The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) (20 page)

Vatar lay back on his cot in the apprentice quarters at
Uncle Lanark’s. He wasn’t sleepy yet, but there wasn’t much else to do. It
wasn’t like going out would do him any good. No decent Caerean father would
allow his daughter within arms’ reach of a barbarian, even now that he was a master
smith. And while he enjoyed a cup of wine now and then, he didn’t really like
getting drunk. It interfered with his work too much. No fun hammering on iron
and steel with a pounding in his temples.

The problem with staying in was that it gave him too much
time to think about his children. And miss them. Strange how he missed them so
much when he hadn’t had a chance to spend that much time with them in the first
place, but their absence had become a huge hole in his life. Good thing his
first lesson with Cestus was tomorrow evening. Maybe Father would show up for a
chess game. Anything to distract him from following the same thoughts in an
endless circle. Maybe he could get a book or scroll to read in the evenings.
Cestus had mentioned something about that last year, but Avaza had taken up his
evenings—one way or another—back then. Now, he could use the diversion.

He raised himself on one elbow at a knock on the frame of
the open door. “Oh, hello, Arcas.”

Arcas came in and sat on the other cot, now pushed up
against the opposite wall. “There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about
for a while, but this summer . . . what with Avaza and then your babies . . .
well, it just didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up.” He cleared his
throat. “What are your plans? You know . . . after this winter?”

Vatar swung his legs over and sat up. “I’m going back to the
Dardani, of course.” Vatar’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Well . . . I’ve been thinking. You see, I don’t think
there’s really enough work to keep you busy among the Dardani—not to mention
the trouble of hauling raw iron and steel out there to work. And getting
charcoal for the forge. That’ll be a problem too, you know.”

“That was the whole point when I became Uncle Lanark’s
apprentice. That I’d be the Dardani’s first smith.”

“Yes,” Arcas said. “But you can do everything you need to
during a couple of months at Zeda. In fact, that’s the only time it’d really be
worthwhile. The rest of the time, you’d be isolated from most of the clans
anyway. And there isn’t anything resembling a forge anywhere but Zeda.”

Vatar cocked his head to one side. “That’s all true, but . .
.”

Arcas cut him off. “So I was thinking that it’d make more
sense for you to come back to Caere in the winters. You could continue your
advanced training.”

“But I don’t want to be away from my children that much.”

Arcas waved that aside. “I’ll get to that in a moment. This
is about more than your continued training. A golden opportunity. You see, I
spent part of last winter with the Modgud—”

“How’d you arrange that?” The Modgud were well known for
being reclusive.

Arcas grinned. “Traded them some good Caerean knives for the
privilege. I wanted to see for myself what they need and what they have to
trade, so I could try expanding that trade. It was more than worth it.” Arcas
drew a shiny lump from his pouch and tossed it in the air. “They have gold on
that plateau of theirs, Vatar. Washes down an old river channel during the
rainy season. They think it’s useless, which I guess it is—for their purposes.
They think I’m crazy, but they’re willing to trade it for iron and steel tools
and arrowheads. Of course, I need to have this checked out at the Smiths’
Guild, first.”

Vatar reached out and caught the lump on a second toss. He
turned it over and weighed it in his hand. “Looks like gold to me, but you’ll
need to take it to the Guild Hall to be certain. And to have them set the
value. I’ll go with you, if that’s what you want, though I’m sure your father
would be willing to help you with this, too.”

“It should be you.” Arcas shifted restlessly. “You see . . .
I thought we could go into partnership, you and I. You make the knives and
arrowheads and whatever else for me to trade with the Modgud. With you
specializing in blades, it’s a perfect fit. I’m going to set up the trade to go
through your father. Sort of keeping it all in the family.”

Vatar nodded. “I could do that. But I could do it as easily
at Zeda.”

“It’s much easier to transport the finished goods than the
raw materials.” Arcas shifted restlessly and looked around the
sparely-furnished room. “You know, now that you’re a master smith, there’s no
reason you need to stay here in Father’s apprentice quarters. You could get
your own place.”

Vatar’s brow wrinkled, trying to follow the twists and turns
of Arcas’s logic. He was leading up to something, but Vatar couldn’t see what,
yet. “I don’t see the point. Until Uncle Lanark wants to get a new apprentice,
this suits me. It’s not like I need more space. And there’s Aunt Castalia’s
cooking.”

Arcas shifted again. “Well, see, I was thinking we could
find a place
outside
the city to set up. Then you could maybe bring the
twins with you. When they’re a little older, anyway.”

Vatar turned to stare out the window at the dark and empty
courtyard. Could he really bring his children here? It would certainly keep
them safe from Maktaz. But what about the dangers Father and Cestus had warned
him about here? Would they be safe from discovery by the Searchers outside the
city walls? He half-smiled. Father would know.

He took a deep breath. The air here smelled of city—of too
many people crammed into too small a space. Sweat and sewer stink, the mixed
odors of three or four family’s dinners, all overlaid with the smells of salt
and rotting seaweed. The farmland outside the city walls was not the plains,
but it was much greener and more open than the city. It smelled more alive.
He’d feel more . . . normal working out there. “Someplace with enough room for
me to set up my own forge. Maybe enough room to rest the horses and cattle
before you take them to market, too.”

Arcas grinned. “Good idea! I hadn’t thought of that, but
they’d bring a better price that way. And enough room for two
families—eventually.”

Vatar smiled more broadly. He thought he could finally see
what was behind all of Arcas’s plans. “Why do I have the feeling you already
have someone in mind?”

Arcas grinned back. “Probably because I do. The lovely
Elaria.” Arcas waved his hands in the air in imitation of a female figure.

Vatar smiled at Arcas’s enthusiasm.
May you have better
luck with that than I did.

“I’ll start looking for a place tomorrow. By the way, how
much money do you have saved?” Arcas asked.

Vatar shrugged. “I really don’t know. I haven’t needed much
living here. And Aunt Castalia kept Avaza from spending much at the markets.”

“Where is your money?” Arcas asked. “Kind of need to know
what our budget is before I start looking.”

“Deposited at the Smith’s Guild, of course. Safest place for
it. I’ll find out how much there is tomorrow.”

~

Vatar enjoyed his lesson with Cestus, who had expanded their
subjects to include geography and history as well as letters and numbers. He’d
also found a flute for Vatar to practice on so they could play music together.

Vatar smiled and pulled out the chessboard when his father
arrived. “I was afraid maybe you weren’t coming.”

Father smiled broadly. “Not a chance. So, how do you find
fatherhood?”

“It’s . . . an awakening,” Vatar answered.

Father smiled. “That’s a very apt description. I remember
the first time I held Boreala.”

“Boreala?”

Father nodded and moved his first walker. “Yes. She’s my
first child.” He looked up at Vatar. “So, will you be bringing your twins to
Caere next year?”

Vatar made his first move. “That depends.”

“On what?” Father asked.

Vatar looked up from the board. “On how safe they’d be here.
Safe from the Searchers, I mean. You see, Zavar has my eyes.”

Father sat back. “That could complicate things.”

“Yes, but my cousin Arcas has this plan. He wants us to go
into business together. Trading with the Dardani and the Modgud. I’d be making
the blades and other items for trade, as well as going out to Zeda to make the
repairs and small items there. He thinks we could buy our own place outside the
city walls with room for my forge and a small pasture to rest the horses and
cattle before he sells them.”

Father smiled. “It sounds idyllic.” He rubbed his chin.
“Outside the walls, eh? You know, very few Fasallon go outside the city. Most
never leave the Temple grounds—which are much larger than you’d expect from the
outside. Unless there was a good reason to suspect something, I doubt the
Searchers would even go beyond the gates.”

Vatar smiled. “Then maybe I’ll have them with me next year.
I’d like that. I miss them more than I could have expected. I’d like to have
them with me, if I can find someone to take care of them.”

“And what of Avaza?” Cestus asked. “Won’t she be coming back
with you?”

Vatar shook his head. “No. That’s over. It was never . . .
never
really
right anyway. Not like what Pa and Mother have.”

“That kind of relationship takes time to develop.” Father
shrugged. “As well as compatibility.”

“You’ll find a new wife, then? A new year mate, I mean,”
Cestus asked.

Vatar shrugged. “Maybe next year. If Arcas’s idea works out.
I won’t bring another Dardani woman to Caere otherwise. The city is too hard on
them.”

“Well, what about a Caerean woman, then?” Father asked.
“You’ll be here more than half the year.”

Vatar snorted “I still don’t know any. The guild masters may
like me as a pupil and as a smith, but they still see me as a barbarian. They
don’t want to introduce their daughters to me. They’re afraid I’ll take one of
them back out onto the plains to live in a dirt hut.”

Father moved his horseman. “I’d offer to introduce you to
some charming half-blood girls, but that would embroil you in Fasallon
politics. I think you’re better off without that. Especially now, with your
children”

Vatar moved one of his priests to counter the horseman.

Father looked across at him. “Speaking of missing your
children, there could be a way for you to see them for yourself.”

Vatar sat back. “We’re not talking about magic again, are
we, Father?”

Father rubbed his chin. “No, I wouldn’t call it that. It is,
certainly, a use of Talent, but not one that can actually affect anything. Far
Sight only allows you to see things that are not within eye-sight. How can
there be any harm in that?”

Vatar blew out his breath. It would be wonderful to see
Zavar and Savara, but this was all just conjecture. He had no magic. And he’d
rather not talk about the impossible. It only made him miss the twins more.
Besides, the Dardani had strict rules about snooping into others’ lives. “It’s
dishonorable to pry into the privacy of others.”

Father chuckled. “An admirable sentiment—with adults or even
those nearing adulthood. But really, Vatar. Parents watch over infants and
young children all the time, for their own safety. Surely there’s no harm in
that.”

Vatar shook his head. “Maybe not, but there’s no point in
talking about the impossible. I don’t have any magic—and I don’t want any.”

Father’s eyes held Vatar’s. “Haven’t you
ever
felt
that you could see someone even though you weren’t near them? Your parents,
maybe. When you were first here alone?”

Vatar shrugged. He had, once or twice, but always just
before he fell asleep or when he seemed to see an image in his forge fire or
the red-hot metal. “Only on the edge of sleep or in daydreams, as anyone might.
I know that’s not real.”

“How do you know?” Father asked.

“Because I don’t always see real people. Most times, it’s
only a girl I dreamed up years ago. I know she’s not real, because I’ve never
seen anyone with hair the color of flame. It’s only dreams.”

Father moved one of his walkers. “Maybe it is.”

~

Vatar followed Arcas to a gate along a country lane about a
mile from the Temple Gate. Easy walking distance to the guild halls. “Here.
This is it.”

Vatar looked over the gate and smiled. The yard between the
gate and the house was dominated by a huge old apple tree. Beyond that a large
one-story house rambled. He spotted a shed or workshop in the yard that could
be converted to house his forge.

“Come on,” Arcas said. “We can go in and look around.” He
led the way to the house. “A large family lived here—two brothers and their
families. But one had only daughters who married into the guilds and live in
the city. The other brother’s only son ran the place for a while, but his
children have moved into the city, too and now he wants to move closer to his
grandchildren. That’s why the place is for sale.”

Vatar wandered through the building. The family history
helped to explain its odd layout. The central block, facing the gate, contained
a large kitchen and two large rooms, meant to hold several people at a time.
The rest of the house was divided into two wings, going back from the central
block on either side. Almost two separate houses that shared a kitchen and
dining/living area.

He wandered out the back of the house to inspect the shed.
There was also a slightly ramshackle barn. They wouldn’t need that to house
Dardani horses, not in Caere’s mild climate, but it could be used to store
grain for feed and maybe some of their trade goods. Beyond that was a large
fenced pasture, cut by a small stream. Plenty of room to rest the herds they’d
bring back for trade and to keep a small string of horses for their own use.

He breathed in the air. Grass, a faint whiff of
manure—presumably from the neighbor’s pasture that backed up onto this one,
since nothing but wild creatures had grazed this pasture for a while. Familiar,
homey smells. Not even a hint of the salt-and-seaweed tang of Caere. This was a
place he could truly feel at home. He could already picture the twins—a little
older—climbing in that apple tree and himself teaching them to ride out in the
pasture. “It’s perfect.”