The Star Scroll Part 21

Chapter Fourteen.

Andry surveyed his audience, trying to banish a sudden attack of nerves. He'd used up his full quota of rea.s.surances getting Andrade to agree to let him rather than Urival experiment with a formula from the Star Scroll. He knew knew it would work. He had fretted with excitement all day long at the imminent prospect of proving his theory. But all at once the idea of working an ancient sorcery unnerved him. He gulped down the peculiar lump in his throat and composed himself. it would work. He had fretted with excitement all day long at the imminent prospect of proving his theory. But all at once the idea of working an ancient sorcery unnerved him. He gulped down the peculiar lump in his throat and composed himself.

He had chosen the little kitchen in the library wing for his demonstration. Not only was that whole section of the keep quiet and deserted at this time of night, but there was a necessary supply of running water and a hearth over which to concoct his potions. This was also the oldest part of the castle-he'd found its plan in one of the historical texts-and if Lady Merisel's spirit lingered anywhere at G.o.ddess Keep, it would be here.

Urival and Morwenna were to be his subjects while Andrade observed. Hollis was with them as well, looking a little strained around the eyes as she gave him a slight smile of encouragement. She believed in his interpretation of the scroll, and thus could not be part of the experiment. Instead she would help him and provide extra witness to what happened.

"I've chosen an ointment whose properties I won't tell you about just yet, so your reactions will be spontaneous," he began. "I've mixed two versions, one according to the recipe as it stands and the other following the indications of the ma.n.u.script code."

"I hope it's something you can counter with medicine of our own making," Morwenna said casually, though her suspicious gaze flickered to the pots on the table.

"Of course." He glanced at his great-aunt, whose face was perfectly expressionless. But her fingers beat slowly, arrhythmically, on the arm of her chair. Andry swallowed and attempted a smile. "It's nothing serious, believe me, and nothing we can't cure in an instant."

"Get on with it then," Urival said.

Andry directed them to chairs facing the door, backs to the hearth and the table where he would work from two small cauldrons. Hollis stood beside him, ready with clean cloths and a bucket of water. Andrade positioned her chair so she could watch everything, including Urival and Morwenna.

"I'm going to give you several doses each. You won't be able to see which pot I'm taking them from. They might all be the real thing, they might all be fake, or they might be any combination in any order." When all was ready on the table before him, well out of view of the subjects, he chanced another look at Andrade. She lifted one elegant brow in silent challenge. She wanted him to fail, to be proved wrong. The implications were too dangerous. Andry knew very well it was going to work, and at this moment gave not a d.a.m.n about the implications.

"Please hold out your right hands," he said. Taking a spoonful of thick, warm paste from one of the copper pots, he smeared a little on each upturned palm over the heel of the thumb. A few moments later Urival half-turned in his chair.

"So? Nothing."

"I know. That was made strictly according to the recipe. Hollis, can you wash off their hands for me, please?"

He dipped the spoons into both mixtures this time, placed a little of one on Urival's hand and the other onto Morwenna's. She tensed, expecting she knew not what-but it was Urival who gave a gasp of surprise and pain.

"G.o.d of Storms! My hand's on fire!" His fingers were trembling and the muscles of his hand cramped, drawing the thumb into the palm with a contortion as agonizing to see as it was obviously painful to experience.

"Wash it off, quickly," Andry said to Hollis. When she had done so, the muscle slowly relaxed, and some of the tension left Urival's face.

"I take it that was the real thing," Andrade observed in her coldest voice. The fingers of her left hand drummed the tabletop.

"Yes, my Lady," Andry said. "Morwenna, please dip your hand into the water. Thank you. Any aftereffects, Urival?"

"It aches a bit, but the pain's gone." He inspected his thumb, prodded the heel gently. "Leave it on longer next time. I want to see if it'll spread to the rest of my hand."

Andry said nothing, feeling Andrade's eyes on him like blue ice while he smeared the different ointments over his subjects' thumbs. Urival cursed, sweat springing out on his forehead. The deep lines on his face drew taut with pain as his hand began to cramp around itself.

"No-leave it on," he gasped. "It's spreading all through my palm-G.o.ddess!"

Andry winced in sympathy as his fingers knotted together, muscles contracting to draw bones out of alignment. Urival's other hand gripped the arm of his chair forcefully enough to splinter the brittle wood. Hollis reached over to wash his hand clean, but he shook his head, teeth gritted.

"Enough!" Andrade exclaimed as his wrist began to contort. Hollis bathed Urival's hand in cool water and his head fell back, his eyes closed and his face ashen. Andrade fixed Andry with a hard stare. "You proved your point."

"But it's not fair to let Urival be the only one." Morwenna turned in her chair and held out both palms. "Make one the fake and the other real. I don't know which it is from your little pots there."

Andry looked to the Lady; she nodded curtly. He applied the pastes to Morwenna's hands, and the fingers of the left began to curl up at once. Her breath hissed between her teeth. "Sweet Mother! He was right-my whole hand's afire!"

Andrade rose, grabbed the bucket of water, and plunged Morwenna's hand into it. "Congratulations," she snapped at Andry. "You were correct. Now destroy that terrible brew at once!"

"But-"

"Destroy it!" she thundered. "And you're lucky I don't order the Star Scroll burned as well! If this is the kind of knowledge it contains, then it ought ought to be burned!" to be burned!"

"No!" Andry exclaimed, unable to help himself. Hollis put a warning hand on his arm and he subsided.

"Hold your tongue," Andrade told him. "And say nothing of this to anyone. Do you understand me, Andry?"

"Yes, my Lady," he muttered.

When Morwenna had recovered, she and Urival left the little kitchen with Andrade. No one had said another word. Andry slumped into a chair by the glowing hearth and stared into the flames, grim silence like a too-heavy cloak on his shoulders. Hollis stood beside him, hands deep in the pockets of her trousers.

"She's blinded by fear," Andry muttered. "She doesn't understand."

"Perhaps you chose the wrong sort of demonstration," Hollis suggested. "It was dramatic, I'll grant you, but something that causes such pain wasn't the wisest choice you could have made."

"What else could I do? I couldn't very well make somebody sick and then cure it with something else from the Star Scroll, could I?" He rose and began to pace the tiled floor. "But I was right, Hollis. I was right. right. She just doesn't want to admit it. Do you know what it says about She just doesn't want to admit it. Do you know what it says about dranath? dranath? That it cures the dragon sickness, what we know as the Plague. Lady Merisel wrote in the scrolls that That it cures the dragon sickness, what we know as the Plague. Lady Merisel wrote in the scrolls that dranath dranath can cure the sickness, and we know that's right because we saw it happen. If we'd known sooner, if we'd had the scrolls, then maybe my brother Jahni and my grandmother and Lady Camigwen and all the others would still be alive! And can cure the sickness, and we know that's right because we saw it happen. If we'd known sooner, if we'd had the scrolls, then maybe my brother Jahni and my grandmother and Lady Camigwen and all the others would still be alive! And she she talks of burning the Star Scroll!" talks of burning the Star Scroll!"

The usually soft-spoken Hollis rounded on him in sudden fury. "Can't you see why she's afraid? She's seventy winters old, Andry! The scroll threatens her-not because she's set in her ways, but because she's old old and may not have time enough left to control the danger you've shown her! Can't you understand that?" and may not have time enough left to control the danger you've shown her! Can't you understand that?"

He stared at her. In all the times he had secretly put himself in Andrade's place as ruler of G.o.ddess Keep, he had never considered that one day he, too, would grow old, that time would grow short, that he would not be able to make plans and see them through. That he would die.

Hollis evidently found something in his face that satisfied her. In quieter tones she continued, "It's not that she doesn't want to know what's in the Star Scroll. She's frightened of a future she may not be around to shape. She's spent her whole life at it. Do you wonder that it scares her?"

"But she can't order me to burn it. She can't. can't."

"I don't think she will. She knows how important it is. But she also sees dangers you don't." Hollis rubbed her forehead wearily. "And forgive me for saying that you'd better learn to fear those dangers yourself."

Silently he took the two small copper pots from the table, went to the fire, and sc.r.a.ped out their contents onto the coals. A sickly stench rose and he coughed, backing away hastily as his nose began to burn. Hollis, who had also gotten a faceful of the smoke, staggered over to a chair and slid into it, choking. Andry glanced around frantically, barely able to see through the tears clouding his eyes, and s.n.a.t.c.hed up a cloth to soak in fresh water at the sink. He ripped the cloth in two, placed half to his own nose and the other against Hollis' white face.

"Breathe!" he ordered.

After a moment the burning sensation faded, soothed by the droplets of water they both inhaled. But their eyes teared and they coughed for some while afterward. When each had recovered, Andry crouched beside Hollis' chair and looked anxiously up at her.

She wiped her eyes and tried a smile. "It seems we haven't translated far enough into the scroll to learn that that one. Believe me now?" one. Believe me now?"

Andry bent his head. "Yes. I'm sorry, Hollis."

He felt her fingers tousle his hair fondly. "Listen to me, little brother-for I hope that soon you will will be my little brother. You're brave and clever and more intelligent than you have any right to be, and your gifts are far greater than you realize just now. I love you for yourself, Andry, and for Maarken's sake." be my little brother. You're brave and clever and more intelligent than you have any right to be, and your gifts are far greater than you realize just now. I love you for yourself, Andry, and for Maarken's sake."

"But?" he asked in a m.u.f.fled voice.

"You're young. It takes years to learn how to be patient, how to be wise and cautious. Don't let your powers and your intelligence blind you to the fact of your youth."

He looked up, about to rea.s.sure her that he would be cautious and wise. But the deathly weariness of her face swept all other thoughts from his head. "Hollis-are you all right? You look awful."

She chuckled softly. "Another thing you'll learn with age is how to talk to a woman. The proper words would be, 'You look a little tired, why don't you go rest?' But never mind. I'll find Sejast and get him to brew me a cup of that special taze of his. It works wonders."

"I feel in need of a little, myself," Andry admitted.

"He swears the recipe was given to him in secret by an old witch in the mountains," she said smiling.

Andry grinned and got to his feet. "Who made him swear never to reveal its contents, or she'd pry out his eyes with her fingernails and draw his veins from his living body-"

"Andry!" she chided. "Don't make fun. Maarken told me you were terrified of lizards when you were little, because you thought they were baby dragons that had crawled out of their sh.e.l.ls to breathe fire on you!"

"A perfectly natural a.s.sumption! But I suppose it really doesn't do to make fun of witches." He glanced significantly at the door where Andrade had disappeared. "You go to bed. I'll clean up in here. And you really do look awful, you know."

She pushed herself to her feet. "What happened to your share of your father's infamous charm?"

"I'm saving it for a girl who's not already promised to one of my brothers!"

It was very late, and Riyan had to keep pinching himself to stay awake. Following Lady Kiele on her nocturnal excursions in and around Waes was usually very dull. Tonight looked like no exception.

Riyan had made quite a few friends in Waes through the natural inclinations of a sociable nature, through ulterior motives, and through sheer boredom. His informant, the servant of Jayachin's father and sometime drinking companion at a local tavern, had heard from a footman, who had heard from an undercook, who had heard from Lady Kiele's maid (whom the undercook was courting) that she had ordered a horse saddled for an evening ride. A groom had accepted Riyan's help in readying the horse, and it had been child's play to cut a deep groove in the mare's off hind shoe. The mark would show up very clearly on ground still moist after the previous night's light rain, making it simple to follow Kiele.

Riyan had done just that after posting another servant outside his door with orders to answer all inquiries with the news that he was abed with a summer chill. Slipping out by one of the mult.i.tude of doors was easy. And now he huddled beside a bush, watching a small manor house tucked into a stand of trees.

The windows had been hung with black curtains, but jagged lines of light seeped through here and there, tempting him closer. He resisted, not knowing how many people might be within. He had no intention of being caught; he'd seen no guards thus far, but there was always a chance.

Over the spring and early summer he had followed Kiele whenever he could manage it. Most times she went to the homes of various notables in the city-including that of Jayachin's father. The visits were undoubtedly connected with plans for the Rialla, Rialla, but every so often Riyan strongly suspected that Kiele's arrival was a complete surprise to her hosts. She went out every eight or ten days, and once he had traced her to a dockside house. Investigation the next afternoon had revealed only a very large sailor and a very ugly servant woman, neither of whom he could imagine being of use to the Lady of Waes. Riyan had not seen her go to the house again, and cursed himself for scaring her away. His own visit had doubtless been reported, and she had not dared go there again. but every so often Riyan strongly suspected that Kiele's arrival was a complete surprise to her hosts. She went out every eight or ten days, and once he had traced her to a dockside house. Investigation the next afternoon had revealed only a very large sailor and a very ugly servant woman, neither of whom he could imagine being of use to the Lady of Waes. Riyan had not seen her go to the house again, and cursed himself for scaring her away. His own visit had doubtless been reported, and she had not dared go there again.

But tonight the marked horseshoe had led him from the city gates to this country manor. Riyan had lost her in a wood, not being overly familiar with the paths around Waes despite interesting excursions with Jayachin. (They usually had more to do than conduct a comprehensive walking tour-although Riyan had thus far enjoyed little romantic success.) But the nick in the horse's shoe had served him well, and he had only to conjure a wisp of Fire as needed in order to know where she had gone.

Kiele's journeys might be nothing more sinister than meetings with a lover-Riyan wouldn't have blamed her, Lyell being the dullard he was-but Kiele had struck him as a cold woman whose pa.s.sions would be reserved for power and hate. He'd heard the stories about her father and her sister Ianthe.

And there was an odd feeling slithering around the residence these days. Chiana, after being rebuffed more than once by Riyan, had at last left him alone and concentrated on Lyell. Kiele didn't even seem to notice. She spent a great deal of time away from the residence, saying she worked on arrangements for the Rialla. Rialla. But sometimes Riyan saw her sitting with plans spread out before her, staring into s.p.a.ce with a secret, feral smile on her lips. But sometimes Riyan saw her sitting with plans spread out before her, staring into s.p.a.ce with a secret, feral smile on her lips.

After waiting what he considered enough time to make certain no one would come marching around the side of the house with sword in hand to guard whoever was inside, Riyan moved closer. He was sufficiently familiar with the mare tethered outside so that the animal did not sidle nervously or whinny at this appearance; he patted her neck in thanks and crept up to the windows.

He could see a slice of the room through the c.h.i.n.k in the curtains. Clean, neatly but not luxuriously furnished, blazing with light that made him blink, it was the home of comfortable but not wealthy people. Kiele walked past and he started at her closeness to the window. She was wearing a light summer gown of green silk and he could almost hear it swishing with the angry swiftness of her steps. Riyan squinted, trying to bring into focus a figure standing just out of his range of vision.

A steely hand clamped own on his shoulder. "What in all h.e.l.ls are you doing here?" a voice hissed in his ear.

He nearly yelped with fright. Another hand grabbed his jaw shut to prevent just that. Riyan considered struggling, abandoned the idea as too noisy, and was just about to go for his boot knife when he realized the hand over his mouth wore rings. He relaxed completely and lifted his own hand.

"So," the voice breathed, and let him go.

Riyan followed the man away from the house. Safe in the cover of the trees, he saw a little finger of Fire dance delicately atop a waist-high bush, and nearly yelped again.

"Kleve?" he whispered. "What are you doing here?"

The older man grinned tightly. "What I've done for most of my life, of course-following Lady Andrade's orders."

"So am I! She told me to watch Kiele-"

"But not, I think, to follow her all over Waes and beyond." Kleve sank down in the dirt, shaking his head, and Riyan crouched beside him. "I can't tell you how many times I've had to hide from you as well as from her when she takes her little jaunts in the night!"

"You mean you-and I didn't see see you?" you?"

"Of course not. Count your rings, Sunrunner. And then count mine." Kleve gave him a genial slap on the shoulder. "You've grown since last I saw you at Skybowl."

Kleve was one of a few itinerant faradh'im faradh'im who traveled the princedoms at Andrade's behest, observing and reporting things that Sunrunners attached to specific courts did not usually hear about. He had been instrumental in certain maneuverings during the war the year Prince Pol was born, and during Riyan's childhood at Skybowl had sometimes arrived for a few days of relaxation, companionship, and good food. Ostvel set great store by Kleve, and a running joke between them was the who traveled the princedoms at Andrade's behest, observing and reporting things that Sunrunners attached to specific courts did not usually hear about. He had been instrumental in certain maneuverings during the war the year Prince Pol was born, and during Riyan's childhood at Skybowl had sometimes arrived for a few days of relaxation, companionship, and good food. Ostvel set great store by Kleve, and a running joke between them was the athri athri's attempt to persuade Kleve to become his court Sunrunner. Kleve hated walls of any kind, be they around a city or a small keep; he was happiest traversing the rugged lands around Cunaxa, Princemarch, and the northern Desert.

"Why so far from home?" Riyan asked now.

"I could ask you the same. Has Clutha given up and thrown you out of Swalekeep in despair at your ever becoming a knight?"

"He doesn't trust Kiele or Lyell, either," Riyan answered, grinning. "And I'm to be knighted at the Rialla. Rialla. Father will be here, I hope-say you'll stay long enough to see him." Father will be here, I hope-say you'll stay long enough to see him."

"Wouldn't miss it. Do you know what Kiele's up to?"

"I know about the house by the docks," he began.

Kleve snorted. "You mean the one you scared her away from? I could have throttled you for that!" He doused the finger-flame with a gesture and peered out at the house. "Get back to the residence now, Riyan. I can take it from here."

"Lady Andrade told me to watch," the youth said stubbornly.

Kleve gripped Riyan's shoulder. "Andrade would half-kill me and your father would finish the job if I let anything happen to you. So far you've been safe enough-you haven't seen anything or learned anything important. But if what I suspect is true, then it's more dangerous than you know to be here tonight."

"What have you found out?"

"A few things," he evaded. "I hope to know for sure tonight. You did me quite a service, by the way-by following you, I found Kiele. She's given me the slip the last few times out." He got to his feet. "I'm going for a look and a listen. You can help me best by returning to town. There's a goldcrafter named Ulricca who lives on New High Street. Meet me at her place tomorrow morning. Now, move."

Riyan looked rebellious. "Kleve-"

"Sunrunner you may be, and nearly a knight-but this isn't work for you. Do I have to number my rings and quote the authority they give me?"

"No, but-"

"So do as you're told. You'd better get started. It's a long walk." Kleve softened the command with an affectionate nudge. "I'll tell you the whole thing tomorrow."

"You'd better," Riyan muttered.