Betrayals

by Sharon Green

  The only ones who wear those costumes are useless, mindless fops—something I don't happen to be."

  "What you will be is what you once were," Mother re-plied coldly, seating herself stiffly without taking her equally cold stare from his face. "You've now had time to consider the problem I put to you, just as I've had time to consider it. Is there anything you'd care to say to me before I tell you what decision I've come to?"

  Rion felt his blood icing up to match the rest of his insides, wishing fervently that it could be possible to get up and pace. Mother's declaration about having made a deci­sion wasn't good, since there was now no doubt that he would have to beg to be allowed to keep his mind intact. Most of him wanted to do just that, beg and grovel and do anything else necessary to save himself, but that new part of him ... It refused to let him abase himself in any way, even if he paid for the lack with his wits and sanity.

  "I'm waiting, Clarion," Mother prompted, a gleam now evident in her light eyes. "I can see that you want to be a good bey, but you must be much more open and clear about it. Tell Mother your decision now, and be certain you do it in the manner which will please her the most."

  "Very well, Mother," Rion found himself saying, the words impossible to hold back. "You've asked to hear my decision, so here it is: I'm not any sort of bey, and you sound an absolute fool referring to yourself in the third per­son. Only someone of real importance should be spoken of in that way, which means you simply don't qualify. And to make my position perfectly clear, allow me to say that even your peasant ancestors would turn away from the sight of you in disgust."

  "How dare you!" she hissed in a strangled voice, all the blood having drained from her face before it came rushing back to show her extreme outrage. "How dare you even consider speaking to me so, not to mention actually doing it! Have you decided that I'm joking, that I won't have you punished terribly for attempting to disobey me? If so, pre­pare yourself to be disillusioned. Ditras, send to the stable­men's quarters for Hafner to attend me at once! Lord Clarion requires another dose of his sedative, and afterward he will also require a beating."

  His mother's expression had turned triumphant, which would have sickened Rion if he hadn't already felt so ill. Hafner was a giant of a man with incredible strength and the mind of a child, a longtime servant of Mother's who would do exactly as she commanded. Ditras had hesitated a very long moment before bowing his reluctant acquiescence to the order, during which time Rion had tried to struggle to his feet. His body felt as though it weighed ten times what it should, but he couldn't simply sit there and allow himself to be turned into a broken toy—

  "I don't think sending for other people is a very good idea," a female voice said suddenly, a voice Rion had feared that he would never hear again. "I've always preferred small, cozy groups like this one, with no more than five people in them. No, don't get up. I won't be staying long enough to require courtesies."

  "How did you get in here?" Mother demanded of Tamrissa after shooting to her feet, her back ruler-straight and her face registering shocked outrage. "I was assured I would never have to be dirtied by the presence of your sort again—! Rovelon, run and fetch the guard at once! And when you return you may pack your belongings and go without an­other copper in pay, in punishment for having admitted her in the first place!"

  "But, my lady, I didn't!" Rovelon protested wildly, shrinking back as far from Tamrissa as it was possible to go. "I simply opened the door to a knock as I was supposed to do, and she ... forced her way in over my protests! She also required me to lead her in here, and how was I sup­posed to refuse?"

  "Perhaps I'm mistaken, but you do appear to be larger than the trollop," Mother returned acidly as she glared at the quivering man. "Take her by the hair if necessary, but remove her from my presence at once!"

  "I hadn't realized how really stupid you are," Tamrissa commented to Mother as she stopped beside Rion to take his hand and touch his face. "Anyone else would have re­alized immediately that something other than physical size is involved here. Just be easy, Rion. We'll be gone from this place in another minute or two."

  "You are not taking my son from me a second time!" Mother shouted as Rion's heart leaped in happiness, the woman's face going even more red. "This time I'll see you sent to the deep mines, a place I know you'll never return from! Ditras, Rovelon—!"

  "That's enough!" Tamrissa snapped as she straightened, and her return glare was accompanied by long tongues of flame burning the air between her and the two male servants. "Not only won't you two interfere, you'll come over here and help Lord Rion to the front door. If you try anything else, it will be the last thing you ever try. And as for you...."

  Tamrissa turned to Mother with that, and Rion could see how the older woman had paled. She also fought not to cringe from the awful strength Tamrissa had displayed, but wasn't completely successful.

  "As for you, you'll have the chance to call the guard once we've gone," Tamrissa continued, her voice implacable. "If you do, you'll find out just what 'vindictive' means. They won't really have a chance against me, and if I have to burn them, I'll come back to do the same to you. Even if I have to follow you halfway across the empire to do it. We ... trollops are like that. Do you understand me?"

  Mother nodded spasmodically, the fear in her eyes some-thing Rion had never expected to see. For once in her life, Mother was being wise. She made no effort to call Tamrissa a liar, as anyone with eyes and the sense of a nit could see that the beautiful girl wasn't bluffing. If Mother forced Tamrissa to kill a group of guardsmen, Mother would pay for it with her own life.

  "All right, it's time for us to leave," Tamrissa said briskly, looking back to the two servants. "Come over here and help this man."

  Rovelon looked as though he were trying to turn invisible as he came forward reluctantly, but Ditras obeyed without hesitation—and with hooded satisfaction in his eyes. The two men helped Rion to his feet, where Rion paused to look at Mother one last time.

  "You had best hope that I truly am maimed in my talent," he said in the coldest voice he was capable of, all the loathing he felt undoubtedly clear in his eyes. "If I'm not and we happen to meet again, I'll rid this world of your evil even if the act has to be paid for with my own life."

  Rion had the satisfaction of seeing her go chalk white, after which he paid attention to forcing his body into moving properly. Apparently she'd believed him, which would hopefully keep her from interfering in his life again. In point of fact he'd never be able to harm her, despite what she'd done—and had planned to do—to him. For too many years she'd been the heart and spirit and anchor of his life, and one doesn't easily get over that.

  Nor was it easy to reach the front door. The house had never seemed so large before, and it felt as though he trudged miles before reaching his destination. Sweat stood out on his face and he leaned heavily on the two men as­sisting him, but the thought of stopping even for a brief rest never entered his mind. He was on the way to being free again, and that end was worth any price he might be re­quired to pay.

  "Don't worry, Rion, we're almost there," Tamrissa said from where she walked just ahead, turning to look at him with the worry she'd suggested he not have. "The coach is right outside, so you'll be sitting down again soon. Are you all right?"

  "Better than I've been in days, actually," Rion panted in answer, then he tried a grin. "And allow me to say how lovely you look in that gown."

  "Oh, you," she half scolded with a relieved laugh. "Just save your strength for walking."

  That seemed like an eminently sensible idea, so Rion complied without argument. When he and the men holding him up reached the door, Tamrissa had already opened it.

  "Now take him to the coach and put him inside," she ordered, most of her attention on him rather than them. "And I have to say that I don't understand how you men can work for a woman like that. Personally, I'd rather starve."

  "When a man has a family, he's forced to do any number of unpleasant things to see
them fed," Ditras replied after a moment, making no effort to meet her gaze. "I might well choose the same starvation, but I have no right to ask my family to."

  "No capable man willing to work will ever starve," Tam­rissa returned, having gone ahead to open the coach door. "If you haven't looked for a job that doesn't turn your stom­ach, it isn't because of your family, it's because you don't believe in yourself. And the only one who can change that situation is you."

  This time Ditras made no reply, but Rion was pleased to see that the man appeared to be thinking about what he'd heard. Chances were excellent that both he and Rovelon would now find themselves unemployed, as Mother would want no one around to remind her of her embarrassment. Not getting her own way had always been furiously embar­rassing to Mother, even though it had rarely happened....

  Climbing into the coach was almost more than Rion could accomplish, but the delightful shock of seeing Naran await­ing him inside helped him to tap unsuspected reservoirs of strength. The servants pushed from behind and Naran took his hand and pulled, and the next moment he sat beside her on the coach seat with his arms about her. As he'd never thought to hold her like this again, the experience went far beyond mere pleasure.

  "Thank you, gentlemen, and good luck to you," Rion heard Tamrissa say. He looked up in time to see her hand a coin to each of the servants, which put shocked expres­sions on their faces. Ditras recovered quickly enough to as­sist Tamrissa into the coach, then their driver had started them moving away from the house and back down the drive.

  "I gave each of them a gold din," Tamrissa said with satisfaction as she settled herself on the seat opposite. "I'd originally meant to give them silver, but I have the feeling they'll be needing the gold."

  "May I ask where you got the gold?" Rion put in, for the most part occupied with how wonderful it felt to be holding Naran again. "And for that matter, where did you two marvelous delights come from? I was certain I was very much on my own."

  "I knew where Tamrissa was being held, so I simply took this coach there and waited for her to escape," Naran re­plied, snuggling even more closely to him. "I would have had no chance of freeing you all by myself, otherwise I would have come here first. Are you all right, my love? She didn't torment you completely beyond bearing, did she?"

  "The situation was about to turn considerably worse," Rion replied with a smile, refusing to think about might-have-beens. "The thing disturbing me most, though, is the way my mother spoke about my talent being permanently damaged. She said it has to do with my having been pulled out of the Blending so abruptly, and the truth is I... can't reach the power no matter how hard I try...."

  Speaking the words had been very difficult for Rion, the fear being a good deal more manageable while those words remained unspoken. His talent was all he possessed in the world; without it he would be useless, less than a man and completely unworthy of the woman he loved so ...

  "You can't reach the power because of the hilsom pow­der," Tamrissa said quickly, reaching across to touch his hand in support. "I felt the same way at first, but when the powder wore off I was just as good as new. Your mother could have been lying to you the same way Lanir lied to me, or maybe they both thought they were telling the truth. With as little as people really know about Blendings, be­lieving what might just be an opinion would he foolish."

  "That makes a great deal of sense," Rion agreed, relief and hope flowing in to warm away fear and tragedy, but then he frowned. "You said 'Lanir' told you the same thing. Who is Lanir, and how was it that you were able to escape him?"

  "Lord Lanir Porvin was the noble I told you about, the one who decided to claim me," Tamrissa said, looking more grimly pleased than disturbed. “He was Seated High in Fire magic, and was stupid enough to depend on the orders he gave me while I was under the influence of Puredan. After giving me the Puredan he let the hilsom powder wear off, thinking he was perfectly safe. When he discovered he wasn't, he pushed his Middle talent too far and burned him­self out."

  "Then the order I gave directing you not to obey any other orders worked!" Naran exclaimed, sounding equally as pleased. "None of us knew if it would, but now we've found out in the best way possible."

  "We certainly have," Rion agreed, hugging her one-armed. "And if we look at it properly, you're directly re­sponsible for helping me to regain my freedom. Not that Tamrissa isn't to be thanked as well...."

  "What I did needs no thanks," Tamrissa assured him with a light laugh just as Rion began to worry that he might have upset her. "If you only knew how much I enjoyed doing that to such a pompous, self-indulgent woman ... But I'll admit that what's ahead will be even more enjoyable. That Eltrina Razas needs more than simple taking-down, and I'm just the woman to do it."

  "Eltrina Razas," Rion echoed, touched by sudden un­derstanding. "She succeeded in securing Valiant for her own purposes, then, and we're about to free him, I take it. What may I do to assist you?"

  "You can stay with Naran and keep her from fretting herself into a skeleton from needing to wait," Tamrissa re­plied at once. "You can also let your system wash away the hilsom powder, so that when the guard comes after us, I won't have to hold them off alone."

  "Do you really think they'll come after us?" Rion asked, abruptly more than a little disturbed. "Mother would never risk her precious hide, not even to get revenge, and I'm certain she believed what you said to her. Do you expect Lord Lanir's people to be the ones to send them?"

  "Once Valiant is free, there will be three noble house­holds involved," Tamrissa replied with a sigh. "Most peo­ple would have the good sense to accept their defeat and give up the game as a bad idea, but something tells me that one or more of these nobles won't do any such intelligent thing. We'll have to leave the city as soon as we possibly can, which means we now have the time to hear how Naran found us. Naran?"

  "Actually, we don't have the time," Naran disagreed apologetically. "Eltrina Razas's house is only a short way up this road, and we shouldn't be deep in distracting con­versation when we get there. Besides, you have to under­stand how many people I know ... and how frantic I was when the five of you failed to come home ... I couldn't just sit there and make you do it all by yourselves..."

  "You're right, Naran, we can discuss it later," Tamrissa said hurriedly when Naran's voice grew uneven and her rate of breathing increased. "You ought to be told, though, how grateful I am that you didn't just sit there. If not for you, I'd probably still be trudging down Lanir's drive, wondering if I'd reach the road before dawn."

  Naran's agitation eased with that, especially since Rion had put his arms about her again. He would wait with her in the coach because that was all he was currently capable of doing, but the helplessness still rankled. And all he could do beyond that was hope he didn't nod off while they waited....

  EIGHT

  Valiant had dozed any number of times during the last hours, but at least he'd been able to keep himself from fall­ing deeply asleep. It was only a small way of fighting against the drug in his system, but it was still better than nothing. At one point a servant had appeared with a tray of food, and had tried to feed him. The food might very well have had more of the drug in it, so Valiant had pretended to be too confused and logy to eat it even with the servant's help. The servant had left again acting frustrated and an­noyed, and Valiant had gone back to fighting the drug while feeling hungrier than ever.

  Now there was the sound of the lock being thrown again, but Valiant hadn't regained enough control of himself to take advantage of it. He wanted to jump to his feet and fight his way out of that room and house, but simply opening his eyes to see who his visitor was seemed to be the most suc­cess he was able to claim.

  "You're beginning to really annoy me," the Razas woman announced when she stopped beside the bed to look down at him. "I've just been told that you didn't eat any­thing, but that won't be permitted to continue. When I give you back you have to be in good condition, so after I enjoy you—thoroughly this time!—you'll eat
everything you're brought. Do you understand me?"

  "Have we met?" Valiant asked innocently as he pre­tended to study her face. "I'm not havin' luck rememberin' things, like how I got to this place. And what was that you said we were goin' to do?"

  "Not we, I," she corrected, looking more annoyed than ever. "I'm going to enjoy myself, and whether or not you have any pleasure is entirely irrelevant. And don't even think about asking me any questions. You can't seem to remember the answers from one minute to the next, which I'm now told happens at times with that sedative. As if the fool couldn't have mentioned that in the first place. Take that sheet off you."

  As she spoke she opened her wrap and slipped out of it, then stood naked in a pose she must have considered arous­ing. Valiant couldn't imagine any situation in which he would find Eltrina Razas attractive or desirable, not to men­tion the fact that her presence made the room even smaller. Those two factors combined to add to the woman's displea­sure when she lost patience and pulled the sheet off him herself.

  "This is beginning to be a good deal less than amusing," she growled when she saw his lack of readiness, the look in her eyes close to fury. "I went to a great deal of trouble to have you even for this short amount of time, and early tomorrow morning they'll be coming to take you back. I will have my enjoyment of you before then, even if you have to spend most of the intervening hours in that tiny box I had prepared. Do you really want to be put into that tiny box?"

  Valiant tried to keep the terror from touching him, but even the sedative in his system wasn't able to do that. The mere suggestion that he'd have to face the equivalent of being buried alive was enough to set his heart pounding and his sweat to turn cold, but it did something else as well.