Once again Auntie Splendance floated before us in a shining light with her pink robes flowing out behind her, Impi at her side and the female mages of the family clustered around her. Was it my imagination or did Blazeann seem to be leaning very close? The peasants followed behind in their long robes, singing Blessing hymns with only slightly less vigour than they had the day before. Priest Zostre kept time for them.
As Lucient and I followed the other worshippers from field to field, he told me all about his struggles with Chatoyant, which made it hard to feel any sense of holiness. Twice she had drugged him with Rampant and, using a man’s inability to control his own prick, had mounted him and later claimed on the strength of these two successful couplings that he adored her. Blazeann had laughed when Lucient told her he’d been forced, and Impi had told him to show some backbone.
“She blindfolded me, stuffed a scarf in my mouth and treated me as if I was just a prick,” he whispered. “She feels like rubber to touch.”
He seemed obsessed with the idea that Blazeann would force him to become Chatoyant’s consort. I told him that I couldn’t see why Chatoyant would want that.
When Lucient became Blazeann’s Avunculus, as seemed inevitable as the only male mage Splendance had birthed, he was likely to obey Blazeann without question and without needing a second woman to manage him. As for Chatoyant having only managed to get one child so far, and that a mere boy—while pair bonding with a cousin might give her a better chance of birthing a mage, it wouldn’t improve her fertility any.
“She’s a big bully. You need to stand up to her,” I said, knowing full well as I said it that Lucient would never be able to. The horribleness of his story gave me a dull ache in the gut. As a mage he wasn’t protected by Shola’s pact, and as a mere man he could not hope to overpower and drive away a woman mage. Toy would always be the stronger in terms of sheer brute magic.
“She’ll be after me tonight, you wait and see,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Promise you’ll stay in my room tonight.”
“Of course I will,” I said, squeezing his hand. I was protected by Shola’s pact, and it was bad manners and bad luck to disrupt a Blessing affair. Manners are an oddly powerful shield in our civilised world.
“Look how put out Blazeann looks at how well our Matriarch is doing,” I said, to distract him.
“She does, doesn’t she? And I’ve already seen Glisten saying something nasty to Toy about spreading baseless gossip,” he said in a more cheerful voice.
He didn’t know the combination to Toy’s treasure box, or anyone who might know, so I concentrated on wheedling some information about Klea out of him. He and Klea were only a year apart and had been close as children. I’d hoped he could give me some hint about what Klea’s letter related to, but he didn’t know anything about her life in Crystalline. They’d hardly communicated at all since she’d left home. He missed her.
“But she would go,” he said sadly. “Terrified that Auntie Flara would regain control of the family and that Radiant would come back. They treated her dreadfully.”
“How?” I prompted when he stopped talking.
“Flara’s way. Toy’s way, too. Always forcing people to do things they don’t want. Best not to talk about it. Wish Klea would come back. She’d fix Toy.”
And he went back to dwelling on his own situation. I was hard pressed to cheer him up again.
Lady Splendance was in excellent form the whole day, blessing the farm animals and the village babies with great spirituality and focus. At the end of the day, we finished our tour of the estate in one of the more distant villages—not the one where the inn had been burned down, I noticed. We watched children wreathed in garlands made from last year’s grain harvest dancing their funny little jumping dance to make the crops grow. Lady Splendance cooed loudly over their sweetness. Then it was into the carriages and back to the house to change into our best robes for the great Blessing Feast.
THE BOTTOM OF the Eyrie had been cleared and tables set out for everyone, villagers included. Blessing night was the night when mages and mundanes mingled most freely. Many mages felt that breeding with the mundanes refreshed the bloodlines of the great families. Smug mages would accept as many flowers as they could from enthusiastic mundanes, who were always eager to impress with their love skills in the hope of being whisked away to service in the city, or to achieve the blessing of a child. A child who turned out to be a mage would become the Ward of the Empress, to be taken into paid Imperial service when they came of age. A mage could win all kinds of further patronage by sitting in the Great Council that approved the Empress’s policies—or becoming the consort of a great lady, as Impi had. Even a mage from a very humble lineage would be able to keep her mother and family in comfort for the rest of their days.
A fire had been built on the lawn in front of the Eyrie, and a bullock and a pig were being spit-roasted under the anxious supervision of Tane. Later the fire would be built up into a huge blaze. Everyone would dance round it to celebrate the renewal of Shola’s Pact. The villagers would blow grain alcohol from their mouths into the fire, creating huge plumes of flame; this was actually an offering to Grain Boy from the old peasant religion, but the nobles always pretended not to know.
Given the tremendous difference in power, there was always the potential for things to turn nasty between mage and mundane. You heard horrible stories of rape and abuse. But never here: here, Elder mages such as Splendance, Glisten and Impi took good care to make sure no mundane was mistreated by a mage. Lord Impavidus was the result of a Blessing Feast mating between a mundane and mage, and he seemed to have some sympathy for the limitations mundanes faced.
Sadly I would again be sleeping alone, though it looked like I would be doing it on the hard couch in Lucient’s room. Perhaps we could play some checkers and make a really wild night of it.
Since this was the Blessing feast, it was all meat, meat, meat. Quite apart from the risk of pregnancy, if the truth be told I’d never been that fond of red meat. It always sat heavy on my stomach. Give me a spinach-and-cheese pastry any time. But I made a show of piling my plate with plenty of roast beef, nibbling a little whenever Lumina or Glisten was looking and slipping the rest under the table to Katti and a couple of her offspring. The only other thing to eat was bread and butter. So I drank wine, and on my not very full stomach, it went right to my head. Soon I was trying to drag Lucient outside to dance around the fire. Lucient refused. He was deep in a conversation about the local newts with Uncle Five. Apparently they had a fascinating vestigial fourth toe. I ask you!
I had to content myself with singing and clapping.
“Not dancing?” The voice of Hagen Stellason came suavely in my ear. “Perhaps you’d let me remedy that.”
“You surprise me,” I said, going for an equally suave tone. “You seemed a little displeased with me last night. And I was not thrilled to be called a fool.”
“My deepest apologies. I’m not as brave as you in the face of large animals and I fear I lost my head.” Hagen sat down beside me and crossed his legs. “I thought to partner you in a dance by way of a peace offering, but perhaps the conversation is too exciting. Hmm, yes, newts. Uncle Five is always so enthralling. So much to know about them, don’t you think? How could I possibly dare to think you might be enticed away?”