The young men on the other side slowed their efforts but didn't stop.
"We've still got a strong wind," Birk shouted. "No need to row."
William stopped. He peeled his hands off the leather handle of the oar. Blood and skin stayed on the leather. He looked at his hands. Blood and pain, and he could not feel a thing. His arms and shoulders had a nice burn going, as if he'd lifted too much iron that day.
Mathew noticed the others' hands were damaged. He moved to stand next to each man in turn and spoke healing chants. When he reached William, the chants did nothing. Mathew went and got his staff. A spark burned in the gemstone on top of the arcane device. Mathew drew in a great torrent of power. He said the healing chants again. William's hands healed.
Mathew lay down on the ground and breathed.
"You're not useless after all," Birk said.
William glared. "In battle, he's better than a hundred Rangers. He earns his keep."
"Of course."
"How long before we reach Kergia?" William asked.
"If this blessed wind holds steady, two days."
"Would we have made it through without the tailwind?"
"We'll say thanks this day to the God of Winds. No way we'd have made it without the wind."
Chapter Sixty
The dashing prince leaned in to kiss the serving wench. Samantha turned the page hoping for gory details. Knock, knock, knock.
Curses, she thought. The nineteen-year-old Samantha shouted, "I'm reading."
"Can I enter?" Someone said from beyond the door.
Samantha set the book on an end table. "Enter!"
Her two handmaidens stepped in. Both were younger than she was, with blonde hair and boring blue eyes. The left one said, "You're wanted in the throne room."
"It can wait," Samantha said as she reached for her book again.
The right one said, "We're to fetch you promptly. If you need a bath--"
"I do not need a bath!"
Samantha pushed herself off the pillows. "Kit!"
A black cat, broad through the shoulders and ten feet from nose to tail, purred and kneeled down before Samantha's bed. She climbed onto the beast. "Throne room."
The cat purred, and easily managed Samantha's weight. The two utterly useless handmaidens followed behind. Mother and Father were already on their thrones. The handmaidens took seats on benches with some scribes. Male scribes.
Samantha asked, "What is it?"
Mother motioned to the cushioned throne on Father's right side. Samantha's official spot. The throne on the other side was for her good-for-nothing brother, the firstborn. Samantha raised her nose skyward but climbed off the cat onto the small cushioned chair. She said, "Sit."
Kit curled up in a ball at her feet.
Father raised his voice. "Bring them in!"
Two young men entered. Both had brown hair cut in waves with brown eyes on the left man, green eyes on the right. The left man was tall and fit. The other one was almost as tall, but commanded broad shoulders and narrow hips. The first one had a staff in his hand. The fitter one had a blade on his side that reached almost to the floor, as well as a bow across his back, with a quiver of arrows behind his other shoulder.
The fitter one's eyes caught hers, and she looked away. Possibly even blushing, although she would never admit to it.
A scribe filled the room with sound. "Prince Mathew of Lynken, a Magi, and heir to the throne of Lynken, Prince William."
Both young men bowed.
They want our Cat Riders for their war again. That or this is about some trade deal. We have all the goods we need. Samantha glared at the prince on the right. A part of her mind wanted to whisper, two princes?
The fitter man, clearly William, said, "Slavers are invading Lynken on the first day of spring, bent on crushing all the free lands." He turned to Samantha. "Who are you?"
"That's Samantha, our daughter," Father said. "What say the Druids?"
William started inching closer to Samantha and perhaps drooled at the mouth.
"The Druids told us to come to Kergia and summon the Cat Riders," Mathew said.
Mother said, "This William looks like his father."
The king smiled widely as William inched closer to Samantha. "How was the great swamp?"
"We came by the ocean route," Mathew said. "Through the Maelstrom."
"They lie!" Samantha shouted.
Mother hissed. "You'll remember your place."
William stared into Samantha's face and took a small step forward.
Kit arched his back and let out a snarl that made the other Kergian cats in the room come to life. Very slowly, William bowed and then lowered himself, so he was below the cat. He reached out his right hand just barely under Kit's nose.
Samantha whispered, "He'll kill you if you don't back off."
William held his hand below the cat and made a clicking noise a few times with his tongue. A bit of a purr escaped his lips. He wiggled his fingers a few times.
The cat snarled again. William held perfectly still, keeping his whole body below the cat's face. The cat smelled the air. He pushed his head down and smelled William's hand. William did not move. The cat's tongue came out and caressed the young man's hand.
William smiled and petted the cat under the chin. He pushed himself up and started to vigorously rub the cat behind the ears.
Samantha's blood raged in her skull. "Kit! Rip his throat out!"
The cat didn't. Father shouted, "You can that shit right now, Samantha!"
William embraced the cat in a great hug. "I've tamed wild ones before. A Kergian kitten kept my crib warm. I have never ridden one, though. I would consider it disrespectful."
"How nice," Samantha said.
The prince turned his green eyes to Samantha's. He spoke quietly. "When a gentleman meets a beautiful woman, his preference is to kiss her hand to show his affection."
Samantha pulled her hands away from his. Mother spoke between clenched teeth, "Give him your hand."
Samantha closed her eyes and held out her right hand. He touched it with both of his, knelt down, and kissed her.
She did indeed blush.
Mathew cleared his throat. "Lynken can count on Kergia?"
"The Cat Riders are ready, but we must rally," Father said. "And the maelstrom will block our path for at least two more weeks."
Samantha asked, "You truly passed through the maelstrom in winter?"
"I rowed, and an ancient sea mariner named Birk steered the boat," William said.
Samantha smiled for the first time that day.
Chapter Sixty-One
William turned to her father. "I must speak to your chief man-at-arms."
"I'll show you the way," Father said. "He's most likely either buried in a war tome or exercising."
Father and the two princes left. Samantha realized she was standing and sat down.
"You do understand... Lynken is almost as big as Kergia?" Mother asked.
Samantha shook her head.
"They do more trade and have a bigger population than we do by far." Mother stood up. "Their Rangers are the best swordsmen in all free lands. Their Magi are historically stronger than those of Weslan."
"Shut up!" Samantha barked.
"What did you just say to me?"
"I'm so sorry, Mother," Samantha said. "That boy rattled me."
The worthless handmaiden on the left said, "He looked like a man to me."
The right one said, "If he's still a boy, that can be fixed."
The scribes shared a chuckle. Samantha said, "Kit."
The cat stood and then bent down so Samantha could climb on board. She did. "My room."
The cat knew the way. The handmaidens followed. The left twin said, "We haven't done your nails in ages, my lady."
"You're long overdue for both a manicure and a pedicure," the right twin said.
Samantha sighed.
"Your hair seems long," the left one said. "You always say you like
to keep it short."
"Fine," Samantha said.
She patiently waited when they did each hand separately. One of the little bitches said, "We have a nice shade of blue, and it'll match your eyes."
"I think we have a green that will match his," the second one said.
Samantha let out a little growl. "Paint them red. Blood red."
"Aye, my lady," the left one said.
When they did the pedicure, Samantha tried to read, but the book was all kisses and other dirtiness. Stuff she normally enjoyed in a book, but knew in her heart she'd never love in life.
"Did you see his shoulders?" The left tramp asked.
The right one snickered. "I saw those shoulders, and I looked down, and it was all good. Although it's possible he has ugly feet."
The tarts finished the pedicure. Samantha's nails were perfect. One of the handmaidens produced scissors and a comb. "It's down below your shoulders. Shall I just trim it up?"
Samantha rolled her head in a bit of a circle. "I don't want to bother with it. Cut it no more than two inches long all around."
"You'll be hideous!"
"Look, you little wench, do as I say!"
The second girl reached for the scissors and comb. She started hacking away, making precision cuts. She finished. The one who didn't do the cutting said, "You're beautiful."
"Mirror!" Samantha barked.
The girl held out a mirror. Samantha looked into it. Her hair was short, but it was brilliantly styled in waves. It looked like the wind was raging in it. She did look beautiful. "Leave me."
Both of the little bitches left. Samantha cuddled on a bed of pillows with Kit. She cried, but she had no idea why she was crying. She summoned her courage and wiped her face clean. When she opened the door to her chamber, one of the handmaidens was there. The handmaiden smiled. "The prince is having dinner with us."
"No, I want dinner brought to me."
"I heard them talking. They plan to leave in seven days for the Southern coast."
"So?"
"My lady, it's time to strike. Make him yours."
"Shut up, or I'll have you beaten. Bring me dinner."
"Aye, my lady."
The handmaiden returned with a tray of grilled meat and potatoes fried in butter. Samantha ate alone. She put the tray outside her door when she was finished.
She tossed and turned all night in a rage, shifting from one scene to another, and in every one that damn boy was present.
The sun peeked through her eastern window when she woke. Nobody waited outside her door. Samantha put on a simple robe and made her way to the dining hall. She sat with her mother and father.
Servants brought food. Samantha was not paying attention or eating. Simply lost in a daze. "I had a terrible nightmare."
Father asked nicely, "What did you dream of?"
"I dreamed that prince ravaged me!"
A chuckle sounded from farther down the table. The prince was laughing at her.
The prince spoke in a loud voice, "When you realized it was a dream, did you fight to stay asleep, or to wake?"
"To wake!"
"Did it happen more than once? When I visit beautiful young women in their dreams, I like to do it at least three times in a night."
Samantha pointed at William. "He ravaged me!"
"Dear God, it's been years since your father has ravished me," Mother said, "and I surely wouldn't be complaining if he did it once in a while."
"What!"
"Yes, I have forgotten how," Father said. "I'm told our chief guardsman has a book on the subject, though. I plan to study it."
"Good, the sooner, the better," Mother said. Then she turned to Samantha, "What happened to your hair?"
"Little bitch number two cut it," Samantha said with a sneer.
"You won't refer to our servants this way, it's hostile."
"I have an announcement," Father said. He stood up. "Since we're sending four thousand Cat Riders to Lynken, we need to send at least one member of our royal family. Lots were drawn last night at dinner, and I'm afraid, you're up Samantha."
"No!" Samantha yelled.
"Yes, it's time you earned your keep in this family. You'll travel with the Cat Riders and only return when this war is won."
Samantha's face squeezed into a giant wrinkle, as if she was going to go into a seizure.
Mining Chapter I
Frank and his miners left a small village at dawn. Most of the men slept in barns that night, and farmers built up raging fires for them. The cold, dead of winter was truly on them. Days passed, they found their water skins frozen in the brisk air, so they took to letting a bit of whiskey mix with the water. By this time in the journey, they were almost out of whiskey.
Frank led the way on through a blizzard. If his navigation was right, they'd come across another village with no name, with maybe five farmhouses in total. He and his men plowed through wind in near darkness, the storm above was so great.
A massive cracking sound filled their ears, and while they first thought of thunder and lightning, the unsteady ground below made it clear they were on a huge sheet of ice, and that is what was cracking.
Men struggled for balance, and a rift opened below them. Three men fell.
"On your bellies, men!" Frank shouted above the din of the storm.
Men dropped to the ice. Frank inched towards the edge of darkness. Three men had gone under, and Frank wasn't about to give up on them. He extended his arms out over the churning waters. Hands grabbed his ankles and held on tight. Across the expanse, other men were on their bellies reaching out over the ice-plagued waters.
No signs of life showed themselves. An arm reached out of the center of the pool. His head bobbed up. He was too far out in the center.
"Swim!" Frank yelled.
The lost man seemed to hear and turned towards Frank. He started flailing like mad, only to sink again. Frank wanted to dive into the freezing waters, but he knew it would do no good.
An arm shot out of the water. Frank reached and grasped it in his. "Pull, men!"
The miners on his ankles pulled. They dragged Frank away from the edge, and the man who'd been underwater came up. Frank shouted, "Look for the other two!"
Frank inched on his belly to shore. The man he'd dragged out was shivering. They had no spare dry clothes. Frank looked at the men standing in a circle. "Find a farmhouse, or an inn, or something. Run!"
They took off. Frank stayed with the fallen man.
The men on the lake slowly gave up hope and returned to land. One of the miners came running. "A farmhouse, not far, they've got a fire going."
Frank picked the fallen man up on his shoulder and jogged.
The door was open, and the fire was raging. Frank set the other man down and just breathed for a few moments.
A man of about fifty stood there with a staff in one hand. "How many men do you have?"
"Forty-eight."
"I can take care of this one, but the rest must march on."
Frank nodded. They would march. Couldn't be more than two days left. "Is there a road?"
"A trail at best. It's an old deer trail, but you should be able to follow it."
"I've got coins. Do you have any whiskey?"
"Cider, from Juxta, aye."
"That'll do."
They exchanged coins and filled their water skins with both water and cider.
The next two days marching was uneventful. They were the first group of miners to reach Juxta's fiefdom. The ground was hard. The rocks were hard. Their pickaxes were harder still. They worked. Within a day they started pulling chunks of turquoise out of a new vein.
Chapter Isher
Juxta and Lisa were curled up in bed trying to sleep. Neither could. It was past time.
"I must summon Isher," Juxta said.
"I'll come along."
They put on robes, shoes, and thick coats. The sun had long since set on the other side of the horizon. They walked towards Juxta's trees. Monro
e stepped out of the pub as they went past.
"Midnight stroll?" Monroe asked.
"I need to talk to a dead man," Juxta replied.
"This I have to see."
Monroe followed after them.
They walked through snow and reached the grove. The trees stood dormant. Juxta said, "We must gather deadwood."
The three of them did so. Soon they had a pile of sticks. Juxta drew a hexagon on the branches and whispered, "Pyros."
A great blaze erupted.
He slammed his arcane staff into the ground and began the chant to wake the trees. Hundreds of tiny, groggy voices whispered in Juxta's mind. A grin spread across Juxta's lips. Even in winter, the trees were power and life.
A vortex of purple energy grew in the amethyst on Juxta's staff. He yelled. "Isher, I summon thee."
A wind blew through the trees. Over the fire, wisps of blue and green smoke took the form of a human being. The apparition groaned and looked around.
Monroe said, "Hello."
"You're not the one who summoned me," Isher said.
"No," Juxta said. "I did. I need to know about Quintak's crown and great sword."
"The great sword is a trinket compared to the crown. I just gave it to him so he wouldn't feel left out compared to the others who got both."
"Others?"
Isher breathed out blue fire as he laughed. "Across the seas. South of the Southern Badlands. You think you've mapped the world? Hardly."
Crap. And Isher smelled bad, like maggot infested carcass.
"How do I destroy the crown?" Juxta asked.
"Haven't we been through this before?" Isher asked. "I said I don't know."
"You've got to know something."
He turned to Lisa. "You're a priestess?"
"Retired," she replied.
"Free my soul from this curse."
Lisa shook her head. "The One True God herself put this curse on you. I doubt I have the strength."
"Help me."
"Help us," Juxta said, "and we'll try."
Isher nodded. A fresh puff of smoke bled out of his form. "I can help you."
"Tell us."
"Balron's crown and great sword were recovered by Tercian neophytes. If they find a powerful enough Necromancer to wield them, it all begins again."
Luther, Magi: Blood of Lynken II Page 19
