Firewalk (44 page)

“I do not understand,” Kayli said desperately. “High Priestess Brisi told me Randon would be tended.”

“He has been attended to, there is no denying it,” Vayavara said with a touch of irony. “And, as Brisi said, he sleeps. Indeed, he will continue to sleep until he is awakened—or until he is beyond all waking.”

This time Kayli could hardly swallow her fear and rage.

“Tell me what you wish to say,” she said slowly. “Play no games with your hints and implications. I am in no position to match myself against you, as well you know.”

Vayavara gazed narrowly at Kayli, then nodded slowly.

“Come back to my room,” she said. “Within the wards we may speak freely.”

“But Randon,” Kayli protested.

“He will stay where he is, as he is,” Vayavara said indifferently. “At this moment he is in no danger.”

Reluctantly Kayli followed the priestess, but she carefully noted the route back to the small cell. This time she sat with less hesitation when Vayavara took her own place on the mat.

“High Priestess Brisi knew of your marriage to the Agrondish lord before any message ever reached her,” Vayavara told her. “Did you never question why?”

“She said that the temples listened to rumors of important events,” Kayli said slowly. “Or perhaps she foresaw it.”

“You know nothing,” Vayavara said contemptuously. “It was Brisi herself who suggested the marriage to High Lord Elaasar. Do you believe that the Orders are merely a training ground for young mages? Not so. Warriors are the arrows of Bregond, but we are the hand that pulls the bow. The High Lord is the mouth of Bregond, but we are the will that speaks through that mouth. Are you truly naive enough to believe otherwise?”

Kayli said nothing, too stunned to make any argument.

“Always the Orders have been a silent power,” Vayavara told her. “We healed the sick, brought the rain, stopped the great grass fires, and more—but most of all, we assured our people of their safety, a sheathed sword to be drawn in time of need. The Sarkondish raids were a reminder that we would always be needed. But now, with this scheme to ally Bregond with Agrond, that sword seemed soon to be broken.”

“Why do you speak of Sarkond?” Kayli asked, forcing out the words from a mouth gone suddenly dry.

“Do not be a child,” Vayavara said impatiently. “Ask yourself this: What would become of the Orders if Agrond and Bregond became one?”

It took all of Kayli’s self-discipline even to consider the question when her heart still gazed into that small room at the sleeping form of her husband. But Vayavara’s words roused her curiosity. What would happen, indeed? With no further threat from Agrond, with Agrond’s troops allied with theirs to repel Sarkondish raiders, perhaps make a decisive strike against Sarkond itself, the great battle magics of the Orders would become useless. As the borders opened and trade increased—well, what matter if the rain did not come, when grain could be purchased in abundance from Agrond? Who needed the earth magics to guide the herds to good grazing when lush pasturage lay just across the border?

And there were so few mages in Agrond, the magical strain must run thin in their blood. When Bregonds and Agronds intermarried, as surely they would, there would be fewer mages born. And each year the Orders would grow smaller and fewer.

But what if the High Lords of both countries made such an alliance, threatening the power of the Orders? How could the Orders protect themselves without at the same time showing the sword that had, until then, remained sheathed?

Kayli felt the blood drain from her face.

“Are you telling me,” she said hoarsely, “that the Orders allied with Sarkond from the beginning? Caused the raids, the killing, the enslavement?”

“‘Caused’ is too strong a word,” Vayavara said calmly. “‘Encouraged’ would be a better choice. But when your father thought to ally with Agrond, encouragement was no longer enough. Terendal had a bastard son groomed to take his place. This son disapproved of the alliance, but his ambition outgrew his disapproval. If his word to carry on his father’s plans was required to secure his position, he would give it—and unfortunately he would keep it. But Terendal had a younger son, unmarried, less favored. If this son was chosen as Heir, the people would reject him, especially if he took a Bregondish wife. And when he was removed from power, the elder brother would take the throne, and all would be as it was before.”

“But why take such a chance?” Kayli asked warily. “There was no certainty that Randon would be deposed.”

Vayavara gave her a pitying glance.

“There was never any risk,” she said. “Lord Randon could not be confirmed as High Lord unless his wife bore an heir. And a novice who trusted her mentor would never guess that the ‘fertility potion’ she drank would in fact prevent conception.”

“You must be wrong,” Kayli said, clenching her hands hard to stop their shaking. “Why would High Priestess Brisi give me the very spell to negate such a potion?”

“She gave you the grimoires to study,” Vayavara corrected, “to keep you loyal to her, and because she had plans for you to take her place in the temple. No, you would be assumed barren and set aside as Randon’s wife. Terralt would use that opportunity to have Randon removed from power, and Brisi’s goals would be accomplished with no open intervention.

“Unfortunately you and your lord did not oblige her,” Vayavara continued. “You were gaining in popularity, both of you. It seemed possible that you might remain on the throne long enough to suspect that your failure to conceive was, in fact, no failure of yours. So additional measures were taken.”

A shock ran through Kayli’s body.

“You cannot mean for me to believe that my High Priestess had me poisoned,” she whispered. “After what you have said, how can I believe she wished me dead?”

Vayavara laughed coldly.

“How innocent you are. I have told you that Brisi took no risks. When she can manipulate you into taking your own poisoner into your household, it is simple to arrange for that poisoner to know—and administer—the remedy. One simple move accomplished much.
Arrabia
is a Sarkondish poison, so suspicion would naturally fall upon that country or its agents. And it is a slow poison. By the time it took effect, your lord’s closet supporters would seem the most likely suspects, causing a schism between him and them. The slowness of the
arrabia
would allow time for the cure to be given. And, of course, one effect of
arrabia
poisoning is lasting barrenness.”

Kayli gasped as if struck. How could she not have seen it? That a Bregondish slave child should escape her master and stumble into Kayli’s very path, that she should be familiar with the temples and their rituals, all the better to secure a position close to Kayli—it should have been obvious. But Seba was the very picture of an innocent victim.

And how ironic that of the maids Kayli had loved so dearly, only Seba had survived to escape the raid that—

—the raid that—

“No,” Kayli whispered. “Oh, by the Flame, no.”

“You begin to see,” Vayavara said grimly. “You and your lord had been confirmed rulers of Agrond. You had conceived his child. Even Terralt’s supporters were warming to you. There remained only one way to avert the alliance.”

Kayli covered her eyes with her hands as if by doing so she could hide from her sight the horror of the truth. It would be simple. A short message to Sarkond would suffice. Raiders frequently captured Bregondish clothing, weapons, and horses. And raiders dressed in Bregondish garb could travel through Bregond without detection, easily eluding border patrols to complete their deadly task.

But how could Brisi be certain that Kayli would be spared? Had the High Priestess consented to sacrifice her at last? Kayli groaned and shook her head. Again, there was no risk. Brisi could fire-scry, know exactly what transpired. Kayli and Randon had assumed that the grass fire was set by the Sarkondish to finish any survivors, but why should the Sarkondish set a fire to burn into Bregond when they thought their quarry had fled into Agrond? No. Fire was Brisi’s element, and if she could start it, she could stop it. That fire would ensure that no raiders would pursue the pupil she wished left alive.

“But why?” Kayli whispered. “Why is it so important that I live?”

In response, Vayavara only shrugged.

“You were Brisi’s pupil and malleable to her will. One day she would see you placed on the throne of Bregond, where you would serve the interests of the Order. Even your child, after you conceived, served her purpose, for a child conceived by so powerful a ritual would surely be touched by the Flame, and would come to this Order to study—would come under Brisi’s influence, just as you did.”

Kayli was numb now, incapable of even surprise at Vayavara’s words. Two thoughts circled endlessly in her mind.
I should have known. 1 should have known.
And:
My father. My mother. My sisters.

Then another thought pushed its way to the surface, almost unwelcome:
Randon.

“Why have you told me this?” Kayli asked slowly. “What do you want from me?”

“I offer you two things, besides the information I have already given,” Vayavara told her. “I will wake your lord, and I will set the two of you free of this place.”

“A Gate?” Kayli asked.

Vayavara shook her head.

“Such powerful fire magic as a Gate I could not conceal from Brisi. I can give you horses, money, food. There will be other aid when you have left these walls.”

“And in return?” Kayli pressed.

“You know the answer to that.” Vayavara’s eyes bored into Kayli’s. “If it lies within your power, set me in Brisi’s place. My skill is second only to hers in this Order.”

“Why?” Kayli asked softly. “Why betray your High Priestess, why help me? And do not tell me it is loyalty to your country, for I do not think even you believe that.”

Vayavara’s eyes narrowed.

“I was second only to Brisi,” she said coldly. “But it was you she chose to succeed her, and that only because she could manipulate you as she could not manipulate me. You were the daughter of the High Lord, who in her scheme would one day claim great power, while I was but an
ikada
herder’s child. You were to be given as a gift what I had earned many times over. Brisi is the betrayer, not me, or do you not agree?”

Kayli took a deep breath, but somehow she could not bring herself to recite, even in her mind, one of the calming rituals Brisi had taught her.

“Very well,” she said at last. “If I find your words true, I will grant your request if I can. But answer one last question.”

“What question?” The eagerness, almost greed, in Vayavara’ s eyes troubled Kayli deeply.

“The other Orders,” Kayli said softly. “Were they together with Brisi in this?”
Please,
she thought.
Not Endra. Not Kairi. Oh, bright Flame, spare me that at least.

Vayavara shook her head.

“Of that I know nothing,” she said. “Messages were sent and received, but I was not privy to them. That High Lord Terendal sickened and died so conveniently, that Brisi’s agent in Agrond had so great a skill in poisons, that carries the flavor of one of the healing Orders. I believe other Orders share Brisi’s goals, but she could have accomplished all with no aid. If any acted with her, I do not know it.”

The answer did not reassure Kayli, but she nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. “When can you wake Randon?”

“Tonight, when the others sleep,” Vayavara told her. “In the meantime go to the third meditation chamber. Tell any who ask that you will mourn your family. No one will interrupt you. Tonight I will meet you there.”

The meditation chamber was just as she remembered it, a simple bare room with a woven mat and an oil lamp. Kayli knelt on the mat and lit the lamp, gazing into the small flame. How could she focus her thoughts when a thousand questions whirled in her head like a dust storm? How could she compose herself when her world had been burned to ash around her?

How could any of Vayavara’s words be true? And yet there was no lie in the priestess’s eyes. Every fiber of Kayli’s soul wanted to deny what she had heard, yet Randon’s magical sleep and his neglected state proved that Brisi had lied to her.

And what motivation did Vayavara have to lie? For if what she had said was false, Kayli  had no further place in the Order, and in the natural course of time Vayavara would succeed Brisi as High Priestess anyway. She would have no need of Kayli’s assistance—unless what she had said was true.

“Father, Mother, forgive me,” Kayli whispered. They had sent her to Agrond to end centuries of hostility between their countries; instead, through her self-focused naïveté, she had allowed herself to become the spark that might set both countries aflame. How she had shamed her parents!

And yet when Kayli closed her eyes it was Kairi’s face she saw. Was Kairi alive? And if Kairi had been a part of Brisi’s plot, the Kairi that Kayli had loved so dearly, Kayli thought sickly that she would rather her sister were dead. Was this pain in her heart what Randon felt when he wondered whether Terralt had been the one to betray him?

Resolutely Kayli focused on the flame of the lamp. One by one, she visualized her concerns and let the image of the flame burn each to ash as she had been taught; then she summoned the vision of a sweet fresh breeze blowing in from the plains to waft the ashes away, leaving her mind clear and calm.

For the first time in months Kayli felt peace. There was little enough she could do at this point, but one step she
could
take—she could bring her own power back under her control. If she could do that much, then she and Randon would have that tool—or weapon—at their disposal.

She focused on the lamp flame. She could feel it at the back of her mind, a small pleasurable tickling sensation. Carefully Kayli sent that small flame deeper inside her, letting her own spark of the Flame pull it inward. She followed the small flame deep within until she felt light ahead of her—and a scent of burning grass. The small flame darted into the greater light as if shot from a bow, and it seemed to Kayli that the bright light grew stronger as the smaller flame was absorbed.