Zandru's Forge (53 page)

Rumal went about her self-appointed tasks, as much a member of the party as if she had always belonged. After some grumbling, for Alaric resented having to make do with his little stag pony while Rumal rode a proper horse, the men accepted her as the boy she pretended to be.

Orain in particular took a liking to her, and when they reached Nevarsin, bought her a warm vest and stockings. When she caught a fever, he dosed her with an herbal brew his mother had taught him to make.

So she finds a place with us, where there is no other,
Carolin thought. He saw in her a kindred spirit, but could not foresee how well she would repay the kindness.

The fugitive King Carolin had so far eluded capture. Scattered rumors of his death proved false. The harsh treatment dealt anyone who aided or sympathized with him served only to strengthen support for him. Neighboring kingdoms snapped at Hastur’s borders, searching for any sign of weakness.

Often, Varzil thought of his friend, wandering the lawless lands beyond the Kadarin. Sometimes at night, he caught fragmented dream images, Carolin shivering by a pocket fire or with his sword drawn and crouched in a fighting stance. Carolin still lived, of that he was sure. He clutched that knowledge to him like a talisman.

Arilinn Tower, though not directly involved in the unrest, still felt the shifting tensions. Once messages flowed freely along the relays between all the Towers. Now Hali and Tramontana would fall silent or send only guarded communications. Almost every Tower from Dalereuth to Hali had begun making
clingfire.
Only Hestral and Arilinn were so far exempt. Since the incident which cost Auster his life, Arilinn had made no more weapons.

Varzil had been instrumental in keeping Arilinn apart from the conflict, although here, as elsewhere, the demands increased with each tenday: medicine,
laran
batteries for aircars or lighting, the building of fortifications or repairs. Despite Barak’s reservations, Varzil now had the status of
tenerézu,
a fully qualified Keeper. Arilinn could not function with a single Keeper in these times. Varzil had been adamant in working only on peaceful uses of
laran.

Varzil sometimes spoke over the relays with Dyannis at Hali. She sounded worried and distant. Rakhal Hastur threatened Serrais, seat of the Ridenow chiefs, and she feared she might be forced to make weapons to be used against her own kinsmen.

Carolin promised us that we might elect to remain neutral at such times, doing only peaceful work,
she said.
But the new king thinks otherwise.

Surely Rakhal would not force Lady Liriel or Maura Elhalyn to fight against Carolin,
Varzil said.

No,
she answered.
To do him justice, Rakhal offered exemption to those who had blood-ties to Carolin, so long as they swore not to engage in any hostile action against him either. But he has since reneged on that bargain after Lady Maura and several others left Tramontana. Maura said she could not continue to serve Rakhal after what he had done—but Varzil, was she not to marry him? I thought so when we were together at Hali that first Midwinter Festival.

So we all thought, Varzil answered. He did not want to
imagine what turned her from a man she had defended so loyally.

As for me,
Dyannis went on,
Rakhal has no care for any Ridenow sentiments. He has lost too many of his own leronyn to neutrality to be willing to release any more of us. I think he is growing desperate. What if he orders us to attack the Great House at Serrais, or even Sweetwater, for as you must have heard, Harald has declared his support for Carolin. I love my work here, Varzil, but I love my family also.

Varzil caught the wistfulness in her mental voice,
as
if she
were a child caught in an unpredictable and hostile landscape. Yet beneath it rang a core as tough and resilient as whipcord. Neither Dougal DiAsturian, the Keeper of Hali Tower, nor King Rakhal himself would find her pliant, were they to command her against her own conscience.

The next time Varzil took his turn in the relays, he signaled Hestral Tower. Within moments, distance compressed and he touched the mind of Serena, one of the monitors.

What news from Arilinn
? she asked.

He passed on the messages for that evening. Some were complex, answers to inquiries Loryn Ardais had made of the Archives of the
Comyn
Council, stored in the Hidden City. Some of these dated back to the height of the Ages of Chaos and documented some of the more bizarre types of
laran
. During this time, inbreeding and genetic manipulation resulted in strange and unpredictable Gifts. Loryn was particularly interested in the ability to sense the vast electric and magnetic fields of the planet itself.

The Arilinn Archives were huge and records of this age poorly indexed. It would help, Varzil said, if he knew precisely what bloodlines Loryn was investigating and to what purpose. Silently, he prayed it was not for the development of some fearsome new weapon. The Aldarans were rumored to be able to generate storms of devastating force. He shuddered silently as he remembered his visions, so many years ago, at the bottom of the cloud-lake at Hali.

One of the younger workers, a Rockraven boy, seemed to have some measure of this talent, but so little was known about it that trying to train it seemed like stumbling about in the dark.

Bumping into shadows and hay-racks,
Serena added.
Let me summon Felicia to speak with you. She of all of us knows most, for she is developing a matrix lattice that we hope will allow Marius to focus his talent. She thinks that if we can determine the right conditions far enough in advance, we can shift cloud patterns and moist air, or perhaps even discharge the electrical energy in some harmless way. Only last winter, we lost five families and as many fishing boats to a fire-storm.

After a few moments, Felicia’s clear mental voice reached him, embracing him in welcome.

Varzil could almost see her smile, the quick bright light in her eyes.
Are you well, beloved?

Exceedingly! Again, came a sparkle of delight.
I am working as a Keeper most of the time now, although not yet in name—Darkover is not quite ready for that! When I arrived, I was prepared to do battle with Loryn Ardais, to refuse to work on instruments of destruction, even if it meant doing nothing more challenging than distilling
kirian
and tending sick babies.

Varzil chuckled silently at the image of Felicia, her hair tied back in a kerchief, a screaming, red-faced infant in her arms. In his mind, her expression softened into tenderness. She lifted the baby and he realized the child was theirs. His heart shuddered with longing, but he knew it was no true clairvoyance, only a desperate hope.

In my heart, I share your wish,
Felicia responded.
I pray for a time when we may live it together.

Loryn is a surprising man,
she went on, returning to business,
a Keeper who encourages independence in others. I have his full support on my weather project. Eduin has been here this
past season,
and he has been helping me a great deal. Tomorrow night we’ll be ready to test the lattice he’s constructed.

She described what they hoped to do. Varzil was impressed by the creativity and depth of her work. Barak would never have permitted her such scope or allowed her to use her remarkable talents so rapidly.

And your feelings of trepidation?
he asked.
Have they been laid to rest?

She fell silent for a moment.
In truth, I do not know. There has been so much work to do, so many exciting new things, I have not thought much about it. Before I came here, I had not realized my own ambition
—
I certainly was not encouraged to follow it at either Nevarsin or Arilinn! After all those years spent hiding my parentage, it was not easy to draw attention to myself and my abilities. I am anxious from time to time, but it is on account of the leroni in my care and the enormity of what we aim to accomplish. We stand upon the brink of a new age, beloved, and you and I will be part of its making.

Varzil sent her a pulse of love and pride.
If you are not too tired, let me know the results of your experiment. I’ll wait tomorrow night in the relay laboratory.

“Your words brighten the sky,” Varzil repeated after they had broken rapport. Her presence filled him with the sweetness of a summer dawn. He longed beyond words to hold her under that shining sky.

The next night, Varzil had no work of his own. For the past tenday, he had been directing a circle repairing some of the houses within the Hidden City. As in the Tower itself, no non-telepath might pass within those precincts, so
laran
workers instead of masons placed the new stones. This labor also required daylight, but fortunately there were few ordinary by standers. Any
Comyn
with business in the Hidden City knew better than to disturb a working circle.

This had been a particularly demanding day, using the combined mental power of the circle to lift, resurface, and replace several massive stones. It was not hazardous work in itself, but the power required drained vital energies. Afterward, he insisted that Fidelis monitor each member of his circle to make sure no one was dangerously depleted.

“No one but you yourself,” Fidelis told him. “You of all people should know better than to stay up half the night on the relays and then put in a day’s work as Keeper on a project like this. You are hereby ordered to eat and then sleep.”

Varzil readily agreed to the food, but would not break his rendezvous with Felicia. Fidelis was a good enough telepath to pick up the flicker of his thought.

“You will make yourself ill if you abuse your body in this manner. How can you set an example as Keeper, or truly be responsible for those in your circle, when you yourself behave in such a reckless manner?”

“I am a Keeper, and know my own limits.”

“You are an idiot if you do not listen to your monitor!”

Varzil refused to be drawn into an argument. He knew that Fidelis spoke out of love. “I promise I won’t allow myself to get too tired.”

“I have ordered you to rest. If you refuse, I cannot force you. I ask you to consider the consequences, not only to yourself, but to those in your circle, if you collapse because of stubborn pride.”

Varzil told himself that his emotional well-being was as important as any other aspect of his life. He was tired, true, but not too tired to work effectively. He relented enough to eat a hot meal before resting on one of the cushioned divans in the common room.

He started awake at the sound of footsteps and voices. “Has word come from Hestral?”

Marella turned from Richardo at her side, with a startled expression. Both of them were robed for
laran
work, and she looked pale and drawn. “No, nothing from Hestral. But there’s word from Hali that Rakhal Hastur has executed Lord Valdrin Castamir and all his sons and then sent aircars with
clingfire
to burn Highgarth Castle to the ground.”

“Horrible,” Richardo said.

“Valdrin Castamir?” Cerriana, coming downstairs a pace behind them, asked. “What has he done to so anger King Rakhal?”

“He gave shelter to Carolin as he fled to safety,” Varzil said. “And Rakhal, who had been as a brother to him, could not abide that act of loyalty.”

“Don’t let Barak hear you say such things!” Marella said.