Savage Empire

His table was a case lid set across two other boxes. On it were a candle, ink and quills, and a pile of papers, written over in the savage alphabet that Lenardo could not read. There were four messages… no, the same message four times. Lenardo was sure all the papers said the same thing, although Drakonius definitely did not write with the precision of a scribe. He studied it, so he would be able to reproduce it for Aradia.

The Adept called in the man standing guard at his door. "Get the messengers."

Drakonius folded the four papers and sealed them with wax, impressing each with his seal: the dragon's head, the same mark Lenardo bore on his arm. Meanwhile, the guard went to a room where four men were wiling away the time by gaming. They put away their dice at once and came to get the papers. Lenardo carefully noted the names Drakonius told them: Trang, Yolo, Hron, Lilith The last two he had heard before. Aradia had called them her allies.

Lenardo was up at dawn, Reading as he dressed that the three Adepts in the room above his were all alive and all deeply asleep. He wanted to tell Aradia about Drakonius, but he feared to wake her or Wulfston. How long must they sleep to recover?

When he went down to the kitchen for breakfast, though, the cook stared in surprise. "Ye be up early. My lady left orders for a large meal for three at noon. Were ye not working with my lady and Lord Wulfston all yesterday?"

"They were working," he replied. "I was… observing." The cook suspected he was an untrained Adept. How else explain the interest Aradia and Wulfston took in him?

The aroma of baking bread permeated the air, and Lenardo had the pleasure of eating some still warm from the oven, with fresh sweet butter. There were fresh-picked berries this morning with thick cream, and hot cereal.

"Now, lad," said the cook, "I've been feeding my lady and her father before her these many years, and I know a proper diet for… those who need to keep strength up. Ye must learn to eat meat, son-'tis the fastest thing to rebuild your blood."

"I haven't lost any blood," Lenardo replied amiably. "This is the best bread I've ever tasted."

"Nay, don't try to turn me aside with compliments. Ye must eat properly, or ye'll never learn… what 'tis ye've come here to learn," he ended conspiratorially.

"Why don't we let the Lady Aradia judge that?" Lenardo suggested. "She and Lord Wulfston will certainly do justice to your fine dishes. I'll take the meal up to them at noon, if you don't mind."

Carrying the heavily laden tray up the twisted stairs to the tower room was not easy, and once at the top, Lenardo wondered what he ought to do. Both Aradia and Wulfston were still in deep, motionless sleep, while Nerius…

Interesting. The old Adept lay in the same position, on • his back, head straight on the pillow… but his arms had moved. His hands were clasped, not tightly, just relaxed across his rib cage.

Setting the tray down, Lenardo went to the bed to Read Nerius deeply. He found two areas of the man's body hot with the painless flame of Adept healing: the portion of his brain from which the tumor had been removed, and the area beneath his breastbone, where Lenardo perforce had badly bruised him. He had gone from unconsciousness to healing sleep-by himself? Or had Aradia wakened in the night and done it?

There was still some distortion of Nerius' brain where the tumor had been-permanent damage, Lenardo judged; but nothing like the horrible compression of the growth. Only time would tell the effect of the lingering damage.

Aradia's father already looked better. His skin still had the pallor of someone who had not been out of doors for many months, but there was a hint of healthy color in his cheeks, lips, and fingernails. His face was relaxed but no longer slack; he looked more like a healthy man sleeping than like the dying man he had appeared yesterday.

Aradia still looked exhausted, the dark smudges back under her eyes, but the transparent look was gone. No sooner did Lenardo begin to Read her physical state, though, than she woke with a start, crying out, "Father!"

"He's much better," Lenardo quickly assured her. "Just look at him."

Aradia sat up cautiously and looked at Nerius. "Did you move his hands?"

"No-he's in healing sleep. I've already Read him."

"He did it himself! And he moved!" Pure joy lighted her eyes. "Oh, Lenardo, Father hasn't moved by himself, except for convulsions, since midwinter! He's going to be all right!"

"He's going to live," cautioned Lenardo. "Please… don't get your hopes up that he will recover fully. I cannot promise that."

"I don't ask it," she replied, but her elation told him she expected it. "We must let him sleep and recover now. I smell food, and I'm ravenous. Wulfston," she said as she saw the young Adept still sound asleep. "I must wake him."

"Don't get up," said Lenardo. "I'll wake him."