There had been a third man, an observer, and no doubt he had not only observed the failure of the two men to dispatch Mennifei Se'Fannouel, but the reason for their failure as well. Any description given of Kyn could easily describe dozens of youths residing in Haven...but Master would know exactly who it was. Master always knew.
:Kyn! You don't need to run from us, please...:
It's not you I'm running from. Kyn skidded around a corner and nearly ran full-tilt into an overweight matron fumbling with a set of keys before a door, earning himself a startled squawk of outrage that he barely heard in his hurry to run...where? Where could he possibly go, where could he possibly hide? Intellectually, he would have concluded that the answer would be nowhere, but his hindbrain hadn't quite caught up and all it was doing right now was screaming at him to run, run!
Because I not only missed Master's intentions - was so preoccupied that I never even suspected them - but aided the enemy in my blindness...
:Chosen, please, just talk to me, don't shut me out...:
Sianni. What did Master know of Companions and Companion bonds? Sianni had no part in this fiasco...she should not be involved. A desperate lurch to the side kept him from being run over by a cart-hauling draft horse eager to be home after the long day, its driver yelling imprecations after him when his abrupt emergence from the side had startled the equine into half-rearing, rattling the cart's contents. :No more talking. It's too late for words. I've failed him.:
:What? Who - Kyn, if you're in danger, please let me know what it is so that we can help!:
He silently cursed himself as he paused momentarily to catch his breath when the walls lining the palace grounds moved into sight. He should not have given in and replied; he could feel the prickly touch of anxiety sliding down the link from her, and the strengthening of her proximity. She was running after him, following...that might even be her hoofbeats rising in tempo behind him...
A desperate swallow of air, and then he was sprinting again, pushing the ache of abused muscles and joints to the edges of his perception as he headed for the west gate. There was a vague thought of arming himself with what he could find in the collegium, grabbing more appropriate clothes and other necessities...perhaps the lessons that the Heralds had taught about survival outside the city confines might actually come in handy...
"M'lord, are you sure you would not rather wait - "
Kyn wasn't sure what it was exactly that warned him - certainly not the snatch of conversation, heard too late to be of any real use - but his body automatically shifted its balance in preparation to slowing, subtly swiveling in preparation for a turn - and that, perhaps, managed to just save him from running the duke down entirely. As it was, he still ran into the man - but the man managed to remain standing while he rebounded with an undignified oof and ended half-sprawled on the ground, blinking upwards with a head gone lightheaded and dizzy after his over-exertion.
"M'lord! Boy, watch where you're going! The streets aren't some pasture for you to go sprinting through like - Bright Lady, it's him. The one that took down the two cutpurses like they were - "
"The boy who saved my daughter?"
Kyn blinked owlishly up at the silhouettes looming over him, ones that eventually resolved themselves with a shift in the sun's slanting rays and another hasty blink into one of the guardsmen who had been with the squad called to the scene of the attack earlier...and Se'Fannouel. The former looked highly skeptical, had a hand outstretched as if about to haul Kyn up onto his feet and clap him in irons for murder despite the circumstances, but the duke had neatly overrode the man's suspicions and was now bent over - to all outward appearances - with concern.
"Ah, I do believe I recall meeting you before. Kyn was your name, correct?" the duke asked with an almost insulting gentleness, considering their last meeting. The duke extended a hand toward Kyn, his mouth stretching in a benign smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a cheeriness that didn't reach the orbs themselves. "Guard Brenson here was dispatched to inform me of the recent happenings, and I cannot convey the depth of my distress when I learned of the attack upon my daughter. Please, allow me to express my utmost gratitude for your efforts."
Kyn gaped foolishly at the duke, wondering briefly how he had managed to run into him of all people at such a time, when an uneasy shift on the guardsman's part snapped him out of his daze. Brenson must have been sent right after the guards had arrived and secured the scene to have already rooted the duke out of the inn, albeit not more than a dozen feet from the building itself. "It was a coincidence," Kyn finally said curtly, ignoring the proffered hand and pushing himself up off the ground, and finding to his embarrassment that an almost visible tremor was threading its way through his limbs, a weakness that he cursed all the more while standing in the presence of Master's enemy. The run had managed to keep the winter air's bite at bay, but now the nip of late afternoon shade combined with a rising coldness completely from within rapidly sapped what heat he retained.
"There is no need to be modest," Se'Fannouel chided, dropping a hand heavily on Kyn's shoulder in a fatherly gesture that he barely managed to suppress a cringe from. "You should take what rewards you deserve for such an astonishing act of bravery." Those dark, glittering eyes narrowed, and the smile sharpened ever so slightly before the duke's gaze slid past to the throughway beyond. "And it seems the rest of the train has finally caught up..."
Kyn stared at the man, dread forming a heavy knot in his chest. What is the duke up to?
He didn't have to turn to know that the warning nicker and purposeful clatter of hooves that could have danced as silently on bricks as the thickest hummock belonged to Sianni. He presumed that the second set belonged to Kantor, and the chill of a shadow falling over him from behind could only belong to the un-Herald, meeting the duke's eyes over Kyn's head.
"Alberich. Is Kyn your charge? From all accounts, he displays an astonishing prowess on the field - he would certainly be a worthy pupil." Se'Fannouel did not remove his hand, and, if anything else, seemed to tighten his grip ever so slightly.
"My charge, Kyn is not," Alberich's voice rumbled from closer than Kyn had expected, the un-Herald near enough to invade personal space, as if in unspoken challenge to the duke. And now, not only had the un-Herald's unorthodox speech patterns been reinforced, but there was a suspicious thickening of the syllables, as if the remnants of an accent was still clinging stubbornly to the words, refusing to be shaken off completely. Unnatural, unwarranted...the weaponsmaster was putting on his own show for the duke.
But what role was Kyn supposed to take now?
"Oh really? My apologies for such a hasty assumption, then," the duke inserted smoothly, just as the silence was beginning to become uncomfortable and it became clear that Alberich would not be volunteering any more information. "May I inquire as to who his guardians are, then? I would dearly like to ask their permission to invite him to my home, so that I may properly reward him for the saving of my daughter's life."
No no no... If not for the hand, Kyn might have bolted, right then and there. He remembered the shadowed halls, hung with banners...remembered the circles and Mennifei laid out in blood...remembered the knife sliding cold between his ribs, all within the forbidding stone walls of a manor he had never visited...up till now.
"Your home?"
"Yes." The duke looked down on Kyn, smiling. "I'm thinking of taking Mennifei home with me for a few weeks to recuperate from the experience when I leave the capitol in ten days or so. At the same time, I would like to invite Kyn here for a visit. It would only be for a few days; I would not want to hamper his studies here."
Kyn jerked back roughly, and didn't know which was the more startling - escaping the duke's grip without effort, or stumbling into Alberich's unyielding bulk behind him. Still, despite the trip-hammer race of his heartbeat in his ears, he wasn't about to miss his chance to back out of the offer. "No, I will n - "
"Glad to visit you, sure I am he would be."
Kyn nearly strained his neck, whipping his head about to stare disbelievingly at the un-Herald's grim visage, his mouth still half-open on the refusal he had been about to give. :Sianni!: he protested.
:I'm sorry, Kyn. I've been arguing with him ever since you ran off, but I'm making very little headway, and things are too delicately balanced here for me to just interrupt again. Just remember that I'll never leave your side, no matter what happens; I'll always be there for you - :
:What games is he playing?!:
:No games, Chosen, I promise you that. Even if he was not the sort of man to refrain from toying with others, I would never allow it. Patience...the decision is not final. You can still change your - :
Se'Fannouel clapped his hands together sharply in approval, making Kyn jump at the abrupt sound. "Excellent! In ten days' time, I promise you an experience that you will never forget, Kyn. Now, if you would please excuse my boorish haste, I really must see how my daughter is doing..." A quick nod to either of them, not even allowing enough time for an acknowledgement, and the duke had swept past, the bemused guardsman in tow like a common servant.
Kyn stood, stiff and trembling, waiting with a control that cost him dearly for the sound of their brisk footsteps to fade into the ambient noise of the avenue. Only then did he allow himself to turn on Alberich with a fist and a wordless howl.
His fist was caught, and when instinct would have planted an elbow into the weaponsmaster's midriff and followed with the heel of the other hand smashing into the nose, aimless fury and an arm looped around his middle conspired to disarm him completely. Lifted half off his feet - rather similarly to how he had treated Mennifei but only a few marks ago - he twisted violently in Alberich's grip, and nearly managed to smash an elbow into the man's jaw, though more by accident than design.
"Desist!" the un-Herald hissed sharply into Kyn's ear, giving him a rough shake as if he were little more than an errant puppy caught in a wolf's jaws. More rattled than he would ever admit, Kyn immediately froze, every muscle strung tight and trembling, breaths catching on sharp gasps that verged dangerously on dry sobs.
"I won't do it," he whispered hoarsely. "You can't make me go. I won't go, there's nothing you can do to make me go..."
"What have you seen?" The weaponsmaster's voice was almost gentle in its hushed volume, coaxing and at startling odds to the harsh tones he had used before. "What do you fear so much?"
"I...circles. Circles within circles within circles...all around me..." Kyn stirred in the un-Herald's grip, feeling and remembering the tickling-tingling sensation inside his head of a Truth Spell enacted, and turned betrayed eyes toward the man. As illogical as the feeling was...he had not thought Alberich would use the Truth Spell on him again. And why would you think that? When have you ever given them cause to trust you on even the smallest issue? "The...the duke..." He swallowed thickly, fighting it with every single shred of will he had even as he knew the futility of the gesture. "He'll...he'll kill - "
:Enough.:
Alberich released Kyn with a surprised grunt, lurching forward and nearly sending them both staggering to their knees. Availing himself of the opportunity, Kyn quickly scrambled out of the weaponsmaster's reach, only realizing after he had turned that the reason for the interruption was Sianni. Even as he watched, the Companion advanced another step and nudged the weaponsmaster none-too-gently in the back with her nose once again.
:There is no reason for you to place my Chosen under Truth Spell. There is no reason for you to badger my Chosen as you have when a simple question would have sufficed. There is absolutely no reason for the decision you had made for my Chosen without his consent!:
With each emphasis on 'my Chosen', Sianni drove home the point that her Choice was tantamount to a god's token of faith...and Kyn couldn't help feeling something inside wince and shrink away each time, wondering when and how he would betray that faith.
"Strong arm tactics I may have resorted to, but necessary they are!" Alberich retorted, taking a judicious step back to glare at Sianni.
"Why?" Kyn interjected, straightening and calming himself with an effort; a superficial success at best, but the most he could manage at the moment. "Why is this so necessary? Why don't you go? I heard the way you changed while talking to the duke. You were pretending to be someone else - or trying to deflect suspicions away from what you might seem to be. You're already deeper in this than I'll ever be. Am I right?"
Alberich didn't reply immediately, but the silence seemed less belligerent and more wary. The weaponsmaster tilted his head and eyed Kyn in appraisal, long and hard, before he responded obliquely, "This is the easiest and fastest way. You do want to finish this, don't you?"
Kyn swallowed at the incontrovertible proof of the un-Herald's chameleon switch in persona, the effortless shift into a far more fluid and commonplace speech. "I need to know why. What it is you're looking for. Why I am so important to you..." Why you won't accept me as I am and yet won't let me go. He shivered once, violently, wrapping his arms around himself in an absent attempt to stave off the chill.
The un-Herald smirked faintly, a corner of his mouth pulling upwards. "I thought you didn't want to know. I remember you specifically requesting that all details be kept - "
"I was wrong," Kyn interrupted bitterly, turning his head sharply away, fingers tightening in the fabric of his sleeves. "It was ignorance that led to my mistake today. I'm not going to let it happen again." Even if it's too late. Even if I soon won't be allowed to make any other mistakes ever again.
:The child is going to catch his death of cold, on top of everything else. This can wait.:
"I disagree," Alberich said calmly. There was no discernible softening, but there was a certain...leavening of his stance toward Kyn, as if having some personal assessment confirmed allowed him to deal with Kyn more magnanimously. "This is exactly the time in which to discuss this. He is finally - "
Sianni swung her head around to stare directly at the man, and must have added some choice comment privately, for Alberich arched one brow sharply and even Kantor broke his customary neutrality with an uncertain whuffle, dancing to the side and extending his nose out toward Sianni in a gesture that she evaded with an arrogant flick of her tail. :No. We are finished. Come, Chosen.:
He stared dumbly at her for a moment. :That's it?:
:That's all that I will allow for now. Alberich has his invitation to the duke's manse if you agree to it, and if you don't, then the entire conversation is moot anyway. My main concern is getting you back inside right now. You're whiter than that shirt you're wearing.:
He glanced down at himself, noting numbly, :It's cream-colored.:
:Don't distract me with details. Come on.: She presented her side to him and stared expectantly.
"But..." He laid his hands against her back, glanced over it toward the un-Herald and Kantor on the other side, both gazing steadily at him, both equally expressionless in their own ways. "No, I can walk," he finally said, shifting instead to lean against her side, guiltily hunching his shoulders to tuck himself closer against her warmth.
Sianni chuffed in exasperation. :Why? My way will be faster, not to mention more comfortable.:
"I can walk," he insisted stubbornly, fixing his eyes on the worn stones of the roadway before him, polished by countless treads of feet, hooves, and wheels. "If I can walk, I will walk." This is my last chance. I must not appear weak. Master would not send common ruffians for me - if he sent anyone else at all. If he came himself... If Master came himself, Kyn would not be able to inflict so much as a harsh word on the man, much less lift a finger against him. Which meant that all he had left in his own defense was his pride.
Sianni let the silence stretch a little longer, allowing her displeasure to be felt, before finally giving in. :Very well.: Despite the snappish undertone, she solicitously kept her pace to his, shielding him as best she could against the growing breeze that evening brought with it, huddling as protectively around him as if he were her colt. Kyn, for his part, made sure he placed one foot in front of the other, and though he tried to pay attention to the few people that still bustled through the darkening streets, found himself pondering the oddest details instead -
Such as the sweet buns that Brin seemed so fond of, the sharing of them just an excuse to buy more than he ought to.
Such as the thick scent of herbs that clung to Nadia - not the pervasive, choking smell of the drugs he depended on, but a cleaner, lighter odor that cleared the head.
Such as the bright splash of early morning through the windows of his room, creeping warm and stealthy across the coverlet over his feet.
Such as the velvety stroke of Sianni's muzzle when she lipped fondly at the ends of his hair, her breaths a gentle rocking at his back.
He barely noticed the passing of the gate in the little sparks of remembered delights that forced themselves upon him, things that he might have barely noticed at the time but which all insisted on clamoring for his attention now. Something was different now, something within him and without had changed...
Kyn stumbled to a halt, staring at the scattered clusters of buildings, the hibernating fields and evergreens bordering them, the handful of Companions, trainees, and Heralds scattered across the grounds. The entire time that he had been ensconced with the Heralds...had it really been that bad? Had it really been so intolerable?
When he had first come to the realization that he may have worked counter to Master, his first instinct had been to hide. Like a guilty child who had just broken a prized vase in his thoughtless play, he had sought to escape the inevitable punishment, as if by remaining out of sight, Master might also forget that he existed to be reprimanded. Run and hide, out of sight, out of mind. But, inevitably, reason had managed to catch up - in no small part because the Heralds and Companions had simply interrupted his momentum. Stopped, and forced to think, he had wondered if it would be better just to return, and face the consequences directly. Would Master have enough mercy to let him stay if he saw that Kyn was appropriately repentant? Would he understand that Kyn would never make such a mistake again?
But then...what did he really have that he could go back to? Did he truly believe that it would all be the same as before? That Master would ever trust him so completely again?
That he would ever trust Master to forgive what he had done?
:Kyn?: Sianni nudged him gently with her nose, stopping as soon as he did with a sixth sense that allowed not a single step to fall out of synch. :What is it, Chosen?:
He took a deep breath, and prepared himself to utter the most damning words of all.
He was not supposed to desire anything beyond what Master needed him to be. He was not supposed to endanger either Master or assignment, by action or by existence. He was not supposed to force Master to hunt him down like a mad animal that needed a mercy stroke. He should have completed the knife stroke the night he had been Chosen, by whatever means, as soon as it became clear he had been compromised.
And yet...and yet...
"Sianni...I don't want to die."
The day was well on its way toward noon before Kyn heard the expected knock on the door, a sharp double-tap that was as unembellished and straightforward as the man who produced it. Barely glancing up from the the books that he had pilfered from the library, he called out, "Come in."
Alberich opened the door and slipped in, as quiet and unobtrusive as the shadows his uniform mimicked. There was a pause as Kyn imagined the un-Herald gazing over the scene before the man stepped up to the table's edge. In the corner of his vision, Kyn saw one hand - large, rough with calluses, sun-browned and blade-scarred - reach out to nudge a tome's cover over to read the title. "Missed, you have been in classes."
Of all openings, Kyn least expected that one. Placing a marker where he left off on the page, he turned to give the man a highly skeptical look. Alberich didn't meet his gaze immediately, instead, reaching for another, title-less book to peruse its contents. "Truth it is. One of the obvious, Brin is, but some instructors have also expressed concerns. A bright student, they say you are."
Kyn frowned, uncertain as to what response was expected, and so sidestepped the topic altogether. "Must you speak that way?"
Alberich shrugged, shifting his speech effortlessly as he dropped the book back on its stack. "Force of habit, in these surroundings. Does it bother you?"
He hesitated on a reflexive, "No," thought about just what he had to gain from hiding anything from the weaponsmaster right now, and admitted, "I want to know I'm dealing with you. Not some facet that was created for a specific purpose. A purpose meant to conceal."
Alberich gave him an acceding nod, turning to lean one hip against the table, crossing his arms. "If it will make you more comfortable, then. Are you ready to discuss things now?"
Kyn felt his lips twist into an acerbic smile. "No. But there's little enough time left to pander to such sensibilities."
A rare hesitation flitted through the un-Herald's expression, but in the end, all he did was give another nod. "If you wish. The first question would be what you fear in retribution from your master, and why you do so."
Kyn shook his head sharply. "No. The first question is what you know of the duke."
"Think you that you're in a position to be bargaining?"
He remained stubbornly silent.
The weaponsmaster smiled thinly before gesturing toward the books laid out across the table in various states of repose. "You might already have all the answers."
"I know I don't have all the answers," Kyn responded shortly, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms in a deliberate gesture of belligerence. "I've only just begun to get hints of what happened in the family itself. But most of what is in the library concentrates only on the formation of the land boundaries between the various holdings. I want to know how Se'Fannouel became the lord of Lynxfinn Holdings, when all I can find before his generation are references to Mrr'Thaine."
"Details on the families themselves would most likely be held in their personal libraries, rather than at the capitol," Alberich conceded, "though if you looked further, you'll eventually find the official records where the name 'Se'Fannouel' was entered as the new duke of the eastern trade province.
"It started three generations back, with Danfaellar Thynn Mrr'Thaine. He married young, had children young, and became a widower young. Two sons were birthed, barely a year apart: Vinsenail, the firstborn, and Jendail. Infection took the wife unexpectedly after the birth of the second son, and rather than resort to a wet nurse and governesses, Danfaellar decided that his sons would be raised with a proper mother. One week after his first wife was laid to rest, he proposed suit to a young baroness, a widow herself, with a one-year-old son." Kyn closed his eyes, bit back a queasy feeling in his middle that might have been anxiety, vision, or breakfast, and refused to let himself contemplate anything but the most superficial facts.
This was it. He was finally getting the story that he had longed for and dreaded to hear.
There was the soft, muffled scuff of book covers sliding across each other, pages turning as the weaponsmaster idly leafed through one tome or another while he spoke. "Though it seemed he had chosen in unseemly haste, the baroness' credentials were nothing if not impeccable. She was past her mourning period, and had comported herself appropriately throughout. Her late husband's resources were quite admirable for a man of his position, the lands near to the duke's and easily tied in to existing borders with a few more judicious purchases. The woman herself, by all accounts, was a lady of great poise, beauty, and dignity. Danfaellar gained himself a wife, a mother for his children, expanded holdings...and she, an elevation in rank, and a lord husband and protector for herself and her son." There was a pause, long enough that Kyn opened his eyes to find the un-Herald staring unblinkingly at him.
"Her son," Kyn murmured. "Aisner Se'Fannouel."
Alberich nodded. "Back then, it was Aisner syn Mrr'Thaine, after the old rules that governed the Mrr'Thaine family's nomenclature. The children grew up as brothers, shared everything as if they were blood..."
"Everything but for the inheritance?" Kyn prodded, trying to recall what he could of the rules of ascension in the texts that he had been forced to study long ago, texts that he wouldn't have paid a second glance to, if it hadn't meant Master's fickle ire. What need had he to learn of the rules that nobles played by?
The un-Herald tilted his head minutely. "By all accounts, they seemed quite content. Danfaellar met with an untimely death a few years before Vinsenail would have reached his majority. An accident on a hunt, supposedly, a sport of which he had been quite fond of. The circumstances had appeared innocuous, the former baroness did not vanish with the treasury, and Vinsenail survived without incident to become duke in two years. All in all, it had seemed that the early deaths plaguing the family had finally lifted itself when nothing untoward occurred in the following years."
"Seemed," Kyn prompted, unconsciously tensing, fingers itching - perhaps for the comfort of a knife.
"Seemed," Alberich agreed easily, laying down the book he had been distracting himself with. "Aisner married. Vinsenail married. Within a year, the latter proclaimed that his new bride was with child. There were no complications during pregnancy, the child arrived nearly to the day that it was expected, and the Mrr'Thaine line was guaranteed a continuance in the next generation through the healthy baby boy that was delivered. He was five years old when the Mrr'Thaines were wiped out."
Kyn's breath froze in his lungs, his very heart seeming to pause as he stared at the weaponsmaster, the nonchalant words so at odds with the import of their meaning. "Wiped out?" he husked. "Every one of them?"
The un-Herald nodded, hitching his thumbs through his belt, shifting his weight into a more comfortable position. "Vinsenail. His pretty young wife. Their son. The brother, Jendail. A fire had swept through the entire wing...a freak accident, from all reports."
"But...the Lynxfinn manor is made of stone," Kyn whispered, shivering, his eyes sliding away from the weaponsmaster's blindly. "A veritable firestorm would have had to blow through for an entire wing to be taken down without warning."
A soft shuff of leather and a single, soft clink of metal and Alberich crouched before him. "Do you see something, Kyn?"
Kyn shuddered, gaze snapping back to the man with the softly uttered words. "No. I don't see the past, just the future. Sometimes. The baroness become duchess? How much of an accident was it?"
Seemingly taking his words at face value, Alberich straightened before replying, "Accounts surrounding the evening are confused. The source was never discovered; everything from an overturned lamp near oil barrels for refilling them to a stray drake have been suggested, the latter in particular taking hold when several servants claimed they heard a beast's roar echo over the grounds just before the fire swept through. No beast was ever sighted, however. And as for whether Aisner's mother is responsible for all of it...the point is debatable, for she too perished in the flames. Either she was another innocent, or she did not escape her own mad scheme."
A soft breath, released ever so lightly, as if afraid of upsetting the ghosts of past tragedies from their rest. "And only a Se'Fannouel was left."
"Only Se'Fannouels," Alberich corrected grimly. "A daughter, which had been born a few years after the latest Lynxfinn scion - Mennifei - and her mother also survived."
So convenient. "You suspect it was him, then?" Kyn asked after a few heartbeats of silence, when the oppressive stillness became too much to bear. "You think he was responsible for it all?"
"He might be. Or he might not. Our investigation, however, does not touch directly upon it. All of these events occurred over a decade ago."
Kyn shifted uneasily in his seat. "Then why are you investigating him now?"
"Because of the black arts that he is rumored to be practicing. His sudden interest in expansion. But most of all, who else might be standing behind him, goading him on. The duke might be the misdirection, the magician's trick, distracting the eye while the hand strikes somewhere more vital."
Kyn slowly drew his legs up, hooking the heels of his feet over the seat's edge and wrapping his arms around his bent knees, peeking over the tops of them broodingly. "I don't know anything about that," he finally offered, slowly and carefully, weighing each word that he was willing to give the un-Herald for all its worth. "I only know of the feud between him and Master."
Alberich opened his hands, palm up. "I have offered freely what you wanted to know."
Now it is your turn, was the unsubtle implication. "Careful, that might cut both ways. I know you're still holding things back. Quite a bit of it."
One brow rose archly. "Perhaps you would like to know my mother's name and her favorite fruit as well. Some details are unnecessary."
"Unnecessary to you, perhaps. Should I apply the same definition to what I divulge?"
"You have already withheld much. What you say now is to balance the scales."
"Scales that you've rigged," Kyn accused, perhaps unjustly. But he had learned long ago to press any advantage he might have with the weaponsmaster, whether real or imagined, because he wouldn't have it for very long.
"That may be. But you were not trully expecting fairness, were you?"
Kyn stiffened, opened his mouth, and found himself caught on the choice of either calling Alberich on the point and appearing naive, or letting it pass. Seeing the knowing look on the un-Herald's face only clinched it as Kyn grumbled ineffectively for a breath or two before finally giving in. "I don't even know that much about the feud itself. All I have been able to tell so far is that Master has tried time and again to kill the duke, and the duke has thus far evaded all attempts without mishap."
"And were you to be one of those attempts?"
Kyn hesitated, looking away. "I don't know. Maybe. I was never given specific instructions on the matter."
"Yet you acted anyway, that night."
Yes, he had. How foolish it seemed now, thinking back on it! But he had been overtaken by panic by the vision, uncertain and off-balance from his seeming abandonment in alien territory. Even now, he could recall the exact path of his thoughts at the time, that led to the confrontation of the duke in his own room, and couldn't think of anything he might have done differently, knowing only what he had then. "I did. A mistake. But at the time, it had seemed like a good idea."
"And why was that?"
"Why was it a mistake? Or why did it seem like a good idea? If the latter, because I believed he was eventually going to kill me." I still do. "If the former, because I went in unprepared. My ignorance cost me dearly."
Alberich frowned, taking a step closer and - perhaps unintentionally - looming over him as he said darkly, "You were found with one wrist slit, and a blood mark on your forehead. Sianni had been blocked completely, and not by you. What did Se'Fannouel do to you? What have you seen?"
Kyn tilted his head back, eyeing the man suspiciously. "What have you seen? What does your Sight warn you of"
"Vague things," the weaponsmaster noted with a short, warning shake of his head. "All of them surrounding you. You overwhelm anything else I might see beyond immediate and concrete threats."
An unexpected confession, to be sure. Pursing his lips, Kyn mulled over the revelation, how it fit in with the un-Herald's behavior before and what it might mean for their future interactions, before shrugging as casually as he could. "He performed some sort of binding. I have seen Master execute similar works."
"You are admitting that your master is also a practitioner of the black arts, then?"
"You already knew that he's drawn blood from me before. I am sure Nadia has only confirmed your suspicions along the way."
Alberich seemed to search his face for something at the bold words, but when Kyn did not flinch away from his probing gaze, the un-Herald nodded. "Tell me of what you have seen."
Kyn took a deep breath, sorted through his options, and then proceeded to pick his way through the scenes as delicately as if he were walking through a field seeded liberally with caltrops. He was far too conscious of Alberich's keen attention to anything not only pertaining to the duke, but to Master as well, as evidenced by the man's pointed query.
He carefully weeded out all references to Master, or any tell-tales that would indicate anything about him, such as his disabilities. He filtered out names, and smudged the ties between him and Se'Fannouel nearly into indecipherability. Even as he dropped one clue after another from the telling, knowing that at each turn he was probably seriously hampering the weaponsmaster's investigation, he couldn't quite bring himself to admit it all. He might be unwittingly breaking his ties from Master one after the other, but nothing could force him into betraying him outright.
Alberich indulged in a half dozen strides that took him to one end of the room and partway back after the narration, pausing half across the floor to frown questioningly at Kyn. "You believe, then, that the first death you saw involving the girl was an alternate scene resulting from an attempt to prevent the second?"
He nodded slowly, swallowing at the reminder of his misstep. "If she is to be a sacrifice...then yes. Unless Se'Fannouel substitutes his wife, of whom I have yet to see, there won't be anyone else remotely suitable - though I suppose it is all relative, considering the evidence of the care he pays Mennifei."
A half turn, and another three steps back to the wall. "No, there would be no others. His wife died two years ago. A suicide." Kyn looked up sharply at the weaponsmaster, but finding no suitable response, remained silent as the man mulled over the new information. "And what of you, now?"
"What?" Kyn blinked, as the un-Herald suddenly and abruptly focused on him.
"What of you? Sianni indicated that you believe you are in danger now. From thwarting your master's plans?"
Kyn shifted his weight in his chair, dropping his arms and legs to plant both feet flat on the ground, hands gripping the seat's sides. "Maybe. I don't know. I've been operating outside of the guidelines for too long to tell, now."
Alberich nodded, his mind made up on one matter or another, and strode for the door. "A guard you will have then," he said, already beginning to lapse back into his habitual speech amongst the Heralds, "just in case. Consider, would you, accepting the duke's invitation?"
Kyn was still pondering possible responses to being blatantly under guard once again - even if it was for his protection this time instead of others' - when he blinked dumbly at the weaponsmaster for a moment. "I beg your pardon?"
"Consider," the un-Herald repeated himself with ill patience, "would you, accepting the duke's invitation?"
"I thought you had already made the decision for me?" Kyn drew out, waiting to see if the weaponsmaster really was offering what he thought the man was offering - an apology.
Alberich shrugged one shoulder uncomfortably, and actually looked away. "Mistake, I might have made. Consulted you beforehand, I should have. But," he added sternly, "be sure that the shortest route only had I in mind. No doubt have I that all can be resolved in the days that you stay there."
How typical; can't even offer a straight apology without providing enough reasoning to make it seem like he had made the best decision possible. Even more infuriating, however, was how usually he was right. Sighing in resignation, Kyn conceded, "Yes, I want this over with as soon as possible. I'll - " His voice unexpectedly caught on the agreement, an apprehension tightening on his throat until he had to clear it before he finished with a modicum of normality, "I'll go visit the duke at his request."
Apparently hearing all that he needed to hear, Alberich gave a bare nod before reaching for the door's handle.
"Why didn't you Truth Spell me just now? Sianni's not here to stop you."
"If necessary I had thought it, nothing would stop me from the execution of my duties." Alberich tilted his head, though he did not look back. "But agreeable, I would much rather have you be, than forced. Believe I do also, that you have lost your taste for being forced. That look you gave me, during my last attempt at the spell, was evidence enough."
Kyn bit his lip, flinching at the reminder, but unable to gainsay it. Something else prodded at him as the un-Herald was about to leave, a whimsical thought that he gave voice to before it fully formed in his mind. "How did you know they missed me? The instructors."
The un-Herald paused in the doorway, half-turning to cast Kyn a look that could only be termed as...disgruntled. "Misfortune I had of traveling down the same corridors as they. Less than amusing rumor there is that you are under my care. Accosted me for your whereabouts they did. Too good of an example you set for the others to stop now, they say."
Kyn's mouth twitched, a lapse that he quickly corrected as the weaponsmaster's frown deepened. "It is your own fault for associating with me so much."
Alberich grunted noncommittally. "See how cheeky you will be after your next weapons practice," he threatened unconvincingly, shutting the door behind him with more force than was his wont.
How very odd. I could have sworn the reviews had been at 81...but now they're at 80. I hope I didn't accidentally do something to lose one...if so, I apologize to whoever got dropped. If you don't find yourself being replied to here, please let me know. Thank you. =)
Megan - patpats Naw, don't feel bad about it. I didn't make it easy on you at all, quite intentionally. I didn't want you figuring out *everything* all at once; where would be the suspense that keeps you coming back for more? =D But I'm very glad to hear that I haven't lost you completely. Let me know if you feel lost in the future? At least then I can sound out whether I'm successful in keeping you in the dark in all the right places - if you're lost and I didn't mean to put you there, it means I should rewrite some stuff. =P
SCWLC - Welcome aboard! Thank you for such a glowing review. Hope I don't disappoint.
ola - laughs The lack of words is all the more flattering. ^_~
Firefox - I trust the speed at which this chapter was issued is satisfactory? =)
nightangel - Well, not an accent, per se. (Considering the thickness of the accents other characters sported in Thief, Alberich was a definite lightweight.) It's more a matter of a was of talking. Check out my notes under the "Intermission" section if you haven't already; it pretty much outlines everything I had been thinking on the matter at the time. I'm afraid I don't have much else to add to it right now, but I'm definitely keeping in mind a deeper peek into the man's speech (especially now that I've discovered the SF library).
M'cha Araem - Eh, actually...it's pretty close to the truth. =P To make a *very* long story shorter...I moved back to school in the beginning of July. As soon as I got resettled into my apartment/house (bottom half of a duplex) after being away for over half a year, I gave notice to my landlady that I was planning to move out along with all 3 of my other roomies on September 1. The landlady then replied back asking if I minded 'tidying' up the place as she was going to start showing it to potential renters immediately. (Btw, 'tidy' had a very strict definition here.) During the summer, I agreed to help out with a program that housed high school students in the dorms to give them a taste of college life. I was one of the RAs that would be on duties at night, and so I was given a room. Thus, I adhered to 'tidying up' by moving all my stuff into the dorms. (Move #2 - btw, not only was that particular dorm on the highest point of the campus - and we have very big hills here - but the room was on the fourth floor...and no elevators *ugh*). The summer program lasted one and a half months, and luckily, the landlady managed to find renters right before it ended...because at the program's end, I had to move everything back into my place. (Move #3) This was mid-August then.
The reason why I was moving out on Sept 1 is cuz one roomy's getting a house in SF, and I was gonna stick with her. Except that she hadn't found an appropriate house to buy by then yet. So we had two weeks (in which we were still working and, in my case, finishing a summer class) in which to find a place to stay pseudo-temporarily, move everything out of the old place, and find storage. Well...we managed it. Barely. Except the new place wouldn't be ready until 3 days after we had to move out of the old place. So then we bunked at my roomy's mom's friend's place. That would be...let's see, move #3, #4, and #5 when we finally got to the new place. I'm sure there's a couple of one-halves in there too, if you counted all the friends' places we dumped stuff at when the storage place closed its gates before we finished moving everything out. (Doesn't help that two previous roomies left a *lot* of crap behind that we had to sort and clean out.) takes a deep breath But, anyway, it was an interesting time, and it makes for a rather amusing, if long-winded tale. Especially the part where we shuffled around the old place/friend's place/new place. And we're planning to move yet again at the year's end to the house that's just been settled on. Joyous, ain't it? =P
Hrm, hope I didn't just bore you to death there...I'm half asleep myself...zzzZZZzzz...