Dave Duncan – Emperor and Clown – A Man of his Word. Book 4

“My men already did.” Kar spun on his heel and strode out, his spurs jingling. His flunkies followed.

Thinal grinned and cocked a final snoot at his back. Rap frowned.

“Well!” Kadolan said, annoyed to find that her heart was beating faster than was seemly. “I thank you, Master Rap. Your powers are a welcome reinforcement in Arakkaran!”

The youth smiled faintly, but he was still keeping his true feelings masked.

“Perhaps,” she suggested, “we should now compare notes and make some plans?”

He nodded. “First I must escort Thinal down to the gates and see him safely on his way. It would not be fair to keep Gathmor in suspense any longer.”

“Gathmor?”

“Another friend. A good friend. A sailor. You saw him once.”

“I did?” The conversation was already slipping away from the path she had planned.

“In the magic casement. He was the third man present when Sagorn and I met the dragon.”

Gods! “The prophecy was fulfilled?”

“The first one . . .” The faun frowned suddenly. Looking very uneasy, he added, “And now I suspect that makes the other two inevitable.”

A duel with the infamous Kalkor? Torture in the goblin lodge? Horror-struck, she said, “Surely not! Why?”

“Because obviously the casement was working correctly. Why did I not see that earlier?” He shook his head, puzzled. “Some things are very clear to me now, things I never knew before.”

“The words bring wisdom?” She took a shaky sip of coffee. ”Then perhaps you can explain something that is puzzling me, Master Rap. My word of power never seemed to make much different to me, nor to my sister-in-law, when she was alive. I assumed that it had very little strength, as it were . . . that it had been diluted in the remote past by too many sharings, or that it was wearing out. Yet it’has produced extraordinary abilities in you. Surely you were not capable of all this yesterday?”

Again he shook his head, his gray eyes unreadable. After a moment he said, ”I do know more about that! It . . . it isn’t easy to explain.”

“Oh, we have lots of time.”

“We don’t, not at the moment. But it isn’t that. I mean, I feel a strong urge not to talk about such things. The words are secretive by nature.” He glanced at Thinal’s ratty eyes. “This must be why nosy mundanes like Sagorn have so much trouble finding out!”

The thief nodded and smirked.

“I’ll try, though.” Rap took a deep breath. “There seem to be three things involved, ma’am. First, of course, is the mere number of words. One makes a genius, two an adept. Then mage and sorcerer. All are different. Rarely a genius will have occult power, as I did, but not often—and so on. The number of words is important in itself. Everyone knows that.”

“Like the number of wheels on a coach.”

“Yes! A wheelbarrow, or a chaise, or . . .” He smiled his diffident little smile. “I don’t know anything with three wheel! Or a wagon—all different. But the number of words matters most. My farsight, for instance, is much stronger than it was, but mainly I have skills now that I never had before. Mage skills. And then the words themselves can be weakened by sharing. We knew that.”

“I’m not as good as I was,” Thinal muttered, looking resentful.

“You’re still the best!” Rap said quickly. He wiped his forehead, as if feeling a strain. “That sort of comparison is all right when you compare one person’s power before he tells a word, or after he gets more of the same word . . . but it doesn’t mean much when you compare one person with another. What’s more important then is . . . the third thing . . . I never realized . . .” He paused.

“What third thing?” Thinal demanded.

“It’s a sort of native talent.” Rap stared unseeing for a moment, a young man wrestling with great problems. “When I was only an adept I could feel the ripples. Lith’rian didn’t like that!”

“Ripples?” Kadolan said, confused. Did he mean Warlock Lith’rian?

“It’s like a vibration. The world shimmers. I thought I was going to shake my own teeth out making that ladder. I expect I’ll develop a gentler touch, when I’ve had some practice. Hope sot I can’t tell within the palace, but I think I could sense sorcery a great way off now.”

“Sheik Elkarath is a mage, and he said he couldn’t. Not at all, he said.”

Rap nodded, then slumped back in his chair, breathing hard. “Then I’m better than him. It may be our words, but more likely, it’s this third thing—us, ourselves. I’m just more . . . responsive. That’s the way I see it.”

Some people had innate musical ability and could learn to sing, or play any instrument they chose. Others, like Kadolan herself, had a stone ear for music. So this nondescript stableboy had another sort of inborn ability, a gift for magic, something she did not. She felt mildly resentful about that. It explained Inos, though. Perhaps Inos had no gift at all, or very little, so her word of power was of no use to her. That seemed most unfair! And there were the tales of the legendary great warlocks of the past, the Thraine—who had left no notable successor, so far as she could recall.

She wondered why the servants were not coming to clear the table, and realized that the faun might be keeping them away.

Then he roused himself and glanced inquiringly at the imp, as if ready to leave.

“What about Inos?” Kadolan said quickly.

Rap leaned back and studied her unwinkingly. “What about her?”

“Her accident. The burns?”

He nodded glumly. “I was responsible for that, I suppose, in that I killed the sorceress. If I can find Inos, I shall try to repair the damage. The curse on the sultan must be a sorcery, though, and I can’t do anything about that.”

“And her marriage?”

“What about her marriage?” the faun asked coldly. Suddenly concerned, Kadolan said, “It was all a terrible mistake!”

His face was so infuriatingly wooden!

Rap said, “I asked her if she had married of her own free will. She said she had. She was not lying, ma’am! I can detect lies; I could even then. It was her choice.”

“But . . . But . . . But she thought you were dead! She had seen your ghost, she thought!”

He shivered, very slightly. “And I saw her . . . But she knew I was alive when I asked the question.” A trace of pain showed, and vanished again. ”Has Inos ever said she loved me?”

Probably her face was telling him no before she could open her mouth. ”Well, she spoke often of your childhood. She was very upset by your death.”

“And she was very angry at me for interrupting her wedding.”

This was awful! “Of course Inos was upset! It was a disaster! She had not had time to think, to remember the God’s words, to work out the implications.”

He did not comment, just looked at her.

“Free will is a nebulous term, Master Rap! Under the circumstances, she had no real choice but to marry the sultan. It is often easier to lie to oneself than to admit unpleasant truths.”

“She did not lie to me, ma’am. I am certain of that.” Horrors! This was not at all what Kadolan had expected!

“And she stayed silent when the sultan ordered me thrown in jail.”

“That was for your good!” Thinal guffawed.

“I mean,” Kadolan said stiffly, “he is insanely jealous! Anything she said would have only made him angrier.”

Rap shrugged, slightly.

God of Love!

“And you? How do you feel about her?”

“With respect, your Highness, that is not relevant.” Kade wrung her hands, searching for an argument, an excuse, an explanation.

“I beg you,. Master Rap! I beg you to rescue my niece from an inappropriate and unwanted marriage!”

“She is a married woman!” Rap exclaimed, shocked. “Your Highness, you cannot mean that!”

“You must see—”

“No I don’t! I won’t even consider it!” He set his jaw.

“You are being very difficult!”

“You are making improper suggestions.”

“But—”

“I won’t listen!”

“Stubbornness is not an attractive trait.”

“So Inos always told me.”

Thinal snickered. Doubtless he also was recalling what Sagorn had said about this mulish faun. Kadolan stopped drumming fingers on the table and composed herself. “I think you must ask her again . . . er . . . sir. About free will.”

Again he shrugged slightly, and again moved as if to rise.

“Now,” she said hastily, “Inosolan and the sultan have not long sailed. If we hurry down to the harbor—the three of us and your other friend, if you wish—then surely we can find a ship heading west? If money is a problem, I have some brooches and things I can sell. Then we can overtake them at the next port, or even chase them all the way to Qoble, if necessary.”

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