How absurd those childish fears now seemed. Today he had no lack of confidence in his powers—only in his judgment of what to do with them.
Torio woke at mid-afternoon, gathered clean garments, and went to the castle bath—a far different device from the Aventine baths he had been accustomed to. Cisterns on the roof of the castle gathered water, some of which went into a tank above a small stone room. By opening a tap like the one on a keg of ale, he would be showered with water—effective, if not luxurious.
If I ever have a castle, Torio thought, I will install a real bath. But he could not imagine himself building a castle, ruling a land, although Lenardo and Wulfston assured him that that was his destiny.
The spring sunshine had warmed the water in the tank. Torio lavished the pleasant soap that was the unexpected invention of the savages all over himself, including his hair—a luxury he had seldom known at the Academy. As he scrubbed his face, he decided he needn't shave again for a day or two. He wasn't quite sure whether he shaved to keep some small link with his appearance as an Aventine Reader, or because his beard was still so sparse that he could not achieve the full growth that Lenardo and Wulfston wore.
When he had toweled off with fine linen, Torio put on the garments Wulfston's seamstress had provided him—the clothes of a savage lord. He wore a silk shirt and hose, and an embroidered tabard cut full enough to disguise the fact that his body was not yet filled out to a grown man's musculature.
If he had to wear such outfits, he was glad his legs were not thin, like Rolf's. Torio had had the enforced exercise of the Academy, the body expected to be as healthy as the mind—and in a sort of perverse insistence that his blindness should not keep him from any activity he chose, he had spent many hours turning himself into an expert swordsman.
But it was not just the regimen of exercise that had given Torio a healthier body than Rolf's: the young savage still bore the scars of malnutrition in childhood, as did so many people in these lands that had for generations been ruled by a series of Adepts all calling themselves by one name: Drakonius. Although everyone was now well fed and cared for, even Adept healing could do little for adults with bowed legs, missing teeth, crooked backs. Still, the children were thriving, and after Drakonius Wulfston was having little trouble gaining the love of his people.
Torio started downstairs to the main rooms of the castle, restricting his Reading to just ahead of himself as he always did indoors, to avoid breaching someone's privacy. As he crossed the hall to the main stairs, though, a door opened. Melissa Read him, and ducked quickly back into her room.
//We don't segregate male and female Readers here,// he told her. //There are not enough of us, and no Academies.//
//That's not it,// she replied sheepishly, reopening her door. "I… don't understand what you intend to do with me," she explained as Torio approached.
"I don't know—Lord Wulfston doesn't even know you're here yet," Torio replied. "But we're certainly not going to hurt you."
"But I am your captive. You turned me over to Hilda. She fed me, helped me bathe, put me to bed—and when I woke up I found clothes laid out, and the door not locked. No guard. It doesn't make sense."
Torio grinned. "If you want to run away, go. If Wulfston wants you, we'll have you back here in a few hours."
"You're not that good a Reader," she said, "and you're the only one working here, aren't you? I could leave while you're asleep. You'd never find me if I got out of your range before you woke up."
This time he laughed—for he had been as astonished as any other Aventine citizen to discover that the savages had ways of communicating over distances that did not involve Readers. Lenardo had often told the story of being caught by watchers when he had once escaped from Aradia's castle—how foolish was the empire to assume that just because they had no Readers the savages could not invent other ways of transmitting information. "Try it. You won't get far."
She tried to Read him, and he deliberately thought of swordplay exercises until she gave up. "I'll find out from someone else," she said.
"Invade the privacy of nonReaders?"
"If they're my enemies. But I think first I should meet your Lord Wulfston—I would not want to anger him before I have the chance to ask him to use his powers to revive Jason."
"Melissa, I told you—"
"Why should I believe you? How do I get to meet this savage Adept?"
"I'll wake him—he's probably hungry again by now anyway." He called down the stairs for a guard to take Melissa to the great hall, warning her, "They'll try to feed you again. Everyone thinks Readers have the same requirements as Adepts—if you don't learn to say no, you're likely to get very fat!"
Somehow, his encounter with Melissa made him feel better, even though she had raised again the issue of his lie to Portia. He went to Wulfston's room, and Read through the door. The Lord Adept was still asleep. Torio knocked. No response. That meant there was only one safe way to wake him.
Torio entered Wulfston's room and approached the bed, where he carefully touched the Adept on the forehead, between the eyes. Wulfston woke immediately. "Torio. Is anything wrong?"
"No. If you are not rested, it can wait."
"I'm fine," Wulfston replied, sitting up and stretching. "What happened while I slept?"
"I reported to Lenardo, who sends his greetings. And I found a surviving Reader."
"Good… I think. Who is he? Any chance of winning him to us?"
"It's a young woman. She has passed her preliminary testing, for she was doing her medical training at Gaeta. She almost died in the earthquake, she told me."
Wulfston frowned. "Then she will be difficult to persuade, unless you can show her why we were setting off the quakes, and why we have to do it again and again until we relieve the pressure on that main fault. Where is she?"
"Downstairs. She wants to meet you."
"Certainly. Go on down and keep her company—I'll be with you in a few minutes."
When Wulfston joined them, he was dressed as the Lord of the Land, in an outfit similar to the one Torio wore, but much more richly embroidered and made of materials in the same dark brown color as his skin. He even wore a small gold crown—and Torio told Melissa, //Lord Wulfston honors you by arraying himself to meet an equal.//
//Or to impress someone he hopes to use,// she shot back, but rose as Torio made the introductions.
"Lady Melissa," Wulfston greeted her. "You are most welcome here. I trust you have been made comfortable?"
"Yes, thank you," she replied. "I haven't been treated like a prisoner at all."
"But you are not a prisoner! Please sit down. You are my guest. Before you leave us, though, I hope we may show you what we are attempting to do here."
"… leave you?" Melissa asked as they took their places at the dining/council table in the great hall.
"We will send you home, of course, unharmed—as soon as we can arrange a meeting with representatives of the Aventine government. That was the one positive effect of your attack: It provided us with Aventine citizens to trade for such a meeting."
//I can't Read him!// Melissa complained to Torio, while aloud she said, "You have never traded prisoners before—you've always killed them. Or perhaps twisted their minds to make them work for you."
"I have never before held Aventine soldiers, my lady. Do not judge the alliance of Adepts and Readers who now hold these border lands by the actions of Drakonius. He was the one who constantly attacked your land, seeking to take it all. Drakonius is dead, and my allies and I seek peace with the empire."
//He is telling the truth,// Torio supplied, and Melissa suppressed an angry accusation. Torio felt her force herself to be calm.