Raven's Shadow (37 page)

“I'm fine,” Tier said, and seeing that she was not going to run into his arms immediately, he continued speaking, “and much happier than I was a few minutes ago. Lehr, come here.”

Lehr had grown in the months since he'd seen him last, Tier thought, hugging him tightly. So had Jes for that matter; his oldest son was a little taller than Tier now.

“We missed you,” said Lehr, returning his hug.

“I missed you, too.” He held him for a moment more.

“Lehr killed some people,” said Jes. “He saved Mother.”

Lehr stiffened in his arms, but Tier merely hugged him tighter. “I'm sorry, son,” he said. “Killing another man is not something that should rest easily on your shoulders.”

When he stepped back at last, he looked at Seraph, who'd stayed by the open door. “Is Rinnie out there, too?”

As was her habit with him, she answered the real question he asked. “She's safe with your sister. Frost, it seems, was the only family casualty of this mess—though we were quite worried about you until just now.”

“They killed Frost?”

She nodded, “To make it look as if the both of you had walked into one of the Blighted Places. We might have believed it if a cousin of mine hadn't straightened us out.”

She hadn't looked at Myrceria, but he knew that she didn't have any cousins. She must have met another Traveler.

“It's not safe for your cousins here,” he warned.

She smiled like a wolf scenting prey. “Oh they know that,” she said. “I just hope these
solsenti
of the Secret Path choose to try their tricks again.” Her tongue lingered on “Secret Path,” making it sound childish and stupid, which, of course, it was.

“You know about the Secret Path?” he said.

“We know about the Secret Path,” said Lehr. “They're killing Travelers and stealing their Orders.”

“What?” said Tier, looking at Seraph.

She nodded. “They take them from the dying Traveler and place them in a stone that they wear on jewelry so that they can use them.”

“How did you find out so much?” he asked.

“Hennea told us,” said Jes helpfully.

“My cousin,” agreed Seraph.

“They have someone in Redern who has been watching our whole family,” said Tier.

“Not anymore,” said his wife coolly.

“Mother killed him.” Jes had found a perch on top of a small table and was playing with the vase that had occupied the table first.

Tier glanced back at Myrceria. “I told you they'd be sorry if they ever ran afoul of my wife. Myrceria, I'd like you to meet my family. My wife, Seraph; my eldest son, Jes; and my
youngest son, Lehr. Seraph, Jes, Lehr, this is Myrceria, who has helped make my captivity bearable.”

Jes nodded with the shy manner that characterized him in front of strangers, Lehr made a stiff bow, and Seraph turned on her heel and walked out the door.

Lehr's smile died, so Tier took a moment to explain to him. “She knows me too well to think I've taken a mistress after all these years—as you should. Myrceria is an ally, so be polite. I need to take a moment with your mother.”

He followed Seraph and closed the door behind him softly. Seraph was studying the stone wall of the hall as if she'd never seen stone laid upon stone before. They were safe enough, he thought. Anyone who walked down this hall was coming to see him—and at this hour that meant one of the Passerines. There was time, so he waited for her to show him what she needed from him.

“There is death magic in these stones,” she said. She didn't sound as if it bothered her.

“They've been killing people for a long time,” he said. “There's a message awaiting you in Redern telling you that I'm still alive. It should have gotten there by now.”

“Hopefully someone will direct the messenger to Alinath,” said Seraph, without looking away from the wall. She set a palm against it and said, “Once we convinced her you were alive when you left, she was most eager to hear if you'd stayed that way.”

She pushed away from the wall abruptly. When she turned toward him he thought she'd look at him at last, but her eyes caught on the floor and stayed there.

“We need to get you out of here,” she said in a low voice. “This place is a labyrinth, but Lehr found you, which was the difficult part. He'll be able to backtrack on the way out.”

“I can't leave, Seraph,” he said.

Her face came up at that.

“There's a boy about Jes's age who's going to be hurt because of me if I can't put a stop to it—and they've put some sort of hex on me anyway so I can't wander around at will.”

She reached out to touch him for the first time since she'd appeared at his door. Gripping his hands lightly, she turned his hands over to look at his wrists.

“I can break this,” she said positively after a moment. “But it will take time—and will do us no good, since as long as this boy of yours is in danger you won't leave anyway.”

He twisted his hands until he could grip hers. “Seraph,” he said. “It's all right, now.”

Her hands shook in his but he could only see the top of her head. “I thought you were dead,” she said.

She looked up, and the empress was gone, lost in a face wild with emotion. Unexpectedly he felt the lick of her magic caress his palms.

“I can't
do
that again,” she told him. “I can't lose anyone I love again.”

“You love me?” He moved his hands to her shoulders and pulled her close. She leaned against him like a tired infant.

It was the first time she'd said that to him, though he knew that she loved him with the same fierceness that she loved her children. She had been trained to maintain control, and he knew that she was uncomfortable with the strength of the emotions she felt. Because he understood her, he'd never pushed her to tell him something that he'd known full well.

He knew it would make her angry but he had to tease her. “I had to get myself kidnapped by a bunch of stupid wizards and dragged halfway across the Empire to hear that? If I'd known that's what it would take, I'd have gotten myself kidnapped twenty years ago.”

“It's not funny,” she said, stomping on his foot in her effort to get away from him.

“No, it's not,” he said, pulling her tighter. The ferocious joy of holding her when he'd been half-certain he'd never see her again kept him teasing her beyond prudence. “So why didn't you tell me you loved me before? Twenty years didn't give you enough time? Or did you only figure it out when you thought I was dead?”

“Oh, aye, if I'd have told you—you'd just have said the same back,” she said.

Her answer made no sense to him—except that she really didn't find anything amusing in the situation. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, so he tucked the laughter of her presence inside his heart and tried to understand what had upset her.

“If you had told me that you loved me,” he said carefully, “I'd have told you the same.”

“You wouldn't have meant it,” she said firmly. “Haven't you spent the last twenty years trying to make up for marrying me by being the perfect husband and father?”

Her words stung, so his were a little sharp in return. “I'd have meant it.”

“You married a woman you thought a child, married her so that you would not have to take over the bakery from Alinath and Bandor. You felt guilty.”

“Of course I did,” he agreed. “I told them we were married. I did it knowing that you were too young for marriage and that you would have to give up your magic and your people. I knew that you were frightened of rejoining the Travelers and having to take responsibility for so many lives again—but I knew that was where you felt you belonged and I kept you with me.”

“You did it to save yourself from being forced into the bakery,” Seraph said. “And that made you feel guilty. If I'd told you then that I loved you—you'd have said you loved me, too, because you wouldn't hurt my feelings.”

Abruptly Tier understood. He pulled her back to him and laughed. He started to speak, but he had to laugh again first. “Seraph,” he said. “Seraph, I was never going to be a baker—even Alinath knew that. I wanted you. And I was extremely glad that circumstances forced you to turn to me. I don't know that I loved you then—I just knew that I couldn't let you get away from me.” He stepped back so he could look into her face. “I love you, Seraph.”

He watched, delighted, as tears filled her eyes and spilled over, then he kissed her.

“I was so afraid,” she said when she could talk. “I was so afraid that we'd be too late.” She sniffed. “Plague it, Tier, my nose is running. I don't suppose you have something I can wipe it on?”

He pulled back and stripped off his overshirt and handed it to her.

“Tier,” she said, scandalized, “that is silk.”

“And we didn't pay for it. Here, blow.”

She did. He wadded up the shirt and wiped her eyes with a
clean spot. Then, the expression in his eyes holding her motionless, he tossed the shirt on the floor. He put a hand on either side of her face and kissed her, open-mouthed and hungry.

“I love you,” she whispered when he pulled his head away, breathing heavily.

He kissed the top of her head and hugged her close. “I know that,” he said. “I've always known that. Did you think that you could hide it by not saying the words? I love you, too—do you believe it now?”

 

Seraph started to answer him, but then remembered that he'd know if she lied. Did she really believe him when he said that he loved her?

Whatever he believed now, she knew she was right about the reasons he'd married her in the first place—he needed a reason to leave the bakery that would allow him to stay near enough so that he didn't feel that he was running away from his family again. But that didn't mean that he wasn't attracted to her. It didn't mean he couldn't have grown to love her.

Yes, she believed him. She started to say so, but she'd waited too long.

“You know, for an intelligent woman,” he said, exasperated, “you can be remarkably stupid.” He threw up his hands and paced away from her. “All right, all right. Maybe if I married a woman and felt I'd taken advantage of her, if she asked me, I might tell her that I loved her. Maybe I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings. You could be right about that. But why do you persist in believing that I couldn't love you even if I felt guilty about marrying you so young? Is it impossible that I've lusted after you since you stood on the steps of that inn and defied the whole lot of grown men who'd just gotten finished killing your brother?”

She tried to hide her smile, but he saw it, and it only made him angrier.

So he did what he always did when she'd pushed past that air of pleasant affability he showed the world. He dragged her back against him and kissed her again. Hot and fierce he moved his lips on hers, forcing his tongue through before she could welcome him. The stone was cold on her shoulders as
his hips settled heavily against her midriff and demonstrated quite admirably that, if nothing else, his lust was quite real.

“All right,” she said mildly, if a bit breathlessly, when he freed her mouth at last. “I believe you love me. Likely our sons and that poor woman you left with them believe you love me, too. Shall we go see?”

He laughed. “I missed you, Seraph.”

Inside Tier's cell (for that's what it was, even decked out
in luxuries befitting royalty) Seraph saw that she had been exactly right about what everyone had been doing. Lehr looked uncomfortable, Jes, inscrutable, and the woman, Myrceria, looked vaguely panicked.

“I am sorry,” said Seraph sincerely to Myrceria. “I meant no insult to you, Myrceria, but crying in front of strangers is not something I do willingly. We had all but given Tier up for dead these months past and I could hardly believe that he is here safe.”

Myrceria looked distinctly relieved at Seraph's calm manner. She got to her feet. “Of course I understand; I'll leave you, Tier, to your reunion.”

“Thank you,” said Tier. “Let me know about the Disciplining.”

She paused by the door. “I won't tell them that your family is here,” she said.

“I didn't think you would,” said Tier. “Sleep well.”

“I think I will,” she said and closed the door behind her.

Tier sat down on the bed, pulling Seraph down next to him and tucking her under his arm. Lehr sat on the other side of him, not quite touching, but close.

“So,” said Tier. “Tell me about your adventures. Not you, Seraph, I want more than the bare bones. Lehr, what happened? You thought I was dead?”

Seraph was happy to let Lehr do most of the talking. Tier seemed to think that they were all safe here for now, and she was content with his assessment. She closed her eyes and breathed in Tier's scent, felt his warmth against her side.

At the end of the story, Tier shook his head. “My love,” he said, and she saw the laughter in his eyes. “You have changed: you brought a whole Traveler clan out to Taela to rescue me. When did you learn how to be so persuasive?”

She scowled at him. “When I discovered it was more useful to have pawns to do what I wanted them to than it was to kill them all and do it myself.” Triumph flooded her when she saw that Tier wasn't absolutely certain she was joking until Lehr laughed.

Tier rolled his eyes. “Leave for a season and see what happens. The women and children don't remember the respect they owe you. What are you planning on doing with a whole clan?”

“We'd have never found a way into the palace without them,” said Seraph.

Lehr laughed. “Turns out that one of the emperors hired Travelers to work some magic for him a few generations back. He didn't want to be seen consorting with them, so he brought them in by a secret way.”

“We went under the ground,” said Jes, his voice dreamy. “Fungus hung from the sides of the tunnel like strings of melted cheese.”

“Jes found a girlfriend,” said Lehr.

Tier looked at Seraph, but it was the first she'd heard of it. Jes smiled sweetly, and said nothing.

The girls of Rongier's clan wouldn't come within a dozen yards of Jes if they could help it. “Hennea?” she said.

Lehr grinned. “I think that's how she feels about it, too—sort of shocked and dismayed, but Jes is smug.”

“Hennea is the Raven you found, right?” asked Tier.

She nodded.

“Don't worry so, Mother,” said Jes.

Tier smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Trust Jes,” he
said. “He'll be all right.” He looked over at Lehr. “How do you like being a Hunter?”

“He's always been a Hunter,” said Seraph acerbically. She wasn't certain that she wanted to hear Lehr's answer to that question. She didn't want her son to be unhappy. “He just didn't know about it.”

“The Lark of Rongier's clan has been teaching me some things that are pretty interesting,” said Lehr.

Tier reached out and patted Lehr's knee sympathetically.

“Rinnie wanted to be a Guardian,” Jes said, his gentle eyes gliding over Lehr. “She wanted to turn into a panther, like me.”

“I'll just bet she did,” said Tier. “I've missed you all.”

“We should go, Papa,” said Jes abruptly.

“We can't,” answered Seraph. “One of Tier's friends is in danger,
and
the wizards here have bespelled Tier so he can't leave the Path's domain.” She saw the Guardian rising through her son's eyes and said, “It's nothing I can't fix, but I'll need a little time to study it. In any case he won't go until his friend is out of danger. Tier, Lehr's told you our story, tell us what happened to you.”

They weren't as polite an audience as he had been, interrupting him frequently. Seraph pestered him for details about what little he recalled from the times the Path's wizards had taken him. Lehr teased him about the women who'd bathed him and braided his hair and fretted when Tier told them how he was imprisoned by magic. Jes was quiet until Tier told them about his royal visitor.

“The Emperor?” said Jes. “The Emperor visited you in your cell?”

“How did he know you were here?” asked Lehr suspiciously.

“I'm sworn to secrecy so I need to get his permission before I tell you,” said Tier. “But that's another story entirely.”

Both of the boys enjoyed Tier's explanation of how he'd begun winning over the Passerines.

Seraph shook her head. “They didn't know what they were doing, kidnapping you.”

“Well,” said Tier. “I may have outsmarted myself. Seems
Telleridge tried to set one of my boys out on a bullying mission, something that boy had done a number of times. Kissel refused and, being a straightforward sort of fellow, he told Telleridge that the reason he'd refused was because I wouldn't like it.”

“Is he the one that you were worried about?” asked Seraph.

“Myrceria told me tonight that the Masters, the Path's wizards, are organizing something they call the Disciplining.” He told them what he knew of it. “I don't think that they'll actually go after Kissel; he's got friends in high places. I think they'll take the boy that they tried to send Kissel after.”

He leaned his head back against the wall. “Seraph, you said that Bandor and the Master in Redern were shadowed.”

“Yes. Lehr and Jes both could see it.”

He inhaled. “When Phoran and I combined all the information that we had about the Path we came to some disturbing conclusions. That plague that swept through the Traveling clans twenty years ago also visited the noble houses of the Empire and when it was finished, the Emperor was dead, leaving only an infant on the throne. Also a high percentage of the followers of the Path found themselves Septs, though they might have been as many as eight or ten people away from the inheritance when the plague hit.”

“You think that there might be another one,” she said, cold chills tightening her spine. “Not just shadowed, but willingly shadowed like the Unnamed King. You think it might be this Telleridge?”

He nodded. “Phoran's sent for my old commander, the Sept of Gerant. He's on his way, now. With his military and tactical advice, Phoran hopes that he can break the Path. If we take them by surprise and Phoran is ruthless enough, he'll be right.”

“But Gerant won't be here in time to save your boy,” said Seraph softly.

“Probably not.”

“These Passerines of yours,” said Seraph thoughtfully. “They won't willingly participate in hurting another boy.”

“I don't think so,” said Tier. “Some of them, maybe, but most of them won't.”

Seraph smiled. “Then the Masters will be straining to enforce their will upon them with their stolen Bardic Orders. Tell me, Tier, if all of the Path were in the same room together, how many would there be?”

“There are about sixty Passerines,” he said. “I don't know exactly how many Raptors—I have the names of about a hundred. Perhaps double that.”

“And the wizards,” said Seraph. “You said there were five.”

“Five,” he agreed. “And a handful of apprentice and hedge-witch types.”

“We have an Owl, a Falcon, an Eagle, and two Ravens,” said Seraph. “I don't know how many ordinary wizards the clan has, but they'll come along. There are probably fifty Travelers who would love nothing more than an excuse to attack a bunch of
solsenti
who've been preying upon Travelers.”

“You are short one Owl,” said Tier. “They've done something so that my magic doesn't work on them, remember?”

Seraph frowned. She didn't like the mysterious magic that these Masters had been working on Tier. “That kind of thing works better on wizards than it does on Order-Bearers.” She tapped her fingers against her lips as she worked it out. “You said that it just keeps your magic from working on them, right?”

He nodded.

“That would be a very difficult and odd thing to do on purpose,” Seraph said. “They'd have to have something personal from everyone who is a follower to do that—blood or hair. It would be an incredibly complex spell and the power it would require . . .” She stopped when a better idea occurred to her. “I'll ask Hennea to be certain, but it sounds to me that it is more likely that their spell is imperfect and erratic. Hennea told me that they don't really know as much about the Orders as they think. Blocking the powers of an ordinary wizard would be simple if they had enough power. But in order to block the powers of an Order-Bearer they'd have to be very specific about everything they want to stop. I'll bet that some of the odder magics still come to you without a problem. Because they didn't get it right, their spell will be unraveling slowly.” She nodded because the explanation fit what she knew of magic and Tier's experience here. “Your magic didn't
work on them, because they and you know it won't work. But even that effect will fade with time.”

She smiled at him. “But even if it doesn't fade, you have already made your contributions in the number of Passerines who will take your side. If we attack them during the Disciplining, we'll have the Travelers, both warriors and wizards; our Order-Bearers; and most of the Passerines. You said that the Disciplining is mandatory for the Passerines, but not the Raptors.”

“That doesn't mean that they won't be there,” he said. “But I see where you're going. They'll all be there, the Masters who are the real danger. Once they are gone, Phoran can take his time to eliminate the rest. We'll have to talk to Phoran, though. I'll not bring a clan of Travelers into his palace without his permission if I can help it.”

A light knock sounded at the door, sending Tier to his feet, “A moment, a moment,” he said, glancing around the room, though he knew there weren't any hiding places.

“Peace,” whispered Seraph. “He won't see Jes, and—” She turned to Lehr, but couldn't see him either. “I'm going to have a talk with Brewydd about what she's teaching Lehr,” she murmured. “Go ahead and open the door, Tier. He won't see me either, not unless he's one of your wizards.” With a whisper of magic she ensured that she'd not attract any notice. Tier's visitor would see her, but he would just ignore her presence unless something called her to his attention.

Tier's eyebrows climbed and his mouth quirked with amusement—at himself, she thought. It was one thing to know everyone in your family could work magic; it was quite another to have them do it.

“Toarsen,” he said when he'd opened the door. “Come in.”

“I came as soon as I heard,” said Toarsen. “The rumor's being passed all over the Eyrie. There's going to be a Disciplining.”

“I heard,” said Tier. Seraph could see her husband weighing some decision.

“Toarsen,” he said, “if you needed to get in to see the emperor, could you? At this time of night?”

“I—I suppose I could,” Toarsen said, “but not without my brother Avar's help.” He hesitated and thrust his chin up. “But
I won't do anything that will imperil my emperor—even if he's a stupid sot more interested in the newest wine from Carek than in running his Empire.”

“Agreed,” said Tier. “What I'd like you to do is persuade your brother to get you in to see the Emperor—tell him it's urgent that you do so. Then—” Tier paused and shook his head. “Then tell Phoran you have a message for him that you can't give him in front of anyone except for Avar. The Emperor knows too much about you, my lad, to trust himself to you, but he trusts Avar. When the three of you are alone, you tell Phoran that his Bard would like an urgent word. Tell him that you and Avar will accompany him, if he doesn't mind. Tell Phoran that I have a plan, but time is of the essence.”

Toarsen stared at him. “Phoran knows about you?”

The Bard grinned wickedly. “Don't go dismissing your emperor out of hand, lad. I have a feeling that a lot of people have underestimated him, and they're about to get a rude awakening.”

Toarsen nodded slowly. “All right. I'll do it. If I can't get in, I'll come back alone.”

“Good, lad,” said Tier, patting his shoulder and shooing him out the door. He waited until the sound of Toarsen's footsteps grew faint.

“That was Toarsen, the Sept of Leheigh's younger brother,” he said, sitting back down beside Seraph. “He'll find Phoran for us.”

“You know,” muttered Seraph, who'd been working through Tier's story while he talked with the boy, “I knew that we were in trouble when all of our children were born Ordered. I should have resigned myself to fighting against another shadowed with the Emperor at my side years ago.”

Jes looked back at her impassively, but Lehr smiled. “Maybe the gods are making you make up for those wells and blights you didn't fix for all these years in one fell swoop.”

Seraph stole Tier's eye roll—she could do it when she chose. “Cheeky. Carry them for nine months, feed them, clothe them, and what do I get? Impertinence.”

“Seraph,” Tier asked, “if they want my Order—why didn't they just take it? Why wait for a year?”

“I'm not certain,” said Seraph, “but magic works better on
something you know well. I could cast a spell better on you than I could on a stranger. Their magic isn't foolproof; a lot of their stones don't work right. The year wait might be time for one of their wizards to get close to you so that their spells will succeed.”