Shroud of Eternity

CHAPTER 11

Surrounded by the intimidating members of the ruling council, Bannon felt small and out of place in the banquet hall.

He had seen Nicci do astonishing things with her gift, and he knew Nathan’s potential. Those two had accepted him as a close companion, whether or not he had magic. He had become an important part of their group, and he certainly pulled his weight. But here in a grand city full of other gifted people, he felt insecure like when he had been a lonely boy on Chiriya Island. He glanced at Amos, Brock, and Jed sitting near him. Even they had magical skill, as they had demonstrated while camping out on the plain, but Bannon felt that maybe he would fit in better with young men his own age.

As the meal continued, he lowered his voice and leaned close to Amos. “The sovrena and the wizard commander are really your parents?”

The three were preoccupied with their own conversation, but Amos lifted his dark eyebrows and turned to their guest. “Yes, and that means I can do whatever I want. You like your quarters?”

“Yes! They’re the finest quarters I’ve ever stayed in.”

Jed picked up a decanter and filled his goblet with dark red wine, then refilled Bannon’s, although the young man had sipped only about a third of it. The wine was strong and made him feel light-headed.

“It’s good wine too—bloodwine,” Jed said.

Bannon hesitated before taking another sip. “Bloodwine? You mean, made from blood?”

The young men chuckled in unison. “Not made from blood! The vines are watered with the blood of slaves. It gives the grapes a richness and body unlike any other vintage.” Amos drank a long gulp, wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “You can definitely taste the difference.”

A little nauseated, Bannon took only a small sip.

The young men also ate plump olives from a bowl in front of them, and Bannon wondered if those were from the groves fertilized with the bodies of dead slaves. Amos spat out a pit, rolled it between his fingertips, then tossed it onto the floor. “Living under the shroud for so many centuries, we had to make use of every possible resource. And slaves were, of course, expendable.”

Bannon took a bite of one of the fruit-studded rolls, not wanting to ask what sort of sacrifices had gone into growing the grains or making the flour. “You must have a lot of slaves,” he muttered, thinking of how Ian had been taken by slavers so long ago.

“They replenish themselves because they’re allowed to breed,” Amos said. “Under the shroud, the normal course of time flowed around the city, bypassing the gifted nobles—like my parents, and myself—and so we did not age. Our numbers remain constant, while the slaves grow old and die, or are killed in accidents.”

“Or die from diseases,” Brock added.

“Some of them run away, every time the shroud goes down,” Jed muttered, earning a glare from Amos. “The mountain towns must have hundreds of escaped slaves.”

“Slaves are encouraged to reproduce to maintain their numbers. We’re generous and let them choose whatever mates they like,” Brock picked up the story as he mopped up meat juice on his place with a roll. “And for the past ten years or so, we have another source for slaves, now that trade opened again with the outside world.”

“And you’re sure you don’t have the gift, Bannon?” Amos asked with a frown.

The young man didn’t want to admit that he could neither work spells nor release any magic. “I’m not a wizard, if that’s what you mean, but doesn’t everyone have at least some small hint of the gift? At least that’s what wizard Nathan said, since all of the pristinely ungifted departed.”

Jed snorted around a mouthful of buttered tubers. “Sounds to me like your Nathan is no longer a wizard himself, so he’s not particularly useful either.”

“He is still a wizard,” Bannon said defensively. “He lived a thousand years and studied a great deal of knowledge. Many enemies have learned not to underestimate him. Or me.” He touched his side, where he always kept Sturdy.

Amused, Amos lifted his goblet of bloodwine. “A toast to our new friend, Bannon Farmer, and all the adventures he has had.”

The others raised their cups, happy for the excuse to drink deeply, but it seemed that they were laughing at him. Bannon was forced to swallow more of the wine. It left a nice warmth inside his mouth and down his throat, and he tried not to think of the slaves’ blood that had watered the grapes.

“I can tell you more about what we’ve done,” he said, “how we saved the great Cliffwall archive and all the knowledge there.” He nodded, saw he had their attention. Something deep inside him wanted to impress these young men.

“Cliffwall? Never heard of it,” Amos said.

“One of the greatest archives of magical lore in the world. I helped Nathan and Nicci keep it safe.”

Brock added, “And what could you do with complex magical lore if you don’t have the gift?”

“I didn’t save Cliffwall for me, but because it needed to be done. And I fought my own battles, too. I might not have the gift, but I helped Nicci destroy the Lifedrinker, and I also fought against the vicious forest women created by Victoria.” He shuddered to think of the lovely Audrey, Laurel, and Sage. “They were so beautiful, but poisonous and deadly.”

Amos chuckled. “Keeper’s crotch, sounds like one of the silk yaxen!” He looked over at Brock. “The one I warned you about.”

The young man’s ruddy complexion grew darker as he blushed. “She only scratched me, but she wanted to do much more.”

“She isn’t there any longer. The dacha disposed of her,” said Jed. “Ruth … her name was Ruth.”

“Ruthless, more like it,” Amos added with a snort.

Brooding, Brock used his knife to cut into his slice of meat.

Bannon continued to recount his adventures. “When the selka attacked us on our ship, I killed twenty of them with my sword—terrible, bloodthirsty creatures. They slaughtered every sailor aboard the Wavewalker.”

“But you conveniently survived,” Amos said.

“I survived. But there was nothing convenient about it.”

He was about to launch into a recounting of his battles with the Norukai slavers at Renda Bay, but the other three did not seem interested. He faltered in his telling. “And … well, there were many other adventures and battles. I’ll tell you about them some other time.”

Bannon and his companions had traveled long and hard to reach this important destination. He reminded himself he was in a fabulous city now, a place of legends, dining with the greatest wizards in the entire world. He had extravagant guest quarters, fine new clothes, and a feast unlike anything he had ever experienced. It wasn’t so bad after all.

“I wonder if your cooks know any good recipes for cabbage rolls?” he asked. “We used to grow cabbage on Chiriya.”

“We grow cabbage here,” Jed said. “It’s slave food. And also fed to the yaxen.”

Bannon felt belittled. “Then I don’t suppose I need to share the recipes.”

Amos laughed at his troubled expression, clapped a congenial hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bannon—you’re our new friend. We’ll have lots to do together, and we’ll take care of you. Just stick with us. Ildakar has remained unchanged for countless centuries.”

He found that hard to believe. “Nothing new in all that time?”

“Once you’ve achieved a perfect society, why should you change?” Amos raised his goblet again. “To Ildakar!”

The other boys agreed, making the toast a resounding call. “To Ildakar!” Bannon drank more, surprised to discover that he had emptied his wineglass.

Jed refilled it again.

“Our new friend is much too nervous and reticent,” Amos said. “Bloodwine will loosen him up. Then we can show him the greatest pleasures in Ildakar.”

“Would you like that, Bannon Farmer?” Brock asked.

He felt intimidated at the prospect of the “greatest pleasures,” not sure what his friends might mean, but he didn’t dare decline the offer. Nicci and Nathan would be preoccupied with the duma members for some time, maybe days or weeks, as he tried to get his gift back. Bannon would be left out of all their important work.

He smiled at Amos and his two companions and accepted their invitation. “Yes, I’d like that.”