by Jim Hodgson
“What happened here?” she asked.
“That’s what I want to know,” Ergam said. His voice was the kind of quiet and calm that made her want to run screaming.
“Ergam, I think these white things are—”
“I know what they are,” he said. “They’re the remains of my father’s bones.” He held up a piece of a tibia, pointed to a mark toward the upper end. “That’s the mark where he hit himself with an axe when he was alive, as a boy. Nearly chopped his own leg off, he used to say.”
Something gold was glinting on the tabletop rock near the metal pole. Kadin picked her way over carefully, trying not to step on any bone fragments. As she drew closer, it looked like what she was afraid it might look like — a puddle of gold that had melted and resolidified. “Is that ...” she began, pointing to it.
“His crown,” Ergam nodded. “I believe so.”
There were some scorch marks. Kadin reached out to touch them, but lightning struck one of the peaks nearby with a deafening crack. She yelped and drew her hand back.
“Did they burn him?” Ergam asked. He was looking at her intently.
Kadin composed herself and looked at the scorch marks again. There was certainly an odd pattern to them. “I — I don’t think so.” She was thinking, if you had access to magic, and you knew that your captive was vulnerable to fire … “I think they were using the fire magic to keep your father next to the metal pole.”
“For what purpose?”
“I couldn’t say.”
Ergam nodded. He seemed to understand there was only so much she could learn from the scene. She said, “Ergam, I’m so sorry this happened.”
He nodded. “Me too. I haven’t thanked you properly for offering to take my father’s things to Dilara. I think they are better off there, with my friends, than sitting in some storeroom in Kanat. If you’re still willing to do that, I would be in your debt.”
She nodded. “Of course, but…” she hesitated, because she realized she had no right to ask anything further. Ergam looked up, though, so she forged ahead. “What are you going to do?”
Ergam shrugged. “I’m going to try to learn to communicate with the hill people, find out what they did here, then decide what to do after later.”
It sounded to Kadin like the ramblings of a madman, but having been in the depths of grief herself, she knew what it was like. She just nodded, wished him luck, and bade him be careful. He nodded that he would, but the motion was like a teenager agreeing that he would stay out of mischief while his master was away. And then, for no reason at all, Kadin caressed Ergam’s face affectionately. When she realized what she’d done, she felt her body go wild with fear, but Ergam reached up and touched her hand. He even smiled at her.
Chapter 28
Aysu had trained her apprentices sufficiently to the point where, over the last few months, a handful of them had progressed to journeyman. Her father disapproved with the speed of their promotion, but had to admit that the current need was for a huge volume of serviceable weapons. The only way to grow their output was to teach as many people as possible how to make an axe, and the only way to grow that output was to first increase the number of people who could teach apprentices.
According to Nazenin’s counting, Aysu’s blacksmithing operation was now producing enough axes to arm the new recruits traveling from all corners of Dilara, which was good because there were a lot of them. A vast tent city had grown up in the countryside around Dilara, which necessitated all the usual support systems; cooks, seamstresses, leather workers, and so on. While it seemed at first to Aysu that the city would swell to the point where it simply couldn’t handle one more mouth to feed, she had to hand it to Usta, Alabora, Wagast, Yonca and the rest of the city’s leaders. It all seemed, somehow, to be working.
And yet, Aysu thought as she walked into the great hall of House Tatli, some parts of the process seemed hopelessly stuck in the past.
Lord Fulbasan Tatli was one of the few nobles to survive extermination at the hands of the evil wizard Cezmi. It seemed like a lifetime ago. But his house and lands were for the most part intact. He was sworn, by nature of the fact that he was a lord in King Usta’s lands, to provide fighting men to Usta, but had yet to do so, claiming he needed more time to arm his men. Aysu knew that to be bullshit. She and the Dilaran army could recruit, train, and arm more men than Tatli commanded in the time he’d had so far.
The lord sat in a chair that looked to Aysu’s eye suspiciously like a throne. She knew it was a fairly cheeky thing for a lord to have a hall styled somewhat like a throne room. It said, “I may not be king at present, but who knows what the future may bring?”
A rough-looking man in a leather apron stood at the lord’s side. That must be the blacksmith. Here we go again, Aysu thought.
The man who had led her into the hall announced her, then retreated. Aysu dipped her head. “Lord Tatli,” she said.
Lord Tatli made a noise. The blacksmith’s mouth twitched up at the corner.
Aysu waited. She’d been through a handful of these now. She didn’t understand why these asshole lords couldn’t communicate with one another to save time.
Finally, Lord Tatli said, “So, you’re the famous girl blacksmith, eh?”
“Just a blacksmith, your lordship.”
“Well, I’ve already got one of those,” Tatli said, waving a hand.
“Indeed,” Aysu said. “King Usta understands that you and your blacksmith are having trouble arming your men quickly enough. He has sent me to help.”
“I am afraid that you and your king are wasting your time,” Lord Tatli said. “House Tatli will fulfill its oath to arms, but not before my men are outfitted.”
“His Highness King Usta regrets that there is not time for a sword to be made for every one of your fighting men—” Aysu began.
Tatli slammed his palm down on the armrest of his chair. “This is an outrage,” he declared. “House Tatli has always gone to war with swords in their hands. Our traditions are older than King Usta — older than House Usta! And we will not be forced to break them.”
The blacksmith crossed his arms and murmured approvingly.
Aysu sighed. “Then I regret to inform you that on His Royal Highness, King Alper Usta’s orders, your lands and title will be revoked. I am told that you and your family will be allowed to continue living at Tatli Hall for the rest of your days, but your service as a lord will be at an end.” Aysu bowed her head again. “Good day, your lordship.”
Tatli bolted out of his seat. “Now you wait right there. Are you serious? Is this serious?” He was spitting a little.
Aysu put her hands out. “I am only the messenger. If your problem really was that your blacksmith was moving too slowly or lacked the proper training, I have orders to assist him. Begging your lordship’s pardon, it seems that the trouble is more ... administrative.”
“But he can’t just go around removing noble houses,” Tatli cried. “There are traditions!” He gestured at his blacksmith. “Hasret is going as fast as he can. Swords take time to craft.”
“Indeed, they do,” Aysu said. “That’s why King Usta has chosen to arm footmen with axes, spears, and the like.”
“But we are House Tatli. We’ve been a noble house of Dilara for thousands of years. We are not common—” The lord had apparently been about to go on a tirade about common people, but, to his credit, realized that he was in danger of shortly becoming exactly that. He forced a smile and changed tactic. “Perhaps we can instead arrange a little demonstration?”
Aysu hid her tired resignation to this evitable offer.
Tatli continued, “What if you and Hasret each spend a day in our blacksmith shop? You can each make an axe head, if you like. At the end of the day we’ll compare your work and if Hasret’s is superior, House Tatli will be allowed to stick with our traditions as they are.”
“I’m afraid I must decline, your lordship.”
Tatli looked taken aback. “But you are
rumored to be the best blacksmith in the land,” he said, in a mocking tone. “Surely it would be nothing for you to compare yourself to Hasret here.”
Hasret, arms still crossed, looked smug.
“With respect, your lordship, I have already accepted a few challenges just like this one at other houses, as I’m sure you’re aware. As you probably also know, I won each time, despite a significant amount of disadvantage and outright cheating. I have proved everything I want to prove about my ability as a blacksmith, but more importantly, I do not serve my ego. I serve the king.” She paused a moment to let this sink in. “Even if I wanted to go through another challenge and — all respect to House Tatli and smith Hasret — probably win it, the king has commanded that I do not. He has named me royal blacksmith. He has given me orders to share with your lordship. My commitment here is at an end.” She wanted to add, “as is yours,” but restrained herself.
Lord Tatli’s mouth was slightly open in horror. Hasret looked to his lord for their next move, but the lord stood stock-still.
Aysu might have enjoyed the moment were she not so utterly bored and frustrated by this same scene repeating itself. The lords and blacksmiths who had come before Tatli and Hasret, with their snide remarks about girls being blacksmiths and their cheating when it started to look like they might lose to Aysu. Now she just wanted to fulfill her duty and get back to her shop.
Lord Tatli, at least, knew when he was beaten. He could have thrown a tantrum and demanded Aysu be arrested. He probably knew his life would have been forfeit if he had, but whatever the case, he didn’t attempt anything of the sort.
He just gave his head a little shake. “Please tell King Usta that my men will be ready to go afield in two weeks.”
Chapter 29
Usta looked out over the ocean from the top of the stone tower. There would be dozens more towers like the one on which he currently stood, but the others were in construction at the moment. This one had been hurriedly built with the help of Ozel, Wagast, and Yonca, who assisted the stonemasons in lifting the blocks into their places, thus cutting down the time from months to weeks.
An old fishing boat had been stripped of anything valuable and anchored in the waters off the coast where it bobbed up and down.
“As you can see, Your Majesty,” Wagast said, “The towers provide both a vantage for looking out over the water as well as an excellent firing position for a wizard. Observe.”
“Wait,” Yonca said, but Wagast was already casting.
“Ignis pila!” he shouted. A fireball the size of a small house appeared and shot through the air. When it hit the boat, there was a great splash of water, steam, and a few splinters. When the wind carried the gout of steam away, there was nothing left of the boat but the circle of sea foam.
Yonca gave a short sigh.
“Well,” Usta said. “That’s certainly, er, effective.”
“I told him not to overdo it with the fireball,” Yonca said.
Wagast looked a little sheepish, which was an expression that didn’t look at home on his wise old face. “She did,” Wagast admitted.
“Not to worry,” Usta said. “I get the point. What say you, generals?”
Alabora gave Nazenin a significant look. Nazenin said, “Old fishing boats should think twice before invading Dilara, Your Majesty.”
Alabora gave a snort.
Usta half-smiled. “Indeed they should. Tell me, Wagast, can your apprentice wizards produce anything like that fireball?”
“Sadly, but also thankfully, no,” Wagast said. “They are improving. But they’re good enough that landing a ship on our shores without it being at least on fire will be difficult.”
“We predict they could prove to be more effective than archers,” Alabora said. “Certainly for a strike against any sailing vessel.”
Usta nodded. “Excellent work, Wagast. Every day we’re a stronger Dilara, I think.”
A page appeared at the top of the stone steps. “Your Majesty, there’s someone requesting an audience.”
Usta raised an eyebrow. “A regular occurrence. What is so special about this person that you’ve come up here?”
“Only this one says she’s a friend of Ergam Sakir and she has King Sakir’s personal effects, Your Majesty.”
“Right,” Usta said. “Someone fetch Ozel and Aysu. We’ll meet this person at the palace. Please make sure they are comfortable while they wait?”
“Right you are, Your Majesty,” the page said, and ran back down the stairs.
“Duty calls,” Usta said.
Alabora muttered, “It bloody doesn’t stop calling.”
Kadin was in the palace waiting in a room that looked to her like a great hall, but which had been described by the page who led her in here as “a sitting room.” She’d only ever seen the palace from the outside when she’d been alive. She hadn’t been inside Dilara’s walls much in her second life, let alone inside the palace.
The palace was, as one would imagine a royal palace to be, opulent. She remembered that her former owner, Ferdi Pocan’s, mansion was decorated in a similar way, but somehow House Pocan had always looked somehow gaudy. Kadin decided that the difference was age. The palace had gained these furnishings and decorations over thousands of years of royal history. Ferdi Pocan had just bought his or had them made. She wondered if she would be able to tell a handful of proper Royal Palace furnishings from any House Pocan ones, if they were removed from their surroundings. She thought she probably could.
The door at the end of the room opened and the page reappeared. He declared, loudly, that Kadin was requested to visit the future Queen of Dilara, Elgin Ormuz, in her private rooms.
Kadin hadn’t expected to meet any actual royals, but it didn’t matter too much, did it? She was just trying to do a favor for someone who was in pain. She stood, shouldered the sack of King Sakir’s carefully packed effects, and followed the page.
The future Queen’s rooms were barer than the waiting room below, but still far larger than most houses Kadin had been in. They were larger even than the watch house.
The future queen was sitting propped up in her bed, with a number of other people arrayed around her.
“Kadin Onan? I’m Elgin Ormuz.” She held out her hand, and Kadin stepped forward to take it in her glove. Though it hadn’t been hand-to-bone, even a gloved handshake was a gesture most living people avoided when dealing with extramortals. Kadin realized suddenly that she perhaps was giving offense — there were other courtesies required.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, I don’t know if I’m meant to curtsey and that?”
Elgin waved a hand. “We’ll forego those formalities for now. I wanted to speak to you in person to thank you for your service to our dear Ergam. We all want to know what news you have of him. This is Yonca, that’s Ozel and Aysu.”
“Hello, all,” Kadin said. “I’m happy to tell what little I know.”
Elgin said, “We’ll have to wait just a moment for the king. He’ll want to hear what you have to say.”
“Oh,” Kadin said. Then the room seemed very quiet. “I was sorry to hear about what happened to you, Your Majesty. Very nasty thing.”
Yonca said, “Yes, and when I find the person responsible they’re going to have a very nasty time.”
Kadin had heard about Yonca the Spider Mistress. In fact, Kadin was a little more impressed being in the same room with Yonca than with the royals of Dilara.
Elgin sighed. “I’m not sure I even care anymore. I just want to be back on my feet.”
“I’m sure your spiders will find everything out soon enough,” Kadin said.
Yonca arched an eyebrow at her and said flatly, “Yes.”
Her reaction made Kadin wish she hadn’t said anything. Yonca must already be on edge given that they still hadn’t found the person responsible for the attempted assassination. She was renowned for knowing just about everything. Not knowing who was the culprit must be killing her. Come to think of it, why didn’t
she know? Surely there would be a spider present for any conversation, even like one about planning an assassination …
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the hallway, followed by a man who must be King Usta. He looked regal, anyway.
He crossed to her and put his hand out. “King Usta of Dilara,” he said, smiling.
Kadin shook the king’s hand. So this is what it’s like to be around humans who see extramortals as equals, eh? In a way it was exhausting.
The king went to Elgin’s bedside and put a hand on her shoulder. There was also a larger man and a hard-looking woman, both in military clothes. They were introduced as Alabora and Nazenin. An ancient wizard who must be Wagast the Wise was last to enter.
“Right, well,” the king said, as Wagast pushed the door to. “How’s our Ergam?”
Kadin would have winced if she still had a face. “I’m afraid he’s not well, Your Majesty. As you can imagine, he’s deeply disturbed.”
The king nodded. “As anyone would be, I’m sure.”
“I can speak from my own experience of losing a parent. It changed me forever.” She paused. “I should add that I lost my own life at the same time, so my case is an odd one, but I think about my father every day.”
“You were the child in the watch house,” Yonca said. There was a touch of what sounded like wonder in her voice.
It wasn’t a question, as such, but Kadin answered anyway. “I was.”
“Watch house?” Elgin asked.
“Before your times,” Yonca said. “Almost before mine.”
“So, Kadin, you offered to bring Ergam’s father’s things to us for safekeeping?” the king asked.
