Storm Breaking

'That's easy for you to say, priest,' Tremane replied feelingly. 'You aren't in my head!' He was pale and sweating, and his pupils were so wide that there was scarcely any iris showing.

But Janas had already gone to the door and had called for Tremane's aides. 'The Duke is not feeling well,' he told them. 'He needs to be taken to his bed and allowed to sleep. I think it would be wise to cancel any appointments he has for the rest of the day.'

Both aides looked alarmed at the state of their leader, and one put a hand on the hilt of his weapon and cast a doubtful glance at Janas, suspecting, perhaps, that the priest had somehow poisoned the Duke or inflicted a disease on him.

'It's all right,' Tremane reassured them. 'I think I've just been overworking. It's nothing serious.'

As if that had been a coded phrase to tell the aides that nothing the visitors had done had caused his condition, both aides relaxed immediately and went to assist their leader to stand. 'You know that the Healers have been warning you about overworking yourself,' one of them scolded the Duke in a whisper that the foreigners were probably not supposed to hear. This was an older man, the Duke's age or even a few years senior to him, and the aide clearly considered it his responsibility to take Tremane to task. 'Now look what's happened to you! You can't work yourself half to death and not expect to pay for it!'

'I'll be all right, I just need to sleep,' the Duke said vaguely, and although he was not paying a great deal of attention to his surroundings or his visitors, he no longer seemed quite so disoriented, at least to Elspeth. it seemed more as if he had focused his attention inward, in a state of partial trance.

His two aides helped him into the other room, and Janas nodded at the door. Taking the hint, Elspeth and Darkwind rose and followed the priest out.

'Don't you need to be with him, to give him some kind of instruction?' Darkwind asked anxiously as they made their way along the cold corridors back to their own quarters.

The old man shook his head; he still had that air of great self-satisfaction. 'No, he already has the instruction; that was what I was giving him at the beginning. It's all there for him to use, he just needs to sort things out while he sleeps. Don't worry—we've been doing things this way for centuries, not just with our monarchs, but with priests whose earth-sense is also latent. But I must say, this is probably the most successful ritual I have ever done!' He rubbed his hands together with unconcealed glee. 'Now we'll have to get word across the country what has happened, plan for a coronation, find something like a crown—oh, there are a hundred arrangements we'll have to make.'

He shook his head, interrupting himself, as they reached the door of their quarters. 'I hope you won't think me rude, but I am going to have to leave immediately. There is just too much I have to do, and not a great deal of time to do it in. We'll be sending important people here soon, as liaisons with our new monarch. In the meantime, I think I can count on both of you to help him through the next day or two.'

'I can certainly help explain what he is feeling,' Elspeth replied, but with a little doubt, opening the door and waving him inside ahead of her. 'I suspect it might be like the first time I was—ah— blessed with Mindspeech.'

'Exactly, exactly!' Janas said, as he gathered up his old robe and made it into a neat bundle. Then he looked down in confusion at the clothing he was wearing, and for a moment, certainty was replaced with uncertainty. 'Ah —I—'

'Consider the new vestments a gift from the Alliance,' Darkwind said, divining his question before he could ask it. 'And please feel free to approach us if any of your other liaisons might need similar outfitting.'

Janas turned, taking his hand and shaking it with gratitude. 'Thank you, thank you for all your help!' he said, brimming with so much effervescent pleasure that Elspeth could not help but smile back at him. ''Now, I really must be off, there is absolutely not a moment to waste!'

He hurried to open the door to the hallway; fortunately, one of the sentries at the door intercepted him and offered to find an aide to escort him out. He accepted absently as he pulled his shabby cloak on over his new finery, and the last that Elspeth saw of him, he was explaining to the aide some of the preparations that would need to be made to get ready for Tremane's coronation as the new King of Hardorn.

Elspeth closed the door behind them, and joined Darkwind who was sprawled bonelessly on the couch. She suddenly felt as if she had been running an endurance test, and collapsed beside him.

'Well,' he said finally. 'I confess I am at a loss for words.'

'I have a few,' she told him, putting her head on his shoulder. 'But mostly, I can't begin to tell you how relieved I feel.'

She turned her head so that she could see his face, and he smiled into her eyes. 'You know how the Shin'a'in are always saying to be careful of what you ask for,' he chided gently. ''And you did ask for some sort of cheek on Tremane's behavior as a leader.'

'I did.' She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. 'I can't say that I'm at all unhappy about how this has fallen out. This means the probable end of conflict inside Hardorn. They're going to have a real, competent leader. He is going to be incapable of misusing the land or the people, and I have the oddest feeling that he won't even be able to think about going to war with anyone unless