The Spirit Gate (45 page)

“I
suppose we should. It’s
only that the harvest seems so far away.”

“A
matter of mere months, child. Don’t
be in such a hurry. Besides, we have much to think about now, much to do. Which
reminds me that I have something I must ask of you. One more thing among the
myriad requests I have already made.”

“I’m your Apprentice,” she answered him. “It’s my duty to honor
your requests.”

“Yes,
and you take your duty very seriously. It is your king that your duty must
serve now, Kassia. It is on his behalf that I make this request. It will seem
odd to you.” He took the inclination of her head as a sign of acquiescence. “Do you have anything
that once belonged to your husband or your father?”

The question did seem odd. “I . . . yes. I have a small set of
jars my father made for me, and a little stained glass window he gave me as a
gift upon my wedding.”

“I
was thinking more of something he might have kept on his person.”

She frowned. “I
have nothing. But of Shurik, I had some clothing and jewelry. A cap and a vest
I gave to my sister Asenka for her oldest boy, and an earring he wore on
worship days.”

“You
have the earring, still?”

She nodded.

“I
need it, Kassia. I need it to complete a spell ball I must construct. Might I
have it?”

She was unable to say ‘no’ and she was unable to ask what spell he meant to perform that could need
something from a male member of her family. She merely nodded again and
received her Master’s
gratitude. They went straightaway to her rooms where she found the earring and
handed it over to him.

“If
I can return it to you, I will,” he told her, then asked, “Tell
me, Kassia, how long do you think it will take for the Bishop Benedict to
arrange for another focus? How long before he begins to play with the Gherai
again?”

“I
wish I knew, Master. But I’ve
no idea of the strength of his powers or where he draws them from. He was
directing Chancellor Bogorja too, at times, though his hold there seemed weaker
than on the Khan.”

“He
must be removed from court. I only wish we could make Mishka see that.” He looked at her obliquely. “You
might convince him, Kassia.”

“I?”

“Come,
child. You forget—he
has revealed his heart to me.”

She was shaking her head vehemently. “You don’t
understand. That wasn’t
Mishka. It was someone else, working through him, much as Benedict worked through
Pater Julian.”

His eyes locked with hers; his face paled. “You have sensed this
manipulation?”

“Several
times. Mishka loves me in his fashion, I know. But it’s not the animal passion you saw that one time.
Someone moved him to behave that way.”
They
moved me
, she thought, but couldn’t say it aloud.

“Benedict?”

“I
thought not. Although, since seeing what he was able to do with Pater Julian, I’m not quite so sure he
couldn’t. I just
can’t believe he
would. It makes no sense. Surely, it’s
someone else.”

“You’ve no idea who?”

“None.”

He gazed down at the mandorla worked into the carpet in the
middle of her parlor. “Yet,
when you felt of the magic Benedict used on the Khan, you thought it was
someone else. If he could create and alien presence through the priest, perhaps
he can also do it through others. Perhaps it is one of these others you sensed
in Mishka.”

Kassia nodded, her heart suddenly chilled despite the warmth
of the day. “This
one is stronger than Pater Julian then, for the scent of Benedict wasn’t on him.” She looked up at him, feeling the beginnings of desperation. “And I suspect the
focus must be very near the king.”

Lukasha put a hand on her shoulder and looked deep into her
eyes. “Kassia,
you must convince Mishka to send Benedict away from his court.”

“Surely,
he’d listen to
you—”

“No.
I am too reminiscent of his father, may the Goddess overshadow his soul. He
resists me; he games with me. But you, Kiska, you he will listen to. Go to him
at once. Make him send Benedict away.”

She took time only to tell Zakarij and Beyla where she was
going and why, and to argue against them going with her. Then she went to her
studio and set up the spell. Her destination was the parlor to which she had
once been escorted for a meeting with Zelimir, for it was here her locator
spell revealed him to be. What it did not reveal was the unfamiliar presence of
another.

The Zofia Varyusha was clearly terrified by Kassia’s sudden appearance,
but she neither cowered nor cried out. She stood her ground at the Emperor’s side, a gleaming
silver goblet in her trembling hands. Zelimir stepped forward protectively,
then, seeing who had appeared in such a miraculous fashion, allowed both relief
and pleasure to show in his face.

“Kassia!
What’s happened?
Have you—?” He broke off, glancing over his shoulder at his wide-eyed guest.

“I’ve come with some news
about the Gherai Khan,” Kassia told him. “If
I might have a moment?”

“Of
course. Zofia,” he addressed the other young woman, “perhaps you would join your companion in the
garden?” He gestured toward the open atrium doors, through which Kassia could see
an elderly woman, in her colorful Bytomierzan garb, sitting on a stone bench in
the mellow sunshine.

After a moment of struggle with the fear that still shown in
her eyes, the other woman inclined her head and set down her goblet. At the
threshold she turned back and said to Zelimir, “I am much impressed, Your Majesty, with your great
calm in the face of your friend’s
sudden comings and goings. Perhaps someday I shall become accustomed to it.” She slipped out into the garden.

“She’s a brave woman,” Kassia commented. “That’s twice she’s seen someone appear
out of the ether and not fled.”

“She’s also exceptionally
bright and well-educated. Not at all the provincial daughter I expected. Now,
about the Gherai Khan—you’ll be pleased to know
the kites brought good news this morning. The Khan withdrew his forces from
around Zemic. Reports said the Mongols seemed in disarray.”

Relief made Kassia’s
legs wobble. She sat down on one of Zelimir’s finely embroidered couches. “I was right . . .
I had hoped.”

Zelimir shook his head. “I don’t
understand.”

“The
Khan was being manipulated, my lord, by a very strong and cunning sorcerer—the Bishop Benedict.”

The king blanched. “He . . .
he’s that
powerful?”

“He’s learned a very
potent trick, Majesty. He is able to control several people at a time by using
other willing souls to focus and direct his power.”

Michal Zelimir sat down beside her. “How can he do this?”

“He
supplies only raw power. His focal points must give that power motive and
direction. They must be fully aware of and in agreement with his purpose; they
give his wishes form.”

“He
controlled the Gherai Horde through such a willing focus?”

“He
controlled Mengli Gherai. That was enough. His focus was Pater Julian.”

Zelimir was incredulous. “The young priest? He seems so . . .
inoffensive, so meek.”

“He
believes he is doing God’s
will and work. In that belief, the meekest of men can become a tyrant.”

“Was
he perhaps attempting to control me in the same fashion? Making me feel such
animal cravings as I did?” He glanced away from her.

“Master
Lukasha suggested that, but it puzzles me. Why would Benedict want you to
desire me? He would drive us apart, not force us together.”

Zelimir rose and paced away from her. “Perhaps he reasoned
that if I disgusted you, you would refuse to champion me. If so, he reckoned
without your loyalty.”

“You
didn’t disgust
me, Mishka.” She wouldn’t
speak of what she had felt.

“No?” He turned and fixed her with a look that awoke uneasiness. “Then is there a chance
you might not wed your Aspirant?”

She rose, anger roiling. “Who speaks to me—Michal Zelimir or someone’s puppet?”

He answered anger with anger. “I am no one’s
puppet, Kassia. I know my own true feelings for you. They’re stronger than you
care to acknowledge.”

“Are
you so weak a man that you’d
jeopardize your entire kingdom to indulge them?”

“Why
do you speak to me so?”

“I
want you to understand that I am marrying my Aspirant, Lord. Though I expect by
that time I will be the Aspirant and he, a Mateu. We are alike. We share a
calling. And we love each other. I want you to understand this.”

“You
and I also share a calling, Kassia—the
protection of this people. We share our faith, a faith the Bishop Benedict
would strip from us.” When she was silent, he added softly, “I am your king, Kassia. I can command what you
refuse to offer.”

She nearly choked on the sudden constricting of her throat. “Michal Zelimir would
not do that. Perhaps you would.”

Behind his eyes a wall went up. “I would do what is necessary to protect myself and
my realm.”

“Then
banish the Bishop of Tabor from your court. Send him back to Avignon.”

“And
that will end his threat? How can you be certain?”

“I
can be certain, my lord, that if he remains here, he will continue to bedevil
you—to manipulate
you.”

“You’ll protect me from
that.”

“He’s reaching you now,
even as we argue. Through my blocking ward. I feel it. Can’t you?” She felt a bit guilty for being so willing to use Benedict as a threat.
It was not Benedict she felt.

He paled. “You
must shield me as you did before. Quickly!”

With a grim nod, she put up the shield, a graceful gesture
drawing its invisible walls close about them.

Zelimir relaxed visibly, seating himself across from her in
a beautifully lacquered chair. The passionate light in his eyes died. “Why didn’t you do that before?”

“I
was hoping,” said Kassia wearily, “you
would find it within yourself to fight him.”

“How
can I? I’m no
Mateu.”

“You
don’t need magic
to block a sorcerous intrusion. But you do need awareness . . .
and a strong will.”

Zelimir tipped his head back and sighed so deeply Kassia
thought the sound had issued from his soul. “I thought I had one, once. Now, I’m not sure.”

She went to him and knelt at his knee, her hand covering his
where it rested on the chair arm. “Show
me that will; banish Benedict.”

“Kassia,
I cannot. For one thing, I couldn’t
be certain he’d
return to Avignon. He could stop anywhere.”

“Send
him with an envoy.”

“He
could manipulate an envoy.”

“Then
surround him with Mateu.” She squeezed his hand. “It
can be done.”

He sat up and leaned toward her, bringing their faces close
together. “This
is one more case in which I must think as a king, not as a man. Banishing
Benedict would be a slap in the face of his Most High Bishop whose troops, even
now, press our western borders. My darughachi feel strongly that they would
rather have the Franks as an ally than as an enemy. The bulk of my forces are
in the southeast, prepared to stand against the Gherai. My western flank is
protected only by lightly armed garrisons. And why not? The Frankish Empire has
offered no threat.”

“Until
now.”

“Until
now. How can we defend ourselves against both Frank and Tartar?”

Kassia glanced to the garden doors, through which she could
see Zofia and her companion admiring the roses. She could sense Michal’s interest in the
young woman, and hated to make so bald a political suggestion but . . .
“If the Turks
were our allies . . .”

Following her gaze, Zelimir frowned. “Yes, there is that. I have a choice to make, it
seems. One that cannot, apparently, be made by my heart.””

“Which
would choose Zofia?”

He nodded. “Do
I follow my heart or do I choose the path that will put my lands in the least
danger? Yet, even if I take Amadiyeh to wife and the Turks as allies, there may
be war with the Franks.”

“Do
you think their Holy Father would enter into direct conflict with the
Sultanate?”

“The
Church and the Sultanate are inveterate enemies. There has already been direct
conflict between them on other fronts. I would not want Polia to become merely
a threshold for greater powers to tramp across in their desire to get at each
other. We have the misfortune of being a buffer, Kassia, between Avignon and
Byzantium. I have the misfortune of being . . . something in the
nature of a sacrifice.”

“There
are surely two sides to that coin, Michal. If the Turks also desire a buffer,
as you put it, what would they be willing to do to protect it?”

Zelimir smiled mirthlessly. “You see my dilemma.”

“What
does your heart tell you to do?”

“My
heart. My heart yearns to have a wife it can love. I cannot love Fiorella
Orsini. She is as sweet as an under-ripe olive, as pleasant as a winter morn,
as bright as an iron ingot. And she is both afraid of and repelled by me. She
would suffer my touch for the sake of her Holy Empire but she would never come
to savor it. Perhaps, I might come to have some affection for Amadiyeh. She is
a sweet girl—too
shy, perhaps and too much . . . sequestered. What the Turks
admire in a wife . . .” He shrugged, his eyes strayed to the garden doors. “Zofia already has my
affection and deep respect. I think love would follow. And she seems to find me
acceptable as a man as well as a statesman.”

He lowered his eyes to Kassia’s face and ran a caressing finger along the length
of her jaw. “With
the beautiful Zofia as my wife and my dearest Kiska as my lover, my heart’s desire would be
completely fulfilled.”

Kassia withdrew from him entirely, body and spirit. “You shame yourself, my
lord. And you insult both Zofia Varyusha and me.” She got to her feet. “I have said what I
came to say. You have a choice to make. But know this: I will move heaven and
earth to help you, shelter you and enable you to protect my people. Even
married to Zakarij, I will do that. But if you force me to submit to you, I
will be your concubine only and never your lover.”