Shadows Return - Lynn Flewelling [62]
So that’s why my blood was so important! If Yhakobin could cure the Overlord’s son, then he’d probably be the most favored man in Plenimar. “Why isn’t Ilban at court in Benshâl?”
“I suppose it’s a mark of how important he is that the Overlord lets him potter about down here in the country. They are on very good terms. His Majesty visits occasionally.”
“You’ve seen the Overlord?”
“Yes. A powerful and ambitious man.”
Alec tucked that information away. “You’re sure alchemy isn’t necromancy, using blood and all that?”
“Oh yes! The master despises necromancers even more than he detests wizards.” Khenir looked around, making sure the guards were still by the gate at the far end of the garden. “He also worries about the hold they have on the Overlord. They don’t practice openly in most parts of the country, but he keeps some of the most powerful at court, and Ilban thinks he relies on them far too much. It’s rumored that he uses them against his own people, just as his father before him. Despite what you Skalans think, the Plenimaran people have no love for necromancy. It’s a blight on the land, and there are those who say that the young heir’s illness is a punishment from the Immortals.”
Alec considered this as he watched the fish nudging about among the plants, looking for more crumbs. His only experience of Plenimarans before now had been at the hands of their soldiers and necromancers, but if the people were not all like that—if they hated their ruler and his filthy minions—then maybe he could find help of some sort when he escaped.
“He said that I’m important in some way, because of who my mother’s people are.”
“Oh? What clan are you?”
“Hâzadriëlfaie.”
Khenir looked at him in surprise. “Those who went north? I’ve never heard of them mixing with any outsiders. Some even say they all died years ago.”
“I never knew my mother’s people, and I don’t know how she met my father. He never told me anything except that she was dead. But later I found out that, after I was born, he took me away before her people could kill me, as they do all ya’shel. They murdered her, though, before my father could save her.”
“That’s very sad. I’m sorry.”
“Well, it’s not like I remember her. I didn’t know anything about her until—” He hesitated, but damn it, he was sick of being so guarded with the only person here who’d shown him any kindness. “Ireya. Her name was Ireya ä Shaar. An oracle showed her to me. That’s all I know, really.” Except that she died to save my father’s life. And mine.
“Then you don’t even know where her people are?”
“Not exactly. The Hâzadriëlfaie kill outsiders on sight, so no one goes near their lands. Those who try don’t come back.”
“That must be difficult, not knowing the ’faie part of your family, when you resemble them so much.”
Alec shrugged. “It doesn’t matter much to me. Like I said, I never knew about them.”
That was a lie, of course. Ever since he’d been given that vision of his mother, he’d dreamed often of her face and the anguished look in her eyes as she’d placed her infant son in his father’s arms. He’d thought a lot about certain passes in the Ironheart foothills, too—places his father had steered clear of. Everyone around Kerry knew the legends about the ’faie who lived somewhere beyond Ravensfell Pass, though most thought they were just a legend. But all the old stories told around tavern fires spoke of a dark and dangerous folk who killed unwary hunters who strayed too close to their borders.
“Do you know what Yhakobin wants with me?” he asked, tossing another crumb to the fish.
“As I said, Alec, I only do what I’m told. He does not confide in me.” Khenir stood with his face to the sun again, eyes closed and smiling now, as if he’d found refuge in better thoughts.
Seeing him like that, Alec suddenly found