Chapter 16

She was once again in the ornately appointed study that so resembled Phillip's, only fancier. That told her right off she was dreaming, though she did pause for a long moment to admire the collection of books on the shelves. She wondered how much of the room's appearance was generated by her mind.

"Tarviel," said Siska, smiling warmly at the man in her dream. He had come to her again this night, and she was gladdened by it. "Why did you never speak to me before I came to Phillip's home?"

"I couldn't," he said. "You had to be awakened fully, when you could finally control mana consciously. Before that, you simply could not have heard me."

"Mother has the gift, too," said Siska excitedly. "She would love to speak to you, I think."

"Your mother and I have spoken," said the handsome man, shaking his head. "She was awakened by her mother, my daughter, at her proper time, when she was thirteen."

Siska simply stared at him for a long moment. "Mother was awakened?" she asked, a tone of incredulity creeping into her voice.

The powerfully-built man sat in one of the armchairs in the well-appointed study. "Your mother wanted things I could not give her," he said. "She was - eager - to learn of magics that are forbidden."

"Forbidden?" asked Siska, taking a seat opposite him and blinking as she noted two cups of wine had appeared on the little table between the chairs. Come to think of it, that table had not been there a moment before, either. She smiled at the mutability of this dream world, but soon scowled again as Tarviel spoke further.

"There are magics that should not be used, and it is best to let those lie, even for those who know them. Some are simply too dangerous to use or hard to use. Others, though, are evil on their face, spells that cannot possibly be used to good cause."

"You cannot be saying..." gasped Siska.

"No, no," said Tarviel, waving a hand in negation. "Your mother is not evil. She simply did not understand. She was young and eager, you see?"

"I can understand," said Siska, giving him a long look.

"You, however, are very different," his tone spoke of that difference being a most welcome one. "You've not asked me for a single incantation or spell. Instead, you take of what I would offer, and seem content."

Siska barked a laugh. "Far from that, Greatfather," she said. "I'm eager to know everything, but I'm patient enough to wait, I suppose."

That is why I wish to grant you a boon, call it a Harvest Moon gift," he said. "I believe it is nearing that day, no?"

Siska had to think a moment, the Harvest Moon would be soon, in three days. It would be a day of celebrations in honor of the bounty of the year and a last fling before the true winter set in on Tressen. Gifts were often given among family and most took the opportunity to revel. She had rather looked forward to that day, as she was to be allowed to go into town to see Phillip, Salira, and Tarmal.

Tarviel speaking again broke her reverie. "In honor of the occasion, ask for a spell you wish to know, if I know it, or one like it, I will teach it to you," he said.

A long moment passed as Siska thought on his offer. "Imbuing," she finally said. She had read of imbuing in the primer Salira had given her. Imbuing was the final step of making an enchantment on an item permanent and binding.

He gaped for a moment, then a broad smile grew on his face. "An Enchantress, then?" he asked. "You wish to craft items of power and bind the power to them?"

Siska shrugged. "Or just make trinkets and baubles for my friends."

Her great grandfather laughed. "I don't know if you're unhinged or cleverer than a fox," he said. "But I know imbuing, and I promised it you. Remember, though, that carelessness with imbuing can make normal spell feedback seem trivial."

Even as his words ended, he stood. One of his large, strong hands touched her brow and she felt images and thoughts flash into her brain. She gasped as the incantations and symbols became more complex and intricate, like following the strands on a spiderweb. The power required for anything beyond trivial spells was huge. However, Siska's reserves were, likewise, huge. Up until the most complex of them, the most powerful, she could do them by herself with no help.

"Do not abuse this gift, Greatdaughter," said Tarviel. "Use care with what you craft, you are responsible for the use to which your creations are put."

Siska nodded, her head still reeling from the vast quantity of information that had just spun its way into her mind. "I've given you something else, a special gift from me, when you discover it," he said. "A spell you will find most useful with what you have already been working. You amaze me, in your first days, discovering such a medium of mana storage as enhancing the lowly Talas sphere."

"I thought you may have..." she started to say.

"No, that was all yours, I'll not take credit for something I could never have done myself, my dear Siska," he said. "You shall be far greater than ever I was."

For the briefest of moments, his expression had become odd, but it soon returned to its smiling mien and he patted her arm. "You should sleep normally now, you need rest."

No sooner had he spoken those words than Siska was tumbling into a more normal dream. Mannis stood before her and embraced her. She had dreamed this before, and welcomed his touch.

She knew that she had started her relationship with him as something associated with her friend, Keeley, a kinship, she supposed. He was a good man, and she could easily feel affection for him. But was it love? She was very unsure of that, and did not wish to rush into things too headlong.

Even as their lips touched Mannis' feel beneath her fingertips changed and she opened her eyes to see Garel smiling down at her. He was not terribly tall, but still taller than she. His lips curled up in that roguish smile and she kissed him again.

This had happened to her before, too. The boy or man she was kissing would change from one to another on her, in the blink of an eye, sometimes. She had even dreamed more intimately of both young men, and found herself being caressed by one then the other between blinks.

She blinked awake with Keeley giggling at her. "Dreaming of a boy, are you?" asked her friend, her teeth flashing in the darkened room.

"How did you know?" asked Siska.

"You just kissed my neck, and heatedly," said Keeley, still smiling. "I'm only glad I wasn't dreaming the same thing."

"Sorry," said Siska, pulling herself up to prop her head on the pillow. "I don't mean to ravish you in your sleep."

Keeley just giggled again and laid her head back on the pillow, facing away from Siska. The excitement in Siska's stomach and regions lower was undeniable, though.

"How did you know Varan was the right one?" asked Siska, speaking after a long pause and causing Keeley to start a bit.

"You don't know about Mannis, then?" asked Keeley.

"I fear I don't," said Siska. "Were you so certain of Varan?"

Keeley turned over; their faces now close together. "I'm only as certain as I must be with Varan, Siska," she confided. "One is never sure, my mother always said, until after the years have worn the gleam from the finish."

Siska laughed. "My mother said much the same," she said. "It must be true."

Thoughts of her mother and the fact that the woman had known of magic troubled Siska. Why did she not awaken me? She wondered. The woman had good reasons, certainly. Perhaps she could not teach magic. Or perhaps she had been caught, and forbidden it. Surely learning spells without books was a difficult undertaking for someone. Maybe her mother had not known any real spells, only characters of the alphabet of spellcasting.

"Why do you ask?" asked Keeley.

"I dream about - other boys," said Siska, avoiding the use of Garel's name.

Keeley laughed. "Do not let that worry you overmuch," she said. "I dream about more than one or two others. I've dreamt of nearly every man I know."

Siska blinked at her. "You've dreamt of others than Varan?" she asked.

Keeley gave her an embarrassed look in the dim moonlight. "I've dreamt of making love to Phillip - and other men, too."

It took Siska a moment to reply to that. "I have, too. Though I only somewhat remember the dreams. I suppose it's normal. Sometimes, I wish I had given more thought to offers in the past."

Keeley stared at her, white showing all about her eyes. "Tell me," she said.

"About what?" asked Siska.

"Obviously, you were never commanded to lie with a man," said Keeley. "But surely some men have tried to win your affection before?"

"Yes," said Siska soberly. "Mistress Tomana made it clear that we never had to do that one particular act with a guest, but she also intimated that we could chose to. Only a few made the request, and one I gave some consideration to. He was very handsome, if a bit old."

"Why did you not?" asked Keeley.

"I giggled." Siska broke into giggles at that moment, proving her point. "When he took off his pants, I giggled at the sight of his, his - manhood."

The brown-haired girl joined in the giggling and said, "I doubt that made for improving his ardor."

"Quite the opposite," replied Siska nodding. "It was not very large to begin with and once I giggled it seemed to grow smaller by the moment. That, of course, made me giggle more."

They both laughed for a long moment before Keeley seemed to stifle hers. "Would you have done it otherwise?" she asked. There was no longer any sound of humor in her voice, this was important to her.

Siska let her own giggles drift off before replying. "Yes," she said. "I had decided to go through with it. Still I would have, after the giggles, but he was no longer interested. I believe it hurt his feelings greatly to have a fifteen year old slave girl laugh at his organ."

"I've thought of giving myself to Varan," confided Keeley.

Siska nodded. "It would be a natural thought, being betrothed."

"Yet you were ready to give yourself without even betrothal," said Keeley.

Another long moment passed as Siska thought on that. "I believe, had we not been attacked by the Templars, I would have given myself to Mannis on the night of his elevation to Defender."

"In truth?" Keeley seemed incredulous.

"Don't tell me the ceremony didn't arouse you, too, it certainly had me imagining things," said Siska.

"Perhaps it did," said Keeley, forcing a shrug of casualness that told Siska clearly that she had similar feelings at the event. "Only now, you have doubts?"

"That I wish to lie with Mannis - none," said Siska. "I know for certain that I do. What I don't know is if he is the only man I find myself attracted to."

"Who? Name names, woman," said Keeley, her voice filling with animation at the thought of gossip.

Siska sighed deeply, she had allowed the conversation this far, and felt she would only cause Keeley to pry harder if she did not reply. "Your brother, for one," she said.

"Garel?" asked Keeley, breaking into delighted giggles. "He wouldn't know what to do with you, Siska."

The apprentice allowed her friend to laugh for a while before saying, "I don't know about that, his eyes say that he knows something."

Keeley stopped laughing. "Fine, enough of my brother. It's uncomfortable enough thinking of him as a man, much less you and he together. Still, you've helped me decide - I will give myself to Varan if he desires me."

Siska felt tiny movements between herself and Keeley and Siskana walked between the two of them, shaking admonishing fingers at each, then cupped her hand over her mouth. She seemed still unable to actually speak. She was, just as obviously, growing more intelligent the larger she became.

"Siskana's right, we should sleep," said Siska.

Keeley rolled over again and said over her shoulder, "No more kissing my neck, I plan to dream of Varan now. I'll likely kiss you back next time."

"It's quiet here without Siska and the little one," said Thean. She rather missed Siskana more than the apprentice, herself.

Phillip looked up from his desk, closing the thick tome. "I'm sorry. I've not been a good host," he said. "Do you play chess?"

Thean nodded, but held her hands up, palms wide. "I'm not terribly good, but I know the rules."

Phillip rose and took her hand, a motion that startled Thean a little, but she recovered quickly, allowing only the briefest flickers of a smile come to her face. "Come, we'll play a game or two."

Guiding her into the common room, he sat her on one of the armchairs and slid a table, using a few magical words, between the chairs. The pieces sorted themselves at another word and Thean giggled despite herself, grinning at Phillip. "It will take me long to grow used to you doing that," she said.

"If it makes you laugh, I hope you never do," said Phillip, sitting opposite her and waiting for her to make the first move.

"I feel like one of these pieces in all this," said Thean, sliding her first soldier forward. Ten soldiers stood in an ordered row across the board before each side's armies. In a standard opening move, she moved one toward the middle, where her other soldiers could offer him support.

"I may be a wizard, but I feel like a chesspiece, too, usually," said Phillip, opening in a similar fashion, sliding a soldier forward. Thean had moved a soldier that stood before a knight, Phillip one who protected a wizard.

Thean smiled across the board at him. "No, you're a wizard, you belong among the big pieces," she said, moving up another soldier and reinforcing the first's position.

Phillip was the more aggressive player, bringing out one of his wizards early. The wizards were offensively powerful pieces, like queens, but were limited to moving three squares. He used his to great effect, however, despite Thean's strong defenses of her soldiers and knights.

Halfway through the game, Phillip's black knight took the tower and Thean responded, surprisingly, with a bracketing by her wizards, which took not only the knight, but toppled Phillip's queen on the next turn.

"I thought for a while there, you didn't use your wizards," said Phillip.

Thean smiled as she set the carven marble pieces aside. "I just prefer my wizards to do as they're told and get back in their place," she said, giving him a long look through the straight-cut strands of her bangs.

Removing the last of Thean's soldiers on his next turn, Phillip sat back. "It seems that soldiers often get above themselves and have to be put down," he observed as he sat the piece aside.

His wizard, however was taken by her one remaining tower. "Just a building full of soldiers, never underestimate them," she said, running her fingertips over the long, cylindrical piece. Amazing the power one can wield by controlling a tower, no?"

Phillip felt warmth rising in his cheeks as she watched her caress the tower. "I see," he said. "Yes, controlling a tower can lead to victory." His king was in check from that move, leaving him to choice of losing either his king or his remaining wizard.

Though technically on duty, Thean had eschewed her armor this night, wearing only her sword and a leather overcoat that she shed then, letting it fall over the back of her chair and revealing the cotton undershirt she wore. It was cut low in the neck and had no sleeves, only wide openings for the arms. Phillip gaped at the cleavage revealed by her motion. "I believe you're trying a new tactic," he said.

Thean tilted her head slightly. "It depends on what you think my objective is," she said, donning a broad smile and running her eyes over her two captured wizards. "How many wizards must I best in one evening?" Her voice was considering and Phillip was immensely relieved that she was looking at the playing pieces and not at him as he attempted to school his features away from the startled look he knew he wore.

He looked down at their collections of pieces. She had gone lightly on his soldiers, and only half of them were down. "You seem to have trouble removing soldiers from the field," he observed as he placed his king safely behind his bishop and soldiers, freeing his own towers for movement.

"You should be careful relying upon the church for protection," she said. "Morality can be taken too far." Thean made a grand sweeping motion and Phillip blinked to find his bishop gone and Thean's queen threatening his king once more; there was nothing his soldiers could do about it and his towers were far out of position to threaten or help.

"Queens have been known to come from nowhere to topple the best laid plans into ruin."

Given the rumors floating about the evening, Phillip swallowed hard at her comment. She had meant herself, of course, he thought furiously to himself. Thean seemed utterly uninterested in political matters and she had only been placing herself into the role of surprising queen.

Thean's smile became positively beatific and she held up the two wizards she had captured. "If only these fellows could advise me, hmm?" she asked, peering into their sculpted marble faces.

Phillip felt his own smile grow as she sighed and sat back. "I think, perhaps you don't need much advising, Squad Leader Thean of the Guard," said Phillip, shaking his head and holding his hands up in supplication. "I'm afraid you're an opponent who will eventually wear her enemy down by sheer force of will."

"Ready to concede?" she asked. He was rather playing only to keep his king out of trouble, than any attempt to win now.

"The field is yours," said Phillip, bowing slightly from his seated position.

Thean gave him a quick nod and leaned forward, over the table to kiss his cheek. "I'm a merciful victor."

The motion of her kiss gave him a deeper view down the cleavage of her loose tunic, a pleasant terrain he would not mind coming to explore more thoroughly. The thought had only flitted across his mind for a moment when the door opened, allowing a cold blast of nighttime air to enter the room.

Salira entered, though without the company of Tarmal. "Mist accepted," she said. "She seemed eager, I think Siska has impressed those girls far beyond reason. Oh, good evening Thean, it's nice to see you." She smiled warmly at the young soldier and pulled her cloak off.

"I thought she might, but I wanted to give her mother time to think on it. That's why I didn't tell her as soon as I knew she had the gift." Phillip rose from his seat and moved toward the kitchen. "I'll get you some tea, would you like some, Thean?"

"Yes, please," replied the sergeant, smiling at the wide-eyed grin Salira directed toward Phillip's back and glance given to Thean, herself.

"He's certainly calmed from last night, no?" asked the wizard in a soft tone.

Thean shrugged. "We've gotten along better, certainly," she said. "Though he's yet to even try to kiss me."

"Give him time, I think he's out of practice," said Salira with a wink. "It's been a long while since he's had a woman about that he was interested in for more than wizardly reasons."

Thean grimaced. "I'm not used to men playing hard to get," she said and cast her eyes toward the hallway to the kitchen. "I've given thought to simply throwing off my clothes and leaping on him."

Salira blinked at the shorter, slimmer woman. "That might well work," she said. "Yet it's hardly the basis for stability."

Phillip was still clanging pots in the kitchen and Thean gave Salira a long look. "He makes me feel fourteen again, and that I'm still awaiting my first kiss."

"Give him time," said Salira, patting the slight warrior's shoulder. "He desires your company. I would wager gold on that."

Thean returned a smile that she felt was pitifully forlorn, but nodded. "Where is Mentor Tarmal?" she asked, peering about as if expecting him to appear in the room, despite having seen Salira arrive alone.

"The order has summoned him to the palace this night," said Salira. "They claim it to be a moot of the Triad." The Triad was the cumulative title of the three parts of Tressen's elite defenses: The Graysails, the Blue Order, and the Defenders. Thean was unsure what a moot was, beyond its use as a description of a meeting.

Phillip was entering the room as she finished that statement. "A moot?" he asked. "There's not been one of those in nearly fifty years."

"Well, there is one now," said Salira, taking an offered porcelain cup and sipping the warm tea. "Tarmal said every councilor, every commander, and every captain will be there, those failing will lose their position and be replaced on the spot."

The tall wizard whistled at the import such measures must mean, then grinned. "Let's hope that Embrule misses the meeting, then."

Embrule stood beside Tarmal at the moot, voices all raised in a near shout. His voice rose above most of the others. "It cannot be tolerated, what you ask," he yelled, his face spotted with livid red as his jowls wiggled in his agitation. "It's never been done."

"It's never been done, because no potential heir has been found before, Councilor Embrule," said Morrigai GeDurial, a tall, regal woman with a narrow face. She resembled one of the prows of a Graysail sloop and moved with the same speed and unstoppable inertia. Her voice was calm, but carried in a way that ship's captains did, slicing through the background tumult of the chamber.

Commodore over one of the three fleets of the Graysails, only the Admiral-General outranked her, and only two others matched her. Several captains, a dozen behind each of the commodores, raised their voices in agreement.

"Your personal dislike of the possible heir is noted and taken into account, Embrule," said Tarmal. "You've spoken against her since she was first brought before the Council of the Blue Order."

Embrule spluttered more, and two other councilors rose to their feet. "To call this personal," he ranted. "She was brought before us as the result of felonious theft, from what I remember. It is only Mentor Phillip's high standing that prevented his being sent to the stocks or even the gallows, for his crime."

A chorus of agreement came from about the chamber. "Her manner of introduction is not of moment," said the Commandant of the Defenders, still wearing a bandage on his neck from the fighting in the palace. Gorein Urstodon was a slight man, shorter than many women. The natives of the isles were not a tall or broad people. His shocking white hair stood out in the sea of black-clad officers of the Defenders, and they all stood silently, moving to indicate they backed his words without question. "What is of moment is whether or not she is provably of the bloodline of the kings of Tressen. I believe the treasury can spare a few thousand marks to cover the debts of the Queen."

"I demand the Hall of Lords be convened," screamed Councilor Embrule, lifting his arms. "They have the right to know what happens this night."

The hall erupted in shouts again, people screaming at the top of their lungs, save the Captains of the Defenders and the Graysails, both made up of the lowest ranks of the Moot. "It is not their matter to decide if this girl is of the bloodline," said Morrigai, her voice piercing the din like a blade. "It was the Hall of Lords that, in a moment of treason, tried to destroy the House of Syszynski. They have since pled confusion in the matter, and the people accepted that. Who is to say they will not become - confused - again if a heir is found?"

One voice shouted for a vote, a shout taken up by others rapidly. Soon, almost all the men of the hall, and no few women, were chanting 'vote', at the top of their lungs.

Thus it was decided that Siska was to be tested for the crown.

Embrule stood outside the palace, glowering at those passing down the wide marble stairs. He had voted against this farce of law, and was to be damned if he would give over his city to the likes of that slaveborn whore, no matter her 'gift'.

Several others agreed with him and they formed a small knot that met to the side of the doorway. Hostile glances darted between them and the other groups leaving. There were members of each of the Triad among his adherents, enough to substantiate his position.

They moved off together and Tarmal stood in their way. "Do not act against the moot, Embrule, such would be treason," he warned, glaring at the older wizard as if reading his thoughts. Stormy stood nearby, as well as two other councilors.

"We go to drink away the loss of our proud heritage," said Embrule in a self-important tone. "If we can find a tavern open at this late hour."

Tarmal stepped back, waving the knot of ten men past. "Then, by all means, go toast the bright future of our city, gentlemen, for I think we shall have our ruler back on the morrow."

His playful smile was forced and he followed the lot past with his eyes as they stormed across the square and into the dim anonymity of the city. "They will cause trouble," he said.

"Surely they will," agreed Stormy, sighing. "We can deal with it when it comes upon us."

He offered her his arm and guided her to her carriage. The elderly woman smiled and patted his hand. "Do not let down your guard this night, Tarmal, and watch over Phillip and Salira. I will keep Siska protected, as she is even now, despite the wishes of Embrule."

"I thought she was to be treated as any other at the home," said Tarmal, blinking at her.

"Oh, nothing official," she said, shrugging. "But a few personal friends owed me favors, and they just happen to be keeping an eye on her, by whatever means lend themselves handy." She made a negligent motion with her hands, as if it was not a matter of import. "She is as well protected as possible, trust me."

She mounted the steps of the enameled carriage and shut the door behind her. "Watch out for yourself, Stormy," murmured Tarmal as he climbed into the saddle of a tall horse and rode toward Phillip's home.

One after another, the disheveled nobles entered the chamber. Not the Hall of Lords, certainly, but more than large enough for their needs in this dire matter. "A new queen?" said one incredulously, speaking to a small group of others. They were unused to meeting like this, before dawn, and summoned by hastily worded messages from other nobles. Most were only barely suitably clad, wearing mismatched outfits thrown on in haste.

A loud hammering sounded from a makeshift podium and all eyes went there, the noise cutting down slightly. Lord Marillio of House Govanissi stood forth and bellowed for silence. As the head of one of a half dozen great houses in Tressen, silence fell. "Councilor Embrule, at great personal risk, has brought us news most dire," he said. "The Triad seeks to overthrow our rule by placing a puppet upon the throne that has sat empty for over a century."

The hubbub resumed, voices rising in protest and confusion. Embrule stood to the side of the podium, beaming at the thanks that came from several nearby noblemen. "As the law allows, we shall witness this 'testing' and put stop to any attempted coronation," said Marillio. "There are many wizards behind this would-be coup, and we will not allow them to violate the traditions and make mockery of the test, as Embrule is sure they will. We cannot allow magical trickery to allow the Triad to rest control of this proud city from us, and to put the people, who trust in us, at the mercy of subversives and traitors."

The gathered nobles, over half the houses already in attendance, raised their voices in heartfelt agreement. Embrule's face glowed with a greasy sweat and pride of having put a stop to this farce, and to Tarmal and Phillip's wicked plans.

The shouting continued, and grew in vehemence as it did so, until it had risen to a call for blood.

Embrule chuckled inwardly as he walked from the room, dabbing at his brow with a silken kerchief. The morrow would see him the sole councilor of the Blue Order - and rid him of Tarmal, Phillip, and their slave girl protégé.

Behind him, the bloodthirsty shouts rose to a crescendo of curses directed at the leaders of the Triad. Embrule hoped they remembered that some members had been loyal to the houses, and who had led them to reveal the secretive duplicity of the moot.

The sun had broken the horizon as Tornadin entered the bedchamber, waking Tatyana. She stretched languidly, smiling up at the young nobleman. "The nobles think that the Triad means to place Siska on the throne," he said, shaking his head.

"You and I both know how that will turn out," said Tatyana, sitting up and allowing the coverlets to fall from her upper body. "You must prevent them harming her."

"How?" he asked, incredulous. Since she had stopped reinforcing the enchantments upon his mind, he had grown a bit less subservient. The handsome noble was still quite loyal and loving toward her, though he questioned her more often now.

Tatyana sat in silence for a long moment before a knowing smile spread across her lovely features. Years had been kind to the woman. She had graced Siska with her beauty, but as she had aged, that beauty simply matured and solidified to make a woman of staggering presence. Tornadin wondered how she had remained a slave all those years with that sort of commanding air.