Thinking of her kiss the previous night, Anvar felt himself blush. Would she regret what had happened under the influence of the wine? Would she turn away in embarrassment or scorn? But the smile she gave him was frank and friendly—and sympathetic.
“You, too?” slwssid with a wry smile, putting a hand to her forehead. Anvar nodded. “Never mind,” she said. “It was worth it. I enjoyed every minute of last night.”
Anvar was startled. Did she know what he’d been thinking? Did her words carry some hidden meaning? Frowning, he followed the Mage into her rooms.
“Gods, what a mess!” Aurian grimaced at the litter of bottles and goblets, and went to open the curtains.
Anvar put down the tray and began to tidy the debris while she lit the fire—a task that never took her long. The sound of their bustle must have awakened Forral, for Anvar heard a groan from the bed in the adjacent room. Aurian ran to the swordsman, her face full of sympathy, and Anvar cursed his own stupidity. Hidden meanings, indeed! What a fool he was! Thoroughly ashamed of himself, he turned to go.
Aurian’s face appeared round the bedroom door. “Don’t go yet, Anvar!” she said.
Anvar waited reluctantly as she mixed some of Meiriel’s medicine and took it in to Forral. The loving closeness of the pair emphasized the emptiness of his own life, and he felt left out and, in truth, a little jealous. Besides, he didn’t want to risk meeting Miathan.
“When are you expecting the Archmage, Lady?” Anvar asked as Aurian came back into the room.
“Miathan? Is he corning? Has there been a message?”
Aurian frowned.
Anvar gestured at the table set for three. “No, but I thought ...”
The Mage’s face broke into a grin. “Gracious, no,” she said. “Miathan won’t eat with me while Forral is here. I thought you might like to join us this morning, since it’s Solstice Day. Go on, sit down. Forral’s coming.”
When the swordsman appeared, his haggard face turned green at the sight of the food. “Do I have to eat that stuff?” he asked plaintively.
“Go on, try it,” Aurian urged. “It’s just what you need.”
“Bossy!” Forral grumbled, but sure enough, the food and Aurian’s medicine soon began to work, and by the time the last plate was cleared, everyone was feeling much better.
Aurian turned to Anvar. “Forral and I exchanged gifts last night,” she said, “and it occurred to me that I hadn’t given you anything, so . . .” She leaned across and lifted the box that had been propped in the corner. “This is for you.”
Anvar held the box on his lap, not knowing what to say. It was almost too much. Forral, last night, had given him the cloak—and now this. Slowly he opened the lid. There, cradled by a thick padding of cloth, lay a beautiful guitar, its gleaming wood rich with intricate inlay—work of real quality. He stared at Aurian, not daring to believe.
“Is it all right?” she asked. “I should have let you choose for yourself, but I wanted to surprise you. I’m sure the maker would change it if you don’t like it, even though he wasn’t too pleased at being knocked out of bed this morning!”
Anvar lifted the instrument carefully out of the box and struck a chord. It needed tuning after its journey in the cold, but the tone was mellow and sweet. “Oh, Lady, thank you,” he whispered. His throat felt tight, and his eyes filled with tears. No matter how much he feared and hated most of the Magefolk, he knew now that Aurian was a very special exception. If he had to be a bondservant, he could not have hoped for a kinder mistress.
In the snowy weeks that followed Solstice, Anvar’s life was brightened by the Lady Aurian’s gift. The Mage suggested that he keep it in her rooms, rather than leaving the precious instrument unattended in the servants’ quarters, and since she was away from the chambers so much, -he cpuld practice there to his heart’s content. At their suggestion, he began to accompany Aurian and Forral down to the Invisible Unicorn in the evenings to play for the troopers, and his talent was so well appreciated that he suddenly found himself gaining many new friends.
One night, Anvar was at the Unicorn with his Lady and her warrior friends, Maya and Parric. Forral was occupied at the Garrison with work for the next day’s Council meeting. Since Forral and Aurian had become lovers, the swordsman had been clashing more and more with Miathan, and Anvar knew that Aurian was becoming increasingly concerned. She was quiet and distracted that night; her brow was clouded with a frown that not even Parric ’s,jnost outrageous sallies had been able to lift. The arrival of Vannor, however, brought a new animation to the Mage’s face.
“Well?” Aurian demanded, as the merchant settled down with his ale. “Did you find Dulsina? Did you ask her to come back?”
Vannor gave her a mock-fierce scowl. “Did I have much choice, after that tongue-lashing I got from you and Maya? Yes, I found her—she was staying with a cousin who has a lodging house near the Garrison. Yes, she consented to come back— after she’d made me grovel, that is!”
“Serves you right for dismissing her in the first place!” Maya snorted. “We have no sympathy, do we, Aurian?”
“Not a bit!” the Mage chuckled. “You must admit, Vannor, it wasn’t a very clever move, considering that Dulsina is the only one who knows where your children are! You said she had sent them to stay with her sister, didn’t you?”
“That’s right,” the merchant said, with a heartiness that Anvar, looking on, found oddly false. “But there’s no mystery,” Vannor went on. “Dulsina’s sister lives up the coast somewhere near Wyvernesse. Dulsina didn’t want to tell me at first—I think she expected me to go charging up there causing trouble.” He signed. “I miss them, you know—especially Zanna— but Dulsina’s sister will take good care of them. It’ll do them good to get out of the city for a while, and I must admit that it’s restful not to have Sara and Zanna squabbling all the time. On reflection, Dulsina was right to do what she did—I should have known that she was-acting in the best interests of everyone.”
“I’ll wager that Sara’s glad to have Dulsina back!” Aurian’s eyes glinted wickedly, and Anvar pricked up his ears.
“I’ll say!” Vannor snorted. “In truth, we’re all glad to have her back—the household was falling apart around our ears without her. Even Sara said—”
At this point, Anvar went to fetch a new jug of ale. Listening to Vannor talking of Sara as his wife was just too painful. He was returning to the others at their favorite table by the fireside when a pale, faltering figure appeared in the tavern doorway. Anvar caught his breath in astonishment. D’arvan! What was he doing here?
“Aurian—thank the Gods you’re here!” The young Mage staggered to the table, flinging himself on Aurian, who had leapt to her feet. “Miathan threw me out! And Davorshan— he—”
“D’arvan!” Aurian had automatically put her arms around the distraught Mage’s shoulders. Anvar saw her recoil as though she had been stung, and her hands, when she took them away, were covered with blood. The Mage recovered herself quickly. “Hurry,” she hissed at Anvar. “Help me get him out of here, before anyone notices!”
“Do you want me to help?” Vannor asked.
Aurian shook her head. “No, Vannor—just divert attention, if you would. I don’t want the word to get out that a Mage was attacked!”
“We’ll follow in a moment,” Maya whispered, looking alarmed. Anvar helped the Mage catch D’arvan as he collapsed, and she made her hasty good-nights to Parric and Maya. They headed for the door, supporting his limp body between them.