Raven's Strike (Raven #2)(58)

Chapter 9

Tier watched quietly as Phoran fell silent at last, leaning against one end of the table and watching the flames in the fireplace leap and crackle. He moved less like an overweight courtier and more like a fighter than he had when Tier had last seen him. He still carried extra weight that left his face softened, but there was muscle now under the padded shoulders of his velvet tunic.

"I notice Toarsen and Kissel are with you and not at Gerant," commented Tier.

He saw Toarsen hide a grin.

Phoran smiled. "I told them to find a few of the Emperor's Own who could be trusted, and they decided they trusted themselves the best. Gerant and Avar are keeping the rest of the Passerines... of the Emperor's Own busy while we're off running about."

The smile died and he walked to the fireplace, bracing himself on the mantel. "I've come here," he said in a low voice, "hoping that you can save me again."

"I don't know much about Memories," said Tier. "Seraph might be more help, and Lehr is riding to find Brewydd tomorrow morning."

"Who is Brewydd?" asked Toarsen.

"The healer from the Traveling clan that helped us with the Path," explained Tier.

"The old woman?"

Tier nodded. "They left us before we got quite this far. It might take Lehr a couple of days to find them." He thought a moment. "Brewydd told us the Memory would leave when it had its vengeance. Maybe it doesn't feel its vengeance has been fulfilled yet."

"The wizard who escaped," said Phoran.

Tier nodded. "The Shadowed." Tier had told the Emperor about their suspicions before he'd left Taela, but Toarsen started at the name. "We're not happy about his escaping either. If that's what's keeping the Memory around, then maybe we can help. We've been looking for him ourselves."

"The Shadowed?" asked Toarsen harshly. "He was killed a long time ago."

"Not the same Shadowed," said Seraph, her voice husky with fatigue. "Not the Nameless King. This is another wizard who found a way to tap into the power of the Stalker. He doesn't seemed to have amassed the same kind of power yet - and we don't know why."

"You're certain there is another Shadowed?" asked Phoran.

Tier nodded, but he didn't tell the Emperor their certainty was based mostly upon the word of Ellevanal. Somehow he thought Phoran would find it more believable if Tier didn't explain too much.

"What is the Stalker?" asked Toarsen.

"The guilt of the Travelers," she said. "Though I'd ask you to keep it to yourself. A very long time ago, before there were Travelers, there was a city of wizardry, where mages collected to learn from each other and from the library there. They were an arrogant bunch, trusting to their great power to save them when they delved into things best not touched."

"They created something," said Lehr. "Something that all of their power and learning could not control. So the wizards sacrificed the city and everyone in it, except for themselves, and bound the Stalker. Then, knowing that the bindings were imperfect, the surviving wizards vowed to fight the damage it could still do. They became the Travelers - and the Shadowed is one of the things they fight."

Phoran rubbed his face, and Tier could see the fatigue that bore down upon him. "So we have to kill this Shadowed in order to rid me of the Memory?"

Tier shrugged. "I don't know for certain. Have you asked the Memory?"

"It hasn't shown up since it killed my attackers."

"It's not feeding from you?" asked Seraph, straightening. "That's dangerous, Phoran. If it's still bound to you and quits feeding, it will fade."

"That's good, though, isn't it?" asked Toarsen.

"It'll take the Emperor with it when it goes." Seraph's voice had a bite to it, but Toarsen didn't seem to mind.

"If it killed enough people, it wouldn't have to feed for a while. A mage might feed it for longer - and since the Masters were the ones who killed the Raven who spawned the Memory, that feeding might hold it longer than other people's death." Hennea's voice sounded calm and alert, with none of the fatigue that dragged at his wife's.

There was a rustle of her mattress, and Hennea emerged, her hair hanging in tangled skeins over her shoulders. It made her look nearer to Rinnie's age than Seraph's.

"Phoran, you remember Hennea," Tier said.

The Emperor nodded. "Of course. Raven."

"Your Highness," Hennea said, as composed as if she had been wearing court dress instead of a thin nightshirt. "Can you summon the Memory if you wish?" she asked.

"No." Phoran had tried to call it every way he could think of.

"Well enough," said Seraph. "It'll come eventually. Hennea, did you hear Phoran's story?"

Hennea nodded. "How much of this do your men know, Phoran?"

"Toarsen knows it all, of course, and Kissel," Phoran said. "I've told the others I've had a spell of some sort laid upon me by the Masters and you" - he swept his hand to include everyone in the room - "might be able to help me." His mouth tightened. "I don't dare trust them with the whole of it."

"It always surprised me that Rufort was recruited by the Path," said Tier. "I'd stake my life that he's as honorable as any man I've known."