The Vildecaz Talents: The complete set of Vildecaz Stories including Nimuar's Loss, The Deceptive Oracle and Agnith's Promise

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  “I know you’re aware that I wasn’t entirely candid while we were with Riast. I know you sensed it, and you said nothing, for which I thank you. When I explain, you’ll know why I had to withhold certain matters from Riast.” He seemed unable to go on. “I found out something about the rebellion almost a month ago.” Again he fell silent. “I found out about it from Bozidar.”

  “Riast’s son?” Erianthee had begun to feel comfortable again, easing back in the sling-chair and cushions, but this brought her full upright aghast. “Is he involved in it? Are you sure?”

  “Not as sure as I’d like to be,” he admitted.

  “Is there good reason to think he might be?”

  “Yes,” said Kloveon, then continued as if under compulsion to talk. “He came to Fauthsku, to Dyreijalu where I was meeting with the local town council. He claimed his mission was unofficial, but I doubted it. Bozidar told me he had been to Niegee, Udugan, and Lenj, covering most of the south-eastern quadrant of the Empire. He claimed to be making an inspection of the provinces, but he also wished to know if I had any reason to be discontented with the Empire, and Riast.”

  “Wouldn’t a good administrator do that? My father, for all his incapacities, has done two annual progresses throughout Vildecaz to address problems and complaints. I can’t recall a year when he didn’t make such progresses.” Erianthee felt a rush of foreboding.

  “That’s not Bozidar’s nature, tending to merchants and farmers. I thought at first he was testing me, trying to determine how loyal I was to Porzalk, but then I began to wonder if he meant something else.” He rested his elbows on his knees and joined his hands between them. “I decided to send one of my most reliable couriers to find out with whom Bozidar was meeting. Morcoz Havelon, the courier I had dispatched, had a talent for observing and . . . well, spying. I had two reports from him, both seeming to implicate Bozidar in the conspiracy. One of the names Havelon gave me before he died was Bozidar.”

  “Bontaj,” said Erianthee quietly. “And you didn’t tell Riast?”

  “I’m trying to make up my mind if I should tell Riast about this. Bozidar is his heir. Their House has ruled the Porzalk Empire for ten generations. If I am mistaken in my assessment of Bozidar’s role in this, I will bring misfortune on Fauthsku and disgrace upon my House. I was hoping you would advise me, Erianthee.” He looked toward her for the first time. “I don’t know what I should do. If Bozidar is indeed betraying Porzalk and his father, then I must inform the Emperor, but if Bozidar is being made to look like one of the treasonists when he is not, then I would be to blame for his compromise.”

  “Your courier – Havelon?” She saw him nod. “Would he have any reason to help such a conspiracy?”

  “He never gave any indication of being such,” said Kloveon. “And he died for doing my bidding. He brought back his information the day before I left – that much of what I told Riast is accurate. He had been tortured and suffered horribly – he had been beaten with mallets and magic, and he was more diejinee than man, and he wasn’t diejinee for very long.”

  “Did you believe him? Did you accept his report?” Erianthee asked.

  “Enough to come here. What troubles me the most is that I don’t know what form their attack will take. Havelon said that it he thought it would be soon. If something happens in the next few days, Riast may be willing to listen to what I was told about Bozidar, but if nothing happens, then I fear it will be my loyalty that will be questioned.” He rubbed along his jaw, and took a deep, unsteady breath. “I don’t want to accuse Bozidar – I have only the report of a dying man who was delirious some of the time, and it may be that his information was incorrect or distorted, although he was convinced that his news was unerring.”

  “Are you confident that Havelon was committed to you and Fauthsku? You say you found him reliable, but are you sure he wasn’t – Was he trustworthy or subtle? Could he have been working with the traitors, or could he have wanted to prove his heroism by making it appear there was a conspiracy, which he would reveal as a way to gain a glowing reputation? Would he want you to provide misinformation so that the traitors could work unimpeded because the notion of a threat to the Empire had been shown to be unfounded? That would make you seem a fool and irresponsible, as well as provide the conspirators with the appearance of triviality, which only serves their purposes.” Although these notions were not persuasive to Erianthee, she could see that they had already occurred to Kloveon.

  “Anything is possible. I thought Havelon had fealty to Fauthsku, but he may not have had. I thought Bozidar was trying to determine my fealty to the Porzalk Empire, but that turned out not to be the case. I never expected to be caught between so many forces as I am now, and I can’t see my way.” Kloveon coughed nervously. “I want to protect Fauthsku and the Empire, but I could fail to do both, and all because I misunderstood who the enemies were.”

  “Or if there are enemies,” Erianthee ventured.

  “That as well. I’d have fewer suspicions had Havelon not died. The fact that he was killed has driven me to act. And I have also wondered if there may be provinces that are determined to undermine Fauthsku for reasons of their own. We have had trouble with Udugan over the last few months, for reasons that are not entirely clear, but I wouldn’t have thought they would do anything so malicious as this level of deception reveals, if that malice and deception really exist.” He rose from the chair and began to pace. “If I err, in any fashion that I might err, I will be contemptible to all Theninzalk. Yet I don’t know what an error might be.”

  Erianthee watched him, seeing his distress as well as his perplexity. She tried to think of something to say that would comfort him without making light of his circumstances. “There’s nothing you can do at the moment, is there?”

  “What can I do?” He went to the largest window and stared out at the flank of Tiumboj Castle. “I’ve done what I thought I must do – I have warned Riast of what I have learned – as much as I can reveal without hazard to Fauthsku, but I don’t know if I’ve been useful or nothing more than an alarmist. If I could be more sure of what I’ve been told, then I wouldn’t be so . . . so restless. I would know I had done what was needed and useful. But I’m not sure it is.”

  “But you do think there is some kind of scheme afoot, and it is directed at the Porzalk Empire,” she said.

  “Yes, I think it, but I’m not wholly persuaded.” He put his hand on the windowsill, his face turned away from her. “I had doubts from the first, and now that I have made my report to the Emperor, those doubts have redoubled.” Very softly, he asked, “Erianthee, what am I to do?”

  She left her sling-chair and went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I don’t know,” she confessed.

  He moved out of her embrace but only to take her away from the window. “Privacy spell or not, I don’t want you to be seen with me, not this way.” He led her to the fireplace and took her in his arms, his hands spread across her back. “You have faith in me, Erianthee, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said, “I believe you,” and hoped it was true.

  7. Adversities

  Hoftstan Ruch hurried up to Duz Nimuar’s library, where he hoped to find Poyneilum Zhanf. He carried a large sack which he held away from his body as if unwilling to have any contact with what it contained. His face was pale, his breath came hard and fast, and his eyes showed more white than usual. As he reached the library, he tapped lightly on the door, hoping that Zhanf was inside. He rapped on the door and saw it open.

  Neilach Drux, Duz Nimuar’s valet, respected Hoftstan even as he eyed the bag he carried with dubiety. “Come in, Hoftstan Ruch,” he said. “Magsto Zhanf is at the rear of the room, among the charts the Duz compiled.”

  Ordinarily this would have piqued Hoftstan’s curiosity, but his mission was too urgent to be distracted now. “I must speak to him. At once. You needn’t announce me. I’ll – ”

  “It is no imposition.” Drux respected Hoftstan once again, and motio
ned to him. “Follow me.” He set off through the jumble of bookcases, map-cases, display cases, occasional tables and chairs that were placed haphazardly in the L-shaped room. “He’s at the table under the window.”

  And so he was. Zhanf was sitting on a stool facing a large, angled table on which slanting surface he had unrolled a chart so long that it fell over two sides of the table. He was frowning, but whether because of what he was seeing in the chart or the glare from the window was impossible to determine. He sat up and made a semi-respect from his stool as he heard Hoftstan approaching. “So, Hoftstan Ruch, from the look of you, something is the matter – what troubles you?”

  Hoftstan returned the respect awkwardly, for the sack he carried was heavy and hard to balance. “You should look at this, Magsto,” he said.

  “What is it?” Zhanf asked as he reached for the sack.

  “A spell-mummy, I think,” said Hoftstan, making a protective gesture. “It is some kind of dessicated, shrouded corpse. It was in a flimsy casket. Hardly weighs more than a load of twigs.”

  “Really?” Zhanf handled the sack gingerly. “What makes you think it is a spell-mummy?”

  “I found it under a pile of loose stones where the wall has been repaired. I wanted to see how well the repairs are holding. I saw a crack in the mortar and that inclined me to inspect the area more closely, in case there should be more cracks or other damage. I had no idea that I would find anything like this.” He made a sign to ward off misfortune. “By the way, where’s that man of yours – Van?”

  “I sent him to Valdihovee on an errand. He’ll be back before nightfall.” Zhanf peered at the sack. “Let me have a closer look.”

  Obediently Hoftstan brought the sack closer to the stool on which Zhanf was perched. “It’s pretty foul.”

  “So it is. That’s troubling,” said Zhanf as he opened the top of the sack, sniffed, and added, “This needs nullification.” With that, he dropped a little salt from a dark-blue crystal vial he had in his sleeve onto whatever was inside. A puff of sulphurous smoke came out, yellow and stinking. “Yes, probably a spell-mummy. They use honey and sulphur to preserve them. Sublimating salts will cancel whatever magic the spell-mummy carries.”

  “Aren’t such salts dangerous?” Hoftstan looked askance at Zhanf.

  “They can be, if one isn’t trained to handle them properly. Fortunately, I’ve dealt with a number of spell-mummies before now, and assuming this is one, I will have no trouble stopping its spells.” Zhanf secured the neck of the sack again, then called out to Drux, “Will you be good enough to go and fetch an old sheet? One that no one will use again, but as clean as possible. I want to have a closer look at this spell-mummy and I don’t want to turn it out on the floor. That could be dangerous, if the secondary spell remains strong.”

  From the other end of the library, Drux called back, “At once, Magsto. I shouldn’t be long.”

  As the door closed, Zhanf turned to Hoftstan. “Now tell me all about how you came to discover this. Be careful in your account. Leave nothing out. If I have a questions, I’ll stop you.”

  Hoftstan was startled by Zhanf’s abrupt order, but put his mind to answering. “I told you how I came to be out by the repairs on the wall? that I wanted to see if they were holding.”

  “Yes. Why did you decide to go there?”

  “When Senijer ae-Miratdien came off his duty shortly after dawn, he told me one of his Night Guards had tripped while on his rounds at that end of the wall. He claimed there was a break in the repairs. I thought I had better take a look, in case there had been more trouble with the wall.”

  Zhanf pursed his lips. “I thought the wall was sound again.”

  “It seemed to be. There was no sign of cracking last week.”

  “Where did you find this, exactly?” Zhanf put the vial of salt back into his capacious sleeve.

  “At the edge of the repaired section of the wall. There was a small heap of rubble, left over from the previous failures of the wall, and some more recent stones that the masons rejected in the rebuilding. You know how such detritus accumulates around building sites. Most of the clutter was away from the wall, but this one was stacked up against it. And the pile looked . . . different than the others – “

  ”Why? What made you think it was different?’

  “Other than its location – right next to the wall – I don’t precisely know. The heap of stones and litter had a more – I suppose you could say – disordered appearance than the rest of the oddments, although . . . I don’t know how much the rubble was disturbed, or what made me aware of its irregularity. Such piles as that one are easy to ignore, so I can’t determine if the spell-mummy was under the stones all along, from the first time the wall collapsed, or was put there since the repairs were made. Either possibility is worrisome.” He bit his lower lip, then made himself go on. “I used a lever to move some of the rubble and when I had cleared most of it away, I dug down with a spade, to see if anything was there to account for the heap. That’s when I realized that this . . . body . . . was laid against the wall, so I dug farther, to get the spell-mummy out of the ground. The casket called apart then.” Hoftstan paused. “I thought I would authorize the Castle masons to inspect the wall, and then send Burinar down to Valdihovee to ask Master Bridgebuilder Macklei to come and explain why the wall is failing. I didn’t see any signs of chisels or mallets, or obvious, deliberate damage.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t, not with this at the base of the wall. Whenever the wall is repaired, this spell-mummy will bring it down again, so long as it is in place and undetected.” Zhanf pulled at his lower lip. “Which means that someone is renewing the spell-mummy’s power fairly frequently, or the spell would have wound down by now, even a replicating spell.”

  Hoftstan scowled. “You’re right. There must be someone – “

  ”Yes, but there’s no telling if the accomplice is in the Castle, or only near-by. There is a great deal of contact between the Castle and Valdihovee. Someone bringing goods up from the harbor regularly could re-energize the spell-mummy.” Zhanf mulled all this over in silence.

  “It seems more likely that the one powering the spell-mummy must be inside the Castle. The spell-mummy must have been well-shielded, and that bespeaks a constant presence, someone who would be able to maintain the spell-mummy’s protection. It also indicates that this was intended as an on-going plan of destruction, or there would be no need to refresh the spell the mummy contains.” He took a deep breath. “There is one other consideration that suggests our enemy is within the Castle walls – if this mummy contains spells, why didn’t the spell-hounds find it? They should have found traces of it, shouldn’t they?” Hoftstan asked, his eyes flicking nervously. “Unless the spell-mummy has some kind of powerful block.”

  “Now that is a question,” said Zhanf. “Yes, indeed. They should have found it, but since they didn’t, we must suppose there is more going on than a simple intention to cause damage. Or,” he added, “it could mean that whoever put the spell-mummy at the base of the wall has an ally in the Castle, who would keep the spell-hounds from flushing the spell-mummy, someone who could disguise the spell-mummy for an old repair spell. We could be dealing with more than one culprit here.”

  After a short, potent silence, Hoftstan said, “That had occurred to me, as well, though I hope we are being overly cautious. I would like to think that it’s merely my nerves speaking, not a true cause for worry.”

  “But you are worried,” Zhanf observed.

  “I am,” Hoftstan admitted.

  “Is it more than just the spell-mummy?”

  “In a way. I have been wondering as I brought this to you, if there might be more of them, still undiscovered. I could have the masons of the household look for more of them, if you think it would be useful.” He looked at Zhanf, making no attempt to conceal his anxiety.

  “Are you ready to search for more of them? – assuming you think there may be more.”

  Hoftstan shook his head
. “Not until I know what we’re dealing with, which is why I brought this to you. But I reckon there may be another about.”

  “A well-considered answer. I agree.”

  “I fear that someone in this household had some knowledge of this spell-mummy and its purpose.” He sounded ashamed as he spoke. “I don’t want to think ill of anyone in the Castle, but I believe I must, until this is resolved.”

  “A difficult position to be in,” Zhanf observed.

  “It is.” He glared at the sack, accusing it with his eyes.

  “Whom do you suspect?” Zhanf asked suddenly. “Don’t think, just tell me what man comes first to mind.”

  “I can’t think, though I’ve tried.” Hoftstan rubbed his face with his big hands. “This is much too sudden. Much as I would like to suspect Rai Pareo, he didn’t arrive until long after the wall broke.”

  “What of Yulko Bihn?” Zhanf suggested. “He came shortly after the wall failed the first time, and he may have taken advantage of the problem. But I agree that it is difficult to accuse him of putting the mummy in place. That had to be done by others. Do you think it possible that Pareo is in league with the culprits?”

  Before Hoftstan could answer, Drux returned with a threadbare and stained sheet. “Merinex has declared it free of spells.”

  Zhanf’s frown came and went so quickly that it was difficult to know if it had actually happened. “Did you tell him of its purpose?”

  “Only that it was wanted for an examination, but of what, I couldn’t say. He was very curious, and attempted to find out everything I knew. I thought it was appropriate not to impart too much information to him,” he replied with formidable dignity.

  “Was he annoyed when you wouldn’t tell him all he wanted to know?” asked Zhanf.

  “Certainly he was. He tried to coax information from me, expressing concern about the safety of the Castle. But as I professed ignorance of what you planned to do, there was little he could find out from me.” For an instant, mischief winked in his eyes. “Ignorance can be a useful tactic in such situations.” Then his amusement vanished. “There is no reason to bring him into this, and I am sure he would insist on being included in your inquiries.”