From that moment it was not long until they discovered my parentage¾or should it be motherage.
Strange, I had not thought of that before. I knew that Talents were inherited, that they might be traced both from the female and male parent, but even when I had heard that I was Mavin’s son, I had had no curiosity about my father. It was, even when I thought of it, only a passing thought, and that was much later. As soon as Himaggery was told of it, he sent an Elator to Mertyn, begging him to travel to the Bright Demesne. He broke the rules in doing so. Elators do not, by the rules, carry messages from one Demesne to another. That is left to Heralds or, on occasion, Ambassadors. Though none of us knew it, it was fortunate Himaggery held the rules so in contempt. Mandor’s own Heralds were even then on the road to Schooltown.
They arrived to find Mertyn gone. He had taken a swift ship from Schooltown to sail across the Gathered Waters and down the Middle River to Lake Yost. He had not left word with any in Mertyn’s House where he had gone. Himaggery’s Elator, who had set Mertyn on the road, offered no help to Mandor’s Heralds, who had no choice but to take lodging in Schooltown and await Mertyn’s return. Eventually they gave up and returned to Bannerwell to face Mandor’s wrath. The day they returned was a day I do not wish to remember.
Meantime, each day Himaggery would seek out Windlow, who sat in his pleasant rooms over the garden reading my book, to ask him what should be done next. The old man would close his wrinkly eyes and lean back against the side of the window, the sun falling sweetly on his face in quiet warmth, the mists drifting up and away as they always did, and invoke a long silence during which he searched for Seeings. Then at last he would open his eyes and say what he could.
On one day it was, “Peter is not in immediate danger, Himaggery. However, he is desperate, and very lonely, and without hope.”
Silkhands was in the room. She said at once, “We must go to him. Now. While the rest of you figure out what it is you will do…” Himaggery began to object, but was interrupted by the old man.
“No. Don’t forbid her, Himaggery. That may be a very good idea. Healers are generally respected, almost always safe. If she goes with Yarrel and Chance¾a Healer riding with two servants? Can you pretend to be servants?” He asked it of Yarrel, knowing Yarrel’s pride.
“I can’t pretend,” said Yarrel. “I can be.” And he bowed before Silkhands as though he were her groom. “If Silkhands will learn her part.”
“Oh, I will do,” she pledged.
So, the three of them set out for Bannerwell, not over the high passes of the Hidamans, as I had come there, but up the western side of Middle River and then along the foothills west in the valley of the Banner itself. Before they left, Himaggery took Yarrel aside and told him of other Seeings which Windlow had had recently.
“There is to be a Grand Demesne, lad. A great Game. Silkhands must not know of it, for they will Read her in Bannerwell. They will not bother you or Chance. Pawns are not considered in such matters. But you must know, in order to plan …”
While those three left the Bright Demesne, Himaggery plotted and plotted again, and Mertyn sailed toward him, and Mandor raged, and I sat in the rocky cell and dreamed myself elsewhere or hoped I could die. All of us were thinking of me. No one was thinking of Dazzle.
She, however, returned from her errand to learn that Silkhands had come and gone, which threw Dazzle into a compelling fury. She was full of wrath, full of vengeance against all those she fancied had wronged her, with Borold offering a willing ear to all her fancies. Thus, in a quiet dark hour, Dazzle and Borold rode out on Silkhands’ trail. Perhaps they had murder in mind. Perhaps she feared what Himaggery would do if Silkhands were hurt directly and so plotted some more indirect revenge. No one knows now what she thought then, save only that she meant Silkhands no good.