The God-Touched Man Page 8

  A mile later, Lady Sethemba steered the horse off the verge and slid down awkwardly. “Proceed,” she said.

  Hodestis reached into his coat and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, which turned out to be a map. He spread it on the ground and crouched beside it. “Epiria sepera,” he said, rubbing the fingers of his right hand together across its surface as if sprinkling salt over it.

  “I have seen this before,” Piercy said. He pulled out his epiria lens, a silver quizzing glass that had been a gift from Evon two birthdays ago. “Epiria reveals hidden things, such as magic bound up in spells. It is one of the few spells a non-magician like myself can manage.”

  “It’s a common spell with many uses. Now.” Hodestis removed a fountain pen from within his coat—with all the wonders emerging from it, perhaps it was magic itself—and uncapped it. It was no ordinary fountain pen; it had several buttons and a lever on one side. “My own devising,” Hodestis said with a smile when he saw Piercy’s interest. He seemed completely unmoved by Lady Sethemba and her knife, standing close behind him.

  Hodestis worked the lever and let a tiny bead of ink fall onto the map. Just before it touched the paper, the magician said, “Reperto Atheron Hodestis.”

  The bead landed on the map, but instead of soaking into the paper it quivered, lying atop it as if the surface were oiled. Then it rolled across the map, twitching in several directions, until it reached a spot somewhat north of Rainoth, where it popped, making a hundred tiny curves centered on one spot. “Is that where we are?” Lady Sethemba said, her animosity temporarily forgotten.

  “It is,” said Hodestis. “One more spell.” He squatted on the ground beside the map, drew a relatively straight line between the spot and Rainoth, and put the pen away. He then traced the line with his fingertip, saying “Lenquati,” and a thin green line of glistening ink sprang up where his finger had been. When he reached Rainoth, the line shimmered briefly with a flash of rainbow colors, contracted, and twisted itself into the number 31.

  “Thirty-one miles. More than a day’s walk,” Piercy said.

  “But that’s not fast enough! We need to be in Rainoth by tonight!” Hodestis stood and started to walk away, but Piercy grabbed his shoulder and brought him to an abrupt halt.

  “I think it is time for you to be more specific about your intentions,” he said. “You said the artifact would be destroyed in eight days. What happens in eight days?”

  “I’ll tell you, but we have to keep moving. We can’t afford any delay.” He pulled away from Piercy’s grip and set off rapidly down the road. Piercy began to protest, realized the magician couldn’t get very far on his own, and gave up.

  Lady Sethemba was already trying to mount the horse. She kicked her skirt out of the way, tried to hoist herself up the way one would if one were wearing trousers, and slid back to the ground. She tried again, cursing, with the same result. Piercy went to her and said, “Please allow me to assist you.”

  “I don’t need your help, Mr. Faranter,” she snarled.

  “My mistake. It must be some other woman whose attempts at mounting have caused the horse to consider fleeing into the wilderness, with or without her attached.”

  Lady Sethemba leaned her forehead against the animal. “Mr. Faranter,” she said finally, “I would appreciate your…assistance…in mounting.”

  Her voice seethed with barely controlled anger and, he thought, embarrassment, but Piercy ignored it and helped her into the saddle. “I think we should procure you a change of clothing soon,” he said. “That dress was not designed with a woman like you in mind.”

  “And what sort of woman is that?”

  Looking down at him from her seat atop the horse’s back, with her masses of thin braids falling down in back and her head held high, she looked every inch the princess she’d pretended to be. For a moment, Piercy couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t infuriate her—beautiful, maddening, elegant, imperious, extraordinary. “Magnificent,” he finally said, and braced himself for an outpouring of scorn. Instead, her angry expression faded, replaced with a look of puzzlement, as if he’d handed her a gift she didn’t understand. She tugged on the reins, and the horse set off along the road toward Rainoth, rapidly enough that Piercy had to jog to keep up. He should have seen about finagling horses for all three of them, never mind what Hodestis had said about the village’s resources.

  He trudged on, hoping the rain would hold off until they could find shelter. His boots were already pinching his feet—if he’d known he was going to be dragged into the past by an obsessed magician, he’d have chosen more wisely—and his coat was going to be little protection against any amount of rain, but all he could think about was the puzzled look on Ayane Sethemba’s lovely face. He recalled kissing her, this time with regret instead of embarrassment, then dismissed the thought. The woman he’d kissed that night didn’t exist, was a product of Lady Sethemba’s need to deceive him, and he was a fool to dwell on it.

  He looked ahead, at her upright back—that was probably a product of her fear of falling off the uncomfortable saddle—and considered what he knew of the real woman: a skilled fighter and excellent spy, proud, independent, prickly, but with a sense of humor she kept well-hidden and a fierce loyalty to her country. She was easily the most interesting woman he’d ever known, even if she did insult and embarrass him whenever possible. He thought I ought to court her in earnest and was immediately disgusted with himself. She didn’t deserve to be the focus of his usual flirtation.

  No, what he wanted was to meet the woman beneath the prickly exterior, because he had a feeling she was worth knowing. Of course, there was the little difficulty of her despising him, but Piercy Faranter had years of experience in making friends out of enemies, even before he’d become legendary at swaying the fairer sex, and while he had no intent of coercing her friendship, he was confident he could at least make her stop thinking of him as her enemy. A little over a day to Rainoth; who knew what might happen in a day?

  He put on a final burst of speed that brought him to Hodestis’s side. “Talk, then,” he said. “Where are we going, and why do we have to arrive there before eight days are passed?”

  Hodestis was breathing heavily, but he said, “What do you know about the Welkennar Incursion of 796?”

  “Possibly more than you do. A kinship band of rogue Welkennish warriors came through one of the passes over the Handan Mountains and swept all the way to Rainoth before being defeated, looting and raping their merry way across the countryside. I take it that has something to do with your quest?”

  “The Yanceter Monastery was one of the first places razed by the Welkennish. We have to reach it before that happens.”

  “What are you looking for?” Lady Sethemba said.

  “A necklace,” Hodestis said. “Crafted by a great magician centuries ago. The ascetics at Yanceter Monastery have had it in their care for the last fifty years.”

  “Then that is where we are going.”

  “Yes.”

  “I take it simply asking for it is impossible.”

  “Of course. They take their charge very seriously. They wouldn’t give it to the king himself if he asked.”

  “In this era, Dalanine has a queen. You actually intend to desecrate a holy place of the God Cath?”

  “Not desecrate. I’m going to protect one of Cath’s own treasures and deliver it to the temple in Belicath when I’m finished with it. I believe Cath will look favorably on my actions.”

  “That is so foolhardy it might just work.” Piercy shook his head. The little man was convincing, for a madman. “We should warn the monastery so they can defend themselves.”

  Hodestis stopped and rounded on Piercy. “No,” he said, his voice high and intense. “If the monastery survives, the necklace will not disappear from history, and it will exist into the future, and I will have no chance at all.” He took a deep breath, and added, more calmly, “And they wouldn’t listen to us in any case. Would you? Three scruffy
pilgrims show up on their doorstep, claiming to be from the future and warning of a coming disaster? The Welkennar Incursion was a complete surprise, with the invaders attacking when Dalanine was at peace with their country. The idea will be ludicrous to them.”

  “But if we can prevent—”

  “It doesn’t work that way, Mr. Faranter. I can’t explain the ways time interacts with itself. You just have to take my word for it that it’s impossible.” He turned and trudged onward, more rapidly this time, not waiting to see if Piercy would follow.

  “I don’t like it,” Lady Sethemba said in Santerran.

  “Don’t like what? The fact that we are colluding by inaction in the deaths of what may be more than a hundred men and women? Or his story that a magical item of such power is being kept on the edges of nowhere instead of in Belicath where it might benefit others?”

  “Both.” She sat even more upright in the saddle and stared after him. “He isn’t telling us everything.”

  “Would you? We have threatened to kill him, after all. It makes sense that he would keep back information as a hedge against that event.”

  “That’s not a good strategy.”

  “You and I know that, but Mr. Hodestis does not strike me as primarily motivated by rationality. And I think we should catch him up, just in case.”

  A light rain began falling just after noon, and they stopped to take what little shelter there was under the trees and ate apples and dried meat in silence. The horse was placid, nipping at the grass with every appearance of contentment, but Piercy assessed its size and concluded it was going to need more food than was provided by the scant ground cover. With luck, they’d find another village, or even a farmhouse, where they could purchase what they needed. Then he remembered his lack of acceptable funds, and groaned inwardly. They were entirely unprepared for this adventure.

  “How do you intend to retrieve the necklace?” he asked, more to distract himself than out of any real interest.

  “I’ll pretend to be a traveler in need of shelter for the night. The monasteries of Cath aren’t allowed to turn away anyone in need. Then, when they’re all asleep, I’ll take the necklace and leave.”

  “That is a stupid plan,” Lady Sethemba said. She was huddled into the folds of her cloak and looked as irritable as she sounded.

  “It’s not stupid,” Hodestis said in an injured tone. “I thought it out very carefully.”

  “Do you know where the necklace is kept within the monastery?” Piercy said.

  “Not really. But there can’t be many places it could be.”

  “The sanctuary, the offertory, any number of storage rooms, possibly one of the ascetics’ personal chambers, and I have no idea where else. The longer you have to search, the greater the chance you will be detected. And suppose it is kept somewhere behind locked doors? Have you a way to penetrate such?”

  “Frigo is usually enough to break a lock.”

  “And it is also remarkably loud. You might acquire the necklace only to be captured and lose it again.”

  “The ascetics of Cath’s order keep vigil through the night. It is the God’s time,” Lady Sethemba said. “You will not be able to move as freely as you seem to believe.”

  Hodestis scowled at them. “All right, what would you suggest? If my plan’s so stupid.”

  “I hardly think it is our responsibility to plot on your behalf. This is your mad quest. We are simply your unwilling audience.”

  “If I can’t get the necklace, we’re not going back.” Hodestis crossed his arms over his spindly chest. “I’ll have to work out who steals it and take it from him. That’s going to be even more dangerous. It’s in your best interests to help me.”

  Piercy and Lady Sethemba exchanged glances. “If you had not been so foolhardy, we would not now be in this place,” Lady Sethemba said.

  “And if you had not shed my company so enthusiastically at the zoological gardens, we would neither of us have been close enough for foolhardiness,” Piercy shot back. “Mr. Hodestis has what is unfortunately an excellent argument.”

  Lady Sethemba snorted, an indelicate sound at odds with her elegant face. “The first step is to arrive in the daytime,” she said. “Most of the ascetics sleep during the day, and the ones who do not sleep pray in the soul-gardens. But Mr. Hodestis is correct that they are not allowed to turn away anyone in need, and they pay a high price if they do so.”

  “You seem remarkably well-informed about the monastic worship of Cath.”

  “I took shelter in a monastery four years ago when I was chased by pales in the jungles. The ascetics refused entrance to them to prevent me being discovered. It was…” Lady Sethemba’s eyes were focused on the far distance; her lips were compressed as if against a strong emotion. “That does not matter now,” she said. “Enough to say they will not turn us away, even if it is in the daytime hours.”

  “So we can gain access,” Piercy said. “What else do you know?”

  “Cath’s monasteries are all built in the same pattern.” She broke a long twig from one of the branches sheltering them, causing a spray of drops to spatter her head, and crouched to draw a pattern on the ground. “A center where the sanctum is. Five corridors that go out from it and are linked to each other by other corridors. It makes a five-armed star surrounded by…I cannot remember the word.”

  “A pentagon,” Piercy said, reaching out to trace the shape with his finger.

  “Yes. The spaces between the arms are made to represent the five Death-Lands, and the ascetics go to those soul-gardens to pray for the dead, except the space of the Maelstrom, where the most secret rituals are done. You can see all but that space from the arms…they have windows. Then the sides of the pentagon are where the ascetics live and eat and do other ordinary things.”

  “Can you guess where the necklace might be kept?”

  “Possibly the sanctum, or the prime might keep it in his or her quarters. But it is also likely to be here.” She tapped the circle from which the arms radiated, then shook her head. “Not the sanctum. There is a smaller second floor where the prime and the members of his council meet. They—the ascetics who sheltered me—they would not speak of it except to say it is the most sacred and protects what they treasure. If they know how valuable the necklace is, they might consider it something of that kind.”

  “That has a great many possibilities,” Piercy said, “depending on how the room is accessed. It might simply be a matter of evading whomever is still awake.”

  “Unless there is a guard on the room.”

  “Which would mean creating a distraction that would draw everyone away. A fire? No, too dangerous, and while we are required—” he glared at Hodestis, who looked away—“to allow these men and women to die, I refuse to let their death be directly at our hands.”

  “Suppose we set a fire large enough to destroy much of the monastery, forcing them to evacuate? They would go to Rainoth and be out of the way when the invaders come.” Lady Sethemba stood and regarded her drawing. “We might achieve both our purposes at once.”

  “That is a compelling plan, but I think…it is rather more dangerous than I like. Suppose we were trapped within? I like even less the thought of losing my life to this mad scheme.”

  “I suppose.” Lady Sethemba looked disappointed. Piercy could easily picture her leading a desperate, foolhardy raid on some satrap’s castle, or whatever it was the satraps had lived in. “So…a convincing distraction, sneak past whoever is not fooled, steal the necklace and retreat. We will need a reason to shelter at the monastery if it is not night.”

  “Illness,” Piercy said. “I know little of magic, but vertiri can cause changes to the body, so is it not possible, master magician, to induce illness in someone in a way that is not life-threatening?”

  “So you’ll do it?” Hodestis asked eagerly.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You said ‘we.’ Both of you did. Doesn’t that mean you’re going to help? Because your plan i
s much better than mine, but it sounds like it needs at least three people. So will you help?”

  Piercy and Lady Sethemba again looked at one another. She shrugged, and said, “I think we have joined forces with him, Mr. Faranter.”

  “Then why do I feel as if I have been cornered by a lap dog and induced to take him for a walk with myself attached to the leash?” Piercy said.

  “No leash,” Hodestis said quickly. “I’ll even make myself sick instead of one of you. I can cure myself when it’s all over, so long as I’m careful about the illness.”

  “Very well,” Piercy said. “So long as it returns us to our own time, I have no objections.” He still didn’t like the idea of allowing the monastery to be destroyed, but he liked even less tampering with history—or the present, according to Hodestis—when he had absolutely no idea what it would affect. “But we cannot simply walk toward the mountains until we reach our destination. It will take far too long. Why could you not have opened a portal to an earlier time, so you could approach at your leisure?”

  “Because if the ascetics found out the necklace was stolen, it would have been in the records, and I would have had to learn who stole it and steal it from him.”

  “But you would have been the one to steal it.”

  Hodestis let out an exasperated noise. “I told you you wouldn’t understand how it works,” he said. “I promise you this is the only way I could manage it. I have to arrive just before the monastery is destroyed and the necklace looted from it so there is no time for the ascetics to find out the truth. It’s why we have to hurry.”

  “Hurrying will do us no good if we have no money to purchase supplies. I think we should not trade on your appearance again, my lady. There is still a risk it will work against us.”

  “I cannot change the color of my skin, Mr. Faranter.” Lady Sethemba sounded irritable again. “And it will be difficult to conceal my face if we are in close quarters with anyone.”

  “I could probably come up with a spell—”