by Sharon Green
The final ritual words seemed to release everyone, meaning Ark and Bar began to fight being taken out. A guardsman went and wrapped a big hand around Allestine’s arm, but she refused his urging to go with him. She simply stood there and shook her head, denying everything she couldn’t accept, and the guardsman had to call someone to help him with her. When the two men began to drag her out she started to scream and struggle, and the screaming didn’t stop until a door closed to cut off the sound.
“Jovvi, are you all right?” Vallant asked, somehow from a long distance off. “Just hold on, it’s all over with now. Would you mind fetchin’ her some water?”
The last was to the bailiff, Jovvi knew in a dreamy, distant way, and then she became aware of how Vallant had begun to rub her hand and wrist. The brisk action brought her back a short way, and that was when deep shock moved aside for extreme pain.
“No, it’s all right,” Vallant said quickly and softly when she started to sob. “That sentence was terrible, but no one can say she didn’t earn it. She was the one who came after you, and no one was makin’ her do it. She went ahead and acted as she pleased because she refused to believe she’d ever be caught and punished. This is all her fault, not yours.”
“I … should have … looked harder for … a way to … stop her,” Jovvi sobbed, dizzy with guilt and horror. “It’s all … my fault, and … now she’ll die just … like my father did.”
That part was the hardest for Jovvi to bear, the knowledge that Allestine had been sent to the deep mines. They were a hundred times worse than the mine her father had died in, and all the workers were prisoners. Allestine was a hundred times more likely to die, and Jovvi knew it was all her fault.
“That witch won’t die,” Vallant said as Jovvi cried against him, holding her tight in his arms. “Once she comes out of the shock, she’ll start hatin’. She’ll hate the man who made her pay for what she did, she’ll hate the law that let him do it, and she’ll hate you for bein’ the cause of it all. It won’t be her own greed and stupidity that caused her downfall, it’ll be all your fault. So you see you don’t have to blame yourself, because she’ll be doin’ it for you.”
That line of reasoning was so absurd that it got Jovvi’s attention, and after a moment she was forced to admit that Vallant was probably right. It took away only a very small amount of the pain, but enough of it that she was able to sit straight and accept the water the bailiff brought. After sipping at it she noticed that they were the last ones left in the room, everyone else having gone without her seeing it.
“As soon as you feel a bit stronger, we’ll start to take you home,” Vallant said, and oddly enough his tone had shifted to pomposity again. “I knew a weak little thing like you couldn’t handle somethin’ like this alone, and I mean to tell Mardimil I was right as soon as we get back to the residence.”
Vallant had reverted to the game he and Rion had been playing earlier that morning, and Jovvi didn’t understand why—until she suddenly realized that there was someone lurking behind one of the partially closed doors at the front of the room. The someone was a Spirit magic user, and he was delighted with what he heard and felt.
“I’m not weak,” Jovvi protested stiffly as soon as she understood what was going on, putting the proper sense of insult on the surface of her mind. “This was all a terrible shock, and anyone in my position would have reacted the same.”
“Of course any woman would have acted the same,” Vallant returned with grating indulgence. “But that just proves I know women a lot better than Mardimil does. Are you ready to get goin’ yet? I promised myself a good long soak in the bath house, and I’m lookin’ forward to it.”
“Yes, certainly I’m ready,” Jovvi muttered as she handed the water glass back to the bailiff, who was fighting not to show his extreme disapproval. Then she rose stiffly to her feet, her inner self rigid because of the contact with Vallant’s supporting arm, and let herself be urged out of the room. She felt as though she’d been put through that very first test again, and was incredibly grateful that Vallant had noticed that eavesdropper. Now they were leaving the properly false impression behind them, and they could go home feeling they’d accomplished something.
But it would be quite some time before Jovvi got over what she’d been forced to witness.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Delin Moord glanced into the dining room as he passed it, but only Selendi and Homin were in there, giggling as they fed each other. It came as no surprise that it was breakfast which they fed each other, even though most people were almost ready to have lunch. Despite their early return to the house last night, Selendi, Homin and Bron—had still slept late. Kambil was awake, however, and when Delin joined him in the sitting room Kambil looked up.
“I heard you leaving this morning, and wondered whether it was a woman or business which got you out of bed so early,” Kambil said with a smile. “Then I realized that you were more determined than anticipating, and immediately ruled out the ladies. I can see you were successful in whatever the business was, so I’ll only ask if it concerns our joint project.”
“It certainly does, and you’re very much a spoilsport,” Delin answered, finding it impossible to hold back a pleased grin. “I wanted to make an announcement, but now you’ve ruined it. I have just what we need to know, and all it cost me was five gold dins.”
“Now that’s a reasonable price,” Kambil said with raised brows. “How could someone with all the knowledge we needed ask so little?”
“It was because the man didn’t have it, he only guarded it,” Delin said with a laugh. “I paid a visit to the main offices of the testing authority—wearing plain clothes and a gentleman’s privacy mask—and discovered that there was only one guard on duty on the premises. The man had been drinking and was dead asleep and snoring, and never even stirred when I walked past him. On the way out I left five gold dins in his uniform pocket, where he’s certain to find them. If our luck continues to hold, he’ll drink himself to death before anyone realizes someone might have gotten past him to the complete records.”
“Just how complete are we talking about?” Kambil asked, leaning forward in his chair to stare at Delin. “Just the commoners—or the noble groups as well?”
“The answer is both, but don’t get your hopes too high,” Delin replied, a shadow passing over his pleasure. “The records concerning Adriari’s group weren’t with the others, leading me to guess that the Advisors consider them no one else’s business. That means we can’t confirm or disprove the surmise that it was Adriari who put out those fires last night.”
“And so, in the absence of proof either way, we have to assume the worst,” Kambil said, leaning back again. “Believing anything else would be kidding ourselves, and we can’t afford to do that. But you did find out about the commoners in orange? When we missed our chance to question them last night, I thought Hiblit might have taken us down to oblivion with him.”
“No, all the information we’ll need was right there,” Delin said, turning to the tea service and beginning to pour himself a cup. “They really are the strongest of all the peasant groups, but a memorandum at the beginning of the file recommends that some of them be shifted around before a Blending is formed. Apparently they get along a bit too well.”
“And they’ll probably be told that the change is for the good of the group,” Kambil said with amusement. “I’ll admit I’m surprised, but I suppose I shouldn’t be. If we were defeated easily by commoners, our loss would reflect on the entire nobility.”
“But two of our groups will be defeated,” Delin reminded him, turning with his cup of tea to find a chair. “Now that I’ve seen exactly who’s involved, I can appreciate the point. The two groups are composed of the lowest segment of nobility, and the offspring of those who are out of favor with—or have annoyed—the Advisors.”
“Neither of whom will know they’re meant to lose,” Kambil said, nodding. “And the strongest commoner group will be broken up. I now
suspect we may have judged Rigos a bit too harshly. And what of the group Mardimil is in, the second strongest? Will they also be broken up?”
“The memorandum mentioned proposed attempts to disrupt their friendliness with one another,” Delin supplied after sipping at his tea. “If the disruptions work, they’ll be left alone to form a Blending that will never operate properly. If the disruptions are a failure, various members will be replaced despite the duplication of the plan used with the first group. Everything in the memorandum, however, leads me to realize that we are badly in need of adjusting of our own.”
“What sort of adjusting?” Kambil asked, his brows high. “I thought our progress with our abilities was perfectly acceptable.”
“It is, but we need to do better there as well,” Delin said, feeling the frown that creased his brow. “Our test results show us to be no more than the equals of the second strongest peasant group, and that will never do. We have to be the absolute best, but that isn’t our greatest problem. There were only hints in what I read, but everything suggests that Bron will keep us from Blending properly.”
“Because of his jealousy over Selendi and Homin?” Kambil asked, still obviously surprised but clearly understanding what Delin had meant. “That won’t be difficult to fix, not when Selendi has that driving need to be with every man she meets. We’ll just tell Bron that it’s now all right for him to lie with her, and—”
“Yes, I think you see the rest of the problem now,” Delin said when Kambil’s words broke off abruptly. “At the moment Bron is jealous of Homin, but once he lies with Selendi his jealousy will become contempt again. Homin’s new self confidence will never let him accept that contempt, and I noticed that he’s become aware of how I’ve been controlling Bron. Homin will counter Bron’s contempt with a taunt about how Bron is a fool to believe he’s our leader, and that will cause an explosion to tear the entire group apart.”
“So something has to be done about one or the other of them,” Kambil concluded, nodding again. “Weakening Homin’s self confidence would be easiest, but that would leave Bron as a continuing problem for the rest of us. I think it’s him we have to do something about.”
“Such as what?” Delin challenged sourly. “How do we turn a loud-mouthed, obnoxious fool into someone we can Blend with? I racked my brain all the way back here, but not a single idea tumbled forth. If you’ve had better luck, I’ll be delighted to hear it.”
“I do have something of an idea, it’s just not fully formed yet,” Kambil said with a wave of his hand. “Give me a little while, and then we should be able to do something. Did you find out anything else in those reports?”
“One other thing,” Delin agreed, forcing himself to push aside the problem Bron represented. “That memorandum was highly confidential, so it included the triggering phrase used on the peasants which will control them during the competitions. They’ll be forced to obey whomever uses the phrase, and if they’re told to lose, they will.”
“If the commoners are controlled that tightly, why are they going through all this rigmarole about separating groups and breaking up friendships?” Kambil demanded. “All they would have to do is tell them to compete for a while before losing realistically, and the rest of the nonsense could be forgotten about.”
“That’s what I thought, but apparently the Advisors prefer to be a bit more subtle,” Delin replied with a shrug. “They’ll use the phrase on the group facing Adriari’s people first, but not on the others. The two peasant groups able to win will be allowed to do so, and only if they prove stronger than the two noble groups meant to face them in the second competition will the phrase be used again. If not, the noble groups will simply be allowed to win on their own. The observers’ group will be watching closely, so that’s probably the best way to handle it.”
“The observers’ group composed of commoner leaders,” Kambil remembered aloud. “Yes, I’d almost forgotten about them. Have they ever lodged a really serious protest over the outcome of one of the competitions? You’d think it would be easier to buy them off rather than try to fool them.”
“They’re a bunch of malcontents and discontents who would rather make trouble than have gold,” Delin informed him. “I’m quoting my father there, but there’s no reason to think his assessment is wrong. They’re all proven rabble-rousers who have a common hatred for their betters, and they’ve made trouble more than once. The Advisors clearly have no desire to cause a riot, so they use subtlety rather than gold.”
“Which doing, if I’m not mistaken, you intend to put to your own use,” Kambil said, studying him narrowly. “Would you like to share whatever it is you have in mind?”
“Well, you were the one who brought the point up in the first place,” Delin responded with a smile, enjoying himself again. “You said, in effect, that we would be best off if we never had to face Adriari’s group. But there was only one way to accomplish that, and the single way was impossible. Do you still consider it so impossible?”
“You intend to help the commoners win against them?” Kambil demanded, satisfyingly quick to understand. “From what you’ve said I assume you mean to tell them about the keying phrase, and trust them to find a way around the need to respond to it. But even assuming their Blending works and they’re able to win, what about when we have to face them? You said our two groups are equally strong.”
“What would you propose as an alternative plan?” Delin countered, privately contemptuous of the man’s cowardice. “Figure out which group will face Adriari’s second? That group will be us if our plans go right, and for all we know they’ll be stronger rather than just our equals. No, we have to take a chance here, but it’s one that offers us an edge beyond the fact that the peasants are actually our inferiors rather than our equals. It seems that the members of that group have their little … quirks.”
“What do you mean by quirks?” Kambil asked, still clearly concerned but now a bit calmer. “Will they all faint if we yell ‘boo!’ together?”
“Your sarcasm isn’t far off the mark,” Delin allowed with a grin. “It seems that their lady of Fire is easily frightened and cowed, the sort of lady who trembles and weeps. She spent two years married to a sadistic merchant, and never once even singed his toes.”
“Really,” Kambil said, his brows high again. “No wonder Mardimil refused to discuss her. She’s probably the only woman he’s ever known who hasn’t told him what to do.”
“And our acquaintance Mardimil has his dear mother still riding on his back,” Delin continued. “He’s changed his given name in an effort to free himself from her, but the one time she barged into the residence she nearly succeeded in dragging him out with her. If we arrange for her to visit him again at just the wrong time…”
“He’ll be so disconcerted that he probably won’t be able to function at all,” Kambil finished for him, nodding approvingly. “And if we have trouble arranging a visit, we can always send a note supposedly from her that will rattle his teeth. What about the others?”
“The Earth magic member has a morbid fear of burnout, and the Water magic user is a claustrophobe,” Delin supplied, checking the mental file he’d put all the information in. “They’ll be childishly simple to manipulate, assuming they manage an actual Blending to begin with. And on top of that, the Water magic user has managed to start a feud with the lady of Fire, which has to indicate some sort of higher talent on his part. Earth magic and Spirit magic were more than close to begin with, but now the two work to avoid each other. Again, they all may find it impossible to Blend, but if they manage it we can safely set them against Adriari’s group.”
“That’s a rather large if,” Kambil observed, crossing his legs as he finally reached for his own teacup. “But you haven’t said anything about that Spirit magic user. What’s his or her quirk?”
“Her, and she doesn’t seem to have one,” Delin replied, looking down into the depths of his tea. “That disturbed me at first, but in the absence of a quirk she
has a weakness. She strongly dislikes the idea of becoming involved with the legal system, so they’ve arranged for someone close to her to be tried and sentenced today. I don’t know all the details, but she was involved in some way and they expect her to blame herself for whatever happens.”
“Which will ruin her balance, at least for a time,” Kambil said, once again nodding with approval. “And if we should need to, reminding her of the incident at the proper time will affect her balance again. Yes, I can see now why you want to help them against Adriari’s group. If they make it through far enough to face us, we won’t have any trouble handling them. So now what?”
“Now all that’s left is to find out who will be taking Hiblit’s place,” Delin said with a sigh. “I’d suggest that the next one can’t possibly be as bad as the first two, but something tells me we haven’t yet seen the worst. Our luck has been too good everywhere else for it to continue to hold here.”
“Well, it won’t be long before we find out,” Kambil said, something about him suggesting that he found Delin’s pessimism amusing. “A messenger came by earlier with word that our most recent Advisory agent would call on us later today. We were therefore asked to remain in the residence, but you’d already gone. I didn’t mention that, of course, and planned to point out that you couldn’t have known you were supposed to have stayed in if the agent got here before you returned.”
“Well, that’s one piece of luck in our favor,” Delin allowed, feeling fractionally better. “I’m here and he’s not, so we have no excuses or explanations to make. I wonder”