He scrambled down from his stool and scampered up the stairs with a staccato click of toenails on stone. Sejanes cocked an eyebrow at Karal.
"What about you?" he asked. "I was under the impression that young men were never quite fully fed."
It was Karal's turn to shrug uncomfortably. His stomach was still in something of a knot, and he wondered if Natoli was always going to affect him that way. If so, he was destined to grow much thinner.
"Lucky in love?" the old man asked, softly, and with a kindly and sympathetic manner. "Or unlucky? Either one can be hazardous to the appetite."
"I—I'm not sure," Karal replied, feeling his cheeks burning. "We don't know each other that well..."
Sejanes reached out and patted his knee. "Uncertainty can be just as hazardous. But I take it that she is a trusted friend?"
"Oh, yes, absolutely," Karal said fervently. "There isn't anyone I would trust more."
:Humph.:
Karal glanced hastily down at his feet, where Altra lay coiled around the legs of his chair, hitherto unnoticed. How had the Firecat gotten there? The last Karal had seen, Altra had been sprawled on the floor near the teleson.
"There isn't a human I trust more. I trust her as much as I trust Altra and Florian," he amended hastily. "And for a great many of the same reasons."
:Better. Not perfect, but better.:
"That is an excellent beginning, then," Sejanes said, his tone just as serious and his demeanor as sober as if he was discussing the next solution to the mage-storm. "One should always begin with friendship, rather than a more ardent emotion. The former will last, if the latter does not. And one should also have enough in common with a young lady to be her friend. Unless, of course, it is a case of a prearranged attachment, and in that case, there is little that one can do besides hope that one's parents, guardians, or other adults involved have some notion of what might appeal to one in the way of a lifetime companion and attempt to find those things that one has in common with her."
Karal had to chuckle at Sejanes' careful way of putting things. He was delicately trying to learn if Karal and Natoli had been joined to one another by parental agreement, or if they might be violating other such agreements with their own acquaintance. "It's not prearranged, and I also don't think her father, Rubric, will mind that we're—ah, friends—since he's 'the one who introduced us in the first place. He's the Herald who's been sent into Karse as the liaison with Solaris. I think that Natoli doesn't make friends easily."
Sejanes brightened. "This sounds more promising with every word you add!" he said with real enthusiasm. "And your feelings at the moment? Attracted, but confused?"
"Very much so." Karal was as amused as he was embarrassed. Sejanes was certainly taking a very active interest in this situation! And if Karal had not known him, it would be very tempting to dismiss his interest as that of an interfering, old-maidish busybody.
But Sejanes had never interfered in anyone's private life, as far as Karal knew; he was hardly old-maidish, and gave no evidence of being a busybody, although he had intervened to offer to teach Karal something of magic. No, this concern seemed to arise out of some genuine interest in Karal, in the manner of a master with a protege.
Just like Ulrich, his former master.
"You remind me in some ways of some former students of mine," Sejanes said quietly, echoing his own thoughts. "And you can tell me to go to the dogs if you think I'm prying where I have no right, but I hope perhaps I can give you useful advice about Natoli." He grinned conspiratorily. "I have had a number of lady friends over the years, and most of them were as highly intelligent as she seems to be. I believe I can remember what it was like to be young!"
Karal stared at him in mingled surprise and gratitude, for he'd had no one to ask for such advice. An'desha was mostly concerned with Lo'isha and the other Shin'a'in, when he wasn't working, as they all were, with the dangerous magics here. Florian and Altra weren't human, and although Lyam apparently had a lady friend, neither was he. Firesong—well, his advice would hardly apply to Karal's situation, even if he wasn't already wary of asking the Tayledras anything personal. He didn't know Silverfox well enough, he was not going to ask romantic advice of Natoli's teacher Master Levy, and the Shin'a'in were none of them approachable enough. The idea of coming to Sejanes would never have occurred to him.
But Ulrich would have helped me...
Ulrich would have given him the same advice his father would have given him, or an older brother if he'd had one. Vkandis did not require that his priests be celibate, only chaste outside of marriage. Ulrich had told his pupil more than once that he had been romantically attached twice, and that only outside circumstances had prevented him from making either of those women his wife.
Karal knew a bit more than just that, though it was still bare bones. In the case of the second lady in his life, Ulrich and his intended had an extreme difference of opinion over the internal politics of the priesthood, and had not spoken again, not even after Solaris became Son of the Sun. The first time, early in his life, the lady had suffered a short but fatal illness, leaving him brokenhearted for many years.
Ulrich himself had never told Karal the stories; he'd learned of both from some of the Red-robe priests who were longtime friends and colleagues of his mentor. They had meant to compassionately keep him from inadvertently touching salt to Ulrich's open wounds, and warned him of the things he must not press unless Ulrich himself broached the subject.
But that had not prevented Ulrich from giving him some preliminary advice about girls, and the possible pursuit thereof, though at the time he had not been at all interested even in the idea. Perhaps Ulrich had a premonition that one day, he would need that advice.
But it was far more likely that Ulrich had simply been offering what he would give any lively young person who was his protege; the suggestion that he himself had enough experience in matters of romance to offer advice. That set the scene for what was inevitable, and would have prevented him from going to his less-experienced peers for advice that had as much chance of being harmful as helpful.
Now Sejanes was offering the same thing, and Karal was only too happy to accept the offer.
"Thank you, sir," he said simply. "Do you have any ideas about what I should say to her?" He smiled sheepishly. "Don't think that I'm ungrateful, but talking with her is all I can do right now, given our current distance."
"That may be just as well," Sejanes replied mildly, but with a twinkle. "And yes, I have a few suggestions."
That was precisely what he wanted to hear.
Karal and Lyam scribbled on identical sheets of foolscap, seated side by side on a pallet bed, both of them taking full notes of this meeting. The entire group sat on pallets in a rough, three-sided square around the teleson, which was situated in front of Firesong. This was a new version of the old Council sessions that they had held in the Council Room of the Palace at Haven, and he wondered how many of the Councillors on the other side were gazing at the teleson with bafflement. Surely the device must seem to them as strange as any of the Storm-changed beasts that had been displayed for their edification. A tiny image of Queen Selenay gazed solemnly at them from the crystal lens. She had just asked Master Levy if he had any more information on when the mage-storms would begin again.
"I can't speak for magic, but I can for mathematical probability, and that has given us the ability to predict what is going to happen up to a point. The mathematics is relatively clear on this," Master Levy said gravely. "The cancellation effect of the power burst that was released from here is gradually eroding; we'll be seeing the resumption of stormlets in four days, but I don't think that even the most sensitive mage will detect them unless he is looking for them. That's all we know right now, and Treyvan will be in charge of the mages who will be looking for the stormlets and attempting to measure their relative strength. Once we have the resumption of stormlets that actually affect the physical world, we can measure how much they increase in strength a
nd decrease in interval. We'll be able to calculate then how long it will take before the Storms have major physical effects again, and how long until they are dangerous. Once they are dangerous, however, they will build up to a repetition of the one released at the original Cataclysm. I have absolutely no doubt of that."
In the crystal of the teleson, Selenay nodded gravely. Although she alone was visible, the Haven teleson sat in the middle of the Council Chamber, surrounded by a full Council at their horseshoe-shaped table. All of them were able to hear what Master Levy said, although they only saw Firesong.
"Now we come to the question of the last Storm and the effect here, where all of the force will be concentrated. Here is where Need, An'desha, Sejanes, and I have performed our own calculations, and we're not optimistic," Firesong said with uncharacteristic restraint. "It is not good, Majesty. Although the shields of this place survived the initial, outward release, we do not believe they will survive the impact of the energies converging on this place. We think the shields will go down, and all the weapons that have not been rendered harmless will go then, and that will be bad."
"By 'go," just what is it that you are saying?" asked one of the Councillors around the Haven teleson. "And just what precisely does 'bad' mean?"
Karal restrained a nervous titter. How would you explain "bad" to someone whose idea of a catastrophe was a major forest fire, a great flood, or a landslide? How do you get him to believe that it was possible to release forces that melted rock towers and dug craters the size of some countries?
"I wish I knew," Firesong admitted. "We don't know what most of them were intended to do, only that they were weapons deemed 'too dangerous' to use. It would be supremely ironic to discover that they cancel one another out, but I gravely doubt that we can count on that. Certainly the area of destruction will cover the Plains, and since we have enough warning this time, the Shin'a'in are evacuating."
The Shin'a'in are evacuating. The Shin'a'in, who never, ever left the Plains. Would that tell the inquisitive Councillor just how grave the situation was? Karal didn't know.
"Whether the effect will carry as far as Valdemar, I couldn't say, although if I were in your place, I'd count on it." Firesong held up a hand in warning. "And don't ask, 'What effect?' because I don't know that, either. We're trying to find out, but we're dealing with weapons created in secret by a secretive mage and the only notes are in a language that was current two millennia ago. We're doing the best that we can, and having more people here would only slow things down, but what we do may not be enough, or in time."
Karal noted the grumbling on the other side, but no one said anything out loud. Probably because, as Natoli said, they just don't believe it can happen. Sheer stupidity on their part, but there it is. In a way, he couldn't blame them; they were new to true-magic, relatively speaking. For most of them, the terrible things that Ancar's mages had done were only stories, and the first time they had seen anything like magic was when the mage-storms began. Nor could they imagine a force that could turn a flourishing country into a smoking, glass-floored crater. He noted that down, in a sidebar. Tarrn had told him that his observations could be important, so long as they weren't of a personal nature, and to note them down.
Most people don't believe that a disaster is coming, or that it can affect them, even when they're told repeatedly.
He was tremendously grateful that he no longer had to represent Karse at the Council; one of the Sun-priests who had fought with the Valdemarans against Ancar had come North at the same time that Natoli's father had gone South. He had never been comfortable in such a position, had never felt particularly capable of handling it, no matter what Solaris herself said. And certainly about half the other members of the Council had doubts now and again about his competence and even his integrity. But that Sun-priest had certainly seen magic and believed in it with his whole heart. Perhaps he could help convince the doubters.
"What about the weapons themselves?" someone else asked intelligently. "If we can get rid of them harmlessly, we'd be able to lessen the danger by that much. Is there any way of dismantling them?"
"When Urrrtho sssaid he could not?" That was Treyvan, his, voice indignant. "When he left a warrrning to that effect? Arrre you mad?"
Ah, the things a gryphon can get away with saying, just because he's larger than anything or anyone else! Karal was glad that Treyvan and Hydona were there to say all the rude things that needed saying.
"We are proceeding very slowly in our understanding of these devices," Firesong said smoothly. "If there is a way to dismantle them, we will. We may be very lucky; at least one of them simply disintegrated with age, and time might have done what mortal hands could not."
It was interesting to Karal how Firesong had taken on the role of spokesman for the group. Not that anyone else had rushed to volunteer, but Firesong was by nature a bit lazy, and not apt to take on any more responsibility than he had to.
Then again, if Florian or Altra had held the teleson link open, the Councillors would have seen only Karal, the Companion or the Firecat, none of which were good choices for inspiring respect. Sejanes had no mind-magic, nor did Master Levy. An'desha did, but he was no better choice than Karal, although thanks to his magic-whitened hair, he looked a bit older than Karal. Need could have gotten respect, but if Need had held the link, they'd all be seeing Firesong anyway. At least people respected Firesong; even feared him a little. One good thing; his acidic wit made a fine weapon to wield against intransigent or argumentative Councillors.
Then again, it is a chance for Firesong to be seen, appreciated, and admired, and who else has he had as an audience lately?
"First we have to discover what, exactly, they are supposed to do. Then how they do it. Then we might be able to judge if we have the ability to disarm them," Firesong explained patiently. "If you think of them as enormously complicated traps with a weapon in the middle, this will make more sense to you."
"But—" someone began, and stopped.
"Fortunately," Sejanes picked up smoothly, "this study does not at all interfere with our studies of the mage-storms, because that is taking place up there, among you. Here we are still operating on the assumption that we may have to trigger one of these weapons to counteract the final Storm. We already know which are the best choices, and together with the notes we found in the workshop below, we are studying them to see if the same solution we found the last time is viable this time."
"And what if you can't find an answer?" That voice sounded strained and somewhat panicked, So there was at least one person on the Council who was taking this threat seriously! Karal only hoped it was not someone who was inclined to take a panicked view of everything. Getting people to organize their own defense would be easier if they did not think of the person goading them to it as a chronic overreactor.
"You really ought to be operating on the assumption that we won't, and that all we have done is to buy you time to prepare," Master Levy replied truculently. He was very impatient with the Council, and had said as much before this meeting began. "We told you that in the beginning. When I left, the Artificers were devising a formula to predict the pattern of the circles of damage."
"We're still working on it," said another voice. "The model isn't perfect, but we expect to have an answer before the stormlets start, and we'll check its accuracy with measurements as the stormlets increase in strength. By the time there's real damage, the formula will be tested and ready for use."
"So, there's your answer. If we can't come up with a simple solution, you simply keep people and livestock out of those dangerous areas, drain as much power as you can out of that stone under the Palace and shield it with everything you have, and wait for the final Storm to pass." Master Levy's tone said the rest; that any idiot should have been able to sit quietly and figure that much out for himself.
"While you all sit there safe and sound in the Tower? someone else accused angrily.
That was a mistake. Karal braced himself for the r
iposte. Firesong was not in a good mood, and there was going to be blood on the Council table in a moment, even if it was metaphorical blood.
"Safe? Sound?" Firesong asked dangerously. "Where did you come by that incredible notion? Would someone please remove that man for incompetence and put him in the kitchen washing pans where he belongs? If I were the lot of you, I'd throw him off the Council. I do believe in encouraging those of lesser ability, but I think that appointing a congenital idiot to a Council seat is going too far."
There was an indignant spluttering on the other side, then a certain amount of commotion; Selenay continued to look serene, but her attention was not on the teleson. It was maddening not to be able to see what was going on.
"Well?" Firesong asked, when the noise had ended.
"We will take your recommendation under advisement," Selenay replied urbanely, and clearly as much for the benefit of her side of the gathering as for Firesong's. "You are correct in one thing, if a little less than tactful; this Council can no longer afford to seat members whose attention is so concentrated on minor details within their own sphere that they are paying no attention to the greater dangers that threaten us all."
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