‘Yes,’ he said, nodding, ‘the beast has no perception of abstracts. How then do you control it?’
‘I cannot fully control it, Lord. It is wild and savage. It obeys me because it knows I can deny it existence, but it constantly seeks ways to overcome me.’
‘The spirit of the tiger remains alive?’
‘I believe so.’
‘Interesting.’ He fell silent and seemed lost in thought. Then he met her gaze. ‘Back in the city I sensed you reaching out and touching my mind. You recall this?’
She had waited for this moment, and knew it would be dangerous to offer a complete lie. ‘Yes, Lord. It was most mysterious. It was like flowing up from a deep sleep. Suddenly I heard distant voices, though I knew they were not real sounds.’
‘And this has not happened since?’
‘No, Lord.’
‘Let me know if it does.’
‘I will, Lord.’
‘You are doing well, Ustarte. We are all proud of you.’
‘Thank you, Lord. That is most pleasing to me.’
One day, as she strolled in semi-human form, she saw that the small postern gate was unlocked. She stood in the doorway gazing out upon the mountain path leading to the forest. Reaching out with her mind, she sensed the watchers close by, reading their thoughts. The door had been left open for her. Concentrating, she pushed her talent further. Five more guards were hidden behind the rocks some fifty paces from the postern gate. They were armed with spears and two held a strong net.
Ustarte turned away and walked back to the main exercise area.
As the months passed they trusted her more and more. She was used to assist in the training of others like herself. Prial was brought to the prison in chains. He was in his wolf form then, snapping and biting at the guards. Ustarte reached out with her talent, feeling his rage and terror. ‘Be calm,’ she whispered into his mind. ‘Be patient, for our time is coming.’
Waylander sat with the sleeping priestess for a while. Her breathing was even, but the gleam of perspiration on her face showed that her temperature was rising. Moving to the kitchen he filled a bowl with cool water and returned to her side. Taking a cloth he placed it in the water, squeezed out the excess liquid and laid it on her brow. She stirred and the golden eyes opened. ‘Feels good,’ she whispered. Gently he dabbed the cloth to her cheeks. She slept again.
Waylander rose from the floor and stretched. Then he stood very still and listened. Walking swiftly to the window he drew the shutters closed, then stepped out through the door and into the sunshine, pulling closed the door behind him.
Eldicar Manushan and the page, Beric, were crossing the terrace garden and walking along the path to his apartments. The magicker was wearing a pale blue tunic shirt of glimmering silk. His legs were bare, and he wore no boots or shoes. His page was clad only in a loincloth, and he was carrying towels across his shoulder.
‘Good day to you, Dakeyras,’ said the magicker, with a broad smile.
‘And to you. Where are you heading?’
‘To the beach. Beric has become fond of it.’
The blond page looked up at his uncle and grinned. ‘The water is very cold,’ he said.
‘You have taken a wrong turn,’ said Waylander. ‘Go back to the tall yellow rose and turn right. The steps there will take you to the sea.’
Eldicar Manushan glanced at the rough-cut walls of Waylander’s apartments. ‘I understand you live here,’ he said. ‘You are a most curious man. You build a palace of great style and beauty and yet live in little more than a cave on a cliff wall. Why is that?’
‘I sometimes ask myself the same question,’ said Waylander.
‘Can we go to the sea now, Uncle?’ put in the boy. ‘It is getting very hot.’
‘You go down, Beric. I will join you presently.’
‘Don’t be long,’ said the child, running back down the path.
‘The young have such energy,’ observed Eldicar Manushan, moving into the shade of a flowering tree and seating himself on a rock.