He had gotten Vanyel. This was rather akin to setting a trap for a sparrow and catching a firebird. The mental blow that knocked him unconscious had caught him completely by surprise.
So when he came to, he had done so behind a screen prepared for just such an occasion. He had retreated behind a disguise that had been created for him by another mage - just in case he had discovered that the one he intended to neutralize had been more powerful than he. This was the false persona whose thoughts Vanyel had skimmed, the madman who interpreted everything as an attack or a threat to himself.
At this point the stranger had still not known that he'd caught Vanyel; he had only thought that Withen's house-mage was far more skilled than he had guessed. It wasn't until Vanyel actually came into his line-of-sight that he had realized who and what had caught him.
That had been the spark of recognition Vanyel had seen. After that, the man buried himself even deeper beneath the false persona, deciding to fall back on his secondary plan.
That involved getting inside Forst Reach itself-and Vanyel played right into his hands by taking him to Father Tyler.
He'd waited for Vanyel to probe him more carefully, and had been relieved when Van was too preoccupied to see if there was anything behind the persona-screen. That made his job all the easier.
He had disposed of Father Tyler, and had gone looking for Treesa or Withen. He'd found out where they were by the simple expedient of asking a servant. Then he'd gone hunting.
The final thought Vanyel read as the mage prepared to launch the leech-blade at Treesa was that his master would be very pleased.
That was, maddeningly, all.
Savil tried to Read farther into the past than the moment of the attack, but once he was off Forst Reach lands, the mage had been screened and shielded, and there was nothing there to be Read. There was no image in the mage's mind connected with this “master”; he'd never seen the unknown mage in person. The “master” had only given him his orders, then given him the means to carry them out - he had set up the disguise-persona, had screened his servant against detection and back-Reading while off the Forst Reach lands, and had constructed the twin leech-blades for him.
The mage had only been a tool in the hands of someone bigger.
Vanyel shook off his disappointment, and began gently disengaging himself from the spell. Gradually the frozen scene faded from Mage-Sight and ordinary sight; then, with an abrupt, gut-wrenching shudder, it vanished completely, and Vanyel was back in the present, with a numb behind, and far too many unanswered questions.
He got up, breaking the circle, and stretched. He stood staring at the tree just in front of him for a while, trying to get everything he'd learned and everything he hadn't learned sorted out. When he turned around, Starwind was staring at him, a slight frown on his lips.
“You do realize what this attack means, do you not?” he said to Vanyel. “That you were vulnerable to the leech-blade was the purest accident; if you had been warded against magic the thing would have had no purchase upon you. Nevertheless, you were the target; the mage recognized you and knew that. He was to destroy you by indirect means, by destroying those you love. The one who sent him does not want to confront you - but does want you eliminated. This time the targets were to be Lady Treesa, Lord Withen, or both - hence the two blades.”
“The protections I put on them won't hold against direct attacks,” Savil admitted unhappily. “I can't stop an assassin. I don't think this is going to end with one attack, either, not with what I picked up. Van, I don't know what to say.”
Vanyel sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. “It's nothing I haven't anticipated, Savil. That's always been my worst fear, you know that. But if there is somebody, some powerful enemy of mine out there-where has he been all this time? What does he really want? And is he just my enemy, or is he Valdemar's enemy as well?”
Moondance stretched as Starwind clasped his shoulders and rubbed them absently. “This comes as quite a surprise to us as well, Wingbrother. We are reclusive, yes, but there are still signs of such a mage as this “master” seems to be which we should have detected long before this.”
Vanyel offered Savil his hands to pull her to her feet. “Except that you have a peculiar blind spot, my friends,” Savil, said, accepting the aid. “You never look outside your own territory. Even the Shin'a'in Clans work together, but you don't; each of your Clans operates on its own. That's your strength, but that's also your weakness.”
“Strength or weakness, it matters not,” Starwind said shortly. “The question is, how is Vanyel to ensure the continued safety of his parents? As you have pointed out, Wingsister, this is not going stop at one attack.”
“There's only one thing I can do,” Vanyel said. “Since I can't be where they are -”
“Get them to move to where you are.” Savil shook her head. “I don't know, Van. That may be harder than getting yourself transferred to Forst Reach.”
“That may be,” Vanyel said grimly, “But it has to be done.”
Dinner was a cold lump in Vanyel's stomach, and his weariness made the lamplight seem harsher than it really was.
“. . . . I have no choice but to insist on this, Father,” Vanyel concluded, clasping his hands around his ale mug, and staring at the surface of the table. “I know you never want to leave Forst Reach - and the gods know you never asked to have a Herald-Mage for a son. I'm asking this because I have to. I can't protect you, Savil can't protect you, Randale can't afford to keep a Herald here full-time to keep you safe; there aren't enough of them, and nothing less would do it. You could hire all the guards you wanted to; none of them would do any good against a mage. Hire a mage, and whoever this is will send a better one. This enemy of mine knows me very well, Father. If you or Mother died because of what I am - I - I'd never get over it.” He looked up; at Withen's troubled face, and at Treesa's frightened one. “There's no help for it, Father. You'll have to take up the Council seat for this district and move to Haven. Everyone would be glad to see you in it, and Lord Enderby never wanted it in the first place. You'd do a good job, and the Council could use your experience.”
Treesa sighed happily and lost her fear instantly; she had wanted to move to Haven for years, ever since the last of her children wedded. “Oh, Withen,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “You must! I've hoped for this for so long-”
Withen winced. “I think you mean you've hoped for a reason to make me go to the capital, and not that the reason would be that we're in danger otherwise!”
Treesa pouted. She'd recovered very quickly, showing a resilience that Moondance called “remarkable.” “Of course that's what I meant! Withen, for all that you like to pretend that you're a plain and simple man, you've been running not only Forst Reach, but most of the county as well. And you very well know it. When something goes wrong, where's the first keep they go to? Here, of course. And it isn't to ask advice of Mekeal! I think Van is right; I think you'd make a fine Councillor.”