by Jean Lorrah
He left Galen, found other small caves with one or two people in them-some not asleep, whose activities he deliberately did not Read.
It was only in the room-to-room search that he found Drakonius, for although the Adept was awake, his mind was unReadable.
At least Lenardo was fairly certain he had found Drakonius. The man was definitely an Adept, awake, and busy. Reading visually, Lenardo saw a broad-shouldered man in his fifties, black hair and beard streaked with white, skin tanned and leathery. His chair was actually a box containing a supply of arrows for his bowmen. Not even a stool to spare-on campaign everything must do double duty.
His table was a case lid set across two other boxes. On it were a candle, ink and quills, and a pile of papers, written over in the savage alphabet that Lenardo could not read. There were four messages��� no, the same message four times. Lenardo was sure all the papers said the same thing, although Drakonius definitely did not write with the precision of a scribe. He studied it, so he would be able to reproduce it for Aradia.
The Adept called in the man standing guard at his door. “Get the messengers.”
Drakonius folded the four papers and sealed them with wax, impressing each with his seal: the dragon’s head, the same mark Lenardo bore on his arm. Meanwhile, the guard went to a room where four men were wiling away the time by gaming. They put away their dice at once and came to get the papers. Lenardo carefully noted the names Drakonius told them: Trang, Yolo, Hron, Lilith The last two he had heard before. Aradia had called them her allies.
Lenardo was up at dawn, Reading as he dressed that the three Adepts in the room above his were all alive and all deeply asleep. He wanted to tell Aradia about Drakonius, but he feared to wake her or Wulfston. How long must they sleep to recover?
When he went down to the kitchen for breakfast, though, the cook stared in surprise. “Ye be up early. My lady left orders for a large meal for three at noon. Were ye not working with my lady and Lord Wulfston all yesterday?”
“They were working,” he replied. “I was��� observing.” The cook suspected he was an untrained Adept. How else explain the interest Aradia and Wulfston took in him?
The aroma of baking bread permeated the air, and Lenardo had the pleasure of eating some still warm from the oven, with fresh sweet butter. There were fresh-picked berries this morning with thick cream, and hot cereal.
“Now, lad,” said the cook, “I’ve been feeding my lady and her father before her these many years, and I know a proper diet for��� those who need to keep strength up. Ye must learn to eat meat, son-‘tis the fastest thing to rebuild your blood.”
“I haven’t lost any blood,” Lenardo replied amiably. “This is the best bread I’ve ever tasted.”
“Nay, don’t try to turn me aside with compliments. Ye must eat properly, or ye’ll never learn��� what ‘tis ye’ve come here to learn,” he ended conspiratorially.
“Why don’t we let the Lady Aradia judge that?” Lenardo suggested. “She and Lord Wulfston will certainly do justice to your fine dishes. I’ll take the meal up to them at noon, if you don’t mind.”
Carrying the heavily laden tray up the twisted stairs to the tower room was not easy, and once at the top, Lenardo wondered what he ought to do. Both Aradia and Wulfston were still in deep, motionless sleep, while Nerius���
Interesting. The old Adept lay in the same position, on ��� his back, head straight on the pillow��� but his arms had moved. His hands were clasped, not tightly, just relaxed across his rib cage.
Setting the tray down, Lenardo went to the bed to Read Nerius deeply. He found two areas of the man’s body hot with the painless flame of Adept healing: the portion of his brain from which the tumor had been removed, and the area beneath his breastbone, where Lenardo perforce had badly bruised him. He had gone from unconsciousness to healing sleep-by himself? Or had Aradia wakened in the night and done it?
There was still some distortion of Nerius’ brain where the tumor had been-permanent damage, Lenardo judged; but nothing like the horrible compression of the growth. Only time would tell the effect of the lingering damage.
Aradia’s father already looked better. His skin still had the pallor of someone who had not been out of doors for many months, but there was a hint of healthy color in his cheeks, lips, and fingernails. His face was relaxed but no longer slack; he looked more like a healthy man sleeping than like the dying man he had appeared yesterday.
Aradia still looked exhausted, the dark smudges back under her eyes, but the transparent look was gone. No sooner did Lenardo begin to Read her physical state, though, than she woke with a start, crying out, “Father!”
“He’s much better,” Lenardo quickly assured her. “Just look at him.”
Aradia sat up cautiously and looked at Nerius. “Did you move his hands?”
“No-he’s in healing sleep. I’ve already Read him.”
“He did it himself! And he moved!” Pure joy lighted her eyes. “Oh, Lenardo, Father hasn’t moved by himself, except for convulsions, since midwinter! He’s going to be all right!”
“He’s going to live,” cautioned Lenardo. “Please��� don’t get your hopes up that he will recover fully. I cannot promise that.”
“I don’t ask it,” she replied, but her elation told him she expected it. “We must let him sleep and recover now. I smell food, and I’m ravenous. Wulfston,” she said as she saw the young Adept still sound asleep. “I must wake him.”
“Don’t get up,” said Lenardo. “I’ll wake him.”
Aradia gave him a puzzled frown. “How did you know how to wake me? Cook had orders to bring our food up. Actually, I thought you’d be asleep too-or rather, I didn’t think. I keep forgetting that Reading doesn’t weaken you. I should have shown you how to waken an Adept”
“I didn’t wake you,” he replied. “You woke up on your own just as I started to Read you.”
She put the pillow behind her back and leaned against it. “I wonder��� Try Reading Wulfston and see what happens.”
He did, finding the black man closer to recovery of his strength than Aradia but still profoundly asleep. “He’ll be all right after some food and more rest.”
“But it didn’t wake him.” She shrugged. “Coincidence. I can never tell when you’re Reading me.”
“Do you want to?”
“I can’t stop you, and you can’t Read my thoughts anyway.” Turning the subject, she said, “Usually we just let someone sleep out the time he needs to heal, but without nourishment, that will leave him weak as you were for a few days. Wulfston and I cannot afford such weakness, so we must eat. Just touch him on the forehead, between the eyes, very lightly. Try to wake an Adept any other way, and there’s no telling what he might do to you if he’s startled.”
“I’ll remember that!” said Lenardo as he went to touch Wulfston.
The young Adept opened his eyes reluctantly. “Oh, Lenardo,” he said in annoyance. “What is it?” Then he focused on the room and forced himself awake. “Nerius?”
“He’s much better,” said Aradia. “He went into healing sleep by himself, Wulfston-unless you did it?”
“No.” Wulfston shook his head slowly, as if trying to clear it. “I was sound asleep. The last thing I remember is Lenardo hitting Nerius. Did I dream that?”
“No,” said Lenardo. “I was trying to restart his heart. You finally did it, Wulfston.”
“I did? I don’t remember. I was just trying to stay conscious long enough to be sure Aradia and Nerius were both alive. It’s like trying to remember a dream.”
“Did you really hit my father?” asked Aradia. “I’ll show you sometime how a non-Adept can pump a heart from outside the body. It sometimes works. I suppose it’s possible I restarted Nerius’ heart, but it’s more likely it was Wulfston.”
“Then I have both of you to thank,” said Aradia. “Now, let’s eat before I fall asleep again.”
As soon as they had finished,
before the two Adepts could get sleepy again, Lenardo said, “Aradia, I have broken a promise to you.”
“What?”
“I entered your private rooms, to write this paper in your study. I think you will agree this is important enough to warrant doing so when I could not ask your permission.”
He had spent over an hour copying Drakonius’ message from memory.
Aradia read it and handed it to Wulfston. “Where did you get this?”
“Drakonius sent that message out last night to four people: Trang, Yolo, Hron, and Lilith. What does it say?”
“You know what it says!” Wulfston exploded angrily, “It’s a trick!”
“No,” Aradia said quickly. “Lenardo speaks our language, but he can’t read it. Besides, we’ll have confirmation soon enough-Hron and Lilith will come to me for a denial of Drakonius’ accusations. Unfortunately, they are partly true.”
“Drakonius has found out where I am?” asked Lenardo. “Or he’s guessing,” Aradia replied.
“He says I am harboring a Reader, planning an attack on him. He further charges that the empire is infiltrating our lands with Readers, who are to ingratiate themselves with the Adepts and then betray them, as Drakonius was betrayed at Adigia.”
“Aradia,” Lenardo asked, “are you betraying Drakonius?” He recalled the blasted shields in the forum at Zendi. “Did you make an alliance with him and then break it?”
“No,” she replied. “The alliances I have made with Lilith and Hron are something new among our people-Adepts swearing loyalty to one another as equals, rather than one person becoming the sworn man of a stronger. Nor am I sworn to Drakonius in the old way, as my father was until Drakonius granted him these lands. I break custom, Lenardo, but I do not break my word.”
“Do you believe I have come here to betray you, as Drakonius accuses?”
“No,” she replied, looking straight into his eyes. “I believe it was Galen who betrayed your empire. Now you have found him, Lenardo. What are you going to do?”
“If I can, I shall get Galen away before Drakonius kills him.”
“Then you admit-?” gasped Wulfston.
“Yes. But I shall go home-if I go home-with far more than I came for. Aradia, the empire thinks all the savages are like Drakonius. But you are not. You took me in when I was helpless, healed me, and showed me the way you live. I got myself exiled by publicly espousing peace with the savages-but I was lying. I didn’t think anyone in the savage lands would make peace with us. But you agreed to help me, and you have much to offer the empire. Just the healing power of an Adept and a Reader working together -think of it! That alone is worth a treaty.”
Aradia smiled sadly. “You are an idealist, Lenardo. Your government is made up of non-Readers. How will you make them understand?”
“I don’t know, but Readers are respected-”
“Readers are feared,” said Wulfston. “Lenardo, I’m too tired to argue, and Aradia must rest too. What are we going to do with you?”
“I have no intention of breaking my promise. I said I’d aid you against Drakonius, and if my Reading can do you any more benefit, I will use it so.”
“You have already foiled Drakonius,” said Aradia. “He knows that I never leave my father for more than a day at a time. Now I am free to move if he threatens. And if it takes long enough for him to gather other Adepts and their armies, he may be shocked to find he has the strength of Nerius to contend with once more.”
“We don’t know-”
“We do know. My father’s Adept powers were never impaired. If his mind is clear, no matter what physical problems linger, he will be able to use his strength against Drakonius. Even if he remains blind��� he is alive and can be guided,” Aradia said firmly. “Lenardo, I must go down to my room now, and Wulfston should rest in his own bed. Will you please go downstairs and send Pepyi to me, and ask Yula to come and keep watch over Father?”
“Yes, my lady.”
She smiled. “That form of address is not necessary in private-in fact, it is inappropriate until you are willing truly to accept me as your lady.”
Lenardo spent the rest of the day Reading the castle while he let everyone assume he was asleep, as Aradia and Wulfston were. Life did not stop in Aradia’s absence. The carpenter was putting the finishing touches on Rren’s new house. The blacksmith was working in the courtyard-but in the middle of the afternoon he put away the farm implements he had been repairing and had the stable boy bring the horses out one by one, changing any worn or imperfect shoe.
Meanwhile, two other men began to inspect the tackle, while a man and a woman started checking gear in the guard room. Soon a fletcher set up shop in the courtyard. By evening, men were bringing wagons of vegetables and carcasses of deer, sheep, and swine. The cook added two men and another woman to his staff and fired up another fireplace, even larger than the one that was always kept going with a roast on the spit.
Preparations for war. The first troops arrived near midnight, collecting their arms from the guard room, being fed even at that hour, and setting up camp on the grassy slope behind the castle.
When Lenardo woke at dawn, there were over a hundred men in the camp, now armed and going through drills. He found breakfast laid out in the great hall, everyone helping himself as Aradia’s staff hovered to replace each empty dish with a full, fresh one. Lenardo encountered Helmuth, herding a group of young men into the hall, telling them, “No more than half an hour, and then I want you all back at the east end of the field. And if we have to drill all day, you’re going to work as a unit! “
He turned to Lenardo, grumbling happily, “These youngsters today-don’t see the point in practice or precision. They all want to be heroes.”
“It’s hard to work together, once battle is joined,” observed Lenardo, noticing that Helmuth was standing straight and looking considerably younger as he strove to be a model soldier for his troops.
“You’re an experienced soldier, are you?” he asked Lenardo.
“I’ve fought my share of��� battles.”
Helmuth laughed and slapped him on the back. “Fought your share of savages, you almost said. Well, now you’re a savage yourself, lad, and if you survived those other battles, we’ll be glad to have you on our side.”
“You trust me?” Lenardo asked in surprise.
“Aradia trusts you,” said Helmuth. “I need no more than that.”
Aradia herself soon appeared, Wulfston at her side, and called for all troop leaders to join her. Helmuth went off with them to another room. Lenardo did not Read then-conference but went back to his room, where he could Read without trying to carry on a conversation at the same time. At the west end of the field, archers were practicing -but never had he seen such consistent accuracy! During the flight of the arrow from release to target, the bowmen became unReadable, yet they were not Adepts. It was just that one skill, to direct the arrow. Apparently it was required of Aradia’s bowmen��� and women, he noted.
Just before sundown, what appeared to be an entire army came marching along the road from the north. When they came into the courtyard, Lenardo went to the window and looked down at them. Heralds blew a tribute on trumpets hung with the sign of the blue lion. A woman rode in, surrounded by men in blue livery. Aradia came out to greet. her as she dismounted, the two women bowing to one another. Then they went inside.
This must be Lilith, one of the Adepts Aradia called her allies. Burning with curiosity, Lenardo forced himself not to Read the women, although not long afterward he heard them come up the stairs and go into Aradia’s chambers.
A few minutes later, Pepyi knocked at his door. “If you please, my lady asks that you attend her.”
The two women were alone in Aradia’s anteroom. As Lenardo entered, Aradia said, “And this, Lilith, is Lenardo, the reason my preparations for battle are so far advanced.”
The other Adept looked him over, and he had the strange feeling she could tell as much about him as if she
had Read him. If Aradia was like the wolf she chose as her symbol-cunning, dangerous, sometimes deceptively playful-Lilith was indeed the regal lion. Her skin was golden, her eyes a golden brown, looking out at him from under a noble brow. She was slightly taller than Aradia, and a headdress of blue veiling gave her additional height, hiding her hair except for a dark widow’s peak that accentuated the smooth planes of her face. While Aradia’s face was mobile and expressive, Lilith’s was aloof, secretive.
“So,” said Lilith in a dangerous voice, “this is your mysterious exile.”
“Hron told you?”
“Yes. He said his people returned a man of this description to you-one who bore the mark of an Aventine exile.” The loose sleeve of Lenardo’s shirt moved of its own accord, to reveal the brand on his arm. Annoyed, he tugged the sleeve back into place and had the satisfaction of seeing Lilith blink. She had been working against gravity to lift it in the first place; they both knew it was not worth the waste of strength to work against Lenardo’s muscle as well.
Watching Lilith’s expression, Aradia said, “Lenardo does not take well to being treated as a possession. On equal terms, however, he is of immense value.”
“Equal terms? How can you trust him, Aradia?”
“You have just confirmed my trust in him,” she replied. “Lenardo, the Lady Lilith has brought me this.” She handed him Drakonius’ message-one of the originals, bearing the now broken dragon seal. “And, Lilith, yesterday Lenardo gave me this.” Lenardo’s version. “I received Drakonius’ message before you did.”
“He must have known I would bring it to you.”
“Hron did not,” Aradia pointed out.
“My watchers report troops massing at Hron’s castle,” said Lilith.
“As do mine,” agreed Aradia, “but he has made no move in this direction.”
Lilith paced to the door. “Hron has always had doubts about our alliance-he fears Drakonius’ retaliation and does not wish to believe Drakonius will turn on us if he succeeds in taking the empire.”