The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) (28 page)

Orleus followed the trail back across the Forest with
Seeker’s help. Not Vatar’s path. He knew as much as he could learn from that.
The track left by Vatar’s pursuers. The traces told Orleus little beyond
number—apparently two men and two women—until they once again neared the far
side of the Forest. When he estimated that they’d reached about the same
distance from the Forest’s edge as Vatar’s first camp, the trail led them out
into a large clearing.

Eureka. The tattered remains of a tent flapped
disconsolately on one side of the clearing. In the center, rocks had been piled
into a cairn. Judging by its size and shape, it marked a grave. The rest could
wait. Orleus strode across the clearing and began pulling rocks from the cairn.

“What are you doing?” Cestus asked in a horrified whisper.

Orleus pulled another rock loose. “Getting a look at the
face of the enemy.” He turned to Cestus as he put the stone down. “Don’t worry.
We’ll cover him back up.”

Cestus gagged as they uncovered the body.

Orleus put a hand up to cover his nose. “Be grateful the
weather has turned cold. It could be worse.”

“He’s so young!” Cestus said. “There are students his age
still at the Temple school.”

Orleus nodded. “Yes. And he’s the one that was wounded in
the gut. That’s a nasty way to die. But at least it wasn’t Vatar. I didn’t
think it could be—he’d never have made it so far across the Forest. But now
we’re sure. All right, let’s cover him back up.”

After they finished, Orleus looked around the clearing for
any more information he could glean from the tent, which wasn’t much.

“What now?” Cestus asked.

Orleus turned his face to the sky. “It’s going to be cold
again tonight. We know there’s a decent shelter at Vatar’s first camp. We’ll go
there for now and make plans in the morning.”

Before they got to the camp, Orleus held up a hand, sniffing
the air. “Smoke. Someone’s already there.”

Cestus gripped the haft of his knife. “The same ones who chased
Vatar?”

Orleus shook his head. “No way of telling from here.” He
paused a moment longer. “Walk as quietly as you can.”

They peered out of the trees at the campsite. Two men stood
on the far side, gripping their spears.

Cestus studied them. “I . . . I think it’s okay. I think
they’re Modgud.”

“Who?”

Cestus shook his head and stepped out into the camp, hands
out and palms showing. “Are you Modgud?”

“We are,” the shorter of the two answered. “Who are you?”

“We’re Vatar’s brothers, from Caere. We came to help him,”
Cestus said.

“So did we,” the taller one said.

Cestus nodded. “Arcas said you might.”

“You know Arcas?” the first one asked.

Cestus smiled. “Yes. In fact, I officiated at his wedding.”

The two Modgud relaxed and introduced themselves as Bron and
Clev.

“Where is Vatar?” Clev asked.

Orleus sat down on the same log Vatar had used to keep his
tally of the days. “We don’t know. We never found him. Seeker and I tracked him
across the Forest. I believe he went over the mountains beyond. We can’t follow
him until spring. Snow has closed the pass.”

“Why would he go across the Forest?” Bron asked.

Orleus shrugged. “I hoped you might know. He was chased.”

Clev made a warding sign. “Spirits!”

Orleus shook his head. “No. His pursuers were definitely
human.”

“Only Spirits live in the deep places,” Clev said.

“Do Spirits bleed? Do they die of a spear thrust?” Orleus
asked. “Whoever chased Vatar did both. We found the grave of one of them back
there.”

By their posture, neither Bron nor Clev seemed convinced by
this. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Cestus broke it. “Can you take us to the Dardani? They will
have left Zeda by now. I don’t know where to find their autumn villages.”

“Which Clan?”

“Vatar’s. The Lion Clan. We should tell his family what
we’ve found.”

“We can,” Bron said with a nod. “They’re not far from here.”

~

Orleus and Cestus walked through the wide-spread oaks toward
the collection of sod huts that marked the Lion Clan autumn village.

“Cestus! Orleus! We didn’t expect you back so soon,” Danar
said when they arrived.

Lucina came from the women’s hut to join Danar. “What news
of Vatar?”

Orleus took a deep breath. “We never found him. We followed
him all the way across the Forest to the mountains on the other side. But we
were too late.”

“Too late?” Lucina clutched her throat.

“Too late to catch up to him,” Cestus said quickly giving
Orleus a dirty look for his tactlessness. There wasn’t any need to frighten
Vatar’s mother unnecessarily. The truth was scary enough. “We believe he went
or was taken to the other side of those mountains. But the pass is closed by
the snowfall. We can’t go back to find out what happened to him until spring.
We’d like to stay here with you until then. That way we can get an early
start.”

“Of course,” Danar said. “You couldn’t cross the plains
safely this late in the year anyway.”

“Why would he cross the Forest?” Lucina asked.

Orleus shook his head. “He was being chased by someone. We never
caught up with them, either. But they may have caught him. It’s likely he was
injured.”

There was a long moment of stunned silence.

“I have to find a way to send word to Veleus,” Danar said
suddenly.

Orleus winced. “He already knows.”

~

It was an unusually sunny and warm day for the season, so
the children laughed and played out in the open while the adults worked to set
up the winter camp nearer the Forest.
Oreus
and
Cestus paused to watch with amusement as Fenar, Zavar, and Savara squealed and
toddled away from Kiara, who’d been set to watch the younger ones. She was
pretending to be a tiger, who’d catch and eat them if they didn’t get away.

Orleus looked up toward the edge of the Forest. “I wonder if
I’ll get a chance to hunt one of those tigers this winter. That could liven
things up.”

Cestus shook his head. “If you’d ever seen a live one, even
you would think twice about that wish.”

Orleus’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the Forest edge.
“What’s that moving back among the trees?”

Cestus stiffened. “Tiger?”

Orleus gave a quick shake of his head without taking his
eyes off the trees. “No. Too tall. Human, I think. But . . . why are they
staying hidden? Why not just . . .” His eyes dipped to the ground just in front
of those trees, where Zavar toddled happily . . . straight toward whoever was
hiding back there. His voice rose to the pitch he was more accustomed to using
as the Captain of the Tysoean Guard. “Lords of Creation! Attack!” He sprinted
for the little boy.

Before Orleus could cross the distance, a man stepped out of
the Forest and grabbed Zavar. He tucked Zavar under his arm like a sack of
grain and started back into the cover of the trees. Zavar wailed loudly.

Savara and Kiara both screamed. Another man tried to grab
Savara, but Kiara grabbed the little girl up and pushed Fenar behind her. As
she reached for her belt knife, a third man tried to pluck Savara from Kiara’s
arms. Kiara bit his hand hard, drawing blood.

The raiders retreated, carrying Zavar off with them. Orleus,
Cestus, and Danar were right behind them. Arrow streaked past them, Seeker
close behind.

The man carrying Zavar fell slightly behind the others due
to his awkward, struggling burden. Arrow caught him easily, sinking her teeth
deep into his thigh. The man fell, dropping Zavar, who wailed more loudly. The
other two men turned to see what was happening. It was all the opening Orleus
needed. He threw his belt knife, striking one of the men in the shoulder.
Seeker knocked the third man to the ground, biting his arm savagely.

Danar stooped to pick up the still-wailing Zavar. The fallen
man drew his belt knife and slashed at the baby. Danar turned his body to
protect the child. The knife slashed instead across Danar’s back, almost making
him drop the boy. The other man struggled to his feet, kicking Arrow aside, and
ran after his fellows. Cestus took the terrified child while Orleus bound up
Danar’s wound and supported him back toward the huts.

As they went, Orleus whistled his dogs back from the
pursuit. Time to regroup and see to everyone’s safety. With Seeker’s help, he
could hunt down the attackers later.

Vatar sat dozing in the sun outside his infirmary room,
hoping that Thekila would come by to visit with him, as she usually did. Over
the last month or so, as he regained his strength, they’d talked and shared
their life stories. Well, everything but Avaza and the twins. Vatar hadn’t
found a way to mention them yet. Still, Thekila’s visits were the highlight of
his day. It was amazing how close he felt to her in such a short time. Closer
than he’d ever felt to Avaza.

Suddenly, he jolted upright, ignoring the pain from his
broken ribs. Zavar! Zavar was in danger! Something had frightened him. Badly.
Vatar struggled to his feet, still clumsy with his crutch, and hobbled back
into his room. He looked up from trying to force his boot on over his broken
ankle when Thekila stopped in his doorway.

“What are you doing?” she asked, hands on her slim hips.

Vatar went back to trying to pull his boot over his swollen
ankle. “I have to go back. My son is in danger.”

Thekila shook her head. “Vatar, you can’t go back now.”

“I have to.”

Thekila let out her breath in a long sigh. “It’s not possible.
The Pass is blocked by at least twenty feet of snow. No one can get through.”

Vatar paused. He knew she was right, but he could feel his
son’s panic like an itch at the back of his mind. He shook his head. “I have to
try.”

Thekila sat down next to him. “And if you succeed? How many
days did it take you to cross the Forest? With two good legs? And what about
the terms of your Ordeal? You can’t leave the Forest to the west even if you
could get that far.”

Vatar sagged. “My children are in danger. I can’t ignore it.
I can’t.”

Thekila laid her hand on his arm. “No. I don’t suppose you
can. How do you know they’re in danger?”

“I don’t know.” Vatar shook his head. “I just feel it. He’s
afraid.”

She nodded. “All right. A distance viewing, then.”

“Far Sight?” Vatar felt a shiver of fear at the thought.
He’d rejected the idea when Father suggested it, but now . . . if it would
somehow help Zavar, or at least let him know what was going on so it didn’t
drive him crazy, he’d try anything.

Thekila nodded. “That would be a fairly accurate
description. Now, if you can sense the danger, you can expand your senses to
see what’s happening. I’ll help you.”

Vatar shook his head. “Even if I had the Talent, I don’t
know how. And I can’t be calm and focused. Not right now.”

“Calm and focus are an excellent way to access one’s Powers.
The best, in fact. But they are not the only way. Emotion works, too. For now,
we’ll work with that. Concentrate on your son. Think of nothing else.”
Thekila’s voice was almost hypnotic.

Vatar concentrated on Zavar. Behind his closed eyes, he saw
the interior of a Dardani hut. At first it was distant and hazy, but as he
concentrated it became clearer. Then he saw Zavar and Fenar with someone’s arms
around them.

“What is he doing?” Thekila asked.

“He’s . . . he’s in a hut—my parents’ hut, I think. He and
Fenar—my baby brother—are being comforted by someone.”

“Good. You have other children?”

Vatar nodded. “A daughter.”

“Concentrate on her, now.”

Vatar squeezed his eyes tighter in concentration. “She’s
more difficult to see.”

“Try,” Thekila said.

“She’s with Kiara, my sister. Kiara’s holding her on her
lap.”

“Good. Now expand your senses. Who else is near them?”

Vatar drew in his breath sharply. “Pa’s been wounded! He’s
bleeding.” He winced in sympathy. “Mother’s cleaning the wound.”

“Keep expanding your senses. What else can you see?” Thekila
coached him with calm authority.

“Cestus! What’s Cestus doing there? He should be in Caere,”
Vatar said.

“What is he doing?”

Vatar’s hands clenched with the effort. “He’s the one
holding Zavar and Fenar. There’s someone else with him.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t recognize him. But . . . he feels
like a . .
. brother?” Was it that he
felt
like a brother, or that he looked so much
like a robust male version of Boreala?

The stranger threw up his head as if he’d heard the word
brother.
“Who?”
The question ghosted through Vatar’s mind.

“He’s bespoken you, hasn’t he? Answer him,” Thekila said.

Vatar’s palms were sweaty and there was a quivering in his
belly. Thekila’s calm voice was an anchor. Vatar thought back his name.
“Vatar.”

“You’re alive?”
the stranger asked.

“Yes.”
Vatar had to push himself to concentrate hard
enough.

“Where? Beyond the mountains?”

“Yes,”
Vatar answered.

“Why haven’t you contacted us before? Father is frantic.”

“Sorry. Just learning how. Who are you?”
Vatar had to
concentrate very hard now to maintain the contact.

“Orleus. Boreala’s brother.”

Ah, that explained it. He’d thought Orleus seemed familiar
somehow. Vatar’s concentration was fading. He needed to make sure of one thing
before this tenuous link broke.
“Are my children safe?”

“They are now,”
Orleus answered
. “And I’ll see
that they stay safe.”

“Thank you.”
Vatar blinked. “I’ve lost it. But
they’re safe now.”

Thekila squeezed his hand. “That’s the trouble with using
emotion to fuel your Powers. When the emotion fades, so does the Power.”

Vatar blew his breath out. “Thank you.” He turned towards
her.

She moved back, putting as much distance between them as the
bench allowed. She looked at Vatar for a long moment, then looked away. “You
never mentioned that you have children.”

Vatar’s shoulders hunched. “I never knew how to tell you . .
.”

“About your children?”

Vatar shook his head once. “About Avaza.”

She pulled a little farther away. “Your wife . . . your
‘life mate’?”

Vatar looked up, meeting her eyes. “No. Avaza was never my
life mate. She was my year mate.”

Thekila’s expression softened. “Was? She’s dead?”

“No.” Vatar was silent for a long moment. “I’d better start
at the beginning,” he said at last.

Thekila nodded sharply. “Perhaps you should. Starting with
what a year mate is.”

Vatar drew another long breath, organizing his thoughts.
“Dardani couples start as year mates. If you can live together through two
winters and still want to be together, you can declare yourselves life mates.
It’s not unusual for a couple not to stay together after the first or second
winter.

“A little over two years ago, Avaza and I became year mates.
I . . . well, I hadn’t ever . . . It was exciting for a while, but . . . I
don’t think we ever would have made it through two winters together.” Vatar
snorted. “I don’t think we’d have made it through one. But I was still in the
middle of my training as a smith. Avaza came back to Caere with me.

“Caere isn’t an easy place for a Dardani woman to live. I
didn’t fully appreciate that at the time. Caereans have very confining rules
for a woman’s behavior and Dardani women are used to being able to do and say
what they like. Avaza missed the companionship and support of her clan sisters,
too. That winter was very hard for her. I probably didn’t help her as much as I
could have. But she didn’t seem to be able to cope with anything by herself.
Not even my Aunt Castalia.

“Normally, a Dardani woman will chew uza leaf to prevent
pregnancy during those first two years. But in Caere, Avaza had to go to the
Healers for urulu weed. She said someone there had been unkind to her. I guess
she just didn’t go back.” He grimaced. “That would be like Avaza—to just avoid
the problem. So, she got pregnant. For which she blamed me.” He smiled briefly.
“Not that I’m claiming I didn’t do my part, but not alone. Avaza was always as
willing as I was.

“Anyway, by the time we returned to the plains the following
summer, we were barely talking to each other. I would have stood by her,
anyway. But she left me and returned to her own clan, which was her right. The
twins were born later that summer.”

“You don’t love her anymore?”

Vatar shook his head. “I don’t think I ever did. Not really.
I cared for her, certainly. But not enough. I was . . . dazzled by her, for a
while. Even that first winter, I felt that there was something missing from our
relationship. If I’d really loved her, I think I would have tried harder when
things got difficult between us.”

Thekila had relaxed and moved a little closer to Vatar as he
talked. “Is she pretty? Avaza?”

Vatar smiled. “Yes.”

Thekila tensed again, biting her lip. “Prettier than me?”
she asked.

Vatar turned to look her full in the face. He took in the
little spray of freckles on her upturned nose. Her slim body that was such a
contrast to Avaza’s voluptuous figure. Her eyes were beautiful, though, full of
life and spirit and intelligence. He looked directly into those eyes and did
not look away. “Yes. But Avaza is only beautiful on the outside. For her it is
a tool she uses to get what she wants. You . . . you shine from within. Your
Spirit is three times your size. And you are far more special.”

Thekila just looked back at him for a moment. Then she
smiled—the crooked smile that matched the mischief in her eyes. The smile that
made his heart skip a beat. “Why, Vatar, that may be the nicest thing a man has
ever said to me—in a roundabout way. I might almost believe you were trying to
turn my head.”

“I won’t lie to you,” Vatar said, his eyes never wavering
from hers.

Thekila’s eyes widened. She drew in a deep breath. For a
moment her eyes moved to his lips, then she looked away. “So. Tell me about
your children. What are their names?”

Vatar smiled fondly. “Zavar and Savara. They’re amazing.
This is their second winter—”

What more Vatar would have said about his twins was
interrupted by a booming voice from the hall outside.

“Thekila! Are you still here?”

Teran’s voice. Vatar hadn’t seen much of him since he’d been
brought to the infirmary. He’d be happy seeing still less. He didn’t like
Teran. He especially didn’t like the way the other man kept pulling Thekila
away, as if he had some prior claim on her time and attention.

Thekila blinked. “Hello, Teran.”

Teran looked between Vatar and Thekila and scowled. “You’re
late for supper so I came to find you.”

Thekila stood up. “It is late, isn’t it? Vatar had a
distance viewing of his son. I coached him through it.”

Vatar grabbed her hand before she could leave. “Thank you
again for helping me see that they are safe after all.”

“You’re quite welcome.” She made an ineffective attempt to
look stern. “Now that you’ve demonstrated your Powers, I think you should begin
training them.”

Vatar shuffled his legs restlessly. He might have proven
that he did have Fasallon Talents after all, but that didn’t mean he wanted
them or anything to do with them. Sky above and earth below! Think of the damage
Maktaz could do if he knew about that. “I can’t stay here. I have to go back .
. .”

Thekila raised an eyebrow. “You can’t go anywhere until the
snow melts. And what else do you have to do until then?”

Vatar didn’t have a good argument for that. He was already
getting restless. Once more of his wounds healed, it was going to get really
boring sitting around with nothing to do all winter. And—so far, at least—his
magic had been useful, not scary or evil. It would be nice to be able to
see
his family and especially his children.

Then, too, Thekila was a teacher. If she taught him, then
maybe he could find a way to get closer to her. He wanted to get much closer to
her. Preferably
without
Teran around. Vatar smiled and shrugged. “That’s
true. I’ll train until then.”

Thekila smiled. “Good. I’ll send someone to take you to your
class tomorrow.” Her smile turned mischievous. “In fact, I’ll send my brother,
Theklan. You’re at about the same level in your training. Goodnight.”