by P. S. Power
“I’ll handle this directly, Anders Sona. You’re all in here until dinner?”
That got a nod, even if he couldn’t speak for the others. They might have things to do. Still, as if it were a real thing, they all settled on pillows, and schooled their minds for several hours. Then he whispered to them.
“Come out of the tunnel in your mind now. Hold to calm and peace. We will go to the meal now. Lassa, attempt to hold to silence, unless others speak to you. This is not a punishment. I want you to not lose your focus. Think only of what you are doing. How it feels to stand, to breathe, to walk. Now, I think the food is... This way?”
The small eating room, large enough for six, or possibly eight, people, was the same one Anders had used the year before. This time though, instead of a team of older servants, the women who brought the food were younger.
One who he knew by name, even.
“Tena! How have you been? I’ve been meaning to speak to you again, but things kept coming up. Are you well?” He probably seemed too familiar, but no one so much as blinked at the idea. Servants in Barquea were, in the main, treated as family. It meant that, if you did the wrong thing, they’d correct you, as well as see to your needs.
“Anders! I’d heard you were in again. Are you doing any of your fine illusion shows? I know, greedy to ask first thing, but you bothered to speak to me, from afar, so that means we’re friends now, to everyone else.” She leaned in and whispered, but loud enough for the room to hear. “They all think I’m angling to be your first wife.”
Naveed smirked a bit, and Lassa, instructions to the otherwise, or not, spoke.
“You could do worse. Both of you.” Then, as if actually bothering to try, and simply not doing a great job, he went silent again. He smiled. It wasn’t nearly as annoying as it might have been.
Baret nodded.
“There is truth there. Prince Anders would be a catch for you, Miss. The other way around... well, a palace servant is practically royalty, so no one should have any issue there. Unless your masters in your far away home would find that offensive? You’re a double Prince, after all. They may seek only the finest for such things.” He winced and Naveed glared.
Anders simply winked at Tena.
“We should speak on that, later? No one back home would have an issue with that. Except, perhaps, Gull?”
That just got a saucy look from the pretty, black haired, woman.
“That’s not his business, unless he wants to take me to his home as his own wife? Not so much as a letter and you used magic to speak to me, several times. I heard that only a few people can do that at all, so that means I’m pretty special, doesn’t it?”
In a way it probably did, so he nodded, as the bowls of food, all covered, were placed in the middle of the table, the other girls watching them all, rather closely. Several examined Prince Lassa’s face.
Naveed waved in his direction.
“He’s learning to become a warrior, so had the first of his lessons, today. Take no worry over this.” The man started to serve himself, as Baret smiled and nodded, going along with the lie.
“Indeed! Now, unless we need to set a wedding, the question was about Prince Anders and a show of some sort? Are there plans for that, Anders?”
The man actually seemed interested, even if he’d had all day to ask.
“There are, actually. The Great One of Modroc, Eltha Tennet, has asked for a great show to be performed, as a gift to the people of Barquea. She could do it herself, of course, but I think she’s attempting to get me to stop being so pitiful when it comes to illusion, which is her primary area of magic. She does other things as well, of course. I’m planning a show here, in a few days, to practice, then a larger one in the city. Which I need to actually plan out this time. The last one was a bit sloppy, I’m afraid. You and your friends here can come and aid me, when I practice? Say, tomorrow night? We’ll need to do that in the room we’re doing the real show, since it’s important, given some of my new techniques.”
Prince Naveed clapped.
“That would be wonderful, if you’d all aid in that way? I would, but I fear I’ll be busy, seeing to matters of the land, for my father.”
Tena, clearly seeing what Anders was really doing, gifting the servants with their own show, in the fine space that was normally held only for the royal family, ducked her head.
“How many will you desire for that, Prince Anders?”
He thought about how many had come the last time and let his head play side to side.
“Enough to fill the small theater? This is actually important, so... Can that be cleared, Prince Naveed?” The servants could honestly be needed for their jobs, after all.
“I’ll see to it. After dinner, tomorrow?”
That worked, so he nodded, working on the plans in his head. The main thing he really had to go over was the music and integration of the people. The last time had been a bit abrupt. No one had minded too much, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted, if possible.
At the same time, he didn’t want to drop a room of people into utter blackness for half a minute, either. That would be a bit scarier than he was actually trying for.
He also needed two different shows, so that he didn’t bore people, too much.
It occurred to him, if briefly, that entertaining others wasn’t actually his job. He didn’t get paid for it, and asking for coin for his activities wasn’t a thing he’d ever even considered. Plus, if he was going to be honest, he enjoyed helping people, doing healing and even building projects, then making up entertainments. Not that knowing that about himself meant he was going to shirk his duty. For the time being, his goal was to...
He blinked, and smiled.
Then waited while the servants left the room and nearly didn’t say anything at all. Finally, he looked at Naveed and then shrugged.
“It just hit me that I don’t really have a goal in life. I just kind of... Float, from one thing to the next. Back home I’m supposed to be working on teaching magic, but here... I don’t know why I was asked to come, really. Probably to get me away from the castle. There’s a bit of worry that someone will try to get me to take over. It isn’t going to happen, of course.”
Baret took a bite of flat bread, with some cooked grain on it. Using it as a scoop, more than anything else. It was the traditional way of eating there, Anders supposed. They most often used their fingers for that process. There were rules to it, but it wasn’t a ten step process to put something into your mouth, thankfully. The formal rules in Istlan really were a bit like that.
As he chewed, the Prince waved a bit, to indicate he was hurrying, so that he could speak on the topic at hand. That or change it.
When he got the food down, there was a grin.
“You can always move here, if you want? I’m sure you’d make a fine heir, with a few more years under your belt. I mean, I’ve never been off to a war. Have you, Naveed?” The question was asked in a way that indicated the answer was already known.
Instead of humbling the other Prince, Anders shook his head.
“If all goes well, we won’t have wars every five years or anything. That kind of means I need to do things outside of that. Besides, I’m not certain you want a King, or a Sula, who’s too involved in that kind of thing. I mean, it might not hurt for you to go to the front, or to do some exercises with the military, so you know what you’re asking others to do, but a man who loves war isn’t the person you want in a time of peace. They’ll constantly be looking for an excuse to fight. Even if they don’t look for it, that should be the last option on anyone’s list, not the first.” Anders shrugged. “Which I suppose this situation works for, pretty well? I heard that my place on a certain list is about to drop a bit?”
He smiled, since it really was a fine enough trade. Even for Lassa. At least if he bothered not to be too troublesome.
Naveed looked at the door, even though no one was coming in at all.
“That... I know what he said, an
d how you took it, but it isn’t exactly what will happen. It was a test, to see if you cared more for power than for family. I think he forgot for a moment that you’re from a different land. Then you answered correctly, even in spite of that. We all know what that kind of things means, here. You didn’t. And still, you were willing to give up status and power, to save a life. One that...” He glared then at Lassa, but didn’t speak about why that was.
Baret sighed.
“Which... Even though the Great One said you should kill Lassa, you might want to find a way around that? He’ll do what he needs to. Right Lassa? You can meditate and work with our younger sister, Lissa, on magic. Just... Pretend to be good, for a while, at least? Also, what were you thinking? Prince Anders isn’t just some boy who was given a better position than you have here. He earned it. Also, he’s important in Istlan. They’re far from here, but also our friends. What if you killing him meant they retaliated by proclaiming war, or killing some of our sisters? They have three of them there.”
Lassa looked down at his plate, and didn’t speak. Not for a long time. When he did, his voice was tired sounding. As if he might have had a difficult day. Which was probably true, if not a thing that Anders was going to give him any sympathy for.
“I was thinking that, if I scared him enough, he wouldn’t want to work with me. You know, I stab him a little, six or seven times, not a lot, then... I didn’t really consider anything past that. I just want to play and have fun, not do... Whatever it is I’ll have to now.”
Instead of answering, Anders ate, trying not to take more food than was his portion, even if he was kind of starving. A day of healing was enough work to really count, as far as using energy up went.
When they finished, they simply stood, and started to leave. Which was fine enough.
“We all need to go over the meditation, first. In the morning, if she’ll take you on as a student, you should get with Lissa. Prince Baret, will you be willing to sit with them for that? It’s a lot to ask, but I promised people my efforts in the market place.”
Instead of insisting he was needed to protect Anders, he simply shrugged.
“That sounds boring. I can see to it. I guess. I can’t really use magic, myself.”
Anders shrugged.
“If you actually try, I bet you can. Tell Lissa I said that and see what she says? If nothing else, the way we’re learning new things is a good memory exercise, so you should learn the process, even if you can’t do magic with it later. It’s useful.”
That was all he said, until everyone was out of the room. Then, instead of going to his room to work, he went back in with Prince Lassa, the others making their own escapes, and meditated for another three hours. Even Anders was feeling a bit bored by the time he shooed Lassa out the door.
“Find Princess Lissa first thing in the morning. I’ll be back at mid-day.” He sighed then and shook his head. “Lassa... You have to know that you almost died today. Not just because I nearly killed you, or Mikail or Prince Baret did, even though that happened too. The Sula and Depak Sona both nearly called for that. Probably to stop a war. Yes, your father was glad that I came up with a way to save you, but you can’t fail in this now. If you do... Well, we might both end up dead.”
The boy, even having recently been in a trance, smirked.
“That isn’t real, Prince Anders. Father was just saying all of that, because he doesn’t like me to have fun. We’ll be fine.”
Anders snagged his arm before he could turn and bounce away, down the smooth stone hallway.
“That’s what I mean, Lassa. I encountered his thoughts, using magic. Everyone there, in fact. What he was saying wasn’t a jest or a ruse to get you to do better. He was thinking of the pain he will feel if you must be put to death for your actions. We still have to contact Istlan and... I won’t lie, I’m going to have to be clever to save you. Technically I don’t have a real way to stop a war from this... So, do what I say for the next weeks? It will be tempting to try and make up a story about how things are normal for you here, but they really, truly, aren’t.”
It was clear the other boy didn’t believe him. He even rolled his eyes.
“You worry too much, Prince Anders. It will be fine. Still, I can sit in lessons and fail at magic in the mornings for a while. It isn’t fun, being punished this way, but it isn’t the servants being beaten for it either.”
Anders blinked.
“Sorry, I missed that. How would you frame the servants for things like this? Is that why you wore a mask?”
There was a nod.
“In part. Also, after I stabbed you, and ran off, no one would be able to prove it was me. When we get caught doing minor things wrong, one of the servants is normally thrashed for it, with a switch. To make us feel bad?”
Anders had never heard of that before. They certainly didn’t do it that way in Istlan.
“Well, from now on, you take the thrashings. You’re an adult, after all.”
The boy actually laughed.
“Ah, the humor in your home land is very different than ours here. Funny, though! I will see you tomorrow? I need a drink, after the day I had.”
Anders growled and then didn’t bite his tongue.
“No. Nothing like that. Go and sleep, nothing else.”
That got waved at as the boy moved off down the hall. Probably pretending not to hear him. Anders nodded and then smiled slightly to himself.
“I made a mistake, trying to keep him alive. Now, I’m probably going to end up dead, aren’t I?” That or fleeing Barquea in shame, after killing Lassa himself.
The trick would be in making Lassa do something silly that ended his own life. How that could be done, Anders had no clue at all. Instead of worrying too much, he moved back through the door into his room, and sat again, on a nice, rather large, blue pillow. His legs crossed under him.
Then he focused his thoughts, and thought about what he needed to be doing. The first thing, honestly, was to get in touch with Ambassador Belford. If they were going to stop a war, that man would be needed to help repair everything, on both sides of the balance. That meant seeking the fellow with his wizard skills...
Only to find that he was four doors down, in the same hallway. Still awake for the day, as well.
It was annoying of him, but he got up, still in a trance, watching the world for assassins, since that had happened once that day already, and moved to the correct door, knocking gently.
When it opened, it was Mistress Belford, who stood there in shock for several moments, finally hugging him.
“Anders! We’d heard that you were in Barquea again. In fact, we were just plotting out a way to see you, in the coming days. Come in. Come in.” She turned, and called out, her voice friendly and relaxed sounding. “Nicoa! It’s Anders, come to visit.” There was a slightly too loud aspect to her voice. She was also speaking in Barquean.
Which meant something. Probably that she feared spies were about. A thing that might well be true. He hadn’t noticed that yet, but it could simply mean that their watchers were high quality ones. Probably the servants, but there could be others there as well.
Baron Belford walked out of a joined space, dressed in black and blue, a cloth that seemed like velvet, only had a fine pattern woven into it, at the same time. That seemed like small, slightly shining triangles.
Instead of starting out by beating him with a stick, the man bowed. Using second courtly. Anders matched him, his left hand out. Empty as well, since any letters or papers that had been sent hadn’t come with him, on that trip. Probably meaning that Prince Erold had that kind of thing.
“Anders!” He spoke in Istlan then, his voice happy seeming, even if the words weren’t at all. “Use this language, and seem as if we’re having a reunion? You were attacked, earlier? We heard of that, but no one will tell us more than that. Only that it was real and rather dire in some fashion. You seem... Fine. Did the assassins live?”
Sighing, he nodded. Then faked a smi
le and spoke through it, as if related things from his trip.
“Prince Lassa. Masked, like those who sought to kill Sweyn were, those years back? First a thrown knife and then with a sword. He’s alive. A bit bruised. After he failed with the weapons, he decided that I wouldn’t be allowed to kill him if he continued unarmed. I beat him for about fifteen minutes, after that. Then I got the Sula to spare him, since I’d been assigned to help in his training yesterday. He’s... I’m under orders from Depak to kill him, if he won’t get into line. At the same time, the Sula indicated that doing this might well drop my ranking to about fiftieth place on the list. Thankfully, I don’t actually care about that part. Naveed thinks that was something different. A threat to test my mettle, perhaps?”
Both of the Belfords closed their eyes then, with Nicoa returning to himself faster than his wife, even if she were, Anders thought, well over five hundred years old. Lady Martya had memories of her from her own early life, at least. Not from the crystal that had made her, in part, Ganges.
Master Belford took a very deep breath.
“Which makes our current lack of information on this understandable. How do we handle this, with King Matheus?”
He nearly froze, then, after a moment, he grinned and shrugged, in a way that had to be too rude, when addressing the Ambassador from his own homeland.
“Simple. We tell the truth, and that I, probably foolishly, begged to have this prince’s life spared. Then I simply need to make it look like Prince Lassa has repaired himself, for at least a while. A few weeks of training here, then... I... Honestly, I think we should put him in the military. Well away from here. The Princes here do that, sometimes.” It was a bit mean to do, to the innocent troopers who would have to put up with him, but it was, likely, better than even a small war between their lands.
Mistress Belford clapped her hands together.
“Ah! How wonderful. Yes, we can do that. It doesn’t fix the fact that he tried to murder you though, Anders. What’s to stop him from trying again?”
