"But the pendant-I thought-"
"I do not know why Aradia allows you to wear it," Wulfston said. "Very few have earned the right to swear fealty to Aradia-and you most certainly have not."
"Wulfston, exactly what claim does Aradia make on me? Does she think she can make a slave of me?"
"You are like a member of a captured army-you cannot be trusted, and you must be controlled. The ruler who has captured you claims you until you prove your worth and loyalty. Aradia may do with you whatever she pleases -including taking your life."
"Doesn't she hold that right over all her people?" asked Lenardo.
"She holds that power. So do I. But neither of us has the right to take the life of a freeman without cause. Aradia is no tyrant like your emperor."
Lenardo let that pass to ask, "Then I may earn my freedom?"
"Earn Aradia's trust, and give her your loyalty."
As Lenardo pondered the problems inherent in such acts, they were interrupted by the appearance of a woman with a tray of food. She opened the door with one hand and at Wulfston's instruction set the tray on a small table. Lenardo watched, Reading her as she left. She was no Adept, and the uppermost thought in her mind was that the cook had scolded her for scalding a pan of milk that morning. Yet she opened the door as easily as Aradia or Wulfston. Perhaps Wulfston had removed the locking device and would reset it when he left. Could I distract his attention and make him forget?
There were two trenchers on the tray, but only one goblet and a pitcher of wine. A joint of meat steamed on a platter, surrounded by leeks and potatoes, all cooked. A bowl held grapes and apples, and that was all.
"I'll join you, if you don't mind," said Wulfston, setting two stools at the'table. "I haven't eaten yet today."
Lenardo looked at the meat and overcooked vegetables and wondered if he was really hungry. Fresh, crisp bread and cheese, with a salad-that would have been his choice.
The great chunk of hot meat, dripping juices, was much harder to face than the soup Aradia had brought. Still, there was no choice-his stomach clamored for more than a bit of fruit.
As he seated himself, Wulfston was slicing slabs of meat and placing them on both trenchers. Then he filled the goblet with wine, tasted it, and handed it to Lenardo. At the Reader's hesitation, he said, "It's a very light wine. It doesn't interfere with an Adept's powers, so I wouldn't expect it to affect yours."
Lenardo was satisfied to let Wulfston misinterpret his hesitation, which was actually due to being expected to drink from the same goblet as another person. "No," he replied, "Reading is not affected by a cup or two of wine." He poked at the meat in front of him, swallowing a few morsels as Wulfston ate heartily and cut some more. "Do you have hot food like this every day?" Lenardo asked.
"Mostly plain fare," said Wulfston. "Only at great feasts are there elegant dishes made with exotic spices. Are you used to more complex dishes?"
"No-simpler," said Lenardo. "Readers don't eat meat, and I'm used to raw vegetables."
"Raw?" Wulfston wrinkled his nose. "Well, that's easy enough-but how do you live without meat?" His eyes swept over Lenardo's body. "You're built like a warrior. Where do you get your strength?"
"Eggs, cheese, occasionally fish. It's meat that clogs the digestion and interferes with Reading."
"And meat that gives Adepts their strength," Wulfston mused. Then he shook his head. "No, it can't be just diet."
"What can't be diet?" Lenardo asked.
"The differences in our abilities."
Before Lenardo could ask where Wulfston got such a peculiar idea, there was a sudden crash behind them. The heavy candelabrum had fallen from the stand beside the bed. "How could-T Lenardo began, but Wulfston was already on his feet.
"Nerius!" he exclaimed as a shield hanging above the fireplace went sailing across the room to splinter against the opposite wall. "I must help Aradia."
Lenardo ducked the flying shield. "What's happening?" he asked-too late. Wulfston was already out the door.
Outside he heard a crash and Read a heavy oak table split down the middle. Following Wulfston mentally, he Read him run through the hall, meeting Aradia at the entrance to the tower stairs. "It's getting worse," she said in a worried voice and raced up the winding, treacherous steps.
Wulfston didn't answer but followed Aradia up to a room above Lenardo's, where a frail old man lay in bed, a woman trying to restrain him as his body convulsed, each spasm corresponding to another crash somewhere in the castle.
Lenardo could not Read the man, beyond his physical condition. Another Adept, but one whose powers had gone wild, striking arbitrarily, draining energy from his already depleted body.
Aradia flew to the old man's side. "Father! No, Father, please!"
"He can't hear you," said Wulfston. "You'll have to restrain him again."
"How long?" she murmured, then spread her hands over her father's heaving body and began to concentrate. Slowly the spasms subsided until the old man lay limp, unconscious.
Aradia lifted tear-filled eyes to Wulfston's. "Why can't I heal him? All I can do is stop the attacks-but each time they return more quickly and more severely."
"You're doing everything you can," said Wulfston.
"It isn't enough!" Aradia said angrily. "Why does his body refuse to heal?! It's against nature for it to destroy itself this way."
"Aradia…" Wulfston moved to her side, putting his arms around her, letting her lean on him. Shocked, Lenardo withdrew from Reading any further such a private scene. The sick old man had nothing to do with his chances of escape, and so he had no right to intrude further on the privacy of non-Readers.
As he picked up the fallen candelabrum and replaced the candles, Lenardo suddenly realized that the old man's attack might indeed have given him a chance to escape. The way Wulfston had rushed outHe went to the door and tried to open it. Locked. He curbed a frustrated urge to kick the door and a secondary longing to fling himself down on the bed like a child in a tantrum. Instead, he forced himself to finish his meal, then lay down to rest again. It was, after all, sensible to save his strength, eat and sleep as Wulfston suggested until he built back his reserves. It had taken unusual effort to Read the scene in the upper room-so close, and only a superficial visualization. His powers were badly impaired, and would probably not return to normal until he recovered his physical strength and then performed a fast to rid his system of the effects of the meat diet.
Each day he was detained here was another day he could not search for Galen, and another day for the Adepts the boy was working for to rebuild their forces. He had to get away at the first opportunity-all the more reason to build his strength back as quickly as he could. And his arm was completely healed. He was better off than he might be; surely he would soon find a way to get away from these savages. Meanwhile, if he kept alert, he might Read something to tell him which direction to take in his search for Galen. One thing that would help restore him was sleep.
Lenardo woke to a minor commotion. Two men carried a wooden tub into the room and set it by the fire, along with a vessel of steaming water. Aradia followed them in, carrying an armload of clothing and a small leather case. "Time for a bath and a shave," she told Lenardo. "Then you can try on your new clothes."
The servants left, and Lenardo got up, pulling on his robe as Aradia poured hot water into the tub. What a cumbersome way to take a bath; no wonder the savages went duty most of the time. One thing Lenardo hadn't thought about missing was the convenience of a bath house.
Aradia turned from her task and laughed. "Is it empire custom to put clothes on to bathe?"