The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) (26 page)

Father nodded slowly. “What other preparations do you need?”

“The only other thing Trev said he needs is a new hut no one
has lived in,” Vatar said. “Arcas and I can build that this spring, easily.”

Gerusa stopped Miceus and Athra as they left their apartment
with their children. “Where do you think you’re all going?”

“To V-Vatar’s, for seventh-day d-dinner,” Miceus answered.
“F-Father said V-Vatar has brought his children here this year. And C-Cestus’s
children are there, too. And Thekila’s younger b-brother. They c-can p-play
t-together.”

Gerusa’s interest sharpened. “Vatar’s children?”

Miceus smiled. “Yes. He has t-twins, just over three years
old.”

Gerusa looked over Miceus’s children. “I don’t see why my
grandchildren should want to play with a pair of barbarians.”

Miceus took a step back. “I d-don’t see a p-problem with it,
M-Mother.”

Gerusa’s lips thinned at his resistance. “Well, I do. I
don’t see any reason why they should go with you.”

Athra sighed. She turned to take the children back inside
their apartment.

Miceus put out a hand to stop her. “I d-do. I c-can think of
three. They’ll m-meet m-more of their family. They’ll have f-fun. And they’ll
get t-to see s-something that they d-don’t often see around here—the way m-men
b-behave.”

Gerusa rocked back a step. Her eyes narrowed. “It’s a little
late in the day for you to grow a backbone, isn’t it?”

Miceus flinched, but he didn’t back down. “M-Maybe so.
B-Better l-late than n-never.”

Athra smiled up at Miceus and linked her arm through his.

Selene stepped up beside Gerusa as they watched Miceus and
his family walk away. “That didn’t go well.”

Gerusa lifted her chin. “He’s gone over to Veleus’s side. I
knew it could happen. But we’ve gotten one last piece of information from him,
at least.”

“What’s that?” Selene asked.

Gerusa smiled. “Vatar has brought his children to Caere. The
children he claimed would be our salvation.”

Selene frowned. “So? The High Council promised to leave
Vatar’s family alone.”

Gerusa shook her head and her smile widened. “No. The High
Council promised that his family would be safe here. It’s not
quite
the
same thing.” Her eyes narrowed. “But this time we mustn’t rush into it. We have
all winter to find the exactly right moment.”

Cestus pushed back from the table. They’d taken over a
disused conference room, now that their core group had grown. “Then it’s
agreed. The first wave will be limited to the rowers and the personal servants
of the Talented, especially the High Council. Inconvenience first, without
endangering anyone. We’ll reserve more serious matters for the second wave, if
it proves necessary.”

Belus shook his head. “I still think we need to strike
harder on the first blow. If we do no more than that, the High Council will put
us down before we’ve started.”

“Not so easy to do, if the most of the Temple Guard and even
some of the Palace Guard are on our side,” Sergeant Lideus of the Temple Guard
put in.

“We’ll hold the second wave in readiness as soon as the
first is triggered.” Cestus chewed his lip and narrowed his eyes in thought.
“In fact, it might be a good idea to set it to automatically trigger a
specified time—say . . . half a day—after the first
unless
it’s called
off
by one of us.”

Farus grinned. “That’d do it. Make it almost impossible for
the High Council to stop us. And they’d have to turn to us to put things back
together again.”

Belus drummed his fingers on the table and finally nodded.
“That should work.”

Cestus turned abruptly as a shadow fell across the conference
table from the corridor.

Montibeus looked in. “Ah. Belus, there you are.” His eyes
narrowed as he looked around the room. “What are you doing in here?”

“Uh . . . well . . .” Belus stammered.

Farus stepped forward. “We were just discussing some problems
we’ve all come across recently in our work—and what to do about them.”

Montibeus nodded. “Good. Always like to see initiative.” He
glanced at Cestus. “But, surely Cestus can’t share the same problems you have.”

Dinus laid a hand on Cestus’s shoulder. “No. I asked him to
join us. Sometimes it’s helpful to have an outside point of view. Cestus has
given us several very useful ideas.”

Montibeus nodded again. “Ah. Good. Carry on, then. Except
you, Belus. Where’s that report I asked for.”

Belus stood up. “All ready, sir. Right across in my office.”

Belus strode out of the room and Montibeus followed. As
their footsteps retreated down the hall, Cestus let out an explosive breath.
“Maybe from now on we should designate a look out.”

Dinus huffed a dry chuckle. “Maybe we should.”

It had been an unusually wet winter in Caere. At least the
farm was high enough above the city that they rarely had the fogs. It was odd,
though, to look out over the fog-shrouded city from the top of the hill.
Thekila said it was like looking at a cloud from above. She would know. Vatar
had never gotten used to the fog and now the damp weather tended to make his
right ankle stiffen—the ankle that had been broken during his Ordeal. So, when
the dogs began to bark, alerting him to someone at the gate, he was less than
pleased.

He walked slowly toward the gate to avoid limping. The
figure at the gate was cloaked and hooded against the weather, but the two dogs
at his side and the fine black stallion behind him told Vatar who it was
immediately. He picked up his pace despite the limp. “Sky above and earth
below. Orleus! We didn’t expect you until the spring.” Vatar threw the gate
open. “How did you make it up from Tysoe at this time of year? And why? Nothing
wrong, I trust. Not that you’re not welcome, of course.”

“Thanks, Vatar,” Orleus said, coming through the gate. “No,
nothing’s wrong. But you’ve no idea how I’ll appreciate a warm, dry place to
sleep and a good meal. It’s been miserably wet all the way up from Kausalya.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’ll take Racer to the pasture for you.
You know your way to the guest house. Go on and get clean and dry. Quetza and
Thekila are there, teaching Theklan—or trying to. I’ll hold my questions until
the evening meal. There’s no sense in you having to repeat yourself.”

True to his word, Vatar waited until they were gathered at
the evening meal, with Quetza seated next to Orleus. “So, Orleus. What brings you
to Caere so early? It had to have been a hard trip from Tysoe. The last ship of
the season sailed months ago.”

Arcas tilted his head to one side. “Yes. How did you even
get here after the ships stopped running?”

Orleus shrugged. “I’ve never minded riding across country.
The hardest part is finding a safe place to cross the river, but I got lucky
and convinced one of the boats to take me across Narycea Lake. Then it was just
a question of riding along the river until I got close enough to the coast. Usually,
the ride up the coast is quite pleasant. Well, I suppose at least there wasn’t
snow up to my horse’s hocks, but it sure was wet. Never seen so much rain.”

Orleus shrugged. “As to why, well I was planning to come in
the spring, anyway, for your exorcism. And there hasn’t been any activity in
Tysoe. Not a sign of the Themyri for more than a year. They’ve just
disappeared. And the snow’s too deep this year to patrol anyway. So there’s
nothing to do in Tysoe but stare at four walls. I was never much for reading
and I can’t carry a tune in a basket. And you can only play so many chess games
in a day.

“But the blades and arrowheads you made for me last year
were so widely admired, that the Tysoean council decided to have you make more
for the Guard. I decided that if I came up early, you’d have time to make at
least some of the commission and then I could take them back with me after this
exorcism Trev plans. I admit I wasn’t counting on the trip being quite so wet.”

He grinned at Quetza. “But it was worth it. The company is
much better here.”

Quetza smiled and leaned closer to him. “I’m glad, too. I
missed you.”

Thekila’s eyes twinkled with mischief as she looked between
Orleus and Quetza. “Well, it’s good you’re here.” She placed a hand on her
swollen belly. “Now you’ll be here for your nephew’s birth.” She chuckled as
her hand bounced from an internal kick. “In fact, I think it’s time we did a
little shopping in preparation.”

Vatar smiled and laid his hand over hers. “We’ll go
tomorrow.”

“I’ll go with you,” Arcas said. “I still bargain better than
Vatar. And I need to check in at my guildhall anyway.”

Gerusa turned and watched the three figures—two men and one
very pregnant woman—merge into the crowd in the Temple Square. She forgot about
the errand that had brought her out here the moment she recognized Vatar. The
pregnant woman might be his wife. She certainly bore a resemblance to the boy
who’d shown that surprising Talent. Gerusa had no idea who the other man was and
she didn’t care. Vatar was away from his farm. That was all that mattered.

She’d been waiting all winter for the chance to take
advantage of the knowledge that Vatar’s young children were here in Caere.
Vatar didn’t seem to leave his farm often. When he did, by the time her spies
reached her with the news, it was already too late to take action. She didn’t
dare strike during his regular classes with Montibeus. That would be far too
obvious and earn her the enmity of too many members of the High Council. This
might be the best chance she was going to get.

Gerusa turned and hurried to the nearby Temple Guard post.
She’d seen to it that the corporal who had first brought her news of Theklan’s
Talent was promoted and had kept him close for just such a need. It didn’t take
long to locate him. “I have a job for you, Tarus.”

“I am at your service, High Councilor.”

“You remember Vatar?” Of course he did. As the most likely
to recognize the boy, he’d been part of the patrol sent to arrest Vatar and
Theklan last year. At his nod, she continued, “I have information that he has
brought his twin children with him to Caere this year. Children who should be
raised within the Temple. Children who need the training only we can give them.
I want you to go to his farm and bring those children back to me.”

Tarus swallowed. “High Councilor, Vatar is—”

Gerusa waved her hand dismissively. “Vatar is in the market.
If you and your men go now, you will have no trouble with him.”

Tarus smiled. “At once, High Councilor. How old are the
children?”

“Three or four, I believe. Just young enough to adjust to
the Temple easily. Go.” She started to leave but then turned back. “One more
thing. To be on the safe side, you’d better bring them back by a different
road. That way, if Vatar finishes his business before you get back, you won’t
pass him on the way.”

Tarus saluted and went to collect his patrol.

Gerusa smirked as she left. “So, Vatar thinks he can cow the
High Council, does he? Make us do what he wants. Well, that works both ways. If
we have his children, he’ll have to do what
we
ask, including helping
with the Festival. And, if he’s right, if his children are the key to our
future, then we’ll just take control of that, too. And there won’t be anything
he can do about it.”

Theklan trotted his horse around the pasture. This was one
of the days he’d normally have been taught at home, rather than go to the
Temple school. But Thekila had gone off to town with Vatar and Uncle Arcas.
And, since it was the first day that promised to remain fair in almost a month,
Orleus had persuaded Quetza to ride out to the less-settled area to breathe a
little freer air. For some reason, they wouldn’t let Theklan go with them, but
they hadn’t said he couldn’t ride.

The only constraint on him today was his promise to Aunt
Elaria to keep at least half an eye on the twins while she was busy in the
house. He did check on them every time he circled around to that side of the
pasture. They were playing happily in the mud underneath the huge old apple
tree, so he urged his horse to a faster pace. He’d just reached the far end of
the pasture when he heard a crashing noise—much louder than the twins should
have been able to make—and the dogs barking fiercely. He reined in to listen. Then
he heard Savara scream.

He galloped back across the pasture, scattering the rest of
the horses before him. Before he pulled his horse up at the pasture gate he
could see seven men in the courtyard. One held Savara, limp as a rag doll.
Another was struggling with Zavar and the others were trying to fight off the
snarling, snapping dogs. He didn’t need to wonder who they were. It would be a
long time before Theklan forgot the uniform of the Temple Guard.

He dismounted with practiced ease. Slipping out of the
pasture gate, he stepped to the edge of Vatar’s workshop. With Zavar and Savara
playing in the courtyard, no edged weapons had been left out. But there was a
stack of long straight poles Vatar intended as shafts for the spears he was
making. Theklan took one. He took a deep breath, feeling very inadequate for
this. But he was the only man here—or, at least, the closest thing to it. He
had to do this. He took another deep breath and stepped out into the courtyard.
“Let them go!”

One of the guards looked up and laughed. “Look what we have
here. A cub that thinks he’s a wolf!”

The guard thrust almost playfully at Theklan with his spear
and was surprised when Theklan parried with almost professional ease. “Ho!
Who’s been training you, Little Cub?”

Theklan made a thrust of his own for an answer.
Wolf
indeed! He was an eagle, not a wolf.

“Stop playing around. We want to be gone before Vatar gets
back,” the sergeant called.

Theklan recognized the voice. He risked a look at the
sergeant. Sure enough, it was the same man who’d seen him using his Powers and
started all the trouble last winter. A shiver went down Theklan’s spine at the
memory. He knew something else. That man was cruel for the pleasure of it.
Theklan certainly wasn’t going to let him take Zavar and Savara anywhere.
“Coward! Afraid to come when there might be someone who could stop you.”

The sergeant’s eyes narrowed in recognition. “Watch it! That
little bastard’s got Talent. Just hit him over the head and be done with it.”

The guard moved to do as his sergeant ordered. He was taller
than Theklan, but Theklan managed to parry the blow. Then he feinted upward
with his staff. The guard moved his own spear back to parry and Theklan drove
the other end of his staff into his opponent’s kneecap as hard and fast as he
could. The guard almost dropped his own spear in pain and surprise, sinking to
his good knee. Theklan spun his staff to take advantage of the opening and
strike at his opponent’s head.

Someone struck him in the back before he could complete the
move. It was fortunate that Orleus was such a good teacher. Theklan didn’t have
to try to think through the pain. He dropped and spun his staff to strike at
the ankles of this new enemy. He heard the sergeant howl in pain. But then one
of the sergeant’s big booted feet came up and kicked Theklan full in the chest.
All the air was driven momentarily from his lungs. As he lay gasping on the
ground, he heard Zavar wail.

He couldn’t fight them this way. There were too many. The
only other weapon he had was forbidden. It was wrong, against the Tenets, to
use his Power to cause harm. But it was even more wrong to let these men take
the twins away with them. Another kick to his back almost broke his
concentration, but Theklan sought everything in the courtyard that he could
manipulate with his power. Rocks and fallen apples rose above the pavers. But
before he could organize his thoughts to use them to defend himself and the
twins, the butt of a spear came down on the back of his head. There was a
clatter as the rocks fell back to the ground, then only Zavar’s wail and the
sound of marching feet.