by Kal Spriggs
Christoffer didn't argue that. He knew that Elias was a Restorationist, but the Order of King Gordon took things much further than merely wanting the return of the High Kings. The Order actively sought to restore their rule and they lived by a code that many had considered dead for a thousand cycles.
"I suppose--"
"Your Grace!" Midshipman Jenkins hurried over to them.
Christoffer frowned a bit at the interruption, "Yes?"
"It's a message, sir," Midshipman Jenkins said quickly. He gulped as he saw Admiral Elias's frown. The young man stood straighter, "Your Grace, the Duke's Council sent this by signifier, General Schoelhorn ordered me to deliver it to you right away."
Christoffer waved a hand in prompt, "Well?"
The young officer flushed, "Uh, the Duke's Council received a message from the King of the Wold, sir. Apparently the Wold boarded a merchant ship, paid them a small fortune to deliver a message. They'd like to meet with you, in only two weeks time!"
Christoffer's eyebrows went up, "You mean he'll have an emissary meet with me?" It was a profound shock, but after the letter from his daughter, it wasn't as profound as it might have been. Perhaps this was another message from her. Certainly he doubted that the Wold had taken any interest in him or anything else outside their forest. They hadn't in all of recorded history for all he knew.
"No, Your Grace," Midshipman Jenkins shook his head, "The Wold King and his Enchantress, they'll arrive at Boirton in only two weeks!"
***
Chapter XI
Enchantress Amelia Tarken
Boirton, Duchy of Boir
22nd of Sopar, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering
For the first time in nearly a cycle, Amelia stepped foot on the ground in her homeland. The sensation was odd: one part excitement and another part sadness. This wasn't her home any longer, she knew, even without the added wisdom of the Enchantress.
It shouldn't have surprised her that the Kalakhi Salvet Khis had a small fleet. Most of the vessels were tiny, little bigger than boats, but one, what Simonel had called the "royal barge" was well over two hundred feet in length. A low, sleek thing, with raked sails. Navi Medis had danced across the water far faster than its size would have suggested.
They had chosen to disembark down the coast, yet Boirton stood in the distance, its walls still soot-stained from recent fighting. She could see other signs of destruction around them. The farm houses she could see were either gutted ruins or toppled. Amelia hoped that whatever had befallen her homeland had passed. The cold, icy sleet that fell made everything gray and dreary compared to the fall tones of the Eastwood.
Simonel stood tall beside her. "Ready, my love?"
Amelia gave a nervous sigh, "I suppose?"
She wished she'd had a chance to learn more of what had happened here in Boir. The little bit of news they had picked up told her that there was a new Grand Duke, but she had no idea who it was or how he might view their arrival.
Amelia had hoped to send another message to her father, but the merchant that Simonel normally dealt with had not returned in time. Instead they'd had to flag down a passing vessel and ask them to pass on a message for the Grand Duke. Even then, they hadn't trusted the merchants with any more information than that.
She just hoped that the merchant ship had actually delivered the message. It would be rather annoying to have to beg an audience... or to find the Grand Duke wasn't even here!
They walked down the beach and their escort fell in around them. Simonel had selected a handful of his best hunters for this task. Nanamak walked beside them, while Gantarel, finally healed from the battle on Entraluri Mitsa walked on their other side. Two others strode at the rear, all of them equipped with their best armor and weapons, the leather oiled and metal polished.
They had only walked a half mile when a half-dozen figures walked down to block their path.
They looked like normal people, two women and three men. Each of them wore weapons and armor. They were shorter than average and lean, with golden skin and dark hair. Even so, they could have passed for southerners by their dress and appearance. Yet their walk, the way they stood, all of it seemed off. She realized that it was her knowledge as the Enchantress that warned her. They had mannerisms eerily like that of the Kalakhi Salvet Khis, but different at the same time.
"You have broken the terms of the treaty," the woman at their front spoke in the old tongue.
Viani, Amelia thought, probably the Watchers that Simonel warned me about.
Simonel answered them, "I have not. It is my right as King to leave the Eastwood." He answered them in the same language. "When I leave, I am permitted an escort."
One of the Viani spat upon the ground, "You travel in the company of Khat Shavri." He pointed at Nanamak, "Had you any desire for us to believe you, you would not have brought him."
"He is here as my protector," Simonel responded. "We are here to speak with the Grand Duke of Boir about a mutual threat."
"Which is why you have kidnapped this woman, then?" Another of the Viani pointed at Amelia.
"I am here of my own will," Amelia responded in their own language. "I am born of these lands, but I am one of the Kalakhi Salvet Khis. I am their new Enchantress."
All five of the Viani stared at her in shock. She supposed they would have been just as surprised to be addressed by a dog or horse. "A wizard in the service of Andoral Elhonas has orchestrated attacks against the Kalakhi Salvet Khis as well as Boir."
"Who is this deluded child?" one of the women asked.
"I am judged adult by the Kalakhi Salvet Khis," Amelia snapped. "I have proven my skills to their satisfaction."
"Skill is no match for experience, girl," the woman snapped back.
Amelia reached out with her mind. With moderate effort she pulled the woman's name out of her mind. "Khulis Tsima, I have both skill and experience."
She saw Khulis take a step back in surprise, the warrior woman half-drawing her sword. Yet a barked command from the woman at the head of the group froze Khulis in place. "A clever trick," the other woman said. "But that does not make you an adult any more than he is a proper king."
"Your name?" Simonel asked.
The woman stood tall, "I am Tsitelli Mela." Amelia didn't recognize the name, but from the way that Simonel's eyes went wide, her husband did. Amelia studied the leader of the Viani Watchers. She was short, with a lean, whipcord frame. Unlike the others, the weapon she carried wasn't of recent manufacture. The curving blade of the spear had a bronze hue and Amelia could see the High Magic sigils worked into its surface. Her armor, too, was of similar construction to that of Ivellios, with polished bronze leaf mail worked with layers of sigils.
Simonel gave her a nod of respect, "You may discount my right to be King, but you cannot argue that is what I am."
"You are King of the Wold," Tsitelli Mela said with a sneer. "Which makes you leader of the forsworn and nothing more."
In a smooth motion, her husband drew his sword. The Viani all danced away and those who hadn't dawn their blades, did so. "I am Simonel Mistvane Valebi," Simonel called in a clear, ringing voice, using the old tongue for his last name, "This is Mede Khmali. If I did not bear Maghali Mede's blessing, I could not bear his blade."
Tsitelli Mela's face went hard, "If you think--"
Before she could continue, Simonel took the horn from his belt and blew a single note. Amelia felt a wellspring of power in that note. She felt buoyed and rejuvenated and the gray day seemed brighter and more colorful somehow.
The five Viani stared at Simonel in shock.
"This," Simonel stated, "is Medis Sakveri. Without his blessing, I could not use it."
None of the Viani had a response.
"I am the King of the People of the Eastwood," Simonel said. "I am within my rights to seek council with the rulers of the neighboring lands to learn more about a threat we all face. Do any of you still dispute that?"
Tsitelli Mela shook her head, her face still wh
ite with shock.
Simonel gave her a nod, "Then we will continue our journey." He started to walk forward and the Viani moved to the side, their faces awash with confusion and worry. How can I blame them, Amelia thought, they have spent centuries or longer watching the Eastwood, suspicious that their former enemies would emerge once more.
She put her hand on Simonel's shoulder to halt him. "A war is coming," Amelia said. "A war the likes of which this world has not seen for a thousand cycles or more." She looked directly at Tsitelli Mela as she spoke, but her words were for all of the Viani. "The time may well come when Kalakhi Salvet Khis and Maghali Khalakuri will need to unite against our common foes."
She didn't see agreement or acceptance on their faces, but she hadn't expected it. She just hoped that they would remember her words and think about them later.
A deep wound is not healed all at once, she reminded herself, it is a process that takes time and skill.
She just hoped they had that kind of time.
***
King Simonel Greeneye
The Citidel, Boirton, Grand Duchy of Boir
22nd of Sopar, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering
Simonel eyed the men who guarded the doors of the audience chamber with a critical eye. Amelia had mentioned Prefects, but these didn't match her earlier description. These men wore heavy, rune-inscribed armor. Both were stocky fighting men, with similar enough features that they could pass for brothers. The older one had the grizzled features of someone who had campaigned in wind and weather, while the younger sported a lurid scar across his cheek.
It was an obvious sign to Simonel that something had definitely changed since Amelia's departure. Whether that was something good or bad, Simonel wasn't certain.
Certainly they had been escorted into the Citidel with professional courtesy that Simonel couldn't fault. The worst that he could accuse them of was confusion at how to treat him. He took the decision of the Grand Duke not to greet them at the gates as more of a security matter than anything else. The nobility of Boir didn't know the purpose of his visit, so they would rather meet in a place of strength.
I can't blame them for that, Simonel thought with a small smile. And though he was impressed by their choice of fighting men, he felt confident enough that he could still have killed their Grand Duke if that was his intent. Not that that was his plan, of course.
After a long moment, one of the pages came to where his party awaited. "The Grand Duke will see you, now."
Simonel stepped forward and his group fell in around him. Amelia by his side, Nanamak and Gantarel to his flanks, and his other two hunters behind. The two warriors ahead pulled the doors outward and Simonel strode inside.
"King Simonel of the, uh, Eastwood," a man announced, "Along with the Enchantress and their escort."
The round council chamber was impressive, Simonel would admit. He could see how normally the leaders of the Grand Duchy of Boir would be seated around the semicircular table, looking down at those who entered their deliberations.
Today, though, they were gathered on the floor, where they would meet him on even terms. He didn't miss that signal... a sure sign that they would at least hear him out.
Simonel gave a courteous nod of his head to them, "Greetings, I am Simonel." His gaze ranged the group, trying to pick out who would be potential allies and foes. Many of the faces wore guarded expressions, but he didn't see any who were outright hostile.
Beside him, Amelia gave a similar nod, "I am the Enchantress, my name is Amelia..." She trailed off, "Father?!"
To Simonel's surprise, Amelia ran forward. He saw one of the guards step forward, but another man brushed him aside, and strode forward, "Amelia!"
Simonel's eyebrows went up as he took in the surprise of the assembled nobility. The tall, thin man who embraced his wife was clearly her father, though from the protective postures of the guards who had stepped forward, he was just as obviously far more important than she had assumed.
She said he was a military officer, he thought, and of noble blood, but this looks as if he is far more senior than that.
A moment later, one of the nobles confirmed his suspicion, "My Lord Duke… that is, Your Grace..."
The Grand Duke released Amelia from his embrace, "My apologies." The tall, almost skeletal thin man shook his head. "Some of you may not recognize my daughter --ancestors know I barely recognized her myself-- but this is her." He gave Simonel a nod, "Thank you for returning her, it will be good to have her safe her at home once more..."
Amelia spoke up then, "Father, I may have returned, but I'm afraid that this is no longer my home. She stepped back and then returned to Simonel's side. She reached out a hand and took Simonel's. "I am one of the Kalakhi Salvet Khis, now. I am their Enchantress."
Simonel could feel the weight of the silence that followed. It was a heavy thing, as if the entire room had filled with water and no one could move or speak.
"Well," a woman at Grand Duke Tarken's side said, "this is certainly unexpected."
Everyone's gaze went to her. She seemed to be either a halfblood or perhaps even one of the Armen by her features, both of which surprised Simonel. In his youth when he had traveled the outside world most people had assumed that he was a half-blood, for they had little knowledge of his own people. In that time, he had seen plenty of hostility, suspicion, and distrust as a result. He had not thought that a half-blood would be able to rise to such levels of power among those of the Five Duchies.
The Grand Duke looked between the woman and his daughter. "Ah, Amelia, this is my new wife, Siara."
Amelia's face adopted similar levels of shock. As much as it did amuse him to shake things up, much less to see his own wife speechless, he thought that a less public forum might be the better place for it. "I somehow feel as if we have a great deal to talk about in a far less public location. Perhaps we could adjourn to work out what additional surprises we all have in store?"
***
Enchantress Amelia Tarken, Queen of the Eastwood
"Wait, you're pregnant?" Amelia demanded some minutes later. "I'm going to have a half-brother?" She wasn't certain how she felt about that.
"Yes," Her new step-mother said with a friendly smile. Since the woman looked to be no older than Amelia, she really wasn't certain how she felt about all this.
"You're married?" Her father asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.
"Yes, father, there seems to be a bit of that going around," Amelia said. She noticed Siara snort at that. At least the woman had a sense of humor.
Of everyone here, only Simonel seemed relaxed. To his credit, he had kept his sense of humor in check, even as their collective bodyguards went through a delicate dance of being protective yet non-intrusive into what had gone from a formal state occasion to something more akin to a family reunion.
"Perhaps we should move to the purpose of their visit?" Siara asked.
"Yes," Christoffer nodded, "that is probably wise." He gave Simonel a nod, "Feel free to state your case."
Simonel gave him a nod in return, "It is simple enough. Both our lands have seen attacks from the same source. I trust you are already aware that the wizard Xavien has orchestrated those attacks?"
Amelia's father gave a grim nod, "Yes. I've also learned that he orchestrated attacks in the Duchy of Masov where he coordinated attacks against Lady Katarina Emberhill of Masov, at a place called Southwatch."
"He was behind the attack at Southwatch?" Amelia asked in surprise. "When we spoke to Aerion, he told us of a wizard, but I hadn't realized that Xavien was involved."
Her father gave her an odd look, "I'm not sure who this Aerion is... but yes, the information I've seen suggests it was his prompting that led the Noric and Semat Armen to attack there. I haven't passed the information on to Lady Katarina, but I'm certain that Lord Hector has put it together. I'm still not certain of Xavien's purpose there..."
"The Starblade," Amelia said with a glance at Simonel. He nodded in confirm
ation.
"The what?" Her father asked in surprise.
"The Starblade of the High Kings," Amelia said. "It was recovered at Southwatch and Xavien must have somehow known it was there. It was something I almost put into the letter to you, but I worried that the letter might fall into the wrong hands, so I decided it should be passed on in person."
Her announcement met with shocked silence. "I'm sorry to interrupt," one of her father's guardians stepped forward. "But I'm not just a sworn Armsman to your father, I'm Gervais Wachter and I am Knight of the Order of King Gordon. You are certain that this is the Starblade?"
Simonel spoke up, "I felt its power. There can be no question it is your people's Sundered Blade."
Amelia's father shook his head, "Ancestors, that's certainly destabilizing. You said it was carried by this Aerion? Does he still carry it?"
Simonel nodded, "And I believe he is once again in the service of Lady Katarina. He is also aware of what it is that he carries, which he says the spirit of Southwatch gave to him to protect."
"Ancestors," Gervais breathed. "After all this time..."
Amelia wasn't certain how it came to be that a Knight of the Order of King Gordon had come to be one of her father's protectors. For that matter, her father's other three bodyguards also wore archaic armor and their expressions were equally shocked. She had thought that the Order had little support in the Duke's Council and that the Prefects ran the Citidel's defenses and protected guests and residents alike. Certainly things had changed since the attack. For that matter, she remembered, my father said "first" attack on the Citadel.
"Your Grace," Gervais said, "with your permission, I'd like to take this information to the Order, right away--"
"Not yet," her father held up a hand. As his armsman sought to speak, he interrupted, "The information has waited this long. A few more hours will not matter. I know how you must feel about this, Gervais... but think of how dangerous it could be if this information got out before we have a handle on what to do about it. Besides, we need to learn more about the young man who carries it." Her father looked at her and raised one eyebrow, "I trust he doesn't stake a claim to the High Kingdom?"
