Wulfston's odyssey se-6 Read online

  “To you, perhaps,” said Wulfston. “Besides, Portia was a Reader.”

  “Which is why she could not act openly, as this African Adept can. But you are right, Wulfston. What made me think of Portia was the image of the spider with her webs spun throughout the kingdom. That was how Portia seemed to me, once I discovered her evil. I’m sure this Z’Nelia is quite different, probably more like Drakonius.”

  “So you think we should help Sukuru and Chulaika?”

  “Not until we find out what they’re hiding. The impression I got was that they are trying to use you. Their talk of freedom for their people is a sham. What they really want is the throne of Nubia-perhaps all of Africa-for themselves.”

  “That ragtag band?” Wulfston snorted. “Who would sit on the throne? Sukuru? He’s only a minor Adept. “

  “Yes,” agreed Lenardo, “they’re all either weak Adepts or low-level, untrained Readers. Their combined talents were nothing against you, and you’re not yet at the height of your powers. If their Z’Nelia is mature and as powerful as Drakonius was, no wonder they’re looking for help.”

  “Perhaps they came here,” Wulfston suggested, “because they knew I wouldn’t be interested in claiming a throne on another continent, and so would leave it to them?”

  “Unlikely. They seemed honestly amazed that we have an alliance of equals. It sounds to me as if their Adepts are still fighting one another, with the strongest subjecting all the others. So with his limited powers, I cannot see how Sukuru thinks to hold Z’Nelias throne, even if you should gain it for him.”

  Wulfston nodded. “Well, Read whatever you can at dinner without breaking your Oath. Even if I cant Read, I know there’s something more than our guests have told us so far!”

  Hoping to draw Sukuru and Chulaika out, Wulfston provided plenty of wine, and he and Lenardo, Julia, and Aradia told the story of the defeat of Drakonius-rather than letting the bard sing his distorted version.

  Zanos and Astra, another Adept/Reader married couple, joined the group at the long table. Wulfston was rather surprised that they had nothing to say, for Z’Nelia sounded much like the sorcerers they had encountered in Madura, Zanos’ native land, from where they had recently returned. Perhaps they were biding their time, unwilling to reveal what they knew.

  There were too many unrevealed secrets about that journey-especially why Torio, the blind Reader, had not returned from it. When the young man had developed the gift of prophecy, and known thereby that the woman he loved tnust seek her fortune in the frozen north, he had followed her there… and apparently lost her to Maldek, a Master Sorcerer. But then, instead of returning with Zanos and Astra, Torio had gone off on his own-to the east, Zanos had said, following some whim of his own.

  And leaving Wulfston without a Reader. He had Rolf, of course, and several Magister Readers as well as numerous Dark Moon Readers who had come to work in his lands. But Torio had been friend and equal as none of these could be. Blast Torio’s prophecies anyway! What had they done but lose him Melissa and send him off to seek his fortune away from all his friends? Didn’t Torio realize his absence weakened their alliance?

  But there was no use wishing for Torio. For the moment, Wulfston had Lenardo, the finest Reader ever known, to help him in this delicate situation. And Lenardo was explaining to Wulfston’s guests their entangled relationships.

  “So Julia is my adopted daughter, though I don’t think either of us often remembers that she’s adopted.

  Aradia is my wife, and that makes her brother Wulfston my brother, too.”

  Sukuru asked, “How comes it, Lord Wulfston, that these pale folk claim you kin?”

  “Ties of love may be as strong as ties of blood,” he replied. “When I was only three years old, I showed the first evidence of my powers.”

  A swift glance passed from Sukuru to Chulaika. The woman had worn her veils even to the table, slipping bits of food up beneath her silken mask; so that when she caught Wulfston looking at her she dropped her eyes and he could tell nothing more of her expression.

  Wulfston continued, “Aradia’s father, Nerius, stole me from the Aventine Empire, for the village folk would have murdered me for showing Adept powers in a land where only Reading was acceptable. They did kill my parents and my sister. Nerius was unable to rescue them, but he adopted me, and that is how he became my father and Aradia my sister.”

  “We grew up together,” Aradia put in. “It was no different than if we had had the same parents by blood; we were playmates, we got into mischief together, and we fought and made up, just the way any other brother and sister would. Because our Adept powers set us apart from other children, we were actually closer than most brothers and sisters. I had been a very lonely child before Father brought Wulfston home.”

  “And I was very young,” Wulfston added. “No, I never forgot my birth parents. Nerius had known them for a long time, and so now I can’t tell you which are my own memories and which are stories Father told me. He wanted me to remember my heritage, how proud my parents were that they had earned their way out of slavery and become Aventine citizens.” And then I developed the wrong power.

  Aradia stepped into the pause. “So you see, our alliance is like a family-we love and trust one another, even when we are under attack. And now that we are safe and secure, with our friends to protect us from unforeseen dangers, Lenardo and I are having our own child. She will not be only our daughter; she will be Julia’s sister, and Wulfston’s niece. That is the kind of family alliance you must have to fight a tyrant.”

  Sukuru nodded. “Yes, we understand, although I must confess I am amazed. Perhaps, then, most gracious Lord, you will advise us in our quest? Explain to us how powerful rulers may be made to work together instead of battling one another?”

  “Not all can,” replied Wulfston. “Some of our supposed allies proved false. They were with us when they thought we had a chance of winning, but turned to Drakonius when he seemed to have the advantage.

  But if you can find leaders who understand that striving for the good of their people is what keeps them strong, those are the lords who will aid you in your cause to rid your land of a tyrant.”

  Sukuru rose, and bowed to Wulfston. “We will heed your advice, most excellent Lord. Now”-he gestured to one of his retainers, who had stood guard near the door to the great hall all through the meal-“let us present you with a wine of our country-a toast to our success in gaining from you the means to save our land!”

  The man handed Sukuru an ornate vessel, slim and beautifully shaped, with two handles near the narrow mouth. This wine bottle could not sit on the table, for the bottom was pointed rather than flat. It appeared to be of fired clay, but it was painted in brilliant colors that flashed like jewels.

  Once the wax seal had been broken all the wine had to be poured out. Everyone at the table received a generous portion. Sukuru raised his goblet. “To the defeat of Z’Nelia- and anything we must do to free our land from her evil!”

  The wine was sweet, and heavily spiced; they would need no sweet to end their meal.

  Suddenly Aradia, who was seated between Wulfston and Lenardo, leaned over and whispered in her brother’s ear, “Come to our room after dinner. Lenardo has Read something.”

  Wulfston leaned forward to look at his sister’s husband, but Lenardo was taking a drink of wine.

  Obviously he did not want their guests to know what he had discovered.

  Wulfston took another swallow of wine and realized that the sweet spiciness was creating thirst more than quench-ing it. And he should drink no more wine; he’d had enough during all the toasts.

  He deliberately set his cup aside, and signaled to his butler. “Get a dryer wine from the cellars,” he instructed, “and some fruit juice for me.”

  “And for me,” Aradia put in. “I should not drink more wine tonight, either.”

  Eager to know what Lenardo had found out-and frustrated at the knowledge that the Readers at his table already knew it-Wulfs
ton wished he could cut the dinner short. But protocol demanded that sweets and fruits be offered, and then entertainment provided.

  His impatience grew as his musicians performed, and he found himself yawning. He was bored with the music. Well, what was the good of being Lord of the Land if he couldn’t stop the entertainment when he grew tired of it?

  At the end of a piece he rose. “Thank you for your fine music, my friends. Jareth, take them off and reward them suitably. Now, though, I know our guests are tired. My servants are available for anything you might need.”

  They dispersed to their own rooms. Wulfston took off his crown and chains of office, as well as the heavily embroidered tabard he had worn for the state dinner. Wrapped in a light woolen robe against the castle’s chill, he felt much more comfortable. In fact almost too comfortable…

  He was cold-cold and clammy. His head ached, and when he moved it hurt even more. Forcing his eyes open a slit, Wulfston groaned at the stab of pain from sunlight piercing his brain.

  He lay still, calling up healing heat, and almost fell asleep again as it did its work. Finally, though, the poisons in his blood were purged, and he rose to his feet.

  Although the sun was high in the sky, the castle was silent.

  In the hallway the guard slumped against the wall, so deep in sleep that Wulfston had to touch him to be sure he wasn’t dead. The man woke at his touch, though; he had been put to sleep with Adept powers, not drugged.

  “Go-wake the other guards and secure the castle!” Wulfston instructed, and hurried down the stairs.

  We are wide open for attack!

  In the great hall the board still sat with the crumb-laden cloth upon it. Most of the dishes had been cleared away, but the wine goblets stood at their place. Those where Sukuru and his people had sat were still full.

  Whatever Lenardo had Read when Sukuru had handed out the wine had been a ruse-something to attract the attention of all the Readers, so that no one would think to Read the wine.

  In the kitchen, Wulfston found the fire out, and Jareth sprawled on the floor. There was no sign of the musicians.

  He touched his retainer, and the older man moaned softly as he tried to wake up. He probably drank more of the spiced wine than I did. Wulfston thought, and sent healing fire to cleanse the man’s blood.

  Jareth slumped back to sleep.

  As Wulfston turned away, his cook came running into the kitchen in her nightgown. “Oh, me lord! What’s happened? No one woke this morning-not one of the servants is up!”

  “It’s not your fault,” he assured her. “Sukuru put everyone into Adept sleep. Make a big pot of strong tea, and start breakfast. Jareth should waken soon. Send him to wake up everyone at the dairy and the stables.”

  Wulfston, meanwhile, dashed back up the stairs. As he expected, he found Sukuru’s room empty.

  Foreboding in his heart, he knocked at the door to Lenardo and Aradia’s room. When there was no response, he opened the door, passed their servants sleeping soundly in the anteroom, and went into the inner chamber.

  Aradia lay alone in the bed, her pale hair spread neatly across the pillow as if she had not moved all night long.

  Wulfston touched her brow, letting healing power flow before he placed a fingertip gently between her eyes.

  His sister blinked up at him. “Wulfston what-? Why have I slept so late?” She sat up, looking around.

  “Where’s Lenardo?”

  “Aradia, we were drugged,” Wulfston explained. “The wine Sukuru served us-”

  “Drugged?!” Aradia’s naturally pale skin grew bone-white, and she clutched her arms across her abdomen. “The baby! Oh, Wulfston-get Lenardo to Read whether our baby’s been harmed!”

  “I don’t know where he’s gone,” Wulfston replied.

  “Aradia? Wulfston?” It was Julia’s voice at the door to the adjoining chamber.

  “Julia, come in!” Aradia cried. “Can you Read where Lenardo is?”

  “Not in the castle,” the girl replied at once. “What’s the matter?”

  “Please,” Aradia told her, “Read the baby-see if she’s been poisoned.”

  “Poisoned!” Julia’s eyes grew round with horror, but she laid a hand on Aradia’s only slightly swelling abdomen and concentrated. “No,” she said at last. “I can’t Read anything but a healthy baby, Aradia, and I’m sure Father will confirm that.”

  “You don’t have a headache, Aradia,” Wulfston realized. “Your body instinctively protected your child.

  You probably went directly into healing sleep and purged the poison from your blood at once. The drug knocked me out so completely that I couldn’t cleanse it away until I woke this morning.”

  “I took only a small taste of the wine,” said Aradia. “But where is Lenardo?” she demanded.

  “Wulfston-?”

  “Our uninvited guests have gone,” he replied. “Perhaps he followed them. ” But he braced himself so that neither woman could Read him, knowing that if the drug had kept someone with Wulfston’s Adept powers unconscious all night, Lenardo would not have been the one to waken first.

  Julia had taken on the abstract look of a Reader seeking something far away. “I can Read as far as the harbor,” she said, “and I can’t find Father anywhere.” Then she gasped, and her eyes focused on Wulfston’s face. “The ship! Wulfston, the ship is gone!”

  Julia’s powers, while impressive for so young a Reader, could not extend far out to sea. So Wulfston went to waken Zanos and Astra, for Astra was a Magister Reader who would be taking the tests for the Master level someday soon. If necessary, she could leave her body to Read for the ship, a skill Julia was not quite old enough to begin learning.

  By this time, Zanos and Astra had been wakened by their servants and had cleansed the effects of the drug from their own bodies. When Wulfston told them what had happened, Astra said, “You think they kidnapped Lenardo? Why would they do that?”

  “They drugged us,” said Zanos. “I wouldn’t put anything past people who would do that-and then steal a man away from his family.” He picked up the sword which lay ready beside his bed, ready to set out to Lenardo’s rescue.

  “First find out if he’s on that ship,” said Wulfston.

  “Of course.” Astra concentrated, her rmsband standing guard while her attention was elsewhere. While Astra was typically Aventine, tall and slender, with dark hair and eyes, Zanos was Maduran-a huge, red-haired man a head taller than Wulfston, with the well-developed body of a gladiator.

  That had been his profession, but he was far from the stereotype of the stupid warrior. Still, Zanos was an uncomplicated man, strong in his loyalties, devoted to his wife, and determined when he set his mind to something.

  Zanos and Astra were here as representatives of Lilith, a

  Lady Adept whose lands lay several days’ ride to the north. Hers were the border lands, where there was still the danger of attack from those who sought to test the vulnerability of the unwieldy amalgam of former Aventine Empire and savage lands.

  Had it not been for Zanos and Astra, Lilith would have lost her castle to marauders three years ago, when she and her son were away helping their allies to the south. Thus Lilith was determined to stay home now, because she had promised Aradia that later, when she came close to her time, Lilith would come to see her through the birth of her first child.

  Wulfston watched Zanos and Astra, wishing again that he could Read-if only just as well as Zanos or Aradia, for even the smallest ability allowed one to “listen in,” as it were, to a stronger Reader. Thus Zanos would be Reading through Astra now, as he stood by her protectively. He would know at once what she found out about Lenardo, while Wulfston had to wait impatiently for them to tell him.

  Finally Astra cried, “I’ve found the ship. Lenardo is on board. He is locked in the hold, but he’s still asleep. I couldn’t waken him. Sukuru has added Adept sleep to the effects of the drug.”

  “Mawort damn them to the torture pit!” said Zanos. “Lord
Wulfston, I’m ready to help you rescue Lord Lenardo. Astra?”

  “Of course,” she replied. “How soon can you get a ship ready, my lord? With the Adept power we can command we’ll soon overtake them. The important thing is not to let them get out of Reading range, since we don’t know where in Africa they’re going.”

  “Just let me get my hands on that Sukuru,” muttered Zanos, and Wulfston recognized that he was controlling fury. For a moment he didn’t understand Zanos’ concern over a man who was only an acquaintance, but then he remembered that the gladiator had been stolen from his own homeland as a child and, like Wulfston’s own parents, sold into slavery in the Aventine Empire. There he had been trained to fight in the arena, forced to earn again the freedom he had been born to.

  “I’ll call for a ship,” said Wulfston, and hurried downstairs. Jareth was now awake and alert, and he set the man to making arrangements while he went to tell Aradia-

  “Most excellent lord.”

  Wulfston whirled at the soft voice speaking from a shadowed alcove.

  The veiled woman, Chulaika, stood with her child huddled against her.

  “You! What is the meaning of this?” Wulfston demanded.

  “I have stayed to guide you, most excellent Lord,” she replied firmly, although he could see the fear behind the determination in her eyes. “You will need my help during your long journey to Africa.”

  “So!” he breathed. “Sukuru kidnapped Lenardo in order to force me into your conflict with Z’Nelia. Well, you’ve underestimated us, woman! Lenardo’s not our only good Reader. We’ve already found the ship, and we’ll catch up with it by sundown.”

  “Begging your pardon, Lord Wulfston, but you will not. You will need my guidance to find Sukuru-and to rescue your sister’s husband.”

  “Never mind,” he said impatiently. “Go pack your things. You’re going with us, so I can hand you back to Sukuru. And frankly, I don’t care what he does with you!”

  As he turned away from her, Chulaika said, “Pack for a journey, Lord Wulfston. If you do not, you will find yourself in a far country with naught but the clothes on your back.”