“I see.”
“Oh, don’t misjudge me!” Carlotta smiled without humor. “The spells may be subtle, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t powerful. And their effect, I might add, is nicely accumulative.”
“Ah, clever. Between the two of us, we should have the boy beautifully cooperative before the week is out.’’
The woman’s smile thinned ever so slightly. “I should think so. Assuming, of course, that you don’t make some mistake.”
“I won’t,” Volmar said as casually as he could. “And once he’s under our control, of course he’ll go fetch us his manuscript”
“Ah, yes. That’s going to be the true test of his enthrallment Rather than doing the copying himself the boy must be persuaded to surrender the manuscript to one of your scribes, then let our messenger carry that copy off to his cursed Master”
The count frowned. “That’s not going to be easy. He’s such a disgustingly honorable boy.” He raised a hopeful brow. “That isn’t something that’s going to change once he’s enthralled, is it?”
“No. Such spells delude and lull the will, but they can’t change a person’s inner self.” Carlotta paused. “But the boy is, as you say, still very young. If we’re careful, we should be able to so beguile him that he forgets duty. Then hell be quite willing to let the messenger have the copy of the manuscript—so that he, himself, can continue enjoying this so very flattering noble hospitality.”
Volmar sat bolt upright “Ha, I have it! If he seems reluctant, all we need to do is propose that he marry Charina.”
“Hewfwtr.
Volmar laughed. “The poor fool is too unworldly to realize I’d never let my ward marry a mere nothing. He’ll take the whole thing quite seriously. And then, of course, there will be no way he can take the copy of the manuscript back to his Master, he’ll be too busy with wedding preparations even to consider doing the copy himself!”
Carlotta raised her goblet in a wry toast “I like it A maximum of result from a minimum of effort Oh yes, I like it. Ah, poor Kevin,” she crooned, “poor little bardling. You don’t stand a chance!”
Something that sounded like a giant mosquito was droning away in his ears. Kevin came awake with a start, ready to swat whatever. But then he sank back in his chair, realizing it was just the residue of yet another spell.
The bardling rubbed a tired hand over his face. Naitachal had been right: it was turning into a long, weary night’s work, even if it was the Dark Elf who had to do most of that work.
Whatever it is that he’s doing.
There had been a confusing barrage of spells so far, some of them briefly entangling Kevin in a whispery net of sound, some of them blanketing him in comforting warmth, some of them—the bardling shook his head. He couldn’t even interpret how some of them had felt
“Naitachal?”
“Stay still.” The Dark Elf’s voice was thick with fatigue. “Only a few more to go.’’
“Can’t you stop and rest? I mean, I know I’ve been asleep half the time, but you haven’t had a chance to so much as close your eyes.”
Naitachal smiled wryly. “Thank you for your concern, but the sooner I finish the lot, the happier I’ll fed.”
He began murmuring incomprehensible spellwords once more, and Kevin sighed, feeling a new tingling traveling all through him, a soothing sort of sensation, odd, but not at all alarming ... not at all ...
As the bardling relaxed, his eyes slid closed once more ....
This time it was the total absence of strange sensations that woke him. Kevin straightened in his chair, blinking in confusion at the faint gray light of not-quite morning.
Morning! Powers, had the Dark Elf been working through the whole night without a pause? He glanced towards where Naitachal was slumped in his own chair, eyes shut.
Wish I could just let him sleep; he’s certainly earned it!
But they’d both agreed it wasn’t such a good idea for anyone to think they’d been conspiring together.
“Naitachal?” Kevin whispered, then repeated, a little more forcefully: “Naitachal!”
The Dark Elf opened his eyes with a groan. “Yes. I’m awake.” He staggered up from the chair, straightening carefully, adding with wry humor, “So weary I could sleep on my feet like a horse, but awake,”
“You look terrible. I wish you didn’t have to wear yourself out like this.”
“Ae-ye, no one ever said magic was easy. At least this way the sorceress isn’t going to be able to turn you into her love slave.”
Kevin assumed that was meant to be a joke.
Naitachal stretched every muscle, plainly trying to force some energy back into himself, then ran his fingers through his pale, tangled mane. “Remember, though, that these are only faint copies of true protective spells I’ve cast over you. Don’t expect too much of them. I don’t dare put too blatantly powerful magics upon you. Carlotta would be sure to sense them. But what may be lacking in force, I’m making up in volume.” The weary blue eyes suddenly darkened with worry,” I hope.’’
“I can do it,” the bardling assured him, trying to sound more certain than he felt.
“Again, I hope.” Naitachal hit back a third yawn. “Ay me, I’d best get back to my own room before I fall over. Or before the servants start wondering what’s going on. Till later, Kevin.”
“Till later,” the bardling echoed uneasily.
“What’s wrong with Naitachal?” Lydia, who’d shed her finery for more comfortable tunic and breeches, whispered that to Kevin as they stood on a wide casde balcony pretending to be engrossed in an archery contest taking place in the courtyard below.
Kevin stole a wary glance back to where the Dark Elf sat in as much concealing shadow as he could find up here on this sunny morning. Naitachal’s black cloak was wrapped tightly about his slender form, the hood pulled forward to hide his face, making him look like a truly sinister figure, a sliver of Darkness amid the Light —but Kevin suspected the Dark Elf was actually just asleep with his eyes open.
“What do you think?” the bardling retorted softly. He applauded politely as one of the archers down in the courtyard below scored a near bull’s-eye. “He was up all night casting spells on me.”
“Ah. Right Of course. Feel any different?”
“No, but—”
“Oh, nice shot!” the woman called out She added so softly only Kevin could hear, “Not a decent archer in the lot. Huh, and look at the way Charina’s eying you from the doorway, like a cat watching a tasty little fish.”
This fish has some surprises in store, Kevin thought, or at least I hope I do.
The idea that the pretty young woman approaching him might really be a murderous sorceress seemed impossible on such a bright, sunny day. And yet ... A sudden nervous prickle racing up his spine, Kevin got courteously to his feet to bow to Charina. Or whoever she really was.
“My lady.”
“My! So formal!” Charina’s glance at Lydia was ever so subtly edged with contempt as she took in the woman’s warrior garb. “What’s this? I should think you would be down there, too. Lady Lydia. Are you not an archer?”