Mystic and Rider

by Sharon Shinn

  “I would not want to risk the contagion,” Senneth said. “And they will be more comfortable in their own beds.”

  “Anyone so ill perhaps should not risk spreading disease through the whole countryside,” the guard said. “I wonder what sickness they have that worries you—but only worries you so much.”

  “I wonder what right you have to question me,” she replied.

  He gave her a short, hard nod. “The right of any concerned citizen to keep his neighbors and himself safe.”

  “Ah—and you live here?” Senneth said. “In this town? You guard its gates and its people?”

  Tayse could tell she had vexed the guard. He was fairly certain they were about to make their visit to this town memorable. Even now, bystanders were gathering on the corners of the street, watching them and whispering to each other. Travelers passed them on either side, glancing over at what was clearly a confrontation, and hurrying on before they got ensnared in the quarrel.

  “Nearby,” the guard said stiffly. “Close enough to have some concerns for the residents of this city.”

  “Well, I have some concern as well, and that is to keep from spreading fever through these streets,” she said. “So if you will let us pass, we will be on our way.”

  “I think I should take you first to see my captain,” the guard replied.

  Senneth’s voice was very soft. “I think you will be sorry if you try to detain us,” she said. “We travel on royal business—my friends are friends of the king—and, sick or well, they have a duty they must perform on his behalf. Stand out of our way.”

  “Prove your affiliation,” the guard demanded.

  With one hand, Tayse scraped his sword from its scabbard; with the other, he pulled back the front of his coat to reveal the golden lion embroidered on the sash beneath. Beside him, in perfect synchronization, Justin did the same. Neither of them spoke, but their faces offered expressions of cold menace.

  The guard and his companions reined back a pace or two, looking both nervous and alarmed. One of them whispered an oath and pulled back even farther. The guard who had addressed them forced his horse forward again as if he felt no uneasiness.

  “That is no proof,” he said. “Anyone may wear a vest of any design he chooses.”

  Tayse effortlessly swung his sword upright, holding it motionless right before his face. “I shall offer you any proof you choose,” he said. “But perhaps you would prefer not to suffer a massacre here on the market streets.”

  “It would be no massacre,” the guard said.

  “Yes,” Tayse replied, “it would. We are King’s Riders, these travelers are under our protection, and we will not sit here longer and bandy words with you. Move aside and let us pass.”

  He wasn’t sure what it was—the absolute assurance of his voice, his unyielding expression, or the fact that this guard really had no rights here and knew it—but the Pale Mother’s soldiers slowly and reluctantly backed their horses from the road. Not sheathing their weapons, Tayse and Justin escorted their companions forward. It seemed as if they, as if the whole town, had been enveloped in a waiting silence, holding a deep collective breath as the standoff unfolded. The whole world seemed to be watching, wordless and uncertain, as the five of them trotted down to the edge of town and then continued onto the outer road. No one shouted after them; no one followed. Yet neither Tayse nor Justin put away their swords as they continued to ride, shifting to a canter as they got farther from the city.

  “All the great goddesses defend me,” Tayse heard Kirra’s voice, for naturally she was the first one to feel the need to break the silence. “We barely got out of there without a battle.”

  “That would have been disastrous,” Senneth said. “This was bad enough.”

  “I’m almost dumbfounded,” Tayse said. “I’d expect soldiers from one of the Twelve Houses to have that sort of nerve, but a personal guard? From what amounts to a single manor? What kind of power do they think they have behind them to be able to question private citizens that way?”

  “He wasn’t even frightened at the sight of your lions,” Senneth said. “When’s the last time that’s ever happened to you?”

  Justin glanced over at her. “Never.”

  “Well, if we ever thought we were riding incognito through the southern provinces, we can rid ourselves of that notion,” Kirra said. “Coralinda Gisseltess will learn very soon that Riders are investigating the mood of the southern towns. And if she pieces together all the stories about us, she will be able to figure out that Riders are guarding mystics. What will she make of that tale, I wonder?”

  “Do we care what she thinks?” Justin asked.

  Senneth was the one to answer. “Oh yes,” she replied. “Coralinda Gisseltess is greatly to be feared.”

  Tayse said nothing more. His eyes were scanning the way before them; his ears were straining to hear any sounds of pursuit from behind. He finally judged it safe to replace his sword, but he kept his hand upon the hilt. He was relieved when they came around a bend in the road to find Cammon awaiting them, already mounted and ready to travel. He had expected to find the boy sitting somewhere off to the side, plucking winter grass and languishing in boredom, but he had forgotten: Cammon never misread the moods of his companions, even from a distance. He had probably been in the saddle and ready to ride while they were still arguing back in the city.

  They didn’t even have to break stride as Cammon swept his mount around and fell in beside the others. “I suppose we didn’t have a chance to buy supplies,” he observed.

  A laugh from Kirra. “Why, no. Somehow in all the excitement, we forgot.”

  “How’s the raelynx?” Senneth asked.

  “Calm,” Cammon replied. “Tell me the details. All I could tell was trouble.”

  “Trouble about sums it up,” Justin said, and launched into the tale.

  “I’m guessing we’re going to find all of Nocklyn given over to the Silver Lady,” Senneth said when he was finished. “We may find it impossible to stop at any of the small towns with the hope of spending the night.”

  “Maybe the mystics can detour around the settlements and the Riders can pick up provisions,” Cammon suggested.

  “Even at Nocklyn Towers?” Kirra said, her voice faintly mocking.

  “Nocklyn Towers will be a different story,” Senneth said. “I think Cammon is right—we should skirt the towns along the way. But we’ll have to ride into the city. We’ll have to see just exactly what Els Nocklyn has gotten himself into.”

  CHAPTER 21

  IT was two and a half more days before they made it to Nocklyn Towers. Along the way, they were actually successful at being circumspect. As Cammon had suggested, they mostly boycotted the small towns, though Tayse and Justin did ride in for supplies once while the others waited a reasonable distance down the road. All the towns they passed through were, like Neft, festooned with evidence of the Silver Lady’s presence: moonstones in the windows, flags over the doors, shrines in the squares. A young shopgirl handed Tayse a few coppers in change, accidentally brushing his palm with a heavy moonstone charm hung from her silver bracelet. He found himself wondering what it would be like if that cool touch brought a searing pain instead of the faintest sensation of glasslike smoothness.

  He wondered what it would be like to fear such a touch, which could occur randomly and expose a dangerous secret. He was not used to either secrecy or fear. But his imagination did not entirely fail him in this instance.

  During the days, while they rode, and during the nights, while they sat around the campfire, Senneth and Cammon practiced various skills. To judge by the bits of conversation Tayse could overhear, Cammon was becoming rapidly more adept at handling the raelynx, so much so that Senneth felt comfortable giving him entire control of the creature for several hours at a time. None of the rest of them were quite so comfortable. Particularly not after that first night on the road, when Kirra had looked up from the fire and screamed.

  The raelynx
crouched just outside the circle of firelight, watching them all with a hungry attention.

  “Mother defend me,” Senneth swore—and then did something, and the raelynx slunk away. Tayse didn’t even have to look to know that Justin had drawn his dagger for close fighting, as he himself had. But he had no illusions that either of them was fast enough to kill the creature before it killed one of them.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Cammon apologized. He didn’t seem too upset about the incident, so Tayse guessed that his control had been holding well enough to prevent an actual attack—or at least Cammon thought so.

  Even Donnal looked a little unnerved. “I didn’t sense it anywhere near us,” he said. “Usually I’m more attuned to the wild creatures.”

  Kirra had a hand to her heart, though with her it was hard to tell if that was drama or genuine hysteria. “I feel faint,” she said. “I feel the way a little rabbit must feel upon looking up and seeing the hawk’s wings overhead.”

  Tayse looked at Senneth. “How exactly did that happen?”

  She met his eyes, complete tranquillity in hers. “A little slip. Everything’s fine.”

  “Once we leave Nocklyn,” he said, “we have to seriously consider detouring to the Lirrens.”

  “We’d hardly make it through the mountains this time of year,” Senneth said. “But maybe spring will be closer by the time we’re on our way back from Gisseltess. Though—by then—we may be in a hurry.”

  No one asked why they might be in a rush. They all worried about what they might find at the end of their journey, in the heart of Gisseltess. They already had plenty of disturbing news for the king; it was clear Senneth was expecting more.

  “I won’t slip again,” Cammon said. “You’ll see. I know what I did wrong this time.”

  Justin sheathed his dagger. “We’ll see if we aren’t dead,” he said with his usual sarcasm, though he softened his tone a little for Cammon’s sake.

  Cammon grinned at him. “Well, I think the creature is hungry. Maybe if he eats one of us, he’ll be better behaved.”

  “Maybe we’ll let him hunt tomorrow,” Senneth said. “Though we’re in pretty populated territory. I don’t know.”

  “Let’s just kill something ourselves and throw it to him,” Justin said. “I’ll go out and bring down some game. Anything to keep him from turning his eyes my way.”

  But Tayse didn’t want to lose Justin’s sword arm, so the next day they sent Donnal off in search of fresh meat. He returned with enough to satiate the wild creature and add some variety to their own cook pot, and even Justin congratulated him on his success.

  They were still sitting around the campfire, having finished their meal, when Senneth said, “All right. All of you watch me for a moment. Cammon, don’t say anything. The rest of you just tell me—well, you’ll know.”

  So they all shifted position to stare at her across the low flames. Not for the first time, Tayse had the odd impression that she herself was like a fire—or rather, a long, sturdy candle, her white-blond hair like a lit wick around her face. She shut her eyes and appeared to meditate for a moment, and then she vanished.

  “Hey!” Kirra cried, and the rest of them also offered some exclamation of amazement.

  Except Cammon, of course, who looked around in bewilderment. “What? What did she do? Did she turn herself into something else?”

  “She disappeared, you halfwit,” Justin said in exasperation. “It’s worse than being around a blind man—being around a man who sees things that aren’t really there.”

  “She is really there,” Cammon said.

  Sounding completely normal, which made it even eerier, Senneth’s voice emerged from the vacant space above her bedroll. “So no one can see me but Cammon?”

  “Obviously not,” Tayse said.

  “Can you hold the illusion if someone touches you?” Donnal asked.

  “Ah, there’s a good question,” said the disembodied voice. “Let’s see—”

  A little yelp from Kirra, who rubbed her arm and looked in what was surely feigned apprehension at Senneth’s empty blanket. “You pinched me! This is very spooky.”

  “But you didn’t materialize,” Donnal said. “We didn’t see you even when you put your hand on Kirra. That’s good.”

  “I saw her,” Cammon said.

  “How long can you stay invisible?” Kirra asked.

  “I’m not sure. I might practice tomorrow on the road. But now I want to try something else.” Suddenly she was sitting among them again, looking entirely relaxed and more than a little pleased with herself. “Who wants to volunteer?”

  There were, for a moment, no takers.

  “I will,” Cammon said.

  “Not you. Donnal?”

  The dark man nodded. “Sure. What do you want me to do?”

  “Just sit there. Everyone look at Donnal.”

  Tayse obediently bent his eyes in the required direction. He was not entirely surprised when Donnal suddenly seemed to wink out of existence. From the rest came low murmurs of approval or uncertainty.

  “I can’t see myself,” Donnal said.

  “I can see you,” Cammon said.

  With an effort, Tayse restrained himself from telling Cammon to shut up. By the look on Kirra’s face, she was making the same effort.

  “Do you have any unpleasant sensations? Do you feel strange?” Senneth asked.

  “No, I feel fine. But I have to say it’s a little odd.” Almost on the words, he was corporeal again. He looked down at his body as if to check that no parts were missing. “I wonder how many people you can enchant at a time and how long you can hold it,” he said.

  Justin was nodding. “That would be a damn useful skill to have on a battlefield.”

  “So far, I don’t think I can work the magic on more than one or two people at a time,” Senneth said regretfully. “And I wouldn’t think I could hold the spell for very long. But I’m convinced it will still come in handy from time to time.”

  “But what about your code of honor and all that?” Justin asked. “You know, can’t turn someone else into a wolf, those things Kirra said before.”

  Tayse saw the women exchange glances filled with a bit of humor and a bit of rue. “He’s right,” Kirra said. “Though it’s not exactly the same thing, since you didn’t really change him.”

  “Now I suppose I’ll have to examine my conscience before I try such tricks again,” Senneth said, but she was laughing. Tayse thought, not for the first time, that her sense of honor was strong but probably a bit adaptable—and that she was not afraid to break rules if the incentives were desperate enough.

  “Isn’t all this experimenting giving you a headache?” Tayse asked.

  She was laughing again. “No, I think that last time my headache was more a product of fury than magic. Besides, this sort of spell isn’t particularly draining. It’s just—complicated.”

  “I wonder if I could learn it,” Cammon said.

  Tayse was sure he was not the only one thinking, You need to learn the spell that strikes you silent, but no one said it. Senneth grinned at him. “Once you entirely master the trick of subduing the raelynx,” she said, “we’ll work on this one.”

  Kirra snapped a stick and tossed it into the fire. “So we’ll be in Nocklyn Towers by tomorrow evening,” she said. “Have you figured out what approach we should take?”

  “How well do you know Els Nocklyn?” Senneth asked. “Will he see you if you try to make an appointment?”

  Kirra shook her head. “I know him well enough to be able to make conversation if we’re seated next to each other at the dinner table,” she replied. “But I would think—if I said I was in town—well, he would hardly turn me away. He would imagine I come on my father’s behalf.”

  Senneth was pursing her lips. “But Darryn Rappengrass said he’s been sick and that his daughter is doing much of the day-today governing,” she said thoughtfully. “Will she see you? And do you suppose she’s in residence at Nocklyn To
wers?”

  “Mayva Nocklyn,” Kirra said. “Oh, yes. She considers herself a friend.”

  THE problem, as Tayse had foreseen all along, was the raelynx. Nocklyn Towers was a bustling city of many thousand souls, and there was no way to attempt to smuggle the cat through the guarded gates and onto the crowded streets. Senneth did not seem entirely certain that Cammon’s hold on the animal was strong enough to endure for more than an hour or two, but their foray into the city was likely to take a full day or even longer. And she was not willing to let Kirra attempt the interview with the Nocklyn family alone.

  “I’ll be fine,” Cammon said more than once, as they halted that afternoon within sight of the city gates. “We’ll pull off the road a half mile or so, and I’ll just hold him as tight as I can.”

  “So many temptations,” Senneth said, her voice worried. “Hundreds of people use this road every day. It might be more than he can stand, seeing so much prey stroll by.”

  “I’ll stay with them,” Donnal said. “I’ll hunt every few hours—bring him back a bird or a squirrel or something. I’ll keep him so full he won’t even want to move.”

  “Sounds like our best option,” Tayse said. Senneth reluctantly agreed. They made quick plans for where Cammon should camp and how they should get in touch again if something went awry.

  “I’ll be able to tell,” Cammon said.

  Senneth nodded. “Send Donnal into the city to find us if something happens. Hawk, jay, some kind of bird shape. One of us will be at the western gates. But I don’t think anything will go wrong here.”

  Justin snorted in disbelief, so Tayse didn’t have to.

  “We’ll be at the Nockworth Hotel,” Kirra added. When the others gave her questioning looks, she said in a haughty voice, “A Danalustrous always stays at the Nockworth when visiting in Nocklyn Towers.”

  “Come to the gate first if anything goes wrong,” Senneth instructed Donnal. “And then the Nockworth. But come to the hotel in human form.”

  Donnal grinned. “I think I would have figured that out on my own.”