Forgotten Truth Read online

  “That’s the girl Ren said knocked Earan down,” one said.

  “Can’t be!” another protested. “He said fire shot from her eyes. Hers are plain old blue.”

  Alissa smiled, imagining that by the end of the day, she would have not only knocked Earan down but broken his arm and eaten his horse.

  The sight of the firepit sent a stab of heartache through her. “Strell,” she said as her steps faltered. She was missing him terribly. She was missing Strell, missing Talon, missing Useless, and even missing Lodesh, for though he was here, he didn’t know her. Miserable, she wandered until she found a small fish pond. It wasn’t in her version of the garden, so she sat on the nearby stone bench to share her breakfast with the minnows, enjoying the novelty.

  It was only when she reached for the teapot that she realized she had no cup. “Hounds,” she swore, then jumped at a small scuffling on the path.

  “Here, Alissa,” came Lodesh’s voice. “Mav sent me out with the cups.”

  “Your timing is impeccable,” Alissa said as she patted the bench. Mav, she decided, must have forgotten her cup intentionally to give Lodesh an excuse to seek her out.

  He sat with a happy sigh and poured out the tea, handing Alissa hers first. “After last night, I was afraid you might be able to craft a cup from your thoughts,” he said.

  “No.” Alissa sipped at the tea, paying attention to the taste. “Only clothes.”

  “But not shoes, yet.” He chuckled as he blew ripples across his tea. “I haven’t even managed to fix a single form.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get your cup. Just watch the glazing.”

  He made a sound of agreement, then tilted his head. “You knew I was making a cup?”

  Alissa’s grip tightened, and she kept her gaze on the pond. “Everybody wants to learn how to make a cup,” she said guardedly, and he relaxed. “I’ve just about given up, though.” She picked up a pebble and tossed it in to make a soft splash. “I can’t throw a pot to save my life.”

  “Perhaps you need a new teacher,” Lodesh suggested.

  “Strell is an excellent potter!” Alissa cried before realizing he wasn’t serious. “Sorry.”

  “Strell?” Lodesh jumped to his feet, striking an overly dramatic, alarmed stance. “I have a competition before me. Tell me where he is, milady, so I may challenge him for the right to pursue your charms.”

  “Oh, Lodesh.” She smiled up at him. “Don’t be silly.”

  He abruptly dropped his playacting and sat down. “I’m not.” Somehow he found her hand, but it was several heartbeats before she found the presence of mind to gently pull away. Lodesh was unperturbed; he almost seemed pleased. “I was wondering,” he said lightly, “if you would like a tour of the city? Redal-Stan isn’t likely to take you on as a student, and as all the other teaching Masters have succumbed to the fall wanderlust and are gone, you’ll have the day free.” He bent to find a smooth rock and skipped it across the pond to disappear into the bracken on the other side. “Redal-Stan is instructing Connen-Neute while his usual teacher is away, so I have the day to myself, as well. We can be to Ese’Nawoer and back before the Hold’s doors are locked for the night.”

  Alissa’s eyebrows rose. “Actually, I was supposed to meet Redal-Stan at the sixth hour. Do you know when that is?”

  Lodesh looked at her in disbelief. “Come on.” He stood and pulled Alissa to her feet. He tossed their tea out and gathered the cups. “You’re late.”

  “Not again,” she wailed. She snatched her plate and teapot, following Lodesh through the twists and turns until he gallantly opened the kitchen door for her. It was an absolute bedlam. She balked on the sill, reluctant to enter the swirling maelstrom of noise and heat.

  “You should see the students’ kitchen,” Lodesh said, and he dived in, pulling her along.

  There was a soft presence at her elbow, and Alissa looked to find Kally. “I’ll take that for you,” the girl whispered. Smiling her thanks, Alissa released the teapot and plate to her care.

  Lodesh caught Kally as she turned away, whispering something. The girl’s face lit up, and she glanced at Alissa.

  “Lodesh?” Mav’s shout made Alissa jump. “Be a dear and take up Redal-Stan’s tray?”

  “Yes, Mav, my most favorite of old ones,” he said dramatically, performing a flamboyant bow as Kally vanished on an unknown errand. “Alissa and I will bring sustenance and charm to tame the beast that is Redal-Stan before his first cup of tea.”

  “Thank you, dearie,” she said lightly. “So kind of you to go out of your way.”

  Lodesh’s put-on air of self-sacrifice vanished as he leaned against a table to snitch a breaded sausage, devouring it in three bites. “We were headed there anyway,” he said, wiping his fingers clean. “Redal-Stan bumped Connen-Neute’s instruction to evaluate Alissa’s skills.”

  “The old beast is taking another student?” Mav asked.

  “Seems so.” Levering himself up, he snagged a second sausage in one hand and the tray of cooked links Mav indicated in the other.

  “Go on. Get. Before they get cold,” Mav said brusquely as he gave her a peck on her paper-thin cheek, but she was beaming.

  Alissa accepted the teapot Mav pressed into her hands. Taking a steadying breath, she followed Lodesh into the dining hall. It was twice as noisy as before, and she was glad to see Earan was absent. The barren spot above the hearth drew a frown from her, but perhaps the intriguing picture done in swirling blues had yet to be painted. Thoughts distant, she trailed after Lodesh into the great hall.

  “Burn me to ash!” she whispered as she jerked to a stop. The great hall was gorgeous! The marble steps glistened in the sun. Elegant finials graced the banister. Waves of color hung from the high, open walkways. The rug showing the movements of the sun that she had found in storage was out, its subtleties not yet muted by centuries of use.

  Alissa bit back a curse and ducked as something round and silver swooped over her head. “What,” she exclaimed as she spun to follow it, “was that?”

  Lodesh waited as she watched the head-sized sphere swing majestically back across to the far end of the hall like a giant pendulum. “I thought you said you were from the Hold,” he said.

  “I am,” Alissa asserted, exasperated she had let her surprise show. “But—never mind,” she finished sourly. She followed Lodesh up the stairs until they stood at the fourth floor landing. He was smiling expectantly, and she peered down to the floor of the great hall. Her mouth fell open in understanding. “It’s a timepiece!” she whispered, leaning precariously over the railing. “The ball swings steady as the earth turns under it, marking off the hours as it goes.”

  Strong fingers grasped her shoulder to keep her from leaning farther. “See the hours sewn onto the rug?” Lodesh asked, sounding pleased. “It has to be reset every morning. Occasionally the students will alter the pendulum’s swing in an attempt to explain their tardiness, and everyone runs about off their time until Redal-Stan resets it.” He chuckled, and Alissa wondered how many times Lodesh had been responsible for such a prank. “Nearly broke my arm,” he said, confirming her suspicions.

  Alissa had seen the numbers on the rug when she and Strell had first rolled it out, but not knowing what the rug’s purpose was, she had thrown it down any old way. Her eyes widened as she realized the pendulum was swinging halfway to the seven.

  “Oh, Lodesh. I’m so late!” she wailed. Snatching the teapot and hiking up her skirt, she skittered up the remaining four flights until halting in confusion at the base of the tower. Lodesh took the lead until they reached the top. There he indicated the first of two doors. Alissa timidly tapped at it, jumping as Redal-Stan’s thoughts came slipping expertly into hers.

  “Alissa,” he began pleasantly enough. “Get in here.”

  “Lodesh is with me,” she thought hesitantly.

  “Well, that explains your tardiness. Get in here.”

  Alissa fidgeted. “As a Keeper, I shouldn’t be able to h
ear you.”

  There was a slight hesitation and the impression of a sigh, then, faint through the door came his shout, “You’re late, student. Get in here!”

  Alissa and Lodesh exchanged worried looks. With a dismal glance at her creased skirt, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  The walls were stark white, absolutely bare of anything, reflecting the sun to make the room painfully bright. A sloppy desk took up one corner, covered with sheaves of paper, blunt quills, and pots of ink. Surrounding it were heaps of books— precious books—stacked knee-high along the wall as if they were annoyances. An archway led to an unseen second room. Alissa thought that was where Redal-Stan was, but then spotted him and Connen-Neute on the balcony.

  The desk was a mess, but it was obvious Redal-Stan did his work in the wind. He sat in the morning sun, sprawled in a chair whose comfort astounded even her. Stones kept his papers from blowing away. It seemed they had interrupted a lesson, as Connen-Neute had a quill and paper in hand. As Alissa watched, he set his work carefully down and rose from an uncomfortable-looking stool, trying to fade into the sparse shade of the balcony supports.

  Redal-Stan turned in his chair and frowned. “I don’t recall inviting you for instruction this morning, Lodesh.”

  Unperturbed, Lodesh set the tray of sausages squarely on the small table atop the papers. He took the pot from Alissa and silently poured tea into a cup. Only after he ceremoniously gave it to Redal-Stan did Lodesh say, “I came to explain Lady Alissa’s tardiness—and ask a favor.”

  “Lady Alissa, is it?” Redal-Stan grumbled, taking a huge quaff. He held out the plate of sausages to Alissa, his face going slack in surprise when she refused with a shudder. “You bring me breakfast,” he said. “For that, I’ll overlook your presumption, but your answer is still no.”

  Lodesh adopted a shocked expression. “You don’t know what I want yet.”

  Connen-Neute disguised a laugh as a cough, steeling his face back to a somber meekness. Wanting to make amends for her mental slap last night, she offered him some tea, smiling as he warily accepted it. She remained beside him, squinting in the sun. It was glorious up here. They were so high she could see the roofs of Ese’Nawoer beyond the trees.

  Redal-Stan took on a pious look. “Oh, Redal-Stan,” he said, mocking Lodesh’s speech perfectly. “The morning is too grand to sully it with study. Such a beguilingly beautiful woman should spend it in the woods or fields, or even the marketplace where her stunning presence will delight and inspire all those who partake of her vision. And who better than I to accompany her on such a noble and worthy undertaking?”

  Snorting rudely, Redal-Stan gulped his tea. “Did I get it right?”

  “Almost,” Lodesh said in a hurt voice.

  “The answer is no. I must ascertain where to begin her studies. It appears,” he said sourly, “that I will waste what’s left of the morning in teaching her how to tell time.”

  Alissa flushed as Lodesh took one of her hands. “I can do no more, and I bid you a regretful farewell, milady,” he said as Redal-Stan made an exasperated noise. “I leave you to bravely suffer the arrows of Redal-Stan’s thoughts and demands.” There was a light pressure on her fingers, and he bowed with a nobleman’s grace. “Mav,” he said as he moved to the door, “will be so disappointed.”

  Redal-Stan choked on his tea. “What? What’s that?”

  “Mav will be disappointed.” Lodesh hesitated on the sill, his head bowed.

  “Ah, Lodesh?” Redal-Stan shook the spilled tea from his hand and leaned forward to see him. “Why will Mavoureen be unhappy at Alissa studying with me this morning?”

  Lodesh’s toe edged back across the doorframe. “Kally has been granted a foal from the wild herd,” he said hesitantly. “I promised Mav when I had a free day I would accompany her to choose a beast sound in body as well as sight.” Lodesh looked over his shoulder and down the stairs as if unhappy with Redal-Stan forcing the issue.

  “What has this to do with Alissa?” the Master asked.

  “By week’s end, all the good foals will have been chosen by the citadel brats who aren’t troubled by such trivialities as work and responsibilities. It’s a shame,” he said softly, “that she will be punished for her endeavors while those who have none are rewarded. Mav will free Kally from her chores if only to see her get a good mount, however . . .”

  “Yes,” Redal-Stan prompted.

  “It would be unseemly for me to accompany her alone. I was hoping Alissa could join us to serve as chaperone.”

  From beside Alissa came Connen-Neute’s snicker.

  “It would please Mav to no end,” Lodesh finished hopefully.

  Redal-Stan grimaced, his smooth forehead wrinkling halfway up his bare scalp. “And if I’m ever to see another candied apple, I will have to keep Mavoureen happy.”

  Alissa held her breath. She would dearly love to see Ese’-Nawoer with her people.

  Noticing her eager hopefulness, Redal-Stan sighed. “This is something you wish to do, Squirrel?” he asked her soundlessly.

  “Very much so. Please,” was her prompt answer, wondering at the pet name.

  “An entire morning wasted,” Redal-Stan complained aloud.

  Lodesh stepped back into the room. “I can teach her how to tell time.”

  “You think you can?” Redal-Stan chuckled, and not waiting for a reply, he said, “Fine. But if you fail, you’ll light the students’ dining hall for three consecutive nights.”

  “Two,” Lodesh countered, and Alissa frowned at his lack of confidence in her.

  “Done.” Redal-Stan turned to Connen-Neute. “Do you wish to accompany them?”

  “No, thank you,” the young Master said silently. “I’ve found it wise to not intrude upon Lodesh’s schemes.”

  “Verbally,” Redal-Stan said with an impatient sigh. “We have Keepers present.”

  “No.” It was a melodious voice, dark and rich.

  “Wonderful!” Lodesh exclaimed. “Come on, Alissa, before he changes his mind,” and he grabbed her arm, dragging her across the polished floor. “Kally is already in the stables,” he added in a whisper.

  “But my tea!” she protested as Lodesh yanked her into the hall.

  “Enjoy yourself, Squirrel,” was Redal-Stan’s parting thought. Then they were gone, and halfway down the narrow tower stairs.

  8

  Alissa allowed herself to be pulled back down the narrow tower steps. The slippery stairs made of native stone shifted to polished marble at the landing where the Keepers lived, and it was there she managed to slow him down. “Ah, Lodesh?” she said, feeling a stab of worry. “What did you mean by Kally was already in the stables?”

  He grinned, his breath fast as they brushed past the few students on the stairs. “I knew I could convince Redal-Stan to give you the day free. He’ll do anything to keep Mav happy.”

  She bit her lip, her heart pounding from more than the pace. “No. I mean—stables?” Lodesh looked at her quizzically, and she added. “I don’t know how to ride.”

  Lodesh slowed. “You really aren’t from Ese’Nawoer, are you.”

  Embarrassed, she shook her head, recalling the one time she had tried to touch a horse at market. She had been six. The wild thing had broken its cart and run down an alley, dragging its harness and a trail of infuriated plainsmen.

  Taking her elbow, Lodesh pulled Alissa down the stairs. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you a nice mount.” His gaze went to the foot of the stairs, and a smile of recognition crossed him. Mav waited with three small sacks in her hand. The old woman looked uncomfortable outside of her kitchen.

  “Young man,” she said as she handed Lodesh the packages. “You make sure Kally picks out a nice foal.”

  Alissa’s eyes widened. Was the entire Hold in on Lodesh’s plans?

  “Yes, Mav.” He peered into a sack. The smell of bread and cheese tickled Alissa’s nose.

  “I mean it,” the old woman warned, closing the bag about his finge
rs and causing Lodesh to look up. “She has been moaning all week about a certain pretty gray with a black hind foot. Thinks it’s above her station, the silly girl.”

  Lodesh grew interested. “The one sired by the black that Reeve keeps chasing from the grove?”

  The corners of Mav’s eyes crinkled. “That’s the one.”

  A faint smile hovered on Lodesh’s face. “She’ll get the one she wants.”

  “That’s my boy,” Mav said as Lodesh gave her another peck on her cheek.

  Even before Mav had shuffled back to her fires and pots, Lodesh had pulled Alissa halfway across the great hall. Seeing the mouth of the tunnel leading to the stables, her fear rushed back. “Uh, Lodesh? Maybe we could just walk it?” she suggested hesitantly.

  “Walk it!” Lodesh complained as they entered the cool shadow of the tunnel. “It will take all morning. And don’t you dare suggest a cart. Even Mav would die before being dragged behind a horse like a sack of flour.”

  He was going to say more, but the terrifying scream of a horse shocked their feet to stillness. It was followed by another, then the crash of splintering wood. “Watch it! He’s out!” Alissa heard Kally shout. “No! Get out of his way!” There was another scream.

  Lodesh and Alissa broke into a run. Together they burst into the gloom of the stables and stood in the doorway. Kally was helping a pale-faced girl up off the hay-strewn floor. The young girl looked close to tears but seemed unhurt. The remains of a stall door hung from a single hinge. As Alissa watched, it fell, causing everyone to jump and the horses to call nervously. The girl backed to a rack of harnesses with her arms clutched about her. She was absolutely terrified.

  “Easy, Coren,” Lodesh murmured, pulling her to a bale of straw and sitting down before her with his hands about hers. “Everyone is all right. What happened?”