With a sinking heart, Ninianee said, “Whatever suits you, Hircaj, is acceptable to me.”
“Very good. I could see that you’re a sensible woman, Duzeon. Amejgon, go ask the Housekeeper-General to assign a human woman to serve our guest, someone with experience in dealing with the nobility of her kind. Tell her to make herself available in an hour. The Duzeon will require her attention before we take our evening meal.” He rose from his bench, hunching up his wings to keep from scraping them on the ivory. He waved a dismissing two fingers at Amejgon, then, coming toward Ninianee, he gave her a frankly approving perusal. “I am most happy to see you here, Duzeon. Vildecaz has much to be thankful for in you, I think.” He motioned to another of the pages to come to him. “Fetch a bowl of hot wine for the Duzeon, and a tray of sweetmeats. She is in need of some sustenance. Also tell the Cook-Major that we will dine two hours after sunset.”
“It’s not necessary, Hircaj, I assure you. I am willing to wait for the meal tonight. You have offered me more than enough for now.” Not that I will be in any position to eat, Ninianee added to herself. The time was slipping by and she had no wish to linger with Chogrun. She needed to find a safe place to spend the night. The hour of the banquet mattered little to her, since she would not be able to partake of it. “Since there is some time before the banquet, I would like to bathe and rest, if that would not disaccommodate you.”
“And so you shall,” said Hircaj Chogrun. “I will order the human bath-house heated for you. In an hour, you can soak the chill out of your bones.” His smile was disquieting, revealing his sharp teeth more clearly. “For now, the wine will warm you, and the sweetmeats will provide strength.”
It would be impossibly rude to refuse these courteous displays of reception as a guest here, Ninianee knew, and the insult of refusing would have dire implications for any further dealings with the Hirc of Cazboarth. If she were not Duzeon, she might have risked such an affront, but couldn’t bring herself to compromise all of Vildecaz for her momentary convenience. It was frustrating to have to weigh all these considerations when all she wanted was to ensure their safety as well as her own by getting out of the Castle, and quickly. But as much as she wanted to remove herself from the place, she couldn’t bring herself to offend her host so egregiously. “That would be most welcome,” she said, feeling defeated.
“Excellent,” approved Hircaj Chogrun. He snapped his long, long fingers and the page scurried off to attend to the orders given. “It won’t be long before he returns – half an hour at most.”
That seemed to be far longer than Ninianee wanted to wait, with sunset coming on. “Perhaps I should have the wine in my quarters? My appearance is hardly suitable to a Court function, beyond the most perfunctory.”
“Which is why I suggested postponing the Welcoming Ritual for Guests – which is similar to your Meal Rite for Visitors.” He inclined his head but made no respect. “I don’t mind if you take a while to recover yourself.”
“Very kind of you, Hircaj,” she said, following the etiquette of Court.
“Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to wait until the middle of the night for a meal. We’ll dine two hours after sunset, which should give you just enough time to make ready.” Chogrun stretched out one of his gigantic wings and sighed. “I, too, must make my appearance more suitable for the Welcoming Ritual.” He touched the golden links hanging down over his chest. “Armor, even dress armor, is unsuitable for the Welcoming Ritual.” He moved toward one of the tallest arches, but stopped, as if suddenly taken with a thought. “Duzeon, if you would, tell me more about what mission brings you here.”
There was a restive silence between Duzeon Ninianee and Hircaj Chogrun, one which she broke, saying, “I am searching for my father, Duz Nimuar, who vanished some time ago. We had one possible manifestation of him after he departed, but we gained little from it. It is my hope to learn something of where he has gone, and why. If he is a captive, it must be my purpose to secure his release. If he has been impelled by enchantment, I will discover its source.”
“Very honorable. Just what one would expect of Nimuar’s daughters, from what we have been told. We have heard tales of Duz Nimuar’s disappearance, but I set little stock by the lurid details. Perhaps you could tell me what happened, and I will ask among my Bindomajes if they have seen anything that might help you.”
“Very generous of you,” said Ninianee. “Yet I would like to visit the harbor, to see if any mariners can tell me of – “
”Sailors’ tales tend to improve in their repetition, to liven the days at sea and the hours in the taverns ashore. Even if there is truth somewhere in the fable, for the most part, you can learn little of use from any of the men from the ships.” Hircaj Chogrun flicked his long fourth finger in her direction. “We’ll keep the banquet short – no more than two hours. With this preparatory time, you should be abed by the fourth hour after sunset, and need not rise until mid-morning, if that pleases you. We do not keep Court hours for our guests. Give yourself this evening and your night’s rest to recover from your travels. If you must ask seafarers what they know, do it with a rested body and a clear mind.”
“You are most kind, Hircaj,” said Ninianee in her best Court form, “but I don’t want to waste any opportunity to – “
”Duzeon Ninianee,” he said patiently, “I don’t question your devotion to your father, and I won’t think the less of you if you take the time to restore yourself in order to continue your search for him.”
“That may require longer than either of us anticipates,” she said with a hitch of a laugh. “I don’t want to abuse your graciousness, Hircaj, but I fear I must do if I – ” She stopped herself.
“If you?” Chogrun prompted, then held up his two fingers as a messenger approached him and whispered something to him. “And what did he tell you.”
The messenger said something more, very softly, then added, “He swears this is true.”
“How perplexing,” said Hircaj Chogrun, plucking at his broad lower lip with his long little finger. “Hold him until I come – politely.”
“As you wish, Hircaj,” said the messenger and with drew with a profound respect.
“The unexpected arrival?” said Ninianee, trying not to be curious about this other new-comer.
“I fear I must shortly go to him and hear what he has to say. As soon as your hot wine arrives, if you will permit, I will deal with this fellow.” He wings quivered as if stirred by wind.
This was the first hint of a possible reprieve, and Ninianee took full advantage of it. “You must attend to the visitor at once. I don’t mind waiting for my wine.” She thought she might be able to get to the stable-paddocks and from there find a place to hide for the night.
“You are kindness itself, Duzeon,” said Hircaj Chogrun, making his way to the arch and respecting her. “I will return as soon as I can. Don’t wait upon me to drink your wine or eat.”
“As you wish, Hircaj,” said Ninianee, her respect as profound as his had been. She watched as he trudged away down the corridor, her sense of anticipation increasing as the Hircaj’s footfalls faded. A moment later a single remaining page hurried after Chogrun, and the Reception Hall became remarkably quiet. There was no one attending upon her, or not obviously.
As soon as she was sure she was alone – or as alone as she could be – Ninianee made a quick circuit of the room, discovering a half-hidden passageway behind Chogrun’s ivory bench, reminding herself with each step she took that this might well be a trap.
There was a wedge of fading light at the end of it, and Ninianee recalled what she had heard about the Hircaj’s private entrance to the Reception Hall. She hurried into it and struggled to climb the steep slant of the floor toward the door at the far end. By the time she reached it, she felt the first tug of the Change within her, and she stifled a sob of vexation. She reached to open the door, and found herself three storeys above the ground on a narrow ledge that had no stairs. “Bontaj!” she swore, then added,
“Gremmi, gremmi, gremmi bontaj!” punctuating this profanation with sharp blows of her fist against the door. She slipped back into the corridor, letting the door close behind her. “Prey, not predator. Prey, not predator,” she muttered as she did whenever the Change caught her indoors. She huddled in the passageway, her hands clenched as she shuddered.
“She’s in the private entry,” said a page as Hircaj Chogrun returned, followed by three Bindomajes and two men.
“Best get a net,” said Chogrun.
Ninianee could hear them, but as if from a great distance. “Prey, not predator.” She squinted at her hands, and saw to her horror that they were now paws covered in pearl-colored fur. As she opened her hands, she saw claws. “Crag-lion,” she wailed, although her voice became a yowl before she could say anything more. At least she was a small Crag-lion, not the same size as the cats usually became.
“Let me stay with her,” said a voice she thought she recognized as she struggled to pull out of her boots, brikes, and pelgar just before her new body could ruin her clothes. The cold of the Castle started to sink into her, but stopped as the Change progressed, covering her in the mottled grey pelt of the Crag-lion. As a last human act, she tossed aside the garments. Then a shadow fell across her and she flinched, feeling the Crag-lion prepare to strike, an impulse she did her best to stop. Her final articulate thought for the night was I hope I don’t hurt anyone.
* * *
“I have a message from Duzeon Erianthee,” Poyneilum Zhanf said to Hoftstan Ruch as they closed the door to the room Zhanf had claimed as his own in Vildecaz Castle. The sun was almost down and the fire had been lit so that the room was beginning to warm.
“I didn’t know a messenger had come,” said Hoftstan, curiosity and concern vying for control of his face.
“Not that kind of message, although a written one may yet come. This was on a traveling spell – she sensibly sent more images than words, you know, recollections from specific instances and encounters that bother her. I’ll recall it for you if you like? No? Then I’ll sum up its contents, if you don’t mind.” He could sense Hoftstan’s impatience, and went on quickly, “She’s concerned about what is happening at Court. This is not the kind of worry she has experienced on previous visits. There is more tension in the air. She feels the pressure she has experienced before has increased significantly since her last visit, and it distresses her.” He paused. “I also have the impression that she thinks her sister is here at Vildecaz.”
“She may think so,” said Hoftstan carefully. “I don’t know that they had agreed upon a time for Ninianee to depart.”
“Why would she not know? From what we were told, I assumed – ” He stopped, tapped his lower lip with his finger. “Perhaps the Duzeons didn’t agree on Ninianee’s search as much as we thought they did. Perhaps Ninianee was acting on her own? No? Do you think she’s incapable of doing such a thing?”
“She’s not a deceptive woman,” said Hoftstan, but admitted to himself that she was head-strong.
“No, only about this and the full moon. And it begins tonight.” Zhanf slapped his hands together as if to rid them of dust. He caught the look of dismay in Hoftstan’s eyes. “Aha! I haven’t imagined it, then. Are you the one who cloaks her with spells during – ”
”Not I. Duz Nimuar set up a full moon spell to guard her. He reinforced it regularly so that she wouldn’t be without protection. It still functions within the Castle, but not so much beyond the walls, and once off the Castle estate, it has faded almost completely,” Hoftstan admitted. “I try to reinforce the spell between full moons, as he instructed me, so that the spell will remain strong enough to help her. I would feel more certain if I knew more of her condition. For now, I can only manage the Castle and estate, but nothing beyond here.”
“Do you know what happens to her?” Zhanf asked, now deeply inquisitive.
“No, not specifically. She never discusses it. She stays away from people during the three nights of the full moon,” said Hoftstan, clearly uncomfortable with admitting so much. “It began nine – almost ten years ago, and whatever overtakes her, she has been at pains to conceal it.”
“Does Erianthee know about this?” Zhanf’s brows rose speculatively.
“I think she helps Ninianee,” Hoftstan said. “She knows much more about it than I do.”
“You’re certain of that? That she helps her sister.”
“Yes, Magsto, I am,” said Hoftstan, taking umbrage at so many questions.
Zhanf smiled self-deprecatingly. “I mean no slight to you, Hoftstan Ruch.”
Hoftstan frowned but said, “I didn’t think you did.” It was close enough to the truth that he didn’t mind saying it. “I remember that the last time Erianthee went to Court, Ninianee would go on journeys around the borders of Vildecaz for more than a week at a time, but the week always included the nights of the full moon. She only stayed at the Castle for one full moon – the Frozen Moon, and even then we didn’t see her at night.”
“Nimuar keeps festival at that time, doesn’t he?”
“The Duzes of Vildecaz have done so for three centuries,” said Hoftstan with a touch of pride.
“A considerable tradition,” said Zhanf. “One that we must uphold in his absence.” He stared at the far wall. “Does Maeshar of Otsinmohr attend the festival?”
“Usually he does, with friends. Why?” Hoftstan regarded Zhanf closely. “Does this seem unwise to you?” He waited for Zhanf to speak, and when he didn’t, he added, “He might not want to bother if Ninianee isn’t here.”
“Is he paying court to Duzeon Ninianee?” Zhanf asked.
“He would like to be her official suitor, but she has consistently refused him,”
said Hoftstan. “She’s afraid he would use such an alliance as the excuse to annex Vildecaz to Otsinmohr, and bring it into the Porzalk Empire. He’s Riast’s cousin, and expanding the Empire would add to his consequence.”
“Do you think she would accept him if his motives were removed?” Zhanf looked worried as he put the question to Hoftstan.
“Zlatz, no,” said Hoftstan, making no apology for his language. “He is not to her liking at all. You’ve seen the man, haven’t you? Not a very prepossessing specimen. He is contemptuous of her skill in communicating with animals. What he wants is a secure dynasty with no trouble on the borders.” Hoftstan coughed diplomatically. “My second son?”
“That would be the one who has a talent for gambling? Rimdoch?”
“That would be he,” said Hoftstan. “He says that even the most hardened gamblers give poor odds on Maeshar’s chances with Ninianee. He’s not much-liked in Vildecaz. And Kazhtal, my oldest, has heard that Maeshar wouldn’t give up his two mistresses for one wife.”
“When did he hear that?”
Hoftstan swallowed hard, not liking to expose any of his family to possible repercussions from their acts. “He was down in Valdihovee, supervising the off-loading of supplies from the Drowned World, and he heard Maeshar’s men talking – they were there on a similar errand.”
“How long ago was that?” Zhanf gave his full attention to Hoftstan.
“Four, five days ago. He mentioned it to me four days ago.” Hoftstan sighed. “Not that I would support Ninianee accepting Maeshar for any reason as her Official Suitor, but I do worry for her. In this remote place she’s not likely to find any more worthy of her. She’ll be twenty-four soon – on the next First Day – old enough to know what will please her.”
Zhanf nodded. “And from what you tell me, Maeshar would not.”
“No. Most definitely not.” He made a gesture of helplessness. “But who else is there?”
“Doms Guyon,” said Zhanf, a bit speculatively.
“Doms Guyon?” Hoftstan repeated incredulously. “She has given him no encouragement – quite the opposite.”
“That is why he’s encouraged,” said Zhanf with a slight, knowing smile. “It’s why he followed her.”
Hoftstan shook his head.
“I’ll take your word for it; you’re the magician. But I don’t see it myself.”
“He’s planning to protect her,” said Zhanf.
At this, Hoftstan laughed. “Oh, she’ll thank him for that,” he said with affectionate sarcasm.
“Actually, she may,” said Zhanf. He wagged an admonitory finger at Hoftstan. “You may not see it, but I don’t think she would resist him so adamantly if she weren’t attracted to him.”
Hoftstan kept his thoughts to himself, but he managed a nod of sorts. “I hope he knows what he’s getting into.”
“He thinks he does.” Zhanf folded his arms across his chest. “In the meantime what arrangements shall we make for the Frozen Moon Festival?”
“Ver Mindicaz and Dochanee Rocazin will know what to do,” said Hoftstan. “Duz Nimuar always left the realities up to them.” The Cook-Major and the Housekeeper-General could always be counted upon to manage the grand occasion with the apparent ease of long practice. “I will arrange for invitations to be carried in the next few days, if you believe we should continue the tradition.”
“Oh, by all means. If we fail to have the festival, the rumors about Nimuar will double or triple, and that will mean more problems for the Duzeons when they return, and possibly more pressure for Erianthee at Court.” He sighed. “You and Rocazin will know whom to invite. I won’t bother with the list of guests unless you think I should be aware of some of them.”
“I’ll talk to Housekeeper-General Rocazin later tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has already prepared the list and set the scribes to writing them in formal hand.” Hoftstan chuckled in an effort to lighten the tone of their discussion.
“Will that include Zervethus Gaxamirin?” Zhanf inquired politely.
“I . . . I could see he is included,” said Hoftstan warily.
“With his secretary so much in evidence here, it would probably be wise,” said Zhanf. “Pareo will be here, and it would seem inappropriate if Gaxamirin were not included.”
“In his note to the Duzeons, said that he would arrive after the Reaper’s Moon, and that is upon us. Pareo must have informed him of what transpires here. He makes use of the spell-room with great regularity.” His disapproval was apparent.
The Vildecaz Talents: The complete set of Vildecaz Stories including Nimuar's Loss, The Deceptive Oracle and Agnith's Promise Page 33