Bannor ran a hand through his hair. “Eclipse? The same Eclipse I felt that Quasar had been separated from?”
“She came to help Sarai,” Bannor said. “There were problems with her baby this morning. In fact, there might be something you can do to help.”
He fidgeted a bit under those intense dark eyes. “To put it simply, Sarai doesn’t have the body energy needed to nourish the baby.”
Dulcere frowned.
“Well, apparently Cassandra can make some kind of artifice like your stones,” he pointed to the jewel glowing softly against the skin below Dulcere’s collarbone. “That can sustain the baby. Until then, Sarai needs regular doses of something called ‘biophase’ to maintain herself and the baby. Our friend Wren can do it but it’s—ummm, inconvenient and uncomfortable. Wren says I can do it too, I just need to learn how. Could your artifice teach me how to do that?”
“Yes, I think it does.” He heard the pipes now playing another tune. The sonorous sounds were played with an exquisite ability and fluidity. His brow furrowed. “Is Corim doing that?”
“Patience is a virtue?”
Dulcere smiled.
“Another question. You spoke about learning a language. Does that include reading and writing?”
“Yes. So, are these artifices the only way you can teach me?”
He let out a breath knowing the correctness of that statement. He didn’t like the idea of being magicked by one of those alien artifices though. Sarai was worth a little discomfort though. Maybe just one jolt of discomfort and get it over with. Then he could focus on other things.
“Let’s say I just wanted to just get it done; the whole wedding ceremony, the two languages, and the energy training. Could that all be done at once?”
Dulcere’s eyes widened and she pressed her lips together.
“I had Daena’s whole language crammed into my head with telepathy. I still hurt just remembering it. For Sarai, I’d do that again. We have a lot riding on my ability to satisfy Malan, my wife to be, helping with the Baronian thing… I need to catch up. I need that extra edge so I can do that. I’m uncomfortable with it—but I think it needs to be done.”
“That’s all right, Sarai and I have to meet with the King and Queen for lunch.”
“So, did I miss anything?” Corim asked stepping into the room. He had a set of gold elven pipes in his hand. “I got involved in playing around and forgot Dulcere could just warp you here.”
Dulcere said.
Corim leaned back and winced. He rubbed his temple self-consciously. “All at once? Friend, that’s going to hurt.”
“Don’t worry,” Bannor answered. “I’ve been hurt before…”
* * *
Chapter Twenty
Royal Lunch
« ^ »
I have come to accept there are elves who will hate humans simply for being different. It is their right and privilege to have their own minds. I hardly see Sarai’s “differences” it is the whole person that I love. I hope it is the same for her…
—Bannor Nalthane Starfist,
Prince Conjugal of Malan
In a flare of light, a tangle of universal threads and a rush of air Bannor was standing back on the balcony where he’d been standing only a short time before. Wren and Sarai were no longer there. Bannor took a moment to lean on the railing and soak up the scene of Green Run. The carpet of trees, the water and animals, it was all a breath of serenity. He would have to choose his moments of peace. He sensed there wouldn’t be much in the future. There had been lots of talking, lots of easily solved problems, that meant pain would be lurking on the road ahead. Best to brace for it now.
He turned back to their chambers listening for the sound of Wren and Sarai’s voices. The large octagon shaped room with the huge hearth at the center lay empty. The bath chamber door was open and no sounds emanated from the stone-worked interior. The bed, dressing alcoves, and closet were all empty as well.
Out in the hall, he heard voices in the main chambers and headed that way. He found Wren and Sarai in the conference circle apparently chatting about something. They stopped though as he entered. Sarai had dressed since and now wore her court robes with the silver chasing. She’d braided her hair back and pinned it with combs.
“My One, that was fast,” Sarai said with a smile. She glanced to the entry door and her brow furrowed. “Do you suppose that popping around is going to become commonplace?”
He shrugged. “It took me by surprise as much as you.”
“So,” she asked. “What happened?”
Bannor rubbed the back of his head. “Nothing. We just talked.” He sighed and shook his head.
She tilted her head, violet eyes searching his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, when I was there, Corim had already learned the pipe song for the ceremony. Not that I’m any expert, it sounded good.”
“Why the sigh over that?” Sarai said.
“Because nothing is ever easy for me,” he answered walking over to join them. “If it’s that easy for him, I just know somehow I’m going to get ripped up.”
“You know, you are due for a luck change,” Wren said with a grin.
“Has yours?”
Wren rolled her eyes. “Good point.”
“So,” Sarai prompted. “What about the lessons?”
“This afternoon,” he said, sitting down beside her. “After our meeting with your parents.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Are you feeling better?”
Sarai put her hand on top of his and rubbed his knuckles. “Wren gave me that third charge and now I feel great. We were just discussing the wedding and Cassandra’s request for an invitation. That was something of a surprise.”
“Why?” Bannor wond
ered. “This is the first marriage in your family for decades. The party will be huge—at least that’s the gossip I’ve heard. I have no idea myself, I can’t really grasp what’s been planned.”
“I suppose…” Sarai said, voice trailing off.
Wren shook her head. “I told Sarai the same. Cassandra said they were on vacation. So, the wine request and joining in on a big party make sense to me. They’re ready to relax. Their family has fought a lot recently, largely on my account.”
“Your account?” Bannor repeated.
“Yes,” Wren answered with a nod. “See, about eight summers ago I was like you. I didn’t know I was a savant. I was just a Brethren guilder in Corwin doing guilder things. Then Hethanon and his Cult of the Dagger, tore into our guild and killed nearly everyone. I barely escaped. Hethanon was looking for our guild-mistress Desiray Illkaren-Felspar, known in Ivaneth as Whitelock.”
“Whitelock?” Sarai asked. “The crime-lord Whitelock?”
Wren nodded. “She is also a member of the Band of the Crescent Moon. Anyways, I went hunting for Desiray and got a Sovereign of Isis to teleport me to Ivaneth where I had heard she had last been seen.”
“It’s her guild in Corwin, and you couldn’t find her?”
Wren held up her hand. “Trust me, I was pretty hacked about it myself. The guild got slaughtered while her delegates made a mess of things. Meanwhile, she was off partying somewhere.” She made a growling sound. “Anyways, I went to Ivaneth to speak to the high wizard there, who we had heard could contact Desiray.”
“King Edmund’s high wizard?” Bannor said. “Even I’ve heard of him.”
“Him.” Wren sniffed. “Right. That gold lady you just met—Cassandra. She is the high wizard of Ivaneth. I learned the truth of that hard way. Seems several mages have been the ‘high wizard’ they all use shape-shifting to maintain the façade of a man who’s been retired for four decades and dead for two. Anyways, I found it next to impossible to get to see the ‘wizard’… so I—”
“Snuck in?” Sarai prompted.
Wren shot her a look. “Entered covertly. I didn’t find the wizard, I found Cassandra. From there, things got complicated. In telling Desiray about the raid on our guild, Cassandra recognized the leader as avatar Hethanon of Set. Apparently, she and Set have some history. So, she wanted to get involved and help kill Hethanon. She bullied me into testing a new weapon against him, an Istar-wand named Corona. The fight did not go well, we beat him but I ended up poisoned and crippled. So, since there was no more guild, they sent me to house Felspar to recuperate. While I stayed with them I learned about my being a savant.
“It was during that time I had the unfortunate occasion to meet Avatar Mishaka. That fight didn’t go well either. She slaughtered an entire Ishtarian congregation and killed my—” She took a breath. “My best friend. The experience really took me apart. The Felspars took care of me—I probably would have died on my own. It was from Mishaka that I found out that she had been keeping my birth parents captive. When I finally got better, the only thing on my mind was getting my parents back. The whole thing turned into a war. We fought ten of Hecate’s avatars. The Felspar citadel was over-run and we were forced to evacuate. Eventually, I did find my parents, and confronted Mishaka, Hethanon, and Hecate herself. Mishaka, I put an end to. Hethanon was dispersed and Hecate run off.”
Sarai stared at Wren with wide eyes. “I had no idea. That’s why Hecate hated you so much?”
Wren ran a hand through her hair. “It actually went a bit deeper than that, it was the root of it though.”
“Wait,” Bannor said. “You ran Hecate off. You confronted Hecate at her full power. How? Even when,” he glanced at Sarai. “Even when she’d limited herself, it took everything I had. She beat the tar out of you that night.”
Wren frowned. “When I confronted Hecate, I had done a magical combining with my mother and Ziedra. At the end of the battle, I had merged with an immortal body which made me a lot like Daena is now. It allowed me to take control of and use Starholme Prime, the central power source for savants. I can’t really describe what that’s like, but one pantheon lord,” She shook her head. “I could have smashed her if it wouldn’t have killed everyone I was trying to protect. I had to satisfy myself with forcing her to promise to leave my family alone. As you know, that truce didn’t last long.”
Sarai was staring at Wren. She didn’t bother to ask Bannor if the blonde savant was telling the truth. Wren didn’t make up stories like that. It was the kind of story he told. He had killed Hecate and confronted Odin, two other gods had been nearly killed as a result of his actions. Wren’s story was not nearly so far-fetched with those things in perspective.
His fiancé rose and went over to the couch opposite and sat next to Wren. She put a hand on her shoulder. “Wren, I apologize.”
The blue-eyed savant frowned. “What for?”
“I have thought some terrible things about you. I knew you and Hecate had history, and that some of it was personal. I never realized how truly egregious it was. I remember how shocked you were, when my sister claimed to have met you—you had mentioned that it had been a person posing as you. Back then, I didn’t believe—not really. We’ve been through a lot and I know you better now.”
“It’s okay,” Wren said, patting Sarai’s shoulder. “I know how crazy it all must have sounded. I guess it takes having some of the craziness happening to you to finally believe such wild stories.”
“There is something I don’t understand,” Bannor said. “If that happened eight summers ago, the Felspars are still out of sorts?”
“Well, the big fight with Hecate was about five summers ago. See in the conflict, Loric stole Hecate’s entire treasury from the temple in Stonewood Kingdom. I made Hecate promise to leave my family alone, not the Felspars. Because of other incidents, Hecate also declared war on the Frielos family. So, the two families have been butting heads with her all along up until you put an end to her.”
“That explains Thanos knowing something about me,” Bannor said.
Wren snapped her fingers, her face brightening with sudden enthusiasm. “Oh wow, how could I have forgotten!? Aarlen was offering a bounty on Hecate’s followers and avatars. You should collect on that!”
“A bounty?”
“You bet!” Wren said. “Aarlen offered a hundred thousand gold talons for slaying any avatar of Hecate. Killing Hecate herself has got to be worth at least that!”
“A hundred th-thousand?” Bannor stammered with wide eyes. “You could buy a city with that!”
Wren smiled. “Or the clothes in Sarai’s closet.”
Sarai looked at Wren sidelong.
“Aarlen never mentioned anything…” Bannor said.
“Being more nice doesn’t mean she’s more generous. You’d have to claim the bounty. It doesn’t cost anything to try. What’s the worst that can happen?” She shrugged. “Aarlen may need you for the investigation, so she’s going to think favorably to paying. You took a lot off her head by getting rid of that witch Hecate.”
“That would be huge. I wouldn’t be poor.” Bannor said in wonderment. “How come you never mentioned it before?”
“You jest? I’ve been trying to forget the whole unfortunate adventure. Remember, me—jail cell—Hella…” Her voice dropped. “Torture…”
“Ah, right. Stupid of me, I’m sorry.”
“My one, I would take what she says very seriously and pursue it if true. You having money of your own would do a lot to ease tension among the nobility, especially if you purchase a title.”
He frowned at her. “Purchase a title? I didn’t think elves did such things!”
She drew a breath. “Politics, Bannor, they are the same, human or elf. We are just less bloody about it.”
“Sir Starfist,” Wren said with a smile. “Has a nice ring to it.” She shrugged. “Anyone who knows you, knows you have more than enough tenacity to be a knight. Laramis knows Lord Terrantil, I bet he’d vouchsafe for a
Justicar title provided you tithed the proper amount.”
“A Justicar,” Bannor shook his head. “You’re funny. I can’t even read… the… warrants.”
Wren tilted her head. “Aren’t you going to fix that?”
“Well, I’ll worry about it if Aarlen wants to pay. I can’t even imagine that kind of money. My stipend for the Tenax rangers was fifty gold a score-day. By the standards of my mountain neighbors I was well-to-do, but any time I came into a big city I realized what a pittance it was. Fifty barely covered getting a decent sword.”
Matronly Psendra entered from the back hall dark skirts rustling as she glided over the stone floor. She stopped by Sarai’s elbow and leaned down and spoke in rapid Elvish. She glanced at Bannor, cleared her throat and added something else.
The best he could capture from it was something about mid-day supper and something about him.
The elf lady bowed and turned with a whirl of skirts and glided out.
Bannor growled as he watched her go. “What have I ever done to offend that woman?”
Sarai grinned. “You seduced me, you wicked wicked man.” She leaned forward and smacked his knee with a laugh. “You turned the little blushing girl she helped raise into the father-defying monster I am today.”
He shook his head. “Riiight.”
“It’s the shoulders,” Wren said. “That’s what the court ladies titter. She likes men with broad—”
Sarai shoved against Wren. “You will not repeat that crass jest.” She sobered almost instantly. “Mother wants us at supper in a half bell. You have to dress nice. There’s an unexpected guest—uncle Bertrand.”
Bannor raised an eyebrow. “Oh this is going to be—fun. Interesting timing, considering what we saw this morning.”
“What did you see?” Wren asked.
“My uncle was doing something suspicious is all,” Sarai said with a hard stare at Bannor. “Nothing that would point to any allegations however.”
Reality's Plaything 3: Eternal's Agenda Page 36