The Vildecaz Talents: The complete set of Vildecaz Stories including Nimuar's Loss, The Deceptive Oracle and Agnith's Promise (18 page)

“Why should he bother to look?” Ninianee asked, then added, “I know he has evil intent in his heart, especially toward you. You know it, too.”

“Certainly,” said Nimuar. “But this shall not last, no matter how it may look just now. I believe than I may have hit upon the means to find Agnith’s Treasure.”

“In those books?” Ninianee asked, doing her best to keep the doubt out of her voice.

Nimuar nodded emphatically. “Once I have that, I shall be able to protect all of Vildecaz from all foes, and to undo all the harm Yulko Bihn has done, and I will be in a position to provide powerful magical frontiers for all the Duzky.”

“A wonderful accomplishment,” said Ninianee, keeping her reservations to herself.

“Oh, you need not despair, my daughter,” said Nimuar, signaling to his escort to proceed single file. “The road narrows ahead.”

“I don’t despair,” said Ninianee, knowing it was not completely truthful. “But I worry on your account.”

Nimuar offered her a gentle smile. “I wish I could persuade you that there is no need for it.”

Ninianee managed a genuine grin, “So do I, Papa; so do I.”

* * *

Doms Guyon was waiting just inside the first gate in the outer wall; he appeared to have been there for some time, for there were small leaves clinging to his knee-length dolaj, his hair was wind-blown, and his jaw was in need of shaving. He rode his own horse – a well-bred rose-grey – and he looked pleased to see Duz Nimuar, for he smiled and respected the Duz as deeply as his saddle would allow. “An honor to see you again, Nimuar of Vildecaz.”

Nimuar seemed startled by the formality of Doms’ greeting, saying only, “I am sure you are happier to see my daughter than me.”

To her inner annoyance, Ninianee felt herself blush, and she snapped, “Doms Guyon enjoys discomfiting others.”

“Not discomfiting,” Doms countered. “Amusing and perplexing, perhaps, but not discomfiting. Never say that, Ninianee.” His contrition was balanced by a suggestion of humor in his eyes.

Ninianee would not dignify his raillery with a reply, and instead sent her horse trotting briskly along the road toward the inner-wall gate. She decided she would not let Doms have the advantage of seeing her disconcerted again, so she was not paying as much attention as she might have as she entered the main courtyard and found herself face to face with Maeshar of Otsinmohr, who was practicing swordplay with four of his guests.

“Ah! Dandolmaz the Capricious must be well-inclined to me today,” Maeshar exclaimed as Ninianee drew in her chestnut and swung out of the saddle.

“May all the gods bestow their benefits upon you, Maeshar,” she said, barely respecting him and deliberately omitting his title.

“You have come back with your father – an excellent beginning to the day,” Maeshar enthused. “I will take this as an omen of improvement.”

Ninianee was unimpressed. “Your pardon, Maeshar: I must attend to my horse.”

“Surely you have grooms and stable-hands to attend to him?” suggested Maeshar.

“Of course. But my talent inclines me to the care of our stock, and the stables are my responsibility. Were that not the case, I would still prefer to look after my own animals,” she said in a manner that didn’t encourage dispute.

Maeshar concealed his irritation at her slight with a profound respect and a generous laugh. “Such an impulsive woman you are, Duzna.”

Ninianee offered no response to this remark, but took the reins of her horse and headed purposefully toward the stable; behind her she could hear the shout of greeting to Nimuar, and she felt a bit better about her behavior. She had almost reached the stable when Doms caught up with her again.

“Ninianee,” he said, not loudly but with such intensity that she stopped.

“What is it?” She was brusque with him, troubled by his affection and his concern for her.

“Be on your guard – your father’s difficulties are not over yet. I fear they may be just beginning.” He held out his hand. “Ninianee, if I can help, you have only to ask.”

Ninianee bit back a sharp retort, and for just the merest sliver of time, she wished she could bring herself to trust Doms, to believe him sincere, no matter what her prior experience of him had been. So she said only, “I hope it will not come to that.”

“And I,” said Doms, his dubiety unconcealed. “Perhaps we might have a moment for private talk later?” he suggested, knowing this wasn’t the time to tell her about the Cazboarth spies.

“Perhaps.” She urged her chestnut on, putting a little more distance between them before she dismounted in the stable-door, then led the chestnut in to be unsaddled, unbridled, and groomed. Ordinarily she would have tended to that work herself, but now she handed the chestnut over to one of the grooms, saying, “He’s not going to need walking – he’s cool enough to turn out as soon as he’s taken care of. He’ll need a little water and some new hay once he’s brushed down and the burrs combed out of his mane and tail. You can turn him out in the larger paddock in an hour or so, and give him a handful of grapes. He is fond of grapes.”

“Just so, Duzna,” said the groom, making no remark on her decision not to do anything for her horse, although he did think her inattention was unlike Ninianee.

“How has your time been spent during my absence?” Nimuar asked as he looked around the courtyard.

“Tending to entertaining our guests,” said Ninianee, a sardonic note to her remark. “And finding a place to pass the nights.”

“Just so,” Nimuar said as if he wasn’t quite certain why that should be the case.

“I’ll tell you about it later, Papa,” said Ninianee, feeling a bit tired and annoyed with herself. “Erianthee has been hostess for the morning.”

“Very good,” approved Nimuar as he handed his horse off to the grooms and wandered away toward the tower door, one of the servants tagging after him, as if to make sure he didn’t get lost.

Doms was waiting a few steps beyond the stable door. “Duzna,” he said as Ninianee emerged from the stable, “I know you’re displeased with me – ”

“Displeased? You make too much of it, Doms Guyon,” she cut in, determined to limit his opportunity to engage her attention.

“Displeased with me for good reason. Yet I want to show you that you have no reason to be suspicious of me. It is true I did not leave when I planned to, and it may be that I should have informed you that I was still here, but for what seemed good reasons, I did not.” He kept up with her as she lengthened her stride. “I am here now to be of service to you in whatever way I can.”

“Good of you,” she said as she went into the castle, half-hoping he wouldn’t follow her.

He remained two steps behind her. “You and your sister have much to deal with, given your profusion of guests.”

She sighed. “Is there any other obvious observation you would like to make, Doms Guyon?”

“You’re tired, and you’re fretting about something,” he said. “You have had a difficult few nights, and you would prefer no one knew how much you have had to deal with.” He waited a heartbeat. “Whatever your secret, I will keep it, on Agnith’s Treasure.”

She stopped walking and turned to look at him. “It has been a busy time,” she said, deliberately vaguely.

“But at least the full moon is past, and – “

”What do you mean, the full moon?” she demanded.

He answered slowly. “Only that Maeshar of Otsinmohr will not be bringing his comrades into your woods to hunt at night now that the moon is waning.” He regarded her in silence. “What did you think I meant?”

Having no good answer to give him, she turned on her heel and walked away.

* * *

“I suppose I’ll have to give them another Shadowshow,” said Erianthee as she sank down on the bench in Nimuar’s study. “We haven’t much in the way of new entertainment to offer, so they will have to be content with more of what they have seen.”

“They’ll like Shadowshows,” said Nimuar, and looked over at Ninianee, setting the volume he had been reading aside. “You could bring in your two trained horses. They can do your bidding, performing all manner of tricks. Can’t they? Do I recall correctly? They can dance and perform airs above grounds. That’s right.” This last sounded slightly puzzled, as if he were unsure of his memory. He coughed delicately. “You can do this with those two horses, can’t you?”

“Yes, Papa, I can. Now that the full moon is past.” There was a long silence that ended as Erianthee clapped her hands.

“I have it! I’ll do the Kylomotarch Cycle, the Nine Tales of the Lost Times. No one can argue with anything I present on such a theme.”

“Kylomotarch being god of forgetfulness and all things lost to memory,” said Nimuar, a little sadly. “Very clever, my child. Yes. That should hold the attention of Maeshar and his company. I will be glad when they are gone.”

“And I,” said Ninianee with real feeling.

Erianthee looked from her sister to her father. “I’ll tell Kloveon about what I intend to do. He will want to be ready in case there is difficulty with any of Maeshar’s companions.”

“You just want to tell him,” said Ninianee, her smile removing any possible sting from her observation.

“And what of Yulko Bihn?” Nimuar asked. “Will he accept such a display?”

“He could hardly refuse it, for that would make him an unappreciative guest, and that would keep him from returning,” said Ninianee. “Let me deal with him. I’ll make sure he cannot speak out against anything you do. He intends to come here again, so he cannot wholly discredit his host.”

Nimuar touched her arm, and for a long moment his eyes seemed as clear as they had been before he had lost his battle with the present Court magician. “Have a care, Ninianee. He is vindictive and vicious as a Fahnine schow-rat. I would not want you to put yourself in danger from him upon my account.”

“That woman with him is as bad as he is, if not worse,” said Erianthee.

“Has she done anything untoward?” Nimuar asked, looking dismayed.

“It’s not that,” said Erianthee. “It’s that whenever I see her, I feel as if something nasty has got on me.”

“On that we agree,” said Ninianee, thinking back to the encounter she had witnessed in the garden.

“So be circumspect, both of you,” said Nimuar. “I don’t think I could bear to lose either of you.”

“You will not lose us, Papa,” Erianthee assured him.

“I hope not. That is why I worry for you.” His face was going slack again, and his thoughts wandered. “I have my studies . . . to keep me busy. The rest I leave to you.”

“Yes, Papa, go and deal with your books. We can handle matters for you until we dine,” said Ninianee, and stepped away from him. “I’ll see that we have the spell-hounds in the antechamber to the Great Hall, so that nothing can be done without our being alerted to it. No one can object to such precautions. We have noble guests whom we must protect.”

“The spell-hounds are used to my Shadowshows, and will distinguish between what I do and what anyone else may try,” said Erianthee.

“Yes, yes,” murmured Nimuar. “Of course.”

The sisters exchange looks of exasperation and worry, and Ninianee said for them both, “Never mind, Papa. We’ll take care of things.”

“Good. Yes, good.” Nimuar opened one of the books on his trestle table and began to thumb through its pages. “The Library let me have these for my researches. Wasn’t that kind of them?”

“Yes, Papa,” the sisters said in unison.

“I will spend some time in my researches,” he said a bit distantly. “Do not fret if I do not join you for a while. I need to pursue this one line of inquiry.”

“About what, Papa?” Erianthee asked.

“About Agnith’s Treasure, of course.” He beamed at them. “I think I may have stumbled on to the means of finding it.”

Ninianee felt her heart sink. “Papa, don’t let it bother you. Please.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he said. “You worry too much.”

Erianthee tugged at Ninianee’s sleeve. “Come. Papa needs time to himself,” she said as she started toward the door.

“But – ” Ninianee protested as she watched her father open the large book he had been reading and begin thumbing through the pages.

“Come,” Erianthee repeated more forcefully. “We have arrangements to make; you said so yourself.” As she opened the door, she called to Nimuar, “We’re going, Papa. We’ll send someone for you when it’s time for the banquet.” With that she closed the door.

“What do you expect to do now?” Ninianee asked, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb Nimuar.

“I expect to have one of the spell-hounds brought to this door, to make sure no one interferes with him.” Erianthee said firmly. “And you know better than I how to set up guardians about the castle, which we must have.” She fiddled with the locket on a golden chain around her neck, a sure sign of edginess. “I can manage the Shadowshow so long as you can maintain protection for us all.”

“I will do so, certainly,” said Ninianee.

“I think Doms Guyon will help you, if you ask him.” Erianthee made this suggestion carefully, not knowing how her sister would respond.

“You may be right,” said Ninianee in a tone that meant the opposite.