"He did what?" the Keeper exploded from her desk, jumping to her feet only moments after taking her seat. Amelyn, her face pale, stepped back from the diminutive Keeper, rightfully fearing to be singled out by the Keeper's wrath for the bad news. The Keeper was notorious for punishing the messengers who were bearing bad news, and because of that, nobody wanted to be the one to break things to her. Not even members of the Council could escape such wrath.
The Keeper was in a foul mood. Her appointment at the court of King Erick had not gone well. Erick had men of learning around him to explain to him what the light from the Tower had been, and the legends of what it meant, and now he was starting to interfere with their plans. Erick wanted Tarrin, and he wanted him now. It was all the Keeper could do to remind the young, brash king, only two years on his throne, that the treaties between the Tower and the Crown could not be broken, nor could they be used to force the katzh-dashi to hand over their young charge. It had turned into a shouting match, much to the shock of the court, a shouting match where truly ugly threats of invasion and magical retribution flew between the Keeper and the young king freely. The Keeper had never liked Erick. He was a spoiled wastrel whose only talent was finding men capable enough to run the kingdom in his stead, while he spent vast amounts of the kingdom's money on horses, palaces, and debauched luxuries. He was lazy and hedonistic, interested only in his fortunes, his possessions, and his power as king. He was such a disappointment coming from the line of Aralon, which had put a long succession of outstanding kings and queens on the Lion Throne of Sulasia for six hundred years. Erick represented to the Keeper the end of the Aralon dynasty, and the noble houses of Sulasia were already beginning to jockey for position to succeed them. The nobles were as dissatisfied with Erick as the Keeper was, and the Keeper didn't forsee him surviving long on the throne. Erick wasn't stupid enough to understand this, and had managed to surround himself with competent people who were paid more than other noble houses could match, money that ensured their loyalty and his continued reign. Erick was mad for power, but only for power that he didn't have to dirty his own hands to acquire. That made Tarrin and the pending events very appealing to him.
What King wouldn't jump at the chance to gain the powers of a God?
It was already starting to look ugly. Reports from the Tower in Sharadar had arrived, and the news was grim. The Mage-King of Zakkar had already begun to mass his impressive array of army and navy, all reinforced by thousands of Warmages. The Emperor of Arak, the mightiest nation on the face of the world, was beginning to call in his legions from their war with the empire of Godan, which was itself a mighty kingdom on the continent of Godan-Nyr and Arak 's longest and most hated enemy. Nyr, the smallest of the Three Empires of Middle World, had remained carefully neutral through their larger neighbor's century-long war, but now it was massing its armies. Even among the smaller kingdoms of the West, there was activity. Arkis was building its own legions, and the mountain kingdom of Daltochan had closed its borders. Draconian knights had begun attacking Dal mining caravans around the Petal Lakes, and the Ungardt had begun to call in their warships.
It told Myriam Lar much. Most of those nations were not surprising to see preparing, but others were. The Ungardt had a dislike of magic, yet they seemed to know what was beginning to come to pass. So did Daltochan, but the Dals were a strange people, taciturn and introverted, so it was hard to know what was going on on the high plateaus of their mountain nation. But Arak, Zakkar, Godan, Nyr, Arkis, they all had mages in close attendance to the kings and emperors that ruled those kingdoms, and what had happened the night of the sign had sent magical shockwaves across the world that nobody who could command magic could miss.
It had begun. There was no disputing that now. And Tarrin was the key.
The world would descend into a war which would rival the titanic struggle against the Demons five thousand years before, a war to rival the Great Blood War. And it would be fought over the possession of one man, a simple young farmboy from Aldreth.
Tarrin was a Mi'Shara, a Man Who Once Was, and he was the key. Not since the Ancients walked the earth had someone of his raw, unprecendented power graced the Tower. Weavespinner, Were-cat, he fulfilled all the requirements set forth in the Book of Ages, before that ancient tome had disappeared. He was of noble blood, but his blood was not human. Nobody understood exactly what the term Mi'Shara meant, but it was a term from the Old Tongue that translated to mean He Who Was, or He Who Once Was. Gender irregularities in the Old Tongue could also allow it to be translated to mean She Who Was, or She Who Once Was as well, depending on the context in which the word was used. The strange thing was that the Book of Ages made no reference to his title, only to his requirements. He would be a non-human of noble blood, who had the power to wield Sorcery. Such beings were exceedingly rare. The Sha'Kar, the vanished race that had occupied the Tower with the Ancients, had been the only non-human race to demonstrate an aptitude for Sorcery. In a thousand years of searching, only two others had been found. Allia and Keritanima.
Nobody understood why these rare individuals were termed Mi'Shara. Nobody understood what "Once Was" meant, because nothing ever said what they had once been. All they had to work with was the passage in the Book of Ages that described them, nonhumans of noble blood who could wield Sorcery. Tarrin, however, did seem to fit that term better than his female companions, because he once was human.
What was even stranger was that it was written that the Mi'Shara were only the ones with the best chance of achieving the ultimate goal. Anyone who knew where to go and what to do could also reach the ultimate objective. That meant that half of the world would want to capture Mi'Shara, and Tarrin specifically, to get it for them. The other half would be seeking to kill Tarrin and all Mi'Shara to prevent them from getting it first.
It would have been much easier if it was written that only Mi'Shara could reach it. That would make it easier for the Tower to protect their assets from capture. It was much easier to protect someone from kidnapping than it was to protect someone from being killed.
The Book of Ages. If only she could hold that ancient, much treasured tome, if only once. In that book was written the entire history of the world up to the Breaking, the last known copy of the book that had once been known as Denthar's Compendium. The only book of ancient history that was not written in the indecipherable langauge of the Sha'Kar, for it had been scribed by the priests of Denthar, the god of knowledge and lore. All of the books had been destroyed during the Breaking, except for one. And that had been found in a trunk in a noble's manor just after the Sorcerers returned to the Tower. Very little was known of the world before the Breaking, a time known as the Age of Power, when magic was so prevelant that the common farmer often utilized enchanted tools, and the most average layman knew a cantrip or two. Before the Weave was torn. Much ground had they regained since that horrible time, both the Sorcerers and the world. The Weave had almost completely mended itself, though there were still a few places in the world where the Weave had not grown back. Magic-dead areas, called deadzones, peppered the Known World, and were often populated by people who had gotten on the bad side of a Wizard. Magic had returned to the world, but not as Sorcerers this time around. It was the Wizards who were the most common type of magician, mainly because so many Sorcerers had been killed in the Breaking, and unlike Wizardy, Sorcery was an inherited power rather than a learned skill.
The deaths of so many Sorcerers had almost scoured the gift from the world, and the diluted powers of the less gifted children who remained weakened considerably. The Ancients were always careful to pair their most powerful members, so that their children would have the gift on both sides of their family, and be even stronger. Such selective breeding vanished in the Breaking, and the inherited gift thinned through the years, until the Sorcerers returned to the Tower and again began to carefully nurture the inherited power in their members. A selective breeding program had yet to be initiated, mainly because the Council had not yet garnered enough favor among the katzh-dashi for the idea. Times had changed, and the culture had changed. What the Ancients had done was no longer acceptable to the modern man, especially among the female katzh-dashi. But in its own way, it had begun again. Katzh-dashi did tend to marry within the order, if only because only another Sorcerer understood the rigors and demands of Sorcery. And the children of these internal unions almost always displayed aptitude in the gift. Amelyn was the child of just such a union. She had been born and raised on the grounds, and the Tower and the katzh-dashi was all she knew and all she had ever wanted. And she was powerful, ranking among the most powerful of the katzh-dashi.
But even her power seemed insignificant compared to Tarrin. He could somehow tap directly into a Conduit, and that awesome raw power would try to flow into him. He couldn't control it. The Keeper couldn't see how anyone could. The power of a Conduit was all seven Spheres, just like a strand, and that meant that Tarrin was being filled with the power of High Sorcery. The Sorcerers could only handle High Sorcery in circles, where the incredible demand and strain was spread out among a group. But Tarrin had the raw power to be able to draw on High Sorcery alone. And it was simply more power than even his considerable ability could control. Circles, wielding High Sorcery, even they would not attempt to tap directly into a Conduit. They would only try to draw the sphere of Confluence from strands. The power of a Conduit was even more than a circle could control, and yet this young farmboy from a forgotten corner of Sulasia could tap directly into that awesome power, and he could do it alone.
But being able to access it, and being able to control it were two different animals.
It was a complicated problem, something that had occupied the Council's attention the entire day before. They were already working on how they could help him overcome his problem, somehow resist the flood of High Sorcery and be able to work with normal flows and weaves. They had wanted to study him, but the Keeper wouldn't be there to help out. She had spent all day at court.
And now Amelyn bursts into her office, and tells her that Tarrin refuses to accept any more training!
"He will not come," she said in a quivering voice. "He told me to tell you that he won't learn any more or do as we say until we lower the Ward and let him off the grounds." She swallowed. "He made it clear that anyone trying to force him to do anything does so at his or her own peril."
"I will not tolerate rebellion in my own Tower!" The Keeper said in an absolute explosion of fury. "That boy will learn now just who holds his leash, I swear it!"
"Keeper!" Amelyn gasped. "Tarrin isn't entirely stable! If you push him, he'll go mad, and then what use will he be to us?"
"I don't care," she snapped. "I want Tarrin back in class, and I want it now. He has got to be ready, and this new problem of his is going to jeopardize things as it is. We absolutely cannot allow any delays."
"But if he goes mad?"
"Then we'll just have to find a way to reverse it," she snapped. "We don't have any more time, Amelyn! Don't you understand that? We have to take risks now!"
"I think the risk you're talking about is too great," she said. "All he wants is to be allowed off the grounds to visit his family. That is not an outrageous demand."
"It is," she said grimly. "I just came back from court, Amelyn, and King Erick knows about Tarrin. He demanded that we hand him over to him. Now more than ever, we have to protect him, because Erick's not the only one that's going to come after him. If someone else takes him, or someone kills him, then where will that leave us? Or Sulasia? Or the world? The Wikuni and the Selani don't have his power, Amelyn. I don't know if they can do it. Even if I have to keep him chained in a cell, we're keeping our hands on that boy. And when the time comes, we'll release him to do what must be done."
Amelyn looked about to say something, but the door to her office burst open, and an infuriated Darvon marched in. He looked completely enraged, and the Keeper inwardly groaned. Darvon was almost too stubborn to handle, and it looked like he wasn't about to be put off by anything. "Keeper, we will talk, now," he said hotly. "We're going to have a little talk about Tarrin."
Now what? "What did he do now?" she demanded irritably.
"Tarrin told me that you're keeping him trapped on the grounds," he said. "He also told me that he has refused to do anything else until he is granted the same rights as the other Initiates."
"He's being held on the grounds for his own safety, Darvon," the Keeper said calmly, but it was even clear to him that her voice was highly strained. "Someone with considerable resources at his disposal is trying to kill him."
"Yes, and I think you know all about that," Darvon retorted. "What you're doing to him is wrong. He has a phobia against being caged. I think you know that too. Well, he told me that he's taken as much as he can stand with being caged on the grounds. If you don't let him out, he's going to end up hurting someone."
"He'll just have to endure it, Darvon," she told him. "It's much too dangerous for him to be outside of our protection."
"And what of his decision to strike against you?"
"That won't last long," she said in a sudden growling voice.
"So, you would oppress your own people, when all they want is to be treated like everyone else?" he asked pointedly.
"He's not everyone else!" she said in sudden fury. "He's a Were-cat, and he's as dangerous to the people of Suld as he is in danger! He stays on the grounds, because it keeps him safe, and it keeps Suld safe from him!"
Darvon gave her a calm look. "I see," he said. "Then that is your choice."
"You better believe that it's my choice," she said with a hot look.
"Fine. I should tell you, then, that we have long considered Tarrin and Allia to be our own. And not long ago, I decided that they have indeed earned the right to have their names on our rolls. I have Knighted them both." The Keeper's expression went from anger to horror in the blink of an eye. "Because Tarrin feels himself treated unjustly, he has decided on a non-violent means to solve his problem. As Lord General, I fully support the actions of my Knight. Furthermore, our code demands we do the same." He said that last with a slight, evil little smile. "We are All One Under Karas. So, the Knights hereby withdraw their support from the Tower and the katzh-dashi until such time that our Knight is treated with the respect due to his station. All Knights will remain on the grounds or in the chapterhouse, and all Knights in the field are going to be recalled."
"You can't do that!" the Keeper gasped. "Tarrin's an Initiate, bound by the oaths of the katzh-dashi! He can't take the Oaths of the Spurs as well!"
"He didn't," Darvon said with a wicked smirk. "He is Knight by title only. We lay no claim on his services, but his station does grant him the right to our support. So, you can keep trying to control him, but know that the Knights will fight you every step of the way."
"You fool!" she said explosively. "Do you have any idea what you are doing? What you're jeopardizing?"
"Oh, am I throwing sand into the plans of the katzh-dashi?" he asked mildly. "And what plans would those be?"
The Keeper gave him a furious look. "What I'm about to say goes no further than this room," she told the Lord General.
"Keeper, is it wise-" Amelyn began, but the Keeper cut her off.
"Amelyn, if Erick knows, then Darvon won't be long in finding out," she said dismissively. "And perhaps Darvon can help us get Tarrin back under control."
"What are you talking about?" Darvon asked suspiciously.
"Sit down, Darvon," the Keeper said, motioning at one of the chairs in front of her desk. She sat down as he did, and then she calmly explained the entire situation to him.
Darvon's eyes rose, widened, and more than once they gaped at her in shock. But it was the truth, the real truth, and he knew it.
And it made his blood run cold.
After he regained his composure. "I may understand why it's necessary, but you have a very edgy Were-cat on your hands, Keeper. It would be wise to give in to his demand. Tarrin is unbelievably stubborn, and if you push, he'll just dig in his heels and won't budge. I think we can reach a compromise that gives him his freedom while still keeping him protected."
"I'm listening," the Keeper said after a moment.
Bandit was the name that Keritanima had given to her cat, and he had a personality to match that title. He was michievious, fearless, and he absolutely would not mind the Wikuni at all. He held himself aloof from the Wikuni princess, and his imperious manner irritated her to no end. The cat should know, after all, that it was being addressed by royalty. Entire armies would obey her commands, and she was one of the most important women in the world. The very power of life and death was being held by her, capable to use as she saw fit, and the blasted cat still had the nerve to claw up her curtains, tear up her bedding, and use her favorite chair for a scratching post.
More than once she considered passing sentence on the rebellious feline for crimes against upholstery, and have Binter execute it on the spot. But she needed it. And as if it could understand how important it was, it did whatever it wanted with absolute impugnity. But then again, cats always did that anyway. It wasn't like it was intelligent or anything. It just had no idea who it was dealing with.
And thus began the brief but memorable war between Keritanima and Bandit. But the High Princess of Wikuna discovered, to her chagrin, that the the cat was even more stubborn than she was. No matter what punishment she used, the cat simply would not get it through its thick skull that what it was doing wasn't acceptable behavior. Even getting a pitcher of water dumped on it wasn't enough to keep it from tearing up her curtains. That was when Keritanima resorted to Sorcery. After discovering that Bandit didn't like loud noises, she wove together a weave that created a loud bang every time she caught him doing something that he wasn't supposed to be doing. It was a loud noise, it went everywhere, and it soon had all the Initiates on her floor complaining.
And it perfectly concealed her conversations with Miranda when she needed to speak to the pretty little mink Wikuni about things she didn't want Jervis to know. She had no doubt that Jervis had his pet priests using spells to eavesdrop on them. After several ear-shattering explosions, however, she doubted that he'd be listening for long.
Miranda was sitting on the bed behind the Princess, brushing out her hair with smooth, even strokes. Miranda was a cutie, by any race's standards. With high, wide, impish cheeks and a pink button-nose, her animal features enhanced a more humanoid face than normal Wikuni. Miranda's muzzle was very short, and her mouth was much more humanlike. Her white fur almost passed as skin, and she had a very thick head of blond hair that cascaded down her back like a fur cape. She parted it to the side, and a huge plump of blond hair stood over her eyes and face, which bobbed and swayed every time she moved her head. Her round mink ears popped out from that thick head of hair, just making her look cuter. Miranda was very cute, very sweet, and she seemed very innocent. And she was a very good actress. Miranda had been personally trained by Keritanima in all things underhanded, and Miranda was as smart as she was pretty. She was very good.
After giving any eavesdroppers an earful, Keritanima sat calmly as Miranda gave her the daily report. Rumors and innuendos passed from Miranda's lips as often as things brought in by the wide network of spies that Miranda had helped set up, workers and servants as well as people specifically hired from the city and brought in to root out information. Keritanima had a very comprehensive list of all the freelancers that worked in Suld, and several of them were now on her payroll. She had agents at court, in the King's bedchamber, and three of them in the Cathedral of Karas. She had several more scattered through the noble villas, and the whisperings of the nobles found their way onto her desk, in triplicate. If she really wanted to know, she could find out what the Duchess of Ultern had for breakfast that morning.
And by now, Jervis had just as extensive an operation. Jervis had a larger budget, and he didn't have to work while keeping his identity a secret. She had no doubt that Jervis was receiving all the information she was, and perhaps a little bit more. Jervis had access to the communications of the priests of the Wikuni, something that Keritanima didn't enjoy.
So she managed to buy off a member of Jervis' staff. Now a copy of everything that crossed the rabbit Wikuni's desk ended up on her own as well.
Keritanima listened calmly as the mink Wikuni brushed her hair. Even Miranda's voice was cute, a high yet rich voice that seemed to go perfectly with her deceptive appearance. The focus of her report was the meeting, or more to the point, the shouting match, between the Keeper and King Erick Alaron. "My sources tell me that they really got after one another," she continued to her employer. "Erick threatened to use his army to overrun the Tower, and the Keeper threatened to bury Suld in a blizzard. And all of it was over Tarrin."
"Did you find out why?"
"Not yet," she replied. "All I know right now is that Erick knows something about Tarrin, and that it makes him very, very important. Erick demanded that the Keeper hand him over to the Crown. It's not something that Erick's talked about in open court, and it's been hard information to come by. I bought one of Erick's mistresses last week, and I arranged it so she's spending tonight with him. She'll drag it out of him. She's very good at that. I'll have a detailed report for you tomorrow at lunchtime."
"Very good," Keritanima replied calmly.
"You know, you should think of starting to wear your hair up," Miranda told her, grabbing two handfuls and lifting it up from her shoulders. "It's getting long. Maybe swept over to one side, with a gold chain woven into it. Yes, that would look pretty."
"You think so?"
"Yes, it would make you look more mature," Miranda told her.
"Why don't we try it?" she asked. "Didn't we bring some chains?"
"I have some in my room," she assured her.
Something told him that today was going to be rather eventful.
Tarrin pulled his red Inititate shirt over his head, flexing his paws absently after pulling the tail down to his trousers, listening to the sounds of activity coming from Allia's room. He knew that it would be eventful because the Council had had almost a full day to mull over Tarrin's demands, and he was positive that they'd return with an answer for him. It would have to come before class, he knew. Tarrin's instincts told him that time was starting to become a precious commodity, and they wouldn't wait around. He wasn't quite sure how he knew that, but he did.
Alot of things had been weird to him since yesterday. Tarrin had finally calmed down over the achievement of his childhood dream, and it also allowed him to explore the strange feelings he had towards the Goddess. She had been right, he had never been an overly religious person. The concept of loving a deity was indeed new and strange to him, but it was something that he couldn't deny in himself. Something about the Goddess had touched him on a very deep level, on top of the genuine affection and trust he felt in her. She had always spoken plainly to him. She didn't treat him like a child, and she had made it clear from the beginning what she expected of him and what she wanted from him. Tarrin's Were-cat nature seemed to accept that kind of treatment willingly. Better an honest enemy than a dishonest friend. It was why Jesmind had gone off the deep end after he left her, because she thought that he lied to her, and that shocked her values to the core. Tarrin was more cynical and, in his own way, more worldly than his fiery bond-mother. Jesmind was born Were, and her preconceptions of the world had been set for her. She lived in a very small world full of others that shared those values, and no matter what she said, her ability to function in the human world wasn't as good as she thought. Jesmind would accept whatever anyone said to her as the truth, until it was obvious that he lied. And then she would punish the liar, if she could catch him. Tarrin wasn't quite as trusting as Jesmind.
That made him approach the Goddess from a defensive standpoint, and she had managed to worm her way through his defense and into his heart. But, being a Goddess, Tarrin realized that she knew exactly what to say to manage to pull that off. But his trust in her, his faith, wouldn't let him believe that she was using him. He could tell that she wanted something from him, something that she hadn't said yet, but she had also made that clear, nearly from the beginning. If he asked her straight out if she wanted him to do something for her, she would answer honestly. Tarrin could respect that.
But over it all, the towering love that he felt in her presence, both from her and from him towards her, told him beyond anything that his heart had been won over. She had indeed got herself another follower. But the strange thing was that he had no idea quite how to take it. He understood what gods were, but the Goddess seemed to break all the molds. She wasn't a distant, all-powerful voice that was to be obeyed blindly. She was more like a person than a god, with her own personality, and even a quirky sense of humor. Senses of humor weren't often associated with divine beings, and that sense of humor made her seem more real than if she were to manifest her true power before his eyes. Tarrin felt a very powerful personal connection to the Goddess, and he wasn't sure if that was how she wanted him to feel towards her or not. But that was tough. That was the way he felt, and he wasn't about to change it.
And something told him that that suited the Goddess just fine.
She'd captured him the very first time she talked to him, he realized. When she gave him permission to lie, when she explained what she expected from him, she had him. That planted a deep seed of trust in him that had bloomed into love and sincere faith. She could very well have demanded him to obey her every command, and he would have been bound by both honor and his Were need for honesty to obey. But she allowed him to make his own choices, even allowed him to lie. That had been it. Everything else had just been waiting around for him to make that one simple conclusion.
Tarrin sat down on the bed calmly, holding up the shaeram that graced his neck, studying it. Its black steel shimmered in the light of the cloudy morning pouring through his window. It was the symbol of the katzh-dashi, but it was also the holy symbol of the Goddess, and its design held many meanings. Dolanna had explained them to him once, long ago. But it was what the Goddess had said to him that had been gnawing at him since last night, a night spent reading a book on theology he got from the library. The shaeram is for her, just as yours is for you and the ivory one is for Allia.
The Keeper had given him this shaeram, and alot of the hostility he felt for her was directly attributed to it. Yet the Goddess said it had been for him. And the other two had been direct presents from the Goddess to Allia and Keritanima.
Did the Goddess make the Keeper give him the amulet? Just who had placed the weave on it that kept it from coming off his neck?
Sometimes the Goddess seemed to be listening, and sometimes she didn't. He knew that she could hear his thoughts. She called it listening to his heart, but it was more like listening to his head. He wondered if he could incite her to listen to him.
"Goddess?" he called tentatively. "Are you there?"
Only because you'd be very disappointed if I weren't, she answered impishly. Make it quick, kitten, you have no idea how busy I am at the moment.
"What do you mean by that?"
Your faith is very tentative, she replied calmly. If I weren't to answer, you'd start thinking that what you feel, and what you think I feel for you, are wrong. I can't answer you all the time, kitten, but when it really matters, I'll be here. You were wondering who chained you to that necklace, weren't you? Tarrin didn't answer, and he suddenly felt very guilty for even thinking of accusing the Goddess. Well, I know this will sting, my kitten, but though I didn't place the weave, I fully support it being there. You can't lose that amulet, Tarrin. It's absolutely imperative that you keep it, and it was the only way to make sure that nobody could take it from you. So I nudged the Council into making sure that it won't come off. That keeps you from losing it, and it keeps others from taking it off of you.
"If you can nudge the Council, why don't you nudge them into stopping driving me crazy?"
Things aren't that easy, my kitten, she said. We don't take direct actions like that. You know that. I'm the patron goddess of the order, but that doesn't mean that they all do what I say all the time. The katzh-dashi have duties to perform, the same as the Knights. So long as those duties are being performed satisfactorily, I really don't have the right to intervene. I don't like a great deal of what goes on in that Tower, but I have rules to obey the same as they do.
"But you're the Goddess," he said in consternation. "They have to do what you say!"
Kitten, many mortals don't listen to their gods, she told him simply. And I hate to burst your bubble, but need I remind you that I'm an Elder god. You read that book that explains the distinction last night. Well, we may be more powerful than the Younger gods, but we have more stringent rules on how we can use our power to affect mortals. Human society simply doesn't fall into our sphere of influence, kitten. I can't directly take matters into my own hands, or I'll get in trouble with Ayise.
That seemed strange. He did read the book, and understood the difference between the Elder and Younger gods. The Elder gods were the ten gods created at the beginning. First there was Ayise, the Allmother, and she bore the other nine. The Elder gods represented the primal forces in the universe, the forces of nature and the forces of life. Earth, air, fire water, time, creation, life, death, and magic, those were the forces that were represented by the ten Elder Gods. The Younger gods are all those gods who came after the Elder gods, after the human civilizations took hold. Civilizations that had a need for gods to look over them, gods that weren't busy with running the universe. Many Younger gods had spheres of influence that overlapped the Elder gods, like Talon, who was the Younger god of the forests that also fell under the influence of Leia, Elder goddess of nature, but many Younger gods occupied niches that the Elder gods did not. The Younger gods represented civilization and human nature more than elemental forces. Love, war, hatred, peace, these were represented by Younger gods. Many Younger gods were patrons of entire kingdoms, the way Dallstad was god to the Ungardt, Karas was the god of Sulasia, and Sheniia was goddess to the island folk of the Stormhavens. But some gods, like Talon and Dommammon, god of the moons, overlapped with the Elder gods, and when they did, the Younger gods served the Elders in that regard, taking a bit of the burden off the Elder gods and letting them have more time to deal with mortalkind. The Elder gods were different from the Youngers in that they couldn't be destroyed. A Younger god's power was tied to the mortals who worshipped him, and if there were no worshippers, the Younger god died. If the Younger had been born mortal and ascended into divine status by other gods, then he returned to being a mortal, to live out his natural life. But Younger gods born of other gods, or who were created to fill a need, these simply died. The Elder gods were true immortals, and they existed without the need of mortal followers.
And because they didn't need mortals, that restricted their ability to interact with them. All the Elder gods had temples and priests, just like the Younger gods, but the Elder gods didn't gain any additional power by this association the way the Younger gods did. From what the Goddess was saying, an Elder god couldn't really put a hand into the world unless it directly affected one of their own worshippers.
Precisely, she confirmed. And even with our own people, we are somewhat limited. Because we only give power, we do not get any in return, it is considered a gift and not a symbiotic relationship. That means that we can't be as demanding as the Younger gods in what we want our priests to do, mainly because it isn't something that we couldn't do ourselves. Unlike the Younger gods, we Elder gods can and do directly affect the mortal world with our power, so we don't really need priests. The Younger gods have to work through their priests to directly affect the world when it doesn't involve their portfolio of control. That's why that restriction is there, to keep us from taking our priests for granted. It keeps us humble.
"I'm still not sure I understand that," Tarrin said.
Tarrin, gods are powerful, but they're not wise, she told him impishly. Many of us are just as immature and silly as humans are. The Elder gods especially, because we really don't have to answer to anyone but Ayise. Ayise saw this, so she put limitations on us so that our actions couldn't disrupt the mortal world. Right now, I could, with a thought, kill every single living being on Sennadar. It's within my power. But I can't, because I have my own rules to follow. Kitten, it's very complicated. Let's just say that we have our own little hierarchy up here, and one of the rules is that Elder gods can't directly influence mortals. Anything a mortal does at the behest of an Elder god is because they choose to, not because we force them to.
"Alright, I can understand that. But why can't you make the Council listen to you? Couldn't you just take away their power if they disobey?"
I don't give you your power. You're tapping into the power that I maintain to keep magic in the world, so you're accessing my power without me directly giving it to you. If you were priests, and I was supplying you with your magic, then I could make you do anything I want by threatening to withdraw my support. But it doesn't work that way with Sorcerers. To answer your question, no, I can't take away your power. It's a natural ability, not a granted power. They only way I could take away a Sorcerer's power would be to kill him, and I'd rather not bump off the ruling Council. It would take me years to rebuild the order.
"Just bring in priests to convince them."
Kitten, I'm not allowed to have priests, she explained. My association to the katzh-dashi came at a price. To support the order, I had to give up priests, because an Elder god can only have one organized following of mortals. It's part of our rules. To make it a bit more plain, the Sorcerers are my priests. They do do my work, kitten. Sometimes I have to push them very hard, but they do it. The situation makes it hard for me to directly control the katzh-dashi, because I can't force them to do what I want.
"But isn't it a rule that no mortal can access more than one type of magic?" Tarrin asked. "If the katzh-dashi are both Sorcerers and priests, then that's two orders of magic."
Why, I do believe that you're right, she said in an impish voice. That does seem to violate the restriction, doesn't it?
"So you do grant power to the katzh-dashi," he said triumphantly.
Only for important religious ceremonies, she replied calmly. Consecration, rites, things like that. No, I don't grant them priest's spells. They don't need them. They are Sorcerers, after all. Not much of a threat for me to say "do what I want, or you can't consecrate ground anymore," now is it?
"Oh," he said quietly, leaning back and thinking. "I guess not."
Watching you try to outthink me is very amusing, kitten, she told him with a silvery laugh. If I weren't pressed for time, we'd be arguing all day, but I do have other things to do. So we need to cut this short.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think about that."
You are dear to me, kitten, but you're not the center of the universe, she teased. Yes, I love you. There, your fears are abated. Can I go now?
Tarrin laughed. That was something he certainly never expected to hear from a Goddess. "Well, I guess so," he said.
I'm so glad that I have your Royal permission, she said dryly. I want you to think about something for a while, my kitten. A puzzle for you.
"What?"
Isn't it curious that katzh-dashi are allowed to defy the rules? Kind of makes you wonder why.
"It does," he said honestly.
Keep your eyes open today, kitten. The answer to that riddle will be right in front of your face. All you have to do is see it.
And then she was gone, leaving him feeling hollow and empty inside.
"Were you talking to someone, deshida?" Allia asked as she opened the door to the communal closet. The fact that she was carrying her shirt in her hand and was topless didn't even register to him. Modesty was a loose concept to the Selani, and Allia had no fear of walking into Tarrin's room nude. She had done so, many times.
"Sort of," he replied calmly, and she simply nodded and said no more.
There was a knock on the front door, and Allia opened it without bothering to put on her shirt. But it was only Keritanima. She gave Allia a curious look as she came in, and her boxy muzzle had a worried frown on it. She waited for Allia to close and lock the door, then she started immediately. "We're going tonight," she said in Selani. "Things are starting to happen. We have to move."
"What happened?" Tarrin asked.
"I had an informant close to the king, and I was supposed to get some important information from her today," she said. "Well, this morning she turned up dead. She was poisoned. I think someone's trying to put a leash on my operations. I think it's Jervis, but I have no idea why. He has no real reason to interfere."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because I bought a man in Jervis' office, and by now Jervis knows about it," she replied. "He'll try to feed me misinformation, but I bought the man to keep Jervis' eyes off the fact that I'm using Sorcery to rifle his desk."
"What?" Tarrin asked in surprise.
"Lula taught me a weave that lets me see into places where I can't usually see," she replied with a smirk. "I have to be rather close to where I want to look, though. That's the only drawback. I'm literally looking over his shoulder when Jervis is reading his daily reports."
Tarrin laughed, and Allia smiled. "I knew you were devious, sister, but that is masterful," she said appreciatively.
"Only what, less than a month since you touched the weave, and you can already weave Illusions and other spells," Tarrin said respectfully. "You're a natural, Kerri."
She shrugged. "Lula thinks so too," she said. "She said she's never seen someone that can learn weaves so quickly. I hate to burst her bubble, but it's only because I can precisely recall things I see. All I have to do is see her weave a spell once, and I can copy it perfectly. Then she just has to explain how to alter the effects with varying the flows, let me practice it a few times, and I'm set."
Keritanima once told him that she could just remember everything she reads. When Tarrin asked his father about it, Eron called that an eidectic memory. Whatever it was, it was proving to be a godsend. In a shockingly short time, Keritanima had already progressed further than most Initiates who had been so for years. With Tarrin incapable of using his power, and Allia just learning how to control it, she was much, much more important than either of them in this little game.
"Anyway, something's going on, and it looks like someone else is actively trying to stop me from finding out what. So that means that we need to step things up," she continued. "We're going on our field trip tonight. Dress warmly." She sat down on the chair. "I hate moving so fast. After all, I've only had my network up for a couple of weeks at the most."
"What is this 'week'?" Allia asked.
"A Week is a Wikuni term for measuring days," she replied. "There are five days in a week. Kikal-day, Arga-day, Bor-day, Tori-day, and End-day. Two of our weeks make up one Selani March or Sulasian Ride, which are both ten days. My men are reputed to be good, but I haven't had the time to settle them in," she fretted. "Robbing the Cathedral will make things tense, and I just hope they can deal with the increased security."
"Why not send them instead?" Tarrin asked.
"They don't know what to look for," she countered.
"Neither do we," Allia pointed out.
"Well, we have a better chance of figuring that out than they do," Keritanima said defensively. "Besides, I think the three of us will be rather good burglars. With you two's stealth and my experience, we should be able to pull it off without raising a whisper."
"Experience? You've done this before?"
Keritanima gave Allia a wolfish grin. "Many times," she winked. "I was a thief before I was the High Princess, Allia, and the increased attention forced me to stop sneaking off. I was trained by the best in Wikuna."
"You have had quite an education, Kerri," Tarrin chuckled.
"A girl has to have a hobby," she said with a wink. "We'll discuss the plan tonight, before we go."
"You have a plan?" Tarrin asked.
"Tarrin, you never go thieving without a plan," she told him with a huff. "The planning is the most important part."
"I thought you just snuck in and took things."
"That's sloppy work," she said critically. "The objective of a thief is to take the most valuable things in the fastest possible time, without getting himself caught. A good thief makes a plan. He knows where he's going and what he's looking for before he ever sets foot in the place he's robbing, because that maximizes the profit while minimizing the danger to himself. I have a copy of the plans for the Cathedral, including most of their secret passages and chambers. We'll meet in my room after dinner and make our plan."
"But we don't know what we're looking for," Allia said.
"True, but because I have a copy of the Cathedral's plans, I have a good idea of where to look for it," Keritanima told her. "There are three hidden rooms large enough to serve as a secret library. Our plan will mainly focus on what path we take through the Cathedral to cover each room."
"How did you get your hands on a copy of the Cathedral's plans?" Tarrin asked.
Keritanima only winked at him in reply.
"Have I told you lately that I love you, Kerri?"
She laughed. "I love you too, brother," she replied. "I can't stay much longer, or Jervis will think I'm up to something."
"You are."
"But he's not certain of that," she winked. "And Allia, remember to put your shirt on before you leave today," she told the Selani with a teasing smile. "I'm sure you walking around topless doesn't bother Tarrin, but it'll give the other Initiates a fit. Brel would probably have a heart attack on the spot."
"Perhaps I should do that, if only to make the man shut up," Allia said sourly. "I'm growing tired of his moralistic ravings. I don't see why he can't understand that Tarrin and I are brother and sister, and not lovers."
"Maybe he has those kinds of thoughts about his own sister," Keritanima said with a wicked little smile.
"That's a very sickening thought," Allia grunted. "Humans can be so depraved."
"True, but they're interesting. I have to go. See you two in my room after classes."
"We'll be there," Tarrin replied.
"Hmm, maybe I should go knock on Brel's door bare to the world," Allia said with an evil look in her eyes. "That man has been on me for days about our living arrangements. He accuses me of being a harlot and a tramp, though he never comes out and says it directly, and it's obvious he thinks that I'm seducing you on a nightly basis. Perhaps some revenge is in order."
Tarrin laughed. "I'm sure he'd appreciate it, sister," he told her with a broad grin.
Allia meaningly put her hands on the waist of her trousers, and that sent Tarrin into gales of laughter. It only intensified when she pulled them down, exposing her every intimate charm to him, and then stepped out of them. She stood there wearing nothing but her boots, and that seemed to be even more amusing to him for some reason.
"Excuse me for a moment, my brother," she said with a flat voice, though her eyes were dancing with delight. "I have some vengeance to exact."
"Have fun," he managed to say, as she opened the door, and then stepped out into the hallway wearing nothing but a pair of boots, her long silver hair, and a vicious grin.
"Oh, I will," she promised, closing the door.
Allia was a treasure. He had no idea how he managed to live so long without her in his life.
Tarrin started counting. By the time he reached thirty, there was a strangled bellow from further down the hall, with Brel, Master of Initiates, telling Allia hysterically to go back to her room and put some clothes on! About two minutes later, she calmly stepped back in through his door, and the look on her face was absolutely evil. It only made Tarrin fall off the bed in bouts of helpless laughter.
"That was definitely worth the effort," she said idly to herself. "The look on his face will keep me smiling for a month." She slipped off her boots, righted her pant legs from where they had been pulled inside out when she took them off, and then stepped back into her trousers.
Perhaps it was the ultimate in bad luck that an enraged Brel opened Tarrin's door forcefully just as Allia bent down to pull her pants up, and she had her back to the door. He took one look at the Selani's shapely backside, her posture leaving absolutely nothing to his imagination, and then he simply fainted dead away at the threshold.
Tarrin was basicly a loss at that point. It took him almost twenty minutes to recover control of himself, and Brel lay there the entire time, as other Inititates crowded around him around Tarrin's door. Allia dressed herself with a calm certainty that told everyone she felt absolutely no shame in what she had done, and stood by the door and waited for Brel to wake up. Her icy blue eyes kept the other Initiates from questioning her, and most simply meandered off to spread wild rumor and stories of the event to the others.
After recovering control of himself, Tarrin stood up and gave Allia a grin, patting her on the shoulder just as Brel began to stir. His eyes looked up at the pair blearily, then raw horror crept into them.
"Never question my morals again, Brel," Allia told him coldly. "Else what I do next makes this look innocent by example."
The shrivelled old crotchety Sorcerer blanched at the cold-eyed Selani, his wrinkled face turning pale, then scrabbled to his feet and rushed away hurriedly.
"You're an evil woman, deshaida," Tarrin laughed. "And I love you for it."
"I love you too, deshida," she said with a wicked little smile.
Darvon's scent touched Tarrin's nose just as the man came into view at the door, with the massive Azakar trailing behind him. "I take it you were having fun with Master Brel?" the aged Knight asked idly.
"He could not accept that Tarrin is not my lover," Allia said bluntly. "I decided that it was time for him to understand a few things."
Darvon took one look at the hot-eyed Selani, and he chuckled. "I'm sorry I missed it. It must have been good."
Just thinking about it made Tarrin laugh again. "It was priceless, my Lord General," Tarrin assured him. "I always knew my sister is an evil woman. She proved it."
Allia only gave Darvon a wicked smile, which made him laugh. "I never doubted it," he said.
"What brings you into the Inititate's quarters, my Lord General?" Allia asked.
"Business, my sister, business," he said. "I had a talk with the Keeper yesterday, Tarrin. Some changes were made."
"Really?"
"She agreed to allow you off the grounds, but only if you give her a day's advance warning," he told him. "But she refused to allow you to go alone. So if you leave the grounds, you have to go with Azakar here to accompany you, and at least one Sorcerer. You may be a Knight, but even you have to admit that someone is out to get you. It isn't Knightly to refuse the help of the order, and we look after our own. So Azakar here has been assigned to accompany you and act as your bodyguard, and you get to choose the Sorcerer you want to go with you. You have to admit, this is much better than the complement of katzh-dashi that the Keeper was demanding on. I had to make some ugly threats to bring the Keeper down to this."
"Lord Tarrin," Azakar said with a curt bow. Azakar was still a cadet, where Tarrin was a vested Knight. That changed things between them, for Tarrin had always liked the massive young man, and Azakar had always treated him with courtesy.
"I guess I can accept that, my Lord General," Tarrin said.
"Good. You've been granted permission to go see your parents right now, but you have to be back by lunch. They want to return to your education. Dolanna is waiting for you at the gate. She goes with you too, and Faalken's going to accompany her."
So they had been willing to compromise. That told Tarrin a great deal. They wouldn't suffer outright defiance from any other Initiate.
Tarrin did indeed mean something to the Council. This was complete proof for his long-standing suspicion.
"Then can we go now? I guess I don't have that much time to see my father, so I can't waste any standing here."
"We just have one stop to make, Tarrin," Darvon told him. "At the Academy. Azakar here needs some new spurs."
Azakar gave Darvon a stunned look.
"Did you think that we'd let a cadet have a job as important as accompanying a Sorcerer, Azakar?" Darvon asked with a grin. "You'll be going out there with the honor of the Knights to uphold. It's better for everyone if it's your honor too, now isn't it?"
"Welcome, my brother," Allia told the huge Mahuut with a gentle smile. "It is time for my class. Until later, Darvon, deshida," she said, giving Tarrin a quick kiss on the cheek, then patting Azakar's shoulder as she passed by.
"Well don't stand there looking like a fool, cadet!" Darvon barked at Azakar. "Let's move!"
Azakar looked almost about to explode with pride.
He was wearing a surcoat over his mail shirt and a pair of silver spurs that denoted him as a Knight, and he looked like he was about to faint. Tarrin mused at it with a chuckle as they approached the gate leading out, where Dolanna and the cherubic Faalken stood waiting for them. The air was crisp and noticably cool, but the bright sunshine belied the chill in the air. The day was so crisp and clear that the individual colored lines of the Skybands were visible, which usually was only possible at night. They were all the same dull white, but the faint lines that separated the colors were just barely visible, if one studied them intently enough. Such a crystal-clear day was unusual.
Tarrin greeted Dolanna with a warm smile and taking her small hands, and Faalken was already digging at the new Knight, teasing him about his newfound status. They were surrounded by Tower guards, and people filed in and out of the grounds through the front gate. Standing by the front gate were the Keeper, Koran Dar, Amelyn, and the willowy blond Council member whose name Tarrin didn't know. Even from there, he could smell them, and they were all very anxious. It permeated their scents. They were afraid he'd go through that gate and then never come back, he was certain of it.
The idea had crossed his mind a few times, but there was no telling what would happen to Allia and Keritanima if he did fly the coop. They would all escape, but it would be a time of their choosing, and when the Tower had the least chance of getting them back.
"Well, dear one, are you ready?" Dolanna asked.
"I'm ready," he said. "I'm surprised they're even bothering to send you three with me."
"Why is that?"
Tarrin only smiled at her in return.
"Oh dear," she murmured. "Just be careful, my young one."
"Always, Dolanna. Always."
The four approached the Council members, who wordlessly linked into a circle. Tarrin could feel the connection join among them, as if each reached out and joined invisible hands with the others. He wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next, but Dolanna seemed calm and confident, and she payed the Council little mind as she smoothed her blue silk dress and wool cloak absently.
Then, the hands of the four Council members started to glow in a ghostly white light. The radiance that marked the use of High Sorcery. A hole silently opened in the empty air in front of them. It was surrounded by nothing, but the borders of that hole were limned in a pulsating bluish energy. Tarrin could see that they had somehow punched a hole in the Ward, a hole that would allow him to pass through it. He couldn't see what weave they had used to perform such an act, but it obviously involved all seven Spheres. High Sorcery always involved all seven Spheres.
"Be back by the tolling of the noon bell," the Keeper said in a tight voice, staring at Tarrin intently. "Don't make us come look for you. It won't be pleasant."
"Like you could find me," Tarrin snorted as he stepped through the penetrated Ward. He waited until Dolanna, Faalken, and Azakar were with him, and they stepped into the streets of Suld.
It was the first time he'd ever been in the city during the daytime. The streets were filled with people, dressed in all manner of clothing but sharing a common theme of warmth against the chill of the late autumn day. Sulasian doublets and breeches and long-hemmed dresses dominated the streets, but the occasional woolen mantle of an Arkisian, or the waistcoats and unusual appearances of the Wikuni were also rather common. Even the ruffled shirts and coats and tight-fitting pants called hose favored by the Shaceans. Several fur-clad Ungardt were strolling through an intersection, giving way to a horse-drawn open carriage that was occupied by a pretty middle-aged woman wrapped in an expensive velvet-lined cloak. A Torian woman, whose multitude of tiny braids clearly marked her city of birth, seemed to be haggling with a rough-faced Dal who wore the slate gray pants and brown cloak that were common among them. Suld was a city of trade, the largest city on the western coast, and from the city, on the well-maintained roads that criss-crossed the kingdom, goods travelled to Daltochan and northern Shace, even into southern Draconia and Tykarthia. Sulasia was famous for its craftsmen, and merchants from all over the world came to Suld to buy what were considered to be the best durable goods in the world. A Sulasian wagon would last ten years longer than one built by other hands, and there was a heavy demand for Sulasian four-banded barrels, famous for their durability. Daltochan was famous for metalwork and weapons, but Sulasia was famous for the things that modern man used in his daily life.
It gave Suld a multinational aire that Tarrin couldn't miss. Suld was the capital of Sulasia, seat of the Lion Throne, but the city looked more like a crossroads of the world. In Suld, Tarrin's obvious exotic appearance didn't attract as much attention as he thought it might. Some people gave him second looks, but by and large, he was left alone. But then again, the hulking ten span tall menace travelling beside him may have alot to do with that.
The only think Tarrin didn't like about it was the smell. He'd grown used to that foul miasma since being on the grounds, since it carried over into the grassy, natural setting of the Tower. Out in the city, with the humans all bustling about, it intensified that pungent amalgamation of waste, sweat, anxiety, animals, weathered stone, wood, and fire. There would be no way he could backtrack even his own scent in that unpleasant riot of smells.
After they were about ten blocks from the Tower gate, well out of sight from the katzh-dashi, Tarrin stopped by a large tavern, whose weathered sign showed a mug resting on the skull of a Troll. Trollskull Tavern, it was called. It wasn't that far from Tomas' house, and it would be a good place for them to wait for him.
"This is as far as you go," Tarrin told Dolanna and the others. "Just wait here for me. I'll be back in a couple of hours."
"I have to accompany you, Tarrin," Azakar objected. "It's my duty."
"It's also your duty as my brother Knight to accede to my wishes," he told him calmly. "I'm not in any danger, Zak. Trust me. But I'm not leading the eyes following us back to my parents. I had them hide for a reason."
"Just let him go, Zak," Faalken told him calmly. "Tarrin can take care of himself, and he could lose us so easily that at least we look dignified this way."
Tarrin chuckled. "True enough," he agreed in a modest voice. "I'll be back soon. Just have a drink and some breakfast, and I'll come get you when I'm ready."
"Alright, just be careful, dear one," Dolanna said, patting him on the arm.
He left them there, the quickly and easily lost all his followers by stepping into an alley, shifting into his cat form, and then squirming through a hole in a wall into a building that turned out to be a warehouse, sneaking through, and then slowly making his way to the house. It wasn't easy in cat form, because he had to cross alot of human and horse traffic, and more than a few people actively tried to kick him when he got close to them. But he reached the back door without a whole lot of trouble, shifted back into his humanoid form, and found it to be unlocked.
Nanna was busily chopping onions as Deris tended a pot sitting on the metal stove. The wood stoves were from Wikuna, and they were all the rage with anyone who could afford them, because they made cooking so much easier.
"I must say, you two are alert," Tarrin said, making both of them jump. Nanna whirled around with her chopping knife held like a sword, then she took one look at him and laughed.
"Don't do that to an old woman!" she threatened, putting the knife down. Then she laughed. "Is Allia with you?"
"Not today," he replied, stepping forward and taking Nanna's hand.
"So this is Tarrin. I'm sorry I was too tired to stay up the other night," Deris said with a grin.
"Deris," Tarrin greeted calmly.
"Are you playing hookey again?"
"Yes and no," he smiled. "Are my parents here? I need to talk to them."
Eron is down in the cellar, teaching Janine how to brew his brandy. Your mother is in the parlor with some relative of hers."
"Relative? Mother-" Tarrin suddenly laughed, then left Nanna standing there as he rushed to the parlor.
Elke was sitting on the sofa, and a large, older man with steel gray hair and a powerful frame sat across from her. He had a patch over his right eye, with a wicked scar running up from his jaw, over his cheek, and under that patch. His features were rugged, almost brutish, and his body looked as intimidating as his face appeared. A beak of a nose was a bit red, and his single eye was just a bit bloodshot.
Anrak Whiteaxe, clan chief of the Whiteaxe clan, had a bit of a cold. That, or he was hung over. But he wasn't stupid enough to come into his daughter's presence after drinking.
"Grandfather!" Tarrin said in surprise, making both of them look at him.
"Tarrin, lad," he said in a voice roughened by a lifetime at sea, standing up. "Ye're as Elke described ye. I think ye look good that way."
Tarrin laughed, then rushed over and crushed his grandfather in a fierce hug. "When did you get in? Mother said you'd been visiting. How did you know to come here?"
"She saw my ship in the harbor," he replied, then he pushed him away enough to sneeze.
"I told you to do something about that, father," Elke told him.
"I will I will," he snapped. "Ye're lookin' healthy, me boy. Taller. And with fur."
Tarrin chuckled. "Well, that wasn't my choice, believe me," he said.
"Elke told me all about it," he said. "I been lookin' fer that Were-cat woman to give her a piece of my mind, but she's not showin' up in ports. She should save herself the trouble and come find me, so I can get her overwith."
Tarrin laughed. "Leave her alone, grandfather," he warned. "She's not worth your trouble, and I've more or less forgiven her for what happened. It wasn't entirely her fault."
"Me? Give up a grudge? I ain't that old, lad."
Tarrin laughed. He missed Anrak. The burly old sailor was quite a character. "How's the clan?"
"Doin' fine, my lad, doin' fine. Yer uncle Jarl is doing the paperwork for me while I keep us bringing in the coin. It's a good situation for both of us."
"I keep telling you that you're getting too old for wandering, father," Elke said sourly. "You should spend at least every other trip at home, so you have a chance to recover from your journeys. It's not healthy for you to be running all the time."
"I'll stop wanderin' when I'm dead," Anrak grunted. "And only cause dead men can't walk."
"Well, you'll stop wandering until I get rid of that chill," she said in a steely voice. "You can't go out on the winter seas with a cold. It'll go into your lungs, and they'll be throwing your carcass over the rail within a ride."
"I ain't the only one sick, so we're wintering here," he replied. "I ain't gonna risk my men to the chills, and there's already ice out on the seas. It's too dangerous to sail north."
"Already? It's not even winter yet!" Elke said in surprise.
"It's been a warm summer up north, hon," Anrak told her. "The ice flows have been breaking up, and the summer current's been haulin' them out of the Bay of Ice. There's been ice in the water all summer, but now that it's colder up north, it ain't breakin' up and meltin' like it was in the summer."
"Well, at least you'll be wintering where mother can keep an eye on you," Tarrin chuckled.
"Only cause my men can't sail," Anrak said with an evil grin at his daughter. "I'd rather spend my winter in Dayise, where it's warm all winter, and the ladies are much more friendly."
"Mother would kill you," Elke warned.
"Yer mother can't catch me," Anrak grinned.
"I can fix that."
"Ye wouldn't!"
"Try me."
Anrak gave Elke a sour look. "Ye're ruinin' my golden years," he accused.
"I'm making sure you live to enjoy them," she replied bluntly. "Mother would split your skull with a frying pan if she knew you were cheating on her."
"I ain't cheatin' on yer mother, Elke. I ain't that stupid."
"I thought not," she said with a slight smile.
"What brings you back here so soon, Tarrin?" Elke asked.
"I demanded to be let out-legally-and see you," he said. "It was generally just misdirection, because I can get out any time I want, but at least now I don't have to sneak over to see you. My escort is waiting at a tavern while I visit," he chuckled. "At least they were smart enough not try to follow me."
"Escort?"
"I can't leave without a Knight and a Sorcerer accompanying me," he told her. "Lucky for me they gave me a Knight that just got his spurs, someone I can effectively bully. And I get to choose the Sorcerer that comes, so I can always get someone that I can convince to let me go on alone. That reminds me. Have you and father given any thought as to where you're going to live? You can't stay here forever."
"Actually, we have," Elke said. "I haven't been home in years, and Jenna should meet the clan. We were considering travelling with father back to Dusgaard. We could hug the coast to avoid the ice, and be back in Dusgaard before the harbor freezes. After spending a year up there, we were going to go back to Aldreth."
"Ye never said nothin' about that to me," Anrak growled.
"That's because you'd just argue," Elke told her father with a false smile.
"That may be the best thing," Tarrin said. "We have to face facts. Because of me, you're in danger here. It may be best if you get some distance from me."
"Danger? From what?" Anrak demanded. Elke calmly related the story of the attack by the Doomwalker, and the many attempts on Tarrin. "By the ice, daughter, why didn't ye say so? We'll have ye home safe by New Year's Day."
"The only reason we're even considering it is because Jenna has proven she can control her gift," Elke said. "She can wait a year or two before going back to formally training with the Sorcerers."
"There's always room for one or two more, grandson," Anrak told Tarrin seriously. "If ye want protection, the Whiteaxe Clan always looks after its own."
"I appreciate that, Grandfather, but the Tower has a long arm," Tarrin replied. "I've already got somewhere much safer in mind, somewhere even the katzh-dashi won't go to unless invited."
"Allia's clan?" Elke asked.
Tarrin nodded. "Not even the katzh-dashi are stupid enough to come after us if we have the protection of the Selani," he told her. "They'd come over the Sandshield and wipe Sulasia off the map."
"No doubt," Anrak chuckled evilly.
"But we can't leave yet. Not until we have a full idea of what's going on."
"Any luck so far?"
Tarrin shook his head. "Keritanima's run into opposition. Someone keeps killing her informants."
"That's a Wikuni name," Anrak deduced. "By the sound of it, she's someone in a very high station. Nobility."
Tarrin nodded. "She's in this with us," he replied. "That reminds me. We might come visit in the middle of the night, or we might not. Either way, pretend that we were never here."
Elke gave Tarrin a slow grin. "That sounds underhanded."
"We do have some plans along those lines, yes," he agreed with an urbane smile.
"I'll have Deris leave the back door unlocked," Elke said.
"No, just have him not bar the door. Just use the lock. Kerri says there's no lock made that she can't pick. We'll see if she's just bragging tonight."
"The High Princess of the Wikuni can pick locks?" Elke asked in surprise.
"Mother, Kerri is full of surprises," Tarrin chuckled. "And unfortunately, I have to cut this short. It took me longer to get here than I planned, and I have to be back at the Tower by the noon bell."
"This is Keritanima-Chan Eram ye're talkin' about, ain't it?" Anrak asked suddenly. "I heard that she has the brain of a sand shrew."
"She has the brain of a genius, Grandfather," Tarrin said with a laugh. "She just pretends to be an idiot. And that's privilged information," he said sternly. "If I find out you've been blabbing, I'll take out your other eye. Do you understand me?"
"He's gotten aggressive, daughter," Anrak noted to Elke.
"It suits him," Elke said with a shrug. "And it is important you keep it quiet, father. Their safety depends on Keritanima's little game. If you get my son in danger, I'll gut you like a pig and drag you around by your entrails. Do we understand one another?"
"As sweet as ever, eh daughter?" Anrak said with a rueful, gravelly chuckle.
"Just making sure you understand the consequences," she warned.
"In this family, there are always consequences," Anrak said.
Tarrin returned to Dolanna and the others half an hour before the noon bell, and they had him back on the grounds by the determined time. After a quick lunch in the kitchens, Tarrin was summoned to the Chambers of Seven, which was the council chamber used by the Council. Tarrin was not looking forward to it. Just as he suspsected, the Council itself was going to try to correct his problem in using Sorcery, and that made him very nervous. Tarrin didn't trust the Council. He had some friendly feelings towards Koran Dar, because the man seemed calm, wise, and gentle, but he was only one of the seven. Of the others, he only had had contact with Amelyn and Ahiriya, and neither of those meetings had been entirely friendly. He didn't even know the names of all seven.
And now he was going to be forced to put his life in their hands. That didn't set well with him, and by the time he reached the ornate, bronze gilded door that was the entry to the Chambers of Seven, his tail was lashing back and forth like a farmer reaping wheat with a scythe.
For the ruling body of the katzh-dashi, they kept themselves in a humble state. The room wasn't that large, and it was totally devoid of all decoration. The gray stone walls were illuminated by a large glowglobe hovering in midair over a circular table made of white stone. Inlaid on the surface of that round table was a shaeram device, in full color, and around that table stood seven simple padded chairs. Where each triangle that represented a Sphere pointed away, a Council member sat, and Tarrin realized immediately that the Seat of each Sphere sat with their own color pointing towards them. The Keeper, who represented no Sphere, sat in a void between two spheres, and she also faced the door. Seven faces turned to look at him, and Tarrin very nearly turned around and left. They were hard faces, all of them younger than he would have imagined for a ruling body of a world power, a couple of them outright hostile, and their scents were as hard as their expressions, though they were tinged with fear. They were his enemies, he knew that at that moment. They had always been.
"Come in," the Keeper ordered. "We have much to do."
"What are we going to do?" Tarrin asked, staying by the door.
"You will address the Keeper in a term of respect!" Amelyn snapped at him suddenly.
"Amelyn," the Keeper said sternly. "We're going to try to help you," she told him. "We have to understand what's happening to you when you try to touch the Weave, and then we'll try to help you work around the problem."
"What do I have to do?" he asked warily.
"Just come in, and have a seat on the table," the Keeper said. "Right in the middle."
Approaching them, he stepped up onto the table, but as soon as he looked down at the shaeram, memories of the fight with the Wraith flooded into him. He almost couldn't bring himself to step across that green circle, and it made him extremely nervous and unsettled to seat himself cross-legged atop the concave star that represented the Goddess. He wrapped his tail around his body and rested it in his lap.
"Very good. Now, reach out and touch the Weave. If you feel yourself losing control, let it go, wait a few minutes, and then touch it again."
Silently, Tarrin assensed the room. It was in very close proximity to the Heart, and the air was almost saturated with very large strands that carried alot of magical energy. There was alot of power in the room. Touching the weave was almost instinctual for him, and he achieved communion with the Weave as easily as others may pick up a basket. He felt that sudden heat approach, the avalanche of raw power that always sought him out when he touched the Weave, and he broke away before it had a chance to find him.
"That was too soon, Tarrin," the Keeper's voice called to him. He looked down at her, and could see her form shimmering in a curious way that seemed to tell him that she was touching the Weave. "We have to see what happens, and you broke contact too soon."
"I'm not going to let that happen, Keeper," he said adamantly.
"We're here to cut you off, Tarrin," she soothed. "We won't let it get away from you. Just touch the Weave again, and this time let whatever happens happen."
"That's easy for you to say," he snorted under his breath, then he reached out and touched the Weave again. Almost immediately, the onslaught of magical power was upon him, and he gasped reflexively as it tried to fill him with the full power of the Weave. It overwhelmed his ability to let go of the Weave instantly, creating a connection so powerful that just letting go wouldn't be enough.
He felt something try to fall between him and the Weave, an invisible something with no substance, yet had a palpable effect on the magic trying to flood into him, but it was rebuffed forcibly when it tried to choke off the flow of power into him. In half a heartbeat, his body was saturated with power, energy that built and built and built and had nowhere to go. He felt another attempt to limit that influx of magical energy, but it was again slapped away by the raw magnitude of the energy it was trying to stop.
In sudden desperation, he opened himself to the Weave more fully, allowing the energy to flow through him rather than build within him. That helped, but not by a great amount. The power still sought to build inside him, but it did slow it down. That gave him the time he needed to recover his wits, to remember how to sever himself from the Weave, and he slammed the door in the face of that power. The backlash put spots behind his eyes and a sudden pounding in his head, a shockwave of intense pain through his body, and it even made the seven Sorcerers studying him reel back in their seats as if struck by a physical blow.
"Amazing," he heard Koran Dar murmur.
Tarrin sagged a bit, paws to his head as the pounding eased. The pain faded quickly, but it left an imprint of itself in his mind. He opened his eyes just in time to see a ghostly white radiance, wispy like smoke, fade from around his paws.
It had been the first time he'd let it go that far, foolishly trusting that the Council could control him, and the pain of disconnection was almost intolerable. His body was trembling from the lightning-fast wave of pain the rushed through it, as if some intangible being had flown through his body. Panting, he put his paws on the table to brace himself, letting the trembling cease and the memory of the pain dim.
"Alright, Tarrin, try it again," the Keeper said.
"No," he snapped. "I felt you try twice, and you couldn't stop it. If you didn't know, that hurts. I'm not going to torture myself just so you can study me." He felt the Cat rise in his mind, and a sudden irrational fear began to choke off his reasoning. He had no idea where it came from, but it was incredibly powerful. It was all he could do to stop himself from jumping off the table.
"Tarrin, you have to trust us," the Keeper said in a reasoning tone. "We can't help you until we have a complete understanding of what's wrong. If you let us try again, we could succeed this time." He felt them all join into a circle, and the Keeper's body almost began to glow in a white aura to his eyes. She was the lead of the circle. How he knew that, he had no idea. "Now, one more time," she said. "Try it again."
That they joined in a circle meant something. Perhaps joined, they could control the power. Tarrin pushed that irrational fear away enough to get a center on himself, then reached out and touched the Weave.
Almost instantly, he was overwhelmed by power. There was more of it, and it came faster and harder than it did before. Thought disintigrated before that tidal wave of power, and only sensation told him that something was trying to stop the energy. But again, to no avail. The incoming power simply flowed around the attempt to block it, overwhelming it, pulling it into him.
And in the instant it was carried into him, Tarrin was forcibly joined to their circle.
He felt an expansion of consciousness as his own power and even his mind reached out and made a connection to a greater whole. The Group Consciousness of a circle. And in that fleeting moment, he understood several fundamental truths. Sorcerers could join in circles no larger than seven, for an eighth member with a similarly structured mind created a permanent group consciousness, a mass mind that existed independent of the bodies of the Sorcerers involved, an amalgamation of the personalities of the victims. And when the circle was broken, the mass mind faded away, leaving the linked Sorcerers nothing but empty shells.
But that mass mind was formed because of the similarities between the minds of those forming the circle. Seven humans, who thought in similar ways, could form a safe circle, but eight would push the similarities over that intangible border, and create a permanent mass mind. Tarrin was not human, and because of that, human weaves of mind couldn't affect him. The human mind could not comprehend the way his mind worked, and thus could not affect his thoughts. But Tarrin's dissimilar mind joined to a circle of seven and made it eight.
And the dissimilarity of his mind prevented the formation of a permanent mass mind.
In that glimmer, he understood why the Ancients could do what legends said they could do. The Sha'Kar had been living then, and the Sha'Kar were not human. The Ancients could safely join into circles larger than seven. He wasn't sure of how the actual mechanics of it worked, but it was now obvious that the Ancients could join into circles of at least eight. And who knew what limit the Ancients truly had? Perhaps they could form circles with a specific arrangement that allowed even a hundred Sorcerers to combine their powers into one massive effort. A circle of a hundred Sorcerers with the power of the Ancients could move mountains. That was how they earned their reputation.
In joining into the circle, Tarrin had wrested control of it away from the Keeper. He felt the power flooding into him dissipate into the other seven, reducing the burden it was placing on his body, returning rational thought into his mind. He had never been in a circle before, and the sudden intrusion of the alien minds into his consciousness caused the Cat to instantly and savagely react, pushing the unknown thoughts away with such force that it disrupted the tenuous bonds that kept them linked in a circle.
Instead of a violent tearing away from the Weave, Tarrin simply let it go. But the backlash he had suffered the first time was now placed fully on the Council, as the power inside them evaporated like smoke and caused that shockwave of pain. The Keeper almost fell over backwards in her chair, and the little blond Water Seat fainted dead away. The remaining six all had looks of agony on their faces, which passed quickly into holding their heads in pain.
"What just happened?" Ahiriya groaned.
"Tarrin somehow got into the circle," the burly Earth Seat managed to say. "His Were-cat mind disrupted it. And a good thing too, else we would all be dead."
He hadn't understood it the way Tarrin had, he realized. How could they miss it? It was so obvious. But Tarrin said nothing. The less they knew, the better it would be for him.
"Why do I hurt?" Koran Dar said in a voice not too much like a sailor with a hangover.
"I think we're feeling the backlash Tarrin felt the first time," Amelyn said groggily. "With us linked to him, he pushed it onto us. Goddess, Tarrin, if this is what you felt, then I won't ask you to do it again."
That earned a bit of respect in his mind. His opinion of Amelyn had just improved by several degrees.
"We can't try that again until we research how it happened," the Keeper grunted, rubbing her temple. "Tarrin, what did you feel?"
"I'm not sure," he replied. "There was the rush, then I felt something connect to me, and then my instincts attacked it as an invader," he replied. "I didn't suffer a backlash this time."
"That's because we suffered it for you," the Keeper grunted. "But I have to agree with Amelyn. If this is what you feel, then we can't ask you to keep doing it. We'll go speak with the Lorefinders and see if there's a less painful way for you to try to get a grip on your power."
"I appreciate that, Keeper," he said calmly. He knew that the only reason she said that was because now she was at risk to suffer his pain. Him suffering was just fine, until she had to share in his agony. Then it was unacceptable. "May I go now? I don't think we'll be doing anything else."
"No, I think not. Go on. Just get some rest, there's no telling how that backlash will affect you."
"Thank you," he said calmly, getting down from the table, and leaving without a word.
That had been important, in more ways than one. Tarrin had received a hint of the ancient secrets, lost to the katzh-dashi since the Breaking. The true secret of the Ancients' power had been partially revealed.
And the Council had completely missed it. Then again, Tarrin had the feeling that in that instant, he was the only one of them that was coherent, so he alone could understand the forces at work on all eight of them.
He had to talk this out with Keritanima. The Wikuni's intellect and ability to reason were needed.
What Tarrin got was both Keritanima and Dar. When it was time for all the other Initiates to get out of class, Tarrin wandered over to Keritanima's room, and found her in the company of Dar. They were sitting in her room at the table, chatting idly while playing a game called chess. It was a Wikuni game that had become popular in the western kingdoms, because it required even more strategy than stones, and the lead-cast figurines used to play the game were easy to make. Miranda was sitting sedately on the bed, working on some embroidery, and Sisska and Binter stood vigil beside the door, protecting the Royal person. Tarrin nodded to Binter and Sisska as he entered, and Miranda flashed him a cheeky smile, unleashing her undenyable cuteness upon him. She was sitting with her long, very bushy tail curled up around her ankles, to keep the luxuriantly furred appendage out from underfoot. Her tail was the same yellow color as her hair, something of an oddity among Wikuni. Usually, a Wikuni with fur had colorings that matched their brother or sister animal. Keritanima was a perfect example, for her fur perfectly matched the distinct patterns of a fox, even down to her ears, hands and feet, and tail. Miranda's tail should have been white, like her fur, but it was instead yellow, the color of her hair.
Tarrin noticed absently that Dar was the only one in the room that didn't have a tail.
"Hullo, Tarrin," Keritanima said without looking up. Like him, her nose was very sharp. She reached down and made a move, and Dar winced.
"Ouch," he said. "I was hoping you wouldn't see that."
"Dream on, Dar," she teased with a wolfish smile. "Want to give up now, or are going to go through the futile motions of trying to dig yourself out?"
Dar laughed. "I'll quit while I'm behind," he decided, setting one of the pieces on its side. Tarrin had no idea what significance that move had, because he didn't play the game.
"It's refreshing to find a human that knows how to play a real game," Keritanima told him. "Want to lose again?"
Dar laughed. "No, not right now," he said. "Judging by the look on Tarrin's face, he wants to talk to one of us."
Keritanima glanced at him, her penetrating amber eyes taking in everything at once. "Me," she said calmly, her voice losing its vapid demeanor instantly. "Would you mind excusing us for a while, Dar?"
Dar gave Keritanima a curious look, and nodded. "I'll see you at dinner?"
"Sure," she replied. "Save me a seat."
Dar patted Tarrin on the shoulder as he passed by, and then was let out by Sisska. "You're getting cozy with him," he noted after Sisska shut the door.
"I like him. Both of us do, for that matter," she shrugged. "He's impossible to not like. I've never met anyone quite like him."
"He had the same effect on me," he replied. "I think that's why they made him my roommate."
"It's possible. Something's on your mind, Tarrin. Why don't you just get it off you chest now?"
"Why don't we go take a walk," he said, giving Binter and Sisska a fleeting look.
"They know about me, Tarrin," she assured him. "They've been my guards for three years, and their honor forbids them from revealing the truth about me. Isn't that right, Binter?"
"It is so, your Highness," he said calmly. "We have both sworn ourselves to secrecy. Death Herself could not make us reveal what we know to those who do not."
And that answered that suspicion.
Tarrin sat down on the bed beside Miranda and began to relate what had happened in the Chambers of Seven in a calm, analytical voice. "I have no idea how I know some of it," he grunted after explaining what he felt when he joined their circle. "I've never really been taught anything about circles. Just what Dolanna's said in passing. I knew that they couldn't go over seven, but I never asked why."
"Lula hasn't really gotten into circles either," Keritanima said. "I think that's something they teach after the individual instruction is complete. Lula said they'd be reforming a class again soon. Maybe even in a couple of days. Lula likes me. Maybe I could get her to teach me a bit about circles tomorrow."
"That may help, but what about the conclusion? Could we form a circle larger than seven, as long as there's a mind of another race present?"
"It certainly seems logical," Keritanima said after a moment. "Mind weaves don't affect members of other races, because of a dissimilarity in the way different races think. It only stands to reason that if circles are limited by a similarity in the thought processes of the Sorcerers that make them, then Sorcerers with different thought processes could expand that limit. By only themselves, at the very least, or perhaps they can act as a buffer between two smaller circles, letting two circles join into one through them."
"I never thought of that," Tarrin said, thinking about it. Who was to say that the lead of a circle couldn't turn around and join another circle?
"But I think that you're right, brother," she said. "There's a good chance that you may be onto something. Too bad we can't really take advantage of it. There are only three of us. Four, if you count Dolanna. Actually five, if we let Dar into our little group. And Dar hasn't yet managed to touch the Weave."
"There may be something we can use, Kerri," Tarrin told her. "When I got swept up into the Council's circle, the stress put on me suddenly lifted. I was still being flooded, but I could almost control it. I shunted most of what I couldn't control onto the Council, and that left me coherent enough to understand a few things before the circle was broken."
"What broke the circle?"
"I did," he said. "The Cat in me doesn't like the sensation of joining consciousness. It attacked the circle's bonds as soon as they formed, and it broke them before I could really get a handle on what was going on. I think it was an instinctive reaction. With some practice, maybe that part of me could accept a circle."
"We're not going to experiment, Tarrin," she warned. "I have a fondness for my own tail."
"I'm not asking you to, sister," he assured her. "But you're the smartest of us. If anyone could think up a way we could use this information, it's you."
"Not without a better understanding of the subject," she said emphatically. "Maybe a visit to the library is in order. They have to have a couple of books on circles there."
"That's always an idea," Tarrin agreed. "But that'll have to wait."
She nodded. "We have bigger whales to hunt tonight."
"I'll take care of it, Princess," Miranda said demurely. "I know where the library is. I'll find the books you'll need."
"Thank you, Miranda," Keritanima told her sincerely. "You're too good to me."
"Someone has to be, Princess," she said with a disarming smile. Tarrin glanced at Miranda, and he caught a very slight little smile.
"Be careful, Miranda. You don't have appearances on your side here."
"What does that mean?"
"My younger sister, Jenawalani, she's a mink too," Keritanima told him. "That let Miranda get through the palace at home a little easier. They look nothing alike, but from a distance, it's hard to tell them apart."
"My tail is longer than Princess Jenawalani's, and her coloring is more gray than white," Miranda told Tarrin calmly. "And she's shorter than I am."
"And she's ugly, where Miranda always has the eyes of the young men," Keritanima said, which made Miranda's cheek fur ruffle slightly. A Wikuni version of a blush. "Sisska, be a dear and escort Miranda tonight. She's starting to attract attention, and the rather unpleasant deaths of few of my spies means that I have to start protecting the important people."
"It will be as you command, Princess," Sisska said in a deep, rumbling voice. A voice that was not even remotely female. Now that he looked at them, he couldn't easily tell Binter and Sisska apart by anything other than scent. Binter's crest was larger than Sisska's, and she was shorter than him, but they weren't very apparent distinctions. They were equally muscular, and there were no real physiological differences between their genders. No, Sisska was a bit slimmer than Binter, but she was still awesomely muscled.
"Deaths? You mean there were more?" Tarrin asked.
Keritanima nodded. "Three," she replied. "All of them were my spies at court. Someone's trying to undermine my operation, and now I'm not so certain that it's Jervis. Ahiriya has her own people, and I have the feeling that it's her."
"How can you tell?"
"Because wanton killing isn't Jervis' style," she replied. "He prefers to buy off enemy spies and turn them into double agents, because he has such a large budget to work with. Ahiriya is reputed to have a heavy hand. Eliminating the opposition is more in line with her way of doing things. It also makes sense. Jervis doesn't care what I know, because it's not his job to keep me in the dark. He's just here to keep an eye on me, and use his information network to search out and remove threats to my safety. In that respect, Jervis works for me. But Ahiriya has a very real need to keep Miranda from finding out what's going on, and then taking steps to protect me, or passing that information on to Jervis. Right now, Ahiriya is probably doing everything she can to disrupt both my and Jervis' operations, because they both represent a threat to the interests of the Tower. I don't doubt that a few of Jervis' men have also turned up dead. I'm waiting for him to get his daily reports, so I can confirm that."
"Sometimes you scare me, Kerri," Tarrin told her.
"Why?"
"It's almost frightening, how smart you are."
She gave him a shy smile. "I'm glad someone appreciates me," she told him.
There was a knock at the door, and Binter opened it to reveal Allia. "I am sorry I am late," she said in the common tongue, scurrying in. "Alloran would not let me leave until I master multi-flow weaving. I am exhausted."
"It's not easy, is it?" Keritanima asked in Selani.
"Not remotely," Allia agreed. She sat down on the other side of Miranda, who put aside her embroidery and began to listen to them attentatively. Like Tarrin, Allia accepted Miranda and the Vendari without question. They trusted Keritanima's judgement.
"Miranda, I need the plans," Keritanima told her.
"Yes, your Highness," she said calmly, standing up and retreating to the communal closet linking Keritanima's room with hers. She returned as Keritanima moved over to the bed, and helped the fox Wikuni spread them out. On the large rolled parchment were detailed plans of the T shaped building known as the Hammer Cathedral. The hammer and scales were the symbol of Karas, and they had built their main cathredral in that shape and places a huge sculpture of a set of scales at the head of it to honor the god.
"Alright, this is our target," Keritanima said in a brusque, businesslike manner. "There are three rooms that we'll have to check out. Here, here, and here," she said, pointing to rooms within the "heads" of the hammer shape. "These two are linked by this secret passage, but we'll have to cross the cathedral's open passages to get to this one. We'll enter through this servant's door here," she said, pointing to a door in the left branch. "We should be able to reach the secret passage that links to this room easily and without attracting attention. We'll check out these two rooms, then go through these secret tunnels so that we have the smallest amount of open area to cross," she explained, tracing her clawed finger along a series of dashed marks that ran through the cathedral's walls. "That will put us in the third chamber without putting ourselves at too much risk. After we're done, we leave through this servant's entrance," she concluded, pointing to a door that mirrored the one through which they wound enter. "Tarrin will carry our loot. I'll take point, and Allia will bring up the rear. We'll use your little trick to get over the fence, Tarrin, but Binter will be there when we return to help us get our loot onto the grounds quickly."
"You think you can manage landing after I get you over the fence?" Tarrin asked.
"I'm not a china doll, Tarrin," she said with a teasing smile. "I may look like a little slip of a girl, but I know how to land after falling some distance. Trust me. I'll be fine."
"I have worked with her on the field, Tarrin. She is capable," Allia assured him. "She is much stronger than she appears."
"Why thank you, Allia," Keritanima said to her with a grin. "We'll leave on the first bell after sunset. Dress in clothes suitable for sneaking around."
"That's it?" Tarrin asked. "That's the plan?"
"That's the plan."
"I thought it would be more complicated."
"The simpler a plan is, brother, the easier it is for it to succeed," she told him patiently. "Our only real danger is getting caught out in the open in the cathedral. For something like a simple break-in and theft, I hope things will go smoothly and easily. They have priests and acolytes up and moving at all times, so we'll get our share of excitement." She looked at Miranda. "Did you pack my skulking clothes?"
"I'll have them ready for you, Highness," she assured her. "I've also got the sacks you asked for. They're in my clothes chest."
"What would I ever do without you, Miranda?"
"Let's hope you never have to find out," the mink said in a lilting voice, a gentle smile on her face.
"Indeed," Keritanima agreed with a toothy grin. "Alright, we'll meet on the Knight's field on the first bell after sunset," she told them.
"I'll be there," Tarrin assured her.
"As will I."
"Pray to your Goddess, Tarrin," Keritanima told him. "We may need her help before all is said and done."
"I thought you said this would be easy."
"I said I hope it will be easy. I'm a cynic, brother dear. I'm sure something will come along and ruin my elegant little plan. It's best to be ready for it now, than scrambling to cover it when it happens."
"Things should go well," Miranda assured them. "It's such a simple plan that it can't help but to succeed. I'll have the books you want here when you return, Highness."
"Is everything ready for us?"
She nodded. "The tents you asked for are where you wanted them to be in the maze. I had some trouble getting the waterproof chests in there without arousing suspicion, but they're waiting for you as well."
"What do we need those for?" Tarrin asked.
"We have to put this stuff somewhere, Tarrin," she replied. "We can't very well just stick in our rooms. Nobody ever goes into the courtyard, and nobody will disturb it if we hide our booty in there. Put it in waterproof containers and throw some good waterproof canvas over it, and it'll be just fine. A good thief is as ready to dispose of his loot as she is ready to get it. The longer you hold stolen goods, the better chance others have of pinning the crime to you."
"That makes sense, I suppose," Tarrin said dubiously, noticing the bright, eager look in Keritanima's amber eyes. She liked stealing things.
"Trust me. I've done this before."
"That's what scares me."
"You," she said, slapping him on the forearm.
"Is she like this at home, Miranda?" Tarrin asked the mink curiously.
"No," she replied. "She's worse."
"Miranda!"
"It's the truth, Highness," she shrugged. "You don't have to do all the things you do. I can do it, or find someone to do it for you. You just enjoy the game."
Keritanima gave Miranda a withering look, then she laughed ruefully. "Alright, alright, I do like being a sneak. It's much more entertaining than listening to my father's teachers rant about history and etiquette, and it keeps me ready for Jenawalani and Veranika's assassins." She looked to her maid again. "Do you have my diversion ready?"
Miranda nodded. "They'll never know you left, your Highness," she assured her, scratching her little pink button nose absently.
"What diversion?"
"Oh, just a squad of Royal Marines getting into a very nasty brawl," Keritanima said with an evil smile. "They'll provide us with a good ten minutes to get out of here unseen."
"You're scaring me, Kerri," Tarrin said.
"What?"
"Is there anything you can't arrange?"
Keritanima laughed. "I couldn't get the Keeper married," she said with a wolfish smile. "So I guess there are some things that I can't manage."
"All in all, deshida, I prefer her having the skills," Allia said with a slight smile. "She makes it much easier for us."
"True enough," Tarrin agreed. "I think I want to get something to eat before we go."
"Dar is waiting for us anyway," Keritanima shrugged. "Let's go eat. We have a long night ahead of us."
Miranda halted Tarrin as he left behind his two sisters, and he stopped to see what she wanted. "Watch her," she said in a low voice. "She sometimes loses her head on these little excursions. She can be too impulsive. Keep her focused on the plan."
"I will," he promised. "Why don't you come with us and eat? There's always room for one more."
"Maybe next time," she said with a cheeky smile, a smile that enhanced her almost insufferable cuteness. "I have some errands to run."
"Well, alright. Hope they go well."
"Oh, they will," she said with a smile, letting Tarrin leave the room. She looked to Binter and Sisska, and they all traded a calm, knowing look. Binter moved with surprising quiet as he moved to shadow the Princess, keeping an eye on her, and Sisska closed the door behind him. "We have much to do, Sisska," she said in a calm, businesslike tone.
"Much," the Vendari agreed. "Her Highness needs us, and we must help as we can."
Miranda sighed. Keritanima would not be happy about this. "Do me a favor and go get Jervis, Sisska," she said. "It's time that we had a little talk."
"It is about time," Sisska said bluntly, picking up her massive two-handed axe and setting it on her shoulder, then going out the door. Miranda bolted it behind her, fingering a small dagger she had at her belt.
Ahiriya was becoming an inconvenience. Jervis would listen to her, Miranda was sure of it. They may be at odds from time to time, but at the moment, they were working towards a common goal. She was sure that Jervis would agree to her little plan to get at the truth.
The truth was all that mattered.
Keritanima had taught her well, and unknown to her Royal employer, Miranda did alot more than she would ever know. Talking with Jervis wouldn't be the first time that the cute little mink Wikuni had acted outside her employer's knowledge, but it was always for Keritanima's good. Miranda took Keritanima's well being seriously. It was her duty, it was her role as protector, friend, and confidante.
It was her reason for living.
To: Title EoF