Wolf's Blood (21 page)

She glanced over at her associates, and Amelo Soapwort rose to his feet and said, “Who are, frankly, honestly, and rather frighteningly, those who come closest to the mind-set of the most despotic of the sorcerers who reigned in the days before the coming of the Sorcerer’s Bane. They viewed their contracting and surviving the fevers not as a condemnation or punishment or as bad luck, but as a test that they had passed and that showed them to be among the elite.”

Amelo sat again. After giving him a nod of thanks, Rae continued.

“You may wonder how all of this is a reply to your question,” she said, “but I needed to make clear—at least to some of your number—that far from being free to come and go between the Nexus Islands and our places of residence, we were required to request permission to visit. Even when we did visit, the visits were closely supervised. We were made to feel like invaders, potential spies, and, perhaps worst of all, as inferiors who had shown themselves lacking in ambition and talent by choosing not to live among our fellow practitioners of magic. I cannot answer for all of the Once Dead here, but I know that for the last several years, whenever I wished to visit one of my friends or kinfolk, I preferred to invite them to my home rather than going to theirs. They, for their part, were usually pleased to leave the Nexus Islands for a while. After a time, I stopped inviting them, but made clear that guests were welcome, suspecting that too many invitations from me might mark my friends as somehow suspect.”

Aridisdu Shervanu from u-Chival said thoughtfully, “If conditions were as unpleasant as you say, I wonder that any remained.”

“I did not say they were unpleasant for the Nexans,” Rae corrected politely. “However, I suspect that for some of them the conditions were less than ideal. The hierarchy on the Nexus Islands names Once Dead as superior to Twice Dead, Twice Dead as superior to Never Lived. Moreover, within the Once Dead hierarchy, strict distinctions were made between those who possessed talents, and those who were able to cast spells.

“But you must remember, those who chose to make the Nexus Islands their permanent home had no good memories of life in their birth lands. They had fled persecution, had seen family and neighbors turn against them. Universally, they believed the Reprieve would end, fear would return, and persecutions would begin again.”

Uncomfortable shifting among the delegates gave mute testimony as to how close that Reprieve had been to ending in some cases. Bryessidan did not think he and his spies were the only ones taking note. Quite a few of the Once Dead suddenly showed hardened gazes and tightened lips.

Rae pretended not to notice, but went on. “So when the number of visits I received—already rather limited—dwindled, I cannot say I thought much about it. In Pelland, we were focused on various local projects. From discussions with my associates here, the situation was much the same for all of us. Ten years has been long enough that our homes are here, not on a distant island where we have been made feel increasingly unwelcome.”

Despite—or perhaps because of—Rae’s bitter eloquence, Kembrel Speaker was not satisfied.

“Still, what about scrying? What about other forms of divination? In my homeland, we find them quite useful.”

“So I have heard,” Rae said dryly. “However, long before we rediscovered those arts, the Nexus Islands were proofed against such magics. Just as the gates remained, dormant but useful, so those protections have remained.”

Kembrel nodded and muttered a polite thanks, but he looked uncomfortable. Bryessidan was unsurprised. Kembrel was certain to be reprimanded for letting so casually slip the full extent of his queen’s willingness to spy—possibly only on her subjects, but quite likely on her neighbors as well.

Bryessidan noticed that Rae was about to take her seat and said, “I appreciate your clarification of this last essential point, but if we could return to my initial question, what theories have you evolved that might explain why the gates have been closed?”

Rae glanced at Amelo and he twitched his lips in a tight smile. “If your throat is not too dry. why don’t you go on?”

Bryessidan wondered at his advisor’s self-effacement, for Amelo was normally quite content to offer his opinions, but Rae’s first words made the reason for Amelo’s choice clear.

“We believe there has been a radical change in government,” Rae said, and a slight change in her intonation made Bryessidan suspect she was reciting from a prepared statement. “This could take one of several forms. The first possibility is that one of the more powerful—and quite probably more ruthless—Spell Wielders has taken complete control. The second is a variation on this, that a small group—no more than two or three—has overthrown the former governing council.

“A third possibility is that the Spell Wielders themselves have met with an uprising among their subjects. As I noted a few moments ago, a strict hierarchy of precedence had been evolving over the last few years. It is completely possible that some of the Twice Dead or Never Lived became frustrated and found a way to overthrow the Once Dead, perhaps leaving a few of the less abusive alive.

“Fourth, and we all think this the most distant possibility, the Nexans have been invaded and overthrown. We know that their policy included investigating other, currently dormant gates, and thereby increasing their own sphere of influence. However, that same policy tended to focus on looking to open gates into lands tangential to their current sphere because trade routes and markets would already exist—and the opportunity to exploit these existing connections was seen as advantageous.”

A lean man seated at the end of the row of Once Dead added, “Not to mention such came closer to assuring familiarity with the language or languages spoken in that land. I remember early on—in King Veztressidan’s day—gates were opened into lands where we couldn’t speak to anyone. We had some real problems then. Being taken for monsters was the least of it.”

Bryessidan remembered that Amelo had seen Skea during his interrupted jaunt to the Nexus Islands, and recalled that Skea’s people had been one of those met up with during those days.

Loris Ambler of Azure Towers asked politely, “Could you explain why you think this invasion theory unlikely to be correct?”

Rae nodded to Amelo. “Please, take over for me. I need a drink.”

Amelo rose. “If the Nexans had opened a gate into a land tangential to one of those with an active gate—as was their policy—then I believe someone would have an inkling that this had been done. Each nation possessing an active gate has managed to get a representative here to the Mires—even though some of you had to travel a fair distance to pay us this honor. Unless someone is withholding vital information about a new gate in your region …”

He made a marked show of studying each of the delegates, but none offered any new information, so he went on.

“Which it seems that no one is doing, then we think this is a distant possibility. We have not, however, eliminated it from consideration, as it would provide a valid answer to one of the questions for which we do not have a clear answer.”

King Hurwin said, “And that is?”

“Who are the strangers many of us have glimpsed?” Amelo said promptly. “Given that our visits to the Nexus Islands have been less than frequent these last several years, and given that the Nexans do take immigrants—especially from among those who have experienced querinalo—none of us can claim to know everyone there. Equally, inhabitants who went there as children in the company of their parents have had time to grow and change. Still, when we compared experiences, we found that several of us had glimpsed people we did not recognize: a tall Once Dead with red hair, a man whose appearance and attire were similar yet different from that of u-Chival, a young man—some say young woman—of mixed ethnicity. One or two also glimpsed a young woman of apparently Pellish extraction but as she always kept to the shadows, it is uncertain whether she was in fact a stranger or merely a child now grown.

“What is odd,” Amelo went on, “is that although one or more of these people have been present when someone is newly arrived, not one of them has come forth to speak with us.”

Kidisdu Laloreezo asked, “Have all of you been spoken to by the same people?”

“By overlappings of the same small group,” Amelo said. “Some of you may know them yourselves: Skea the Twice Dead; Ynamynet the Once Dead; Zebel, a Twice Dead who, despite having no magical ability, holds a great deal of honor among the Nexans for his healing abilities; Frostweed the Once Dead, and Wort the Never Lived.”

“Always just these?” Kidisdu Laloreezo asked.

“Yes. Those recent crossings were rather momentous for all of us, so we were not likely to forget who greeted us. Moreover, as most of you here know, while these days I have had the pleasure to host some of my associates from other lands, we have tested both the gate here in the Mires and sent Once Dead out to check the gates in Hearthome and Azure Towers, since these could be reached in a few days’ travel. In each case, we were blocked. In each case, those who sent us back were from this same group.”

“One of the theories that you presented,” King Bryessidan said, “was that there could have been a coup among the Once Dead. Can you tell us how many of the Once Dead you have seen?”

“Leaving out the red-haired man none of us recognized,” Amelo replied promptly, “two. Ynamynet and Frostweed. Ynamynet is a spellcaster of some ability, but not a member of the upper hierarchy. Frostweed is not even a spellcaster.”

“And, as I recall,” Bryessidan went on, “Skea is Ynamynet’s husband.”

“Yes.”

“I find it very interesting that these two are represented among those—shall we term them ‘greeters’? I wonder if there has indeed been a coup from within, led perhaps by Skea and Ynamynet.”

Amelo glanced at the other Once Dead, and Rae rose. “That, King Bryessidan, is the theory which we favor. Ynamynet and Skea are quite likely conspirators against the extant power structure. Skea could rally both the Twice Dead and Never Lived to him. Ynamynet would know how to foil her fellow spellcasters. We even arrived at a reason they might so act.”

“Oh?” Bryessidan’s question was echoed by several other delegates.

Amelo resumed the role of speaker. “Skea and Ynamynet have a small daughter, born and reared on the Nexus Islands. If they perceived some danger to Sunshine, they might well act to prevent it.”

“Danger?” Again the question took the form of a general murmur.

Amelo colored beneath his gardener’s tan. “One of the most common things for a Once Dead to lose to querinalo’s fever is the ability to bear children. Sunshine is a child of a Once Dead and a Twice Dead. The likelihood, therefore, that she will develop magical potential is quite high. Moreover, my recollection was that she was a winning child, intelligent and energetic.”

Bryessidan, father of four children himself, felt a sudden flaring of fellow feeling toward Ynamynet and Skea. He knew how he would feel if anyone tried to take his children from him. He knew very well, for the likelihood that one or more would spend some years abroad as fosterlings was quite high, but at least no one would be able to take them from him without his consent.

“You think then,” Bryessidan said, “that someone might have decided that Sunshine would be better off fostered by another parent or parents?”

“It is not an unlikely possibility,” Amelo said. “As Rae noted earlier, there was a group among the Nexan spellcasters who were becoming increasingly autocratic. They regularly demanded tributes of blood from the Twice Dead and Never Lived, blood that they used in their spells and magical experimentation. To go from taking blood to taking a living child is not a great step.”

Amelo must have known his statement would fuel a negative reaction against all spellcasters—that is, all the Once Dead currently present—but he folded his arms across his chest and glowered at the assembled delegates, as if challenging any one of them to state that he and his associates had ever been guilty of such a heinous transgression.

After a long moment of uncomfortable silence. King Hurwin asked, “Have you seen any other Once Dead?”

“We have,” Amelo replied. “Frostweed who is one of those you term ‘greeters’ is Once Dead. possessed of a talent for making plants grow. However, what we have not seen are any other spellcasters. Ynamynet is the only one.”

“And the spellcasters,” Kembrel of Hearthome said in the tones of one who is making very sure that he understands subtle distinctions, “are the segment of the Once Dead who had risen to rulership.”

“That is correct,” Amelo said.

“More and more,” Kembrel said almost grudgingly, “this sounds like an internal coup.”

“But why,” asked Loris of Azure Towers, “would they close the gates?”

King Hurwin snorted. “That should be obvious. They are consolidating their position. Doubtless when the gates reopen we will be told that something nasty happened to the Spell Wieiders—a new form of querinalo, perhaps, that targeted spellcasters. They will present themselves as having all the most altruistic motivations you can imagine for closing the gates.”

“Possible, quite possible,” Bryessidan agreed. He turned to face the Once Dead. “Do you have anything to add?”

“Regarding the situation on the Nexus Islands,” Amelo said, “we do not. However, I would like your permission to make a statement, a statement for each and every Once Dead—not only those of us gathered here, but those who remained to attend to their duties elsewhere.”

Bryessidan glanced around the table at the gathered delegates, as if requesting their permission. In truth, he really didn’t care if they wanted to hear what Amelo said or not. He wanted to hear, and certainly that should count for something in his own kingdom.

“Go ahead, Amelo.”

The Once Dead shifted from foot to foot, showing an uneasiness he had not before. Then he cleared his throat and spoke in a voice that rang like a bell.

“We have been exiles before. All of us know what it is like to be hunted and feared. Even the younger members of our community, those who have come to age and talent since the Reprieve, know, because we have told them of our experiences. We have told them of watching those close to us suffer and die. We have told them of waiting to see whether the Sorcerer’s Bane would come to us in turn, of having the horrible suffering of that illness—and I assure all of you here who have never felt that fever’s heat, querinalo is truly horrid—increased by the knowledge that even if we lived, we would be ostracized for life.