He didn’t move, his eyes boring into me. “But I don’t want to just – use you. I’d feel weird about that. It’s more fun if you want it too, and if you don’t—”
“Mal, don’t make this more complicated than it needs to be! You’ve made me feel guilty about saying no, now you’re making me feel guilty about saying yes.”
His face creased, almost as if he were going to cry.
“Sorry. Sorry,” I said. “I’m not very good at this – being properly married. I don’t like agonising over something so simple. I’ve said you can lie with me whenever you want and I meant that, just don’t expect me always to jump on you with the same enthusiasm. Sometimes it’s the burning flames of passion, sometimes it’s just a friendly cuddle.”
I could see him turning that over in his mind. Then his mouth twisted in a half smile. “I’ll go for the friendly cuddle, then. But you would tell me if you really don’t want to?”
I nodded, and he settled down to business again. I tried not to think about Ish.
~~~~~
My nephews were already there when we drifted down for morning table. They were working their way through plates of herrings and clams, and chatting away to Lenya and her horse-master as if they’d known them all their lives.
Arin and Drin had always had charm, inherited from their mother. Luca was the second oldest of my sisters, and the nicest by far. She was twenty years older than me, and had married early, so Arin was only a few moons younger than I was, and Drin a year or so behind. We’d played together a great deal as children, and I’d delighted in calling them ‘nephew’ at every opportunity, and they’d gleefully called me ‘aunt’.
I hadn’t thought much about my family while I was at Carrinshar. I’d had little energy to spare beyond surviving from one day to the next, and then from one moon to the next, and when I did have a moment to myself, my mind drifted to Ish. I supposed I’d have missed them more if I’d been close to them, but they were so much older than me, adults before I was born, most of them. My sisters had all left long before I grew up, Til to be a herbalist, Luca and Sora to marry outside the family and Wena because she married and failed to prove. Of my two brothers, Dern had disappeared when I was nine and Ban died when I was eleven.
Dern was the only one I’d thought about sometimes in my exile. I had no idea why he’d suddenly run off at the age of sixteen. There’d been no quarrel, no sign of trouble, nothing to suggest a problem. He’d had a new tutor from Bennamore, an older man that he’d got on with very well. He’d disappeared at the same time, so there was obviously something between them, but all investigations in Bennamore proved fruitless.
I’d never understood at the time why Dern would have just gone off and left us all like that, but when I had my own reasons for leaving I felt some sympathy with him. I’d often wondered where he went, and whether one day he’d turn up with a wife and a string of children in tow, very much proved, and resume his place as my father’s heir.
Arin and Drin wrapped me in bone-cracking embraces, and kissed me and exclaimed over how well I looked. They were always free with compliments.
“But what are you both doing here? No Shannamar ships were scheduled this moon. Do you have business with the Holder?”
They exchanged glances. “We came to see you, of course.”
“But… how did you know where I was?”
“Holder Dristomar sent word. Did he not tell you? He thought your father would be pleased to know you were safe. Which he was, of course. I’ve never seen him in tears before, Fen. So he sent us to fetch you back – or at least to send a report of your circumstances. When we arrived, we went straight to the Hold, and the Holder sent us here, where we found that you were missing.”
In all that, I caught at just one strand. “The Holder sent word?” I whispered. Ish had told my father where I was. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Was he being considerate or betraying me?
“It was thoughtful of him,” Arin added. “We’ve all been worried, Fen.”
I talked more at that morning’s table than I had in a month, gossiping like a girl with Arin and Drin, telling them of my life in Carrinshar, and catching up on all the family news. My father was unexpectedly happy, it appeared, with his new wife and two sons, the eldest now approaching adulthood and a very adept heir. A sensible council of advisors had been put in place to guide him after my father’s death, although that was not expected soon. For a man of eighty-four he was remarkably robust.
“Still, he could go to the Goddess any day,” Arin said, “so it is as well to be prepared.”
They ran through all my sisters’ news, of children and grandchildren and their professions and lovers and illnesses and a few deaths, until my head was spinning.
“And you never hear anything of Dern?” I asked them.
“Not a word. It is as if he turned into sea-foam. Mind you, I hardly remember him, do you? He could be walking among us every day, and no one would know him. So, aunt, will you come back to Shannamar with us?”
I shook my head, my mouth full of bread slathered in honey. “Can’t.”
Arin and Drin exchanged glances. “Your father—”
“Has no claim on me.” I chewed and swallowed hastily. “Even if he had, I have a contract with the mages, and a contract with my husband.”
Another glance. “Neither is an insuperable obstacle,” Arin said. “Your contract can be bought off, and your husband will be welcome at Shannamar too.”
“No.” I hoped my tone was firm enough to convince them.
Mal’s sat expressionless, not watching us as he ploughed through a heaped plate of cold meat and cheese.
Arin’s gaze flicked from me to Mal, then back to me. He licked his lips, as if about to speak, then shrugged. “As you wish. I will send word of your response to Holder Shannamar.”
“Send? You will not be leaving?”
“Our instructions are not to return without you.” He grinned boyishly. “We will stay until ordered elsewhere. Or until Convocation, anyway. Plenty of time to enjoy the delights of Dristomar.”
Once everyone had eaten their fill, the servants cleared the table but we sat on, discussing all that had happened. Hestaria told her story first, of how she had been drawn in to Ish’s inner circle with flattery, but then they had wanted her to use her magic in unusual ways.
“They wanted to be able to persuade people to do things – sign trade agreements, that sort of thing. It was… odd. But I could never do it, naturally.”
“Naturally,” I said. “That would be a dreadful thing to do, to use magic for gain in that way.”
She giggled. “I suppose… but I meant only that I do not have that power. It is not within our range of spells. But of course I did not like to admit that to them.”
“So you couldn’t give them what they wanted, but you didn’t bother to explain that to them? So they locked you up to force you to do it anyway? And you still didn’t explain?”
“Of course I did then!” she squeaked, outraged. “But they refused to believe it.” Everyone stared at her, and she crumpled, fighting back tears. “I wanted to help,” she whispered. “I believed there might be a way. But they thought I was just stringing them along.”
Into the silence that followed this confession, the rat-tat-tat of the door knocker sounded like a hammer in my skull. I jumped.
“What now?” Losh muttered, with uncharacteristic impatience. We’d all had a difficult time of it, and even the most even-tempered must have limits of endurance.
We waited, while the house controller’s measured steps passed down the hallway, the door creaked open, a murmur of voices could be heard. The door creaked closed. More footsteps.
The door opened slowly and the house controller appeared.
“Very Honourable Dristomar and Very Honourable Moon Dristomar.”
She stood aside, and Ish and Tarn stood framed in the doorway.
27: A Meeting
To say there was general aston
ishment would be an understatement. My mind was whirling. Why hadn’t we heard the arrival of Ish’s usual squad of Defenders? Why in the deeps had they just knocked on the door like casual visitors, instead of sending a runner ahead to alert the household? And what was the matter with Ish? He looked bewildered, like a boy who’s been wakened from sleep for some family crisis and isn’t quite alert yet.
Tarn, fortunately, was her usual self. I was amused that the house controller had insisted on the correct title this time when she announced her. Even servants know what is proper for the former Holder. She bounced in and gazed around at us all, with an amused twinkle in her eyes.
The Bennamorians made the slight inclinations of the head that were all they seemed able to manage, no matter how important the visitor, while I went into the full bow of deference. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two wives from the Hold doing the same, their faces white. I guessed that Arin and Drin, somewhere behind me, were making the modified version to signal their Holding family status.
“Oh, do stand up straight, Fen! No need for formality amongst friends. Well, well, so many people. I think we can dispense with most of you. We shall only need the mages and Fen, I believe.” Arin coughed discreetly. “And the respected guests from Shannamar, of course. The rest of you may go.”
“I need Corsell here,” Losh said firmly. “He is my advisor.”
“Very well, but the others—”
“Mal stays,” I said.
Tarn gave me a long look, then a longer one at Mal, but nodded. The rest of them trooped out, and Tarn shut the door with a firm click behind them.
“Still quite a lot of you, so we will have to try not to devolve into a shouting match. However, we do need to discuss a few things.”
We could all agree with that. Ish had a great deal to answer for. Still, I sighed inwardly. I’d harboured the hope that all the talking would be done with before noon, so that Mal and I could sneak off for that platter meal he’d promised me before I’d been tossed into the dungeons.
Tarn opened the door again. The house controller was loitering just outside. “Wine, if you please, and some cakes. Or whatever you have. Something sweet.”
Then she shut the door again. “Come along, come along, do sit down, everyone.”
We had all been standing around like statues, paralysed by the abrupt entry of the two Holders. Now we shuffled obediently into chairs. We fell naturally into two groupings, the four mages and Corsell on one side of the table, and the Holding people on the other, with Mal hovering awkwardly between the two, waiting until I sat down before grabbing the chair next to me.
Ish dithered too, then took the seat on the other side of me. “I didn’t hear you arrive,” I said. “Where are your Defenders?”
“Aunt Tarn thought we would not need them for such a short walk. I have brought only my two personal guards.”
“You walked?” Goddess, they were being informal indeed.
He nodded, and again he had that bewildered look on his face. Then he gave a sheepish little half smile. “I am glad you are all right, Fen.” He reached along the table for my hand.
I snatched it out of his grasp. “No thanks to you!”
“I know,” he whispered, his expression crumpling.
I wasn’t looking at Mal but I heard his snicker of amusement. Normally that would have irritated me, but today my bile was all directed at Ish.
The house controller came back very quickly with supplies for us, and she and two girls silently handed round wine and sweetmeats.
“No cakes?” Tarn said.
“Not for an hour or so, Honourable.”
“Well, bring them in when you have them. These will do for now.”
I wondered whether a servant would be sent out in haste to find some cakes, or whether the cooks were rushing about with flour and honey, and busily chopping fruit. I’d never seen anything of the sort in the house, only hard biscuits and doughy buns. With the blindness of the nobility, Tarn hadn’t even thought where the cakes were to come from, or how inconvenient it might be. A few years ago, I would have been the same.
Tarn sat herself down at the furthest end of the table. “Now, if you all move down this end, we can be cosy and not have to shout so much. There, Ish, you sit next to me, and Mage Losh here. Much better.”
We all shifted down a few seats until we were gathered around Tarn, who beamed at us as if we’d accomplished something clever. It was clear who was in charge here.
“Now,” she began, “we are all shocked by what has happened to Fen and Mal. I don’t know the details but it seems to have been most unpleasant. I am pleased you are both so well recovered.”
She didn’t look pleased, though. I remembered that she’d had an eye for Mal herself. Perhaps she already knew of our changed relationship and was annoyed about it. If so, her spy in the house was extremely efficient.
“I am also delighted to see that Mage Hestaria has been found at last. The Goddess knows I have myself searched in every corner of the Hold. Well, not every corner, obviously. My knowledge is deficient, it appears. We will hear all about your adventures, dear, but first we must go back a little way, to the turmoil of last year.”
Adventures? That was a strange gloss to put on Hestaria’s incarceration. Part of me felt I should dislike Tarn strongly for such a glib attitude, but somehow I couldn’t. I still trusted her implicitly. Even though I told myself this was no more than a connection, a distortion, yet I couldn’t shake it off. I was not alone. Everyone else sat quietly, smiling and nodding, letting her have her say.
She told the same story that she’d told me, that the Bennamorian High Commander had come to the Holders’ Convocation and proposed a peace treaty, which everyone had accepted without demur.
“He talked to the Holders from each of the three Greater Holdings, but he settled on Dristomar as the most important for his plans, because of our magnificent harbour. And it seems—” Here she turned and glowered at Ish. “It seems he had other, secret, talks.”
Ish had the grace to look ashamed. In another time I might have sprung to his defence – it wasn’t unusual to have private talks going on as well as the more public meetings – but just then I was happy to see him squirm.
“He was very astute, the High Commander,” Ish said, his voice low, head down, not looking us in the eye. “He saw the disadvantage in the arrangement we have here – the autonomy of each individual Holding, the disunity, despite the alliances. He was aware – I have no idea how – of the plan we had twenty years ago to unite Shannamar and Dristomar, so he came to me.”
Still he didn’t raise his head. It was disturbing, this new, humble Ish. I’d never seen him like this, as if all the life had been squashed out of him.
“He told me that—” He lifted his head abruptly and turned to Tarn. “Are you quite sure we need to explain all this?”
“It is for the best, dear.” She patted his hand reassuringly. “Trust me, everyone here is on our side.”
He brightened a little. “Of course. Well then, the idea was to unite all the Holdings under one ruler—”
“You!” I burst out.
“Yes, me. Why not?” he said huffily. “If there has to be one leader, as well me as anyone else, and Aunt Tarn was… less malleable. He made me send her away, so that she would not interfere.”
Tarn looked impassive, so I guessed she knew this already.
“I would be king, he said, and he could make it happen. He would convince everyone to join together, but he needed to back that up with ships. Bennamore has an army, but no ships and he realised he needed a navy at his command. He made me Holder to convince me that he had the ability to make people do whatever he said. You look sceptical, Fen, but I assure you he could do it. He was a mage, he had that power.”
“It is true,” Losh said sadly. “He used that power on Bennamore, too – on the Drashon, on the Nobles’ Council, on the guard Commanders. It had no effect on other mages, but it worked on everyone els
e.”
And probably it had no effect on Tarn. Her connection would have made her immune. Although she had seemed quite happy with the idea of the sword ships when she’d talked to me about it.
“But then he died – was killed. I am not sure quite what happened…”
Losh quirked an eyebrow. “We are not quite sure ourselves.”
“Oh. Anyway, we saw no reason not to go ahead. We had the money and the plans for the sword ships, Convocation had already been primed, all we needed was another mage to make me king. I thought Mage Hestaria would oblige, but…”
“I wanted to help, really I did.” She stretched an arm across the table, as if to take his hand, but he jumped back as if a burning log had spat at him.
My anger raged in me like a boiling cauldron. “So you turned your charms on her, too, I suppose?”
Ish spread his hands in appeal. “I needed her. Or another mage. Mage Kael has been very friendly—”
Losh rose slowly from his seat, his face dark and grim. He was such an affable man as a rule, especially towards me, that it was shocking to see him shaking with anger.
“You will have nothing to do with Kael, do you understand, little man?” His voice, normally so calm, seemed to rumble around the room like thunder.
Ish nodded violently.
Silence.
Losh leaned heavily on the table and sat down. When he spoke again, his tone was calm and level.
“There is something you should know about the late High Commander. His power was unique to him. No other mage can stand in front of a room full of people and convince them all. One, perhaps, face to face. But he could persuade any number of people that the moon was made of solid gold. If he had asked them to walk off a cliff, they would have done it. No other mage has that ability, or anywhere close. Your plan was doomed from the moment the High Commander died.”
There was a long silence as we all digested that. Tarn looked appalled, and Ish not much less so. I wondered just what terrible deeds he had done in working towards his objective that were now proved to be futile.
The Mages of Bennamore Page 29