"You speak the Aventine language very well, Lord Wulfston," she said.
"I was born in the empire," he replied.
"Then you are an escaped slave?" Melissa asked sweetly. Torio wanted to kick her under the table, but settled for projecting annoyance. Melissa knew as well as he did that although black Nubians, like the pale blonds from the far northern lands, usually entered the empire against their will as slaves, most of them earned freedom and the same rights of citizenship as anyone else.
But Wulfston took no offense. "My parents were freedmen, and I was born a free citizen. Not that my status would have mattered when I began to show Adept powers—our neighbors were perfectly willing to murder a citizen. However, I was rescued and adopted by Lord Nerius, who made certain that I remained fluent in my native language."
"And now you make all your people learn it? Everyone seems to speak to me in Aventine," observed Melissa.
"You haven't met very many people here yet," said Torio, "but the reason so many speak at least some Aventine is that a generation ago these lands were part of the empire. It's fortunate for me—I've been here long enough to understand most of what is said in the savage language, with the help of Reading, but I'm still not fluent at speaking it."
Melissa stared at him. "If you've gone over to their side, why do you still call them savages?"
Wulfston chuckled. "It's what we call ourselves, as our alliance has chosen no formal name yet. Lenardo started the habit. Who knows—we may end up calling ourselves savages by default: The Savage Alliance."
"This… alliance. It includes the renegade Lenardo?"
"He made it possible," Wulfston replied. "Until we had a Reader, we dared not defy Drakonius. Even our attempts to maintain peace in our own lands were interpreted as treachery—if Lenardo had not been there to guide us last year, Drakonius would have destroyed us. By now he would have carried his conquests even further. Has no one noticed that for a whole year there have been no attacks against the walls of the Aventine Empire?"
"Of course we've noticed. We've also noticed your new strategy: cause earthquakes to destroy our cities—then you can walk in and take over without a fight."
Wulfston said, "We know that is how you interpreted the accident at Gaeta."
"Accident!" Melissa scoffed.
"Yes, accident," said Torio. "We did not mean to harm Gaeta, or any other city. We are trying to relieve the pressure on the main fault under Tiberium. We don't want the capital of the empire to fall, Melissa."
"We seek a peace treaty with the empire," explained Wulfston. "Once we succeed in neutralizing the fault, thus preserving your capital, it should not be difficult to demonstrate that our intentions are peaceful. Gaeta was a major setback in our plan."
"If you think I would try to persuade other Readers that what you say is true, you are greatly mistaken." said Melissa. "There is only one thing—"
At that moment one of Wulfston’s guards burst into the hall. "My lord! The watchers report an attack!"
Torio Read the man, then out into the passageway where a runner waited, panting, to tell his story. Wulfston had him brought in at once.
The report was short and clear: the Aventine fleet had not simply given up and returned home. The entire fleet, including those temporarily becalmed vessels that had been unable to participate in the first attack, had sailed south and landed, still in Wulfston's lands. They were now setting the army ashore, about two days' march to the south.
Rolf entered the hall as the watcher was telling his story, and stood near the door. "A good muddy rain will slow their march and dampen their spirits," he said. "I'll take care of it, my lord."
"Thank you, Rolf," said Wulfston. "That may buy us some time—I want the battle down there to the south, not here where my people have made such progress rebuilding and planting. Torio, notify Aradia and Lenardo. They'll come to help—but how do we hold the whole Aventine army off until they get here? Gevin," he said to the watcher, "send for everyone with Adept powers—we'll try to maintain a holding action. Lilith is so far away… but have her notified anyway, Torio, and hope she arrives just in time for a victory celebration."
As Wulfston issued orders, more people entered the hall. Messages were passed; riders and runners left the castle grounds. Men from the village near the castle converged at once, drawing weapons from the armory.
Torio felt Melissa's astonishment at the instant organization. "How can you manage all this without Readers?" she asked as the hall cleared, leaving them a center of calm at the core of a bustle of activity.
"We managed without Readers before Lenardo came," said Wulfston. "However, Torio cannot do everything. I could certainly use the help of another Reader… but I cannot ask that of you, Melissa. I'm afraid, as a precaution to keep you from reporting our moves to the Aventine army, I must put you to sleep until the battle is over."
"Wait!" she said, closed tightly to Reading. "I know a way for you to get Readers… or certainly one more Reader. I will aid you in this battle, Lord Wulfston—I will take Oath of Truth to Torio to bind it—if you will do what I ask."
Wulfston studied her. "And what," he said finally, "do you ask?"
"In a room off your dungeons," she said, opening to Reading for their reactions, allowing Torio to Read her hope, her sincerity, her burning desire to persuade the Adept, "there are twelve bodies. Seven are Readers. Use your sorcery. Bring them back to life as you did Torio. If the others won't serve you out of gratitude, I will. Bring back only one of them—Magister Jason—and I promise you I will do anything you ask, Lord Wulfston—anything!"
Wulfston's shock was so great that he became emotionally as Readable as any nonAdept: disbelief, revulsion, horror at the very suggestion. "Melissa… where did you get such an idea?!"
The girl looked to Torio, her last hope collapsing. "But you—"
"I told you it was a lie!" he said wretchedly. "It never happened, Melissa. I will give you Oath of Truth—"
"You don't have to," she said dully. "Lord Wulfston just did." Tears burning, she rose and fled from the hall.
Wulfston stared after her, his usual unReadable self once more. "What lie, Torio? What could you have told her to make her think—?"
"I didn't know Master—Lord—Lenardo hadn't told you. I was too ashamed to." And he told Wulfston how he had let Portia think her assumption was true.
"That's why they're attacking now, Wulfston—they're afraid to let us develop our powers together any further. It's my fault."
"It's nobody's fault. Torio, there is one lesson you must learn before you can be any good to yourself or to anyone else: Mistakes are to be learned from. Instead of berating yourself for a mistake in the past, determine never to make the same mistake in the future. Use it for growth, not to keep yourself from growing."
"Yes, my lord. I'll go and find Melissa."
"Leave her for now. If she conquers her grief enough to contact the Readers with the Aventine army, there's nothing she can tell them except that we are preparing to move against them. That can hardly be unexpected. Go contact Lenardo. I will deal with Melissa later."
"Yes, my lord."
"Torio—stop that! You are not a chastened apprentice. You are a Lord Reader, allied with other lords to fight off an attacking army. We are the ones being attacked. I am relying on you—I must rely on you. If you do not accept your responsibilities, many people will die in this battle who should not. And if that happens, Torio, this time it will be your fault."
Chapter Five
The sun was setting as Melissa ran out into the courtyard of Wulfston's castle. It was jammed with horses, wagons, people preparing for battle—against Melissa's friends and country. Her shock and grief made her whole body ache… but her duty shored her up. Before Wulfston caught her, she must find a safe place to leave her body—then he could do nothing except kill her physical being. Death of a body left behind happened to Readers sometimes. No one was quite sure where the consciousness went when that happened—no living Reader had ever found the way to the plane of the dead, and returned.