by Garon Whited
“Can you do it now?” she asked, eagerly.
“Yes, but I think we should ask your mother. I don’t want to do anything to make her mad.”
“Yeah,” Tianna agreed, slouching. “She’s been upset for a while, now.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” she repeated.
Amber came in at that point. Tianna brightened up considerably—and that’s not just a metaphor. She brightened, illuminating the room, and ran to her mother to hug her about the waist.
“Mom! Grandpa says he could make it safe for me to play with other kids!”
“Only,” I prompted.
“—but only if you say it’s okay,” Tianna added.
“I’ll explain it to you,” I offered, “later. I actually came over to see you in your role as the Princess of Mochara.”
Amber looked from Tianna to me and back to Tianna.
“You go upstairs and say your afternoon prayers.”
“Mom! Bronze is outside. Can I go riding? Please? Pleasepleaseplease?”
Amber looked at me, almost glared at me.
“Hey,” I told her, “I’m okay with it if you are. But if she’s got prayers she’s supposed to say, I’m not going to argue.”
“Maybe after you say your prayers, and say them properly—I’ll check! Hurry through them and you’ll start over!”
“Yes, Mom!” Tianna said, dopplering into the distance.
She stuck her head back in for a moment.
“You’re going to be here for a while, aren’t you?”
“I think so.”
“Good!” She disappeared again. I smiled and shook my head.
“She’s a darling,” I noted.
“She is,” Amber agreed. Then she moved to a bench and seated herself, brisk and businesslike. “What did you want to see me about?”
“How do I say this? Hmm.” I thought about it for a moment. “I’m told that you regard yourself as the ruler of Mochara.”
Amber simply looked at me, waiting. For a fire priestess, she’s awfully good at the freezing stare.
“Is that correct?” I asked, forcing an answer.
“Yes.”
“Good!” I said. She blinked, surprised. “I’m glad we got that out of the way. Now, the next question is, given that I’m your father and the King of Karvalen, how do you feel about being the Princess of Karvalen, currently governing the second-largest city in the kingdom?”
Amber frowned and looked away. She seemed to be thinking hard, so I just sat quietly and waited.
“You imply,” she said, finally, “that, as the Princess, I would be under your authority.”
“As far as being the Princess goes, yes.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Okay. I’ll appoint another governor.” I stood up and moved to pick up the mirrors.
“Wait! You can’t do that!”
That phrase again.
I rounded on her and put us almost nose-to-nose. She flinched backward and away.
“I want you to think back to a night not too long ago when your front door burned behind me. Then consider what happened to the last religious institution that made killing me a personal issue. Then think about the fact that, for better or for worse, I am the King of Karvalen. And, perhaps the most telling of all, I am also your father. Think about all those things before you dare to tell me what I can’t do.”
I turned back to the mirrors and wrapped them up again. I was almost finished before she spoke.
“I… apologize. I misspoke.”
Rather than pick up my packages, I returned to a bench.
“I accept your apology. You’re my daughter, after all. Let’s pretend that didn’t happen. How’s that?”
“All right.”
“So, let me try again. I’m trying to do my best for a kingdom—this kingdom. I have started diplomatic relations and a possible trade agreement with Baret, I’m planning a war with Vathula, and I might be sounding out the people of the plains for a variety of things. Hell, I might even have a talk with the sea-people about protecting our shipping and defending Mochara from raiders.
“I’m also trying to get beggars off the streets and working, improving industry, enhancing the fortifications of Mochara and Karvalen, developing new weapons for Mochara’s coastal defenses, and I really, really want to improve Mochara’s sewage disposal to get rid of that awful smell.
“In order to do all this more effectively, I’d like to avoid spending a half-hour to ride here every day, then another half-hour riding back, and still being out of touch with one city or another. I need someone who is trustworthy, competent, intelligent, sensible, incorruptible, honest, shrewd, and willing to show initiative and imagination in carrying out my plans. I also need someone who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m being an idiot, or afraid to just point out what he or she thinks is a flaw in my plans.
“I’d like that someone to be you,” I finished.
“I… I’m not sure what… I…”
“It doesn’t have to be you,” I added. “You might not want to—yes, to take orders from the King. Sparky might not appreciate that. Excuse me,” I said, sincerely. “I don’t mean to offend. I should say that the Mother of Flame might not appreciate that. Please forgive me.”
“Surely.”
“My point is, if you don’t think you can do the job the way I want it done, you don’t have to do it. It would be easiest for me if you did; everyone here is used to you and knows you. If you tell them that the King orders it, they’ll jump.
“I can appoint another governor,” I went on, “but then the two of you will bang heads like dazhu in the springtime. I’d rather avoid that, if I can.
“What do you think? I want your honest opinion.”
She looked troubled for a long time. I waited.
“You say you are doing much for Karvalen. Do you truly have the best interests of the people in mind?”
“I believe I do. I can make mistakes, though, which is why I want competent people working with me.”
“I don’t know. I can’t make this decision on my own. I’ll have to ask Her about it.”
“By all means.”
“And what are you doing with the mirrors? You brought them for some purpose.”
“Ah. You’re my daughter, all right. Yes, I intend to enchant them as communication devices. One of them I’ll leave here, with whoever winds up ruling the place, and I’ll take the other back to Karvalen, so we can talk to each other easily.”
Amber got up and paced. She seemed genuinely troubled.
“You know that I… that if I disobey…?”
“I know. I also know that I’ve already transplanted T’yl’s soul into the immortal body of an elf-man.” Her eyes widened and I shrugged. “Just a thought.”
“How? How can you do this?”
I made a slight burping noise and lightly thumped my chest, as though for heartburn.
“I have talents.”
Amber paced around the room, faster, thinking furiously.
“I know,” I said. “It’s a lot to take in. How about I just come back tomorrow?”
“That might be best,” Amber allowed, still pacing. “I have to think. This is not a decision to be made in haste.”
“Fair enough. Oh! Tianna. She’s going to want to ride Bronze; she’s expecting to. If I stay in Mochara for a while, can she? Or would you feel comfortable letting her ride with me back to Karvalen? I can bring her back with me for our meeting tomorrow.”
Amber paused, looking at me. I saw suspicion flash across her face, followed by a profound embarrassment, possibly even shame at whatever she was thinking.
“Yes. Take her to Karvalen, and bring her back. I will spend the night in thought and prayer. And…” she trailed off.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Why are you so… so… nice?”
I sat there and stared at her for a minute.
“You know,” I said, “I’ve been accused of a
lot of things, called a lot of names, but I think this might be the first time anyone has ever asked me that. Maybe I don’t understand what you mean. What do you mean?”
“You do nice things for people,” she replied. “You kill some, yes, but you seem to try and only take the ones who are ready to go, like…” she trailed off. “And then, you keep on doing nice things again. Even when the Mother tried… tried to kill you… you didn’t say anything about the temple, or the preaching, or forbidding her worship. I thought you would do something like that at the very least.
“But you don’t do that; you don’t do anything like I expect!”
“Such as?” I prompted, interested.
“You… well, you fix people. You use spells to fix things that I can’t afford to spend the time on, or don’t have the faintest idea how to fix, as healing is one of Her minor aspects. Yet, you do it for free, without asking anything of anyone, and you don’t even point out… you don’t use that against the Mother, or me. You just do it and ignore it, like… like the sun shining!”
First time I’ve ever been compared to sunshine in a non-incendiary manner. I kept my mouth shut and let her go on.
“And then,” she continued, “you find ways to help beggars get out of the gutter. You pay attention even to gutter-sweepings! And you’re defending a city that you think might be… well, not entirely loyal to you. You’re working harder than anyone I’ve ever heard of, and you’re a king, who shouldn’t have to dirty his hands with pouring his own wine, much less crawling in the dust to train soldiers.” She shook her head and sat down heavily.
“And then you’re always trying to be nice to me, the person who channeled the force of the Goddess to kill you—and you didn’t die! I know you haven’t forgotten that, and I can’t forget it. I expected some sort of vengeance for that, and it keeps… not happening. You act like you care about Tianna, which I can sort of understand, since she’s likable and your kindness to children is part of your legend. But you also act like you give more than half a damn about me, and you barely know me!
“I just don’t understand,” she said, almost wailed. “What are you? A nightlord? A king? A hero? You can’t be just a man, and I’m afraid of what you might be!”
I listened to her until she wound down, then I nodded.
“I see your problem. You’ve missed something fundamental, here, and it’s probably because it’s so obvious. It’s like walking through a room on your way to the privy, then not being able to remember what the tapestry on the wall looked like. It’s so obvious, you just can’t see it.”
“What? What am I missing?”
“I’m your father.”
She stared at me, openmouthed, and nothing came out.
“That means,” I went on, calmly, “whatever else I am, I am your father. I’ll cheerfully put you in charge of Mochara and show you what sort of good things I want to do for it, then ask you to help. If you don’t want to be in charge, you don’t have to be; you can do whatever you want. You’re my daughter, but you’re also a grown woman; you can make your own decisions without my interference.
“I’ll ask you for your help without demanding it. I’ll help you however I can, just because you ask for it. I’ll even help your goddess, but not because she asks—I’ll help her if you ask, as my daughter, not as the priestess. Meanwhile, I’ll do my best to ignore her, rather than risk irritating her, because you would get caught in the middle.”
I smiled grimly and cracked my knuckles.
“You are also under my protection, in addition to that of your goddess. I may not protect you as immediately and directly, but I damn sure will avenge you if anything does happen to you—and anyone with a grain of sense will have to consider that before moving to hurt you. And, that includes the Mother of Flame.”
“You would…?”
“We’ve had a talk,” I said. “Well, Father Sky and I did; he seemed upset with me on her behalf. I haven’t been cut in two by lightning or set on fire, so I think we have a truce. You might ask her about it and see what she thinks.”
“I might. Tonight. While I’m praying about your offer.”
“Well, whenever you get around to it.” I stood up. “I’ll let Tianna ride Bronze while I work on these mirrors, if that’s okay with you. I’d rather not carry both of these back and forth.”
“Of course. She should be done in a little while.” Amber stood up and moved over to take my hands.
“You know,” she said, softly, “I don’t know what to make of you.”
“As long as it isn’t a pile of ashes,” I said, smiling.
“Not that,” she said, looking serious. “I’ve always… that is, I never had a father, you know.”
“And I regret that.”
“So you said. And I thought, at the time, that it was incredibly egotistical of you.”
“I do that.”
“Please shut up. I’m trying to say something.”
I shut up. Amber took a deep breath.
“What I am trying to say… I think… maybe you would have been a good father. I don’t know. I don’t have anything to compare you to. Maybe you would be a terrible father, but you’re a wonderful grandfather. Maybe I missed something important by not having you, or someone. How can I tell? But…” she said, and paused to take another deep breath.
“I am pleased that you trust me with this offer, and I will have an answer for you tomorrow, at noon. And… thank you, Father.”
I looked at her. She looked at me.
“Can I talk, now?” I asked.
“You are not always a nice man,” she said, exasperated. “Yes!”
“You’re welcome,” I said, simply. She smiled a little and nodded.
“I’ll go ask Tianna if she wants to visit Grandpa.”
Silly question.
Tianna finished her prayers and went out to ride Bronze. Bronze had her wrapped in mane again while they took a walk; Tianna held on to the ears and kept urging Bronze to go faster.
I finished enchanting the pair of mirrors via the brute-force method: build the structure and dump a lot of power into it. A better technique is to build the structure and slowly reinforce it over time, allowing it to grow more organically, but I was in a hurry. I did go to the trouble to make sure the enchantments were well-built, though; I wanted them to take advantage of the weird reverse-entropy effect of a well-crafted enchantment, rather than unravel over the next few years.
I left one mirror with Amber and used its quilting to make some straps and ties for the other; it wasn’t too heavy for me, but it was bulky, awkward, and was a big, flat thing about to be exposed to a strong wind.
Tianna and I went by the canal on our way out of town. I looked over the canal’s spillover, and, yes, Tort was right; it had more of a waterfall. It also had a recessed area behind it. I thought a waterwheel would fit in there easily.
We also paused to examine the boatwrights’ work. The new canal barge was coming along very well. It looked much more like a real boat than the first one. I suppose that’s what building a prototype will do for your production model. That, and having a shortage of timber; it means you can take more time on each piece, rather than just knocking it together.
At least the timber shouldn’t be a problem, soon. I hope.
After encouraging the boatwrights, we headed northward, along the canal road. I had a word with Bronze about safety. She assured me that she would be extremely careful with our delicate cargo.
She was. And Tianna made squeeeee! noises all the way to the mountain. I’m not sure she paused for breath. Really, I’m not sure. I wondered how she did that. I also tried to keep low in the saddle; her hair rippled out behind her like a flag and kept attacking my face. It wasn’t a bad thing, I suppose, but it did remind me rather uncomfortably of standing in a rocket blast.
I didn’t relax until we were over the main bridge and had slowed to zig-zag up through the city.
When we arrived in the throne room, I had a word w
ith the man on guard duty about rounding up some of the younger citizens; he assured me it wouldn’t be a problem. Then I unstrapped the mirror from Bronze’s side and helped Tianna down.
Tianna dismounted reluctantly, but elected to follow me around while she recovered her breath. I was very pleased; I didn’t think anything could pry her away from Bronze.
We dropped off the mirror in a large room that I decided to make a conference room. I leaned the mirror against one wall so the mountain could embed it and move it up to a comfortable viewing level. I also lined out what I wanted in a table, traced it with spell lines, and gave the mountain the message. We would still need to get some chairs in here, though.
We also visited Beltar. I introduced Tianna to him and he saluted. She giggled.
“Tianna,” I said, “do you see the unconscious guy next to Beltar?”
“Yep.”
“Do you know what he’s doing?”
Tianna regarded him carefully, aware that “just lying there” was probably not the right answer.
“Is he living into Beltar?”
“He is. Very good!” I told her, and she beamed. “Can you see the life energy going from one to the other?”
“Yes, but I don’t know how it’s doing it.”
“It’s a spell I built. It lets someone help a wounded friend get better.”
“Oh. It’s like when I put life into someone?”
“Very much like it. Would you like to practice?”
“Well… okay.”
I disconnected Beltar and his current helper—Magron, I believe. I also made sure the spells to direct his body in healing faster were in good working order.
Tianna put her little hands on Beltar’s hands and frowned in ferocious concentration. Her hair started to glow and Beltar took a deep breath, as though he’d just felt something odd. Which, of course, he had.
A moment later, Tianna let go of him.
“There you go,” she said to him. “You should be all better soon.”
“Thank you, my lady,” he replied, and saluted again. Tianna giggled again, more at being referred to as a lady than the salute, I think.
