Etchings of Power (Aegis of the Gods) (17 page)

“No, Da.” Ancel shed his short cloak and hung it on the stand with the others. “I hurried home as fast as I could.”

Stefan waited for him down the hall. When Ancel reached his father, the older man gave his school uniform a quick inspection, allowing only his penetrating emerald eyes to move. His father paused at the stains on Ancel’s trousers where some merchant’s plums had found their mark. A ghost of a smile touched his father’s lips before he tilted his head to meet Ancel’s eyes. Ancel swallowed.

“I suppose those two told you about the trip to Randane?”

Unable to hold his father’s knowing gaze any longer, Ancel dipped his head, his face flushing with embarrassment. “Yes, they did.”

“Good. You must be on your best behavior this trip. Headspeaker Valdeen will be presenting the kinai to the King’s tasters this year, so you’ll be taking the horses. Social status and all that. Impressions, my son,” his father added in response to Ancel’s raised brows as he led the way through the study.

Ancel gawked. “Da, then you should—”

“Oh?” Stefan clasped his hands behind his back. “First you lie, and now you’re telling me what I must do?”

The words stung, and Ancel hung his head. He kept his attention on the bookcases lining the walls, then let his gaze rove across the long, polished table, and the soft chairs within the room. The plush carpet below their feet made for an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Ancel spoke up, “No, Da. It’s just that this trip is so important. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

His father’s voice softened. “You’ll be fine, I’m sure. Besides, I’m unable to make the journey this year. I have another meeting to attend.”

Ancel pursed his lips. “What could be more important than the King of Sendeth?”

“As much or more rides on my meeting as this year’s Soltide offerings to King Emory.”

“But, Da, without the King’s agreement the Council won’t be allowed to expand Eldanhill into a city as the Council wishes.”

Stefan placed a hand on Ancel’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Sometimes, son, one must sacrifice for the bigger picture.”

Pondering those words, Ancel was so lost in his thoughts it took a moment before he noticed his father’s sword. “Da.”

“Yes?”

“Is something wrong?”

They crossed into the large living room with its neat, cushioned benches and multicolored rugs. The aroma from the food grew stronger.

His father tilted his head slightly, his dark hair with its white streaks falling to one side. “What makes you ask?”

“Well, that for one,” Ancel replied, dropping his gaze to the sword at his father’s hip.

His father’s hand brushed against the weapon’s hilt. “And?”

“Charra’s been acting strange the last few days even before we saw those creatures in the Greenleaf.”

His father snorted. “There’s no accounting for Charra’s moods. He’s worse than a woman.” Stefan leaned his head toward the kitchen and dining room. “Don’t tell your mother I said that,” he added under his breath.

Ancel smiled. “And your sword?”

“We went to check this glen of yours and backtrack to where you said the beasts chased you. All the signs pointed to the creatures being mountain wolves or daggerpaws accompanied by hunters from the Seifer clan.”

“But Da, mountain wolves don’t have green eyes, neither do daggerpaws.”

“The eyes were the resinbuds playing tricks on you two. From the markings they left on the trees, I’m sure it was the Seifer. Looks like they’re feuding with the Nema again. Probably poisoned that secret kinai crop of yours because they figured it must be the Nema’s. You two boys were actually lucky. If you weren’t on dartans, I may now be in the Kelvore bargaining for your freedom. For now, stay away from those parts until I know this feud is over.”

Ancel nodded, but the way his father fingered his sword as he talked about the wolves wasn’t convincing.

His father continued, “As for my meeting. King Emory is sending a noble here. Some trumped up lordling who’ll meet with a Dosteri embassy to discuss the recent troubles. The King’s advisors suggested we get used to dressing the part of active Dagodin once more.” Stefan shrugged. “I assume they wish to impress the Dosteri with pomp and ceremony. As if that wasn’t enough, a Tribunal member is coming to mediate.”

Ancel faltered at the prospect of a High Ashishin’s visit. His father had said it all with as much interest as if this meeting was as common as the winter storms that blew down from the Kelvore Mountains every year. “Things have become that serious?”

“Serious?” His father’s voice rose a notch. “Not at all. The Dosteri have taken affront to the smallest occurrences of late. I assume the King would rather not have anything happen they could construe as an insult. That’s all but reassured with a High Ashishin’s presence.” Stefan paused, his thumb stroking his lip. “At any rate, this is nothing for you to concern yourself with, not at this moment anyway.” His hand dropped and began caressing his pointed beard.

Ancel’s brows drew together for a moment. His father often stroked his beard when he lied or only told part of a story.
What’s he keeping from me?
“Da, are you—”

“Ah, here’s your mother,” Stefan said as they entered the dining room. “Thania, love, you’ve outdone yourself.”

Ancel snapped his mouth shut as he noticed the dining table for the first time. Porcelain dishes filled with food were set out in neat lines around the marble centerpiece—a sculpture depicting Ilumni. His mother placed a plate filled with slabs of steak on the table. There were potatoes, cabbage, carrots, sweet peas, and sliced quail breast. Several bowls contained creamy sauces. Mouthwatering aromas rose from them that made Ancel want to rush to the table and dig in. Grapes, gooseberries, and sliced bananas adorned several platters next to a basket of freshly baked bread. A pitcher containing crimson colored kinai wine and another with kinai juice, its color paler than the liquor, sat next to each other.

“Mother,” Ancel exclaimed, “you did all this without the servants?”

His mother smiled. “I see my son has forgotten his mother’s ability to cook with the best.”

“I didn’t forget,” Ancel said in a half-hearted, embarrassed protest. “It’s just been so long.”

Mother looked thoughtful for a moment. “It has, hasn’t it?”

Ancel nodded. Remembering his mother’s cooking set his mouth to watering once more.

“Well, stop standing around drooling,” she said. “Go wash your hands and hurry back.”

Ancel didn’t wait to be told twice. Leaving his parents to their small talk, he hurried through the dining room and into the adjoining kitchen. He skirted the big oak table with its pots and cooking utensils, passed the large stone oven and hearth and stopped at the kitchen sink. With food on his mind, he quickly washed his hands and rushed back to the dining room. His parents stood at their customary positions at the head of the table. Ancel took his place and bowed.

“Ancel, seeing that this is all for you,” Stefan said, “Today, you’ll lead us with the prayer.”

Ancel nodded, closed his eyes, and began in the most reverent voice he could muster, “Dear Ilumni, thank you for the meal you’ve provided for us today. I pray you bless this food and this family. I thank you for allowing me to enjoy this meal with my parents this day. I beg your Battleguard keep me safe on my trip so we can enjoy many more days together. Blessed in your light, we pray.”

A sudden tightness eased up Ancel’s chest. Multiple shades of color bloomed around his parents. His head spun for a moment, and his vision blurred. The sensation was as if he spun himself in a circle repeatedly then stood outside his body watching himself fall. He grabbed at the chair.

“Ancel! Son!” His parents’ shouts sounded far away.

Ancel struggled not to topple over as his father’s hand appeared on his shoulder for support. Ancel’s body shuddered. He shook his head in an effort to clear the dizziness while his father helped him into the chair. His mother hovered over him, her hand dabbing at his forehead with a cool cloth.

“What happened?” his father asked.

Slowly, the room came back into focus around Ancel. “I-I don’t know. One moment I was praying and the next I felt dizzy and saw these colors.”

“Did you have lunch today?” Mother’s concerned voice overshadowed her stern expression as she leaned over him.

“No, no, I forgot,” Ancel answered before he could think.

“In Ilumni’s name, boy. I’ve told you time and again you need to eat properly,” Stefan scolded. “Your body must be fed as well as your mind for both to work in concert. Have you learned nothing of the Disciplines?”

“Stefan,” his mother said in the soft voice she used when she was angry, “Be a dear and take your seat.”

His father grumbled under his breath, but he complied.

Her hands shaking, Mother picked up a plate from the table and proceeded to heap food onto it. “Eat up before you faint again. And your father’s right, so don’t think I’m taking your side.” She paused for a moment her eyes distant, then said under her breath, “Maybe we ought to send you to the menders, but that wouldn’t cure what ails you, would it?” She finished preparing his meal then went to the opposite side of the table and took her seat.

By this time, Ancel’s head had fully cleared. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Mother waved him off. “No need to apologize. We’ve been meaning to have a talk with you,” She prepared a plate for herself and gestured toward Stefan with a slight tilt of her head.

His father regarded him without the irritation he’d shown earlier. “We’ve both heard the stories of all these girls you bed. We don’t approve.” Ancel opened his mouth to speak but his father overrode him. “You need to control your emotions as you’ve been taught. That’s not to say I didn’t have my day when I was a young man like yourself. But it’s not what you’re doing that bothers me as much as the why. Ever since Irmina left, it’s been as if a dark cloud has hung over you. You’ve even neglected your studies, resorting to brandishing your sword to impress the skirts. Treating women as you have will neither bring her back nor make you feel better about her or yourself. If you want to bed them, do so. But don’t do it out of spite or lead them on in hopes they will feel the pain you do.”

“What your father means to say is to respect women as you would me. If you wish to experience the many flavors of female companionship, I cannot and will not stop you even if it bothers me. But take caution with what you promise. We’ve had quite a few complaints the last few days. The worse of which has been Headspeaker Valdeen—”

“I grow weary of the man,” his father interrupted.

“As do many on the Council,” Mother said.

Ancel pushed a slab of quail into his mouth, hardly tasting it as he chewed. Knowing the Headspeaker had complained to his parents made him even more reluctant to go to Randane.

“Well, that’s part of the reason we’re allowing you to go,” his mother said.

Ancel frowned.
Did I say
that
aloud?

“Smooth things over with the Headspeaker. In turn, we’ll talk to whichever fathers have taken issue with your relations with their daughters,” his mother said.

His father nodded. “And when you return, resume your training in earnest. Take the same emotions that confuse you now and feed them into your quest to learn. Bind them to your will. Remember, control is everything if you wish to surpass me as a Dagodin. “ His features spread into a wide smile as he spoke. “Teacher Calestis stopped by today and said you could be the best student she has again if you would only apply yourself.”

Ancel held his breath, waiting for the outburst that would come if Teacher Calestis had told of the day’s earlier events. But none came.

Instead, his father said, “I learned as you must, that a man is only as good as his honor. Life is what you make it, son, and in turn, life shapes you. It’s up to you to work that shape into something positive. Yes, you’ll make mistakes along the way. But, remember, mistakes are lessons. Positive moments are gold. Collect both with the right person and you’ll be wiser and have a treasure of happiness for the rest of your days.” He smiled at Mother and in return, she blushed.

“Thank you, Mother, Da.” Relief washed through Ancel like a cool breeze. The dirty looks he’d begun to receive from fathers and brothers of the many women he bedded had begun to weigh on him. He knew it was only his parents’ status that prevented them from doing more than mutter veiled threats.

“Now, enough of that talk,” Stefan said, still smiling. “The reason your mother did all this is because you won’t be here for your nineteenth naming day.” He poured three glasses of kinai wine and passed them around. “This is to your nineteenth, son. You’re a man in every sense of the word now. You should be enjoying this time in your life.” Stefan raised his glass. “Here’s to you, son. We’re both proud of you.”

Ancel beamed and took a long drink. Warmth flooded his body.

“Oh,” his mother exclaimed, putting her glass down. “I have a gift for you.” She fidgeted in the folds of her dress for a moment before she produced something golden. Ancel attempted to see, but she kept it hidden as she stood and crossed to him. “Wear this always,” she said, her voice almost a whisper as she positioned herself behind him. “Promise me.”

A thin chain dropped around Ancel’s neck to rest on his chest. From it hung a pendant. He took it in his hand. An exact likeness of his mother’s face, intricately wrought in silversteel down to the shining gray blue gems for her eyes, stared back at him. Ancel’s gawked, but the only words he could find were, “I promise.” Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Thank you for being a wonderful son,” his mother said before she squeezed his shoulder and returned to her seat.

Still dumbfounded, the small talk that followed about his day at school and the preparations for the trip washed over Ancel. Several times, he touched the charm before he glanced at his mother. She graced him with a serene smile every time.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Stefan said. “You will be taking Charra with you.”

Ancel’s eyes widened. In the past, his father had banned Charra from leaving the Whitewater Falls area.
Now he wants me to bring him to Randane
?