Challenges (19 page)

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Authors: Sharon Green

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic

BOOK: Challenges
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“The sinister part comes in when you realize that the coaches
weren’t
hidden somewhere close by,” Jovvi explained gently. “I remember that glass of water I was given to drink once I’d escaped, odd-tasting water that was very refreshing and gave me back a small amount of strength with regard to my talent. It’s funny, but I’ve never tasted water like that before or since, and never got my strength back simply by taking a drink.”

“Puredan!” Vallant blurted, finally having seen the point. “We weren’t given water, it was Puredan. No wonder a small amount of strength came back, and the coach seemed to get there in no time. We were full of that drug, so we had no idea how much time was passin’.”

The others interrupted to ask what Puredan was, so Jovvi explained while Vallant fumed. He’d been
drugged
, by damn, drugged like a criminal or slave! He’d been under the thumb of the testing authority all along without realizing it, thinking of himself as a free man when he was nothing of the sort!

“And we have no idea what they told us while we were under,” Jovvi finished her explanation with. “Any orders given us will be obeyed completely, and we won’t even know we’re obeying them. No wonder none of the ‘smart gold’ is being bet on a common Blending to win the competitions.”

“You know, I’ll bet that that was what was done to the final challenger for the Seated High position in the Earth magic competition,” Lorand said, a sense of revelation accompanying his anger. “I knew the man wasn’t drugged, but
something
kept him from using his full ability. I think we all know now what that something was.”

“But what we don’t know is how to get rid of it,” Tamrissa said, hot anger burning in her lovely eyes. “And we don’t know how any buried orders are keyed, but you can bet those miserable testing authority people do. No wonder that noble was so casual when he talked about claiming me. He’s the one who gave me the orders, so he has nothing at all to worry about.”

“And as if this weren’t enough, we also have that mystery confronting us,” Rion pointed out. “Twimmal had no idea that anyone else had come to instruct us about Blending, most especially not someone who did a better job of it than he. Without that so-called Lord Carmad, we’d still be struggling and floundering in an effort to make sense of what we were being told. Now we have to wonder who the man was, and why he made that effort to help us.”

“And also if he gave the same help to any of the other groups,” Jovvi added with a nod. “I can’t imagine us being singled out for special treatment, but the possibility still remains. It would be nice if there was a group working against the nobility and specifically in favor of the common groups, one that could tell us all the things the testing authority is holding back on. I hope ‘Lord Carmad’ does come back tomorrow.”

“If he does, it won’t be at the same time,” Tamrissa offered thoughtfully. “He would have come face to face with Twimmal if the fat little man’s carriage hadn’t broken down. He won’t be able to count on luck like that a second time, not to mention the fact that we now know he isn’t really from the testing authority. He’ll have to know that we’ll be asking questions about something other than Blending, and—Did anyone else notice that even he didn’t describe the actual process accurately?”

“Yes, and he didn’t even notice when we succeeded on the first try,” Lorand said while everyone nodded or murmured in agreement. “Doesn’t
anyone
know how this is really supposed to work?”

“How can they?” Vallant asked reasonably. “It’s against the law even for people to use their talents together. Cooperatin’ to the point of formin’ a Blendin’ means summary execution, and there hasn’t been an execution in—how many years?”

“More than twenty,” Rion supplied with a frown. “The law is one of the very few applied equally to the nobility as well as to commoners, and the last group executed was a noble one. They apparently paid quite a lot in gold to learn the process, bribing a minor official to research the matter in some obscure government records. The official disappeared as soon as he was paid, or he would have been executed as well. Which means we’ll have to ask ‘Lord Carmad’ how
he
found out.”

“I’ve always wondered why Blending is illegal for everyone but the Seated Five,” Tamrissa mused. “I’ve heard it claimed that only High talents can Blend, so an illegal Blending would require the Five to stop them if they began to run amok. Now that it’s just about certain the Seated Five were given their place rather than having to earn it, I’m not wondering any longer.”

“I’m not sure it’s only High talents who can Blend,” Jovvi put in, looking thoughtful. “It’s been reported more than once that places outside the empire have people who Blend all the time, and they’re not solely High talents. If it comes to a choice between believing our government and believing ordinary people who have actually visited other places, I’ll take the ordinary people.”

“It’s fairly clear we’re going to have to
hope
it’s true,” Lorand said, his words heavy and his gaze troubled. “If we don’t win the competitions, the empire will never allow us to stay together. We’ll have to go elsewhere if we want to do that, immediately and without giving them warning. If we don’t, we’ll never see each other again.”

“And they’ll never let us remember what we’re now learnin’,” Vallant added in agreement, suddenly just as troubled. “They won’t want people walkin’ around who know how to Blend, and who might be unhappy enough to pass on what they know. Either they’ll do somethin’ to make us forget, or…”

“Or they’ll kill us,” Jovvi finished calmly when he didn’t. “That’s been a very real possibility right from the beginning, starting with that first qualifying test. The idea of killing us doesn’t bother them in the least, and if they have no other use for us they won’t hesitate. It will be our job to see that they don’t get the chance to do anything at all.”

“Assuming we don’t find a way to win after all,” Lorand said in agreement after glancing toward the open door. “And it seems that our noble visitor’s carriage has arrived. He should be gone in another minute or two, which will leave us free to do more than talk.”

“I think we ought to wait until the middle of the night, when all the servants are asleep,” Tamrissa said as Vallant’s body began to tingle in anticipation of Blending again. “If there’s a problem or someone comes calling, they’ll have an excuse to walk in and see what we’re doing. That fat little man said we’re not supposed to practice without him, and if we do anyway the testing authority’s spy will certainly report us.”

“So we
had
best leave it for the middle of the night,” Rion said in support, sounding as disappointed as Vallant felt. “I’d hoped there would be no further delay, but this one is unavoidable.”

Arguing with the conclusion was impossible, especially when Weeks stopped in the doorway to announce that their visitor was finally gone. If they’d been doing more than just talking, the servant would certainly have noticed. But that left the rest of the day with nothing in particular to occupy them, so Vallant got up and ambled over to where Tamrissa now stood.

“This would be a nice time for a stroll through the garden,” he murmured to her. “The private corners out there are badly in need of inspectin’.”

“You’re forgetting that they don’t yet know we’ve Blended,” she murmured back, the steadiness of her voice saying she continued to touch the power. “Until we’re beyond the point where they can separate us, we have to keep on hating each other. After that, I’ll arrange everything.”

Vallant stood with brows high as she walked away after sending him a brief, businesslike smile. He reluctantly had to agree that the time wasn’t yet right, curse the luck, but as for the rest of it…
She
would arrange everything? Just exactly what sort of woman was she becoming? As if Vallant didn’t have enough to worry about…

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

Delin had just come back from the bath house and was dressing when a servant came to tell him that their expected visitor had arrived. He finished dressing in record time and went down to the sitting room, to find that only Kambil was there with their guest. Delin and Kambil had shared a late breakfast, but late or not, the others still hadn’t come down.

“Ah, Delin, come and meet our mentor,” Kambil said warmly as Delin entered the room. “Lord Idian Vomak, this is Lord Delin Moord, Earth magic.”

“A pleasure, Lord Delin,” Idian Vomak said with a smile. “Do pour yourself a cup of tea and join us.”

Delin returned Lord Idian’s smile and turned toward the tea service, but some of his excited eagerness had dimmed. Idian was rather an old man, with a seamed face, wrinkled hands, and streaked gray hair. He also appeared to be rather small in stature, but not small in the least where ego was concerned. Telling Delin to get a cup of tea in what was essentially his own home was overbearingly intrusive to say the least, and the worst sort of intrusion: fatherly. If there was one thing Delin couldn’t abide, it was…

“We’ll begin as soon as the rest of your group gets here,” Lord Idian went on, his tone warm and encouraging—and somehow not quite real. “I can see I should have sent word ahead as to what time I would be arriving, but it simply didn’t occur to me. Tomorrow you’ll know, so there won’t be anything of a delay.”

“Lord Idian tells me he expected Rigos to come along and introduce him,” Kambil put in as Delin turned away from the service with a cup of tea in his hands. “Rigos, however, sent word that he was unavoidably detained, and would join Lord Idian tomorrow instead. When you arrived, I was in the process of wondering aloud if that scene with Bron might have had anything to do with Rigos’s lack of attendance.”

“That’s an excellent question and possibly a very accurate surmise,” Delin agreed, pleasantly surprised at the way Kambil had taken the opportunity to damage Rigos’s reputation a bit more. “I don’t mind saying I’m relieved the man isn’t here, and apparently Bron and I aren’t the only ones to feel that way. I went out to dinner last night and ran into some of the members of the other groups, and the majority of them feel exactly the same.”

“Rather unfortunate in view of the man’s innocence,” Lord Idian commented with a sad headshake. “I was present during his questioning under Puredan, and there can’t be any doubt. One simply doesn’t lie with Puredan doing its work.”

“But that’s assuming the Puredan
was
doing its work,” Delin said, repeating the idea he’d passed on the night before. “Everyone knows how powerful and wealthy Rigos’s father is, a combination that might well have managed to substitute water for Puredan. Since no one else drank the liquid, how are we to know?”

“I’ll admit I hadn’t thought of that,” Lord Idian granted with a frown, his sharp blue eyes appearing troubled. “It makes a significant difference, and even casts doubt on the testimony of that Earth magic practitioner who claimed Rigos spoke the truth. Oh, dear. This will surely complicate matters even more.”

“Complicate them in what way?” Kambil asked, to Delin’s eye innocently curious. “Is it likely to affect our efforts at Blending?”

“Oh, no, the matter of complication lies elsewhere,” Lord Idian replied with a chuckle, faint amusement which quickly left him. “In point of fact it lies with Ollon Kapmar, the late Elfini’s brother. He’s been positively haunted and driven since her death, and when Rigos was cleared he was very … disturbed. It wasn’t possible to argue the exoneration, and yet that left no one who might be accused of the crime. Now…”

“Now the exoneration is less certain, so Lord Ollon might well become … agitated again,” Kambil said with a nod, completing the thought. “It
is
unlikely the matter will affect those of us meant to compete, at least directly. Indirectly, however … it would be pleasant to have an Advisory agent who isn’t likely to be snatched away from us again—or apt to have a public breakdown.”

“You’re referring, of course, to Lord Hiblit,” Idian said with his own nod. “I wasn’t present that night, but I’m told the scene was extremely disturbing. I’ve also heard that Hiblit’s father is suffering socially, for being so heavy-handed with the boy that Hiblit lost all control. When these things become public, it’s usually because the parent involved hadn’t been sufficiently discreet.”

“You know, a strange thought just occurred to me,” Delin said slowly, drawing the attention of the others. “Hiblit was definitely odd when he first introduced himself, but he certainly didn’t seem unstable. Just how long before that … scene was Rigos released from custody?”

“Why, it was only that morning,” Idian replied with a frown. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Delin admitted openly, a lie Idian certainly wasn’t seeing behind. “It just seems strange that Rigos is released in the morning, and that evening his old position is suddenly vacated. I have no idea how something like that could be managed, but isn’t it said that enough gold can buy anything anyone might want?”

Idian stared at him without saying anything, but the deep disturbance in the man’s eyes was a clear enough message. Delin had now managed to implicate Rigos in Hiblit’s breakdown, a suggestion that would certainly begin to circulate. If the idea spread widely enough, they might be rid of the man much sooner than they could have hoped.

“Ah, here’s the rest of your group,” Idian said as he looked up, deliberately throwing off the dark mood. “Now we can begin.”

“Before breakfast?” Selendi demanded, her usual surliness blurred by her not being completely awake. She and Homin and Bron stood in the doorway, all of them wearing wraps and looking half asleep. “I can’t possibly do anything at all before breakfast.”

“And neither can I,” Bron agreed sourly, both of them ignoring—or not noticing—the way Homin had begun to step forward without argument. “Getting a man up this early is bad enough. Expecting him to function properly is completely unreasonable. We’ll just step into the dining room and—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Idian denied, the sudden steel in his voice turning him into a different person entirely. “You’ll come in here and do as you’re told, and tomorrow you will be fully dressed and waiting when I arrive. Appearing in nothing but wraps is inexcusable, an insult I refuse to tolerate. If you were taught nothing of proper manners until now, it’s more than time that you learned.”

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