chapter four
And there went Lida Vianna with her big strong hero, back to the city as if all the problems in the world were now solved. Lendora closed the wrought iron gate with a clang, waved one last time, and then chewed some more on her envy. It was improper, of course, but there it was, unblinking and unavoidable though she tried to fill her mind with healthy thoughts. Lida got what Lida wanted. So it had always been, so it would always be. First Krysli, first to rebel against Randle, first Krysli-turned councilor, and now she had The Man Without Armor on her arm, doting on her like the common folk at the citadel. And she was so beautiful, with her strange pale skin, burning auburn-red hair, those piercing eyes. The way she walked, it was as if the world lay prostrate at her feet in adulation. Lendora could not fairly blame her for thinking the world was hers for the taking. For taking the world seemed to be exactly what Lida was about.
Lendora strode deep in pensive thought down the path, surrounded by tall rokam trees. When had she added Garth Vencher to her collection? It did not seem fair. All the world and Garth Vencher, too. With a visible start, Lendora shook her head and tried to shake this doleful mood, these improper thoughts. One should not envy others, one should focus on making one's self the brightest star that could ever shine. This was wisdom, and she labored to know it fully, and apply it to her own life. Yet sometimes the bitterness took hold and conflicted her mind. Why, oh why could her mind not be at peace?
Like Lida Vianna's.
Lendora kicked a stone by the path and pretended it was the sum of her dark thoughts. It landed in a patch of streaming morning sun, piercing the veil of the forest canopy with ruddy optimism. There were worms on it. Eww. For the thousandth time she wondered, why did her moods swing so? Where was that elusive balance she sought and strove for, seeming in vain, day after day?
Unblinking and unavoidable. There was her home, Randle's estate, at the top of the hill as she rounded the path's final curve and entered the clearing. There was Kerisa, and Telirrin, fetching water from the well. A few others dotted the wide yard, flitting in and out of the shadow of the Magician's home. Their home. So far from the homes they knew. None of the faces of these, her friends and fellow Krysli, betrayed any sign of conflicted thoughts nor bitterness. Was she truly the only one?
The only one to long for the company of regular people? All the Krysli knew, it seemed, were the soldiers they served with along the Northern Watch in shifts, each other, and Randle. Lendora was tired of soldiers, Krysli, and Randle. She decided to look for the stranger as soon as she returned to the mansion.
"Lendora, do you fly with us this afternoon?" Plum-faced Brinna and her constant companion Elona emerged from the shadow of the great house. They were numbers eighteen and twenty-two, respectively. All of the Krysli had numbers, whether they thought about it consciously or not. The order of their admittance to Randle's training. It amounted in some ways to a pecking order, a line of seniority. One of greater number and thus later arrival to the Order of the Krysli should always defer to one of lesser number and longer service. Lendora was acutely aware of her own number. Twelve. And the recently departed councilor, who was and always would be number one, though she no longer served.
Lendora smiled and practically chirruped her answer. "Of course I fly with you, Brinna. Someone must endeavor to keep you children in line." Her smile was warm and her wayward mood now chose to follow suit, even as she passed the pair with a wave and entered into the cool morning shadow of the great house. Now she was happy again. Unblinking and unavoidable.
The tall door was open, and Lendora offered a minor courtesy to the woman inside as she crossed the threshold. Kereina. She was number two, the highest ranking Krysli that remained, and she was usually to be found near the doorway. Always watching. Her loyalty to Randle was as close to absolute as his odd mannerisms would allow. Kereina behaved as though she expected all of Godii to appear at the Magician's doorstep any day now, and as one quite prepared to destroy them all. She commanded respect.
Lendora passed into the house and thought about how much she would like to command such respect. Keeping her thoughts and her movements silent, she sought out the room upstairs where they had placed the strange, wild man.
She paused outside his door because she heard tittering on the far side. She flung the door open to see the wild man naked and bent over, intent on sorting through a pile of clothes on his bed. Behind him, numbers twenty and twenty-eight--she had no time at the sight of this to conjure up their names--were giggling like blessed children. Children. Lendora cleared her throat with a stern expression and waited. Twenty, Brelenni was her name, blushed but stood proudly. "He seeks fitting raiment. We have brought all we could find from the Lightfather's wardrobe that might please him. He is," she paused and shared a guilty smile with twenty-eight, "long in the search." Twenty-eight (what was her name?) stifled a giggle at this, but dropped her eyes before Lendora's glare. Brelenni sought to continue. "Such was the master's wish."
Lendora had already checked her usual kindness and gentle demeanor at the door. "I wonder if it was his wish for representatives of the Order of the Krysli to entertain themselves at the expense of a stranger to our land who has yet to learn our customs concerning modesty and the right to privacy. You may leave now, and with any good fortune, I shall forget to inform the master of the choices his entrusted representatives made this morning."
Brelenni bristled for just a moment, then succumbed. The pecking order, the numbers, weighed against her and she knew that full well. Without further comment, the two girls swept out of the room. They would talk, of course, but none of higher rank would long suffer such chatter. Lendora was now alone with the naked man.
His body was lean but hardened in a way Lendora had never before seen. No surprise the younger Krysli might gawk. His skin was smooth and strangely pale, a rare coloration he shared with Lida Vianna. Not wishing to behave any worse than those just chastened, Lendora caught his eye as he held a black shirt up for inspection and made what she hoped was a clear motion that he should hurry and dress himself. He grinned that wild smile of his--so utterly without guile, Lendora thought--and dropped the shirt to the floor. Now he was fully exposed to her, without shame or apology.
"Pretty! You the pretty one!"
Lendora's eyes grew wide despite herself. He could already speak the language? Crowded close behind this amazement was the realization that she was blushing. Lendora lowered her eyes, committed certain sights to memory, and motioned again for him to finish dressing with an inward smile. Take that, Lida Vianna!
The next fortnight passed without event, much like a score of fortnights before and likely the score that would follow. The Krysli had secured a peace with their watchful vigil. It had been two, perhaps three summers since the Godiians had made any serious attempt to test that vigil along the Northern Watch. The Five nations lived, loved, and slept peacefully under the guard of the Krysli. Lendora took her turn on the Northern Watch with nine others, their flight paths soon diverging to their widely-spaced designated stations among the garrisons and watchtowers of the common soldiery. She returned as quietly as she had departed, arriving last of her nine and just in time for dinner. She had tarried speaking with a guard given to humor and long-winded jokes. He had reminded her of her brother, so she had paid him attention longer than intended. It had been Lendora's hope to arrive in early afternoon and seek out again the wild man.
As it was, she sought out her place at the long table. Randle was already eating, the wild man perfectly mimicking his movements and choices at his right side. At his left was, of course, Keneira, the picture perfect of proper lady-like decorum as she supped. The wild man, and for that matter, Randle himself, might as well have been beasts at the trough seated so close to her graces.
Lendora took her seat in the middle of the table and did her best to match the older Krysli's regal bearing. The conversation around her was hushed and light, as usual, but tinged now with some measure of excitement. Tittering, this childish giggling that Randle fostered and elder soldiers and persons of state looked upon with contempt, burst out on occasion on either side of her. One would think these children had never laid eyes upon a man before. At least not one who eschewed a blue magician's robe.
It was curious, she thought as she sipped her drink. This man, a man as yet unnamed to her knowledge, had somehow come across and chosen rather Godiian attire. Flat black trousers and a diagonally-wrapped long black shirt, almost a tunic, bound by--she leaned back and took a peak, void take the tittering that might follow--yes, she had seen sooth. Bound by a bright red sash. Now shaven and groomed, it appeared for all the world that a Godiian commando supped at the table of the Krysli.
After dinner, Randle did not depart with a bow, nor call for song nor any other entertainment. He stood as he often did when there was an announcement forthcoming. "My dear ladies, our guest has proven a most interesting study, possessed of many unique gifts and talents. But tonight, I will let him speak for himself. Sir?"
The strange man stood as Randle took his seat. His grin, by now considered by most of the girls here a permanent fixture on his face, fairly glowed. Then he spoke. "Good ladies, kind Magician, I wish to thank you all for your hospitality. You have all been very kind to me, and I am humbled by your, " he paused and turned his bright eyes inward for only a heartbeat, "generosity."
The Krysli applauded without cue from Randle, Lendora with not the least fervor. How could one learn a new tongue so quickly? Were the hushed whisperings that this man was in reality a spy sooth? Yet look upon him, beaming across the length of the table dressed as the enemy. Surely there was no guile in those glowing eyes? Surely he was indeed a stranger from parts unknown? Just look at him bump his head on the table as he attempts a low bow in the southern fashion. No trained agent could bumble so naturally. So he was authentic, and had just spoken confident, accurate speech in clear voice with only a minor accent. Amazing.
Randle was beaming as well. How much of this was due to the master, and how much the natural gifts of the student? Lendora decided it was much more the student. Randle would more likely laboriously detail every step of the stranger's learning were he able to claim any amount of accolades for himself. Such was his manner. The applause was now an echo in the large dining hall. The strange man was still standing.
"Now. Who wants to wrestle?"
Titters and giggles flew and then dropped as Lendora stood tall to answer. "I will wrestle with you, sir."
Randle looked fondly upon her, then back to the wild man, who was now halfway to Lendora's seat. Lendora remained standing. This was fun. So of course, the Magician waded in. "Not at the dinner table, good sir. Tomorrow morning. I think it is time you learned something of the combat arts, and I could not think of a better trainer for you than lovely Lendora." Randle's smile fell upon her like a bad memory. Still, she was pleased as she seated herself. The wild man reclaimed his seat as if he'd understood Randle perfectly. Perhaps he had. Around her, Lendora heard the whispers and murmers, and yes, that dreadful tittering begin. Brelenni and her little friend had been talking, it seemed. Very well. Let them talk.
All Lendora cared for at the moment was that this man had called her pretty when she had most needed to hear it. She would very much like to hear him say it again, and that was as far as she allowed her thoughts to go. They would grapple, and she would learn more of him, even as she taught him. That was enough for her.
Dinner soon passed, and as the girls set about emptying the table and departing for their evening duties, Lendora could feel Randle's eyes upon her. Looking up, she saw him beckon her to his side. Without thought, she met him at the head of the table and waited for him to speak.
"Lendora, I think you will be a fitting teacher for our guest. However, he has displayed even more remarkable talents than his ready gift of speech during the fiveday you were away. He is possessed of remarkable, unmatched reflexes. He has already wrestled some of our finest, in game and jest, and they were all surpassed. Perhaps you misunderstood the laughter following your pronouncement. You will be hard-pressed to land this one on his back, for all your talents and skill."
"I hear you, Lightfather." It galled her to speak his formal title to his face. She did her best to conceal it. "Is that all?"
Randle sat and beckoned Lendora to take Keneira's empty chair. "There has been news while your shift was away. We have peace now with Bardeen. Soon there will be a ceremony, and the signing of new cords. As you may be aware, the tenth anniversary of our order also approaches with the waning of summer. I labor now, by courier to senior officials in the citadel, to seek a joint celebration."
Lendora was pleased to hear of peace along the Bardeenian border. Unbidden, a thought came to her that this would certainly free Garth Vencher, Bane of Bardeen, of his station along the border. All the more time for Lida to cast her spell about him.
"Why do you frown?"
A simple enough question. Such a complex answer. "It would seem, without the gift of your foresight and wisdom, master, that to combine the two celebrations might halve the proper glory of each. Can you share your reasoning with me on this?"
The magician's smile was wide and deep. Something important was afoot. No, something important had already been decided while she was away. Randle reached forward and stroked her hair. Lendora did not cringe, but held his eyes fast as he spoke. "Our government has held sway over our fate and station long enough. The Lower Council, the Higher Council, the Triad above all... they and that meddling General of ours. Tell me, little Krysli, do you not tire of living hidden amongst the wood? Do you not tire of feeling imprisoned by the will of councilors and soldiers? Would you not enjoy living in the citadel, among the very citizens we are sworn to defend, who all look up to you and your sisters?"
Lendora watched him cautiously. What was this about? "I still do not have the benefit of your reasoning, master." He was still playing with her hair. She still did not cringe.
Randle stood and moved behind her. He began to rub her shoulders. Lendora held her calm as she always did. As she had been trained. "These politicians and their various factions, Disromantics and Pacifics alike, claim as they have from the first that they seek only to protect me, casting me out to live hidden in Eastern Wilds. This is no life for such as we, and I have suffered it long enough. My precious children, you are more than capable of managing my safekeeping. And I, I am far from some helpless dotard. No, there will be a large, single celebration, and I will reveal myself to all. There will be no more secrets. It has been decided, Lendora. The Father of the Krysli shall hide no longer! Lida will speak first, as is her due given her station, and then she will present me to the people of Siguard. Let Graeme shiver in his keep! Let his spies run to him with news that will not avail him! I trust in the vigil of you and your sisters, Lendora. We shall live as we ought, and enjoy the luxuries our unwavering service warrants."
His hands moved further down. Lendora still did not cringe. Such was her own station. But did her head not sag the slightest bit lower now? Randle, as always, pretended not to notice. "Does it not please you, little Lendora, that we shall be free to live as royalty? Does this news not bring you joy?"
His hands continued to move as he spoke. Unblinking and unavoidable. Lendora detached her mind from her immediate circumstance on cue, and thought not of the promises of this wayward Magician. She thought instead about how she might indeed yet land the handsome stranger on his back. She kept her smile to herself, lest her master be further encouraged. She had not the strength for such duties tonight.
Randle did not seem to care or notice. Buttons were removed, and the Krysli at the end of the hall turned and closed the doors behind them. No matter. Tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow would dawn unsullied. Tomorrow would be fun.
Lendora strode deep in pensive thought down the path, surrounded by tall rokam trees. When had she added Garth Vencher to her collection? It did not seem fair. All the world and Garth Vencher, too. With a visible start, Lendora shook her head and tried to shake this doleful mood, these improper thoughts. One should not envy others, one should focus on making one's self the brightest star that could ever shine. This was wisdom, and she labored to know it fully, and apply it to her own life. Yet sometimes the bitterness took hold and conflicted her mind. Why, oh why could her mind not be at peace?
Like Lida Vianna's.
Lendora kicked a stone by the path and pretended it was the sum of her dark thoughts. It landed in a patch of streaming morning sun, piercing the veil of the forest canopy with ruddy optimism. There were worms on it. Eww. For the thousandth time she wondered, why did her moods swing so? Where was that elusive balance she sought and strove for, seeming in vain, day after day?
Unblinking and unavoidable. There was her home, Randle's estate, at the top of the hill as she rounded the path's final curve and entered the clearing. There was Kerisa, and Telirrin, fetching water from the well. A few others dotted the wide yard, flitting in and out of the shadow of the Magician's home. Their home. So far from the homes they knew. None of the faces of these, her friends and fellow Krysli, betrayed any sign of conflicted thoughts nor bitterness. Was she truly the only one?
The only one to long for the company of regular people? All the Krysli knew, it seemed, were the soldiers they served with along the Northern Watch in shifts, each other, and Randle. Lendora was tired of soldiers, Krysli, and Randle. She decided to look for the stranger as soon as she returned to the mansion.
"Lendora, do you fly with us this afternoon?" Plum-faced Brinna and her constant companion Elona emerged from the shadow of the great house. They were numbers eighteen and twenty-two, respectively. All of the Krysli had numbers, whether they thought about it consciously or not. The order of their admittance to Randle's training. It amounted in some ways to a pecking order, a line of seniority. One of greater number and thus later arrival to the Order of the Krysli should always defer to one of lesser number and longer service. Lendora was acutely aware of her own number. Twelve. And the recently departed councilor, who was and always would be number one, though she no longer served.
Lendora smiled and practically chirruped her answer. "Of course I fly with you, Brinna. Someone must endeavor to keep you children in line." Her smile was warm and her wayward mood now chose to follow suit, even as she passed the pair with a wave and entered into the cool morning shadow of the great house. Now she was happy again. Unblinking and unavoidable.
The tall door was open, and Lendora offered a minor courtesy to the woman inside as she crossed the threshold. Kereina. She was number two, the highest ranking Krysli that remained, and she was usually to be found near the doorway. Always watching. Her loyalty to Randle was as close to absolute as his odd mannerisms would allow. Kereina behaved as though she expected all of Godii to appear at the Magician's doorstep any day now, and as one quite prepared to destroy them all. She commanded respect.
Lendora passed into the house and thought about how much she would like to command such respect. Keeping her thoughts and her movements silent, she sought out the room upstairs where they had placed the strange, wild man.
She paused outside his door because she heard tittering on the far side. She flung the door open to see the wild man naked and bent over, intent on sorting through a pile of clothes on his bed. Behind him, numbers twenty and twenty-eight--she had no time at the sight of this to conjure up their names--were giggling like blessed children. Children. Lendora cleared her throat with a stern expression and waited. Twenty, Brelenni was her name, blushed but stood proudly. "He seeks fitting raiment. We have brought all we could find from the Lightfather's wardrobe that might please him. He is," she paused and shared a guilty smile with twenty-eight, "long in the search." Twenty-eight (what was her name?) stifled a giggle at this, but dropped her eyes before Lendora's glare. Brelenni sought to continue. "Such was the master's wish."
Lendora had already checked her usual kindness and gentle demeanor at the door. "I wonder if it was his wish for representatives of the Order of the Krysli to entertain themselves at the expense of a stranger to our land who has yet to learn our customs concerning modesty and the right to privacy. You may leave now, and with any good fortune, I shall forget to inform the master of the choices his entrusted representatives made this morning."
Brelenni bristled for just a moment, then succumbed. The pecking order, the numbers, weighed against her and she knew that full well. Without further comment, the two girls swept out of the room. They would talk, of course, but none of higher rank would long suffer such chatter. Lendora was now alone with the naked man.
His body was lean but hardened in a way Lendora had never before seen. No surprise the younger Krysli might gawk. His skin was smooth and strangely pale, a rare coloration he shared with Lida Vianna. Not wishing to behave any worse than those just chastened, Lendora caught his eye as he held a black shirt up for inspection and made what she hoped was a clear motion that he should hurry and dress himself. He grinned that wild smile of his--so utterly without guile, Lendora thought--and dropped the shirt to the floor. Now he was fully exposed to her, without shame or apology.
"Pretty! You the pretty one!"
Lendora's eyes grew wide despite herself. He could already speak the language? Crowded close behind this amazement was the realization that she was blushing. Lendora lowered her eyes, committed certain sights to memory, and motioned again for him to finish dressing with an inward smile. Take that, Lida Vianna!
The next fortnight passed without event, much like a score of fortnights before and likely the score that would follow. The Krysli had secured a peace with their watchful vigil. It had been two, perhaps three summers since the Godiians had made any serious attempt to test that vigil along the Northern Watch. The Five nations lived, loved, and slept peacefully under the guard of the Krysli. Lendora took her turn on the Northern Watch with nine others, their flight paths soon diverging to their widely-spaced designated stations among the garrisons and watchtowers of the common soldiery. She returned as quietly as she had departed, arriving last of her nine and just in time for dinner. She had tarried speaking with a guard given to humor and long-winded jokes. He had reminded her of her brother, so she had paid him attention longer than intended. It had been Lendora's hope to arrive in early afternoon and seek out again the wild man.
As it was, she sought out her place at the long table. Randle was already eating, the wild man perfectly mimicking his movements and choices at his right side. At his left was, of course, Keneira, the picture perfect of proper lady-like decorum as she supped. The wild man, and for that matter, Randle himself, might as well have been beasts at the trough seated so close to her graces.
Lendora took her seat in the middle of the table and did her best to match the older Krysli's regal bearing. The conversation around her was hushed and light, as usual, but tinged now with some measure of excitement. Tittering, this childish giggling that Randle fostered and elder soldiers and persons of state looked upon with contempt, burst out on occasion on either side of her. One would think these children had never laid eyes upon a man before. At least not one who eschewed a blue magician's robe.
It was curious, she thought as she sipped her drink. This man, a man as yet unnamed to her knowledge, had somehow come across and chosen rather Godiian attire. Flat black trousers and a diagonally-wrapped long black shirt, almost a tunic, bound by--she leaned back and took a peak, void take the tittering that might follow--yes, she had seen sooth. Bound by a bright red sash. Now shaven and groomed, it appeared for all the world that a Godiian commando supped at the table of the Krysli.
After dinner, Randle did not depart with a bow, nor call for song nor any other entertainment. He stood as he often did when there was an announcement forthcoming. "My dear ladies, our guest has proven a most interesting study, possessed of many unique gifts and talents. But tonight, I will let him speak for himself. Sir?"
The strange man stood as Randle took his seat. His grin, by now considered by most of the girls here a permanent fixture on his face, fairly glowed. Then he spoke. "Good ladies, kind Magician, I wish to thank you all for your hospitality. You have all been very kind to me, and I am humbled by your, " he paused and turned his bright eyes inward for only a heartbeat, "generosity."
The Krysli applauded without cue from Randle, Lendora with not the least fervor. How could one learn a new tongue so quickly? Were the hushed whisperings that this man was in reality a spy sooth? Yet look upon him, beaming across the length of the table dressed as the enemy. Surely there was no guile in those glowing eyes? Surely he was indeed a stranger from parts unknown? Just look at him bump his head on the table as he attempts a low bow in the southern fashion. No trained agent could bumble so naturally. So he was authentic, and had just spoken confident, accurate speech in clear voice with only a minor accent. Amazing.
Randle was beaming as well. How much of this was due to the master, and how much the natural gifts of the student? Lendora decided it was much more the student. Randle would more likely laboriously detail every step of the stranger's learning were he able to claim any amount of accolades for himself. Such was his manner. The applause was now an echo in the large dining hall. The strange man was still standing.
"Now. Who wants to wrestle?"
Titters and giggles flew and then dropped as Lendora stood tall to answer. "I will wrestle with you, sir."
Randle looked fondly upon her, then back to the wild man, who was now halfway to Lendora's seat. Lendora remained standing. This was fun. So of course, the Magician waded in. "Not at the dinner table, good sir. Tomorrow morning. I think it is time you learned something of the combat arts, and I could not think of a better trainer for you than lovely Lendora." Randle's smile fell upon her like a bad memory. Still, she was pleased as she seated herself. The wild man reclaimed his seat as if he'd understood Randle perfectly. Perhaps he had. Around her, Lendora heard the whispers and murmers, and yes, that dreadful tittering begin. Brelenni and her little friend had been talking, it seemed. Very well. Let them talk.
All Lendora cared for at the moment was that this man had called her pretty when she had most needed to hear it. She would very much like to hear him say it again, and that was as far as she allowed her thoughts to go. They would grapple, and she would learn more of him, even as she taught him. That was enough for her.
Dinner soon passed, and as the girls set about emptying the table and departing for their evening duties, Lendora could feel Randle's eyes upon her. Looking up, she saw him beckon her to his side. Without thought, she met him at the head of the table and waited for him to speak.
"Lendora, I think you will be a fitting teacher for our guest. However, he has displayed even more remarkable talents than his ready gift of speech during the fiveday you were away. He is possessed of remarkable, unmatched reflexes. He has already wrestled some of our finest, in game and jest, and they were all surpassed. Perhaps you misunderstood the laughter following your pronouncement. You will be hard-pressed to land this one on his back, for all your talents and skill."
"I hear you, Lightfather." It galled her to speak his formal title to his face. She did her best to conceal it. "Is that all?"
Randle sat and beckoned Lendora to take Keneira's empty chair. "There has been news while your shift was away. We have peace now with Bardeen. Soon there will be a ceremony, and the signing of new cords. As you may be aware, the tenth anniversary of our order also approaches with the waning of summer. I labor now, by courier to senior officials in the citadel, to seek a joint celebration."
Lendora was pleased to hear of peace along the Bardeenian border. Unbidden, a thought came to her that this would certainly free Garth Vencher, Bane of Bardeen, of his station along the border. All the more time for Lida to cast her spell about him.
"Why do you frown?"
A simple enough question. Such a complex answer. "It would seem, without the gift of your foresight and wisdom, master, that to combine the two celebrations might halve the proper glory of each. Can you share your reasoning with me on this?"
The magician's smile was wide and deep. Something important was afoot. No, something important had already been decided while she was away. Randle reached forward and stroked her hair. Lendora did not cringe, but held his eyes fast as he spoke. "Our government has held sway over our fate and station long enough. The Lower Council, the Higher Council, the Triad above all... they and that meddling General of ours. Tell me, little Krysli, do you not tire of living hidden amongst the wood? Do you not tire of feeling imprisoned by the will of councilors and soldiers? Would you not enjoy living in the citadel, among the very citizens we are sworn to defend, who all look up to you and your sisters?"
Lendora watched him cautiously. What was this about? "I still do not have the benefit of your reasoning, master." He was still playing with her hair. She still did not cringe.
Randle stood and moved behind her. He began to rub her shoulders. Lendora held her calm as she always did. As she had been trained. "These politicians and their various factions, Disromantics and Pacifics alike, claim as they have from the first that they seek only to protect me, casting me out to live hidden in Eastern Wilds. This is no life for such as we, and I have suffered it long enough. My precious children, you are more than capable of managing my safekeeping. And I, I am far from some helpless dotard. No, there will be a large, single celebration, and I will reveal myself to all. There will be no more secrets. It has been decided, Lendora. The Father of the Krysli shall hide no longer! Lida will speak first, as is her due given her station, and then she will present me to the people of Siguard. Let Graeme shiver in his keep! Let his spies run to him with news that will not avail him! I trust in the vigil of you and your sisters, Lendora. We shall live as we ought, and enjoy the luxuries our unwavering service warrants."
His hands moved further down. Lendora still did not cringe. Such was her own station. But did her head not sag the slightest bit lower now? Randle, as always, pretended not to notice. "Does it not please you, little Lendora, that we shall be free to live as royalty? Does this news not bring you joy?"
His hands continued to move as he spoke. Unblinking and unavoidable. Lendora detached her mind from her immediate circumstance on cue, and thought not of the promises of this wayward Magician. She thought instead about how she might indeed yet land the handsome stranger on his back. She kept her smile to herself, lest her master be further encouraged. She had not the strength for such duties tonight.
Randle did not seem to care or notice. Buttons were removed, and the Krysli at the end of the hall turned and closed the doors behind them. No matter. Tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow would dawn unsullied. Tomorrow would be fun.
<< Home