by Fran Jacobs
Mayrila frowned at me. She had probably wanted more of a reaction that that, that the prophecy had left me shaken, or had hurt me in some way, or at least, had done something. For it to not have affected me at all was probably a letdown for her, as it was for me. It seemed anticlimactic.
"Well," she said, not hiding her disappointment very well. "Let me light a few candles and lanterns and we can talk about this lion of yours, all right? Perhaps I will even make some tea?"
"All right," I said. "Tea would be nice, thank you." I settled back in my chair, watching as Mayrila started to relight the candles and lanterns. I was feeling rather pleased with myself. I'd had a prophecy, my first. It hadn't hurt, it hadn't been too frightening, and it had been easy enough to obtain. Would it always be that easy? And even if it was, was there much point in doing that over and over? Were visions and prophecies like apples on a tree, only a set number, and when I'd had them all, they'd be gone? Or was there an infinite number of them? I scratched my brow thoughtfully. As with the Rose Prophecies, the more I learnt, the more I achieved, the more damn questions I had!
The sound of whistling caught my attention and lifting my head I saw that it was coming from Mayrila. It was a strange tune, one that seemed very familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place it. "What's that you're whistling?" I asked.
"What?" she said, turning to give me a curious look, holding a taper in her slim fingers. In the dim candlelight her face was hidden but her violet eyes were still clear and curious, studying me.
"The song you were whistling, just now, what is it?"
There was a pause and then Mayrila shrugged. "I wasn't aware that I was whistling," she said. "But it's probably just a child's song. There was one singing outside my window this morning and I've had the tune stuck inside my head for most of the day."
"Oh." I nodded and took a deep breath, sinking back into the chair again. "It sounds really familiar."
"I don't doubt it," Mayrila said, with a shrug. "Children tend to sing the same basic songs. You probably sang it yourself as a child."
"Yes" I said. "Maybe. Are there any words to this song?"
"Probably," Mayrila said. "But I don't know what they are."
"Hmm." My brow creased as I tried to think. Mayrila had stopped whistling now, no doubt feeling awkward because of my questions, yet the soft tune, the repetitive, almost sing-song nature of it, was still spinning around inside my head. "It sounds so familiar, but I just can't think what it is. You're sure you don't know?"
"Yes," Mayrila snapped. "I'm sure that I don't know! Gods, Candale, why all this concern about a damn song?"
"It just sounds familiar," I said. "And I'm afraid if I can't remember what it is, I'll be up all night trying to remember!" I shrugged reluctantly. "It doesn't matter though, I'll just ask Teveriel. I'm sure he'll know." I gave Mayrila a smile. "Where's that tea?"
***
I slept well that night, deep, heavy and dreamless, and awoke to my usual pattern of a bath and a clumsy shave, before breakfast in the hall. I finally managed to grab Teveriel's arm, just before I headed off to my council meeting, to explain that I wasn't getting married, only to have him tell me that he already knew that. Silver had been to see him, after I had gone to bed, and had explained everything to him. Teveriel apologised, profusely, for having run away, for having doubted me, for having gotten drunk and insulting me to the high rafters of a tavern in town. He hadn't mentioned names, he assured me, and hadn't really meant a word of it, he'd just been hurt and upset and wanting to vent. Why he'd been that hurt and upset still baffled me, but I chose to say nothing more about it, invited him on the afternoon's hunting trip I was to take with the diplomats, and then headed off to my meeting.
Afterwards I got changed into my hunting clothes, black leather breeches and a dark green tunic, brought for me by Silnia. I also fetched my bow, a fine Idryan piece, which I was sure would impress the diplomats, as well as prove functional, before I headed down to the courtyard to collect Midnight, who was saddled and ready for me. Teveriel and the diplomats were already mounted when my guards and I got down there. Silver stiffened and turned away, when he saw the diplomats, while they just ignored him. It was the first time that both the mage and diplomats had been forced together like this so I didn't blame them for feeling uncomfortable and for wanting to keep their distance but, as none of us had a choice about this, they were just going to have to get over it.
I took the diplomats to a small forest, about an hour away from the castle, which was popular with noble hunting parties. I readied my bow, as we rode into the wood, so I would be able to shoot at anything that came into sight, and rode with the reins hung loose over the pommel and my knees guiding Midnight and keeping him moving. Bylrd, one of the diplomats, watched me, with a look of approval and awe on his face. I could tell from his own stiff posture, and that of his companions, that they weren't experienced riders.
I turned to him and, with a forced grin and a faked interest, I asked, "Will you tell me about the Princess Clyniss?"
"She's beautiful, and pure," Bylrd began. "Seventeen years old, docile, as any perspective wife should be --"
"No," I said. "Not that. Tell me about her. About her hobbies, what are her interests?"
Bylrd glanced at his companions and it was Katlatai, who was the main spokeswoman for the group, who spoke now. "Her hobbies? She enjoys reading and sewing fine embroidery."
"Is that it?" I asked.
The diplomats exchanged looks and Katlatai looked slightly uncomfortable. "We don't know her, Prince Candale," she said finally. "Other than the painting, we haven't actually met her."
"No? Why?"
"Unmarried Idryan noblewomen are not to be looked upon by common eyes. She's kept in the women's quarters of the castle, with her unmarried younger sisters."
"Kept?" I heard Trellany gasp. "Like a prisoner!"
"Oh," I said, ignoring my bodyguard as though she hadn't spoken. "But she will come to Carnia Castle, won't she? I will be allowed to meet her before the wedding?"
"That's your custom," Katlatai said, "not ours, and is something that will need to be discussed with our king on our return."
"Oh," I said again. I was feeling a strong wave of guilt for this poor girl. In all our talk about treaties and allowing mages to pass easily through Idryan, we seemed to have forgotten that there was an innocent girl involved in this. A girl who, it seemed, lived her life as a prisoner, just waiting for her parents to find her a man to marry, a man she wouldn't even get to meet until her wedding day. It had to be so hard for her, frightening, but at the same time, she was probably desperate for it to happen as other girls her age were likely to be married, with children. And then, just as she thought she had found someone, when she thought she would be like everyone else, it was all going to fall through and she was going to be alone again. It made me feel terrible, knowing that I was going to be part of this, but I didn't have a choice. The treaty was important but I couldn't marry this girl just to make her feel better. I didn't ask any more questions about the princess, after that, and for the next couple of hours we rode on in silence.
Until I broke it to ask about the Oracle.
Trellany gave me a dark look when I brought him up, but I ignored it. She must have known that I would ask about it now, that being alone with the diplomats, without any chance of being overheard by someone who would disapprove of my question, was too good an opportunity to pass up.
Bylrd bowed his head, staring down at his saddle pommel. "The man was insane," he said. "We don't talk about him much in Idryan."
"Insane?" I whispered.
"Oracles and prophets speak the words of the gods," Katlatai explained, "but it's a gift that has cost many of them their minds. Daryln, the Oracle of Light, was one. He was a king's son, third born, and when he was around fifteen he started to have visions and give prophecies. He spoke of a distant future, one of light and peace and, at first, people listened and he was respected, but he quickly changed. H
e became obsessive and arrogant, full of his own self worth. He believed himself to be special, a king among seers, and gave himself that title, the Oracle of Light. He also became increasingly paranoid, convinced that his opposite would be born. He called him the 'Shadow Seer' and believed he would see a future of darkness and chaos, a contrast to Daryln's own visions. He also started to fear his family, his friends, believe that they were plotting against him, and to rant and rave about demons and monsters. Then, one day, he disappeared."
"He was just gone from the castle," Bylrd said. "There is no record of why and no record of anyone having ever seen him again. It's one of the few mysteries of Idryan history."
"It is also taken as a warning," Lylcd said, "to all prophets and seers who enter the king's service as priests. That madness might be their reward for speaking the word of the gods, because even though they are doing the gods' bidding, no man can remain completely untouched by them."
"Oh," I said thickly. The Oracle of Light had predicted me, and people had thought he was insane because of it. He had feared demons and monsters and then, he had vanished. If all that had happened to him, it didn't bode well for what might happen to me.
"Why do you ask all this?" Rityas asked softly.
"I was interested in him," Teveriel said, speaking for me. "I heard about him and I thought it might make an interesting song, but I can't find much about him to base the song on. Prince Candale offered to ask you about it for me."
The diplomats seemed to accept this, but as we continued our ride through the forest, Trellany drew close to me. "Rityas knows something," she whispered.
"She hardly said anything," I replied.
"She knows something that she isn't saying," Trellany said. "I saw it, in her face. When you mentioned the Oracle, she started and looked surprised, and I saw recognition in her eyes. Then I saw anger there, when the others started to talk about how he was paranoid and went mad. She tried to hide it, but I still saw it. She knows something, Prince Candale."
I glanced over at the diplomat where she sat easily in her saddle, talking to Bylrd who rode alongside her. She didn't seem aware that I was looking at her and certainly didn't look as though she was hiding something. No, she rode as though she didn't have a care in the world. I turned back to Trellany. Even if I couldn't see anything about the diplomat that betrayed her having knowledge of the Oracle, Trellany was sure of it and I trusted her. "All right," I said softly. "I believe you. But I'm not sure why she wouldn't say something, if she knew."
"It may simply be that that she doesn't want her colleagues to know that she's sympathetic towards someone they consider a madman and a warning to others to be pious. Perhaps having such sympathies is unacceptable in Idryan. Or," and her face became grim, "perhaps she doesn't want to talk about him in case she lets something slip, something important, something connected to a group that the Oracle was meant to have founded."
"You think she could be a spy?" I gasped.
"I don't know, Prince Candale. I just know that she knows something about the Oracle and that she doesn't share her colleagues view, for whatever reason. It may well be nothing, but I feel that I have to report it to King Sorron when we return."
I nodded. "I was afraid that you might say that," I said.
The sun was setting when we finally headed back to the castle, and it was dark when we returned. We had bumped into another hunting party, of drunken lords and ladies, as we were leaving and we all rode back together. We had missed supper, but I doubted anyone would have thought we would be back for it. It had been a fairly successful trip, in the end, and I'd hopefully proved my worthiness, as a suitor for a girl I had no intention of marrying, by having shot a grouse and a couple of rabbits. Teveriel had also done well, surprising me, as I'd never thought of him as much of a hunter, but then, he was a bard, and had lived on the road a fair bit, so he'd probably had to learn. The diplomats had shot a couple of partridges and seemed rather proud of themselves. It was, apparently, the first time that they'd ever hunted.
The stable-hands were eating their supper when we got back to the castle, so rather than disturb them we decided to take care of the horses ourselves. I took Midnight to the royal stables, where he was kept, leaving the others to take care of their own mounts.
With Trellany standing in the stable door to keep an eye on me, I led Midnight to his stall, pausing to bid hello to the mounts of my family, to stroke their noses and feed them each a carrot from the wooden tray left on top of a barrel of grain.
I'd been taught how to take proper care of my horse, as well as how to ride. It had always been a tiring, thankless chore, but tonight I found it relaxing. It felt good to be home now, in the warm and familiar darkness of the stable, with time to myself to take care of Midnight, and to be alone with my own thoughts. The day hadn't been as hard, or as awkward, as it could have been, but having to hunt under the close scrutiny of the Idryans had made me feel a little uncomfortable and had diluted the pleasure I would have had otherwise. Still, I had managed to learn a little about the Oracle of Light, although what my grandfather was going to say when Trellany told him her suspicions I wasn't too sure.
The temperature had dropped in the stable and I shivered as I reached for Midnight's brush. It might be spring, but the nights could still be bitter, I wanted to finish up quickly and get back into the warmth of my room before it grew much colder. Midnight stood still as I brushed his shiny black coat. He seemed to enjoy it, almost leaning into it, the way that the castle cats did when I stroked their fur. He nickered softly and sighed, the air coming out of his nostrils in a strong blast. I grinned and stroked his soft, velvety nose and leaned into give him a kiss. "I promise to make more time for you," I told him, "even if I have to bring you into council meetings with me." He just ignored me, nosing into my pocket for where I had stashed an extra carrot to give to him when he was settled. With a laugh I dug it out and fed it to him, stroking his nose the whole time. "You have your priorities right," I said, shaking my head.
A loud crash caught me off guard. I started and whirled around to see that Aylara's palfrey, Salori, in the neighbouring stall, had reared, and her hooves were now clattering against the gate of her stall. She wasn't alone in her distress. The other horses were whinnying, their hooves grinding on the ground, or clattering against the stalls that held them confined. I had never seen them so frightened before and it scared me because I had no idea what had caused it, or what damage they might do to themselves in their panic.
I felt a hard blast of air on my neck suddenly and I turned around to see that Midnight now shared their panic. His large, dark eyes had rolled up so that I could see the whites and his sleek body was covered in a layer of foamy sweat. I reached out to grab his reigns, to try and calm him, but he reared up and I narrowly escaped his hooves as I threw myself against the side of the stall.
Then I caught the scent of something heavy and sweet, cloying and suffocating, in the air. A scent that reminded me of the heavy perfumed flowers and scented candles that were burned at a funeral. A scent that reminded me of death. It was something that I'd smelt before and now I knew where - in the dream I'd had before Trellany had recovered, and then again in my room when I'd felt as though I was being watched. A feeling I had again now
I backed out of the stall, half-afraid that Midnight would dash my brains out with his hooves if he reared, or crush me, if he tried to run for freedom. I bolted his stall door tight with shaking fingers, but it did nothing to calm him and he carried on, grinding the air with his hooves, whinnying and snorting, throwing his head from side to side in his panic.
I turned away, towards the door and Trellany, but there was no sign of her. And then I saw who, or rather, what, had alarmed them.
It was a dark shadow, one I'd seen before in a dream of the dark eyed child. There it had danced and shifted amongst the claws of the three-headed dragon that had filled the cell. When I'd woken, I'd dismissed it as being nothing, part of the background, as it were, l
ike the dragon and the cell itself. Only I couldn't think that anymore. The horses were all too afraid of it.
Unlike the shadow man that had tried to kill me in White Oaks, this had no fixed shape. It was a vapid creature, unreal and wispy, constantly moving. Like some sort of reverse flame, it seemed to have drawn in all the light around it, and it radiated coldness. It was probably responsible for the sudden drop in temperature in the stable. It didn't feel alive, this mist, not a man under a glamour or some sort of magical creature. If anything I got the impression that it was very, very dead. But, I knew, somehow, that unlike the shadow man in White Oaks, this wouldn't harm me.
Still, when it shifted and started to move towards me, oozing across the floor, I backed away.
"W-what do you want?" I asked it, my voice shaking as my hand reached for the sword I wore at my waist, as though I could somehow protect myself against a shadow with it. There was no answer and the mist continued to move towards me. I nearly laughed then, a panicked sort of laugh, as I realised this thing couldn't answer me, it had no mouth! The cold was intense now, my body felt as though it had been plunged into a bath of ice. All the little hairs on my body had stood up on end and my teeth were chattering. I forced myself to take another step back and then another, but it was still closing on me and I knew that I'd soon be trapped against the back wall of the stable. "Is it the child that you want?" I asked desperately. "I-I don't know where it is, or how to find it, b-but you seemed to want it when you moved among the dragon's claws in my dream ... Or is it me that you want?" There was still no response, but a moment later I had my answer as the shadow suddenly touched me.
It was an icy touch, so cold that it burned me and I stumbled back, crashing into the wall, knocking a few bridles down from their hooks. I couldn't believe that it had touched me. That it had laid its ... shadow on me. I glanced at my hand, at my arm, roughly shoved up the tunic sleeve to see if it had left some sort of mark, but there was nothing there. Nothing at all, I just felt cold all over.