Текст книги "The Darkling Child"

Автор книги: Terry Brooks

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Arcannen released the dead man’s head and stood up. That wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he would have liked, but killing seldom was. It was a task performed out of necessity, and while the act itself could be fulfilling, the aftermath seldom induced any sort of euphoria. It was so here. The sorcerer was already thinking beyond what he had just done to what still needed doing.

He pulled a length of cord from a pouch at his waist, tied one end tightly around Desset’s neck, and formed a loop at the other end. Then he shouldered the dead man, climbed atop the chair to gain the necessary height, and, after removing the lamp, slung the open loop over the ceiling hook and left Desset hanging.

Then he seated himself, printed a few words on a piece of paper, and attached them to Desset’s body. He studied his handiwork for a few moments more, watching the dead man swing gently from the ceiling hook as a breeze through the window caught his body in a twisting motion.

Now we will see, he thought.

Then he went out the door, down the stairs, and into the night.

It was shortly after dawn the following morning when Dallen Usurient, Commander of the Red Slash division of the Federation army, climbed those same stairs behind the officer who had summoned him and entered Desset’s quarters. Desset’s body still hung from the ceiling hook, lifeless and beginning to smell as the day’s heat reached it. Usurient saw the note pinned to the body right away and walked over for a look.

He read the note carefully and stepped back again, his face dark with anger.

“Do you know what it means, sir?” the officer who had summoned him asked quietly.

Usurient nodded. He knew exactly what it meant.

WE ARE COMING FOR YOU.

ARBROX.

He looked at the officer. “It means Arcannen is still alive.”

NINE

ARCANNEN, IN THE MEANWHILE, STOOD OUTSIDE A LARGE RESidential building that was colorful and ornate, its wooden siding and trim painted in soft pinks and greens. It sat on the outskirts of the village of Hennish, which was not far from the much larger city of Wayford where Arcannen had made his home until the Druids had driven him out. It was several hours after sunrise, and he had flown all night to get here. He’d had no sleep and he was tired, but his visit couldn’t wait.

He could see the girls moving about inside the pink-and-green building and hear their chatter and laughter. Some of them, at least, were up early. Perhaps they had chores. Perhaps suitors. Business would commence whenever a customer came calling, and assigned chores must be completed before then.

Yet this was not a pleasure house and these girls were not here to be used. This was the House of Rare Flowers. The sign over the veranda boldly declared it, and everyone who knew of its existence knew its purpose.

He watched awhile longer, readying himself for his encounter with Corussin, who was the proprietor of this establishment. They had done business before, and they knew each other well. They were friends, after a fashion. But both possessed strong personalities and harbored grand ambitions, and each wanted to feel in these business transactions that he had gotten the better of the other.

Arcannen could not see the guards, but he knew they were everywhere. Corussin was not the sort of man who took chances. It was easy enough to walk into the House of Rare Flowers, but if you broke the rules or did anything inappropriate while you were there, it wasn’t always so easy to walk out again.

Finally, Corussin stepped through the doorway onto the veranda and stood looking at him for a moment, hands on hips. The proprietor was a small, slender man, well groomed and finely dressed. His long black hair was an affectation he had embraced years ago, his tresses falling in waves to his waist. For a time, he had worn a beard, as well, but he appeared to have abandoned that.

After a moment, he beckoned Arcannen forward. Arcannen nodded and approached.

“Were you going to stand out here all day waiting for an invitation?” Corussin growled. “How long would you have lasted if I hadn’t seen you?”

The deepness of his voice always surprised the sorcerer. “I don’t like to arrive unannounced and give the impression I simply assume you have time for me,” he answered.

“Oh, I always have time for you, Arcannen. Though of late, you’ve been mostly absent. About five years now?”

“My fortunes took a downturn, as you’ve undoubtedly heard. But I have reason to think they might be on the upswing. Can we talk?”

Corussin took him through the front door of Rare Flowers and down a hallway to a quiet reception room at the back of the house. On the way, they passed several of the girls who lived there in the process of preparing for the day. Some were doing their assigned chores; some were dressing for suitors. Their purpose in coming to Rare Flowers and Corussin was simple. Each of them was looking to improve her situation through a display of beauty, intelligence, and marketable skills. Each gave herself over to the proprietor for the time it took to refine all three attributes, and then an employer/mate/sponsor was found who would take her to live with him under whatever arrangements the two of them had arrived at. The man lucky enough to win over one of these girls—and win her over he must, just as surely as she must work hard to present herself favorably—paid Corussin richly for the privilege of meeting the right girl. The money was paid up front, and it was non-refundable. If things didn’t work out, that was just too bad. This was a business transaction, first and foremost. Let the buyer beware.

But the buyer was given ample opportunity to decide if this was the right match, and the girl was given an equal amount of time to determine the same. It worked out more often than not.

Arcannen always thought it odd that all this couldn’t be achieved in a less complex and formalized fashion. But it was clear that, for many men, an arrangement of this sort was more attractive and reliable than simple courting. And for most of these girls, who came from dubious circumstances and less fortunate backgrounds, it offered a better-than-decent chance for living in a safe and sheltering environment.

The sorcerer and the proprietor sat in facing chairs by floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto an extensive garden. Several of the girls were walking the pathways with the groundskeeper, who was imparting his knowledge of his craft. Beyond, the high walls surrounding the garden kept curious sightseers at bay.

Anonymity was a large part of the advantage of placement and resettling at Rare Flowers. No one besides Corussin knew the identities of all the girls or the men. There were no open houses or visiting hours. No one who didn’t live here or come on business was allowed in. It was a tightly run operation, and it was this reputation that largely contributed to its success.

A stunning young woman with olive skin and ink-black hair hanging straight and long below her shoulders entered the room and bowed to Corussin.

“Evelin Emiko,” he greeted her, bowing back. “Something cold for my guest and myself. You remember Arcannen?”

Emiko bowed to him, and he returned the gesture of respect. Emiko had come to Rare Flowers almost ten years ago, and had decided she should stay on as the proprietor’s business partner and consort. Efficient and capable, she was the perfect companion for a man whose reputation and livelihood relied on discretion and satisfaction for all clients.

It didn’t hurt that the proprietor and Emiko were in love. And they were, desperately.

She left the room, her footfalls silent. “What is it you’re looking for, Arcannen?” Corussin asked, watching his life partner go.

The sorcerer smiled. He liked it that the other man never wasted time when business was involved. He always got right to the heart of the matter and didn’t pretend he didn’t know what the client had come for.

“I am looking for a girl,” he answered. “Not a young woman, but a girl. I need her to be no more than twenty years of age. She must be …” He paused, thinking. “Different looking. Unusual. She must be strong-minded and intelligent. More so than average. It would help if she had an innate sense of the appropriate and reasonable. She will be dealing with a very strong, very determined young man.”

Corussin smiled. “I don’t see this young man sitting next to you. You are not referring to yourself, are you?”

Arcannen laughed. “No. The young man in question doesn’t know anything about this.”

“Well, then. You know the policy, Arcannen. Your young man must undergo an interview to allow the girl to determine his suitability.”

“Perhaps that won’t be necessary here. Their relationship will be short-term, and it will not involve any sort of permanent commitment. The temporary appearance of the possibility will be sufficient. I will pay you double your usual price, and I will pay her the same amount for her trouble.”

The proprietor sighed. “What you are you up to? Because you have a plan in mind, clearly. Tell me something that will make me want to consider your offer more seriously.”

“The young man in question has the use of a very powerful form of magic. I want him to put himself in my hands. In order to make that happen, I need to give him a reason to do so. I intend to offer him something he wants. A girl. He may not know it, but he wants someone to love him. He wants someone to care about, to ground him, to give him a purpose in life. Any girl might suffice, but why settle for anything but the very best? So I have come to you.”

Emiko reappeared carrying a tray containing a pair of silver tankards. She offered the first to Arcannen and then moved over to Corussin with the second. As soon as the tray was empty, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

“So you intend to manipulate this nameless young man.” The proprietor steepled his fingers in front of him. “Which means you intend for the young girl you select to act on your behalf. Because she must, mustn’t she? So she must be clever and intuitive. As well as possessing the other attributes you listed. I imagine she needs to have a high opinion of herself, as well. She must be the sort of girl who will always put herself first so that her manipulation of this young man won’t trouble her.”

“But she must not put herself before me,” Arcannen added quickly. “Her interests must not come before mine. She must be prepared to do whatever I ask of her.”

“Well, she will have to determine if your interests conflict with her own, don’t you think? You can’t have her strong-willed and at the same time subservient, no matter how badly you might wish it.”

Arcannen nodded. “I can let her know up front what I expect. I can give her assurances of what I will not do that would cause her discomfort. That might help ease her concerns. But once I have set her the task I am employing her for, she cannot deviate from what is required to achieve it.”

Now it was Corussin’s turn to laugh. “You don’t ask for much, do you, Arcannen? Where do you think I am to find such a girl? Excuse me—young woman. Girls usually don’t have that sort of experience and maturity. Girls are manipulative, and it usually shows.”

Arcannen shrugged. “You are the purveyor of quality partners of the fair sex in business and life. You must have someone you can show me.”

“Yes. But I am already partnered with her, and she is too old for what you seek. A woman and not a girl. Let me think. Why don’t you take a walk in the garden while I consider?”

Arcannen rose and walked out through the garden doors as his host held them open for him. He sensed that Corussin had someone in mind already, but for one reason or another was not ready to reveal his choice. He would make Arcannen wait a bit first, perhaps allow him to think that finding what he wanted was much more difficult than expected and therefore deserving of a greater payment.

Arcannen moved over to a nearby bench and sat down. Off to one side, young women enraptured by the teachings of the groundskeeper were bending over a cluster of particularly beautiful bushes with bright crimson leaves and tiny purple berries. The voices of the young women were audible, but too soft to understand. He watched and listened to them until finally they moved on and disappeared from his view.

His gaze shifted to the majestic trees that grew along the far wall of the garden and just inside its walls. White oaks, he decided, perhaps two hundred years old. They were canopied over the extensive grounds beyond. Guards would be on patrol there, chasing off would-be tree and wall climbers, keeping the affairs of the residents of Rare Flowers private.

He allowed himself a moment to recall Arbrox, wishing that none of this were necessary, that the Red Slash and Usurient and Desset had found something else on which to focus their bloodthirsty urges. It would have made things so much easier if he could have remained in the village, a guest of the pirate community, until he was better prepared for a return to the larger world.

The day was sunny and bright, and the air sweet with the smells of flowers and grasses. A light breeze ruffled the plants and the leaves of the trees, and the sorcerer took a moment to close his eyes and breathe it all in.

When he opened them again, a young woman was standing a few yards away, looking at him. She did not attempt to shift her gaze when she realized he was looking back. She kept her eyes fixed on him as if he were the most interesting man she had ever seen. What struck him, besides the fact that she could make him feel that way, was how different she looked. Her hair was a strange toffee color streaked with gold so richly toned that it seemed to flow through her tresses like liquid. She had small, perfect features—the face of a child’s doll. She was tiny, but she had a presence to her even so. A deep green velvet dress, trimmed with silver thread on the cuffs, neckline, and hem, clung to her body, suggesting that she might be something ethereal.

Immediately he was struck by her.

Now, there is what I was talking about …

He left the thought unfinished. She was walking toward him, approaching with clear intent and a strong sense of self-confidence.

She came to a stop in front of him and smiled. “Hello.”

“Hello, young lady,” he answered.

“May I sit?”

He nodded and slid sideways a few inches. She moved to the bench and seated herself carefully, very close to but not touching him. He realized suddenly that his new companion was not a young woman after all, but exactly what her appearance had suggested—a young girl.

“I’m looking for a match,” the girl said, her eyes fixed on his face. “Not a match that would satisfy most women, but one that will satisfy me. I think you might be it.”

He smiled back. “What makes you say that? You know nothing about me at all. I might be here for any reason.”

“Let me test myself. Tell me if I am wrong in what I surmise. You are a sorcerer. You possess great power, but you use it sparingly. You are very smart, but not reckless. You are not happy with your life at the moment, but you think you might be able to change that soon.”

“Very good,” he admitted. “I congratulate you on your perceptiveness. But I am not looking to make a match.”

Her smile did not waver. “Perhaps you are and you don’t realize it. Most men don’t know what they need. Most men don’t even realize the depth of their need. They think of satisfying basic instincts that are shallow and temporary, and that is enough for them. But we don’t believe that at Rare Flowers. We are taught otherwise. Men need a companion who is their equal, and a match in the true sense of the word. They require a someone who can offer strength where they are weakest and support where they most miss it.”

“And what do young girls like yourself require?”

“Security and hope. Kindness and honesty. For young girls like myself, as you put it, a true match is never achieved in hours or days or even years; it is achieved over the course of a lifetime. Commitment is the means by which we attain it. Commitment is a journey that works best when each step taken is carefully measured.”

“Pretty words. How is it that one so young has reached these complex conclusions? You seem very insightful.”

“I am pleased you think so. Would you like to hear my story?”

He was enjoying this. He hoped Corussin wouldn’t resurface right away. “Please. Tell it to me.”

“I am the child of Rovers, a chieftain’s daughter. Not a firstborn child, but one younger. When you are not firstborn, you have little worth in our culture. Mostly, in the eyes of our parents, we serve as marriage material. My father sought to match me with a rug seller in exchange for a few of his wares and some gold. I decided not to agree, so he threw me out. I took my leave of him and of my people and set out for the Southland. I quickly discovered how difficult it is for a girl of fifteen to make her way in the world. A few hard lessons and a few narrow escapes followed, and six months ago I found myself on the doorstep of Rare Flowers, asking Corussin for a place. I was taken in. I learned the things I needed to know fairly quickly. Now I search for a match. But the men with whom I have interviewed have failed to measure up to my requirements.”

She was bold to tell him this, making her offer of a match more like a challenge than a request. But he had already decided she knew more than she was letting on. No one this young could be anywhere near as prescient as she seemed to be. She was Corussin’s choice; the proprietor of Rare Flowers must have had her in mind all along. Now he had dispatched her to him, wanting her to demonstrate how clever and manipulative she could be. He would have told her about him first, of course, giving her just enough information to act on when she found him. But it was no coincidence that she was here.

Still, he admired her greatly and thought she might do.

“What if I were to offer you a temporary match with someone besides myself?” he asked. “I would take you with me and pay you very well for your time and trouble.”

She shook her head. “I am not interested in anyone else. I am interested in you.”

“But I told you I am not looking for a match.”

“And I told you that sometimes men don’t know what they are looking for. I suggest that you reconsider.”

He was perplexed. He had expected her to jump at his offer. She was staring at him with frank but unyielding determination. She was not going to back down, he realized.

“You are too young for me,” he tried. “I am more than twice your age. I would be old and useless before you reached your prime. You require a younger man.”

“I require what is suitable for me. Age has nothing to do with it. I am searching for the man who will complement me as I intend to complement him. You are that man.”

His patience slipped. “Corussin put you up to this, didn’t he? This is meant to demonstrate your talents. Very well. You have done that. I accept that you have demonstrated your capabilities. You are exactly who I am looking for. But stop pretending you want me.”

The girl’s face darkened. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Corussin has nothing to do with my coming to you. I saw you earlier, standing in front of the building. I watched you meet with him and then come into Rare Flowers and retire to the back rooms. I took your measure all the while, making up my mind. When I saw you come out into the gardens, I decide to approach you with my offer.”

Arcannen was stunned. Could she be telling the truth? Did she really know nothing of his purpose in coming to Rare Flowers? Had Corussin not spoken to her?

“How do you see our time together?” he asked impulsively. “What would you and I do?”

She hesitated for the first time. “I wish to study magic with you. I wish you to be my mentor. In exchange for this, I would be your companion. In time, if we both agree that it feels right, I would become your bedmate. But this is not what I am seeking at present. Nor are you, unless I have misjudged you.”

“You have not,” he assured her. “And if our arrangement begins to feel wrong?”

“Then we would part company. If you feel you have been misled or misused, I would return half the money you have given me. I do not ask for anything I have not earned.”

He studied her anew. She was very young, but she had an old soul. “I might end up using you badly in this bargain.”

“I will take that chance.” The girl leaned in a bit. “I know my confronting you like this is unusual. The rules are clear. You are not to be approached by the girls who come here. But I am tired of waiting on Corussin to provide me with suitable choices. I am bored and eager to get on with my life. I know what I want when I see it, and I know the direction I wish my life to go. Take me with you. You won’t regret it.”

Across the way, a door opened onto the gardens and Corussin appeared. For the first time, the girl looked unsettled. “Please decide quickly,” she whispered, rising and stepping back.

Her haste reinforced his growing conviction that the proprietor had indeed not sent her as a prospect. It was clear that she did not think he would be happy to find her with him.

“Here is my bargain,” he said. “I will take you with me and make you my student and teach you magic if you will agree to the following. There is no time to explain all the details, but it involves a boy about your age. I require his special talents. I need you to help me persuade him. I need you to make him fall in love with you and then manipulate him to act on my behalf. It must be done without him knowing the truth. It is only for a month or perhaps two. Not a long time in a young girl’s life. After that, I will take you away. Do you agree to my offer?”

She nodded at once. “I do. Unless you intend to ask me to harm him. Then I must refuse.”

“I promise not to ask that of you. But I may ask other things that you will not find agreeable. Nothing that will harm either you or him, but that you will still find distasteful. Do you still agree?”

She nodded quickly. “I do. Now help me.”

“Lariana!” Corussin shouted at the girl, coming up swiftly. “What do you think you are doing?”

She turned to face him, but she did not reply. Arcannen rose to stand with her. “Any luck?” he asked the proprietor.

“A little,” the other answered, but his attention was all on the girl. “You know the rules. You do not approach the gentlemen who come to call at Rare Flowers without an appointment and my express permission.”

“I only came over to ask if he required anything,” she responded.

“Yes, that is so,” the sorcerer agreed.

“It doesn’t matter what you thought you were doing. It is forbidden to approach anyone with whom you do not have a prearranged meeting. You will go to your room until I am finished here. You might want to consider packing your bags.”

“Yes, why don’t you do that,” Arcannen agreed. He turned to Corussin. “I have decided to take her with me. She is the girl I want. She will provide exactly the services I am seeking. How much do I owe you?”

The proprietor was stunned. Then he wheeled on Lariana. “Why are you still here? Do as I have told you.”

The girl nodded and left at once. Corussin watched her cross through the gardens and disappear back inside the building before he turned again to Arcannen. “You do not want this girl,” he said.

The sorcerer was surprised. “I think maybe I do. I spoke to her at length. Quizzed her, really. Her answers were impressive. What is the problem?”

“I don’t know. Not exactly. But there is something not quite right about her. She is beautiful, intelligent, and well spoken. She is extremely strong-minded. But she is ambitious, too. And there is something more. I sense it in the way she keeps herself apart from everyone. She considers herself superior to all of us. She dismisses her suitors in the most abrupt and unflattering ways. She is never satisfied. I have kept her this long only because I keep hoping the right match will appear.”

“Perhaps it has. Let me have the use of her for a short time. If she becomes a problem, I will dispose of her and not ask for a single credit back. If she turns out as I hope, I will keep her with me.”

Corussin shook his head. “This is a mistake, Arcannen. I have never before tried to talk a customer out of making an arrangement with one of my girls, but I am doing so now. Let me find someone else. There are dozens of girls here, many of them persuasive in the ways you have already mentioned. Talk to a few of them. See if one of them won’t do.”

Arcannen shook his head. “Time slips away. The chances were small when I came to you that I would be able to find the girl I needed. Unexpectedly, I did. But the chances that I will find her again are minuscule. I choose her. Name your price.”

“As an old friend and business partner, I urge you to—”

“Name your price!” Arcannen snapped, cutting him short.

It was three times what he had expected he would end up paying, an attempt by the establishment’s proprietor to punish Arcannen for his boldness, but a bargain if Lariana proved to be as resourceful as the sorcerer believed. Corussin was right. There was something about this girl, and whatever it was, it might prove to be the difference in winning or losing the boy. Life was a gamble. There was no point in wishing things would change now.

Besides, he had always relied on his instincts, and his instincts told him she was the one.