02 - The Barbed Rose (16 page)

The woman was older than Kallista by at least ten years, and taller. Tall as Torchay or Joh. She wore her reddish brown hair pulled back hard into a regulation queue, and freckles liberally dotted her tanned face. She stood blocking their path long enough for Kallista to observe all this as well as the fine lines radiating from the corners of her eyes and the blended green and brown of those eyes, until the Reinine spoke.

“Leyja, have our guests arrived?”

“They have, Naitan.” With one last glare at Torchay, the woman stepped back and admitted them to the private chambers of the ruler of all Adara.

Kallista swept into a deep bow in unison with her men. This might be an “intimate” dinner, but the Reinine was still the Reinine.

“I bid welcome to your ilian, welcome to this house.” As the highest ranking member of her ilian, the Reinine spoke the old words of formal greeting.

“I thank you for your generous hospitality.” Kallista rose from her bow, speaking for her family. “Peace between us.”

“Peace between us,” Torchay echoed her a fraction faster than the other two. He stepped forward, offering an open hand to the Reinine’s gray-haired ilias.

After a moment’s hesitation, Keldrey gripped it and nodded. “Peace.”

“Peace?” The woman who was bodyguard and ilias sounded outraged.

“Yes, Leyja,
peace
.” The Reinine laid a hand on her ilias’s arm. “If they can forgive enough to marry one who nearly killed half their number, you can be civil to one who offended far less.”

Kallista touched Joh’s arm to ease his recoil at the Reinine’s words. Torchay bowed again, lower. “I apologize for my offense. Peace between us.”

Still Leyja scowled, until the Reinine—did she pinch her? Kallista hid her smile as Leyja stepped forward and spoke, “Peace.”

She did not take Torchay’s hand, but the Reinine was satisfied, so Kallista was as well.

“Let me make you known to my ilian.” The Reinine gestured them farther into the elegant silver-and-blue-appointed parlor. “Keldrey you have met. These are Leyja, Syr and Ferenday.”

The two other men were of an age with their iliasti, Syr tall and lean with pale brown hair behind a receding hairline and Ferenday stocky and dark. They nodded without speaking. Kallista introduced her mates to those who hadn’t met them already and the Reinine led the way to a table groaning with food. Kallista’s stomach reminded her that she hadn’t bothered to fill it since morning.

When the food had been blessed, shared among plates and begun to enter empty stomachs, Kallista dared to move beyond trivial small talk. “I know we were isolated in our mountain home, but I wonder that we had not heard of your marriage, my Reinine.”

“You should not.” Serysta Reinine sounded sour. “The prinsipi’s council would far rather it had not happened at all, but since they have no power to dissolve it without our agreement, they seem determined to keep it secret, or pretend it did not take place.”

Kallista frowned. “Why would they do that? I admit, I know nothing of politics or diplomacy—”

“The marriage of a Reinine—indeed, of a prinsep or prinsipella—is a matter of state. Alliances are made, and sometimes broken, through bonds of ilian. There was no political advantage to marrying my bodyguards.”

“Then why did you? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“We’ve asked her that ourselves,” Keldrey said from the far end of the table. “Often. Especially when the council has been yapping at her again.”

“Because I could not contemplate life without the four of you at my side,” the Reinine snapped. She paused to eliminate her small show of temper. “Forgive me for my lapse in manners.”

“No forgiveness is required, Your Majesty.” Kallista did her best to bow while seated, without much success.

“When I was selected to be Reinine, I left my temple bonds. I decided that I would not marry again. I was older than you are now, my children were grown, or nearly so. I thought I could avoid problems by avoiding entanglements. There would be no appearance of partiality, none could accuse me of favoritism.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “These four were named my bodyguards at that time, two on duty at every hour.”

Kallista nodded. The Reinine was certainly more important than an ordinary military naitan with a single guard. In the part of her mind not paying attention, Kallista wondered why the Reinine had not been targeted with the army’s naitani in the assassins’ attack. Because of those bodyguards? Because the Reinine’s truthsaying magic was not as dangerous as a soldier naitan’s fire or lightning? Or was it that the rebels were not yet ready to make such a move? She shook off the disturbing questions to listen.

“Last year,” Serysta went on, “with the Tibran invasion, the prinsipi’s council began making noises about new bodyguards. These four were getting old, they said. Losing steps.”

“They were right,” Keldrey said. “We are losing steps.”

Leyja nodded agreement. The other two just watched. They seemed even more silent than the usual run of bodyguard.

“I don’t care,” Serysta retorted. “I want you with me. Who knows if these barely budded beginners can be trusted? There’s a rebellion on.”

“You know,” Leyja said. “You’re a truthsayer. You know.”

Serysta frowned. “It’s just that—” She waved a hand. “No matter. We are ilian, and that’s the end of it. If I knew who would be selected as Reinine after me, I would tell her ‘Bring your ilian with you.’ It’s not good to do this alone.”

“It will be many years yet before Adara must face that choice.” Cold ran down Kallista’s spine at the thought of Adara’s prinsipi and prelates gathering to select a new Reinine. Almost as if the magic reacted.

“Enough about personal matters.” Serysta Reinine’s smile was sly. “Or at least about
my
personal matters. What of yours? You seem of different minds than when you left me yesterday.”

“We…worked things out.” Kallista lifted her glass to her ilian. “When magic carries you through a person’s soul, you know very well what sort of person he is. Joh will do very well with us, I think.”

“And your magic? How did it go in the courtyard this morning?”

Kallista saw Obed’s blush and couldn’t hide her own. “We ran into a few more things that needed to be worked out.” Her solution had worked, but she couldn’t deny that tying up one’s ilias for sex was decadent behavior.

“But your magic
has
returned.”

“I think so.” Kallista shook her head, frowned. “Control over my own magic, my lightning, is not what it should be. Control over the godstruck magic is worse. I can scarcely call it to my hand. It does not respond willingly, and I don’t know whether that is because it has not completely recovered after the twins, or because three of our number are not with us. I know two of those missing hold order and eagerness in their magic, which could be the cause of the problem.”

The Reinine frowned, exchanged a glance with her iliasti. “But you
can
use it, can’t you?”

This third question about the magic disturbed Kallista. Even with the attacks on the generals and the naitani, Arikon itself was secure. Wasn’t it?

“My Reinine.” Kallista set her fork beside her plate. “I realize that I am only a captain in your service, and that there are many things I do not need to know. But is there some urgency greater than I have been told?”

She realized then that she knew things the Reinine did not know. Things that were very, very urgent.

“I have been—” Serysta began at the same time Kallista spoke again.

“You should know—”

They both broke off, and the Reinine gestured for Kallista to go on. “What is it I should know?”

“Dreams,” Kallista said. “My iliasti have had dreams. This is why I do not yet trust my magic, because their dreams should have been mine.”

“And what have your iliasti dreamed?” Serysta lounged in her chair as if relaxed, but the knuckles on her hand around the silver goblet were white.

Torchay leaned forward. “Demons,” he said. “On the plain before Arikon.”

“Seven demons,” Joh said from his spot near the far end of the table. “At least one of them inside the city. Another close by. The rest are scattered across Adara.”

Serysta Reinine slowly set her goblet back on the table. “You are certain of this? That it was demons you dreamed?”

“What else could hold such evil?” Joh asked.

“I know demons,” Torchay said. “I’ve seen one before, in the Tibran capital when Kallista destroyed it. I saw it through her eyes. I know how they appear. I felt its attack. I know their evil.
I know.
They were demons in my dream.”

CHAPTER NINE

S
erysta Reinine looked up from her plate. “This could explain a problem of—”

“No, Naitan,” Leyja protested as Keldrey called the Reinine by name.

“She must know.” Serysta waved aside their protests. “The captain is godstruck. There is no falsehood in her, only concern for Adara. I can trust her and her ilian. You were there when they were bound. They are truly one. You know that. They are the only ones I can trust, aside from you, my ilian, in this whole deceit-riddled place.”

The depth of trust displayed by the Reinine of all Adara made Kallista blink. “However I may serve, my Reinine, you know you have only to ask it.”

Serysta’s smile held teasing. “And then you will argue with me until I have changed my mind.”

Did she dare respond in kind?
Kallista pretended to frown. “Not so, my Reinine. I will argue until
you
have changed
mine
.”

Serysta laughed, then her mood went solemn. “Your magic is not the only missing magic in the palace. Mine seems to have gone astray as well.”

Alarm shot through Kallista, then echoed through the links from her marked ones. “Completely?”

The Reinine shook her head. “Erratically. The larger the group I am in, the less likely I am to be able to read truth, though sometimes in small groups, the magic is silent as well. I cannot find—I have not been able to distinguish what causes it to come and go, but…”

“The demons could explain it.” Kallista tried to reason her way through. “Demons have no physical presence. They can act only through the humans they influence or possess. Have you noticed your magic failing when any particular person is present?”

“I haven’t paid much attention to who was present when it failed,” Serysta admitted.

“I have,” Leyja said.

“And I.” Syr spoke for the first time since they’d been introduced.

“What have you noticed?” Torchay asked.

“Nothing.” Leyja’s anger sounded in her voice. “When the magic fades, different people have been present. Not
all
different people, of course, but no one person has been there
every
time.”

“How do you know?” Serysta asked, more curious than inquisitorial. “How do you know when the magic fades?”

“I can feel it.” Leyja looked at Syr and got his confirming nod. The other two agreed as well. “I couldn’t before we were ilian. Or maybe it’s that your magic never faded before. Your magic is—it’s always there. Always reading truth. Like light or warmth surrounding you. Not like—”

Leyja glanced at Kallista, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Not like other naitani who must
call
magic, correct?”

Kallista nodded. “My magic sleeps until I call it, except for the—well, even in the godmarked, it sleeps until it is called.”

“But yours never sleeps,” Leyja went on. “So when it fades, we feel the—the cold. And we look to see who is there.”

“I can look also,” Kallista said. “I should be able to see what your iliasti cannot.”

“If we can afford the time for it,” Serysta amended.

“I think we must take the time.” Kallista tried to bow in her chair again. “All respect to the Reinine, I—
we
are Adara’s only weapon against demons. I do not know what other task you might have for me, Your Majesty, but I do not think I should leave Arikon until we find this demon and…contain it. Destroy it, if I can, but without my other iliasti…”

“I will send troops to escort them here,” the Reinine said. “Troops that you and I together will test for loyalty. For this, I will find troops, no matter how my new generals scream.”

“Thank you, my Reinine.” Kallista put all her gratitude and relief into her voice. “If they hurry, they might find them at Sumald, where they were to resupply. Of course, someone will have to be sent to carry the gold the rest of the way to Korbin, but that shouldn’t be—”

“Gold?” The Reinine frowned, held up a hand. “What gold?”

“The payment for the new string of cavalry remounts due from the Korbin horse breeders.” The bad feeling in the pit of Kallista’s stomach got worse with every word she spoke, as the Reinine’s expression failed to clear.

“Courier Torvyll brought the gold along with her summons. She said that you suggested—very strongly suggested—I send Aisse and the babies to safety in Korbin, and since they were traveling that way anyway, would they please take the gold along with them for the horse farms? She had the gold. She had all the paperwork. Was it false?”

“There is a payment sent every year when the remounts come down from the mountains and off the plains,” the Reinine said, “and we do on occasion ask ordinary citizens to carry this money if they are making the trip, but always in a regular caravan, and never—why would anyone think a family with two infants and a pregnant woman a suitable transport for such a thing? Especially in a time like this?

“And I merely commented that your children might be safer elsewhere. I certainly never meant to order them as far as Korbin, or even to suggest it.” She looked at her ilian. “We will look into it.”

“Ilias,” Keldrey spoke, “one more thing. We’re the only ones who know about the demons. It should stay that way. To avoid panic.”

“I agree.” Kallista nodded energetically. “Not to mention the way people look at you when you talk of things they believe mere legend. Bad enough to
be
a legend come to life.”

“Of course, of course. We all know the need for discretion.” Then the Reinine smiled, almost forcibly. “I look forward to seeing how your daughters have grown.”