He hadn’t expected her to agree. “Thank you.” Elbows to knees, he bent his head and rubbed it hard. He didn’t know if it helped, but it felt as if it should. The practice ring had left him too lightheaded to deal with a circular conversation.
The woman said nothing more, and Teth brought another cup of water, then pulled on Sherakai’s arm to get him upright and moving. He left her staring vacantly at the activity on the sand.
Chapter 70
Cleaned and perfumed after his workout, Sherakai sat across the table from Bairith. The jansu had chosen to dine in the sunroom. The banks of leaded glass windows set in the southern wall let in wonderful light—and cold. A fireplace on the inner wall made the temperature bearable, if not comfortable. A thick rug of exotic design had been brought in to warm their feet. Beautifully crafted ceramic lamps hung by chains from the ceiling, unlit now but promising a warm glow when darkness fell.
Sherakai enjoyed plain, wholesome food suitable for a boy in training while the jansu nibbled on far more delicate things. Picking up his cup to wash down a mouthful, the ivory liquid inside made him pause. “What is this?”
“Milk. Tylond and Iniki are of the opinion it will be of some benefit to you during your training. They advise more meat, too.”
He eyed his plate, comparing the contents to Bairith’s. Did he dare voice his opinion? Real food instead of the usual rich delicacies Bairith preferred? He sniffed the contents of the cup, then took a big swallow.
“Do you like it?”
He shrugged and dug into his meal. Bairith watched as if he might say something. Challenge him, perhaps. The caged creature with the big eyes and untidy topknot watched him, too. He preferred the beast’s study. Bairith’s examinations made him feel awkward, as if he’d grown an extra set of ears.
He swallowed his food. “How does the link work when you—we—want to find each other?”
“That is a good question. We must focus on it, of course, and then it is usually a matter of honing an awareness of what the other person is doing.”
“Like seeing or feeling through the other person’s senses?”
“Exactly like that.”
“What if they aren’t doing anything? If they’re just sitting still?”
“That takes a little longer to make out. Are they dozing? Sleeping? Reading?”
“Any of those.”
“Emotion can hint at some of the details. The more practice you have, the better you’ll become.”
Nodding, Sherakai went back to his meal. False emotion, he thought, might very well disguise what a person was doing. He would have to experiment.
They finished the meal in silence, and the servants came to remove the dishes.
“Shall we begin?” the mage asked, sliding his chair back to a more comfortable position.
“Not yet.” He drew a breath, folding his hands on the edge of the table. Refusing to recognize the sudden jitters didn’t make them go away. Tasan had never lost his composure during a discussion—barring the incident at the Starglass—and so he became the model upon which Sherakai anchored his own behavior. Speak firmly, but politely. Don’t be afraid. Don’t lose your temper, no matter the provocation. Sherakai had no doubt at all that Bairith would attempt to provoke him. “We need to come to an agreement.”
Bairith crossed one leg over the other, interest lighting his sea-blue eyes. “What sort of agreement do you have in mind?”
“You have made it clear that I will be staying here, and that you and those you trust most will teach me what I need to know in order for you to achieve your goal. You have made it impossible for me to leave the keep.” He did not believe that. He did believe it would be wretchedly difficult, but if he were clever and patient enough, and perhaps coldblooded enough—he could escape. He counted on Bairith feeling that conviction weighing the words he spoke. “You have taken much from me.”
“And you want to take something in return, I presume?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I want you to give something.”
“What might that be?”
“I want to see and speak to my sister regularly. At least twice a week.” He thought that a modest number. He would have felt better and worried less if he saw her every day. “If she must be confined, then confine her to her rooms with a good bed, decent meals, and warmth.”
Bairith tap-tap-tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. The thing in the cage sidled away as far as it could get and started cooing plaintively.
Sherakai tried to feel for the link and whatever information it might hold. Although he recognized its presence, he couldn’t quite capture it. A twisting, capricious thing, it slithered in and out of his perception like a—No! Don’t think that!
“All that in return for what I already have,” Bairith said, calculating and coldly amused.
“No, there’s one more thing.”
“Oh, please.” One hand made an elegant motion through the air in invitation.
“You are teaching me about my Gift, but I upset you when I tried to practice on Fesh. I would like a companion.”
He lifted a brow. “That request sounds practical. I’ll have one of the servants sent to you.”
“No,” he frowned. “No, sir, I don’t think that will work well. A servant will just bow and nod and do whatever he thinks will best serve him and keep him in your good graces. A soldier, maybe, though I’m not certain that would be much better.”
“A peer, then.”
“Would that be difficult to arrange?” He didn’t need to feign emotion. A companion who could and would talk to him would be a gift. On the other hand, he worried about taking someone from their home and possibly putting him in danger.
“Not at all. Several of the leading families owe me favors.”
Sherakai could only imagine how his captor might have wiggled and worried members of the aristocracy into positions of indebtedness. “An equal would give me more of a challenge,” he murmured, chewing on his lip.
“Yes, and if I do not agree to your other terms?”
Tasan would not shout in frustration, so Sherakai would not either. “Mimeru will probably die, and you will not have my cooperation. Judging from the number of times you’ve asked for it, it must be important to you.”
“How clever of you.” The deadpan delivery mocked him. “And how do you think you might vex me with your lack of cooperation?”
“If I were to tell you my plans they wouldn’t work nearly as well.”
The mage laughed and leaned forward. “I do like you, little dragon. You put on a good show, even though you’re so terrified that your heart is racing and your mouth is dry as dust. The answer is no. You forget that I hold the advantage here. You will see your sister if and when I see fit—and not at all if you refuse to cooperate, or if you cause any trouble at all. Come. Let us turn our attention to your lessons.”
He had no right to use that byname. It belonged to Sherakai’s family. His blood. It was one more thing Bairith stole and it rankled. His hands slipped from the table to clench in his lap while he bit his tongue on a bitter retort. Mimeru would not suffer for his hurt feelings.
The next days followed much the same pattern. One of the creatures would wake Sherakai as the sun peeked over the edge of the mountain while the other set a meal out. They watched him eat, dressed him in the minimal clothing required for the practice ring, and escorted him underground. Iniki drove him hard, pushing him to the very limits of his endurance. He never brought up their earlier conversation about the use of the skills Sherakai acquired. The compliments his teacher gave came few and far between, but he had an uncanny way of delivering them at the moment Sherakai most needed to hear them. Occasionally Iniki gave him some point to ponder.
“You must stop fighting the fight,” he said one day. He bounced his practice sword against one shoulder while Sherakai lay in the sand for the umpteenth time, trying to regain the breath his teacher had knocked out of him. “You know the moves. You know the c
ounter moves. Flow with the motion instead of trying to push against it. Do you dance?”
“Yes,” he wheezed.
Iniki nodded. “Then dance. Breathe quietly and relax your thoughts. Let your body do what you have taught it to do.”
A thousand sprints through the sifting arena sand, a thousand repetitions of one certain step of a form, a thousand times climbing up the rope to the vaulted ceiling suddenly took on a new significance. Stairs, weights, footwork, balancing, jumping rope—every moment of training his body provided him with an answer to the question his opponent posed. He need only learn how to let it happen.
Finished with his physical training for the day, Fesh and Teth helped Sherakai off the sands and waited patiently while he sat on the benches and watched the other fighters until his knees could hold him up again. This and every other day were indistinguishable from one another. Up to his room he’d go, never speaking more than a word or two to anyone beyond Bairith, Iniki, or his guards. If the jansu didn’t forbid contact, Fesh and Teth’s presence made people avoid him. Once in a while, he saw the nameless woman at the arena or at a distance down a corridor. She did not look his way, nor attempt to communicate with him.
The creatures would clean and dress him, make him up, and top him off with a tidy javannu before escorting Sherakai to the mage’s office. The two quiet servant boys had stopped coming. Bairith would greet him with polite words and a delicate, inexorable touch along a link that remained invisible to Sherakai’s eyes no matter how hard he tried to see it. Then the mage would fire questions at him and demand details and reasons until Sherakai’s head ached. He answered everything to the best of his knowledge—he could not help himself, and didn’t try to fight Bairith’s Voice for fear of what he’d do to Mimeru.
They took the evening meals together, and while the questions slowed to allow eating, they did not stop. One day, Sherakai declined the evening’s final glass of wine, protesting that it made him feel sick.
“Nonsense,” Bairith decided, taking a sip of his own, then smiling in pleasure. “You will become used to the stuff in time. I insist.” And with the wicked application of his Voice Sherakai had no choice but to drink.
With Fesh and Teth in the icy gardens, he walked off the nausea and the worst edge of a persistent headache. He railed against his weakness. He rebuilt defensive walls that evaporated at a single word from his captor. And then, tucked into his warm, generous bed, he rocked himself to sleep praying for relief from his nightmares.
It never worked.
Then the whole routine started all over the following day.
The next evening, obliged once again to partake of the saccharine wine, Sherakai only murmured a token protest. He drank it. He hated it. He hated being forced to cooperate over something so trivial as a glass of wine, and understood it as a reminder of his position. He did not have to pretend queasiness, and pressed a fine linen napkin against his mouth. The cloth hid a finger thrust down his throat. It was worth losing his dinner.
The next night, Sherakai’s goblet held only a swallow of the izaku.
Chapter 71
Another day, after what Sherakai had come to call his morning beating, Bairith greeted him with a smile and an embrace. Sherakai barely restrained the urge to shove the mage away, but the jansu ignored whatever emotion galloped through the magical link and drew the youth’s arm through his own.
“I have a gift for you.”
A glance around the office revealed nothing new, except that his guardians had deserted him. A close-faced servant waited at the door instead. “How… thoughtful.”
Bairith laughed. “I took your request for a proper practice partner to heart. You are completely outmatched against me, and I need some way to gauge your progress.”
On reflection, he had probably set himself up for further abuse. This ‘practice partner’ would no doubt be a cozy occupant of Bairith’s pocket. “Does he know what he’s here for?”
“He is here to learn. Bring him in,” Bairith instructed the servant standing silent by the door. “He the younger son of Ohar Arunakun, who happens to owe me several favors. You may have seen the family at the ball.”
The merchant class had its own hierarchy. An ohar was a man—or a woman—clever and rich enough to acquire a title within the ranks. “Is he part of your great plan?”
The jansu was in a fine mood, and offered another chuckle. “Only inasmuch as he helps you progress with your skills.”
“A tool, then. Do you not value lives at all?”
“You requested a tool, I have merely provided. And lives, boy, are the backbone of power, of strength. Ah, here he is now.” With his arm around Sherakai’s shoulders, Bairith turned the youth to face the door.
The servant bowed in a young man in his early twenties. Taller than Sherakai, well built, and extraordinarily handsome, he could practically hear the fluttering hearts of all the young maids laying eyes on him for the first time. Thick waves the color of honey, classic bone structure, piercing eyes, square jaw—He might have been created expressly to make Sherakai feel awkward and average.
“Your lordship,” the young man said with a perfectly modulated voice and a perfectly executed bow.
“Deishi dan Arunakun, I would like you to meet my apprentice, Sherakai.”
The omission of his family name didn’t go unnoticed by either of them. Curiosity lit Deishi’s eyes. Resentment glimmered in Sherakai’s.
“Good day,” he said tersely. He hadn’t set out to be rude, but he didn’t bow, which was definitely discourteous.
“Deishi’s family has traveled the continent,” Bairith said. “He has experiences that will help you understand the culture and politics there.”
“How thoughtful,” Sherakai said again, wondering if his new ‘partner’ was to help him practice magic or learn humiliation.
“Sherakai has a strict schedule. Arms practice and exercises until mid afternoon, general lessons following that. Perhaps you could look in on him on the sands tomorrow and see if you can give any pointers.”
Ah, humiliation it was. He examined his feelings and found a trace of envy standing in the shadow of the giant of suspicion.
“You will take your noon meals together and attend lessons here. Deishi, you will have the mornings to yourself. I suggest horseback riding and I have an extensive library here. Sherakai will show you where it is. Of course you may join him for practice before our lessons if it pleases you.”
The envy doubled. Why did he get to ride horses and read whatever he pleased?
“Thank you, m’lord, you are most generous. I would like the opportunity to keep fit.” Deishi smiled. Perfectly. “Physical activity helps me sleep and think more clearly.”
“A fine philosophy,” Bairith approved, and folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe. “I will have the servants take your things up to Sherakai’s tower room. It has a wonderful view, doesn’t it, my boy?”
He opened his mouth to protest, then abruptly closed it again, refusing to rise to whatever bait the mage dangled. “Yes, it does,” he managed.
“I beg your pardon?” Deishi’s perfect poise melted, leaving him open-mouthed and uncertain. He still looked absurdly attractive.
“The windows look out across the valley. There are several streams flowing down the mountain to a small lake. It is quite pretty. And the rooms are beautifully furnished as well,” Sherakai added, though it wasn’t really kind to mock the young man. Deishi didn’t yet understand the rules. “It will be good to have some company,” he amended.
“I’m sure the two of you will get along together and learn much from one another.”
Deishi, curse him, bowed again. “Yes, my lord.” A perfect response, of course.
“I shall leave the two of you to get acquainted. We will all dine together tonight, Sherakai.”
“Yes, sir.” He did not take his eyes off Deishi.
The newcomer waited until the door closed, then let out a long breath. “I feel as if
I’m intruding.”
“Not at all.” Until he knew where Deishi stood, he couldn’t risk offending him. “I am sure the jansu knows what he is doing. Would you like me to show you upstairs?”
“Please.”
“I must warn you that I have a pair of guards that rarely leave my side. They are… unusual.”
“I had to leave my guards at the gates. How did you manage to bring yours?”
“I didn’t. They were given to me when I arrived.”
“Why?”
“To keep me safe.”
“From what? Is it dangerous here?” Deishi asked, laughing a little in disbelief.
“More for some than others. Fesh and Teth will leave you alone as long as you don’t try to hurt me.”
He laughed outright at that. “I don’t even know you, why would I hurt you?”
Sherakai conjured up a smile of his own. “No reason, I hope.”
As he’d expected, the two beasts waited outside the office door. “Fesh, Teth, this is Deishi. Try not to damage him. He’ll be sharing our rooms.” He brushed past them. They pushed forward to sniff at the stranger, and Deishi nearly fell backwards into the room.
Chapter 72
“By all the stars in the skies! What are they?”
Sherakai paused, a thread of magic reaching out toward the young lord. Emotions would provide an honest gauge of his character. “Some of the jansu’s experiments.”
Terror and revulsion met him, but the young man did his best to mask them, offering nothing more than a pale face and outward caution. “What do you mean, experiments?”
He quirked his head. “You do know that he is a mage, don’t you?”
“An earth mage, yes. How could he do something like—like this?” A little of the fear crept out in a stutter.
“I don’t really know. That subject hasn’t been part of my studies.”
Deishi edged past the two to join Sherakai. “Are there others like them?”
“I imagine so. I’ve only seen one, but it’s in a cage.” He led the way through the corridors. Fesh and Teth brought up the rear, chittering quietly to each other. “It’s small. I’m sure you’ll meet it. May I ask what you’ll be studying?”
Blood and Shadow (The Mage's Gift Book 1) Page 40