Whisperings of Magic (3 page)

“Good,” it said. “We will have need of all the help we can get. Will you share some of my breakfast?” it asked, changing the subject decisively. It held out its hand.

“Gladly,” Catryn replied. She was hungry now. Truth to tell, she was not overly fond of raw grain but during the time she had spent with the Sele while the horse recovered from its wounds she had become used to the food. That brought her mind back to the animal. She looked around.

“It is in a stall at the back,” the Sele said.

She turned to Sele the Plump with a smile. “All this time I have known you, I did not know you could read minds,” she said with a laugh.

A strange expression passed over the Sele’s face, but it was gone as swiftly as it had appeared. “It takes no skill to know what you are looking for here, Catryn,” Sele the Plump replied dryly. “Come, follow me. You will see that Dahl has cared well for the horse.” It led the way into the obscurity at the far end of the stable. There, in the last stall of all, a huge dappled gray stallion stood as if waiting.

Catryn let out a cry and ran to it. She encircled its broad neck with her arms. The animal lowered its head so that Catryn could rest her cheek against its muzzle. Its eyes glowed with the dimness of banked fires as it whinnied in greeting. Catryn caressed the velvet softness of its muzzle. She had been the one to find this horse, and she had cared for the animal and nursed it back to health when it was wounded near to death. The finding of this horse had been the first indication that she had special powers. And, even more importantly, it had made the Protector, who had been so angered at her following Dahl into this world, begin to think that there was a place for her here after all.

“You will ride him on our journey?” the Sele asked.

“Oh, yes,” Catryn answered. Then she hesitated. Dahl had also ridden this horse. Ridden it into that battle against the dragon of Taun where the horse had been so sorely wounded. And where Dahl had received the scar that would brand him for the rest of his life. Dahl had cared for the animal these past three years. Might he not now think of it as his own? She buried her face in the horse’s mane and felt it shudder with pleasure at her touch. No. Of course not. It was unthinkable that anyone other than herself should be master of this horse.

Catryn spent the rest of the day in her own room. Dahl had his preparations to make; she would leave him to it. At dusk, as the sun was setting, she sank down onto the cushions beneath the narrow window. Closing her eyes, she raised her face, feeling the fading warmth on her cheeks and eyelids. She breathed deeply, then let her breath become shallow. The light behind her eyelids was rose-tinged. She looked deep into it, then deeper still. Gradually, the image of a glittering cavern began to etch itself upon the roseate background. Three long-robed figures sat at the far end of it. Catryn’s breathing became ever lighter until it seemed she breathed not at all. She let herself flow into her mind, into that quietly shimmering vision. Dimly at first, and then with ever more clarity, voices spoke into the stillness. She listened until the sun sank beneath the horizon, taking the shadows with it, leaving soft darkness behind. Only then did Catryn open her eyes, but long moments passed before she moved. When she did it was to stretch out on her bed and fall immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning Catryn prepared to do as she had been bade. She ordered a maid to fetch a bowl of water. After the girl had left, she set the bowl down onto a low table, drew up a stool and stared into the liquid. The rays of the morning sun struck and reflected flatly off the surface. At first nothing, then,
gradually, a thickening as of mist. The bowl ceased to be a bowl. The water ceased to be water. Catryn found herself swimming through the mist. She sent her thoughts ahead, probing, seeking the light beyond, but could not find it. The mist thickened until she felt it wrapping itself around her, holding her back. She concentrated, using every bit of power she possessed to see through it. Still nothing. Nothing but a dead, empty blankness. She knew not how long she remained there, throwing her will against whatever power it was that was blocking her sight. Then, just as she was about to give up, for one brief instant the mist dissipated. She saw trees, dark and hung with mosses. Beyond them a sense of walls, tall and foreboding. With the vision came a voice that seemed to echo and reverberate in her mind.

Come then, Catryn, it said. I am waiting.

Terror, swift and unreasonable, overwhelmed her. With one hand she dashed the bowl of water to the floor, then she collapsed, head buried in her arms on the table before her.

She was still there much later when there was a tap at her door.

“Catryn?” a voice called. “Will you come sup with us?”

It was Dahl. She raised her head, stood and took long, deep gulps of air. She saw by the light that came through the window that it was far into the afternoon—almost evening.

“Yes,” she called back, willing her voice to sound
strong and steady. “But a moment, please. Then I will be with you.”

She emerged to greet Dahl. Outwardly, she looked calm and unruffled. She had even managed to pull her hair back into a knot and tame it somewhat, although wiry tendrils were already escaping and ringing her face as if with fire.

“Will you sup with us, Catryn?” Dahl repeated.

“Are you ready to leave?” Catryn countered. “Have you finished your preparations?” The effort of controlling herself so that Dahl should not suspect how shaken she was sharpened her voice more than she had intended.

“Almost,” Dahl replied. The sharpness had not escaped him. “I am as anxious as you to be away, Catryn, but there are a few matters yet to be discussed with Coraun. He will eat with us—we can do so then. And, further, I would like you to meet him. I would wish your opinion of him.”

“If you have confidence in him, I am certain he will rule wisely while you are away,” Catryn said. Her words were clipped. She still could not quite rely on the steadiness of her voice.

“I am glad you trust my judgment so well,” Dahl answered.

Catryn looked at him quickly. Was there a wryness hidden in his words? Had he sensed her hesitation regarding Bruhn?

A wall of noise and smells greeted them as they entered the great hall. Long planks that served as tables ran the length of the room. Men and women sat at them, eating, drinking, talking to their neighbors and shouting to those farther away. Children ran about while dogs nosed indiscriminately amongst the rushes. Servants rushed back and forth, exchanging greetings and friendly insults with those seated at the tables.

“Who are all these people?” Catryn asked.

“They are the workers who till the fields, mainly, but any of the townspeople who wish to share our meals are welcome here at any time,” Dahl answered. He smiled as he surveyed the comfortable pandemonium in front of them. “They are my friends.”

Bruhn and Coraun sat alone at a table on a raised dais at the far end of the hall. They were talking earnestly, but their voices could not be heard above the general babble. Dahl led Catryn up to them, exchanging greetings with all on the way. Catryn smiled and nodded her head, but did not speak. Dahl took his place beside Coraun, then motioned Catryn to sit on his other side. Coraun rose swiftly to greet her, Bruhn a little less so. Was it her imagination or did a quick shadow cross Bruhn’s face at the sight of her?

“Good morrow, madam,” Coraun said.

“Good morrow to you,” Catryn replied. She fixed her eyes on Bruhn in a silent command. Bruhn must know from the very beginning who was in control here.

Bruhn flushed. He sketched the briefest of bows. “Good morrow,” he said quickly. The flush deepened.

Catryn acknowledged his greeting with a nod.

“I see you have learned the ways of power, Catryn,” Dahl said. The tone of his voice was jesting, but now it was Catryn’s turn to blush.

“As have you,” she retorted quickly.

“True,” Dahl answered. “You must bear with us, Bruhn, my friend.” He reached for a flagon of wine and filled Bruhn’s cup.

Bruhn essayed a smile in return, but kept his eyes averted from Catryn.

The table was laden with meats and cheeses. A pot of stew steamed in the middle of it all. Trenchers of hollowed out dark bread served as bowls, and more torn-off chunks of bread were available for dipping straight into the potage. Decanters brimmed with mead and wine. Catryn could neither eat nor drink any of it. All she could think of was the vision she had had that morning. She kept seeing those forbidding walls, hearing that doom-laden voice. He, whoever he was, knew she was coming. He was waiting!

Should she tell Dahl? Certainly she could not speak of it now, in front of Coraun and Bruhn. Perhaps later.

It was only with the greatest of effort that she kept
up her appearance of tranquillity. She spoke to Coraun about the preparations he was making for Dahl’s absence. She conferred with Dahl about the arrangements they must make for provisioning their own journey. But she did not speak to Bruhn. Nor did he speak to her.

When they had finished, Dahl rose and stretched. “Then we will leave at dawn on the morrow,” he said.

Now was the time to clarify the final matter.

“I will ride the horse with dragonfire in its eyes,” Catryn said.

Dahl looked at her quickly. His eyebrows rose. There was a moment of silence.

Bruhn looked from one to the other, uncomprehending at first, then he realized what Catryn meant.

“Surely the King of Taun should ride that horse!” he burst out.

“Magic calls to magic,” Catryn replied. “The Seer of Taun rides the horse with dragonfire within him.”

“Of course,” Dahl broke in quickly. “That is what I had intended all along. I will ride Magnus. That is my horse now.”

Catryn could not tell if Dahl spoke the truth or not, but she did not dwell on it. It was enough that Dahl had given in to her on this. Besides, Magnus, a magnificent and mighty black stallion, had been the Usurper’s own mount. It was fitting that Dahl should ride him.

“Bruhn has a favorite mount of his own,” Dahl went on smoothly, as if there had been no hint of
disagreement. “May we use the horse you brought with you, Catryn, for carrying supplies?”

“Certainly,” Catryn agreed. “She’s a calm little mare and very willing. More attached to Sele the Plump than to me. The Sele has its own mount, of course, and it can lead the mare.”

“Then all is settled,” Dahl said, but he made no move to end the meal. Instead, he looked down at the townsfolk who filled the great hall. His face settled into lines that made him look suddenly older. “Above all …” he began. His voice was so low that Catryn could hardly make out his words. It was as though he spoke to himself alone. “Above all,” he repeated, “I must protect my people and my land.”

“But are we to go unescorted?” Bruhn broke in. “Any one of those men and women—all of them!—would follow you willingly.”

“I know that,” Dahl answered. He nodded, still staring at the people ranged along the tables below him. Some of the children had fallen asleep on their parents’ laps. The noise was beginning to abate. “I know well how great is their loyalty to me. But I will not lead them into danger. It is I whom the Elders have summoned and I who must do battle for them. This will not be a conflict to be won by armies.”

“How will it be won then?” Bruhn persisted.

“That I do not know,” Dahl replied. “But I expect we will find out.” Finally, he rose to leave.

That was the moment when Catryn could have spoken to him, asked him to stay for a while. To talk
with him about what had happened to her. But something held her back. Dahl did not understand her magic. Whereas before they had shared nearly everything, this was different. This they could not share. For now, she decided, it would be better to keep her own counsel.

Still, she felt a stab of loneliness as she followed him out of the hall.