“The first indication … after all your patrols?” Emerya’s question is probingly ironic.
“I mean, within the very structure of Afrit. I began to listen more carefully and ask a few questions. It didn’t take long to discover that there were no mages or wizards available in any fashion to the Afritan Guard. That bothered me a lot, and then that became a real problem when the Heldyans invaded and parts of the Harbor Post and the palace exploded and several commanders died in strange ways…” Lerial runs through all the events, including Aenslem’s poisoning and Maesoryk’s likely connection through the cammabark, and the expedition to Estheld … and the results.
“Your summary is missing one very important detail. Just how did you manage all this devastation and destruction? The mages sent against you couldn’t have gathered that much chaos. No one could. Not that I know.”
“I learned something in Verdyn. I was advised by a very wise nature mage not to use it unless all was otherwise lost … and to do so quite sparingly.”
“Yes?”
“Apparently, I have two abilities. The first is to create order patterns that can constrain and direct chaos, even large amounts, if I construct the patterns accurately. The second is to break things apart into order and chaos. Even the tiniest bits of things release…” Lerial stops as he sees the stunned expression on Emerya’s face.
“No one … I don’t know of any mage…”
“Some of the Verdyn mages could. Doing it killed one of them. I liked her.” Lerial shakes his head. “Not that way. She was much older than you. I think that was because they didn’t have the patterning ability. That’s why I have to be very careful. If I get too tired, I can’t control the patterns, and doing any separation…” He frowns. “Klerryt—he was one of the mage-elders of Verdheln and the one who cautioned me about how dangerous it was. The first time, I almost did kill myself.”
“I thought you came back from Verdheln rather subdued, if more within yourself. I wasn’t sure. Amaira was convinced you were different. So was Maeroja.”
Lerial finds it interesting that Emerya does not mention his mother. “Anyway, that was how it happened. Then, after the fighting was all over, Rhamuel asked me to go to the lakes and look into what happened to Mykel…” Lerial finishes his tale with what happened at both lake villas, except he only uses the wasting-illness explanation for Maesoryk.
“It will be interesting to see if Maesoryk survives long.”
“We’ll just have to see.” As with many things. “Are you looking forward to dinner?”
“It’s likely to tell us both much.”
Lerial nods. “If you have no more questions…”
“For now. I am supposed to look at the duke at second glass, with his other healer.”
“That’s Jaermyd. More ordered than most people, but not enough to be an order-healer. He was very good at setting Rhamuel’s leg.”
Another enigmatic smile crosses Emerya’s face. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
Lerial wonders about that smile for a time, even as he rides back to Afritan Guard headquarters to check with his officers and senior squad leader.
LVIII
Lerial returns to the palace just before fifth glass, making his way first to Rhamuel’s receiving study, where he finds Norstaan, but not the duke, not that he has expected to see Rhamuel.
“I neglected to find out where the dinner is…” Lerial explains.
“That’s right.” Norstaan smiles. “I forgot to tell you. The Blue Salon on the third level will be serving as the family dining room for now. There will be refreshments there before dinner is served. Once the repairs and restoration on the east wing are completed that may change. The duke hasn’t said.”
Most likely because he wants to see how well and how much he recovers. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, ser.”
With a smile and a nod, Lerial departs, walking toward the north end of the palace. When he reaches Emerya’s quarters, he knocks, then waits until she admits him.
“You’re early,” she says.
“I finished what I needed to do with the Lancers.” As he waits for her to sit down, he notices that Emerya is wearing a pale green blouse, with a darker green vest and trousers that match the vest. Lerial has to admit that his aunt looks more attractive than ever … or perhaps he has just not looked at her in that way.
“You have a questioning look,” she ventures.
Rather than address exactly what he was thinking, he sits down and says, “When I left here, you had the strangest smile. I kept wondering why.”
“You’ve changed more than you know … and that’s good.”
“Why? Because I admitted Jaermyd was a better bonesetter? He is.”
“That’s what I meant. He also told me that Rhamuel wouldn’t have lived without all you did.”
“How is he? Really.”
Emerya offers a faint, almost sad smile. “It’s early to tell.”
“You don’t think he’ll walk again … or only barely, if that?”