Chapter Thirty-Five

Thera slitted open her eyes to the glow of blurred, amber light. What?

“Thera! Are you well?”

“Eiryana—where”? Thera felt the weight and contours of her own human form. “I’m in my body—how?”

“I sent you back. The bond between you and your physical body drew you safely.” She added in wry voice, “you did not even wake.”

Thera’s tongue felt thick in her mouth. “Hunn.” Thera snorted a small laugh. “I didn’t know we could do that.”

“Nor I.”

“I am curiously light-headed. And you? Where are you?

“Near. A fine roosting tree on the promontory.”

“Thera!” A different voice, a human voice, dinned in her ear while a hand shook her shoulder. “Thera.”

Thera opened her eyes fully—I’m on a bed, not the planks of the north tower. The amber glow resolved itself into the lamp at the corner of the infirmary, a dark shadow into the Healing Mistress’ face. “Rozalda. Blessings,” Thera swallowed, “so thirsty.”

Healing Mistress Rozalda looked weary, though the crease in her brow smoothed somewhat as Thera spoke. She disappeared from Thera’s view to reappear with a water dipper.

“Here.” As Rozalda raised her shoulders and helped her to drink, Thera heard a murmuring of voices. “Yes,” Rozalda tossed over her shoulder, “she’s awake.”

Egrit and Sirra Alaine loomed into Thera’s line of sight. Their faces were worried and grim respectively.

“I’ve been home,” Thera said, “I have such things to tell you!”

Rozalda motioned to Egrit and the girl plumped the pillows behind Thera’s back, propping her up in the bed. Thera bore Egrit’s fussing behind her with pricklings of impatience. To her surprise, she read disapproval in those about her.

“Eiryana, they are angry with me—after all we’ve done!”

Eiryana’s response in her mind was sympathetic.

Rozalda, sitting very straight, hands clasped tightly in her lap, spoke first. “You have been in the deepest trance I have ever witnessed! Hardly breathing and impossible to arouse. It was Enid who found you at noontide when she went on watch. She thought you were dead. You’ve lain here, almost lifeless, a full day. It is near midnight now.”

“I had to see home,” Thera said. “I thought I would be back before anyone even knew I was gone. You shouldn’t worry about me.” Thera eyed them. “Blessings be! I am no longer a child to be coddled so. I know what I am doing.”

Egrit looked unhappy. Alaine drew a quick breath—then gusted it out after a quick look and shake of the head from Rozalda. “Now,” Rozalda grasped Thera’s wrist and shook it. “Thera, all here are pledged to defend you; you are the Salvai. You have won their hearts as well as their loyalty—you should not abuse them so. How could any of us be sure this was a self-induced trance, when trance it has finally proved to be? How could we know what was happening to you, wherever you had gone or been taken? You did not see Enid’s face when she carried you down here after finding you on the north tower. Or Alba and the others, who have been in and out here all day, helpless to know what to do.”

Thera stared.

“Read past their anger,” came Eiryana’s voice.

Thera folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “No,” she sent back.”They are so wise and sure. They will be sorry when they realize how they’ve wronged us.”

“Thera. Do.”

Clenching her jaw on her own anger, she slipped into her unique way of reading, and studied her friends’ energies. She sent Eiryana a terse acknowledgement. “Yes. I see.”

“And your anger?”

“Eiryana!”

“Do.”

Goaded, Thera read her own emotions, quick as if dipping her finger into simmering water.

“All right,” she acknowledged. “Much of my temper stems from shame at worrying them so. Blessings be. I may now be ‘flying with eagles,’ as the Maiya said I would, but all this love tethers me”.

Eiryana’s warm chuckle in her mind soothed the last of her ill mood. “All life is interwoven, Thera. They are learning too.”

Thera reached her hand, touching Sirra Alaine’s sleeve. “I’m sorry to have grieved you.”

Alaine’s rough hand gripped Thera’s painfully. “Next time, trust us. We will ward you. Promise me, as Salvai.” Her throat moved as if swallowing unspoken words.

Thera nodded solemnly.

Egrit swiped at her eyes with a corner of her apron. “I’ll get us tea,” she said, walking briskly to the fire.

The Healing Mistress leaned forward and tapped Thera on the leg. “Do not think the only enemies your father has are the Memteth, Thera. Among the royal houses there are those who fear and loathe Duke Leon.”

“Who? Why would…?”

“Any one of many powerful men and women who influence the court.” Rozalda interjected. “Men and women, who live and die for favors and influence, equate honesty with stupidity. Until now, they have allowed that the stalwart ArNarone clan is well enough placed in its remote northern holding. It is fortunate, too, that the king, though generally a fickle man, always speaks warmly of the ArNarone, and especially of your father who is his cousin’s son.”

Rozalda leaned back in her chair. “We are never complacent, however. Ours is a king surrounded with many clever and corrupt courtiers.” She paused, staring at the lantern, her gaze unfocused. “His idea, I think, is to retain those most dangerous near him, at court, where he can keep his eye on them. Though the king keeps his powerful houses on tight leash, ArNarone has enjoyed a kind of negligent indulgence. But now,” Rozalda returned her gaze to Thera, “with this new alliance of ArNarone with the Ttamarini—your father has disturbed the balance of power.”

“Rozalda,” Thera whispered, “how do you know all this?”

“As I told you before, Ainise and her brother belong to one of the minor houses that happen to be in the king’s favor. Her brother, however, with his unfortunate love of gaming has managed to impoverish the estates. Ainise made a place for herself here, serving Salvai Keiris.”

“Did he gamble away even Ainise’s bride price then?” asked Thera. “It is surprising she is not more bitter than she is.”

“Actually she bears great affection for her brother, and he for her. He manages to maintain a position, of sorts, at court. He has his privileges of rank still, and earns his keep ferreting out secrets to sell. He regularly sends court gossip to Ainise. As a result we are amazingly well informed.”

“This is all so—disgusting,” Thera raked her hair back. Her scalp felt twitchy with irritation. Like Farnash’s pelt when he is disturbed, Thera thought. “Well I have no wish to ever go to court. We don’t need Bole, or Cythia, or any of them.” She tilted her chin. “Hah! We defeated the Memteth without help from either the King of Bole, or Cythia.” Thera smiled, “And we have alliance with the Ttamarini now.”

Rozalda’s brow knit and she sighed, shaking her head. “The King of Bole, Thera, is a jealous and acquisitive man who handles his snarling pack of hounds with a firm hand and a tight leash. Do not assume he is unconcerned with what happens even in the small and remote parts of his kingdom.

“We have learned that Duke Perrod of Cythia is sending his son and Heir, Ambrauld, by ship to Allenholme. This is possibly at the king’s bidding. The Cythian Heir’s official position is that of emissary, but of course we know his purpose is to assess this alliance with the Ttamarini. What is more disturbing is that a Besteri accompanies the Heir.”

“What is a Besteri?” asked Thera.

“Pagh!” Sirra Alaine spat the word. “I know of them. They be vicious as were-weasels and just as sly.”

Rozalda nodded. “They are an obscure cult from the far south. They are magicians of sorts—seemingly their gift is for knowing a thing. Their craft is for hire. Some few Besteri have settled in Cythia. One called Willestar has found favor with the Cythian Duke.” Rozalda frowned, “It is said that a Besteri, like most magi, use the knowing only in order to compel.”

“Aye,” muttered Alaine. “Perverse.”

Thera rubbed her arms as a chill riffed over her skin.

The gleaming white’s of Egrit’s eyes showed as she glanced from the Healing Mistress, to Alain, to Thera. “Please,” she said, her soft voice seeming to break the chill spell, “I would like to hear now what happened to Lady Thera.”