Scion of Cyador

CXXIII

The older magus looks at the unconscious healer lying on the bed. He concentrates, and the slightest shimmering of chaos enfolds the young woman for a moment, then vanishes. The younger magus, broad-shouldered and with dark red hair, breathes a gentle sigh.

After a moment, the two step from the bedchamber.

“You see?” asks the red-haired and green-eyed older magus. “That was her sister’s doing, and she will not remember this…not for a time, if ever. The suroyen will make her feel ill, as if a minor flux…but she will not have her order powers fully back for a day or so. Best you ensure you have an heir by then.”

“Yes, ser. Was there no other way?” Ciesrt wrinkles his forehead, then purses his lips.

“Have you found any such, my first-level adept?” Kharl’s eyebrows lift. “You have been consorted now for, what, four years?”

“Almost five,” Ciesrt replies.

“And have you an heir?”

“No. But I worry. In her own way, she is fragile.”

Kharl shakes his head. “She is a healer. She will love the child, and it will make it easier in time for you two to have another. Be kind and gentle, and you will see. Healers always love children. You have seen her with her brother’s son, have you not?”

Ciesrt nods.

“All would have been well, had her elder sister not become involved. Yet…one can say nothing, not now, for she is most effective as a healer, even if she chooses to dally with a dissolute merchanter.”

“None know much of him, save he provides her lodging and gambles much.”

“He gambles well,” Kharl says, “well enough to hold a dwelling in the merchanter quarter, and to do little else. It is sad that a daughter of such a once-great line will have neither consort nor heirs.” He frowns, momentarily. “But you and Myryan will continue that heritage, and you may prosper far more than any would have dreamed.”

“She’ll be all right, won’t she?”

“She will be fine.” Kharl coughs gently. “She will not even recall anything until tomorrow morning, I would judge. Do what you must, and tell her that she has the flux when she wakes.”

Ciesrt frowns, then nods.

“I will be going.” Kharl steps toward the doorway of the bedchamber. “I can let myself out.”

Ciesrt looks at Myryan, then at the doorway, but it is empty, and shortly there is the sound of another door closing.