Spell Bound, page 5
When he straightened, he met the lord’s eyes again, and waited.
"You are bold," Aeronymous said musingly. "Perhaps Erdin failed of telling you that I find boldness. . .impertinent."
"He did say so, sir," Cael admitted, not wishing to cause the arms-man harm.
"But you chose to ignore him. Or you do not think it impertinent that a ranger boldly meet the eyes of a lord."
There seemed nothing to say to this that might not be construed as continuing impertinence — Erdin had warned him, also, that Aeronymous counted slights with a heavy hand.
"Well," Aeronymous said, closing his book. It rose from his knee, and wafted to the shelf on the right of the chair, where it inserted itself into the space from which it must have been summoned.
Cael kept his eyes turned toward the lord, his gaze somewhat averted, so that he did not give challenge by a direct stare.
"Well," Aeronymous said again. "You have convinced me, Cael the Wolf, that you must become attached to my household."
Cael drew a breath. "I had no wish to do so, my lord," he said, softly, his gaze averted.
"Of that, I am certain," Aeronymous said. "Indeed, I had thought to let you go with a beating, and a tithe of your power given in liege-gift. But there is no help for either of us; you must become mine."
Panic rose in him; he quelled it, and bowed, as courtly as he was able.
"My lord, I have a place, and there I serve you well. I –"
Aeronymous waved a hand.
"Yes, yes," he said impatiently. "You have a bond-mate, and a life, and your duty, wherein you served me, in your way, I make no doubt." The blue eyes had taken on grey, as if storm clouds moved over the ocean. "You ought to have thought of these things before you turned my dogs from their task, and brought yourself to my attention. You ought, perhaps, to have allowed the wolves to kill you. But you did not the one, and failed of the other, and thus the case falls to me."
He stood, then, power outlining his form, and his curls stirring, as if in a sea-breeze.
"You are too dangerous a man, Cael the Wolf, to be left to your own will and judgment. You would ever be a blade at my back. If blade you would be, then you will be safely sheathed, and hung upon my belt."
"My lord, I mean you no harm. I –"
"Silence!"
A blow struck his chin, snapping his mouth shut. Within that sealed cavern, his tongue began to burn.
He reached, blindly, to his own poor store of power, bringing it, icy, into his mouth. Surprisingly, the lord allowed it; he allowed the fire to be quenched. But he did not allow Cael to unseal his lips.
"Hear me, now, for there is a choice before you, one of the few that remain to you. Either you will release your bond of your own will, or I will break it, of mine. Understand that some damage might be done, if I am the author of this action, and I think you will agree that it would be a sad pity, were Seafort deprived of its healer.
Choose carefully, Cael the Wolf."
His blood was hot with his risen power; he was terrified for Senaya — and as before, there was neither thought nor uncertainty, as he straightened into that other power, which was his alone — and called.
From the kennels, came the belling of hounds.
From further yet, came the howling of wolves.
He felt himself expand further still, and in some interior room a lap-dog began to yip. He would free himself; he would be not be bound here; he —
A blade of power slashed through him, and he screamed, his lips tearing open, before he fell, insensible, to the foam-colored rug.
#
"Wake!"
He tasted blood as he straightened his back — and felt the bite of restraints, around arms and legs; his throat was gripped, tight and cold, and when he moved his head to worry at it, he heard the clank of chain.
At last he opened his eyes, saw one end of the chain in the hand of Aeronymous, and felt the metal biting into his skin.
"Are you a fool, Cael the Wolf? Speak!"
"No, my lord," he heard himself say, though he had willed no answer.
"I take leave to doubt it. Did you think to best me? Did you think to break away? Rousing my own dogs against me, in the depths of my own holding? Would you slay your lord? Put your paltry, peasant happiness before the command of your liege? However you came to be, your only purpose is to obey me. You live at my whim, and when you have served me to the fullness of your meager ability, I will drink you down in one quaff, Cael the Wolf. Do these things please you? Speak!"
"Yes, master," he heard himself say, and hated the words.
"You have now demonstrated to both of us why it is that you must on no account be allowed your own will. Perhaps it was necessary. Allow me now to recall to you your penultimate choice. Do you break the bond, or do I break the healer? You have shown me no reason to be gentle."
Senaya. No, he would not give Senaya to the lord’s cruelty. But. . .to break faith with her whom he shared. . .everything? Such a sundering must unmake one — or both! — as close as their sharing had been.
He took a breath, and looked to his lord.
"Speak," said Aeronymous.
"I will do it," he said, his voice hoarse.
"Then be about it, quickly!"
He closed his eyes, and found the bond lying hard against his heart, quivering with Senaya’s distress. Her mother was with her, and the eldest of her sisters. Good. They would do what was needful, and keep her away from harm.
The proper way to break a bond, is to cut it in the middle, so that neither side suffers more from the severing than is. . .needful.
Cael brought his will and his intent to his own heart, concentrating on the bond until it filled his entire awareness.
He brought the knife of his will down, severing the bond with a single strike.
And screamed again, as power poured out of him like blood, and his heart shattered in his breast. Blackness overtook him; he embraced it. Somewhere, he heard a dog howling, and in the woods, deep in the woods, shrouded in emerald light, he saw something move four-footed among the fallen leaves, and rise up on two legs to face the wolf. . .
. . .wolf. . .
It was cold. The wolf faded, and the wood. He reached out to touch Senaya — and found. . .nothing.
#
Fire fell out of cold nothingness, assaulting his last fluttering thought. Power poured into him, scalding; scouring. His mouth was filled with salt, and his ears with the crashing of waves. His sundered heart was fire-forged; melted and made whole; the howl that he heard was his own, until — at last and again — he heard nothing at all.
#
He came to himself. His cheek was pressed to the rug; the bonds and the collar were gone. There was a. . .weight at the center of his chest, but there was no pain.
There was no pain.
"You may rise and look upon your liege lord, Cael the Wolf."
The voice thrilled him; he rose eager, and raised his eyes, gasping in an agony of love. He dropped to his knees, tears springing to his eyes, but he was not ashamed, for was this not his liege-lord, whom he loved above all else?
"Are you in truth my faithful wolf?"
"Yes, my lord."
"It pleases me to hear it. Raise your face to me — yes. Do you love me, Cael?"
"Only you, my lord."
Aeronymous stepped forward and held out his slim hand.
"Swear to me, if that is your will."
Of course it was his will! He placed his hand into the hand of his lord, and gazed up into those sea-blue eyes.
"I, Cael, do swear upon my soul that I will keep faith with Aeronymous and never cause him harm. I will defend him and reverence him and in all things obey him; and stand his man forevermore."
There was a faint boom, as if a door had shut, and a sharp pain at the center of his chest — gone before he could gasp. He felt a glow of happiness.
"Excellent," his lord said. "We shall never part, Cael the Wolf. Your oath binds you to Aeronymous, for lack of whom you will die. Does that please you?"
Something stirred at the back of his mind, showing teeth in a silent snarl, but that was as nothing before the joy that suffused him.
"I am pleased, my liege."
A smile came onto those cold lips.
"Hear me, then. You will serve me as Master of Hounds. The first task you are given is to become court-wise and handy, for my Master of Hounds will sit at the second highest table, and be the equal of those who style themselves noble. You will be my eyes and my ears, and you will report all that you have heard, to me, and me alone."
Behind him, he heard the door open, but he remained on his knees, looking up into his lord’s face. He could have remained so for the rest of his life, and wanted for nothing else.
However, his lord had other necessities.
"Rise," Aeronymous said, and he did so, anticipating the opportunity to serve.
Aeronymous gestured, and one came forward, splendid in courtly dress, scented with book dust; his power heavy with knowledge.
"You will go with this one," his lord said, "and learn all that is taught to you."
"Yes, my lord." He bowed; straightened, and hesitated.
"Speak," said Aeronymous.
"Yes, my lord. I only wonder. . .Will I see you?"
Once again Aeronymous was seen to smile.
"I will be with you always, my wolf, for are we not of one heart?"
#
He was an exemplary wolf — intelligent, loyal, and fierce. In those early days, he mastered every lesson set to him, quickly and thoroughly. History, custom, court courtesy and dialect, the deportment expected of one who sat among lords — those things he leaned easily. Arms work and hand-to-hand — those he barely needed to learn; it was if he had been born with an innate understanding of such matters. Horsemanship, however, had been a long road, for horses did not like him. Even now he rode but rarely, though he had long since mastered the spell-work to force his mount to calm obedience.
Having been schooled in the basics, he was placed as his lord had said — at the second table, among those who were great, but who had ambition. His listened, as he had been directed, and he repeated what his keen ears heard, to no one but Aeronymous. Indeed, his happiest moments were those spent sitting at his lord’s feet in the private parlor, reporting and then listening as Aeronymous told over what this or that nugget might mean; who must be culled, and who left to continue until it was seen what others joined with him, in an attempt to bring Aeronymous down from his high seat, drink his power, and set themselves up as Sea Ozali in his stead.
He had brought the tales of such plots to his lord, as he was bound to do; and he stood by his lord’s side, when punishment was extracted. That, too, was something to learn, but Aeronymous did not always — or even often — mete death to those who would have gladly served him that dish.
Of one, he drew power, rendering his enemy invalid and scarce able to defend himself. It would have been kinder merely to kill him; but his lord Aeronymous was not kind.
It was more effective to return him, trembling and frail, to the ranks of his sometime allies. To them he spoke, for the few days longer that he managed to survive; he told them of the cold will of Aeronymous, and his power that was too great to be taken. So, he taught them, if neither fear nor respect, at least caution.
Of another plotter, he merely drew the names of her compatriots, and let her return to her place, unscathed; undiminished in honor. Not so, those whose names had been taken; those, Aeronymous broke slowly, partaking of their power a sip at a time, savoring their suffering. He had required Cael by his side for this, and fed him also tit-bits of power; scraps from the feast table.
Still a third, he reached out to at a state dinner, and drew his power all at once, killing him where he sat; the thing so deftly done that none but Cael understood it had happened until the guests rose from table, for dancing.
In this way, by these stratagems, did Aeronymous keep his seat and grow his power. He was an awful lord, but one who protected all within his care.
Save they did not try him.
For his part, Cael was content. The love he held for his lord was constant; it could not be otherwise. He knew that those other servants of Aeronymous feared him, but it mattered little. There were those who did not fear him, and who welcomed him with uncomplicated joy. He visited the dogs often, as this thing had not been denied him by his lord, and he reveled in their simple honesty.
He was, indeed, on his way to the kennels even now.
It was rare for him to be free at so early an hour in the evening, but Lord Aeronymous had lately acquired a new favorite, and it was his pleasure to retire them early for disport and enjoyment. This was the third favorite Cael had seen; and he wished she would eventually be cast from the lord’s bedchamber as the first had been — pleased, somewhat increased in power, and hung about with trinkets.
The second. . .had not fared so well. He had presumed upon the lord’s infatuation, mistaking indulgence for weakness.
Aeronymous was never weak. And it had been, Cael had reflected at the time, a terrible thing to have fallen from favorite to traitor, for the lord had been as full with his fury as he had been with his brighter passion.
Cael shivered as he made his way toward the kennel, and not only because the ocean air was chill. It was well, he thought, that Aeronymous had fixed his own regard and nature in the moment of his resurrection. Whatever he had lost in his love for the lord, at least he risked no death such as had been meted the second favorite.
He came ’round the corner of the house, following the path that skirted the kitchen garden — and froze, a step echoing in his ear.
There was no footstep among the House which was strange to him, but this — a soft footfall by nature, purposeful by intent; familiar, and beloved, long before he had come to the House of Aeronymous.
The breeze danced ’round the edge of the house, bringing him her scent, and he spun, horror replacing his content, searching the path with his keen, hound’s eyes. . .
She stepped out from the kitchen doorway, and stood in the center of the path, her hands folded beneath her cloak, and her dark hair lying loose upon her shoulders.
"Senaya!" He could not move — but she did, walking slowly down the path to him, outlined by the meager glow of her power.
"So, you remember me. It was said in the village that Lord Aeronymous had rent your past from you."
He shook his head, trembling now, horror rooting him yet to the path.
"I remember," he said. "Senaya –"
"You glow like the moon, my Cael. Surely, you are a lord, yourself."
"No," he said harshly. "I am my lord’s lapdog, with his collar ’round my heart."
It frightened him, that he spoke those words. He had known, of course; Aeronymous had not taken his memories, nor hidden the manner of his binding — that would have been kind. Still, he had been content to let the knowledge lie sleeping beneath what he had become.
"I see it," Senaya said, stopping now that they were toe to toe. "He has hurt you, my Cael, and grievously. You were not meant, ever, to be chained."
"It is too late, as you must see. Senaya — you must not bide here! He will — I do not know what he will do, but he threatened once to break you, and –"
"And you would not allow it. I know; I was there with you, through the bond, until the moment you broke us asunder. I thought then that I would die. My mother thought that, surely, you had." She paused, tipping her head, perhaps to study him more closely.
"My sister said that you wished to die."
"I had. I. . .did. My lord caught my soul before it took flight."
"And bound it to his service, twisting you as he did so."
"Senaya, this is of no use. I am lost to you, as if I had died, in truth. Go, I beg you –"
"You are afraid," she murmured. "For me. This is more than I had hoped for."
"Should I not be afraid for you? I love you!"
He gasped, pain searing him, as if someone had wrung his living heart in a vise.
"Cael?"
He shook his head, breathing against the agony until it grew bearable, hearing his blurted words again, tasting the simple truth of them. And that was worse — far worses than mere pain. If anyone had heard, who would bear the tale to Aeronymous; if the sea-breeze wafted those words to his lord’s sharp ears. . .
"Senaya, you must go."
She smiled and lay her hand on his shoulder.
"Why, and so I shall, very soon. I had only wished to see you again, my Cael; and to give you a gift."
A gift? He had no need of gifts; his one pressing need was to see her safe away. Already, he was planning; he might send Scartooth and Vinja with her, to guard her way back to the village. They were good dogs, and true; they would let nothing harm her.
"Peace, my love," she murmured. "Recall, when we were bonded, I asked bride-right, and you granted it?"
"Yes. . ." He remember the feel of her power enveloping him; how he had trembled at her strength. . .
"We are no longer bonded, and I wish to marry again. Thus, I return to you your nature."
"My nature." He dared to extend a hand, and touch her dear face. "Senaya, hear me. I am a child of the old wood; an unnatural thing. What you hold is. . .a monster. Cast it from you."
She turned her cheek into his caress. "No monster, but an honest man, and true, who even now plots to see me safely away, discounting any cost to himself." She took a breath, and moved one careful step back from him.
"Hear me, now, Cael who was bondmate to Senaya; this thing that our lord has imposed upon you — it is not love, no matter how great a burden it casts upon your heart. Allow it to rule you and you will become a monster, indeed. I return to you your nature, that you may have a true guide, untainted by our lord’s power."
Her power flared, and broke, a minor wavelet, spending at his feet. There was no other sensation, save his sadness, that he should have so far outgrown her; who had only wished to be her equal.
It struck him then, like a rock to the chest; power flared, igniting him, blood and bone. Senaya swam in his vision, and he heard a dog whine, near at hand.
His sight left him entirely as he went to his knees on the path; he felt Senaya’s arms come ’round him tightly, and her lips seek his.
