A Young Man Without Magic (32 page)

What's more, she might not be the only one. Her family was known here at the Boar's Head, and Lord Allutar might trace her back here and find Anrel. Anrel did not want anything to bring him to Lord Allutar's attention. Just knowing that the landgrave was within the same city walls was distressing; suppose they encountered each other on the street?

In fact, that might happen, if Anrel ever set foot outside the inn. Even narrow little Cobbler Street was not safe, as Allutar might well decide to have a pair of boots reheeled.

This was going to be severely limiting, perhaps even more limiting than the snow that was falling again. It would also complicate any attempt to woo Tazia, or to gain Garras's blessing for his interest in her—how much of a man could he look, when he did not dare to walk the streets openly?

That was trivial when Reva's very life was at risk, but still, he could not help thinking about it.

Perhaps, he thought despairingly, he should give up on Tazia and her family, let Reva destroy herself, then go on to Lume and hide there, as he had originally planned.

But he could not give up on Tazia. And besides, Lord Allutar walked the streets of Lume, as well. He was a member of the Grand Council.

But Lume was so much larger than Beynos, and there were undoubtedly places Allutar did not go. Anrel could not imagine him venturing into the treacherous alleys of the Pensioners' Quarter, or the rowdy taverns behind the court schools, or the stinking fish markets of the Galdin steps—and that was only in the visible and inhabited portions of the capital! The scattered ruins left by the Old Empire were largely shunned by modern-day Walasians, and no one but drunken idiots trying to prove their courage ever ventured into the ancient tunnels beneath the city without a very good reason. There were a thousand places to hide in Lume—more than a thousand. Anrel knew many of them already, where he knew nothing of Beynos except what he had seen riding through, and what he had observed since his arrival a few hours before.

Anrel also knew there were other places besides Beynos and Lume. Perhaps he should head for somewhere in Lithrayn, or even across the border into the Cousins—but he had never been there. He had never been anywhere except Aulix and Lume, and various points in between them.

He glanced at Tazia, who seemed happily oblivious of how much danger her sister was in.

“I'm supposed to meet Mistress li-Dargalleis tomorrow morning,” Reva said. “We'll work out the details then of when I might best bewitch Lord Allutar.”

“You'll need to have both of them present,” Nivain said.

“Of
course
, Mother,” Reva replied. “I
have
cast love spells before, you know!”

Perynis giggled at that. “Remember that one in Milinkor?” she said. “I thought he was going to pull up her skirt and tup her right there at the ball!”

“Perynis!” Nivain said, scandalized. She glanced around to make sure no one else had heard her daughter's remark.

“I'm not sure she would have minded,” Garras said.

“That spell did affect both of them,” Reva added. “It wasn't as one-sided as what Mistress li-Dargalleis seems to want.”

“Well, let us hope that this Lord Allutar will be a little more restrained in his affections,” Nivain replied.

“I'm sure he will,” Anrel said. “He's a man of strong will.”

Reva seemed irritated by this comment, and glared at Anrel. Tazia tugged gently at his hand, and he looked at her.

“Lord Allutar knows you, doesn't he?” she whispered.

“Yes, he does.”

“He's the one who . . . he wants you dead?”

“I believe so, yes. Though I haven't asked him. It was Lord Neriam, the First Lord Magistrate, who recognized me and set Naith's city watch upon me, and Neriam is both Allutar's subordinate and his friend. I haven't had the opportunity to speak to Lord Allutar since I . . . since the incident in Naith, but I
assume
Lord Neriam informed the landgrave of the miscreant's identity.”

He did not mention that once his identity was known his speech had also probably had some effect on Lord Allutar's courtship of Lady Saria, and that this might contribute to further ill will on Allutar's part.

Tazia nodded. “He must know, then, if he is Lord Neriam's superior. And he's here in Beynos?”

“So says Reva's client, and I have no reason to doubt it. Lord Allutar did name himself to the Grand Council, and it seems entirely reasonable that he would have a place in Beynos.”

“Then you aren't safe here.”

Anrel was startled that she had realized this; certainly, the rest of her
family did not appear to have come to any such conclusion. He glanced at Tazia's parents, who were talking to Reva.

“I doubt Lord Allutar would ever set foot in a place like the Boar's Head,” Anrel said.

“I suppose not—a great noble like him could surely do better. But he mustn't see you anywhere. You mustn't go out.”

“That thought had occurred to me,” Anrel conceded.

Tazia threw her father a glance, then returned her gaze to Anrel. “Perhaps you should go on, then,” she said. “To Lume, or wherever you're going.”

“I had been considering that possibility,” Anrel admitted.

Tazia looked up at him, then at her father once more, then back at Anrel.

“If I were to go,” Anrel whispered, slowly and deliberately, ready to stop at the first sign that he had misread Tazia's expression, “and I were to ask you to accompany me . . .”

“I would gladly do so,” Tazia answered.

Anrel stared at her for a long moment, resisting the urge to pull her closer, perhaps to kiss her. Then the memory of Perynis's unfortunate remark came to him, and he smiled crookedly; he suddenly had a great deal of sympathy for that unknown victim of Reva's witchcraft in Milinkor, whoever he might have been.

And that reminded him that Reva was on the verge of committing unintentional suicide.

“We can't go yet, though,” he told Tazia.

She once again looked at her father, more meaningfully this time.

“No, it's not that,” Anrel said. “Though in truth I would prefer an honorable parting, with your parents' consent given and a wedding announced. I do not insist on it, however, and arranging such a thing here in Beynos might not be practical.”

“I don't think Father would give his consent,” Tazia whispered.

Anrel frowned at that; now it was his turn to glance at Garras.

“I don't think he'll ever willingly part with any of us, despite his complaints,” Tazia said. “As long as we all bring in more than we cost, he'll
want us to stay. That money Reva is collecting? It will
never
be enough to buy her freedom.”

Anrel considered that for a moment, then decided it could wait. “We can discuss that further another time,” he said. “Right now, there's something more urgent.”

“What could be more urgent?”

“Your sister's life. I honestly do not believe she can safely enchant Lord Allutar, and if she is caught attempting it, she'll be hanged—or worse. Allutar sacrificed a young man's lifeblood to power one of his own spells at the autumnal equinox; I would rather not see him spend your sister's life in similar fashion at the vernal, or perhaps use her to enhance his sorcery in other ways.”

Tazia glanced at Reva, who was huddled with their mother. “You're sure he is that dangerous? That he would do that, if he caught her?”

“How can I be sure?” Anrel asked. “But I have seen Lord Allutar kill a man with nothing but raw magic; he is the most powerful sorcerer I have ever met. I know that
I
can detect the wards your family casts, and I felt the binding Reva and your mother attempted on me the day we met—felt it, and resisted it. And I'm not a tenth the sorcerer Lord Allutar is.”

“You think she should refuse the job?”

“I do.”

Tazia frowned. “But
fifty guilders
! She'll never agree to forgo so much. She wants so badly to strike out on her own.”

“Did you not just tell me that no amount of money would ever be enough for her father to release her?”

“
I
believe that, but
she
doesn't.”

Anrel bit his lip. He knew Tazia was right.

Twice, though, he had failed to intervene when someone faced death at Lord Allutar's hands. He had done nothing at all to save Urunar Kazien, even when he had his hands on another criminal whose life might perhaps have been substituted for the baker's son. He had done nothing remotely effective for Lord Valin; his efforts to keep Valin and Allutar apart, or to talk sense into Valin, had been worse than useless. He had let an acquaintance and his best friend die, and he did not want
to let yet a third life be needlessly snuffed out—particularly not the life of a sister of the woman he was coming to love. This time he would do
something
. He recalled the gold in his own coat again, and schemes began stirring in his brain.

“Let me see what I can do,” he said at last. “There may be a way.”

“How could there be?”

“I will concede that we may be unable to sway your sister, but there are other parties to this transaction,” Anrel said. “If Mistress li-Dargalleis should change her mind, perhaps set her cap for someone other than Lord Allutar, then Reva will be safe enough.”

“But why would she . . . ?”

“Let me see what I can do,” he repeated.

Tazia looked unconvinced, but did not argue further. “And when this matter is resolved, and my sister has finished with Lord Allutar, in one way or another—then what do you intend?”

“Then I intend to travel,” Anrel said lightly. “Eastward, I think—perhaps a stay in Lume, but then on to the eastern provinces, perhaps even a tour of the Cousins.”

“Ah. Would you be traveling alone?”

“I sincerely hope not,” Anrel said, looking her in the eye.

She smiled, threw her father a glance, then said, “I think I will have a few words with my parents while you see what you can do about Mistress li-Dargalleis.”

“And just how direct will these words be?”

“Oh, I will be most circumspect initially, and judge the weather carefully before risking any blunt questions. There will be no demands or threats, I promise you—nothing that might provoke open antagonism.”

“While you undoubtedly know your parents far better than I do, is anyone capable of such fine judgments?”

“Well—perhaps my promise is a trifle ambitious. Let us say rather that I will do my very best to avoid any unfortunate confrontations.”

He smiled at her. “I can ask no more.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Perynis demanded. She had been shut out of Reva's conversation with their parents, and had therefore turned her attention elsewhere.

“None of
your
concern, ninny!” Tazia replied.

“Plotting to assassinate the emperor and invade Ermetia, of course,” Anrel told her.

“Ha! Telling each other romantic little lies, more likely.”

“If you knew, then why did you ask?” Tazia retorted.

With that, the conversation became general once again, and a moment later Anrel made an excuse to slip away for a moment. He did not head for the privy, though; instead he made his way to the front room, where he found Dorrin Kabrig dozing by the door.

He started at the sound of Anrel's footsteps and sat up. “Master Adirane,” he said. “Going out?”

“No,” Anrel said. “But I would appreciate a word with you, Master Kabrig.”

The doorkeeper looked puzzled. “Oh?”

“Yes.”

“Then I am at your disposal, Master Adirane. How can I be of service?”

Anrel hesitated, trying to phrase his request well. “You are familiar with the town, I take it?”

“I have lived here all my life,” Dorrin replied. “I think I know it tolerably well.”

“I'm sure you do, then,” Anrel said. “I have heard that several of the delegates to the Grand Council have made themselves at home here, when their presence is not required in Lume; is that true?”

“Oh, yes. There are several fine homes in Beynos, maintained by various great families for themselves and their friends, and I believe that virtually all of them are currently let to councillors. Why do you ask?”

“It is a delicate matter; bear with me.”

“Of course.”

“Is one of those councillors Lord Allutar, the landgrave of Aulix?”

“So I have heard,” Dorrin answered, his eyes narrowing.

“Please, Master Kabrig, do not look so concerned! I assure you, I intend the landgrave no harm.” That phrasing was deliberate; Anrel most certainly
wished
that harm might befall Lord Allutar, but he did not at present
intend
any. “As a citizen of Aulix, I merely want to know something
of his present situation. I have heard some most peculiar rumors of late.”

“Rumors?”

“Indeed.”

“What sort of rumors?”

“Well—I told you it was a delicate matter.”

“You did.”

“I have heard rumors as to why Lord Allutar has not yet married and sired an heir. I would prefer to be no more specific.”

A slow, crooked smile spread across Dorrin's face; apparently he found something very appealing in the rumors he now imagined. “I
see
,” he said.

“Now, these may well be the most scurrilous sort of lies,” Anrel said hastily. “I do not for a moment present them as fact. But I do admit that my curiosity has gotten the better of me—is there some foundation for these tales?”

“I wouldn't know,” Dorrin said. “I hadn't heard anything of the sort.”

“But you know, perhaps, which house Lord Allutar is residing in?”

“Oh, yes—it's his own, in fact, built by his grandfather, Faurien Hezir. It's up on Bridge Street Hill.”