Magic's Price

“You give me too much credit, lover,” Vanyel said quietly. “I'm as prone to being a fool as anyone else. And just now, I'm a very sore fool. Could I possibly get you to use those talented hands of yours to unknot my shoulders?”

“And give me a chance to have my hands on you?” Stef grinned. “Of course you could, and I will. Gladly.”

Vanyel finished off his wine in a single gulp, peeled off his tunic, kicked off his boots, and sagged back into his chair. Stefen got up and moved around behind him, and began kneading his shoulders with steady, firm pressure.

“What's wrong, Van?” he asked. “You just got back with everything the King asked you for and more.”

“Sometimes I feel like everything I've done is useless,” Vanyel said dispiritedly. “Randi is going to be dead before the year's out, every enemy Valdemar has will take that as a signal to strike while Treven is so young, and a good half the treaties we made will fall apart, because they were made with Randale and not Trev. Karse is likely to declare holy war on us any day. The West is full of half-mad mage-born, any one of whom might be another Krebain, but with wider plans. I have a personal enemy out there somewhere; I don't know who or why, only that he, she, or it is a mage.”

Stefen dug his thumbs into Vanyel's shoulders a little harder and tried to think of things to say that would make a difference. “Randale is the mind behind the Crown, but about half of the work is being done by Trev and the Council,” he offered. “Trev's bright, especially on short-term planning, and Randale's doing long-range planning that ought to hold good for the next five years. Trev's a little too idealistic, maybe, but he'll get that knocked out of him soon enough - and Jisa is practical enough for two. They'll be all right.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Vanyel asked suddenly, after a long silence.

“I'm right there whenever Randale is working, and I'm beginning to be able to listen to what's going on while I'm in trance.” Stefen was rather proud of that. It wasn't much compared with the kinds of things Vanyel could do, but it was more than he'd been able to manage before Van's trip.

“That's pretty impressive,” Vanyel told him, without even a trace of patronization. “Bards usually don't have a Gift that requires being in trance, and I'm surprised you learned how to manage that on your own. What about Jisa and Trev?”

“I spent a lot of time with them after you'd gone,” Stef replied, working on Van's neck, flexing and stroking as though he were playing an instrument. The muscles were very stiff, so tight they were like rope under tension, and Stef had no doubt they were giving Van a headache of monumental proportions. “With Jisa especially. The Seneschal is the only one who doesn't underestimate her, and he likes it that way.”

“A very wise lady,” Vanyel said, his voice a little muffled. “Did you know she's my daughter, and not Randi's?”

It should have been a shock. Somehow it wasn't. “No. But it makes sense. She's very like you, you know.” He thought about the situation for a moment. “Obviously Randale must know; I mean, a Healer like Shavri can prevent any pregnancy she cares to, so it wasn't an accident, which means she wanted Jisa. ...”

“Shavri was desperate for a child, and the two of them asked me to help. I've never told anyone but you, not even my parents,” Van replied. “I have three other children, but the only one I ever see is Brightstar, the boy Starwind and Moondance are raising. The others are a mage-Gifted girl one of the other Tayledras has, named Featherfire, and a girl two of Lissa's retired shaych Guards are raising, who has no Gifts at all so far as I can tell.”

Stefen wasn't sure how he should be feeling about these revelations. “Why?” he asked finally. “I mean, why did you do it? I can see why Shavri would have asked you, rather than somebody else, but why the others?”

Vanyel sighed, and flexed his shoulders. “For pretty much the same reasons as Shavri had. People I knew and cared for wanted a child, but for one reason or another couldn't produce one without outside help. Featherfire's mother isn't shaych, but there wasn't a single Tayledras male she felt the right way about to have a child with. She had twins; Brightstar is Feather's brother.”

Stef recalled all the fantasies he'd had about his parentage, how he'd never known who even his mother was. “Do you ever wish you'd - I don't know, had more of a hand in their raising?” He worked his thumbs into the nape of Vanyel's neck, with the silky hair covering both hands. “I know they've got parents who really want them, but -”

“That's just it; they have parents who really want them,” Van replied. “Ah, that's it, that's the worst of the aches, right there. I see what 'Fandes means about musicians having talented hands. Really, love, the only reason Brightstar and Jisa know I'm their father is that it's necessary for them to know. Brightstar evidently has all my Gifts; Jisa could get backwash from a magical attack on me, because she has Mage-Gift in potential. They have to be prepared. Feather-fire is so like her mother they could be twins, and Arven doesn't even carry potential as far as I was able to check. They all know who their real parents are - the ones who love them.”

He chuckled then. “What's funny?” Stef asked.