She froze. Tylendel’s bed was unoccupied; she could see it through the door.
Don’t panic, old woman— she cautioned herself. Just do a bit of a trace, first—you’ve shared magic; you’ve got the line to his mind. See where it leads.
She found the little energy-link that said Tylendel and followed it back to where Tylendel himself was. It wasn’t very far. Still in the suite, in fact. In Vanyel’s room.
Vanyel’s room?
Her first reaction was to fling the door open and demand to know what was going on. Her second was to chuckle; with aura overtones like that she bloody well knew what was going on!
But—Vanyel? Gods have mercy. No sign he was shay’a’chern—
Then again, given Withen’s prejudices, he might have feared for a long time that the boy was fey. And Withen’s answer to that fear would have been—
Exactly what he’d been doing. Keeping the boy sheltered at home rather than fostering him out and trying to shove him in the direction Withen wanted. Trying to force the boy into a mold he was totally unsuited for. And he also might well have protected the boy from even the idea that same-sex pairings were possible. So the boy himself wouldn’t have known what he was—until he first found out about ’Lendel.
Which answered a great many questions indeed. The question now was—what had led to this, and what was it going to mean for the future?
She took a deep breath of the chilly, damp air, and groped her way back to her own room. No use rushing things; questioning could be done just as easily with herself lying in her own warm bed. Easier, actually, given how she felt.
She stripped herself down to the skin, promised her weary bones a bath later, and dragged on a bedgown before crawling into the blankets. The warm blankets, and she blessed Tylendel’s thoughtfulness for putting the warming spell on her bed before he’d taken to his own. Or—whatever.
She settled herself comfortably, and reached out a thin tendril of Mindspeech in Private-mode. If the imp was awake—
He was.
:Savil?: came the sleep-blurred thought, dense with a feeling of contentment. :Thought I heard you come in. Found me, hmm?:
:Aye. And I have a pile of questions.: She shifted herself until her left shoulder stopped aching quite so much. :The only important one is, how did you talk him into it?:
:I didn’t. It was all Van’s idea.:
She almost lost the Mindspeech thread with her start of surprise, and had to grope after it. :Sounds like I really missed something! What in the name of the Havens happened last night?:
:Too much to talk about now.: There were overtones of mental and physical weariness to his Mind-voice. :But he’s going to be all right, Savil. We did more than—just the physical. I think we must have talked for hours, before and after. He handed me the key to himself, and he wanted me to have it.:
She raised a sardonic mental eyebrow. :’Lendel—I don’t want to drench you with cold water, but may I remind you of what happened the last time morning arrived with you in someone else’s bed?:
:It’s all right, Savil, it really is this time.: A feeling of faint surprise. :You know, you’re always teasing me about falling in love—but—I don’t know, this feels different.:
Savil snorted. :Right; it always does. No, don’t let an old cynic disturb you.:
:Teacher—I think this is going to be something more than just a one-time; I think he needs me.:
:Oh, Havens. All right, if that’s the way you think it’s going—just let me know in the morning if you plan to move in with him. Or him with you, though his is the better chamber. We could use a spare for guests.:
Flavor of laughter like crisp apples. :You just want my room back.:
:If you aren’t using it—seriously, ’Lendel, this is important. I want to have a long talk with him when I get up, and I want you there. He really should know what he’s letting himself in for as shay’a’chern. I don’t think we should let that get out, and I’ll Mindspeak with you on that before we talk with him. Hmm—cancel your classes this morning; I’m too tired, and I have the feeling you weren’t exactly early to sleep.:
Another apple-feeling of laughter, and the mind-link faded. And she let exhaustion pull her down into a slumber that she really didn’t want, not anymore.
One last thought before sleep came.
Great good gods, what am I going to tell Withen?
• • •
Tylendel raised himself up on his elbow and looked down at the slumbering boy beside him. Rest had repaired the damages that several hours of soul-wrenching weeping had done to Vanyel’s face; relaxed, and with all his barriers down, he looked as innocent as an unawakened child—
—which he was, as Tylendel now knew quite intimately, not. Not in any way; except, perhaps, his vulnerability.
“Van,” he whispered, touching his shoulder, and feeling just a faint chill of apprehension despite his words to his mentor, “can you wake up a little?”
Vanyel stirred, wrinkled his nose, and half-opened his eyes. And when he saw who was beside him, he smiled with heart-stopping sweetness. With all his masks gone, he was as charming as he was beautiful.
“Hmm?” he said, blinking, as Tylendel felt a surge of relief and gratitude that this was not going to be a repeat of the infamous Nevis affair.
“Want a roommate?”
“You—why?”
He grinned; he knew now that you had to show Van that something was a joke, or often he’d taken it seriously. “Savil seems to want my room back—for guests, she says. Besides, I like your company.”
Vanyel’s reply, though not verbal, was a definite and unmistakable affirmative.
• • •
“We have,” Savil said dryly, “several problems, here.”
She’d had that Mindspeech conference with Tylendel as she’d gotten herself put together for the day. Nice thing, Mindspeech; let you cover more than one thing at once. And after giving it thorough consideration while she bathed, she decided to have her “little talk” with Vanyel in his room. With any luck, he’d feel less threatened there.
She did usurp the most comfortable chair in the room, though. The privilege of age, she told herself, waiting for the two young men to settle themselves. Without seeming to consult about it, Tylendel sat on the edge of the bed, and Vanyel arranged himself cross-legged on the floor at his feet.
And the flexibility of youth. Would that I could still do that! The body language gave her spirits a lift, though; the way Vanyel had positioned himself was interesting. At Tylendel’s feet, below both her head and his lover’s. That could well show he’d given up that pose of arrogant superiority. Very interesting.
I wonder if having a steady lover at his side might well give ’Lendel something to think about besides his twin and that damned feud. On the other hand—this lad’s been so affection-starved—this could be another sort of trouble.
“Yes, indeed, we have quite a few little problems here,” she repeated.
Tylendel nodded at her words; Vanyel looked puzzled, at first, then thoughtful.
“The first problem and the one that’s going to tie in to all the others, Vanyel, is your father.” She paused, and Vanyel bit his lip. “I’m sure that you realize that if he finds out about this, he is going to react badly.”
Vanyel coughed, and bowed his head, hiding his face for a moment. When he looked back up, he was wearing a weary, ironic half-smile, a smile that had as much pain in it as humor. It was, far and away, the most open expression Savil had ever seen him wear.
“‘Badly’ is something of an understatement, Aunt,” he replied, rubbing his temple with one finger. “He’ll—gods, I can’t predict what he’ll do, but he’ll be in a rage, that’s for certain.”
“He’ll pull you home, Van,” Tylendel said in a completely flat voice. “And he can do it; you’re not of age,
you aren’t Chosen, and you aren’t in Bardic.”
“And I can’t protect you,” Savil sighed, wishing that she could. “I can stall him off for a while, seeing as he officially turned guardianship of you over to me, but it won’t last more than a couple of months. Then—well, I’ll give you my educated guess as to what Withen will do. I think he’ll put you under house arrest long enough for everybody to forget about you, then find himself a compliant priest and ship you off to a temple. Probably one far away, with very strict rules about outside contact. There are, I’m sorry to say, several sects who hold that shay’a’chern are tainted. They’d be only too happy to ‘purify’ you for Withen and Withen’s gold. And under the laws of this kingdom, none of us could save you from them.”
Vanyel nodded; by the startled agreement in his eyes, Savil reckoned that this was a speculation he’d entertained before this, although for different causes. “So is there anything I can do?” he asked quietly.
“Obviously,” she said, “Or I wouldn’t be talking to you now. But you aren’t going to like the solution to your problem. It’s pretty heartbreakingly simple. Outside of this room, Vanyel, nothing is to change.”
“But—” He twisted his head around to see what Tylendel thought about this, only to find that his lover was nodding, in complete agreement with her.
“Savil’s right, Van,” Tylendel said sadly.
“But—” Vanyel protested, holding out one hand toward him in entreaty, then turning the same pleading eyes on Savil when Tylendel shook his head.
“Mardic and Donni are discreet, and I’d trust Margret to keep what she knows behind her teeth even under torture, but if you want to stay here, Vanyel, you won’t say or do anything to betray your relationship to ’Lendel. The moment people start to talk, it’ll get back to your father.”
“The quickest way to make them talk, love,” Tylendel said in what was almost a whisper, “is to change. Is to even be friendlier to me than you have been. You told me the girls told you I was a pervert.” Vanyel’s eyes widened at Tylendel’s directness. “It can’t have escaped your notice how they sniggered and giggled about it, and they were being polite. My preferences are not generally socially acceptable. There are only two reasons why I have as little trouble as I do. The first is that I’m a Herald-trainee, and Heralds are allowed a bit more license than ordinary mortals. And my patron is Savil. She just happens to outrank everybody in the Circle except the Queen’s Own.”
“And the other reason?” Vanyel said in a very subdued voice.
What stretched Tylendel’s mouth was something less than a smile. “The fact that I took a couple of the worst offenders on and kept knocking them down until they didn’t get up.”
“Oh.”
Tylendel caught up one of his hands in both of his own. “I know you want everyone to know about us. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. But it will mean a lot more to me to know you were going to be able to stay with me.”
“And to do that, young Vanyel,” Savil said, intruding into the intense interaction between them, “you are going to have to begin a performance a Master Player couldn’t equal. ’Lendel and I have been talking about you this afternoon.”
From the complete astonishment on his face, Savil could tell that he hadn’t guessed they’d been in conference via Mindspeech. For that matter, it might be that he didn’t know they both had that Gift.
“We share the Mindspeech Gift, lad, and it’s damned useful at times like this. He’s told me some of what you told him, and it rather changed my mind about you. But I will not lie to you; I’m going to help you because he wants it, because he wants you here. So now I’m going to order you; outside of this suite you are to be the same arrogant little bastard that arrived here. And if you can manage to be slightly rude to ’Lendel, that’s even better. And in return, I’ll make this suite a little sanctuary for the two of you. Is it a bargain?”
Vanyel, who had gone rather pale, gulped, and nodded.
Savil smiled for the first time since she’d begun this conference.
“That’s a good lad. If you’re half of what ’Lendel claims for you, I’m going to come to like you a great deal, and I’m sorry for the treatment you’ve had from your father. I’ll tell you that he isn’t the same person I knew when I was Chosen. He’s gone stiff and stubborn, and altogether hidebound. Maybe it’s age; maybe it’s that a lot of his old friends have taken the Long Walk and he’s seeing Death looking for him, too. Maybe it’s that priest he’s gotten tied up with—I just don’t know.” She coughed. “Well, that’s not to the point; what is to the point is that you’ll only have to keep up this charade until you’re eighteen; you’ll be your own man then, and can do what you please. And I’ll see to it that ’Lendel begins having trouble with his Mage-lessons.” She winked, and Tylendel chortled. “I think we can keep him out of Whites until you’re of age. After that,” if this love affair lasts that long, “you’ll have to make your decisions on your own. Fair enough?”
“More than fair, Aunt Savil.” Vanyel looked very subdued, and quite unlike the boy that had faced her something like a month ago. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
:’Lendel, what is it about him?: she Mindspoke, letting her puzzlement drift over.
:No masks,: came the immediate answer. :This is the real Vanyel, dearheart. The one nobody but me—and maybe his sister—has seen. Now see why I love him?:
The last thought stopped her cold. :Are you that sure, ke’chara? Are you really that sure?:
His eyes caught hers over Vanyel’s head; caught and held them. :I’m that sure.:
:And him?:
:I don’t know; but he was willing to defy his father for me, and I think that says something.:
She closed her own eyes against that burning, intense gaze. :Then may the gods help and guard you.:
She turned her attention back to Vanyel, and quickly. He was still looking toward Tylendel, and the very same look was in his eyes—and a vulnerability and apprehension that cut at her heart.
“I’ll help you all I can, son,” she said quietly. “I’ll help you all I can.”
CHAPTER 6
“DON’T GO YET,” Tylendel said abruptly, as Vanyel picked himself up off the floor. Vanyel gave him a look of uncertainty. He was still too new to this—being open. He was still waiting for blows that never came.
But Tylendel seemed to know that.
“It’s all right, Van,” he said softly. “It’s really all right. I have a good reason.”
“I’ve got a lesson,” he protested. “History, and I’m still behind the other three.”
Tylendel made a wry face. “You’re a law unto yourself, remember? At least that’s what you’re supposed to be acting like. You skipped your lessons this morning, skip the rest of them today; tell ’em you were sick. Tell ’em the storm last night gave you a headache.”
“But—”
“It’s important,” Tylendel coaxed. “Really, it is. More important than that history lesson. If you’re behind, I’ll coach you. Please?”
It didn’t take much encouragement from Tylendel to get him to do what he already wanted to do; lessons were hardly as attractive as more of Tylendel’s company. Here he wasn’t going to be hurt. Here—someone cared for him. It was as heady as a little too much wine, only without the hangover.
Vanyel closed the door to his room, then turned an expectant face toward his lover, poised with one hand still on the latch.
Tylendel stretched lazily, reaching for the ceiling with his head tilted back. Then he dropped his arms, rose from his seat on the bed, and walked over to put his hand behind Vanyel’s shoulder.
“There’s somebody I want you to meet,” he said, gently pushing Vanyel in the direction of the room’s outside door.
“But—” Vanyel protested weakly. “I thought—”
“You’re awfully fo
nd of that word ‘but,’ love,” Tylendel chuckled. “What does it take to get you to say something else?”
He opened the door, still without enlightening Vanyel as to the reason why he was going to introduce Vanyel to someone after Savil had just got done telling them both that they were to keep the relationship a secret—
—and Tylendel had agreed with her.
Vanyel started to protest again, realized that the only thing he could think of to say was “but,” and subsided, as Tylendel guided him out the door to the gardens beyond.
“You see that bridge?” Tylendel pointed northward to the first of the two bridges crossing the Terilee River on the Palace grounds. “And that stand of pines on the other side?”
Vanyel nodded; it was quite a healthy grove, in fact, and the trees extended a good distance back into the Field. They were tall, very thick, and a deep green that was almost black, with huge branches that drooped beneath their own weight until they touched the ground.
“You count to fifty after you see me go in there, then you follow,” Tylendel ordered. “In case anybody happens to come by, though, or looks out a window, you’d better try your hand at acting the arrogant little prig.”
Vanyel nodded again; completely mystified, but willing to go along with about anything that Tylendel wanted. He posed himself carefully, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, attempting to look as if he were simply idling about in the gardens, while Tylendel sauntered off.
This is going to be harder than it was before, he thought somberly, trying to look anywhere except after Tylendel. I didn’t have anything to lose, before. Now I have everything to lose if I slip. He closed his eyes, and turned his face up to the sun, as if he were savoring the warmth. But if I don’t slip—oh, gods, whichever one of you is responsible for this—it’s worth anything. I swear, it’s worth anything you ask of me!
The Last Herald-Mage Trilogy Page 14