Tyrant Trouble (Mudflat Magic) (34 page)

CHAPTER
20

Winter
in the Olympic Mountains. All I knew about the mountains was that in winter
they were snow-topped and postcard pretty from a distance.

Was
this strange land above or below the winter snow line, I wondered. Maybe if I
was a hiker or skier I would know how to figure that one. Wasn't. Didn't. I
didn't think I had climbed that far and guessed that I was still well within
the mild climate of the peninsula, but who knew? The climate in this country
was somewhat different from the typical Northwest, about the same temperatures
but less rain and a lot more sun. Maybe if some sort of gods wanted to hide a
place and planned to visit occasionally, they would want it sunny.

Or
maybe it was those elves living upstairs, maybe they improved the weather.

Kovat's
world was neither past nor future. I knew for certain I hadn't time-traveled
because the night sky was correct for the present time. But this country was
not visible to the outside world and therefore it had to be controlled by
magic. Okay, I grew up in Mudflat, so I accepted that when it comes to magic,
non-magic rules don't apply.

Days
shortened, the sun dropped lower in the sky, shadows lengthened, and the city
returned to its winter pattern. Cook fires moved indoors. Thin twists of smoke
rose from the hole in each roof. Light snow drifted nightly across the hills,
glittered in the sunrise and melted to brown mud by midday. There was more sun,
yes, but the temperature range was about the same as Seattle. People were
faceless shapes above scurrying rag-wrapped feet, covered in tattered shawls
from headtop to ankles.

Like
the snow, the warriors of Kovat's army drifted back, a few returning each day,
exhausted, hungry, ill. Some wore armor beneath their torn capes, others
returned dressed only in blankets and animal skins.

From
the return of the first man, we knew the truth. Until then, we pretended to
believe the lie. Now the pretending ended.

Kovat
the Slayer was dead.

The
last time I touched his chart, I felt nothing, no heartbeat, nothing. As I
couldn't explain this heartbeat phenomena and hoped I was wrong, I didn't
mention it to Tarvik. Now I knew I was right.

The
returning warriors reported, “Kovat fell dead across the banquet goblets. We
could not save him.”

“You
stood there and saw my father murdered?” Tarvik demanded.

“We
saw his death. At first we did not know the cause. But when we found all of our
weapons were stolen and hidden by Erlan's men, we knew. Erlan murdered your
father. His warriors would have slain all of us if we had not fled.”

“Then
why did Erlan return to our city before you?”

“We
could not travel together,” one of them explained. “We escaped on foot. We all
wanted to make it back here to warn you, my prince. Erlan had our horses. His
scouts pursued us. Our one chance of reaching you was to separate. We followed
circling paths to outwit his army. But they spread their scouts wide. I
couldn't make it past them.”

And
so it was with all of them. They returned to their home city, where their
families lived, possessing little more than loyalty. Their horses were gone and
whatever else they owned had been traded to wandering herders for food. To give
him credit, Tarvik was smart enough to know that loyalty was what he most
needed.

“We
will winter here and make new weapons and rebuild our army. Come spring, we
will take what horses we have and perhaps find others on our way,” Tarvik told
them.

“Why
are you rebuilding an army?” I asked him when we were alone in the castle
courtyard.

“To
go south. I will lead them.”

“How
come?”

“To
capture slaves, weapons, horses, whatever the tribes of Thunder possess. You
will chart my stars and tell me when I shall be victorious.”

“I
will not. Look at the way these people live. Not your warriors. Look at your
workers, your servants, everybody living in the huts all around us. Without
them you have no one to rule. Grow up! Your horses have stone stables and woven
blankets and full food troughs. How about treating your people as well?”

He
frowned and glared at me. “They have always lived thus. They do not starve. And
without an army, who would protect them?”

“Protect
them! What if Erlan returns while you're off playing warrior?”

“That
is right, Stargazer,” he said, his voice flat. “My first battle is with Erlan.
My father's death must be avenged. But I cannot attack Erlan without
replenishing my weapons. I will capture an outer village first. We will seize
supplies.”

“Tarvik,
you have lost possession of your mind!” I screamed, aware in some corner of my
own mind that we were both changing, Tarvik becoming more confident and more in
control of his emotions, me flying into Nance-like fits of temper.

He
leaned toward me, his face almost touching mine, the muscles of his jaw
tightening. To be the same height as Tarvik was to be same height as a field
rock. I could glare back but we both knew which of us was unmoveable.

I
fled to the temple.

This
time he didn't send a gold trinket to appease me. For three days I saw nothing
of him, heard nothing from him.

Nance
and I tried to ready the temple for increasing cold. We moved the cook fire
inside so its smoke drifted upward through the ceiling hole. I tried to
describe fireplaces and chimneys.

“If
your fire burns against the wall, does the wall turn black?” Nance asked.

“The
fire burns in this box place with it own chimney. A tube? Tunnel? I don't know,
what's a hollow pillar that goes up and through the roof? It's a chimney but I
can't explain. Anyhow, it takes the smoke out like the hole in your ceiling.”

“But
then you cannot walk around it.”

As
I was not a builder, I didn't know how to explain why a hearth and chimney
served better than a hole in the ceiling, even though I knew that if we had a
fireplace we would not constantly breathe smoke. Modern city smog was clean
compared to breathing wood smoke all day.

What
I really wanted was a metal pellet stove, capable of giving off some heat, but
I knew less about those things than I did about fireplaces. Faced with the
problems of maintaining small comforts, as well as preparing the temple for the
service of the Winter Solstice, I had little time to wonder what Tarvik was
doing.

He
no longer came banging on our gate to relieve his boredom, but as he needed to
assume his father's rule quickly, I thought the castle politics must be taking
up his time. It wasn't as though I missed the brat.

Not
that I would admit to myself or to Nance. But there were times when I found
myself standing motionless with a polishing cloth in my hand, my tasks
forgotten and my mind filled with questions about Tarvik. He smiled more easily
now than when we'd first met, teased me with his wide grin. Caught me in an
occasional hug, then laughed at me when I pushed him away. And when he was
angry, he became quiet and thoughtful, and I was less sure of where his mind
wandered.

The
boy was turning into an adult, which made him a lot harder to figure out.

And
what about me? No way was I going to spend my life here. I was fond of Nance
and I admired old Lor. No matter what I thought of their bloodlust, I respected
the loyalty the warriors gave Tarvik. But be stuck here forever?

“I
shall never make a proper templekeeper of you,” Nance scolded, grabbing the
cloth from my hand. “If you cannot polish the lamps, do you think you could
mend your cape lining?”

“Nance,
you know I can't sew. I will polish.”

“What
is it that sets you dreaming?”

“Dreaming?”

“You
should see your face, Stargazer. Your thoughts are certainly not on lamp
polishing.”

Too
much Tarvik on my mind. I needed to avoid his company. Oh right, at the moment,
he was avoiding mine. And yet, my mind kept bringing up questions. He had been
raised to be a warrior and I knew from watching the tournaments that he was
very good at fighting and insanely fearless. But he also knew how to dance and
to cook and to paint pictures. What an odd collection of skills. If I'd met him
in Seattle, would we have hit it off? Sure, I was attracted, but not insane. It
didn't matter how much fun he was, he came with a weird life filled with
impossible attitudes.

The
service of the Winter Solstice fulfilled Nance's dreams, overflowing with
chants and rituals, and ended in a ceremony blessing Tarvik as the new ruler.
He wore a fur cape against the temple's damp chill, and on his thick hair was
his crown, the narrow gold circlet encrusted with dark red garnets.

Nance
chanted until I thought Tarvik himself would fall asleep. Kneeling before the altar,
he settled into his cape until his chin rested on his high fur collar and his
eyelids drooped. After Nance chanted her last, “praise to the Daughter of the
Sun,” Tarvik hurried from the temple.

“Where's
he headed?” I asked her after the temple emptied.

“He
and his men will be up all night celebrating.”

Drinking.
Right. Okay, some male rituals are the same in every land, I guess.

“Does
he inherit his father's position?”

Their
politics were vague, not to them, but definitely to me. They didn't seem to
follow any pattern familiar to me, not that I was ever much good at history. I
did know Tarvik and Nance had the titles of prince and princess by Kovat's
decree, and Alakar, descended from the same line, was not a princess because
Kovat hadn't declared her one. And Kovat had been a warlord and hadn't used the
title of king, so nothing I'd read or seen in films quite matched the
situation.

“Tarvik
now rules his father's lands. To rule over others, he will have to defeat
enough of them to cause them to accept him as their leader.”

“Then
why the crown?”

“That's
his crown as heir. The first son of the line of Kovat always has the title of
Garnet Prince. He wears the crown for high ceremonies. Kovat's crown is much
more grand.”

“Is
that how Kovat controlled the other warlords, by defeating them? Oh. Guess
that's why he was called Kovat the Slayer.”

“Perhaps
the next great ruler will be Tarvik the Terrible,” Nance said and giggled.
“Tarvik designed his crown himself and Kovat had it made for him.”

“I
remember it. He wore it at the banquet after the games.”

Another
skill, designing patterns for metalwork. If Tarvik could give up his
destructive hobbies and keep the creative ones, and I could find a transporter
to swish us magically back to Seattle, we'd have nothing to argue about, I
thought. I'd gladly let him keep his warrior training for one day so I could
watch him march into the Decko house swinging his broadsword around. Okay, nice
dream.

“Tarvik
loves garnets,” she said. “His dress robes are always that color.”

Right,
he wore a velvet tunic, dark red in the fireglow, the night he taught me the
country dances.

The
next afternoon, with the sun a pale ghost behind the gray overcast in the
southern sky, Tarvik sent for me.

“Am
I to come also?” Nance asked the guard who stood outside our gate.

“The
prince has requested only the templekeeper called Stargazer.”

After
they escorted me to the castle gate where Tarvik waited, he dismissed his
guards and walked ahead of me outside the wall, tersely commanding me to follow.

No
explanation. Just, “Come along.”

Where
was the boy who had washed my skinned elbows with mead, then hugged and kissed
and comforted me? I'd had my share of guys who chased until they got close,
then backed off with lame excuses, the old, “I'll call you,” and never did
thing. Somehow I thought the tarbaby and I had gone past that point, that we
were friends.

We
crossed the outer courtyard and circled the wall, our feet slipping on melting
frost. I was surprised to see workmen drawing lines in the frozen ground on the
far side of the castle.

“What
are they doing?” I asked.

“What
I promised you. Building you a castle of your own.”

I
stood speechless, memory deserting me.

Tarvik
stopped and turned to face me, his yellow hair lifting in the wind and catching
in the fur collar on his cape. His eyes narrowed, with laugh lines at their
edges, and the corners of his mouth turned upward.

“Have
you forgotten so quickly, Stargazer? I told you once if you served me well, I
would build you a castle. You have saved me and my whole city. Without you,
Ober would have stolen my mind. I might have ruled as Erlan's slave or I might
have died. The wisdom of your stars exceeds the magic of Ober and even the
guidance of the Daughter. You will be the most important person in my land and
will advise me in all things.”

I
let out my breath slowly. It formed a cloud in the cold air and disappeared. My
own castle? That sounded way too permanent. I was hoping when the confusion
settled, I could convince Tarvik to take me back to the stream where we met to
see if I could find the way out.

My
outdoor skills were nil. Without his help, I would never find the exact area,
hey, one patch of forest looks just like another patch of forest which is
probably why hikers are always getting lost. The entry had to be somewhere near
the place where I had first seen him.

Tarvik
folded his hand around mine, lifted my hand, turned it over and put a small
leather pouch in my palm. It was closed with knotted leather strings.

“What's
this?”

“Something
I put together for you.”

The
strings that closed the pouch were tightly knotted.

“Have
we had an argument?”

“I
hope not.”

“Then
why the gift?”