The Words Between - part 17b
Kyn had not given their names to the guardsmen at the gates. He wanted time to get his bearings before being led up to the duke like fatted stock to the table. There had been a perfunctory interrogation on their purpose for visiting the city, but otherwise, they had been ushered through with little notice beyond a reflexive cataloguing of their collegium uniforms and the presence of Companions. Brianna received a little more attention with her guardsman's bearing and openly-borne weapons, but within a double handful of words, she had managed to not only get the two men on their side of the gate to laugh and grimace in commiseration with her to some occupation-related gripe, but invite her to a round of drinks at the currently favored tavern that evening.
Observing the entire process closely - and not without a touch of jealousy - Kyn decided it was a talent that he would never possess, at least, not in the same manner. All in all, he was discovering that Alberich's choice of people to sic on him was not that disappointing at all - if they ever got past the baring of fang and claw in ritual posturing stage.
"The city doesn't look like its lord is practicing forbidden arts," Brin leaned over to whisper into Kyn's ear as they threaded their way down the main thoroughfare, and Kyn didn't quite manage to hold back a quelling glare for the obvious statement before rethinking the matter and shaking his head with a sigh.
"No, it does not," he muttered, though not exactly in agreement. Brin had brought up an interesting point that he had not considered before - what did a land under the rule of a man swayed by blood magic look like? Would there be obvious signs of suffering? Should there be any signs of suffering at all? Depending on the man's goals, the necessary sacrifices could be anything from the occasional cup of animal blood to entire wholesale slaughter of human victims - and Kyn realized with foreboding that he still did not know exactly what the duke was after. "Keep any other observations to yourself for now. No point in making ourselves even more conspicuous." Chastened, Brin fell silent and Raolian began to drift away after what could be interpreted as a remonstrative look. Kyn might have felt a hint of remorse, for he hadn't really intended the words as a criticism, but the boy really ought to have known better. Sianni made a tentative bid for mental contact, but Kyn coldly ignored the advance, and nearly bit his tongue when she retaliated with an unexpected skip in her step, jogging his spine from tailbone to skull.
Oblivious to the complex undercurrents running through the newest additions to the noon-day crowds, hawkers continued to try and draw the attentions of the passersby, their well-oiled spiels blending with dozens of conversations into a low hum that both soothed with its normalcy and grated for what it might hide beneath its clamor. Open stalls were not as frequent as actual storefronts; any individual peddlers were more likely to be pushing along their own cart or bearing their wares on their own two feet. They wandered with their customers, the avenue broad enough that there was still enough room for beast-drawn traffic down the center without jostling elbows or trodding on feet.
The architecture was eclectic at best. In the outer sections of the city at least, the influences of many generations and periods could be seen, starting from the city's very first days as little more than a settlement around a fort in unadorned, utilitarian granite blocks, to the broad, sweeping curves of wood facades that were the current favorite in decoration - all thrown together in a hodgepodge tangle of buildings old and new. As they progressed inwards, the tastes seemed to sort themselves out somewhat, districts revealing themselves by style, age, and subtle shifts in the skills and services offered. Crowds thinned as stores gave way to guilds and other, more esoteric business, and then finally evaporated altogether when they reached the residential areas surrounding the city's inner wall. Though many of the buildings were obviously constructed within the last few centuries, here too the materials and styles of construction were wide and varied.
The space past the inner wall was reserved solely for the keep itself.
"You said it used to be a fortress?" Nadia mumbled without taking her eyes from the open gates and the portions of the buildings beyond that were visible. Kyn nodded distantly, most of his attention directed toward trying to correlate what he knew of the floor plans to visible landmarks. "Still looks like a bloody fortress," she finished firmly before following a small but steady stream of people and carted goods through the inner gates, left wide for the traffic though another set of guards were stationed in full view on either side as deterrent for any casual trouble.
Kyn couldn't help agreeing, though his distraction came more from the realization of what the place might hold and who it did hold than its aesthetic qualities or lack thereof. Trailing after the healer, their little retinue eventually found itself in a relatively open area in the courtyard that the gates immediately led to, and here Kyn took the chance to dismount. Sliding gratefully off Sianni's back, he took his time reaccustoming himself to bearing his own weight on two riding-stiffened legs before taking a slow look around.
There were quite a few additions to the layouts that Brin had managed to find for him that he could see from his current vantage point. While the maps were dated little more than half a century before, he could already make out many differences, and shuddered to think how much the interior of the keep itself might have changed. Half-turning to squint up toward the main building itself, he felt something leaden form in the pit of his stomach as he noted the most ostentatious one by far: four square towers, placed each at what he knew were the cardinal points even though relative to the holding, they were slightly skewed from the orientation of the wings. None of them had even been hinted at in the floor maps he had studied.
There was an almost palpable dread associated with them in his mind, something that his muzzled Sight was desperately trying to tell him but which he couldn't even begin to grasp, the twin pressures of frustration and whatever thwarted his Gift a smothering weight in his chest until he felt almost light-headed from a perceived lack of air.
"Were you planning on informing me of your arrival, or was I supposed to be pleasantly surprised at the evening meal?"
Kyn bit back a retort that even he knew would not be flattering - no matter how it was interpreted - and turned to face the duke, somehow managing a small, empty smile along the way. "My lord," he said formally, bowing his head, "I beg your pardon for not announcing myself immediately at the gates, but I had not wished to interrupt your schedule." In actuality, he was a little unnerved by Se'Fannouel's prompt appearance. Heralds and Companions should not have been a novel sight, at least in the city proper, and there had been nothing else that would indicate the guards were placed on the alert for their descriptions. For the duke to have noticed them so quickly upon passing through the city's inner gates...
Did you really think you could come within thirty feet of me without my noticing?
It seemed that the duke had only spoken the utter truth that time, if all it had taken for him to detect Kyn's presence was the fact that they had happened to be in the same general area. Which meant that Kyn's already slim chances of stopping the man and his schemes had just dwindled even further. If I'm not just letting paranoia interpret coincidence as conspiracy. There was danger in that too, overestimating an opponent.
"Do you think I hold my daughter's life in so little esteem that I would not place my business on hold for the time it takes to greet her rescuer?"
Kyn's smile turned even more brittle as their eyes met with perfect understanding. "I would not presume to assess what worth my lord finds his daughter's life," he drawled between bared teeth, noting with no little interest the brief frown that flickered across the man's face - for all the world as if the duke had taken offense at the insinuation. "But I am flattered that he holds me in such high regard." Out of the corners of his eyes, he barely caught Brianna rolling her eyes.
The expression seemed to have caught the duke's attention as well as the man interrupted the game of baiting to coolly examine the woman with an upraised brow. "The boy and the healer I recognize, but it seems you have picked up another companion along the way."
Brianna straightened to a form of attention and bowed her head in curt acknowledgement of his rank, if not complete respect. All considering, she was on remarkably good behavior. "Brianna Tannin, recently of the queen's guard."
"Recently of the queen's guard?" Se'Fannouel's eyes narrowed in a frown as he clasped his hands behind him. "And you've decided to depart and find work elsewhere...?"
"Oh, no," Brianna informed with such cheerfulness that Kyn cringed inwardly. The guardswoman always sounded the happiest when she was contemplating some sort of mischief. "I'm currently on vacation. When I heard young Kyn here was going off traveling, I demanded for what time I had accumulated immediately. I couldn't possibly let him wander off by himself. He's like a little brother to me, you see." She made a movement toward Kyn, but he ducked away before she could cuff and ruffle his hair, giving her a perplexed glare in the process. He didn't know whether he was more aghast at her portrayal of their relationship, or how she had just so casually lied to the duke when they all knew she was fabricating everything on the spot.
Still, the duke didn't seem intent on making a spectacle of it for the moment. Se'Fannouel's brows knit, making the man look nearly as bewildered as Kyn felt. Nodding a little absently, the duke murmured, "I see," and struggled to dismiss the subject when all he received was a gamine grin from Brianna in response instead of further elucidation. "Well. It is a...pleasure to have met you, Brianna. Rooms have already been prepared in expectation of your arrival, Kyn, and any extra guests that you might have brought with - "
"Sen!" a call interrupted the duke, and everyone turned to see a man dressed in the rich clothes of some lordling, white-gold hair gleaming platinum in the high sun, striding rapidly toward them with ground-eating paces but somehow managing to appear completely composed in the process. "What were you thinking, wandering off like that? I was not quite done with you yet!"
Se'Fannouel uttered a sigh, visibly gathering himself as he responded in a raised voice to be heard over the rapidly diminishing distance, "If you had been paying any attention to what I was saying instead of the quite delectable but very married young Lady Rosalind, you would have known that there was business that I had to see to."
Brin's mouth dropped open as he realized the newcomer's brash words had been directed toward the duke, and then snapped closed again just as quickly when Se'Fannouel replied in the same spirit, the two obviously close friends. Nadia was regarding the entire scene with impatience - or perhaps it was thinly disguised nervousness considering the way her eyes darted toward every abrupt movement within the courtyard. Brianna had drawn herself up alertly at the first hail, though now she stood in her usual, loose-limbed, seemingly relaxed stance after a quick assessment of the arriving lord. Kyn himself had done his own snap-estimation of the man before turning quickly to catch everyone's response, a vague curiosity creeping over him as to what Se'Fannouel was like in his own territory surrounded by people he knew intimately.
"Are you implying that I had designs on the beautiful and virtuous Lady Rosalind? For shame," the lordling exclaimed as he pulled abreast of the duke. Quirking his brows upward, he continued, "And are we to have guests tonight?"
The duke smiled thinly, gesturing toward each person in turn as he introduced them. "Brin, Nadia, Brianna, Kyn...this is the baron Tarrin Salvonsson, a family friend. Tarrin, I invited them to spend a few days with us. Please remain on your best behavior."
Tarrin immediately sketched out a flamboyant bow toward the women, making Nadia shift uncomfortably with a scowl and Brianna smile widely in amusement. "Erstwhile friend on occasion, depending on his mood, but I do try - " He broke off abruptly, olive-green eyes dragging to a halt when they fell on Kyn in their perusal of the newcomers. Kyn experienced his own touch of surprise as he examined the man intently in turn, trying to place where in the havens he had seen him before...
"And I can attest to the fact that he is very trying," Se'Fannouel noted dryly in the unexpected pause that followed.
Kyn cautiously glanced between the two men as the duke's remark drew him from his reveries. A flash of confusion flitted across Tarrin's face, quickly replaced by something much grimmer as the pale eyes slid toward the duke, and Se'Fannouel's expression was edged by something almost...smug. The baron's mouth thinned, a muscle jumping in his jaw, before he finished straightening with a bright and nearly genuine-looking smile. "Well, his lordship has yet to send me to the gaols, so I suppose I am still safely within his good graces for now. If you would like to avail yourselves of my company while my head is still firmly attached to my shoulders - and I do encourage you to do so, I am told that it is an experience not to be missed - I would be happy to regale you with tales of Aisner's past follies..."
"I would contend that your head is as loosely attached as your tongue, and that either is equally easy to remove," Se'Fannouel interrupted blandly as he motioned toward the main hall. "But you do have your uses. I am afraid there are matters that will most likely keep me occupied until the evening meal. If you are courageous enough to place yourselves in the care of my cousin here, I will allow him to entertain you until I am able to be a proper host myself."
"Allow me?" Tarrin mock bristled. "And what do you suppose a seneschal is for, Sen?"
Kyn nodded tersely, ignoring the baron's antics. "Of course, my lord."
The duke smiled indulgently. "And perhaps later, we can meet for a private discussion. There is much I would like to ask you about."
Inclining his head, Kyn mumbled beneath his breath, "Likewise."
"Tarrin, the guest rooms along the second floor of the west wing have been aired out for them," Se'Fannouel said as he nodded in farewell.
Sighing dramatically as the duke departed, Tarrin surveyed the group once more and then gestured toward the keep's main entrance. "Well, it seems that I have been left with the responsibility of seeing you to your rooms and other such pleasantries. Do not worry for your Companions; Heralds often pass through Lynxfinn, and we have experienced stable hands. If you will come with me, please..."
They took down their personal packs and belongings from the saddlebags, and reluctantly turned the Companions over to the care of two stable boys that had been patiently waiting near the courtyard's peripheries as soon as the ivory steeds had entered. Glancing back occasionally to make sure that they were all following, Tarrin alternately entertained them with snippets of the keep's history as they walked up the six shallow steps leading to the main entrance and fussed over any straggling members like a mother duck over her train of young ones.
The baron proved to be surprisingly well informed on Lynxfinn's particulars as they passed between the iron-strapped doors, the portal left open though guards stood imposingly to either side, the slant of their spears dissuading casual entry. Kyn noted their prompt straightening upon Tarrin's approach with great interest, the men - armored and tabarded in the duke's colors of blue and gold - drawing themselves to stiff attention and snapping their weapons aside with a responsiveness that he had not thought the baron would warrant. Seemingly oblivious, Tarrin chattered on about various snippets of ancient gossip and the building's architectural eccentricities as he led them inside.
The main hall was almost cavernous in feel, cool and shadowed, framed all around by rough-dressed stone punctuated only by small, distant windows far overhead. It was surprisingly large; nearly three stories above, when the keep's highest point sported four floors if one discounted the towers. At the far end was set an array of chairs of varying proportions behind a long table on a low dais - a somewhat pretentious display for conducting audiences, but Kyn reserved any opinions on the duke's practices until he could observe the man further. Se'Fannouel had already proved that he was no fool where appearances were concerned.
Despite its size however, the main hall did not depend on the one feature alone to impress. Other than the distant, echoing space that dwarfed any petitioners that ventured within, there was one other thing that imprinted its presence indelibly on the memory: its pillars. A full dozen lined it on either side, creating a wide corridor down its center while leaving the hall's edges in the shadow of a lower ceiling, their girths requiring more than two grown men with their arms outstretched to span. And like the hall itself, beyond their sheer size, they were imposing for another reason - each one was intricately carved with a single figure.
Demons bore Lynxfinn upon their shoulders.
Great, snarling visages pinned sightless eyes upon whoever was bold enough to stride down the center of the hall. Shackled by the weight of the stone blocks upon their bowed backs, the demons steadied their burdens with gnarled, claw-tipped grasps. Each pair of statues were vastly different; some had wings, others had horns, some looked leathery in texture while the rest bore scales or other armor. Each boasted different features and identifiably divergent shapes, and yet were all alike in form - powerful, fearsome, hunched upon one knee while they strained beneath their burdens, faces twisted in a silent growl in their wrath.
Gazing upon the carved faces, Kyn shuddered and swayed with a sudden bout of dizziness, mouth abruptly dry and heart racing from some unknown fear that a hobbled Gift would not allow full substance.
:Kyn,: Nadia's thought impinged gently on the suffocating silence that had engulfed him. He shivered anew when she touched his elbow, her presence an almost scalding warmth against his right side. :Kyn, what is wrong?:
:N-nothing,: he returned shakily, tearing his gaze away and staring determinedly at the floor, willing the fit to pass. Sensing her annoyance and not wishing to alienate her even further within the enemy's own home, he amended, :Nothing that you can help with.:
:Are you certain?:
He nodded as he pulled away, carefully avoiding looking toward the pillars again, joining the baron and Brin where the two had become embroiled in conversation while Brianna explored one of the columns in more detail. :Just...they were just trying to remind me of something.: He could feel her confusion though she did not press, and he was all too grateful when the baron began to wander off, continuing the tour out of the hall while he answered Brin's questions with Brianna tossing in one or two inquiries along the way. Few people resided in the hall, most busily passing through on whatever errand they were on, casting the occasional look of curiosity their way but otherwise acknowledging nothing beyond their immediate tasks.
They were led through a short, snake-like corridor that folded in on itself in slow curves before entering a vastly different part of the keep. In the west wing, the ceilings were lower, the floor paneled in wood, lamps hanging from the walls rather than smoky torch sconces. It held a surprising warmth though the walls were otherwise unadorned, and the windows that occasionally dotted the corridors were large and expansive, sporting precious glass. Climbing a flight of stairs that wound around in a shallow spiral, they were treated to the same scheme above, one side of the hall that ran the length of the building interrupted evenly by plain wooden doors. Tarrin began to tie up the end of some anecdote - one that Kyn had barely caught one word in five of - that had Brin blushing brightly and even Brianna looking a little startled, and waved flamboyantly toward three doors in particular that had been propped half-open, a barely detectable breeze indicating that windows in the rooms had been opened as well to allow the air to circulate. "And here we have arrived, safe and sound, to your accommodations. It appears that we have prepared one room short, however; I am afraid two of you will have to share."
"That would be myself and Kyn," Brianna declared blithely, immediately stepping past the baron into the first room to survey its layout.
Tarrin blinked, staring after the guardswoman for a moment before turning a speculative gaze on Kyn, a corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly upwards. "Possessive, isn't she?"
Kyn stared levelly back at the baron, not about to dignify the implication with a response.
Tarrin's smile grew a little wider before he was distracted by Brianna's reappearance. Hands braced on her hips, already divested of her packs, Brianna had a satisfied expression as she stood in the doorway, surveying the corridor. "Looks good," she proclaimed.
"I am happy that the domicile meets with m'lady's approval," Tarrin intoned soberly, drawing a snort of amusement from the guardswoman. Winking, he then turned to the rest of them, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly. "Well, since there are still a few candlemarks left till the evening's meal, perhaps we should take a stroll through the gardens? We might not have the sophistication and refinement of Haven society, but the gardens created and tended by each successive generation of duchesses are a wonder to behold. If it weren't for the somewhat insular characters of Lynxfinn's lords, I would daresay they would be renowned throughout the land - and it would not hurt to work up an appetite before eating. Aisner never withholds the largesse of the land."
"He's even worse than you," Nadia teased Brin in low tones, garnering an embarrassed flush which she ameliorated with a muted laugh.
Kyn mulled over the offer for little more than a heartbeat before he decided, "I will go." He looked toward Brin and caught the boy's eyes with his own. "How tired are you, Brin?" he asked pointedly. "I can show them to you later if you wish to rest."
There was a gratifyingly short, though nevertheless detectable pause as Brin's brows knit in confusion. But then the boy's face cleared and he nodded - perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, but the look of apology he turned on the baron was appropriately earnest. "Yes, I'm afraid I'm not used to traveling. If my lord would excuse me, I will take the chance to rest."
"Of course, of course," Tarrin said graciously, giving no indication that he had noticed the momentary lapse when Brin was trying to interpret Kyn's intentions. "And the ladies?" he turned to Brianna and Nadia.
"I go where he goes," the guardswoman stated bluntly, gesturing toward Kyn, a response that drew another sly smile from the baron before he turned to Nadia for her answer.
The healer hesitated only briefly before nodding. "I would like to see the gardens as well."
"Wonderful! It would not have been the same with only us bachelors. While the gardens are truly enchanting, even at this time of the year," he swept up Nadia's hand and bowed over it with a suggestive smile before she could protest, "there are other blossoms that our eyes are more naturally drawn by," he finished in a low, sultry tone.
Nadia stiffened and snatched her hand out of his grasp, visibly curbing a sharp rejoinder before settling on a cold, "I am lifebonded, Lord Tarrin."
"And is your bonded so miserly that he would not allow others a glimpse of his bounty?"
Nadia drew herself up with a deep breath, eyes flashing and voice cutting. "I am not a bauble to be taken out and displayed at another man's whim!"
Tarrin held up his hands in the universal gesture for peace - or surrender - and backed away with a less than contrite look. "Please pardon my hasty words, madam! I wished merely to flatter, not to offend. But alas," he bemoaned, gaze sliding toward Brianna with a hint of trepidation, "your adamant refusal to indulge my innocent attentions leaves me with...few options."
Brianna cocked an eyebrow, and then gave him a feral smile that would have done a fire drake proud in the number of teeth that were bared.
While they were distracted amongst themselves, Kyn stepped close to Brin, taking the chance to lean over and murmur, "Find Mennifei. Make friends with her. Give her something that your Sight can follow, and check on her wellbeing every half candlemark."
"You want me to - I-I can't spy on her!" Brin spluttered, face unaccountably reddening as he turned abruptly to face Kyn.
"You spied on me," he reminded sharply.
"That - that was different," the trainee insisted, shifting his feet and looking quickly away.
"Why?" Kyn asked impatiently.
"Because you're a boy!" Brin hissed with a faintly scandalized tone. "And I made sure to check up on you only when you were out and about!"
Kyn stared at him for a long breath before he realized what the trainee was getting at, and then rolled his eyes with a frustrated noise. "I am not asking you to watch, for havens' sakes! I just want you to make sure she is safe!"
Brin tilted his head skeptically, but as Kyn continued to glower at him, he finally nodded before grimacing, "Do I really have to be friends with her?"
Kyn sighed in resignation, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just do whatever you have to do to allow your Farsight to follow her movements. Understand?"
Bryn nodded unhappily, and Kyn returned his attention to the others in time to catch the baron looking decidedly pale. Brianna had an expression so smug that a cat would have turned green with envy, while Nadia - Nadia looked far too amused for Kyn's comfort. The healer had often sported similar looks when it was at his expense, and he felt an unexpected stroke of pity for Tarrin - though not enough that he would have wished the same situation visited on himself instead. Not waiting for the scene to finish with, perhaps, the women's fickle moods swinging unexpectedly toward including him in their 'fun', Kyn interrupted, "Shall we go?"
The gardens truly were a splendid affair, at least in the sense that they were extensive and well-tended. Kyn had experienced few beyond the occasional plot he had wandered through on his errands and, of course, the half-wild one at the manse. But even he was able to sense that the tamed jungle they were entering was somewhat above the par.
"The water tables here are deep enough to allow us some small luxuries," Tarrin joked, seemingly unfazed when nobody responded to his tongue-in-cheek comment. "Though most of the gardens are similar, some sport a truly unique flavor that one can only find far, far from here, if not outside Valdemar's borders altogether. The duchesses can be very imaginative, and some had traveled widely, bringing their experiences with them."
There were indeed distinct 'plots' despite the lack of anything as overt as fences or walls, the layout and vegetation changing abruptly at some prearranged, invisible border. Nadia's hand kept straying toward a leaf or twig, fingering the texture and occasionally breaking off a small sample to examine more closely, sometimes tucking it away in her belt or some hidden pocket. Though snow had yet to fall in Lynxfinn - and would visit only briefly when it did - there was a fair amount of browns interspersed amongst the greens. It was a tribute to the tenders that the dead growth was so promptly trimmed away, allowing other, seasonal plants to claim dominance, creating a pleasing display despite the time of the year.
Bright purple and red berries provided accents in one corner, small and wrinkled and hard as nuts, while in another mosses shading rusty red and burgundy trailed teasingly over strategically placed borders and miniature trees. Curly willows with their fiery orange and yellow tendrils clashed and tangled over a small, decorative stream, the rocks that lined it rimmed with delicate fronds of frost.
"All of the duchesses contributed to the garden?" Nadia asked, fingering the smooth silvery bark of a birch as she passed.
Tarrin waved a hand vaguely as he finished his latest comment about the current scenery before answering, "Not all of them. We skip the occasional generation. A good thing too, I say, or we would have long run out of room!" Flashing them a smile over his shoulder, he brushed aside a lacey hedge of brittle, dry branches that rose over head-height and stepped around a bend in the path. "Very few of the gardens were remade altogether. Instead, most of the duchesses chose merely to contribute to the work of their predecessors; adding here, rearranging there...why, I hear tell that one in particular had no talent at all in the arrangement or raising of plants, and decided to donate a set of rocks instead! Though, one admits that they are very nice-looking rocks if you would look to the side there..."
Kyn released a silent sigh, feet following the baron automatically as his thoughts roamed elsewhere. Glancing up, he spied the edges of two of the square towers through the foliage overhead. The baron was obviously there to distract them, keeping them busy with innocuous things, but he had yet to decide whether it was merely an overenthusiastic sense of a host's obligations, or if the attempt was a conscious one encouraged by the duke. As the baron rambled on, Kyn continued to observe him surreptitiously, brow furrowing as little snatches of deja vu would pounce every so often - when the man tilted his head just so, or turned his profile in a certain manner... Though Kyn was certain he would remember the foppish-seeming lord if he had set eyes on him before, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen that visage before, though it was maddening that he could not place exactly where.
"Oh, this is most charming. Though, do you let the pool stagnate?" There was a hint of disapproval in Nadia's Healer's voice for what ills might be cultivated in bodies of standing water, and Kyn turned to see what she was referring to. Saw the pond. And felt the breath freeze in his lungs upon seeing it, his pond, sitting ever so innocently against a decorative pile of lichen-spotted boulders. Though the arrangements were different, the black-barked willows were there as well, the ring of mortared stones penning the waters in, and the smooth, undisturbed surface that reflected the sky...
"No, the garden tenders drain it every so often, more times in the summer so that the insects do not multiply unduly. They can be vicious little beasts in the heat."
"Who was responsible for this?"
As Tarrin looked toward him in confusion, Kyn realized belatedly that the question had come from him, shaped by a voice grown rough with shock and memory. "This little haven? I believe it was the duchess Kayla dan Mrr'Thaine." The man shook his head slowly, face falling into lines of sorrow as he gazed upon the pond. "A very sad story, hers. Hers, and her family's. Sen and I miss Vinsen and Jenner terribly."
"What happened?" Nadia asked quietly when the baron did not seem inclined to continue.
Tarrin shook himself, giving them a wan smile before he forced himself into a semblance of his old cheer. "Merely old history, m'lady. Perhaps the duke would tell it to you after the evening's meal, if you are still interested then. Come, let us continue on; there are only a handful of areas left in the gardens that we have not passed through yet."
Kyn found his attention wandering back toward the pond of its own volition, hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching as he considered its presence and the truths it implied, ones that he could no longer deny or ignore. But does it matter? a cold, logical voice asked from deep inside. Does the knowledge change anything? Would you act differently in any way?
And there was only one answer to that. No.
:Kyn.:
He nearly jumped, so lost in his own thoughts that Nadia's Mindspeech had startled him badly. :Yes?: he replied, a little more sharply than he probably should have, but she seemed distracted enough that she didn't notice.
:Kyn, Raolian says that Brin says there is a hall where the portraits of the dukes that have lived at Lynxfinn are hung in the northern wing. He said he thought you might be interested.:
He turned to blink at her in blank incomprehension for a moment before mild surprise leaked in. :Why did he think that?:
:I don't know. But mind telling me why he's passing this through his Companion to me, rather than relaying it to you directly or even through Sianni before going through all the trouble?:
He turned away from her accusing gaze, instead fixing on the disappearing figure of the baron as the man continued on to the next section, calling out, "My lord."
:Don't ignore me, Kyn!:
Tarrin halted with a glance back, brows raised in question. "Yes?"
Kyn ignored her. "I beg your pardon," he said formally, bowing slightly, "but I believe the journey's fatigue has finally caught up with me. I think I will be joining Brin in our rooms until the evening."
Tarrin tsked, turning to walk back the way they had come. "Why did you not say so earlier? I would have - "
"I am sure the ladies would like to see the rest of the gardens," Kyn forestalled him, holding up a hand to halt the man. "I can find my way back."
Brianna frowned, the first serious expression that had stolen over her features that Kyn could remember since they had left Haven. "I can lead the way..."
"I can find my way back," Kyn emphasized with a stern look. "I do not require an escort."
Tarrin looked between the two of them before smiling ingratiatingly and adroitly hooking his arm through Brianna's, happily oblivious to the look the guardswoman gave him at the presumption. Kyn was frankly surprised the baron's limb was still attached. "M'lady, let the boy's pride be. He seems a capable enough lad. Let me show you this delightful little copse..."
Brianna swayed but didn't otherwise move, both feet planted firmly and nearly pulling the baron off-balance when the man turned to lead her away but didn't find her quite as biddable as he had hoped. "I cannot provide protection from halfway across the holding."
Kyn tilted his head. "Are you implying that I would require protection within the duke's own home?"
"Yes," she stated flatly.
Kyn clasped his hands behind him, meeting her eyes unflinchingly. "Then I suggest you take the time to familiarize yourself with the grounds. I will see you later this evening." Without giving her a chance to produce a rebuttal, he turned and retraced their steps back to the keep.
It had been surprisingly easy to navigate his way to the northern wing; there had not been as many modifications inside the buildings themselves as he had feared. There was only one point at which he paused, when a chill draft had brushed across the back of his neck as he passed a dark alcove. Turning and taking a step toward it, he had discovered the beginnings of a staircase - a staircase that had not been in the plans, and a quick review of his position confirmed that he was close enough to one of the towers' general area that it could have led up to the construct's entrance. Backing warily away, he had marked the position carefully in his mind before loping away to explore the rest of the adjoining halls.
He found the portraits in a corridor set on the ground floor, but with a ceiling that reached nearly as high as the main hall's did. Narrow, rectangular windows were staggered with carefully framed paintings between them, the edges immaculately dusted and cleaned. Standing at one end of the corridor, gazing down the neat line of edges denoting the Mrr'Thaine bloodline hanging from the wall, Kyn couldn't help noting how quiet it was there - quiet like the manse was quiet, like the collegium never was. Though the high, vaulting ceiling and the leaf-dappled rectangles of sunlight cast on the opposite wall were unfamiliar, Kyn felt a sudden, shocking pang of homesickness. Placing his hand flat against the smooth, polished stone to his side, he closed his eyes and inhaled.
The scent was subtly off. Deserted as it was, the hall still held the memory of recent use, a shift of air currents that bore the sound and warmth of the outside world, carried with the passage of servants and guards. The chill was the same though, the heat leeched inexorably from his hand by the sandstone and crude marble. The silent, patient air of sleeping things was the same. If it weren't for the slight movement of air in the groined reaches above, he might have fooled himself into believing he was back home.
Home, he thought bitterly, opening his eyes and dropping his hand from the wall. Why are my memories all of the manse, and not here? Why am I always reminded of a place leagues from here rather than this place itself?
"Misplaced, weren't we?"
Kyn sucked in a sharp breath, whirling around to meet the, for once, sober face of the baron, Tarrin. Shivering once to dispel the adrenaline-induced tightness from his muscles, he said as calmly as he could, "Merely misinformed. I believe I took a wrong turn at - "
Tarrin held up a finger to his lips, and Kyn fell silent, taken aback by the gesture. Smiling slightly, the baron walked past Kyn, passing by one window, the painting that hung by it, another window, and stopping before the second portrait. "That was not what I meant." Clasping his hands behind his back, he looked toward Kyn expectantly.
Kyn felt the tension creeping back in as he watched the lord's actions, and he had a brief thought of simply refusing the strange confrontation. But the urge to retreat was subsumed by the expectation of what he might be able to learn and the fear of missing something important. "My lord?" he questioned as he approached, stopping just out of reach.
"You need not call me that," Tarrin said, reaching out to take Kyn's shoulder, but changing the gesture into an invitation to stand beside him when Kyn leaned away from the touch. "In truth, you should not call me that."
This time, Kyn shivered, not because of residual startlement, but out of dread. "I...do not understand."
Tarrin's mouth curved in an amused smile. "I think you do. All too well." Nodding toward the portrait which Kyn had yet to allow himself to see, he added, "There is no need to pretend. Not with me."
A reflexive protest rose in Kyn's throat, but was never voiced as he finally raised his eyes to the larger than life-sized painting. Three people stared out of it at some unknown point over his shoulder; one man and two youths seated before him.
The duke was obvious in his formal raiment; a large-framed man with a clean-shaven face and a rich autumn mane that sat indeterminate between auburn and brown. Pulled back to a tail at the base of his skull, it left his face unfettered, gray-green gaze direct and challenging. Ignominiously, a smattering of freckles capered across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, surprisingly few considering a complexion that would show only the barest shadings from the sun, but nevertheless present. His features, though not given to mirth, were not cruel, and held a certain confidence that bespoke of challenges met and overcome.
"The artist had a prodigious talent," Tarrin commented as Kyn's attention strayed to the elder of the two boys. "His bloodline has painted the families of Lynxfinn's lords for five generations, and I can assure you, the likeness...is truly remarkable."
Something in the baron's voice made Kyn look sharply toward the man, and he swallowed thickly when he found Tarrin staring intently at him.
"...is truly remarkable," a platinum-blond haired man said, an avid curiosity in glass-green eyes...
The vision. Or more correctly, the fraction of a vision that he had glimpsed during his last experiment with his Gift while under Nadia's watch back at the collegium. No wonder the man had seemed so familiar. "Truly...remarkable," was all he could muster in a voice become dry and thin as he looked quickly away and stared at the youth that should have been duke in Se'Fannouel's place.
Vinsenail Mrr'Thaine was more slender than his sire, though he had inherited his father's coloring. His hair, pulled back in imitation of the duke's, held more red than brown. On his face was scrawled a bright, unrestrained smile...and despite how utterly alien the expression would have looked on him, Kyn had no problems imagining his own features arranged in such a configuration, as closely as they resembled each other.
"He had a very compassionate soul," Tarrin continued quietly, sliding a step closer until Kyn could almost feel the heat from the man's body just behind his left shoulder. "It seemed as if there was nobody he couldn't empathize with, nobody who could resist his charms. He was the kind of leader that was loved by his people. It was fortunate that he was not a spoiled child - not spoiled, and that he was not an only child."
As if prompted, Kyn's eyes slid toward the other youth in the painting...and he stared mesmerized at the younger, whole, unblemished visage of Master.
"Jendail had more than enough arrogance for the both of them." A thread of amusement entered Tarrin's voice as it lowered to a more intimate, private tone. "Some had even mistaken him for the heir apparent rather than his older sibling. But he had a streak of pragmaticism and cunning that would have put the headmasters of the merchant guilds to shame. He balanced his brother's sometimes overly affectionate nature well.
"And though you have Vinsen and his wife's features, Kynfaellar Mrr'Thaineson - in your mannerisms? It is Jenner that you bring to my mind."
Well, as you can see, this is supposed to be just a continuation of the last, really short snippet I uploaded. (Although, I don't know if it really matters anymore, since I've played merry hell with the way all the chapters are organized.) Anyway, on a slightly off-tune note, I've reopened my website with a different look. =) Feel free to visit, and drop a note into the guestbook if you're in the mood. Though I don't have much fiction up there right now, in the future, a rewritten Words Between (some fine-tuning as well as possibly some extra scenes sandwiched in between to do some more fleshing out) and other fiction that might or might not make it onto fanfiction.net will be moseying its way into those pages.
M'cha Araem - Glad to see you're still around and kicking! I was beginning to wonder if I had badly slipped up with the last chapter when you metaphorically disappeared. =) And thank you so much for all your close readings and suggestions; please, do NOT stop! I'm afraid I don't have my originals handy right now to do the edits (not to mention I'm completely wasted after a 3 hour night) but I do agree with most, if not all, of your notes (can't process it all right now...need sleep). Most were honest mistakes which I'm glad someone caught, and others were stuff that I truly overshot. The other chapters will be edited by tomorrow. =) *laughs* And, once again, you're right on the money with the characterization of the, er, characters. Ok, I'm recycling words again, I really need to go to bed...
Soulshadow - Thank you! laughs If I ever need an ego-boost, mind if I call you up? =P
ola - a·cer·bic (-sûrbk) also a·cerb (-sûrb) adj. 1. Sour or bitter tasting; acid. See Synonyms at bitter. 2. Sharp or biting, as in character or expression: "At times, the playwright allows an acerbic tone to pierce through otherwise arid or flowery prose" (Alvin Klein). a·cerbi·cal·ly adv. Only for you would I look up a word and go through the laborious process of reformatting it for display on fanfiction.net. =P
SCWLC - And I can't thank you enough for reminding me of it. Beyond the fact that my ego loves you, but it does help me to gauge how successfully I'm writing Kyn. =) As for the rant, I hope I have staved off another one in the near future with this installment? =P
Trina Ti - Thank you, and welcome aboard! =) grins Don't you just hate logic?
Cosette Crystalline - Heheeh...they all do seem very blase about the existence of Gifts and whatnot, yes? ;) Thank you so much for such a glowing review, and *eep*! I hope your work wasn't impeded too much. Regardless of my own misconduct in school (and the repeated complaints I've been receiving about how my updates are keeping people from work), I would hate to see other people losing sleep on assignments when they don't have to. =P I hope the essay went well, and this time, you have an entire weekend to lay back and enjoy this chapter.