Sorcerers of the Frozen Isles se-5 Read online

  The belief that misusing one’s powers weakened them was such a basic tenet of Academy teaching that many of the minor Readers in that destructive group-mind found themselves mind-blind afterward. That was a normal temporary effect of using Adept power, but for these Readers it continued, because they believed themselves no longer worthy to be Readers at all.

  Within the past year, many had been brought gently back to their original small powers, and some were brave enough to experiment with Adept powers for healing or other positive purpose. But others had given up, and were trying to find a place for themselves as ordinary people with no special powers at all.

  Because of the widespread corruption and rebellion in what had been the Aventine Empire, the savage alliance had allowed little movement across the old border. After a year of savage rule little different for most people from what they had experienced under the Emperor, it was time to allow more freedom to travel.

  Readers on the Path of the Dark Moon, however, were astonished to be offered new assignments, instead of merely being informed by the Council of Masters that they were being sent to a different place.

  Both Wulfston and Lilith wanted to set up relays of Readers in their lands, to transmit messages both more quickly and more privately than the watchers did with their code of flashing lights.

  It still frightened many of these minor Readers to find the Lords Adept unReadable. But they could Read Lenardo, Master Clement, Torio, or Melissa-and they reassured them of the Adepts’ good intentions.

  Soon it was settled who would go to Wulfston’s lands-but the Lord Adept was shocked when Torio told him he would not be returning.

  “But why, Torio?” Wulfston asked. “Have I offended you in some way?”

  Torio shut out the vision of the hill bandits burning to death. “No, not at all. I consider you a valued friend, Wulfston, and I hope to work with you again when I return.”

  “Return? Where are you going?”

  “To Madura with Zanos and Astra… and Melissa.”

  “I see. But that’s not all, is it?”

  “What do you mean?” Torio Read Wulfston curiously, trying once again to detect some sign that the Adept was actually Reading. His sensitivity at times made any other conclusion seem impossible, yet once more Torio could feel nothing when he tried to engage Wulfston’s mind.

  “Torio, you have been avoiding me ever since we arrived in Zendi-and even before we got here, you hardly talked to me on the last day’s ride. I know that you suffered terribly when I burned those bandits… but you’ve been working with Adepts long enough to know that I had no choice.”

  “I know,” Torio admitted. “You did what you had to, but what you had to do, what you could do, was so terrible. I understand why you can’t learn to Read, Wulfston. If you once Read the effects of an Adept trick like that one, you would never be able to do it again. And in a similar situation, you’d be killed.”

  “Or I might be able to Read how to avoid getting killed without causing my attackers so much pain,”

  Wulfston replied. “Adepts are not callous, Torio-at least not all of us are.”

  “Oh, Wulfston-I know that!” said Torio, horribly embarrassed that his friend could think he thought ill of him. “It’s not you-it’s me. I still don’t know what I’m supposed to be-and I guess that’s why I can’t learn Adept powers, either. I’m terrified of what I might do with them. And then just when I’m confused enough already, I have to develop this new power-”

  “What new power? Show me!” said Wulfston, obviously expecting some evidence that Torio was indeed starting to develop the power of mind over matter.

  But at the Adept’s direct demand, Torio found himself once more speaking words whose source he did not know. “Your fate is linked with Lenardo’s-but it is your own destiny you will seek far away, only to find where you began.”

  “What?” Wulfston stared at him, puzzled.

  Torio shrugged. “That’s it. When people ask me their fate, I suddenly tell them something. Don’t ask me what it means, though.”

  “Well, I already know my fate is linked with Lenardo’s. Ever since he helped Aradia and me bring our father out of his coma, it’s been obvious that we share a destiny. He seemed to be my brother even before he married Aradia. But seeking my destiny far away-does that mean I’m supposed to go with you to Madura?”

  “No,” said Torio, again not knowing where the word came from.

  “For someone who’s confused about his own fate, you certainly sound positive about other people’s!”

  “I don’t feel positive,” Torio explained. “This isn’t like Reading, Wulfston. All I know is the words as they come, and nothing more about them. And I wish people would stop asking me that kind of question-it’s frightening when I blurt out the answer, whether I want to or not.”

  “You’re right that I can’t leave my people at this point,” Wulfston agreed. “I suppose if Melissa’s going, there’s no stopping you, is there?”

  “No, there’s not.”

  “Then go with my best wishes, Torio-and may the gods protect you.”

  Before the troop of Readers and Adepts could begin their journey to Madura, though, there was one more task to complete. The hill bandits were growing restless in their camp, and before they dispersed the savage alliance wanted to make certain they did not again consider an attack on any of their members. So a small group of Readers and Adepts set out to show them just how foolish such a move would be.

  Lenardo and Aradia led the expedition-not because their tremendous powers were necessary to the plan, but because both were tired of staying in Zendi to arbitrate political and social disputes.

  They jumped eagerly at the chance to ride out into the countryside.

  Lilith rode with them, paired with Lenardo’s adopted daughter Julia, whose Reading powers were quite amazing for an eleven-year-old. Lilith’s son Ivorn, whose Adept powers were developing strongly, was close in age to Decius, and the two boys were partners for the occasion.

  Zanos and Astra, Melissa and Torio completed their numbers, for Wulfston had returned to his lands two days before.

  Ten people rode out against two hundred outlaws, taking no army, no retinue. Their point was precisely to show that the small group could control such large numbers.

  Their arrival was perfectly timed. Two of the dead bandits’ horses had found their way back to the camp, prompting the outlaws to send out scouts-who returned to report all the attackers dead while the small party from Zendi had still not entered the area covered by the lookouts for the outlaw camp.

  Of the ten, only Lilith and Ivorn could not Read at all. The rest depended on Lenardo’s powers, for while Adept powers could be joined, a group of minor Adepts equaling the powers of a Lord Adept, Reading powers did not combine. Other Readers, though, could link minds with the most powerful Reader in the party, and Read everything he could.

  Lenardo was the most powerful Reader in the history of the Aventine Academy system-although the incredible growth of his powers had come only in the past two years, after he had left that system to interact with the savages. He could Read over great distances without leaving his body, and could discern the finest of distinctions in things so small as to be invisible to the eye. Not even other Master Readers could get a lie past him, and he had achieved the legendary ability to Read without being Read in return.

  And besides all that, he had learned to use Adept powers-at least to a limited extent, just as Aradia had learned to Read, although with little distance or discernment. As she exceeded the abilities of any Adept in memory, together they made the most formidable pair ever to rule in the savage lands. Fortunately, neither of them had been raised to be a tyrant, and together they were working toward a government that would allow their people some say in their lives without thinking their leaders vulnerable.

  This small expedition would surely become part of the legend they were building.

  The outlaw camp was in a ferment of activity as
the news spread that their Adepts had died trying to take Wulfston. Tork) and Melissa circled to the east of the camp as Lenardo and Aradia moved ahead to take up positions to the north. Zanos and Astra led the others around to the west, and within an hour they were all in position, linked easily by the eight Readers.

  Then they moved deliberately on the camp lookouts. Zanos and Astra slid off their horses, crept up on three men watching the trail below, and netted them in a seine such as fishermen used-or gladiators in the arena. While they were securing them in a hopeless tangle, confiscating knives and swords which might cut through the net, Aradia and Lilith were simply putting several other guards to sleep.

  Being bombarded with the images of all this happening at once was somewhat disconcerting, but Lenardo had become accustomed to assimilating so much sensory data, and helped the other Readers focus.

  Torio and Melissa crept up on a man and two women, whose dog raised its hackles and began to growl.

  “Wulfston would be able to calm him,” observed Torio.

  “Wassa matter, boy?” one of the women asked suspiciously-but the dog turned from growling to whining, wagging its tail and butting her leg with its head. And when she reached down to pat it, she toppled on over, asleep at her post. The man jumped up, but collapsed in his turn, as did the other woman as she turned to flee, caught as she was drawing breath to shout a warning.

  By the time Torio and Melissa had secured their prisoners so they would not be able to move when they woke, all the other guards had been similarly dispatched. The party from Zendi moved in on the camp from every side.

  They announced their presence with a circle of flame, shooting out of the ground all around the outlaw camp. People shouted and ran, dogs barked, horses reared and screamed.

  The flames disappeared as if they had never been-but the moment a hastily loaded wagon bolted, new flames shot up before the horses. They bucked, upsetting the wagon and spilling people and belongings in a tangled heap.

  The Readers and Adepts moved in, thunderbolts and sheets of flame preceding them, driving the bandits inexorably into a knot of frightened people in the center of the small valley. They moved between the shelters and wagons, leaving them on the perimeter, while the people were herded like sheep into a cluster where they could all hear what they were told.

  “Some of your people,” Lenardo shouted, “came into our lands and attacked two of ours-a Reader and a Lord Adept. They learned what powers we have-and that we will not allow such attacks on ourselves and our people. Now you must learn!”

  The smell of fear sweat clogged Torio’s nostrils. Almost two hundred people huddled, prepared to die horribly. Children wailed, parents having no words to comfort them. They were helpless, they knew it, and they were terrified.

  All but one boy-no, girl-who turned to face Lenardo defiantly. She said nothing, but her mind spoke resignation rather than fear, standing out clearly against the miasma of sick terror behind her. And there was something else-her resignation was not because she felt she deserved to die, but because she felt that the whole world was like-Torio could not Read her specific thoughts against the images of horrible pain and death flowing through the minds of all the other people. They were allowed to stew for long moments before Lenardo spoke again.

  “You recognize that we can easily kill you?”

  Frightened eyes looked all around the circle, as people clung to one another, shivered, and nodded.

  “You see how many of us there are? Only ten-but we are both Readers and Adepts. Together, we cannot be defeated!”

  Despair settled over the huddled outlaws, as they assumed the delay meant their captors planned to torture them before they killed them. Again that one girl’s resignation stood out from the despair of the rest.

  But then Lenardo added, “We do not plan to kill you.”

  Heads snapped to attention; minds surged with hope and suspicion.

  “We know what you are thinking,” Lenardo continued. “You can no longer plan a sneak attack on a Lord Adept in the Savage Empire-for there will always be Readers to see that no secret plan can be implemented. Nor can you commit crimes against our citizens-your guilt will be Read. If you want to become honest citizens and work for a living, you may return with us to Zendi-but be warned that it will take you a long while to earn our trust.

  “But if you wish to remain outside the law, then remain outside our borders! If any of you are caught trying to harm our people in any way, you will be executed-publicly, as an example to others. Do you understand?”

  They didn’t quite believe him-Torio Read the usual disbelief that such a powerful Lord could show mercy, which most of these people still regarded as a weakness. Still, relief grew, and he could Read some of them, especially families with children, whispering to one another that this was their chance to leave the outlaw life. Surely whatever work the Lord of Zendi assigned them could not be worse than the short, uncertain lives of outlaws.

  To complete the impression, the Readers and

  Adepts broke their circle and gathered on either side of Lenardo and Aradia.

  The cowed bandits hesitantly left their huddle and returned to their campsites, those closest to the gathered Readers and Adepts last, as if they were afraid moving would attract notice and perhaps arbitrary punishment. But several plucked up their courage and actually came forward to kneel before Lenardo and Aradia. “Me lord, me lady,” said the woman who appeared to lead them, “my man was one o’ them what you killed-please, me lord, lemme work ‘n’ take care o’ me kids!”

  “Of course,” Lenardo said gently. “Come back to Zendi. There is plenty of work for willing hands.”

  The girl Torio had noticed before watched skeptically. Now she gave a snort of disgust, and spat out something in a language he didn’t know-all he could Read was that it was one of those oaths so vile that the users forget what the words originally meant, passing them from generation to generation as words taboo in themselves.

  But Zanos strode forward. “You there-boy! You’re from Madura!”

  “She’s a girl,” Torio Read Astra tell her husband.

  Only then did Torio really “look” at the girl. She was somewhere about his own age, but because she was dressed as a boy she looked younger. Her hair, dirty and chopped off raggedly, was a slightly darker red than Zanos’, and her eyes were a clear green. The beauty of her sculpted face beneath the dirt and the hair hanging in her eyes showed him at once why she had hidden her sex while living among these ruffians.

  “Lass,” Zanos was saying more gently, in his native language. The concepts were concrete, mak-ing it easy for Torio to Read what he was saying even though he did not know Maduran. “Why did you come away from Madura? What are you doing among these outlaws? You are from my homeland, girl-tell me, how long ago were you last there?”

  Her green eyes flashed fire as she spat back, “Sorcerer! You think you’ll take me back to Maldek? I’ll kill myself first!”

  “What? Who is Maldek? Child, it is more than twenty years since I was stolen away from Madura,”

  Zanos told her. “I seek to find out whether any of my kin survived the raid in which I was taken.”

  “Why should I believe you?” the girl demanded.

  He didn’t have an answer, but his wife did. Astra turned to those bandits who had come forward to indicate willingness to return to Zendi and asked in the savage language, pointing to Zanos, “Is there anyone among you who knows who this man is?”

  That drew blank stares from all but one man, who squinted at the red-haired giant and replied in the same language but with an Aventine accent, “I rememberI seen him in the arena oncet. That’s Zanos the Gladiator.”

  “And where did you see him?”

  “Adigia-afore Drakonius took the last bit o’ land right where we was farmin’. That journey’t’see the games was the last time me an’ my wife had a happy time’t’gether.”

  “You see?” Astra said to the girl. “Zanos was inside the Aventine
Empire for the past twenty years, just as he told you.”

  “So what?” asked the girl.

  “So I had nothing to do with what is happening in Madura now,” Zanos replied. “Please, lass, if you were there recently, tell me what is happening in my homeland.”

  Zanos and Astra, Torio and Melissa took the girl-who had little to pack in the way of possessions-aside to talk while the rest of the bandits were loading their horses and wagons.

  “What is your name?” Zanos asked.

  The girl looked resentfully at Astra, and said aloud what her mind had already told the Readers: “Dirdra.”

  “Why did you leave Madura?”

  “I told you. To escape Maldek.”

  When she spoke the name, Torio Read a combination of fear, revulsion, anger, and despair.

  “What did this Maldek do to you, Dirdra, to make you hate him so?” Astra spoke gently, adding,

  “No-not to you, was it? To someone you love.”

  Forced to think about something she had thrust to the back of her mind, Dirdra lost some of her toughness. Tears burned behind her eyes, and one escaped to slide down her cheek. “My brother,” she said in a tight voice. “Maldek destroyed him.”

  “Killed him?” Zanos asked before the better Readers could stop him.

  “No,” Dirdra replied. “I wish he had. And I couldn’t-couldn’t stop him from-”

  A painful sob heaved the girl’s chest. Then, “He’s still alive!” she choked out. “Why didn’t I have the strength to kill him rather than let him live that way?”

  Torio Read odd flashes of a shadowed, bent figure as Dirdra fought her own memories, refusing the agony of seeing dearly what her brother had become. But all the Readers-even Zanos, Reading with Astra-recognized that Maldek had crippled him in some terrible manner.

  It was Melissa who asked, “Why?”

  “Maldek wanted me,” the girl replied. “He… wanted me awake and willing, not mind-forced, not orbu.”

  “Orbu?” asked Zanos, not knowing the word in what was supposed to be his native language.

  Dirdra said something else that Torio could not understand because Zanos didn’t. With the strange words, though, came images-a beautiful young woman, a handsome young man, physically perfect but without the spark of intelligence in their eyes. They were dolls or puppets, yet they were living flesh and moved with human grace.