“I understand,” said Laera, thinking such an oath would be of no real consequence.
Callador seemed reluctant to reveal the identity of his new patron until he was sure of her intentions. Doubtless, he wanted some assurance she would not reveal anything to Derwyn. No matter. Only foolish men gave any credence to such things as blood oaths. A little scratch upon the palm so that blood could mingle with blood and they thought it meant something. Besides, once her plans came to fruition, whoever Callador’s new lord might be, it was he who would owe fealty to her.
“I can accept that,” she said, feigning a somber and earnest expression.
“Good,” said Callador. He tossed a sharp dagger onto her bed. “Cut off a small lock of your hair. It need not be much. This amount will do.” He held his thumb and index finger about three inches apart.
She cut off a lock of hair, then handed it to him.
“Now, you must make the cut for the blood to bind the oath,” he said. “Your left palm, the one closer to your heart.”
She put the point of the dagger up against her palm, set her teeth, and made a small cut, just enough to allow some blood to flow. “Is that enough?” she asked, holding it up for his inspection.
“That will do. Now, hand me back the dagger.”
She gave it back to him, and he made a cut upon his own palm. “Hold out your palm, like this,” he indicated, holding out his hand, palm up.
She did as he told her, and he placed the lock of hair upon her bleeding palm, then pressed his own palm against hers, with the lock of hair between them.
“Repeat after me,” he said. “With this token and my lifeblood, I do pledge my bond …”
“With this token and my lifeblood, I do pledge my bond …” she repeated, thinking this all foolishly dramatic.
“and do hereby give my solemn oath as surety …”
“and do hereby give my solemn oath as surety …”
“of fealty to my teacher, lord, and master …”
“of fealty to my teacher, lord, and master …”
“of support and loyalty to his designs …”
“of support and loyalty to his designs …”
“of trust he may repose in me with all his secrets …”
“of trust he may repose in me with all his secrets …”
“and obedience in all things he may ask of me.”
“and obedience in all things he may ask of me.”
“Thus do I swear, on this my token and my lifeblood, to seal the pledge.”
“Thus do I swear, on this my token and my lifeblood, to seal the pledge,” she said.
“Good. It is done,” said Callador, breaking the contact and removing a small locket from his robe, into which he carefully placed her blood-soaked lock of hair. Then he turned and started back into the swirling portal.
“Wait!” said Laera. “When shall I see you again? And how?”
Callador paused. “I shall come to you.”
“But what of my husband? Derwyn shall want to share my bed again before too long.”
“When?”
She shook her head. “I can put him off a few more days, perhaps, but not much longer. He will grow suspicious.”
“A day or two should be sufficient. Obtain a lock of his hair for me. Tell him you wish it as a keepsake. I shall come to you the day after tomorrow and collect it.”
Laera frowned uncertainly. Suddenly, she had an idea that something had gone very wrong. “But… for what purpose?”
“So that I may devise a spell that will place him into a deep sleep at those times when I come to you. Never fear, it shall not harm him. And he shall awake recalling nothing of my visits.”
He turned and started to walk into the misty tunnel. For a moment, Laera simply sat there, stunned, her mind racing. The lock of hair was more than just a token. If it could be used to cast a spell…
“Callador, wait!” she cried.
He paused inside the tunnel, his dark figure indistinct inside the swirling mist.
“This lord who has become your patron,” she said. “Tell me his name!”
The swirling mist began to dissipate. But before the tunnel disappeared, she heard the wizard speak the name …
“Raesene.”
* * * * *
The word spread far and wide throughout the realm that the emperor sought a bride. Dispatch riders were posted to all the holdings of the nobility throughout the empire, and before long, every member of the aristocracy with an eligible daughter was petitioning for her to be considered. Of those aristocrats with more than one unmarried daughter in the household, some put forth the names of their eldest, some proposed their youngest, while others still proposed them all, inviting the emperor to take his pick as if he were choosing puppies from a litter.
The higher-ranking nobles, mindful of the proper protocol in matters of this kind and wishing not to make a misstep, all sent representatives to court, some with written scrolls that they delivered, setting forth replies. Others sought a direct audience with the lord high chamberlain so that they could repeat verbatim speeches they had memorized, extolling the virtues of the young noblewomen on whose behalf they acted.
Aedan was soon swamped with petitions and appointments. Each day, he received envoys who came with prepared speeches, scrolls, locket miniatures, and full-size portraits of the women whose cause they were advancing. Dozens more had taken up residence in rooming houses throughout the city, all waiting for their turn. Other nobles, especially the lower-ranking ones whose concern for proper protocol was not as great as their ambition, had actually packed up their daughters and brought them to the capital, hoping to present them personally for the emperor’s inspection.
It seemed every noble in the realm, from archduke to baronet to minor lords of small estates, had at least one daughter to present, and Aedan felt hopelessly ill qualified to choose from among them all. Even had he felt confident in his abilities to select a list of final candidates to present before the emperor, he could not handle it alone. He learned that very quickly.
There seemed to be no limit to the measures some nobles would employ to influence his choice. Many came with handsome gifts, while several offered outright bribes, and one viscount, who was as desperate for advancement as he was utterly unscrupulous, had even offered Aedan his youngest daughter for a mistress if he would advance his eldest for the emperor’s consideration.
Aedan held audiences with nobles who came to parade their daughters before him, decked out in their finest gowns to show their poise and beauty or display their talents. He heard so many ballads strummed on harps and lutes and sung with widely varying degrees of aptitude that he began to hear them in his sleep, and he saw so many examples of embroidery and weaving that his eyes began to cross.
“I cannot bear it any longer, Ariel,” he said one weary night, so driven to distraction that he couldn’t sleep. “I never imagined there would be so many of them! This task is taking up all of my time, and I am falling hopelessly behind on other vital matters. This was your idea! You have to help me. Please!”
“Leave it to me,” said Ariel. “You go on about the business of the empire, and I shall handle the selection process. Just put it out of your mind. I will present you with a final list of candidates when I am done.”
“I really don’t think you have any idea what you are letting yourself in for,” Aedan said.
“Oh, I think I do,” Ariel replied. “And what is more, I will be pleased to do it. I have longed for some task that would occupy my time and make me feel useful. Besides, a woman really would be better suited for this sort of thing.”
“I don’t know,” said Aedan dubiously. “It is not that I lack confidence in your abilities, it is just that I am not sure you know Michael well enough to choose the sort of woman he would want.”