The Enhancer Read online

  At dinner Meeral sat between the Duke and a local judge. At first Meeral wondered what either of these men would do if they knew that her mother was labeled "Origin Unknown." Did she need to worry, now that she was the heroine of Pactyl? Except for the Duke again saying that she reminded him of someone the conversation was easy; everyone wanted to fight the battle of Pactyl again.

  When it was time for the Duke and Duchess to start the dance, the Duchess took MorToak's arm and led him, rather, dragged him, toward Meeral. Meeral turned away when she heard the Duchess say, "You must have the first dance with Meeral, your Highness. She's the heroine of the hour." The Duchess must know how inexperienced Meeral was on a dance floor.

  MorToak knew, for he said, "I'd love to but I really find this particular dance rather difficult."

  "I've seen you dance plenty of times, your Highness." Aiming her words at the gathering of people, she said in a surprisingly loud voice, "Prince MorToak and our brave Major Meeral will lead in the first dance."

  MorToak did not even show polite enthusiasm as he bowed to Meeral. He put his arm around her waist and led her through the first few steps. He seemed to brace himself against a terrible disaster. He knew enough of Meeral's background to know that court dancing was not part of the life of Cyrtuno.

  He looked at her cautiously as she followed his steps perfectly, remembering how her mother had led her through the same routine. Then she recalled the hours Shejani had spent teaching her the next part of the dance. Now the movement of her feet would suddenly shift. Though he held her in his arms, MorToak's feet would follow an entirely different design from hers.

  She stumbled, missing a beat and she could see MorToak's eyes narrow, but she caught up. It was magical, she with her tiny steps, the syncopated tap of her foot, while he swept her around, his feet following a different pattern. Shejani had only been able to show her the steps the woman danced. Meeral had never had the sensation of a man and woman, each letting their feet dance through separate intricate steps, yet still moving together as partners. They did not speak. MorToak was busy guiding her between other whirling dancers, and Meeral had no breath left for conversation.

  The dance ended with a shout -- "Hey!" They looked at each other, both breathless and laughing. He had his arm around her waist and smiled down at her as she leaned against him.

  "Meeral,Ó he said. He would have said more, but the Duke claimed the next dance and MorToak bowed to the Duchess and asked her to dance.

  Meeral had only to say a few words to get the Duke started in conversation. So it went with every one of the men who pressed forward and asked her to dance. She smiled, she nodded her head, and she listened. At a break between dances, she found herself standing near the Duke and his aide.

  Smiling at Meeral the Duke said to Pudbot, "I still haven't figured out whom this lovely lady reminds me of." The Duke's aide looked embarrassed. He stepped to one side. The Duchess was sitting at a table directly behind him. Her husband's words fed the anger in her eyes.

  "Don't you know?" she said. "It's so obvious even you should be able to figure it out."

  Good-humoredly, the Duke bowed to his wife and said, "Who is it, my pet?"

  The Duchess snapped back, "Instead of just ogling her, close your eyes and listen to her." She turned to Meeral and asked, "Where did you learn to dance? Who taught you?"

  She knows, Meeral realized. Now I know why she is angry.

  She said, "I was taught by a woman in Cyrtuno."

  "Say that again," the Duchess said, "So my husband can hear your voice."

  Meeral repeated her sentence.

  "Shejani!" the Duke said. "Of course. That voice -- not the way she looks -- the voice is just like Shejani's."

  "Are you related to that woman?" the Duchess asked.

  "Shejani was my mother."

  "Your mother! How old are you?" the Duke said, then looked at his wife as if he wished he could retrieve the words. For a moment, Meeral wondered if the Duke blushed.

  "Eighteen."

  "Oh, that old. Good." The Duke avoided looking at his wife.

  Kaldoat was standing nearby with Linima. "Who was Shejani?" he asked.

  "Pactyl's most accomplished courtesan," Pudbot said dryly.

  Meeral winced as she saw how many people were listening, including MorToak. The Duke, giving his wife a look that was both defiant and guilty, began speaking of Shejani. At first Meeral found it intensely embarrassing. He explained how Shejani had come to Pactyl and made a success of "finding protectors," although he did not use such delicate words. Then he told the same story of Shejani's life that her mother so often told. Meeral sensed that this man was wandering through the memories of her mother and that he had loved her. No wonder the Duchess was jealous of both Shejani and her daughter.

  When he stopped talking, no one spoke. Then Linima murmured, "What a sad and beautiful story."

  "What part was so sad and beautiful?" the Duke asked her.

  "The way she lost her mother, then her father."

  The Duke leaned down close to Linima and said, "That's the part that was probably not true." He straightened up and met his wife's eyes. "And that was part of her fascination. She had a mystery about her."

  The Duchess stood up. If she had feathers, Meeral thought, they would be sticking straight out.

  The Duchess said, "She was just a common . . . "

  The Duke interrupted her. "No, darling," he said. "If that were true you wouldn't be so angry."

  When the Duchess started to walk away, the Duke was right beside her. Meeral noticed that he held her arm lightly and she did not pull away from him.

  "I must have this dance," an officer begged Meeral when the last dance was announced.

  The judge who had sat next to her at dinner said, "You haven't danced with me once. I insist we have this dance."

  The circle of officers around her shouted him down and begged Meeral to choose, when suddenly there was a break in the gathering. Officers stepped back, letting MorToak approach. He bowed.

  "I've come to claim this dance, Meeral." He held out his hand to her. "May I?"

  She put her hand in his. Neither of them spoke as he whirled her in a waltz. Linima and Kaldoat danced as if they alone existed. Lenera had chosen a lieutenant from a line of admiring officers. As Lenera danced, Meeral sometimes caught her looking longingly after her twin. If it had been anyone except Lenera, Meeral would have thought that look was tinged by jealousy.

  Perhaps Meeral lost the intense concentration she had given to dancing, but suddenly she missed a step and her foot landed on MorToak's. He laughed.

  "I was just going to say you seem to be good at everything. Now I see you are human."

  "I'm very human," she said.

  "Then I can ask you. You will tell me the truth?"

  For a moment, Meeral hoped for a question that did not relate to the war with the Draries. But it did.

  "Yes?"

  "When I fought that Drarie soldier -- he was a good fighter." He looked uncertain, something Meeral had never seen in his face before. "Meeral. Did you help me win that fight?"

  "Help you?" For a moment she did not understand. Then suddenly she realized what he was asking. "No," she said. "I did not use my powers of enhancing to help you. You won it entirely on your own."

  He gave a sigh, as if he had let go of something painful, and with a burst of energy, he whirled her around three times. When he slowed his pace and looked at her, his whole face was lit by his smile.

  "Then I did it all myself," he said.

  "Yes."

  "You've done so much, Major Meeral. But if I had not conquered that soldier fairly, I would wonder if I were any use as a commander."

  "But Kaldoat . . . " Meeral almost repeated what Linima had said in confidence, but stopped in time. "I'm sure Kaldoat appreciates you."

  "Lately, he seems to. We get along much better. I'm able to show him how to work with civilians -- instead of just thinking of military maneuvers."<
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  He was only interested in her for what she contributed to the defense of Pactyl, but he had changed. He no longer talked to Meeral as if she were just a woman to be seduced. He probably thought of her as a woman warrior, not a sex object. Meeral was not sure she was happy about the change.

  MorToak waltzed them close to Kaldoat and Linima. He started to greet them, but they were too preoccupied in each other to notice him.

  "Do you think they're talking about military maneuvers?" he asked.

  Meeral looked at the dreamy expression on both Linima and Kaldoat's faces and laughed. "No. They're not."

  "Then we won't talk about such things." He smiled down at her as he whirled her round and round. Even when she fell asleep that night, she still seemed to be going around in his arms.

  CHAPTER 18

  Three days later, Meeral had two visitors. Early in the morning, before Meeral left the palace to report to Kaldoat, a woman came to her door. She placed samples of fabrics in Meeral's hand.

  "I'm a seamstress. I'll make you two dresses, no charge, from your selection from these materials. Just let me borrow the dress you wore to the ball."

  The woman explained that she already had four orders for "a dress just like Meeral's," and she expected more, especially if she could say that she copied the dress exactly. Meeral's country-style dress was now high fashion in Pactyl.

  Meeral selected a light blue linen and a bright green muslin, while Linima giggled.

  Her next visitor came much later in the day, just after she came home from work. All day she talked to fire-enhancers, finding out who could ride horseback and who was willing to learn. Since Kaldoat and Linima had taken Lenera with them to a gathering of officers Meeral was alone. Tired, she enjoyed the luxury of solitude. The knock on the door was so tentative that Meeral ignored it. It came again. She rose and asked, "Who is it?"

  "Your Grace."

  When she held the door ajar, she could see the Duke looking furtively down the hall. He asked if he could come in for a moment. Meeral hesitated.

  "I want to tell you about your mother's grave," he said.

  She let him in.

  "When your mother died," he said, "I had the Gurkonian priests plant an apple tree on her grave. I couldn't put my name on the plaque, of course, but it didn't seem right for her not to have a tree. I wanted you to know."

  As he left he said, "We may be at war out in the hills and in the harbor, but at home, I'm having an outbreak of peace -- with my wife -- for the first time since I met your mother. It's not bad. You helped us come to terms with my fascination for Shejani." He slipped quickly out of the room.

  When Meeral finally visited the Gurkonian graveyard, she passed many plaques that gave the name of the deceased and the name of the donor. Some had several plaques, each with different a donor's name. Finally she found the apple tree that grew on her mother's grave. Under it was a large plaque with "Shejani" engraved on it. There was no name of the donor. Idly, Meeral wandered among the apple trees. She found another plaque on which was engraved "Shejani." Nothing more. Four more trees had plaques with the same engraving.

  Six men -- it must have been men -- cared enough for Shejani to spend money on her even when she was dead. At least six men had been attracted to her mother, and I, thought Meeral, can't even attract one. I suppose that went with mother's profession, she thought. I have become a soldier and men admire me for such unfeminine attributes of strategies and tactics. And women admire my country-style dress. For Ezant's sake, what fun is that?

  Linima announced her engagement to Kaldoat, and Lenera acted terribly cheerful as long as she thought someone was watching her. Linima and Kaldoat often included Lenera in their activities, finding some nice young officer to escort her. The evening after Meeral visited her mother's grave, Lenera insisted on staying home. Again a visitor was announced. It was MorToak.

  Meeral felt her face flush with the excitement of seeing him at the door. Lenera tactfully started toward the back part of the suite but MorToak's face indicated that this was not a social visit, just as Meeral expected.

  "King ParToak wants you to come to Lurdoa City at once, Meeral," he said.

  "What's the matter?"

  "The Draries have sent ships through the Straits of Pothlat and are sailing up the west coast. That means they can attack Lurdoa City by sea. The king sent a message through Lulrythe saying that you must come and help with the defense of the capital."

  "Does Lurdoa City have enhancers?" Meeral asked.

  "Very few -- and none as skilled as you. Kaldoat will come as soon as he can arrange the transportation of enhancers. Pack tonight. We'll leave early tomorrow. Don't bring too much. We'll go by carriage across the Lurpac Mountains."

  "Can I come with you?" Lenera asked. "If Kaldoat is following us, Linima and I could send messages back and forth."

  MorToak stared at Lenera for a moment, then shifted his gaze to Meeral. Meeral nodded her head in approval. The twins could communicate twenty miles. Perhaps they could communicate farther. Meeral guessed Lenera needed to be out of sight of Linima's happiness.

  MorToak agreed. "It would help," he said to Lenera. Before he left he said to Meeral, "I never thought my uncle would be in danger. I'm glad I can bring you to help defend him and Lurdoa City. Perhaps I'll get a chance to show you . . ." He smiled and said, "We'll see what happens," and he left.

  "Oh, Meeral," Lenera said, "I just had to do something besides watching Linima and Kaldoat together." She covered her face with her hands for a moment, then said, "I'm two people. One is a person who delights in her sister's happiness. The other is a half person, whose other half is being stolen from her."

  They packed quickly. Lenera, with only the few things she had acquired since the fire, packed almost everything she owned. Meeral included her two new dresses. She put in a wool shawl for crossing the mountains and stuck her flute in between the dresses.

  They awoke before dawn and soon were on their way in a carriage with comfortably padded leather seats. Meeral didn't need to sit on the front box and enhance the pull of one horse. Instead, six strong horses pulled the carriage. Four soldiers on horseback escorted them.

  For a while Meeral gazed out of the window. She could see the mountains ahead. By the side of the road wild garlic grew, green and lush this time of year, just as it had when she and Grandma Varis added it to almost every dish they cooked.

  MorToak talked about his relatives in Lurdoa City, telling Meeral and Lenera about the most exciting event that was expected: the birth of the first offspring of Prince DotToak and his wife -- a grandchild for King ParToak,

  The six horses worked hard, pulling the carriage up the foothills of the LurPak Mountains. Near the middle of the day, the driver announced that they were coming to the only tavern in the area. The horses needed a rest. The tavern, he said, was a good one, with fine service from the owner and his wife. Yet when they arrived, only the owner waited on them. He said his wife had to leave because her mother was sick. He seemed harassed and nervous, looking about him often as if he expected someone to walk in the door.

  Whoever had cooked the meal was overly generous with the wild garlic. It dominated the stew the tavern keeper clumsily served them. The day had turned hot and Meeral automatically cooled her cider. Whatever knack for cooling cider she had lost in Pactyl, she seemed to have regained here in the mountains.

  "Let's take a walk," she said to Lenera when they finished eating and MorToak went out to look at the horses. "I feel stuffed and groggy."

  Lenera sat on a bench and leaned against the wall. "You go ahead. I'm just going to sit."

  The cool mountain breeze felt good on Meeral's face as she walked out of the tavern. MorToak was talking with the driver. The soldiers were slouched on the porch. She started walking on the road, but saw that a garden had been planted behind the tavern. Wondering what grew there, she lazily walked behind the tavern. Small leaves of potato plants, radishes and spinach were just coming up. She looked u
p at the shed that stood nearby. The door opened a crack. Two eyes peered at her. She was so startled she gasped.

  Out of the door stepped Glitob. He started toward her, a sneer on his face and a cockiness in his step. "This time we've got you, Meeral," he said.

  With an automatic reaction of self-preservation Meeral reached for the fire under the stew in the tavern. She knew it had been there. Suddenly it disappeared. She heard a hiss through the back window of the tavern. A quick glance revealed the steam rising from a fire. Someone just has doused it with water. In the haze of the steam appeared a confusingly familiar face.

  "MorToak!" Her voice was more of a scream than a shout.

  Glitob grabbed at her. She dodged clumsily. When MorToak came running around the corner of the building, Glitob unsheathed his sword. The man was no match for MorToak. A few minutes later MorToak was wiping his sword on the dead man's jerkin. He put an arm around Meeral and led her back to the tavern.

  She stumbled on the steps, but managed to reach the porch. Hazily, she wondered why the four soldiers were asleep. She must tell MorToak about Glitob while she was still able.

  "That man was a friend of Chak, who killed the enhancer in Pactyl," she mumbled.

  MorToak let go his hold on her and she slipped to the floor. Meeral's last conscious impression before she blacked out was the tavern owner pleading with a man standing near him. "I did what you told me. Now give me back my wife."

  The man was Chak.

  CHAPTER 19

  In her dreams Meeral was moving all the time, as if her body was lurching to one side, then to the other. The dream changed and she was dancing with MorToak. But she kept stumbling. Suddenly he let go of her and she was in Chak's arms. She gave out a cry. A woman's voice outside her dream, said, "Here. This broth is good for you," and Meeral felt a spoon touch her lips and she felt the broth in her mouth. This time garlic did not cover that other taste that did not belong.

  Meeral said, "No," but the woman held her hand over Meeral's mouth and said, "That's a good girl. Now swallow," and Meeral obediently swallowed each spoonful until she faded into deeper sleep.