, Jezzil,” Khith warned. “The fumes that will arise from this distillation are powerful. Unless you wish to take a nap on the floor, cover your mouth and nose, then hold your breath while pouring.”

  Jezzil glanced over at the Hthras, took up a length of cloth and tied it across his face. Then, very carefully, he tipped the distillation flask and began filling the six small bottles with the greenish liquid.

  “Be sure you get the same amount into all of the bottles,”

  Khith said. The Hthras was perched atop a human-sized stool on the other side of the room it had set up as a laboratory. “My notes say this distillation makes exactly three doses per vial.”

  Jezzil did not speak. Eyes narrowed in concentration, he poured with great care. Not until he was finished and the bottles were sealed did he step away from the distillation tubes and burners to face his teacher. He glanced at his notes. Khith had begun teaching him its own language, so it could translate the spells and potions with greater accuracy.

  As a result, Jezzil’s notes were a strange mix of Chonao script mixed with additions in the Hthras tongue. “Used to

  treat insomnia … obviously,” he muttered. “A general soporific when used in combination with a strong analgesic, can render a patient unconscious for surgery.”

  “Correct, Jezzil,” the Hthras said, pleased. “You are a good and conscientious student. A minuscule dose can be used to facilitate a dreaming trance state, for possible foreseeing or farseeing.”

  “How much is a minuscule dose?” Jezzil put down the distillation flask and began stoppering the vials with small corks.

  “One thimbleful,” Khith said. “Half of a regular spoonful.”

  Jezzil nodded, then brought the rack holding the corked vials over to his teacher. “Now what?”

  “The corks must be sealed with wax,” the Hthras said.

  “The hot wax will keep the mixture fresh for many months.”

  Jezzil nodded, then gestured at the small brazier that sat on the laboratory table. “Where will I find the wax?”

  “Not now, young Jezzil,” the doctor said. “You are limping a bit. Sit down. Rest. We do not want to strain that leg.”

  Jezzil shrugged, then sat down on one of the tall stools.

  Khith slid down, went over to its student and looked down at his leg. “I want to check for heat and inflammation,” the healer said. “Remove your trousers, if you please.”

  Jezzil sighed. “My leg is fine, Doctor,” he said, but obeyed, sliding his trousers down until they were puddled around his ankles and he was sitting on the stool clad in his shirt and underdrawers.

  Khith carefully examined the leg, pressing delicately, checking for inflammation, heat, or signs of pain. The physician could feel slight swelling but no heat, and Jezzil showed no signs of pain when it probed the site of the break and the surrounding area. “A bit of massage, then elevation, will help,”

  it said, beginning to gently knead the patient’s calf muscle.

  Jezzil’s skin was very warm, the flesh tight and youthful.

  The human was not very hairy, as humans went. The Hthras went on massaging, realizing that the touch of human flesh was … very pleasurable. Deep within itself, it felt a faint stirring. Its heartbeat quickened, its respiration grew faster.

  What is this? Khith wondered, then suddenly realized that it must be experiencing something it had never felt before … the first flush of sexual attraction. For a human?

  Khith had never felt this way about one of its own people.

  How can this be happening to me?

  It felt a sudden urge to lean forward and press its face against the human’s bare skin. Quickly, it pulled its hands free, and did not look up at the Chonao. “Now make sure you keep it elevated this evening.” it mumbled.

  “I will,” Jezzil said. “Thank you, Doctor, that feels much better.”

  Khith glanced at the clock on the wall. “Nearly time for dinner,” it observed. “Do you know where—”

  The Hthras broke off as the door to the laboratory was flung open. Adept and student turned to see a panting, flushed Thia standing there. “Jezzil,” she gasped. “I ran all the way. You have to come!”

  Jezzil was on his feet and yanking up his trousers before she finished speaking. “What is it? What’s happened? Come where?”

  “Talis sent me. There are some men who have been talking with Castio, and they’re like you. Chonao. Talis wants you to come to the taproom at the Blue Boar.”

  “Do you need a translator?”

  “Something like that! Hurry, come on!”

  Jezzil didn’t even pick up his cane as he headed out the door. Khith watched his apprentice go, and was relieved for the chance to regain its composure before having to face the young human again.

  Can I be falling in love? it wondered as it moved around the lab, automatically making the proper preparations to seal the sleep distillate. Is that possible?

  It was true that the Hthras felt closer to both Jezzil and Thia than it ever had to any being, since the death its father. But love? No, it cannot be, it thought fiercely. It is impossible!

  The Blue Boar was only a few blocks away. Jezzil followed Thia through streets thronged with sailors and soldiers. Several ships had docked that day, and the taverns were full to bursting.

  Why does Talis want me here? Jezzil wondered. He had no intention of talking to any of his countrymen. He knew that if they knew the truth about him, they would despise him for a coward and a weakling. I don’t care what she says, I’m not talking to them!

  He thought about trying to explain this to Thia, but was hard-pressed to keep up with her smalle
r form as she wove her way through the crowd.

  Finally she turned into one of the broader alleyways. The lamplighters had been busy, and there was enough light to see the splashed contents of an emptied chamber pot. Jezzil leaped over it, wincing when his wounded leg took his weight.

  Rowdy laughter and bellowing voices assailed them from the tavern. Just as they reached it, the door opened and two drunken sailors reeled out into the alley. Jezzil pulled Thia aside as they staggered along. One of them slipped in the puddle and sat down with a splash and a curse. His companion laughed so hard that he nearly joined him. Jezzil snick-ered. Serves the sot right.

  Thia tugged on his arm. “Come on!” Moments later she stopped with the door held halfway open, letting out a blast of hot, alescented air and the off-key chorus of a bawdy ballad. She beckoned him to lean closer. “They’re over on the other side of the room,” she said. Her breath was warm and tickled his ear. “Talis wants us to stay near them, so you can hear if they talk in your language. They want to make some kind of alliance with Castio, but she says some parts of their story don’t ring true.”

  Jezzil hesitated. “Do I have to talk to them?”

  She shook her head. “Just listen. We don’t even want them to know you’re Chonao.”

  Jezzil glanced down at what he was wearing. Except for his boots, which were those of a Chonao horseman, his clothing was Katan and unremarkable. He nodded, then gestured at her homespun blouse and the laces on her bodice.

  “Loosen that up,” he said, and when she gazed at him in confusion, he reached over and did it himself. “Good, now unbutton a few buttons.” Blushing, she awkwardly obeyed.

  “That’s better,” he said, “And, Thia, if I act, um, unmannerly toward you, I’m only doing it so we won’t be noticed. Play along.”

  Thia’s eyes went wide, then she bit her lip and nodded.

  They went into the dimly lit tavern, and Jezzil stopped by the bar to order them a couple of glasses of strong, sourish wine. Thia, who had never tasted spirits before, made a face when she took her first sip. Jezzil shook his head at her warningly, and she squared her shoulders and took a second sip.

  The Chonao looked around the tavern. It was so dark that it took him a minute to spot Talis, wearing her ordinary masculine attire, seated beside the printer, Denno. They were in one of the back booths, talking to two men who were plainly steppes-born. Jezzil, who had been raised on the lowland plains, was relieved to see that. He’d been worried that they might be kinsmen, and that he might be recognized.

  He waited until the man in the adjoining booth began to slide sideways, then nudged Thia. She followed him to the now empty booth and they slid in, sitting back-to-back with the two Chonao. Jezzil was careful not to catch Talis’s eye.

  He put an arm around Thia, pulling her close to him, and began to nuzzle her hair, stopping only to sip his wine. She went rigid in the circle of his arm but did not pull away.

  “… cannot take chances with our leader,” Talis was saying, her voice pitched low, but not whispering. “Castio will meet with you, he told me to tell you that, but at a place of his choosing. We will lead you there, when the watch changes at the Governor’s palace. Meet us in the alley behind the Blue Boar.”

  “Lead us?” the taller of the two Chonao protested, in strongly accented Pelanese. “I like not that. We find our own way—”

  “You’ll be blindfolded,” Talis said at the same moment as the other Chonao said softly to his partner, in their own language, “Shut up, fool. She’s our only link to Castio. Let them have their little spy games!”

  Jezzil clumsily brushed his lips across Thia’s cheek. He’d never realized that women were so much softer-skinned than men …

  The second Chonao cleared his throat. His Pelanese was even worse than his companion’s. “Forgive my comrade,” he said haltingly, “soldiers, he and I, not … ambassador. We are not accustomed to … I forget the word … this kind of … mission.”

  “If you want to speak with Castio personally, it must be this way,” Denno said. “No exceptions.”

  Thia had relaxed slightly, curving her back so it fit into the circle of his arm. Jezzil gathered her closer, nuzzled her ear, and found himself touching the skin behind it with the tip of his tongue. She shivered but did not pull away.

  “So tell us what is going on with Kerezau,” Talis said.

  “How many troops does your Redai actually have?”

  “Many,” the first Chonao said curtly.

  “How many, the lady asked you?” Denno said. “If you’ve naught but a handful of seasick troops, you haven’t a hope of taking Pela, even if we Katans ally with you.”

  “Pela will be ours, rebel,” the second Chonao said curtly.

  “And Kata will be ours,” Talis said, an edge in her voice.

  “Of course,” the first Chonao said.

  “The Redai understands this,” the second Chonao added.

  Jezzil gathered Thia even closer, almost without thinking.

  Her hair brushed his nose. It was soft, feathery against his skin, his cheek, his mouth. The soft flesh of her upper arm was warm against his palm.

  The first Chonao must have raised his tankard. “A toast!”

  he exclaimed in Pelanese. “Our friendship.”

  “To our friendship,” echoed Talis and Denno.

  “To our victory,” the second Chonao said in his own tongue.

  Jezzil found himself softly kissing Thia’s cheek, his lips moving toward her mouth. Her skin was so soft, so pale, and she smelled faintly sweet, as though she had somehow mag-icked that sour wine into honey.

  She moved suddenly in his arms, pushing at him. “Jezzil!

  Jezzil! ”

  He opened his eyes and let her go, sitting back in the booth. “What? Wh—” His heart was hammering and he was so aroused he felt dazed, incoherent.

  She regarded him, wide-eyed and flushed. “Come on, we have to go.”

  “Go?” he repeated, trying to buy time. He didn’t want to stand up at the moment.

  “Did that wine go to your head?” She gestured at the booth behind him. “They’re gone! Talis signaled to me to meet her outside!”

  “Oh!” Heat scorched his face, but the embarrassment helped his other predicament. She slithered out of the booth and a moment later he followed her.

  Outside, the street was empty save for a few drunken sailors. Moments later they heard a soft hiss from the nearby alley and found Talis there, waiting for them. She was pacing agitatedly, using short steps to stay in the shadows. “What took you so long?” she challenged, then went on without waiting for an answer. “Jezzil, did they say anything? I don’t trust them. But I can’t go to Castio with just a hunch.”

  Jezzil ran back over the conversation in his mind. “Not really,” he said slowly. “But there was one remark, something about you being the only way to reach Castio, so they had to put up with your little spy game. It sounded …” He shrugged. “… not quite right,” he finished lamely.

  Talis scowled. “Hell spawn! I need something definite.

  Were they really Chonao?”

  “Yes.” Of that Jezzil had no doubt.

  “For a while I was wondering if perhaps they were Pelanese assassins, sent here to kill Castio. He’ll be surrounded by guards tonight, just in case.”

  “They were Chonao,” Jezzil said. “What would it profit them to kill Castio?”

  Thia spoke up for the first time. “They’d gain nothing by that,” she pointed out. “They need Castio. The Redai sent

  them as emissaries to Castio, to forge an alliance. Why should they kill him? That would just benefit King Agivir.”

  Jezzil glanced at her, experienced a strong flash of memory as he saw her lips, then felt himself flush. He was glad it was dark. She had avoided looking at him, he realized.

  “There’s nothing for it except for you to take them to Castio, making sure he’s well guarded,” Thia added. “Then, after the meeting, Jezzil can fo
llow them and listen to them.”

  “Can you?” Talis fixed Jezzil with an intent glance.

  He nodded. “Easily.”

  “You cannot be seen, much less caught,” she warned. “If they suspect, then we—”

  “You don’t understand,” Thia interrupted. “Show her, Jezzil.”

  Now that he knew the correct place in his mind, it was so easy.

  Jezzil stepped back, and as he did so, surrounded himself with the Casting. He saw Talis react, heard her gasp. “Goddess! He’s a sorcerer!”

  Jezzil dropped the Casting. “Barely a fledgling one,” he said. “But in addition to being able to Cast, I was Pen Jav Dal. I will follow them and listen to all they say, and I will not be seen.”

  After Talis left them, Jezzil insisted on escorting Thia back to Khith’s residence. He knew that, even now, she was afraid of large crowds and drunken men, and the streets were full of both. He had just time enough to gulp down the plate of food the housekeeper had saved for him before it was time to go back to the Blue Boar.

  He surrounded himself with a Casting and was careful to step softly when he reached the appointed alley. He saw the two Chonao waiting there, smoking pipes but not speaking.

  Talis came along a moment later, with Denno and another man. Jezzil watched as they blindfolded the two Chonao and escorted them along the back alleys toward the meeting place.

  Their destination proved to be a cellar down near the docks. The closer to the waterfront they went, the more noisome and narrow the alleys became. Jezzil was invisible, but his eyesight was the same as when he was visible, and he was not trailing the others closely enough to be able to pick his way by the faint, shuttered light of the dark lantern Talis carried.

  Once, he tripped over a dead cat, and his boot splashed into a pool of foul smelling liquid. Jezzil froze, breathing through his mouth.

  The two Chonao stopped dead.

  “What was that?” the taller one snapped.