Eyes of the Alchemist (22 page)

“Did you kill Rowena with your own hands, Lord?”

He turned restlessly. “No, I could not. The troopers drew straws under the code of silence. She was persuaded to forfeit her life by her own hand. It was painless.”

“And you think that absolves you of the responsibility?”

“It’s not a question of responsibility but of Cabrilan law. I must put my quest above all others.”

“Including me?”

“One life is unimportant when the future of the many is at stake. Even mine.”

Sick at heart she closed the contact. She had her answer. There was nothing more she needed to know.

Sliding from the bed she snatched her bridal gown from the floor and pulled it over her head before quickly braiding her hair. The guard at the door was a man she’d cured of a broken arm in the market place. Susceptible to mesmer, he would not remember her passing by.

Drawing on her ever-growing magic powers she melted through the walls of the manor. Even with Kavan’s cloak around her shoulders the cold seeped through her bones. She shivered. She’d make good use of the wishing dish once she reached the alchemist’s tomb.

The village was as quiet as the grave and the sky had a line of pale light on the horizon. As the yester had darkened gradually, so the day would lighten in the reverse.

Truarc, she noticed, had moved marginally closer during the night. The silver convergence line could no longer be seen. Instead, a line of blackness stretched between them. She’d seen it before, but when?

She was nearing the lake when she saw the swirl of dust and remembered. The portal had opened. Holding her breath she moved behind a shrub. Shadows moved in stealthy silence from the portal, amongst them the low shape of a Pitilan.

She gasped, she couldn’t help it.

Immediately, a hand grasped her by the braid and dragged her out. “Of all the luck, it’s Kavan’s woman, though what she’s doing abroad at this hour without a guard is anyone’s guess.”

This was a face she recognized
.

“When this is over I might find time for a little sport with her.”

“What you suggest is outrageous,” another voice said. “Tiana is the daughter of
The High One
and a virgin of the temple. She must be treated with respect.”

Truarc men, she thought with a tremor of shock. How pompous they sounded after the rough camaraderie of Kavan’s troopers. But this trooper sounded too self-conscious to be anything but inexperienced himself.

He hooted with laughter, like a child showing off for his companions. “If I know Kavan, her virginity will be long gone . . . and you seem to forget,
The High One
is only the titular head now. It is I who sets the rules.”

“You represent Lord Kavan on Truarc,” she scorned, instinct telling her the trooper would not harm her. Despite his bluster, there was something likeable about him. Up close he was personable . . . and slightly familiar. Her mind sent her the information she needed. “Your disrespect towards me comes as a surprise.”

He tugged her closer and stared down at her. “I have heard rumors on Truarc. What do you know of my father and his death?”

“We did not come through the portal for personal revenge,” one of the Truarc with him protested. “We came as envoy to present a petition to Lord Kavan.”

The sky was lightening around them. She engaged the trooper’s eyes – fine eyes, though his mouth had a petulant curve. His form was of immeasurable grace and beauty. “I have no knowledge of who sired you, Javros.”

“You remember my name?”

“Of course – and your bravery in the temple when you offered to sacrifice yourself to the Pitilan on your lord’s behalf.”

 Javros looked troubled. “That was the day you pleaded my case and Kavan staked his claim on you.”

“My union with Kavan was written. But come, you haven’t told me who sired you.”

“Vandrew, my lord’s chief adviser.”

 She had no knowledge of the death, but felt compelled to defend Kavan. “If your father died at Lord Kavan’s bidding it would have been for good reason.” Remembering Rowena, she said with less certainty. “There has been an uprising by the forces of Beltane.”

His eyes narrowed in thought. “The augur did not advise me of any uprising, only that Vandrew died at Lord Kavan’s command. Yet he sent no advisement of this to me.”

“You still call Kavan Lord. Perhaps I should inform you that the followers of Beltane left him chained in one of the ancients blow holes to be drained of blood by the dragon bats. If your father had a hand in the treasonable act then the reason for his death will be clear to you.”

“I must defend and avenge his name.”

 “Think further, Javros. This could be a case of opposing loyalties and it might be the reason Kavan kept it from you. Are you confident of your ability to engage him in deadly combat?”

Javros gazed down at the Pitilan with troubled eyes. “I know not what to think, for truly, I cannot imagine my father would involve himself with the followers, or commit such a desperate act. I brought the beast only as a show of protection.”

“It’s my sire’s Pitilan and the only one left alive,” she said gently. “You know not its commands. They are bred only for defense and it will turn on you if you attempt to control it for your own evil.”

“It was a foolish and cowardly gesture to bring it when your sire ordered me to take it to the kennel master for destruction,” he said with a show of shame.

When she clicked her fingers the beast came to heel beside her. “Release my hair Javros. Go back to Truarc until you’re summoned. I’ll not speak a word of this to Lord Kavan.”

Javros raised the braid to his lips. “My thanks for your counsel, Lady. I’ll be your slave for life.”

They froze when Kavan appeared in front of them, puffed up with arrogance and menace. “Would you betray me also, woman?” he roared. His sword sliced between them and her head jerked free.

 Seized by a trooper and looking white-faced and miserable Javros stared at the long braid still gripped in his fist. Inconsequentially, he said, and it sounded like censure. “I would not have harmed a hair on your lady’s head.”

“That’s what makes me the leader and you the follower. Her hair is no great loss and it’s a fitting indignity to wear it thus for a woman who betrays her true husband.”

 She took a deep breath and braved his anger. “Javros admitted he was misguided and he’s truly repentant. He would have done you no harm.”

Kavan’s look flayed her nerves to shreds. “So, woman, you plead his case a second time.” He nodded to the trooper and Javros was hustled away. The tip of his sword touched against her throat. “Give the command.”

She knew to what he referred. She could order the Pitilan to rip out his throat, and he knew that too, but not before he had time to decapitate her. She obeyed his order. Soon, the Pitilan was writhing in its death throes. When it was almost dead he sliced off its head with one stroke. She shuddered. His sword was kept finely honed.

Kavan jerked his head towards the portal. “You Truarc, return from whence you came. There is no time for petitions. Tell
The High One
the edge towns must be evacuated of people immediately. Now the portal is open I’ll send a squad of Cabrilan troopers to enforce my order.

He waited until they’d gone then gazed down at her, his eyes glittering and merciless. “So this is how you repay my forbearance and kindness to you. Before this day is through you’ll learn what having a master means. Follow me back to the manor. A public beating will bring you to heel.” He strode away, all bristling male affront, and giving every indication he expected her to obey.

Public beating! She would rather die than be humiliated in that way. She was only a few steps from the lake. Picking up her skirts she sprinted towards it. She noticed the sand had reshaped into rock again. Kavan had created an illusion to trick her into going down to him. He’d led her to believe he cared for her, when all he’d wanted was to have her in his bed and plant his seed into her womb. She would not even think about it . . .
she would not!

Scaling the rocky slope was easy, though she knew every foothold. The fall poured over the top with increased vigor, creating an icy draught that made her cloak billow. Thank Assinti for Kavan’s arrogance. He was too used to being obeyed to bother to look back. She was scrambling along the rocky ledge when he noticed she’d gone.

“Tiana!”

Her name echoed off every rock in a fury of sound. Birds rose in fright from the trees and the ground seemed to quake. She crawled under the fall into the cave, picked up her sack and retreated to the rear, gripping it against her chest and shaking with nervous tension.

Gradually, it dawned on her. She needn’t have been frightened of Kavan’s wrath. He might be angered but he’d never hurt her. All the same, he needed to be taught a lesson. She would not allow him to intimidate her. He could apologize before she’d go to him again.

After a while she began to shiver. She needed warmer clothing. Misery crept into her chest when she slid her hand into her bag. Her fingers had just closed around the wishing dish when it disappeared. Drawing her knees up to her chest she ran her fingers over her mutilated hair and began to weep quiet tears of despair.

“Crying is not going to help,” she muttered, and dashing the tears away she stood up. She’d call on Santo for advice.

But it was not Santo who came it was the spirit of the alchemist. “I thought you’d gone to Kavan.” he grumbled.

“Where’s Santo? I need his help.”

“He’s performing some tasks I’ve set him, and I’ve got better things to do. Leave my tomb. Go back down to the manor, where you belong.”

Behind him was the body of the alchemist. The spirit was nothing like the original body, which was a thousand times more dignified in both appearance and mien. If it wasn’t for the opaline eyes . . .? She gazed at a dent in the cushion. It was if someone had once sat at his feet . . . and that someone could have plucked the eyes from the body. The stray and elusive thought she'd lost earlier, surfaced and strengthened. Nerves prickled down her spine. “A spirit doesn’t need eyes to see,” she exclaimed. “You’re not the alchemist. Who are you?”

Her companion hissed in annoyance. “I’m Finn, the apprentice who was entombed with him.” He waved a hand at the alchemist. “I sat on that cushion for thousands of years gazing up at the master in adoration. Gradually, I worked a spell. His eyes fell into my lap, thus I was able to trap him in another dimension and live again. It was not easy, especially when Kavan was nosing about. I had to split myself in two, not a comfortable task.”

“It wouldn’t be easy to fool Kavan.”

“You were easy to fool, my dear. I enjoyed our little meetings.”

She recalled the verse and cried out. “You have the eyes. You must give them to Kavan so he can save the people from destruction.”

“And lose my own life in the process?” He cackled with laughter. “I’m safe in the chimera world. No one can touch me.”

“Not when I tell Kavan. He’ll find a way to go after you.”

“He daren’t come here on pain of death, and the alchemist’s enigma is one he’ll never solve.”

“I’ve solved it.” Everything Finn did had a motive. He was little more than a magician from what she’d seen, though a powerful one. The true alchemist would never have lost his dignity by creating butterflies, birds and thunderbolts . . . he would have used his talents for the good of the people.

 Santo had the high sense and would eventually see through the usurper. Alarm triggered in her when she thought of her ward in the clutches of Finn.  “What purpose do you have in mind for Santo?”

Finn gave a sly smile. “My body is that of an old man now. In his skin I can leave this place and journey to other worlds – his power when combined with mine will make me ruler of all I desire.”

“You have no power without him – only flim-flam and sleight of hand. When Kavan finds out he’ll stop you.”

“When Kavan finds out – when Kavan finds out,”
he mimicked. “You won’t survive to tell him, and if he discovers the courage to try and rescue you I’ll leave him a few surprises.” His bells jingled as he slanted his head to one side. “Hmmm . . . let’s see if
you
like being imprisoned alive. He cackled with laughter and pointed his finger at the fall. Its flow became sluggish and hardened into a thick sheet of ice. Finn disappeared in a showy sparkle of light.

She tried to establish a mind connection with Kavan, but his anger blocked her entry. Wrapping her arms around her body she began to shiver.  

* * * *

Once Kavan had calmed down he was able to think more rationally. Tiana had fled his bed for a purpose other than the physical – that she’d enjoyed. But what else could it be?

He thought back, lingering on the loving until he began to react in too positive a way for one without a remedy. He recalled that, just as he’d fallen into sleep, she’d asked about his mother. His brow knit. He hadn’t lied to her, yet . . .? That was it! She’d stolen into his mind that night, asked him questions. He’d been too sure of her, had left his sub-state vulnerable to access. Violence was alien to her nature – he had exposed his inner self and she was frightened of him now.

Hmmm! Perhaps pardoning Javros would go some way towards appeasing her. Under questioning the lad had revealed he’d come to confront, not to assassinate. His need to show his mettle had led him to bring the Pitilan, knowing it wouldn’t perform to his command.

Already Javros’s mother was petitioning for his life. She was a Truarc, connected to the ruling class. She was a strong woman who’d pledged the child she was carrying to Tiana’s service to appease him. He’d spared them as he’d promised Vandrew, but the transgression of Javros was hard to forgive.

He summoned Torma to his side. “Your advice, my friend.”

“Javros?”

Kavan nodded.

“He’s basked too much in his mother’s admiration. Demote him to the ranks and send him to the northern patrol for remedial training. They’ll soon make a man of him.”