Tyrant Trouble (Mudflat Magic) by Phoebe Matthews Page B

each one represent a
planet.
    And
there I was, reading a warlord's life and my own survival in the glitter of
face paint and a handful of pebbles.
    After
long hours spent stretching my mind to recall the memorized positions of the
slower planets in the sky for the day of Kovat's birth, information I would
have found in an ephemeris if I were home, I lay my head in my arms and closed
my eyes. My memory of planet positions had always been exceptional but seldom
burdened to this extent. If Tarvik's gods were watching, I hoped they would
give me a little guidance.
    I
could place the slower planets, Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, Saturn, who spend
several years in each of the constellations.
    Like
it or not, astronomers, Pluto swings a lot of weight in a horoscope. Oh right,
astronomers don't approve of horoscopes either, so scratch that and plow on.
    Even
the quicker Jupiter, who moves through a constellation in a year or less, was
fairly easy to figure out. Although I could not recall the exact degree for
each, I remembered approximately where they would have been. But the constantly
changing locations of Mars, Venus, and Mercury as they sped through the sky
were impossible to recall for years long past.
    Might
have been able to come close with a calculator, but while close is useful for a
planet, forget it with the moon. As the moon moves a degree every night, no way
to guess. I knew well enough where it was tonight, but thirty-nine years ago?
No, Kovat's horoscope was filled with blanks.
    Perhaps
having one's head removed from one's body by a very quick and very sharp sword
was not the most painful death, I told myself.
    At
this thought, I remembered Tarvik. The kid had watched me from the moment I
entered Kovat's room, with that foolish look he wore too often, his eyelids
heavy, his mouth partly open, his tongue against his upper lip. It was
something Nance did, too. They did not resemble each other much but they did
often use the same facial expressions.
    Later
his face reflected shock when I spoke a bit quickly to his father. Did they
have some form of address that he and Nance forgot to mention? Was I supposed
to call Kovat “my lord” or “sir” or some such thing? I was perfectly willing to
add any old title the guy preferred. Was Tarvik's terror for me? Did it matter
to him, then, what became of me? Hmm. Maybe I was his first prisoner and that
pumped his ego, made him possessive proud.
    As
I pulled a lamp closer to the chart and turned my study to Kovat's destiny, I
wondered if Tarvik had it in his power to keep me alive no matter what happened
tomorrow. Didn't think he did, yet I suspected he would try. My opinion of
Tarvik continued to edge very slightly toward something milder than fury.
    Think
of the boy and there he was, like an unlucky charm. As I worried over the
charts, he pounded on the gates. I rose, went out into the courtyard where
embers still flickered from our evening fire, and said the ritual who-is-there
knowing perfectly well who was there.
    When
he was inside and the gate closed again, I went back to the center of the
courtyard and held out my hands to the warmth of the dying fire.
    “What
is it now?” I said.
    “I
know who you are. Beyond what you told my father today, beyond being from the
land of the Daughter.”
    “Not
a templekeeper and not a god.” I looked him in the eyes. His face reflected the
firelight, and it turned his yellow hair to red.
    “More
than that. I thought about the story you told me that did not have an ending.”
    “Umm,
did you?”
    “Stargazer,
you really are from outside.”
    I
nodded.
    “So
were they, but they were gods.”
    “And
your question is?”
    “People,
not gods, live here. Gods live outside, and when we die our souls go outside
and join them.”
    He
thought anything beyond the boundaries of their land was heaven?
    “Are
you saying no one has ever gone away and then come back?”
    “How
could they? Only the dead can leave.”
    I
mulled that one over.