Sword of Jashan (Book 2) (22 page)

* * * * *

Callo slept for a full day after his ordeal. Yhallin had no call for Kirian’s services. Kirian and Chiss used some of this time making a list of women in a position to hire an attempt on Ander’s life. They dared not ask Yhallin for her opinion; the woman was too close to the King, although she had gone to great lengths to help Callo.

The list was short. Mage Yhallin was on it; Lady Sira Joah, the King’s sister, far away in Seagard Castle; Queen Efalla; Lady Dria Mar.

“She is Lord Ander’s own mother, and we know she would defend her son’s right to the throne until death,” Kirian argued. “Why should she be on this list?”

Chiss shrugged. “All women who are concerned with the succession should be on this list. It is a task for another time to argue their merits.”

“And Queen Efalla. I have not met her. I have heard she is more concerned with her hair style than with the dealings of King Martan.”

“So I have heard also.”

“Lady Sira Joah is a sennight away, trapped in Seagard Castle.”

“Well, she is not trapped,” Chiss said. “She is not Collared. Her lord husband is dead and her son Arias as well. Who is to say she would not leave that place and involve herself in manipulating the affairs of the kingdom?”

Kirian raised an eyebrow at him.

Chiss’ mouth twisted upwards. “All right, I agree she is more likely to mope in her room than take any action. Nevertheless, Hon Kirian. We must include all we can think of.”

They spent another candlemark mulling possible conspirators. At the end of the candlemark, they had added Hira Noh, the woman who led the rebel group Sword of Jashan. They stared at the list, seeing no real possibilities on it.

When Callo awakened, he was in a strange mood. Chiss, attending to his lord’s morning routine and his preparations for the day, told Kirian that Callo had spoken only to say good morning.

“Nothing else, no casual talk, and he still seems exhausted,” the manservant told Kirian.

“Is he ill?”

“He is burned. Mage Yhallin has treated and wrapped his hands and arms, and she gave him some potion to drink with his morning tea. She said his chest is burned, not too badly, and his left leg. He has a bad burn on his cheekbone, but it is small. He moves as if he is in pain, but he has not complained.”

Kirian made the injuries her excuse to stop in and see Callo later that morning.

“Good morning, my love,” she said as she walked onto the balcony.

He turned to her and smiled. The morning light struck his hair and amber eyes and seemed to turn him to gold. She caught her breath.

It took a moment for her to steady herself. “Are you all right, my dear?” she asked.

“I have been waiting for you.” His voice was slow and a little husky. She thought he had not used it much since he had screamed yesterday in the little underground room.

“Well, I am here.” She walked around in front of him and ran her eyes over him. The burn on his face would leave a scar. His hands were wrapped to the mid-forearm, the salve Yhallin had used staining the bandages. Yhallin had told her that Callo was in quite a bit of pain.

“Do I pass inspection?” he said.

“Do you doubt it?” She bent and put her arms around him, taking care not to exert any pressure on his burned chest. “I am so glad you are well. The whole time you were in there I wondered what would have happened if I had just kept silent about . . . what you had done. What if you had died, my love?”

“I did not.” He turned his head against hers, then winced.

“How are your hands? What does Yhallin say?”

He shrugged. “I will heal. It may take a few sennights, and there may be some scarring on my hands.” He scooped her closer with the crook of his arm and she went, glad to see some life in him. She wound up sitting on the floor, half-turned to lean against his knees and look up at him.

“I wanted to come in there so badly.” She did not know if she should say it, but he should know that she had suffered with him.

“It is good you did not. The energies in there would have killed you.”

“That is what Yhallin said.”

“Kirian, it is very strange. My whole life I have been building barriers, forcing mage energies I did not understand behind walls, begging Jashan for control. Now—”

“Yes?”

He looked puzzled. “There are no more walls, yet I am not being consumed by fire. Everything is in its place, part of me.”

Kirian smiled. “That is good.”

“It is good. I feel quiet inside.”

“Yhallin said she would get you a mage cloak.”

He snorted. “What? One of those things Arias used to wear, floating with colors all the time?”

She nodded, grinning at his more typical response.

“Tell her I will not wear the thing. They always bothered me—always. Besides, tell her I have not the right to wear it. I still know nothing of magery, Kirian.”

She laughed. “How can you claim to know nothing of magery? After what you have been through?”

“I have strength, but no education. I can do no more than light a candle or fling out energy in all directions. I need a teacher, if I should plan to become a real color mage as well as a psychic mage.”

“His majesty would be pleased if you did become a color mage.”

“Yes, he would.” Callo sipped more wine. His eyes looked a little dazed, from the wine or the experience he had been through she did not know. She took his bandaged hand in her own, very gently.

“There is no need to think about such things now.”

“Believe me, Yhallin has sent him word, and he is thinking about such things. One day, Kirian—one day and one night of peace while I learn what my own body feels like again. Then I must begin my work to fulfill my vow against His Majesty Sharpeyes.”

“Yhallin is making plans to take you back to Sugetre once you are healed, so the King can do his binding on you.”

Callo smiled. “I am not going back into the trap. I am going to the Sword of Jashan.”
 

Chapter Thirteen

Chiss came for Kirian after midnight. She was waiting, her Healer’s bag ready and her few spare clothes jammed into a cloth bag. She opened the door, grabbed her things, and followed him to the stable yard.

Callo was already mounted. He nodded at Kirian and Chiss. Two more horses stood saddled and ready by the stable doors. A small shape huddled behind the saddle of Chiss’ mount. It was Mot, looking terrified on the back of the horse as she had not during all the other dangers that had plagued her since they had met. One of the hold’s horses made a snuffling sound from its stall as Callo’s mare led the way at a walking pace out of the stable yard and toward the gates. The night air was fitful with a gusty breeze that cooled the air and warned of an oncoming storm.

A gaunt figure in messenger tunic and breeches stood in the middle of the opening. Yhallin held a hand torch high. Its flame snapped in the breeze. Off to the side, Kirian’s eyes separated several figures from the surrounding shadows, and realized the Mage Healer had guardsmen ready to assist her.

Callo drew Miri to a stop before Mage Yhallin. “I hoped to avoid this,” he said to her.

“I have placed too much trust in you,” Yhallin said. “You owe me too much to slink off into the night like this.”

“I do owe you much,” Callo said. “So much that I hoped to spare you this confrontation.”

“King Martan awaits you back at Sugetre Castle. He is your uncle and your King, to whom you owe your existence, as I have been told. I will deliver you back to him as I swore, in better case than when we left.”

Kirian’s mare moved restlessly, and Yhallin’s dark eyes went to her. “And as for you—you break your oath and run once again. Did you not say you would work with me until I gave you leave?”

Kirian was surprised that she felt a rush of shame. She had indeed promised Yhallin this, and Yhallin had done nothing to merit breaking that promise.

“Make way for us,” Callo said to Yhallin.

“I will not. Do you think you can best my skill with magery and win past me?”

A sphere of scarlet magery rose like a bubble of hot glass from the mage’s hands and grew to encircle them. The night air stilled within the enclosure. Kirian reached out to touch it, and jerked a hand back as the shield sizzled with power. Next to her, Chiss was doing the same thing. The reddish cast of the bubble made Yhallin’s torch look bloody and smeared.

Callo sighed. “Mage Yhallin, I do indeed thank you, but I cannot return to Sugetre. You know full well that the King my uncle will only imprison me until he can convert me to his will, and his true heir Ander will fall by the wayside. Beside this, all other considerations must take second place. I do not wish to hurt you.”

One of the guards jeered. “Much chance you stand of doing that, mageling.”

A ring of color magery encircled Callo’s hands. He reached out, gloved by his own magery, and touched the smooth, hot surface of the encircling sphere. Then he pushed, hard; Kirian could see the muscles of his forearm flex as he exerted his strength. The magery flared around his fingers as he tested it, but thin as it appeared, it did not give.

“You have great strength, but you have not learned to use the power Jashan gave you,” Yhallin said. “You cannot win out. Agree to come back to Sugetre with me, and I will promise you will not be imprisoned on the journey.”

Kirian grimaced. That was a noble offer, indeed. Yhallin knew full well that Callo was a man of honor, and would do what he swore. No guards would be necessary, in spite of this night’s attempt at escape.

“I am sorry, Mage Yhallin,” Callo said. “I cannot return. Give His Majesty my regards, if you will, and tell him I have not forgotten the death of my brother Arias.”

“Fool,” Yhallin said. She sighed. “So it is, then.” It was getting hot inside the sphere. Chiss’s horse neighed and reared in panic. Mot yelped and grabbed Chiss’ waist and hung on. Kirian dismounted and held her horse close to the bridle to calm it. Standing so close to the restraining magery, she began to sweat. Her hands felt slippery on the rein.

Yhallin gestured to her guards. The men approached the mage sphere. There were more of them than Kirian had thought; she realized there were too many to overcome in a fight.

Kirian looked at Callo. Her lover sat on Miri as if nothing was wrong. The magery tinged his hair the same red as the torches and Yhallin’s shaven head.

Yhallin’s men formed a half-circle around the stableyard gates to block any escape. Swords were held at the ready. Yhallin relaxed as she let the mage sphere die away so her guards could arrest Callo. The magery fell like a curtain released from a rod, all at once, and vanished into the earth. For a moment Kirian could not see; only the wan torchlight illuminated the scene now that Yhallin’s magery was gone.

As soon as the red mage energy died away, Kirian heard Callo take a deep breath. As smoothly as the mage shield had vanished, so did Kirian’s worry. She realized there was no doubt they would come out of this confrontation well. She felt a glow of trust.

From Miri’s back, Callo looked down at her. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” she asked. “There is no reason to apologize. I trust you absolutely to get us out of this safely.” She reached for his hand.

“Yes, I know,” he said.

The guards did not seem to be approaching to take them prisoner. Kirian saw two men sheathe their swords. Another man backed away from them, shaking his head as if confused.

“What have I done?” Yhallin held her hands to her head. “I beg your pardon, Lord Callo. Of course, you will do as you should and return to King Martan in your own time.”

“That’s true, at all events,” Chiss murmured behind her. Kirian turned to look at the manservant, and noticed he was smiling as he gazed at his lord.

One of the guards moved restlessly. “Mage Yhallin, we were to take this man prisoner in the King’s name.”

“Let him go.”

“But, Mage Yhallin—you gave the order.” But the man sounded uncertain.

“Orders change,” Yhallin said. She smiled up at Callo with an innocent trust that made Kirian shiver. The expression seemed surreal on the woman’s usually reserved face. “I believe him.”

Another guard backed away, clearing a path. He bowed to Callo. The wind picked up, breathing as if from the darkness beyond Deephold’s gates.

“Go,” Callo said to Kirian and Chiss. “Now.”

“But, my lord?” Chiss hesitated.

“Just go, and I will follow.”

“He will do as he says,” Kirian said, full of confidence in her lover. She lifted her hands on the reins and urged her mount away, Chiss and Mot on the other horse behind her. They reached the dark tree line and stopped. Kirian felt the trusting warmth fall away from her as she left Callo’s ku’an influence. Chiss yanked his horse’s head around in an uncharacteristic manner and swore. The horse squealed; Chiss released the pressure on the reins immediately. “That was a foolish thing for him to do,” he said.

Callo was just behind them. “Foolish or no, it got us out of there without harming anyone. Now, go. Yhallin will be ready to burn down the forest to find us after that.”

Chiss said: “You are right—she’ll not stop until we’re in chains. Where are we headed?”

“South a ways,” Callo said. “I’ll tell you as we go. We go to the Sword of Jashan.”

Mot screeched. “Ya promised my mama you’d take me to the Castle, and keep me safe from horny
righ
!” she said. “I ain’t goin’ to no Sword of Jashan!”

Kirian turned to look at the girl. Mot’s face was pale in the darkness, but she wore a fierce scowl.

“We cannot take you back right now,” Chiss said. “You can see we are being pursued.”

“I ain’t goin’ to no rebel camp full o’ men!”

“What do you suggest we do?” Callo said. “I do not want to force you, child, but it’s worth my life to take you back to Deephold right now. And as for Sugetre—it is days away.”

“It’s not worth
her
life,” Mot said, pointing to Kirian. “She can take me back.”

Kirian heard a distant call. Yhallin’s men were beginning to rally to conduct the search. “But I cannot,” she said. “I must stay with Lord Callo.”