Magic's Pawn

the storm last night gave you a headache.'

'But - '

'It's important,' Tylendel coaxed. 'Really, it is. More important than that history lesson. If you're behind, I'll coach you. Please?'

It didn't take much encouragement from Tylendel to get him to do what he already wanted to do; lessons were hardly as attractive as more of Tylendel's company. Here he wasn't going to be hurt. Here - someone cared for him. It was as heady as a little too much wine, only without the hangover.

Vanyel closed the door to his room, then turned an expectant face toward his lover, poised with one hand still on the latch.

Tylendel stretched lazily, reaching for the ceiling with his head tilted back. Then he dropped his arms, rose from his seat on the bed, and walked over to put his hand behind Vanyel's shoulder.

'There's somebody I want you to meet,' he said, gently pushing Vanyel in the direction of the room's outside door.

'But - ' Vanyel protested weakly, 'I thought - '

'You're awfully fond of that word 'but,' love,' Tylen-del chuckled. 'What does it take to get you to say something else?'

He opened the door, still without enlightening Vanyel as to the reason why he was going to introduce Vanyel to someone after Savil had just got done telling them both that they were to keep the relationship a secret -

 - and Tylendel had agreed with her.

Vanyel started to protest again, realized that the only thing he could think of to say was 'but,' and subsided, as Tylendel guided him out the door to the gardens beyond.

'You see that bridge?' Tylendel pointed northward to the first of the two bridges crossing the Terilee River on the Palace grounds. 'And that stand of pines on the other side?'

Vanyel nodded; it was quite a healthy grove, in fact, and the trees extended a good distance back into the Field. They were tall, very thick, and a deep green that was almost black, with huge branches that drooped beneath their own weight until they touched the ground.

'You count to fifty after you see me go in there, then you follow,' Tylendel ordered. 'In case anybody happens to come by, though, or looks out a window, you'd better try your hand at acting the arrogant little prig.'

Vanyel nodded again; completely mystified, but willing to go along with about anything that Tylendel wanted. He posed himself carefully, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, attempting to look as if he were simply idling about in the gardens, while Tylendel sauntered off.

This is going to be harder than it was before, he thought somberly, trying to look anywhere except after Tylendel. I didn’t have anything to lose, before. Now I have everything to lose if I slip. He closed his eyes, and turned his face up to the sun, as if he were savoring the warmth. But if I don't slip - oh, gods, whichever one of you is responsible for this - it's worth anything. I swear, it's worth anything you ask of me!

He chanced a sideways glance across the river; Tylendel was only just reaching the pine grove. He looked away, strolled over to a stand of daylilies, admired them for a moment, then glanced across the river again. Tylendel's blond hair gleamed against the dark boughs like a tangled skein of spun sunlight, then vanished as the branches closed behind him.

Vanyel transferred his admiration to a bed of rose vines, languidly bending to inhale their perfume, all the while counting to the requisite fifty. He had no sooner reached the required number, though, when a giggling flock of his admirers rounded a hedge, saw him, and altered their course to intersect with his.

Oh, no! he thought, dismayed, and looked surreptitiously about for an escape route, but saw no way to avoid them. Sighing, he resigned himself to the inevitable, and waited for their arrival.

'Vanyel, what are you doing out here?' asked slim, barely-adolescent Jillian, batting her sandy lashes at him. 'Aren't you supposed to be at lessons?'

Vanyel covered a wince. It would have to be Jillian. No common sense, and the moral fiber of a hound in heat. And after me with all the dedication you’d see in a hawk stooping on a pigeon. Lord. I hope her father marries her off quick, or she 'II be sleeping her way around the Court before long.

But he smiled at her, a smile with a calculated amount of pain in it. 'A rotten headache, pretty one. It took me last night when the storm came in, and I cannot be rid of it. I tried sleeping in, but - ' he shrugged. 'My aunt suggested I take a long walk.''

The entire covey giggled in near-unison. 'Suggested with a stick, I'll bet,' dark Kertire said sardonically, squinting into the sunlight. 'Sour Savil. Well, we'll walk with you then, and keep you from being bored,'

Vanyel bit his lip in vexation and thought quickly. 'She suggested my course, as well,' he told them, grimacing.

'To the end of Companion's Field and back. And I have no doubt she's watching from her window.'

He pouted at them. 'Much as I would adore your company, my pretties, I rather doubt those slippers you're wearing are equal to a hike across a field full of - er - '

'Horseturds,' said Jesalis inelegantly, wrinkling her nose and tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. 'Bother. No, you're right,' she continued, sticking her foot out a little, and surveying the embroidered rose-satin slipper on it with regret. 'I just finished the embroidery on these and got them back from the cobbler; I don't want them spoiled, and they would be before we'd gotten half across.' The others murmured similar sentiments as their faces fell. 'We're never going to forgive you for deserting us, Vanyel.'

'Now that's unfair,' he exclaimed, assuming a crushed expression. 'Blaming me for