Rite of Exile: The Silent Tempest, Book 1 (20 page)

“Or else I have a little house,” he said. His voice sounded as strong and defiant of his age as it did on her last visit. He noticed the duffel bag. “I’ll stable your friend out there and bring in the rest of your belongings.” He waved her inside, then shut the door on the way out.

She stopped at the center of the house, admiring its humble surroundings. A worn oak table occupied the right side of the room, and a small iron stove in the left corner radiated a level of warmth that marked an old man’s waning years. She closed her eyes and released a long sigh of contentment.

Telai placed her bag on the table, and sat in one of the narrow-backed wooden chairs on either side. Anidrin had lived in this stone shack for most of his life, a quiet, isolated existence as a local tanner in contrast to his better-known brother, Acallor. It was Acallor, Loremaster of Spierel, who had first set her on the path of historical discovery—back when she was a sulky girl of fifteen who thought the world spared no effort to make her miserable. Acallor had taught her to love her craft through patience and discipline, for which she would forever be grateful.

But he was a reserved man, unlike his older brother. Anidrin had taken an immediate liking to Telai, admiring her not as a scholar but as a promising young woman, even as a daughter. Telai could not help but respond. In the years since she had learned to trust him, revealing hopes and fears she would never dream of discussing in the cold chambers of Spierel’s ancient towers.

Some time passed before Anidrin returned. Telai knew he was treating Eiveya with the same care she always did: brushing her down, cleaning her hooves, and making sure she had plenty of grain and water.

The door creaked open at last. “Anidrin, I’m beginning to think you get more pleasure out of seeing Eiveya than me.”

“She’s a fine animal, for sure,” he said as he hung his coat near the door. “But you’re a fish calling a duck wet!”

She grinned. “I have to admit, there aren’t many people whose company I prefer to hers.”

Anidrin beamed at the hidden compliment. “Give me a minute and I’ll heat up that leftover batch of dumplings.”

Telai groaned in ecstasy. “Dumplings! You’re a sweetheart!”

The conversation lagged as Anidrin prepared the food, but Telai didn’t mind. She stretched her legs under the table, hands behind her head, breathing in the delicious aroma. How many times had she longed for this simple life, especially this last year? But she knew it was an illusion. She could never waste away the years like that, until her passion for discovery had withered to a stale memory.

The dumplings were ready, and Anidrin occupied himself with a few chores while Telai gave all her attention to her appetite. He insisted on cleaning up afterward, and offered up the one padded chair he owned, a patched monstrosity next to where the lantern still burned on the windowsill. It was much more comfortable than it looked, and Telai nodded off almost the moment she sank into it.

The polite clearing of a throat snapped her eyes open. Anidrin sat by the table wearing a puckish grin.

“Not much company, am I?” Telai said. “I hope I’m not getting old before my time.”

“Humph! A fine thing to say to a man nearly three times your age.”

“Ah, but it runs in the family, Anidrin—at least on my mother’s side. I’d be lucky to do as well as you.” She shrugged. “If
I’m still around, that is.”

The old man drummed his knobbly fingers on the table. “I suppose you’re referring to this latest news about the Medallion.”

Telai fingered a loose thread on the arm of the chair. “You’ve heard?”

“Day before yesterday. One of the Raéni messengers stopped at the relay station near the inn.”

“A dispatch rider? From where?”

“I wasn’t there at the time. But rumor has it he rode straight from Udan.”

“I don’t understand. They already sent one to Wsaytchen. Why didn’t they stick to protocol and let the Overseer relay the message?”

Anidrin shrugged. “Speaking of protocol—why has the Grand Loremaster left Ekendoré?”

She hesitated. “Isn’t it obvious? I need to confirm the Medallion.”

“You forget who you’re talking to, Telai.
Any
Loremaster can do that.”

“Not really. Other than
Larai way down in Besa
, they’re all at least thirty years older
. And there’s no Loremaster at Enilií.”

“Enilií! Is that where this Falling Man went?”

She didn’t answer at once, a little needled by his use of the nickname. “It’s only a guess. Last I heard, they were heading into Blood Valley. Soren went with them.”

“Then Enilií must be where the messenger was headed.”

“Perhaps. It still doesn’t explain why the message was sent in the first place. But I know one thing: I don’t trust whoever did.” She stared absently for a moment, her mind awhirl with fearful predictions. “I can only stay for one day, Anidrin. I have to find out what’s happening.”

“What? You can’t go chasing around in the wild all by yourself, girl!”

“Why not? I’ve done it plenty of times. Besides, I can’t stand the thought of Caleb and that sweet boy of his exiled again—by our own people, no less!”

His stare slowly widened. “By Hendra, it’s true—you’ve fallen in love with him!”

“What do you mean,
it’s true
? Don’t tell me the messenger said that.”

“I guessed it long before then. What did you expect, Telai? You spent almost an entire winter alone with this man in his room, then gave him the Gift of Farewell at his Oath ceremony.” Anidrin shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “And I won’t tell you what I heard about that stunt you pulled on top of
Sonién
.”

Telai’s cheeks fired, from embarrassment as well as wrath. “Who I may or may not be attracted to is nobody’s business but my own!”

“But the Falling Man! Any other fellow would jump at the chance to court the Overseer’s daughter. Why in great thundering Grondolos did you pick
him
?”

“I don’t want
any other fellow
. And don’t start on me like that. If you want someone to blame, go right to the top. She’s the one who let the Council sic this teaching duty on me. The last thing I need to hear is another one of my mother’s speeches!” Tears started in her eyes, and she swiped them away with a curse.

Anidrin scratched the back of his head, lips curled in chagrin. “Telai, you know you’re like a daughter to me. So forgive this old mule for letting his fears get the better of him. But there’s been talk these last few months. Some consider your recent behavior as inappropriate for the Grand Loremaster. They think your attraction to this man is clouding your judgment.”

Telai stared at him, speechless. “
Who’s
been talking?” she finally asked, her voice shaking with indignation. He gave no answer, reluctance tightening his wrinkles. “Damn it, Anidrin! I have a right to know.”

He sighed. “Werten and Tenra at Ekendoré, and—well, maybe a few at Spierel.”

“Spierel? What does Acallor have to say about that?” Again he hesitated, and her jaw dropped. “No! I won’t believe it. He would
never
think that about me.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm, Telai. It’s just—well, you know how some people feel about the Falling Man—”

“—his name is Caleb, Anidrin!”

He fell silent for a moment. “Telai, Acallor wouldn’t be so worried if you were interested in an ordinary man. Though my brother can be a little reclusive, as Loremaster of Spierel he’s well respected, and has the confidence of the Underseers. He’s heard enough talk to know your reputation is beginning to suffer.”

It was all Telai could do to keep from flying into a rage. “What right do they have to dictate who I’m attracted to? Ugh! It’s the same old story—letting their fears turn their heads into mush.”

“Telai, I’m on your side. I don’t think it’s appropriate for them to be talking that way about you in public. Not until you’ve had a chance to defend yourself, at least. But you know as well as I do there are times when duty comes first.”

“Yes, yes, always duty. What the best curriculum is, how many scribes to appoint—or what research somebody
else
should be focusing on. For once I’d like to do something irrational without some stuffed shirt throwing a fit.”

Anidrin grinned broadly. “That’s my girl—thumbing your nose at conformity and tradition. I suppose I can’t expect you to change now, even if I wanted you to. Just promise me you’ll give at least
some
thought to your reputation.”

His praise doused her anger like a wave on hot coals. It was so like him—letting the lightning strike, yet smiling in the rain. “I will, don’t worry.”

His expression turned wistful. “I still think Tenlar was a fool for joining the Raéni.”

“You would have to bring
that
up. Maybe I was as much a fool for not following him.”

“You don’t believe that any more than I do, unless—” He peered at her closely for a moment. “Don’t tell me this Caleb fellow has fallen in love with you, too!” She nodded, and Anidrin snorted in disgust. “I swear, youth is wasted on the young.”

“No, Anidrin. I didn’t leave Ekendoré just for Caleb. It’s his son, too—Warren. I feel sort of, well,
connected
to him, like I’m responsible for him in some way.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Don’t try. You’re just tired. Two days’ rest would do you a world of good.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not going talk me out of this, Anidrin.”

“Don’t get sassy on me. You need time to sort your head out before you go running off again. And that four-footed friend of yours deserves a little rest, too.”

“Always the conniver. One more day, then. No more.” She yawned. “You still have that old mattress pad?”

“A little moth-eaten, but serviceable. Nothing a few blankets won’t cure. Sit tight, and I’ll fetch it from the other room.”

Telai felt a trace of guilt about letting her elderly host do all the work. Yet she knew any offer to help would be futile, even insulting. Anidrin had never married or had children, and he delighted at any opportunity to fuss over her. If a few aches and stiff joints was a price he was willing to pay, who was she to rob him of a little joy?

Her brows contracted in sudden foreboding.
A price to be paid.
Deep down she knew her mother was right—there
will
be a price to pay, one far greater than she might be ready for or could even afford.

She looked at her upturned hands. They were blistered and sore from riding, turned soft by the administrative duties thrust upon her these last several months. Now, not only her happiness was at stake, but her reputation and authority as well.

Telai clenched her fists, defying the pain.
A life to call my own. I’ve earned that, too.

16

Spies and Suspicions

Keep one eye on your enemy.

The other on your ally.

- Soren, 17
th
Master Raén of Ada

CALEB WOKE
late next morning to the bustle of city streets drifting down the alley outside their window. Even Soren had risen only within the last hour, waiting patiently while the others slept. Warren was stirring; Rennor kept snoring away until Caleb tired of it and joggled him awake.

Rennor flexed his arms and shoulders, still suffering from his long trek without a horse. After putting up with his groans for a while, Soren testily agreed to let them all visit the bathhouse, for the innkeeper had mentioned it was usually empty this time of day. The stone walls echoed with sighs and gasps of relief as they sank into the hot water, and
Warren, his boyish laughter music to Caleb’s ears, splashed about with delight. With their limbs clean and limber once more and their spirits reborn, their hunger reached predatory levels, and after returning to their room they ordered all the food they could eat.

Caleb hoped that with a full stomach and a long sleep, Soren was in a better mood to be approached. “I can’t speak for Rennor, but more than one day of rest here would do us good.”

Soren wrinkled his brow. “It would do our horses more good than us. I only agreed to the bath to speed our own recovery. But we can’t risk staying. Not only does the threat of this search hang over us, but the approach of winter, too. I’ve traveled in snow, of course, but we’re not equipped for it.”
He sat near the window, and reached over to draw the curtains aside. “Looks like we’re in for a spell of good weather. We’ve already wasted hours of it. We can get a bit more sleep tonight, but we should be gone long before sunrise.”

Rennor asked, “What about me? Can you trust me enough to get your supplies, as Caleb suggested?” Caleb frowned in vague misgiving, then shrugged it off.

“It seems we have little choice,” Soren answered. “Maybe you were too tired last night to try anything. Right now I’m choosing the smaller risk—at least I hope so.”

Rennor’s gray eyes steadied. “There’s no point in arguing with you. I’m more than willing to go out and secure provisions—that is, if you tell me what to buy, and give me the means. I’m not a wealthy man.”

Soren hesitated, then reached into a deep pocket of his coat nearby and handed over a small pouch of money. He wrote a list on a scrap of paper using a quill and well of ink left on a table, and gave it to Rennor.

“Make sure you get everything I’ve written down. Don’t mention our names, or even the name of the inn. Choose from the lesser-known stores this side of town—if possible a general mercantile so you can get it all in one place. And don’t worry about the price. You have enough there to buy everything the first place you walk into. Return immediately. If you see any Raéni, don’t sneak around or hide like a criminal—it’ll only draw attention.”

Rennor fought a smile, then grabbed his coat and left.

♦