Binding Spell (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms) (21 page)

Unlike Ulias’ spells, which always seemed to shine in my mind like pure, molten silver, Maldis’ evil magic glowed dull red, like old blood. I could barely see it with that strange inward eye, only enough to sense that it somehow stretched out and away from the castle, moving almost due east.

Due east…

Toward Farendon, and, I supposed, the king’s unsuspecting daughter.

My own breath coming in great gasps, I saw in my mind then a pale, pretty girl a few years younger than I, with wide dark eyes and soft, fawn-colored curls. And I saw her descending a staircase of dark green marble, polished, gleaming. And her foot slipped, and she fell, tumbling, as voices cried out around her, and she rolled, over and over, petticoats showing like white foam beneath her blue skirts, until at last she came to rest on a landing, neck at an angle that told anyone watching that it was broken. Those dark eyes stared, glassy and blank, at the ceiling, even as her poor broken body was surrounding by a crowd of wailing attendants.

Choking back tears, my breath strangling in my throat, I tried to follow the darkly gleaming trail of magic back to its black source. Almost before I began I felt cold start to wash around me, as if Maldis had thrown out his own nets to catch whoever dared to track down the person who had cast that foul spell.

And then Ulias’ voice in my mind.
Stop now, Lark! Before he discovers you!

My eyes fluttered open at once. Almost like snipping an embroidery thread, I cut off the part of my mind that had been following Maldis’ magic. It hurt, as if I had ripped away a piece of my own flesh, but I knew better than to ignore Ulias’ warning. Thank God he had been able to reach me.

And the black tide of magic flowed away, disappearing to whence it had come. Tresi’s breathing quieted, but she looked up at me, dark kohl-circled eyes worried.

I knelt beside her, buried my ice-cold fingers in her warm, thick fur. Her presence reassured me a little, although I knew it had been a close call.

That was not the worst of it, though. I knew now what evil Maldis had just carried out.

The only thing I didn’t know was whether my husband had anything to do with it.

W
hen Kadar came
to escort me down to dinner, I had more or less recovered my composure — mostly because I knew I had little choice but to maintain as calm an appearance as possible. Maldis could have guessed everything, or nothing. I would not give him any additional ammunition. And although I had tried to reach Ulias, stretching my thoughts out to where he waited in his cellar prison, he did not reply. This did not improve my mood, even though I tried to tell myself that he was only staying quiet so there would be no risk of Maldis learning of our secret communications.

The Mark looked even grimmer than I felt, his mouth tight and his jaw set. He answered my half-hearted questions about his day with short, noncommittal answers, and said only, “Let us go.”

I nodded meekly, knowing better than to spar with him when he was in such a mood. As we descended to the dining hall, I could not help wondering if his current black state was because Maldis’ evil spell had succeeded, and the Mark was now having second thoughts.

There was no way to ask, of course. And I was not sure what to think when I saw Maldis seated already in his customary place at the high table, although he did rise with the rest of the company as Kadar and I mounted the dais and took our regular seats.

There was also no way for me to scrutinize the dark mage for any signs of weariness, to discover if his spell-casting had taken its toll as such things usually did on me. At least there was little chance of Maldis misbehaving here, in front of the company; he was seated between Baron Trennhelm on one side and the mayor of Tarenmar on the other, and as neither of them were the sort to awake lecherous thoughts, I thought little harm would come from his presence. Indeed, better that we should sit at the same table. At least that way I could keep an eye on him.

I also noted that the prettier of the serving girls had been assigned to the other tables, and I murmured a silent thanks to Althan for implementing my recommendations so speedily. Again, not that Maldis probably would have done much in sight of everyone present, but better that they should not even come close enough to invite his interest.

We ate in silence for the most part, although Kadar did engage in a lengthy conversation with Lord Niel on his left, something about planning a hunting expedition for the next day if the weather cleared enough. I did not much care for the idea of Kadar venturing forth on such an outing, especially since I guessed Maldis probably would not accompany the group, not being much of one for exercise. However, because of the anger I sensed running just under the surface of Kadar’s brittle good humor, I guessed that protesting the expedition would only serve to irritate him further.

No, I would just have to thank my stars that at least Maldis generally stayed far away from any of my haunts in the castle, so it would be easy enough to avoid him. Even so, I found myself praying that the storms would return on the morrow, and that bad weather would keep the men inside. Kadar would grumble and fuss, but I found as time went on that I didn’t mind so much.

And even as I sat there, mind thrumming with the aftereffects of that hideous spell, I found myself trying to make sense of it, to come up with some way to absolve Kadar, to tell myself he must be innocent of this, that he would never stoop to the murder of an innocent. Foolish, I know, but one never wants to think the worst of those one holds dear. Despite everything, I found myself craving the sound of his voice, the brilliance of his smile. How I could want so much of him, and yet hate what he was doing with Maldis? Truly, the heart was a very unruly organ.

At last the meal was over, and Kadar stood, giving the signal for all in attendance that it was time to retire to their various chambers. This was no feast day, only a simple evening meal, and so there would be no dancing or music or players performing pantomimes. I stood as well, smiling and nodding as my position required, while the lords and ladies bowed and went on their way and the servants began clearing away the tables.

Usually Kadar would accompany me upstairs at this point in the evening, but now he touched my arm and said, “I would have conversation with Maldis before I come to our chambers. Do you mind making your way alone, just this once?”

“Not at all,” I replied, although of course my thoughts began racing, wondering what he had to say to his advisor that could not wait until morning. And truly, by “alone” he meant only without him, for as always Beranne waited for us near the door. It was her duty to make sure we had everything we needed before we retired for the night, although most of the time those needs had been attended to before we even headed back upstairs. “I will see you shortly?” I asked Kadar.

Just the smallest of pauses, so small I almost wouldn’t have noticed it, except that I had grown accustomed to his moods and manners over the past month or so. “Yes, of course.”

And he lifted my hand to his lips to take his leave — a simple gesture of courtesy, but a shiver ran up my arm as his mouth touched my flesh, and I felt his breath warm against my skin. Of late I had begun to wish for something far more than that, but I knew that to increase our intimacy was only to invite disaster.

I smiled at him, and turned and went to Beranne, but I had no intention of meekly returning to my apartments, not when I had a chance of finally learning something of what he and Maldis were plotting. She followed along behind me as I left the dining hall, but then I turned a corner and halted, and she almost walked into me.

“My lady!” she gasped. “You did give me a turn. But why are we stopping here?”

“Because I want to do a little spying,” I told her calmly, and tried not to grin at her obvious discomfiture.

“My lady — ”

“Oh, do hush, Beranne. I need to listen.”

Her eyes widened, but she did fall silent. Her expression, however, seemed to indicate that she thought I had taken leave of my senses.

Actually, I was doing just the opposite — or at least sharpening the one I needed at the moment. Ulias had taught me the listening spell only a few days earlier, and I was surprised at how simple it really was, no more difficult than the little cantrips I used to locate lost objects or unlock a door. In truth, I wondered why my father had not taught it to me, as he had taught me so many other of the minor magics…until I realized that perhaps a parent would not wish to have a child who could listen in on private conversations.

When I mentioned this to Ulias, he had smiled and told me, “This is why parents were advised never to teach their own children, even in instances when the power did not skip a generation or two. It is difficult to subject one’s own child to the sort of rigorous effort required for the true study of magic…and it is also difficult to be objective, to teach everything, even if it might be a little inconvenient.”

Inconvenient
. That was one way of looking at it. At the time I was only irritated that my father had withheld information from me, but now I was simply glad that Ulias had taught me the trick.

“Tell me if anyone is coming, but otherwise do not speak,” I told Beranne, and she nodded.

“Yes, my lady.”

I shut my eyes then, listening to the various voices within the hall — the light, sweet tones of the maids as they cleared away the last of the dishes, Althan’s deep, smooth baritone. And then the tread of two pairs of feet, one heavier, but brisk, and the other almost undetectable, but keeping pace with the first. I knew those footsteps belonged to Kadar and Maldis.

They moved off in the opposite direction from where I stood, going to a place where the corridor dead-ended in a little alcove with an arched window that afforded a fine view of the lake. I guessed, however, that was not why they went there. That corridor saw little traffic, and of course no one would be going to look at the view after sunset.

It was there that the two men stopped. Kadar spoke first, his voice tightly controlled, low, but no less furious for all that.

“I told you not to do anything this drastic.”

Maldis sounded singularly unruffled. “My lord, you wanted the marriage stopped, did you not?”

“Yes, but — ”

“Well, there is certainly no chance of it happening now, is there?”

A silence. I wished then that I could see them in addition to hearing them, but this spell was not the far-seeing. I could only attend their words and try to fill in the missing pieces later.

Then Kadar spoke, his tone still taut, angry. “All I requested was that she be made unsuitable for an Imperial marriage. A dalliance with her dancing master, a liaison with a penniless second son — there are so many things that could have prevented the match. Torric Deveras is a proud man, even for an emperor of Sirlende. He would not have stooped to marry a girl so sullied, even if she were a princess of Farendon.”

“But there would have been a chance.”

“Perhaps, but — ”

“But nothing, my lord.” Maldis’ mild tone turned silky, the words meant to persuade, to calm. “It would have been a constant fear, would it not? And now that fear is ended.”

“As is that poor girl. Eighteen, Maldis! She was only eighteen. I cannot bear to think that I have her blood on my hands.”

“But you do not, my lord.” A pause. “
I
do.”

So he had not known, or commanded that vile act. Not that causing an honorable girl’s reputation to be sullied was something to dismiss lightly, but of course such a deed paled beside cold-blooded murder. The relief that washed over me was almost equally touched with guilt, for I knew I should not be allowing myself to feel this happy, not when a young woman had been killed in such a foul way.

Next to me I could hear Beranne shift and make a worried noise low in her throat. Perhaps I had let out a sigh, or betrayed my roiling thoughts in some other fashion, but I could not let my concentration slip any further.

It wasn’t quite a growl, but the sound Kadar made next was very close to one. “You may have secured the North’s safety…for now…but the cost is far too high. The thing is done, and we must live with it. For now, though, leave me. I do not wish to look on you any more this evening.”

“My lord.” Maldis’ reply was neutral enough, but I thought I heard underneath it a curl of amusement, as if he found it laughable that Kadar had ordered him away.

Be careful, my love
, I thought.
For this creature is not your servant, and will only pretend to be one until the pretense serves him no longer.

And then those soft footsteps made their way back down the corridor and off in the direction of the castle’s main entrance. No doubt Maldis had decided to return to whatever shack or other dwelling housed his latest victim. I could not hold out any hope that that hapless mage-born soul still lived; the death-spell must have taken every ounce of power their blood possessed.

It seemed that Kadar lingered there in the alcove for a moment or two more before he strode forth, obviously heading toward our tower apartments. I broke the spell then, knowing I must return there as well, and before the Mark arrived, or he would most certainly question me as to where I had been this past quarter-hour.

“Quick, Beranne!” I gasped. “I must get to my suite immediately. Is there any way besides the main stair?”

She raised an eyebrow, but, apparently recognizing the urgency in my tone, said, “There is a second way, up the small staircase the servants use.”

“Show me.”

There were no questions or words of protest. She merely nodded and led me down the hallway to another narrower corridor, one that terminated in a narrow stairway barely lit by one or two mean little sconces. It did not look at all appealing, but I knew I had little choice. “You may go first,” I said, figuring that it would be safer to follow her, since she most likely was far more familiar with the treacherous little staircase.

A nod, and then she began the ascent as I trailed behind her, putting a hand out to either side so I might let the cold stone help guide me upward. As we moved up the stairs, I tried not to think of time passing, made myself pray that this truly was a more direct route. And perhaps Kadar would pause on the way to our rooms to speak to a courtier, or to Althan, so that his arrival might be more delayed.