Tower of Sorcery

by Fel

  And now Amelyn bursts into her office, and tells her that Tarrin refuses to accept any more training!

  "He will not come," she said in a quivering voice. "He told me to tell you that he won't learn any more or do as we say until we lower the Ward and let him off the grounds." She swallowed. "He made it clear that anyone trying to force him to do anything does so at his or her own peril."

  "I will not tolerate rebellion in my own Tower!" The Keeper said in an absolute explosion of fury. "That boy will learn now just who holds his leash, I swear it!"

  "Keeper!" Amelyn gasped. "Tarrin isn't entirely stable! If you push him, he'll go mad, and then what use will he be to us?"

  "I don't care," she snapped. "I want Tarrin back in class, and I want it now. He has got to be ready, and this new problem of his is going to jeopardize things as it is. We absolutely cannot allow any delays."

  "But if he goes mad?"

  "Then we'll just have to find a way to reverse it," she snapped. "We don't have any more time, Amelyn! Don't you understand that? We have to take risks now!"

  "I think the risk you're talking about is too great," she said. "All he wants is to be allowed off the grounds to visit his family. That is not an outrageous demand."

  "It is," she said grimly. "I just came back from court, Amelyn, and King Erick knows about Tarrin. He demanded that we hand him over to him. Now more than ever, we have to protect him, because Erick's not the only one that's going to come after him. If someone else takes him, or someone kills him, then where will that leave us? Or Sulasia? Or the world? The Wikuni and the Selani don't have his power, Amelyn. I don't know if they can do it. Even if I have to keep him chained in a cell, we're keeping our hands on that boy. And when the time comes, we'll release him to do what must be done."

  Amelyn looked about to say something, but the door to her office burst open, and an infuriated Darvon marched in. He looked completely enraged, and the Keeper inwardly groaned. Darvon was almost too stubborn to handle, and it looked like he wasn't about to be put off by anything. "Keeper, we will talk, now," he said hotly. "We're going to have a little talk about Tarrin."

  Now what? "What did he do now?" she demanded irritably.

  "Tarrin told me that you're keeping him trapped on the grounds," he said. "He also told me that he has refused to do anything else until he is granted the same rights as the other Initiates."

  "He's being held on the grounds for his own safety, Darvon," the Keeper said calmly, but it was even clear to him that her voice was highly strained. "Someone with considerable resources at his disposal is trying to kill him."

  "Yes, and I think you know all about that," Darvon retorted. "What you're doing to him is wrong. He has a phobia against being caged. I think you know that too. Well, he told me that he's taken as much as he can stand with being caged on the grounds. If you don't let him out, he's going to end up hurting someone."

  "He'll just have to endure it, Darvon," she told him. "It's much too dangerous for him to be outside of our protection."

  "And what of his decision to strike against you?"

  "That won't last long," she said in a sudden growling voice.

  "So, you would oppress your own people, when all they want is to be treated like everyone else?" he asked pointedly.

  "He's not everyone else!" she said in sudden fury. "He's a Were-cat, and he's as dangerous to the people of Suld as he is in danger! He stays on the grounds, because it keeps him safe, and it keeps Suld safe from him!"

  Darvon gave her a calm look. "I see," he said. "Then that is your choice."

  "You better believe that it's my choice," she said with a hot look.

  "Fine. I should tell you, then, that we have long considered Tarrin and Allia to be our own. And not long ago, I decided that they have indeed earned the right to have their names on our rolls. I have Knighted them both." The Keeper's expression went from anger to horror in the blink of an eye. "Because Tarrin feels himself treated unjustly, he has decided on a non-violent means to solve his problem. As Lord General, I fully support the actions of my Knight. Furthermore, our code demands we do the same." He said that last with a slight, evil little smile. "We are All One Under Karas. So, the Knights hereby withdraw their support from the Tower and the katzh-dashi until such time that our Knight is treated with the respect due to his station. All Knights will remain on the grounds or in the chapterhouse, and all Knights in the field are going to be recalled."

  "You can't do that!" the Keeper gasped. "Tarrin's an Initiate, bound by the oaths of the katzh-dashi! He can't take the Oaths of the Spurs as well!"

  "He didn't," Darvon said with a wicked smirk. "He is Knight by title only. We lay no claim on his services, but his station does grant him the right to our support. So, you can keep trying to control him, but know that the Knights will fight you every step of the way."

  "You fool!" she said explosively. "Do you have any idea what you are doing? What you're jeopardizing?"

  "Oh, am I throwing sand into the plans of the katzh-dashi?" he asked mildly. "And what plans would those be?"

  The Keeper gave him a furious look. "What I'm about to say goes no further than this room," she told the Lord General.

  "Keeper, is it wise--" Amelyn began, but the Keeper cut her off.

  "Amelyn, if Erick knows, then Darvon won't be long in finding out," she said dismissively. "And perhaps Darvon can help us get Tarrin back under control."

  "What are you talking about?" Darvon asked suspiciously.

  "Sit down, Darvon," the Keeper said, motioning at one of the chairs in front of her desk. She sat down as he did, and then she calmly explained the entire situation to him.

  Darvon's eyes rose, widened, and more than once they gaped at her in shock. But it was the truth, the real truth, and he knew it.

  And it made his blood run cold.

  After he regained his composure. "I may understand why it's necessary, but you have a very edgy Were-cat on your hands, Keeper. It would be wise to give in to his demand. Tarrin is unbelievably stubborn, and if you push, he'll just dig in his heels and won't budge. I think we can reach a compromise that gives him his freedom while still keeping him protected."

  "I'm listening," the Keeper said after a moment.

  Bandit was the name that Keritanima had given to her cat, and he had a personality to match that title. He was michievious, fearless, and he absolutely would not mind the Wikuni at all. He held himself aloof from the Wikuni princess, and his imperious manner irritated her to no end. The cat should know, after all, that it was being addressed by royalty. Entire armies would obey her commands, and she was one of the most important women in the world. The very power of life and death was being held by her, capable to use as she saw fit, and the blasted cat still had the nerve to claw up her curtains, tear up her bedding, and use her favorite chair for a scratching post.

  More than once she considered passing sentence on the rebellious feline for crimes against upholstery, and have Binter execute it on the spot. But she needed it. And as if it could understand how important it was, it did whatever it wanted with absolute impugnity. But then again, cats always did that anyway. It wasn't like it was intelligent or anything. It just had no idea who it was dealing with.

  And thus began the brief but memorable war between Keritanima and Bandit. But the High Princess of Wikuna discovered, to her chagrin, that the the cat was even more stubborn than she was. No matter what punishment she used, the cat simply would not get it through its thick skull that what it was doing wasn't acceptable behavior. Even getting a pitcher of water dumped on it wasn't enough to keep it from tearing up her curtains. That was when Keritanima resorted to Sorcery. After discovering that Bandit didn't like loud noises, she wove together a weave that created a loud bang every time she caught him doing something that he wasn't supposed to be doing. It was a loud noise, it went everywhere, and it soon had all the Initiates on her floor complaining.

  And it perfectly concealed her conversations with Miranda when s
he needed to speak to the pretty little mink Wikuni about things she didn't want Jervis to know. She had no doubt that Jervis had his pet priests using spells to eavesdrop on them. After several ear-shattering explosions, however, she doubted that he'd be listening for long.

  Miranda was sitting on the bed behind the Princess, brushing out her hair with smooth, even strokes. Miranda was a cutie, by any race's standards. With high, wide, impish cheeks and a pink button-nose, her animal features enhanced a more humanoid face than normal Wikuni. Miranda's muzzle was very short, and her mouth was much more humanlike. Her white fur almost passed as skin, and she had a very thick head of blond hair that cascaded down her back like a fur cape. She parted it to the side, and a huge plump of blond hair stood over her eyes and face, which bobbed and swayed every time she moved her head. Her round mink ears popped out from that thick head of hair, just making her look cuter. Miranda was very cute, very sweet, and she seemed very innocent. And she was a very good actress. Miranda had been personally trained by Keritanima in all things underhanded, and Miranda was as smart as she was pretty. She was very good.

  After giving any eavesdroppers an earful, Keritanima sat calmly as Miranda gave her the daily report. Rumors and innuendos passed from Miranda's lips as often as things brought in by the wide network of spies that Miranda had helped set up, workers and servants as well as people specifically hired from the city and brought in to root out information. Keritanima had a very comprehensive list of all the freelancers that worked in Suld, and several of them were now on her payroll. She had agents at court, in the King's bedchamber, and three of them in the Cathedral of Karas. She had several more scattered through the noble villas, and the whisperings of the nobles found their way onto her desk, in triplicate. If she really wanted to know, she could find out what the Duchess of Ultern had for breakfast that morning.

  And by now, Jervis had just as extensive an operation. Jervis had a larger budget, and he didn't have to work while keeping his identity a secret. She had no doubt that Jervis was receiving all the information she was, and perhaps a little bit more. Jervis had access to the communications of the priests of the Wikuni, something that Keritanima didn't enjoy.

  So she managed to buy off a member of Jervis' staff. Now a copy of everything that crossed the rabbit Wikuni's desk ended up on her own as well.

  Keritanima listened calmly as the mink Wikuni brushed her hair. Even Miranda's voice was cute, a high yet rich voice that seemed to go perfectly with her deceptive appearance. The focus of her report was the meeting, or more to the point, the shouting match, between the Keeper and King Erick Alaron. "My sources tell me that they really got after one another," she continued to her employer. "Erick threatened to use his army to overrun the Tower, and the Keeper threatened to bury Suld in a blizzard. And all of it was over Tarrin."

  "Did you find out why?"

  "Not yet," she replied. "All I know right now is that Erick knows something about Tarrin, and that it makes him very, very important. Erick demanded that the Keeper hand him over to the Crown. It's not something that Erick's talked about in open court, and it's been hard information to come by. I bought one of Erick's mistresses last week, and I arranged it so she's spending tonight with him. She'll drag it out of him. She's very good at that. I'll have a detailed report for you tomorrow at lunchtime."

  "Very good," Keritanima replied calmly.

  "You know, you should think of starting to wear your hair up," Miranda told her, grabbing two handfuls and lifting it up from her shoulders. "It's getting long. Maybe swept over to one side, with a gold chain woven into it. Yes, that would look pretty."

  "You think so?"

  "Yes, it would make you look more mature," Miranda told her.

  "Why don't we try it?" she asked. "Didn't we bring some chains?"

  "I have some in my room," she assured her.

  Something told him that today was going to be rather eventful.

  Tarrin pulled his red Inititate shirt over his head, flexing his paws absently after pulling the tail down to his trousers, listening to the sounds of activity coming from Allia's room. He knew that it would be eventful because the Council had had almost a full day to mull over Tarrin's demands, and he was positive that they'd return with an answer for him. It would have to come before class, he knew. Tarrin's instincts told him that time was starting to become a precious commodity, and they wouldn't wait around. He wasn't quite sure how he knew that, but he did.

  Alot of things had been weird to him since yesterday. Tarrin had finally calmed down over the achievement of his childhood dream, and it also allowed him to explore the strange feelings he had towards the Goddess. She had been right, he had never been an overly religious person. The concept of loving a deity was indeed new and strange to him, but it was something that he couldn't deny in himself. Something about the Goddess had touched him on a very deep level, on top of the genuine affection and trust he felt in her. She had always spoken plainly to him. She didn't treat him like a child, and she had made it clear from the beginning what she expected of him and what she wanted from him. Tarrin's Were-cat nature seemed to accept that kind of treatment willingly. Better an honest enemy than a dishonest friend. It was why Jesmind had gone off the deep end after he left her, because she thought that he lied to her, and that shocked her values to the core. Tarrin was more cynical and, in his own way, more worldly than his fiery bond-mother. Jesmind was born Were, and her preconceptions of the world had been set for her. She lived in a very small world full of others that shared those values, and no matter what she said, her ability to function in the human world wasn't as good as she thought. Jesmind would accept whatever anyone said to her as the truth, until it was obvious that he lied. And then she would punish the liar, if she could catch him. Tarrin wasn't quite as trusting as Jesmind.

  That made him approach the Goddess from a defensive standpoint, and she had managed to worm her way through his defense and into his heart. But, being a Goddess, Tarrin realized that she knew exactly what to say to manage to pull that off. But his trust in her, his faith, wouldn't let him believe that she was using him. He could tell that she wanted something from him, something that she hadn't said yet, but she had also made that clear, nearly from the beginning. If he asked her straight out if she wanted him to do something for her, she would answer honestly. Tarrin could respect that.

  But over it all, the towering love that he felt in her presence, both from her and from him towards her, told him beyond anything that his heart had been won over. She had indeed got herself another follower. But the strange thing was that he had no idea quite how to take it. He understood what gods were, but the Goddess seemed to break all the molds. She wasn't a distant, all-powerful voice that was to be obeyed blindly. She was more like a person than a god, with her own personality, and even a quirky sense of humor. Senses of humor weren't often associated with divine beings, and that sense of humor made her seem more real than if she were to manifest her true power before his eyes. Tarrin felt a very powerful personal connection to the Goddess, and he wasn't sure if that was how she wanted him to feel towards her or not. But that was tough. That was the way he felt, and he wasn't about to change it.

  And something told him that that suited the Goddess just fine.

  She'd captured him the very first time she talked to him, he realized. When she gave him permission to lie, when she explained what she expected from him, she had him. That planted a deep seed of trust in him that had bloomed into love and sincere faith. She could very well have demanded him to obey her every command, and he would have been bound by both honor and his Were need for honesty to obey. But she allowed him to make his own choices, even allowed him to lie. That had been it. Everything else had just been waiting around for him to make that one simple conclusion.

  Tarrin sat down on the bed calmly, holding up the shaeram that graced his neck, studying it. Its black steel shimmered in the light of the cloudy morning pouring through his window. It was the symbol of the katz
h-dashi, but it was also the holy symbol of the Goddess, and its design held many meanings. Dolanna had explained them to him once, long ago. But it was what the Goddess had said to him that had been gnawing at him since last night, a night spent reading a book on theology he got from the library. The shaeram is for her, just as yours is for you and the ivory one is for Allia.

  The Keeper had given him this shaeram, and alot of the hostility he felt for her was directly attributed to it. Yet the Goddess said it had been for him. And the other two had been direct presents from the Goddess to Allia and Keritanima.

  Did the Goddess make the Keeper give him the amulet? Just who had placed the weave on it that kept it from coming off his neck?

  Sometimes the Goddess seemed to be listening, and sometimes she didn't. He knew that she could hear his thoughts. She called it listening to his heart, but it was more like listening to his head. He wondered if he could incite her to listen to him.

  "Goddess?" he called tentatively. "Are you there?"

  Only because you'd be very disappointed if I weren't, she answered impishly. Make it quick, kitten, you have no idea how busy I am at the moment.

  "What do you mean by that?"

  Your faith is very tentative, she replied calmly. If I weren't to answer, you'd start thinking that what you feel, and what you think I feel for you, are wrong. I can't answer you all the time, kitten, but when it really matters, I'll be here. You were wondering who chained you to that necklace, weren't you? Tarrin didn't answer, and he suddenly felt very guilty for even thinking of accusing the Goddess. Well, I know this will sting, my kitten, but though I didn't place the weave, I fully support it being there. You can't lose that amulet, Tarrin. It's absolutely imperative that you keep it, and it was the only way to make sure that nobody could take it from you. So I nudged the Council into making sure that it won't come off. That keeps you from losing it, and it keeps others from taking it off of you.