by Sharon Green
"Me?" Cleemor said in surprise, about to protest the need, but then he thought better of the reaction. "All right, yes, you're probably right. Zirdon knows how close we are, just as everyone in the assembly does. If something happens to me you'll be left as 'nothing but a woman,' and Zirdon might then be able to take back control."
"At the very least he'd try, so I do appreciate your agreement," Antrie told him with the sparkle of mischief in her beautiful eyes. "If you'd refused to protect yourself and then had died, I would have been very vexed with you."
"Not as vexed as Tenia would have been," Cleemor countered with a chuckle. "My lovely wife is very firm about how well I'm to take care of myself, and even dead I would not want to have the two of you angry with me. I have the definite feeling I'd know all about that anger, and be made to regret it."
"That's very wise of you, my dear," Antrie said, but then the amusement disappeared from her again. "Have your people had any luck with identifying our hidden enemy? It's no longer likely that Zirdon will be his or her first target, and that's another reason for us to protect ourselves. If we let ourselves become flushed with victory, we could well be handing over the game."
"And that's something we really don't want to do," Cleemor agreed, heaving his own sigh. "No, my people haven't had any luck yet. How about yours?"
"My ladies have found the same nothing," Antrie said, frustration now peeking out of her eyes. "But I've given them a suggestion you might want to pass on to your own people. Instead of trying to find out who the enemy is, it might be easier in this instance to eliminate those it can't be. At worst we'll be left with only two or three suspects, and at best we could conceivably be left with only one."
"That's a good idea, but I have one suggestion," Cleemor said with sudden enthusiasm. "It would be a waste of time and effort for our people to investigate the same suspects, so let's divide the list. With you, me, and Zirdon already eliminated there are twelve assembly members left, meaning six for each group."
"Yes, we could do that, but you must caution your people just as I have," Antrie said with a slow, thoughtful nod. "No one can be eliminated without a concrete reason to back up the elimination, no matter what those doing the investigating believe. I'd rather have multiple suspects than pass by the guilty party because he or she doesn't look guilty."
"That's more than reasonable," Cleemor agreed again, rubbing his face as he considered the matter. "I'll pass along the word, and hopefully in a day or two we'll have only one or two people to worry about instead of twelve. Are you going to the competitions this afternoon for our Blendingmates? Your protection might not stand up properly if one of your Blending members is defeated."
"I've thought of that, so I'm definitely going to the competitions later," Antrie told him as she stopped near her carriage. "This competition couldn't have come at a worse time, but there's no help for it. I'm hoping that my Blendingmates are strong enough to successfully defend their places, as I'd hate to have to start over with a new member or members just at this time."
"Not now, and not when – rather than if – the five from Gandistra show up," Cleemor growled, more bothered than annoyed. The monthly competitions among Middle talents for places in the fifteen Blendings couldn't possibly be suspended or even delayed, but Cleemor certainly wished they could be. Things were getting far more complicated than he had a taste for…
Chapter 15
Ebro Syant wasn't a happy man despite the fairly nice weather they had for the competitions. Too many things had happened to affect his plans, and now in addition to everything else it was time for another competition.
This section of the park was reserved for the competitions, and fifteen comfortable chairs had again been placed around a fairly large circle of grass where the competitions took place. Behind each of the fifteen chairs were four smaller ones, now filled with the Middle talent members of each Blending. A short distance behind the four chairs were rows and lines of benches for spectators, and the fact that they were well filled wasn't to Ebro's taste. Competitions for Middle places in a Blending weren't as important as the ones for major talent, but even these ought to be held somewhere private. Once he began to run the assembly, things would quickly change…
But he wasn't yet in a position to run the assembly, and remembering that for the hundredth time almost made him move in his chair with annoyance. Just a few more days and he would have eliminated that Lorimon woman and Cleemor Gardan, leaving behind indications that Zirdon Tal was responsible for the deed. Tal would have been quickly put down, and then there would have been no one in Ebro Syant's way to full control of the assembly and empire. He might have had to work through that man Olskin Dinno, but he, Ebro Syant, would have been in complete control. But now…
"It's almost time for your people to compete, Exalted One," some official of the competitions appeared to say, pulling Ebro from the depths of his thoughts. "I'm sure they'll do just as well as those talents who have competed before them."
"Yes, I'm sure they will," Ebro agreed with his best vague expression, smiling in the man's direction. "Thank you for letting me know."
The official bowed with his own smile and then moved away, reacting to Ebro's act the way most people did. That official would tell himself he was superior to Ebro in every way but where talent was concerned, and for that reason would dismiss Ebro completely. It was the way Ebro wanted it, but this afternoon the necessity was more galling than usual. If it wasn't absolutely essential to hide his brilliance…
But it was essential, since those who were short and heavy weren't permitted to be brilliant. In order to be tolerated by the tall, pretty people, he had to be considered a nonentity, otherwise they would quickly do something to get rid of him. Or worse, they would hurt him until he crawled away to find a corner in which to die. He refused to let that happen, so he had to find a way to be in charge.
Polite but approving applause came from the benches all around, drawing Ebro's conscious attention to the last competition. Antrie Lorimon's Blendingmates had retained their positions earlier, as had Cleemor Gardan's. One of the other assembly major talents had lost two members of his old Blending, and now Zirdon Tal had lost one of his. Tal looked completely unconcerned where he sat in his chair, but Ebro knew that Tal had to be seething on the inside. It was always such a bother when a new Middle talent had to be brought into one's Blending, and Tal didn't need any additional problems at the moment.
Just as Ebro didn't need more. It would probably be possible to stay with his previous plan to eliminate Lorimon and Gardan, but now Tal had an excellent, very visible motive to do away with the two. If too much evidence was left pointing to Tal, people might become suspicious and decide that Tal was being blamed for something he hadn't done. If too little evidence was left, Tal might be able to talk himself out of being found guilty. Not to mention the fact that Ebro still had to investigate what Lorimon had told them about the situation with Gandistra. If Lorimon, Gardan, and Tal were taken out of the picture right now, would there be time to establish full control before that High Blending appeared?
Ebro was pulled out of his thoughts again, this time by the movement of the members of his Blending rising from their chairs. It was time for the four of them to defend their positions, and they walked out to the center of the circle with casual confidence. All four of them were really very strong for Middle talents, so it wasn't very likely that they would be displaced.
A servant stood with a glass and a pitcher of something that ought to be cold and sweet, so Ebro gestured her over. The servant had been stationed near him by the officials running the competitions, but Ebro still examined the girl briefly as she poured his drink. If he decided he wanted her, he could find a way to get her. But the sweet and friendly smile she offered along with the filled glass showed Ebro that she wasn't his type despite her pretty face and attractive figure.
In the very short time Ebro had been distracted, the first of the four competitions had been set to begin.
Ebro's Fire magic user stood ten paces from his challenger, both of them waiting for permission to start. The two were probably fairly equal in talent, so it wasn't talent they used to compete with but manipulation of the power itself. It was possible to be strong in talent and still hesitant in dealing with the power, which would naturally affect the user's ability. One could be born with an orator's ability, but the talent would be useless if the person was afraid to speak aloud.
An official rang a small copper bell, and the two Fire magic talents bent a fractional distance toward each other. It wasn't possible for those of other talents to perceive anything concrete even if it was the power being used, but it wasn't long before the results of the contest itself were visible. Ebro's Fire magic user was forced back two full steps, and the girl who had challenged him stood victorious.
Ebro needed to use every bit of control he possessed to keep from cursing under his breath. Even that small a response would have been out of character, but what reaction could have been more natural? On top of everything else, he now had a new member to add to – and condition for – his Blending. One problem after another…
During the next few minutes, Ebro went from extremely annoyed to furiously angry. He'd made sure that the members of his Blending couldn't speak out against him on any subject at all without committing suicide the way that girl had, but they'd found a way to escape him. One after another they'd all lost their competitions, which had to mean they'd found a way to plot against him. To consider the losses a coincidence would have been mindless, and Ebro was as far from that as humanly possible.
But gibbering insanity wasn't that far off, and Ebro had to fight harder than ever before to keep himself from killing those four turncoats. But he couldn't kill them, not without bringing himself to the attention of those who might see through his pretense, something he couldn't afford to let happen. Had the four known his hands would be so thoroughly tied? Had they counted on his need for secrecy to keep them safe after they betrayed him?
Ebro knew that the answer to those questions was probably yes, that his former Blendingmates had known the truth. Hatred for those people seeped out of Ebro's very blood to poison his entire being, and afterward he had no idea how he managed to control himself. Now, at a time when he needed to be free to consider his moves against his greatest rivals in the assembly, he had to waste time bringing new Blending members under his control.
But he would not be under unreasonable constraint forever. Ebro smiled faintly to himself, forcing his hatred to understand that those tall and pretty fools who used to be his Blendingmates would also not remain safe forever. As soon as people no longer had their attention on four unimportant, former Blending members, those four would find just how long his reach was. The knowledge would only be with them a short while, but during that short while they would wish they had never even thought about betraying and deserting him, they surely would…
* * *
Lodria Angar considered herself the best among the group of women who were Antrie Lorimon's eyes and ears. For that reason Lodria got herself into the position of being the appointed servant of Ebro Syant at the competitions. Syant was one of those Lodria's group had been asked to investigate, and as soon as Lodria turned her attention to the man she began to wonder about him. Everyone seemed to consider Syant a complete nonentity despite the strength of his talent, and that attitude was odd in itself.
Most people have at least one other person who will speak up for them, but Syant wasn't the same. He'd associated himself with Zirdon Tal, but Lodria had never seen Syant even try to get into Tal's immediate group of cronies. A real nonentity would have tried to attach himself to someone of importance and power in order to live vicariously through that other person, but Syant had never made such an effort. Lodria had watched enough assembly meetings from the observers' benches to be certain of that, and it didn't make sense.
So, when a closer inspection was called for, Lodria became Syant's servant for the afternoon. A personal servant was supposed to watch his or her Exalted One closely to see if he or she needed something, and that made her staring at the man expected and required behavior rather than noticeable rudeness. And it turned out to be a good thing Lodria was there…
Sixty people stood one at a time in the grass circle to answer a challenge, but the contests never lasted more than a minute or two. For that reason it wasn't quite forever before Lodria was freed from her position as servant by Syant's leaving, it only felt like forever. She returned to the serving tent to hand over the pitcher and glass she was responsible for, made sure to collect her payment for the afternoon, and then left the park.
Lodria started back toward the small house she shared with her sisters, but as soon as she was certain there was no one about to see her, she headed for Antrie Lorimon's house instead. A small side gate leading onto the property was opened at Lodria's knock, and as soon as no one was able to see her Lodria picked up her skirts and ran as fast as possible to the house.
Happily, Antrie sat alone in her study working on some papers. Lodria made certain of that by peeking through the keyhole, and only then did she straighten again and knock.
"Exalted One, I found your enemy!" Lodria blurted as soon as she opened the door after being given permission to enter. "Of course, I did start out being suspicious, and my suspicions were confirmed. It's definitely him."
"Lodria, calm down," Antrie directed with amusement as she gestured to a chair. "At the same time you can also sit down, and then start from the beginning."
"I'm sorry, Antrie, but having to wait to tell you all about what I saw has turned me into a scatterbrain," Lodria apologized after closing the study door firmly behind herself. "To begin with, the man I'm talking about is Ebro Syant. I've suspected for some time that he isn't what he seems, and this afternoon I got confirmation."
Lodria was at the chair by then, so she sank down onto it while Antrie considered what had been said, her brows raised in surprised thought. As a Middle talent who had been displaced from a Blending, Lodria had thought all interest had gone from her life along with her former position. When Antrie Lorimon had quietly approached her and asked if she were interested in doing something unusual, the world had brightened again…
"I'm ashamed to say that I never even considered Ebro Syant," Antrie admitted after a moment, now leaning back in her chair. "I took the man at face value, and never thought about what might lie beneath the surface. What happened that confirmed your suspicions of him?"
"Well, at first he was just as lumpish and dull-looking as always," Lodria answered with a wave of her hand. "You know, paying little or no attention to what went on around him? Yes, well, then his Blendingmates were called to answer the challenges, and when the first one lost I thought Syant would growl out loud like an animal. But he didn't, and instead went back to looking lumpish, but this time on purpose. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Yes, I think I do," Antrie agreed, a gleam of understanding in her eyes. "At first the lumpishness looked natural, but afterward it didn't."
"Exactly," Lodria confirmed with a nod, moving around in her chair. "There was always the chance I was imagining things, so I watched him very carefully after that – even though I didn't have to. When the second, third, and fourth members of his Blending lost their challenges, I thought Syant would explode into little pieces."
"All the members of his Blending lost their places?" Antrie echoed as she suddenly sat forward again, her tone having turned sharp. "That will teach me not to pay attention to what I foolishly think of as the unimportant. I've never heard of something like that happening before, and the fact that it's happened now leads me to believe that there's nothing of coincidence involved. If all of them lost their places, then they wanted to lose."
"Why would anyone want to lose their place in a Blending?" Lodria demanded, shocked into speaking almost harshly. "Once you know what Blending is like, losing it means losing part of your soul. How could anyone do that on purpose?"
"The answer to that question has to be a very painful one," Antrie responded with a flash of sympathy. "If there's something about being in the Blending that's completely intolerable, then your only option is to leave that Blending. I hate to think how bad it had to be for all four of them to take that same, horrible way out."
"But why didn't they tell people what was going on instead?" Lodria asked, the words begging for understanding. "Why did they have to throw away what they'd earned instead? Wouldn't the assembly have paid attention if all four of them complained together?"
"The assembly would have investigated at the very least, so your objection is a good one," Antrie said, suddenly looking thoughtful again. "They should have gotten together to protest whatever was bothering them, so why didn't they? Why didn't they just – Oh, no! Ebro Syant's talent is Earth magic."
"So is mine," Lodria responded with a shrug of confusion. "What does that have to do with – No, you can't be thinking that he did something to keep them from telling people what the problem was. They were his Blendingmates!"
"And he's a High talent," Antrie pointed out as she rose from her chair and turned to a row of beautifully carved cabinets ranged against the wall behind her desk. "If he took them by surprise one at a time, they would have been helpless against him. And I've just remembered an odd report I was given a while ago, about the girl Ebro claimed not long after he won his place as major talent. I dismissed the report at the time, just as everyone who knew about it did, but now…"
Antrie's silence had an obviously grim overtone as she began to search, and Lodria fought to keep from being physically ill. The thought of misusing a talent, especially a High talent, was sickening, and Lodria couldn't picture anyone evil enough to do it.
"Yes, here it is," Antrie said as she pulled out a thin stack of papers from one of the cabinet drawers. "Ebro was supposedly crushed when the girl died, and he hasn't yet chosen another to take her place. But the girl choked to death apparently trying to say something, a something everyone assumed was a plea for help against whatever was causing her to choke."