by Jean Lorrah
Only as the last man died could Torio stop Reading, cutting off the pain but leaving him blind, closed in on himself, sweating and shaking-and then vomiting as the stench of burnt flesh assaulted him anew.
Finally, he had to Read again. Still trembling, he Read slowly outward, finding only corpses.
They were all dead. There was no more pain.
Wulfston, as open to being Read as a nonAdept, was fighting not to pass out.
But he was awake, and that meant-
“How much strength would it have taken to stop their hearts?” Torio demanded. “Why did you let them die so horribly?”
Wulfston turned weary eyes to Torio. “Are there any more?”
Torio Read. No new attackers lurked anywhere around, nor was anyone fleeing. All were dead-even the ones down by the house, he Read sickly. Wulfston hadn’t chanced just putting them to sleep, lest they waken after he had exhausted his powers. “No. You killed them all,” he said flatly.
“Are you hurt?” asked the Lord Adept.
“No, but-”
“But you might have required healing,” explained Wulfston.
Torio knew, intellectually, why the Adept was trained to save the last of his strength in a situation such as they had just gone through-a last-resort means of escape or healing.
But his heart still protested the agony Wulfston had allowed.
“Torio, can you get me to the stonecutter’s cottage?” Wulfston asked.
“Yes, if you can walk. Lean on me.”
The needs of a Lord Adept who had expended his powers for them was something the stonecutter’s family understood-and Torio was glad to see that it was no hardship for them to meet even the appetite of a Lord Adept. They were welcomed joyfully into the house, where the main room served as kitchen, dining hall, and family gathering place. There was meat aplenty, just what an Adept required to restore energy quickly after using his powers.
At the gratitude of the innocent people the bandits had used so cruelly, Torio accepted that they had done what they had to-Reader and Adept working together, to protect those without their powers.
Feeling better by the moment, he ate tasty brown bread with butter, the ubiquitous cooked vegetables, fresh berries, and a rich tart served with cream-a meal designed to give strength to men who worked the quarry.
He had to explain that Readers did not eat meat, and discovered that everyone had thought him an apprentice Adept, since Readers were still scarce in this part of the savage lands.
Bevan’s family put Wulfston to bed in the loft where the married couples slept, and were astonished to find that Torio was wide awake-and full of questions about where their attackers had come from. If only they had left one of them alive!
“I dinna understand,” said Morgone, the old stonecutter who headed the family. “We’ve had naught o’
trouble wi’ bandits. People herebouts, they like what Lord Wulfston’s done. We got homes, food-who needs turn bandit?”
“I don’t know,” Torio told him, “but we’re going to find out.”
Although he had explained that Reading took no physical energy, Torio did accept a bed and went up to it early, for he had messages to deliver.
To cover the distances he must now Read, Torio had to leave his body. Had his training at the Academy proceeded normally, at his age he would be undertaking such an exercise occasionally, under the guidance of a teacher. The events of the past two years, however, had required him to Read over distances so often that leaving his body had become commonplace.
He smoothed the bed and lay down carefully, positioned so that his circulation could not be cut off while his body was unoccupied. Then he allowed his “self to drift upward.
Immediately, his Reading took on a clarity possible only when the flesh was left behind. No longer did he have to visualize the world deliberately; it was all there, without effort and without restriction.
He Read outward from the stonecutter’s cottage, searching for signs of further danger. A few miles down the road there was an inn, where local farmers sometimes stopped for a cup of ale at this time of day.
That’s all they were-farmers, the innkeeper, and his wife and three daughters, one of them flirting with a local farm lad.
But there were no strangers, no travelers, and no one with a worry in his head except the boy wondering if the girl he favored cared for him, or whether she acted this way with other customers.
Ignoring the inn, Torio scanned the fields, empty or emptying. Nothing more sinister there than rabbits and field mice. Nor did the woodlands harbor people, except for a woodcutter who lived there and a patrol of Wulfston’s foresters out to see that no one took deer out of season.
Then where had their attackers come from?
As Morgone said, there was no widespread dissatisfaction among Wulfston’s people. Only the bandits who preyed on travelers were unhappy that the new Lord of the Land did not take the attitude of Drakonius, who had ignored them as long as they did not interfere with his plans for conquest.
Wulfston’s first impulse had been to give the bandits fair warning to mend their ways-and then wipe out the ones who refused to turn to farming, hunting, woodcutting, or other honest occupation. However, too many outlaws were distrustful, having suffered many years of Drakonius’ unpredictability. Furthermore, they considered this new lord, with his preference for alliance over conquest, to be dangerously weak-easy prey for the next Drakonius.
Over the nearly two years of Wulfston’s reign, though, he had made the main roads safe. Many outlaws had decided that the risks of being caught now that there were Readers in the land outweighed the risks of pledging loyalty to the new lord. The rest moved northward, out of the area ruled by the alliance of Adepts and Readers who called their union the Savage Empire.
It was not Torio who had persuaded Wulfston not to track down all the outlaws and summarily execute them. It was Jareth, his chief adviser from among his newly inherited people, who had pointed out that under Drakonius’ rule many, many people had been so plundered as to be left with little choice except to prey on others to survive. While the majority had returned gratefully to honest work at Wulfston’s invitation, there were enough suspicious ones that nearly everyone had kin or friend still outlaw.
Wholesale slaughter of the hill bandits might well have turned hesitantly loyal followers against Wulfston once again.
Torio had agreed with Jareth, although for a Reader’s reasons: enduring the pain and death of other people turned any Reader against violence as a solution to violence.
After today’s experience, though, he wondered if he could have been wrong. Might there have been less suffering in the long run had the bandits been permanently eliminated? They had obviously taken Wulfston’s decision as a sign of weakness. How many other bands of minor Adepts were there? What would they learn from what had happened today?
At least they would be easier to find in the future. This trip to Zendi was to meet with some of the Readers who walked the Path of the Dark Moon-those who had not the strength or skill to attain the rank of Magister or Master, but whose numbers had formerly made them the eyes and ears of an empire.
Wulfston intended to offer them his protection and a comfortable living in exchange for their forming such a network in his land.
Today, though, there was only Torio. Having determined that there were no other bandits hiding within a day’s ride in Wulfston’s lands, he Read along the little-used trail to the north, out beyond the border.
There, in the rough terrain where the chain of hills became the foothills of mighty mountains, Torio found a camp. There must have been two hundred people, men, women, and children living in makeshift shelters, tents, covered wagons, and pine-branch lean-tos. It was a sort of semipermanent community which could easily pack up and move-as they seemed to be preparing to do soon.
The camp buzzed with excitement and expectation. Torio had no trouble Reading what was on every mind: within the next few days their leade
rs would return to tell them they had killed the upstart Wulfston, and they would move in and take over his lands, turning them into an outlaw kingdom where they could live at ease, plundering the foolish ones who still toiled in the fields.
No one here knew that their leaders, those with some Adept powers, lay dead in the quarry far inside Wulfston’s lands. Not one had escaped to tell the tale.
Torio knew that, leader less, they would probably break up again into small outlaw bands… until they could coerce some other minor Adepts to try once more to unite against one lone Lord Adept. At least that was what he told Lenardo when he contacted him in Zendi a few minutes later.
He let Lenardo Read the day’s experience directly from his mind, and then waited for his mentor’s comments.
“You’ve done very well, Torio,” Lenardo told him. “Not long ago you would have come to me immediately, instead of searching for the outlaw camp with your own powers.”
“But what should we do about them?” Torio asked.
Lenardo had left his wife and daughter to entertain Lilith and her son Ivorn, who had just arrived. Now he was in his study, at the table which he and Aradia used for a desk. He selected a map. “The camp is not in our territory. I do not know whether one of the Lords Adept to the north of us considers that area his, or whether everyone leaves that terrain to bandits and wanderers. I don’t think that camp will break up for a few days-they have no way of knowing what happened to their attack force until they send someone to investigate. You found no sign of Readers among them? Somehow they found out that Wulfston would be traveling without a retinue.”
“No Readers,” Torio told him with total certainly. “Spies in Zendi would have heard we were expected, and then it would have been easy enough for just one person to watch Wulfston’s castle to see whether people gathered to form a retinue. And he’s known for avoiding unnecessary ceremony* Besides, I should think that since it’s an alliance of Readers with Adepts that has made their life difficult as bandits, they’d be even more distrustful of Readers than most savages.”
Lenardo smiled. “Who are the savages, Torio? Anybody who isn’t us?” But he obviously didn’t expect an answer. “Get some rest. I’ll Read the outlaw camp in the morning, to make sure they’re not planning to move before we can decide what to do about them.”
“All right, as soon as I’ve reported to Rolf what happened today-Wulfston’s household must think we’re with you by now, unless the watchers have reported otherwise. And if they have, they’ll be worried about us.”
“Good thinking-always be considerate of those who depend on you.”
So Torio withdrew-and then sought the opposite direction, back to the castle where he and Wulfston had begun their journey. It was still early evening; Rolf was just finishing a consulation with local farmers concerning the amount of rain needed in the next week.
Rolf, like Torio, had been born blind, but with a single Adept power: control of weather. Then last summer, with the help of Torio and Melissa, he had learned to Read. Now, although he would never have Torio’s abilities, he no longer used a stick to find his way around, nor required anyone to guide him.
Even with only limited Reading power, he was happy with his newfound independence.
At the moment, he was the only Reader at Wulfston’s castle. He could never have Read to the stonecutter’s cottage where Torio was, but a stronger Reader could always contact a weaker one. When Torio touched Rolfs mind, the other boy quickly responded, “Have you reached Zendi already?”
“No, but both Wulfston and I are unhurt.”
Only after that reassurance did he explain what had happened.
“How could anyone want to attack you and Lord Wulfston?” Rolf asked in genuine bewilderment.
“Lord Torio, you and Wulfston must not travel without a retinue again.”
“We’ll worry about that some other time. What you must do now is watch for spies around the castle.
Somebody knew when Wulfston would be traveling, and that he and I would be alone. That person probably left the area when we did-but be alert for other strangers, Rolf. If one band of malcontents could hatch such a plot, it’s always possible there could be others.”
“Yes, my lord,” Rolf told him, and Torio knew security would be redoubled. So when he broke contact and returned to his body, he was able to relax in the knowledge that he had done everything he had to, and fall asleep-only to toss and turn with nightmares that disappeared when he woke, shaking, with a haunting sense of guilt.
When Wulfston and Torio reached Zendi the next day, everyone in their circle already knew what had happened, and agreed that something had to be done about the outlaw band. “If nothing else,” said Aradia, “we must make an example of them, so that no one else decides we are easy prey.”
She hugged her brother, a striking visual contrast between the small, pale woman with hair so light a blond it looked white in some lights, and the tall black man who called her sister. Wulfston at least looked strong. Aradia’s apparent frailty belied the incredible Adept powers at her command, for she was in the prime of her powers and still growing-as was Lenardo.
Wulfston had been adopted by Aradia’s father when his Adept powers manifested in early childhood.
The two children had somehow grown up best of friends, closer than many siblings by blood. There were still times when Wulfston knew better than Lenardo how to cope with Aradia’s willfulness.
The group of people who together ruled the Savage Empire had grown to include Lenardo, Aradia, Wulfston, Torio, Melissa, Lilith, Ivorn, and Master Clement, who had been teacher to both Lenardo and Torio. Melissa was not there when they arrived; she was at the hospital set up here in Zendi so that the most seriously ill or injured need not be taken all the way to Gaeta for expert care. A Reader grown up in an Academy, like Torio, she had already been a skilled healer when she learned to use Adept powers, and now her ability to cure was almost miraculous.
Torio went to his room and unpacked clean clothes, eager for the luxury of a genuine bath. At Wulfston’s castle he could have a shower, the water warmed by the sun on the rooftop cistern, or in winter a hot bath with the water hauled by servants to his room. But Zendi, which had once been an Aventine city, had real plumbing-and it was put to full use in the luxurious bathhouse.
Decius, a young Reader who had come here with Master Clement, joined him, walking easily on his wooden leg. “Zanos says the Master Sorcerers of Madura might be able to grow me a new leg,” he announced as he removed his peg before sliding into the water.
“What?” Torio asked in confusion. He recalled Zanos, the huge red-haired gladiator who had turned out to have minor Adept powers. He had seduced a female Reader-Torio couldn’t remember her name.
The two had escaped the Aventine Empire in the chaos of the short war last summer, and ingratiated themselves with Lilith by keeping another band of outlaws from taking over her castle and stealing her treasures while she was away.
“He’s been asking everybody about Madura,” Decius explained in typical adolescent carelessness for logical connections. “That’s where he was born, and kidnapped and brought to Tiberium to be a gladiator. I mean, he was captured as a little boy, and then when he grew up-”
“I understand, Decius,” said Torio, luxuriating in water deep enough to swim in. “What’s this about Master Sorcerers?”
“I guess that’s what they call Adepts there-but they’re Readers, too, and they can do lots more than our Adepts. At least, that’s what the legends say. Some sailors said-”
“Sailors’ tales, Decius? Aren’t you a good enough Reader to tell they make most of their adventures up?”
“Well, other people say it, too. They say they can make cut-off limbs grow back-they could probably fix your eyes, too.”
“I get along just fine without them,” Torio reminded him.
“Well… they say they have the power to fly. And do real magic, like turning men into monkeys.
And-the
y even say they can bring the dead back to life!”
Torio laughed, and lunged for Decius, ducking him. The younger boy retaliated, pulling Torio under, then waiting to splash water in his face when he emerged snorting.
But Torio was bigger and stronger, and the better Reader. Decius could not shield his thoughts as well, so Torio knew which move he would make next, and captured the wriggling boy to duck him again.
When Decius shot out of the depths, blowing water out of his mouth, Torio caught him and pinned him against the pool wall for a moment. “Decius, stories like that are fun to tell around the fire in the evening, but you know they are misunderstandings, if they’re not totally imaginary. Did you counter the sailors by telling them you have a friend who was raised from the dead?”
“Well, uh-” Torio Read that the boy had had to work very hard not to yield to that temptation.
“You see? You know I wasn’t dead-just some nonReaders thought I was, so when I turned up alive they thought the savage healers had brought me back. That’s how accurate you can expect those stories the sailors told you to be. Flying, indeed!”
“Why not, if the Adept is powerful enough?” Decius demanded stubbornly.
“How long can any Adept work directly against nature? Or did your sailors claim that these sorcerers with their powers to regrow limbs and eyes used them to grow wings for themselves?”
“No-don’t be silly!” Decius protested, hurt by Torio’s mocking tone. At Fifteen, he was still fighting to be taken seriously.
“Hey-I’m sorry,” said Torio. “Decius, it’s just that you don’t understand the limitations of Adept powers yet. Talk to Master Lenardo and Master Clement about Reading for some of the Lords Adept. You’re good enough to do most of what they require, and it will give you a better idea of just how limited an Adept’s powers are when you see someone like Wulfston or Aradia collapse after an Adept trick that uses up all their reserves. If you knew how much energy it took to lift something against gravity even for just a moment, you’d realize why flying is impossible.”