Gallel's Heir

Chapter 4: Encounters

I feel you there beside me like shimmers of light.

-Anath shen Sorrel Albandor of Yambisey

"It shouldn't take eight years to get a war started!" said Tavaris. The rage of impatience erupted like volcanoes from his glaciered eyes. The Ball of Shadows that Minara held darkened and trembled.

She had thought he would be happier to have the war with Galia started. She shouldn't try to predict his moods. Shivering, she steeled herself to look into the Ball. "Tamil has never been popular with her Council. Even I couldn't induce them - most wouldn't even take me to their beds. Her son, Emick, is still a boy. He couldn't wear the Robe yet, anyway."

"Induce," said Tavaris with a smile. "To put under anesthesia. How fitting. So you failed with them. Most of the kels and sans on Tamil's Council saw Hallel's sign and think they have happy little lives. Not exactly the hearts of darkness that we can use. Why would they listen to you?"

Minara twisted her shoulders and her heart beat furiously. Most times, she could command a riot with a glance, but Tavaris made her giddy.

"The war started," he said, sighing. "What happened?"

"Tamil dismissed the troublesome members and chose a new Council, ones that hadn't seen the sign."

"Of course." One side of his lips twisted into a smirk. "What reason for war did she convince them to apply?"

"Conquest is the best way to spread your religion, and take gold. Turbia needs more to support the building of your sanctuaries. We found new kels and sans for the council who want authority."

"Doesn't everyone of reason?"

Minara laughed. "They each want their own keldom, where they can rule in perfection, with no squabbling in their underlings."

"That would be impossible until I rule supreme," said Tavaris.

"Let the best fight for superiority," she said. "They have no real concept of what perfection means. It will be amusing for us to watch."

"So it will."

"The ultimate prize will be for you," said Minara, "when Tamil puts her son in the Kel's Robe with me as his First San."

"And what of mages," he said, "to help send me into the world?"

"My followers will scour the countryside until we find enough. We'll keep a close eye on them until they're needed."

***

If Tutang's curtains hung open, and silver moonlight shimmered in pools on the bed, the experience could be - pleasant - in that it wasn't unpleasant. Tutang would be in a good mood, his wari clear, and she could almost reach... something. She could almost imagine that he loved her.

He would not be in a good mood after Turbia's attack.

Dylin pushed open Tutang's door; his drapes hung heavy and dark. She scowled and then shuddered. His shirt was already off and hair on his blubbery back showed in the light from the anteroom. She tucked herself next to him in his oversized bed, a bed large enough for five Tutangs, with bedposts thicker than she was. Perhaps on some nights, depending on whom he was with, he used the space.

He sprinkled powdered mountain oysters into his tea every morning because he thought that would increase his virility.

Galia was at war, the curtains hung heavy, and Tutang's anger sizzled. When he touched her, his wari stung like a hot, sour wind from a midden heap. Her wari went into him and disappeared, like drops of water on parched sand.