(Written for baffledking in Yuletide 2009.)
Author's Note: This story takes place a few months after the story "Catalyst" in The Deryni Archives.
Foresight
"I want Rhys!" Seven-year-old Evaine's demand was plaintive but firm. Lady Jocelyn exchanged a look with the child's nursemaid, Breda. Evaine was usually a quiet and biddable little girl, but she was also used to getting her own way- as the only daughter and baby of the family she was well-loved and knew it. But the miserable catarrh she'd been suffering for the last few days had made her far less cooperative than she usually was. She was still abed, and her fever had only recently abated.
"I am sorry, my lady," said Breda. "But she is most insistent."
Lady Jocelyn sighed. "I will put it to Rhys myself." She placed a hand on her daughter's brow. "Evaine, dearling, I will ask Rhys if he would like to stay with you. But if he does not wish to do so, you must not be selfish."
Evaine gave a little shrug. "He will. He thinks court is boring. And he doesn't like Prince Imre."
"Evaine!" said her mother sharply. "You mustn't say such things."
"Sorry!" came the unrepentant reply. Evaine gave a mighty sniff, and blew her nose. Then she snuggled down into her bed. Her cat, Symber, leapt to her side and stretched out alongside her, purring loudly.
The family was expected to attend upon King Blaine's court this day, where they would spend Christmastide. Young Cathan, the sixteen-year-old MacRorie heir, was a good friend to young Prince Imre. And Camber, Earl of Culdi, was one of the King's foremost advisors. If Evaine had still been as ill as she had a few days before, they could have pled that as an excuse to stay home and had the King's sympathy. But she was on the mend, with a hoard of servants to see to her needs, and the King would have looked askance at their absence now. King Blaine was not as haughty as some of the members of his Royal family, but he was protective of the prerogatives of his office. The Festilic line did all they could to refute the occasional mutterings that they were mere usurpers of the rightful Haldane line. He was also a firm believer in the privileges of Deryni over humans, something that Camber, as his advisor, was in a position to ameliorate. Camber could not afford to annoy his King, or lose his favor.
Lady Jocelyn went in search of her ward. Young Rhys was probably with her sons- he had been a part of the family ever since the deaths of his parents from a plague when he was little more than an infant, and the children tended to regard him more as a brother than a fosterling.
She found the boys in the courtyard. Cathan was sparring with Joram, while Rhys watched. Joram, who held ambitions of one day becoming a Knight of the Order of Saint Michael, took every chance he could to practice swordplay. Rhys, however, was just as well pleased that he would not be returning to the Michaeline school after Epiphany, but would instead be taking up his training as a Healer at the school run by the Gabrilites. Lady Jocelyn and her husband had been very pleased and proud that Rhys had the rare Deryni talent of Healing. While he was not without his own inheritance, it was a small one. But there was a lot of prestige in being a Healer, and he would have a secure future in that honored profession.
She gave a shudder as she recalled the circumstances that led to the revelation of Rhys' talent- their home had been invaded by brigands who thought with the adults gone for the day they could make short work of the servants, and steal the family's treasures. They had not reckoned with the resourcefulness of the children and one cat, however. Rhys had been injured, and so had Symber- and the youngster had managed to not only prevent himself from bleeding to death, but had Healed the cat. Ever since that day, Evaine had been very possessive of "her Rhys".
At the sight of her arrival in the courtyard, Cathan and Joram ceased their sparring and turned to her. "Mother." said Cathan, as he and Joram gave a slight bow. Rhys inclined his head. "Lady Jocelyn."
She smiled at their courtliness. "My boys." She turned to Rhys. "Rhys, I have something to ask of you, but before I do, I wish you to know that you are free to say me nay if you truly do not wish to do it."
Rhys nodded, "What is it, my lady?"
"As you know, Evaine is not well enough yet to go with us to court when we leave this evening. She has asked for you to stay with her while we are gone."
Any qualms she might have had faded at the look of delight on his face. "Of course I will, my lady! I would be glad to keep Evaine company while you are gone!" He paused a moment, and then added ruefully, "I am not so fond of court as all that."
Lady Jocelyn laughed. "Evaine said that would be your answer."
"Mother!" Joram interrupted, "I will stay, too. Rhys will need someone to keep him company! Besides, this is our last chance to be together before he goes to his new school!"
For a moment Lady Jocelyn was tempted to say yes, for she knew that Joram was no fonder of court than was Rhys. But she shook her head. "You know your father would not allow that. You are a son of the house, and will be missed- and you have ambitions to become a Michaeline, something that could make the King look upon you with suspicion if you were not there. Young as you are, Joram, you need to begin to consider these things."
He gave a heavy and exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes, but even so he nodded obediantly and said, "Yes, mother." A few months ago, he would have at least attempted to argue, and she was pleased with this sign of growing maturity.
"Now, my sons, you need to go finish your preparations for leaving. And Rhys," she smiled upon him, "you may go and tell Evaine the good news."
Rhys sat by Evaine's bed, as they played games of cat's cradle. She had been both smug and delighted when he had brought the news that he would be allowed to stay home with her while the rest of the family was gone.
After he had farewelled the others, he had gone to her nursery, and Breda had brought them supper- humble pie, such as the servants ate, and bread and cheese and watered small ale, and even two small bowls of sweet frumenty. Rhys had been quite hungry, and even Evaine, whose appetite had waned with her illness, managed to eat most of hers. Breda had taken away the dishes, and now sat in the corner braiding cord upon a lucet as she watched over her charges.
"Show me that trick again, Rhys!" she demanded.
He chuckled. It was a mere trick of sleight-of-hand, shown to him by one of the grooms. But for some reason she found it more fascinating than the real magic of the Deryni- perhaps because she too, could do a number of simple Deryni spells herself- more than the average seven-year-old. Lord Camber said she was precocious in her magic, and that she would be a formidable Deryni sorceress when she grew up. It was not to be doubted, when he was the one to teach her himself.
He put the loop of string behind his neck, and brought the ends to the front, held loosely between his fingers. Then he pulled it taut, quickly, with a snap. When done correctly, it gave the illusion that the string had actually gone right through his neck.
She laughed delightedly. "I am glad you stayed with me, Rhys!"
He smiled indulgently at her. "You are the closest thing to a little sister I have, Evaine. I am happy to keep you company."
Her face grew suddenly serious. "But you are not my brother."
"No," he said. "I'm not." But he did not think he could love her any more if she were his sister.
"My head feels heavy. I think I am going to have another headache," she said.
Rhys looked at her. In the months since his Healing ability had been discovered, the King's Healer, Dom Sereld, had given him a few lessons- things that he said would not interfere with his future training, but would help him understand his powers. He reached over and placed two fingers at the side of her neck. The throb of her heart was strong, and he could sense an incipient fever. But only a light one. He put his hand over her face, not touching it, and took note of the congestion that gathered there. He brought his hand down and away in a few passes, visualizing the congestion thinning and flowing away. "Just close your eyes and relax, Evaine, listen to Symber's purring..." Gradually, he felt her slipping away into sleep, and as she did, both their shields slipped and he suddenly was aware of just how much she loved him, young as she was...
He was in a strange room...an adult. He looked at Evaine, a woman grown, more beautiful than any he had seen. She held within her arms an infant, and his own embrace encircled them both. He sensed the presence of others in the room- Joram, Lord Camber, another whom he knew would one day be a friend. But he held Evaine and the babe in the circle of his arms, knew they were a family together: father, mother, son...
He came to the present once more, and stared. Evaine? Little Evaine? How could that be?
As he stared, wondering if he had truly seen a picture of the future, or only some childish dream she was having, he heard her childish voice in his head, amused and confident. "You're my Rhys. Didn't you always know that?"
But when he looked at her, she was sleeping.
Well, there was a lot to think about. But perhaps it was as well he would be away for the next several years.