by D. H. Aire
“Will she be all right?” the Lyai asked him, holding the hand of the once more beautiful elvin woman.
Balfour merely replied, “That will depend on good old-fashioned elvin resilience, Milord.”
The Lyai’s healer came over and offered him a restorative drink. Balfour smiled gratefully. “If I may, could we talk about what you just did?”
“Certainly, Master.”
“Kimran and you are…?”
“Balfour.”
“Who trained you, if I may ask?”
Balfour understood immediately what the healer was seeking to learn. “I trained under many experienced Masters.”
“Faeryn Masters?”
He shook his head, “I served as Master Ofran’s personal apprentice.”
The elvin healer jerked backward, “The Healer Master of Masters?”
“Is there another?”
Hastily, the healer glanced triumphantly at Galt, “Not a Faeryn healer in the least, then.”
Balfour laughed heartily, “No, of that I can assure you. I heal using none of their arts.”
Galt shrugged sheepishly, “You will be welcome among us if this one’s fellows ignore your due.”
“The Empress, forefend! Such would disrespect the healing arts. Master Balfour, I am about to check on the Lord Chancellor, would
you care to join me?”
“Honored.”
Cle’or slowly replaced the dagger she had nearly drawn. She turned to gaze warily for more physical threats as her lord spoke with those around them.
Galt noticed the movement and whispered to her, “You may yet want to
use that on his Excellency, the Chancellor.”
She nodded and almost grinned, savoring the possibility.
The ogre reached into the tub as Thomi and Amira bobbed back to the surface. Both were gasping and holding onto each other for dear life. Walsh smiled as Amira glanced at him wearily and muttered, “Aw, Hell.”
“What?” Thomi rasped.
She hugged him close, “Fine, you can be more than useful. Just remember, I’m a Consecrated scryer… that’s a virgin’s gift.”
“Huh?”
Walsh was grinning.
“Oh, don’t you start. Fine, we’ve years yet before I need worry about…”
“About what?”
“Good, keep thinking that way and we’ll get along just fine. Thomi, what did I say about watching your hands!”
He held them up, “What are you taking about?”
“Oh,” she muttered, blushing.
The sound of a laughing ogre isn’t for the faint of heart.
“Everything’s all right, I see,” Talik said neutrally.
Thomi was frowning, “I’m not sharing my room!”
Walsh watched as Amira muttered, “Milord Talik, this had better be good. Thomi and I need our rest.”
He nodded at the red cheeked pair sat up stiffly holding up the bed’s heavy covers.
Talik asked, “You scried Lyai?”
“Yes, I did,” she replied.
“Everything’s fine,” Thomi said, “Balfour healed her.”
“Who?” Amira asked.
“Uh, Healer Balfour,” Thomi said.
“You saw him in the scrying?” Amira said in disbelief.
“It was like a dream,” he replied.
“You actually had a vision?” Talik mused, “That… should not have been possible.”
Amira shook her head, “He couldn’t have seen anything. Humans can’t
do magery.”
“Well, I did!” Thomi averred.
Talik nodded and chuckled, “It is also unheard of for wards to bond to a human lord…”
“When has there been a human lord?” Amira replied.
Walsh beamed, “NI––O––TA – did –– good.”
“Niota did very good,” Thomi assured him.
“Then I –– tired –– go –– sleep –– dream of –– voy –– age.”
Talik frowned as Thomi wished him well and the ogre shambled into the next room. There was a reverberating thud as the ogre laid down. “What was that about dreaming of a voyage? He planning a trip?” Talik asked.
Thomi shook his head, how could he explain Walsh’s dreams of traveling across the stars long before the Empire even existed? He replied instead, “It’s his way.”
The Lady Mother fought against the bindings and talisman that warded her. The room was dark and damp, heavily shielded from any chance of spellcasting. She heard a sudden scraping noise, knowing she was no longer alone.
“You failed.”
“Free me! I can yet make this right!”
The presence in the darkness seemed to consider. “Free you I shall.
You will not fail our Master again.”
Her eyes widened in fear, “Please, no.”
Then she felt searing agony and nothing more.
Esperanza opened her eyes to splendor. She lay in the most luxurious of beds. “Ah, you are awake?” said the elvin young man.
“Where am I? This must be the afterlife.”
He chuckled. “No, I would hope the afterlife would have better taste.”
She stared, “But –– but this room is incredible!”
“Incredibly gaudy, you mean.”
She blinked, “Uh, who are you?”
His smile warmed her. “Well, you asked to see me I seem to recall.”
Gaping, she muttered, “Lord Lyai?”
“Oh, none of that please. Just call me Lee –– that, at least, is the name I
was born with.”
He realized as he looked at her –– seeming physically fully recovered. Even aged, he had to admit, there had been a beauty about her. She gave him a hesitant smile. She was very lovely.
Lord Amberlet’s worst fears were about to be realized. The Lyai had just fallen hopelessly in love with a woman who had been accused of treason. Let the Lady Mother rue the day she ever set foot in his palace and tried to murder her, the Lyai told himself as he gently sat on the edge of the bed. “You need not fear. Master Galt has explained the situation –– and the Lady Mother will bother no one ever again.”
The finality of his words should have comforted her, but somehow did not. The Lyai took her hand. “All will be well, I promise.” He just hoped he could keep his promise.
Terhun was summoned after the terrified guard who had brought the Lady Mother dinner, found her dead.
The Lyai’s mages were even now trying to ascertain how it had happened. Galt arrived at his invitation minutes later. “This is a terrible piece of business.”
Terhun nodded. “The question remains. How did anyone have the time to accomplish all this without aid of magery?”
Galt looked at the grisly scene, “It would seem there must have been time enough.”
The Lyai’s spymaster turned back outside to question the guards on duty, who had no trace of having been spell cast into allowing an intruder to pass unseen and enter this chamber. Would doubling the guards around the Lyai prove enough to prevent whoever did this doing much worse?
Business is Business
Chapter 55
Se’and glanced out the palace window. Imperial legionnaires were marching from their fortress and heading toward the Lower City’s East Gate. “It looks like the Empire’s sending troops somewhere.”
“I’m sure Thomi will appreciate the help,” George replied, coming up behind her.
‘He good kid,’ Raven said mentally to her foster-father.
:George, I’m detecting –– something… a pattern.:
“Remain on passives,” George muttered ever so quietly.
:I am, but it’s seismic in nature. I am detecting micro quakes like I sensed when Walsh was communing with Niota,: Staff noted. :The pattern is shaping up linguistically.:
“Okay,” he seemed to be saying to himself as he leaned on his staff. “Any particular language?”
:It is encrypted.:
“W
hat?”
:It is one we know. It is Questor’s colonial code.:
George shook his head and muttered, “Origin?”
:I cannot judge that on passives.:
“Translation.”
:It is a query seeking a data dump.:
“It might help to triangulate, correct?”
:If I am really to remain on passives, yes.:
He smiled at Se’and, “If we don’t see the Lyai soon, I think we should cross town and visit the market district.”
“Really?” she replied, her gaze narrowing.
He nodded.
A Herald entered the court and approached them, “I’m sorry, Master Jeo, but the Lyai will be unavoidably detained for the rest of the day. However,
Lord Amberlet would like to meet with you.”
“Lord Amberlet? The Chancellor?”
“Yes, but please understand he is not particularly well this afternoon. So, please try to keep your meeting short.”
“Not well?” George said.
“There was some unpleasantness and Lord Amberlet –– has had much to deal with. Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me.”
Archmage Constandine looked out the window at the troops leaving the provincial capital. The Scryer’s Network was already reporting the deaths of over three score scryers who had attempted blackest magery. The strongest tower, of course, led each province’s network. Until recently that had been the Consecrated’s Tower. “Which tower is now the acknowledged leader?”
The scryer beside him glanced up from his bowl of rippling water, “It’s… Niota, Milord Archmage.”
“What?”
“They just sent a message. Archmage Talik and an Imperial detachment have beaten back an invasion attempt. The Lyai’s ordered all scryers in the network to have legionnaires sent to reinforce the local troops.”
“Under Talik’s personal command?” he asked, beginning to smile. He could twist that to his advantage.
“No, Lord and Lady Niota’s.”
“What?! That old fool, Lord Niota’s, not married!”
The scryer looked back into the bowl, shivered, “Lady Niota sends… ‘Regards to you, Archmage, my husband and I hold our ancestral keep and are its holders of the Scryer’s Tower… Relay to Imperial Legion,’” he then said, stiffening, “‘tracking three thousand Trelorian infantry massing at the base of the Niota cliffs… Tracking a Gwedian regiment heading south to join them. Number, five thousand minimum under the standard of Fenn du Blain. Tracking one thousand Gwedian calvary and two thousand Trelorian infantry heading south toward Edous… Rian Network, do you scry?’”
A scryer’s page was writing down every word as Lyai guardsmen listened enrapt.
“‘Rian Scryers to Lyai Scryer… It’s unbelieveable. We’ve dozens dead,
they were blasted by something out of the network. Our leadership… they were under illusion. We don’t know who these elfbloods even are. Lyai Network: who is leadership?’”
Boys in page livery were filling the room, while older lads in Scryer’s Guild livery were scribing reports. “‘This is Niota,’” the scryer intoned. “‘I’ve taken leadership. I was trained at the Consecrated’s Tower. Are you scrying the Crescent Lands?’”
The scryer took a deep breath, then rasped, “‘We thought we were. What we’re seeing now is Trelorian troops with siege engines. Their capital is flying Gwed’s flag. By the First Empress, how could we have missed that?’”
Constandine backed out of the Lyai’s Scryer’s Hall, shaken. What was going on? Talik was looking like a bloody hero. Once in the hall he was careful not to run, knowing he had little time to retrieve anything from the ashes of this fiasco.
Lord Amberlet was seated and shouted at his herald, “Get out! Leave us!”
The man looked at them, pleadingly, as he left.
“So, what do you know of all this?”
“Lord Chancellor?” said the merchant, Jeo d’Aere.
Amberlet sat back, “Do you think I do not employ my own spies, you fool? I know of Terhun’s interest in you… and, of course, the damn Faeryn mages stake in your affairs.”
“Excuse me, Milord?”
“So, you would play innocent with me? Fine, I am not your enemy, whether you believe it or not. So, know this: the Lyai has apparently fallen in love at first sight with that scryer girl, Lady Esperanza. The Lady Mother, the leader of the Northern Scryer Network, attempted to kill her, but some healer brought up from the Lower City saved her miserable life. Then, the Lady Mother was found dead in her cell an hour ago. I would have asked the Lyai’s Chief Scryer to investigate, but no one could find him until a half hour ago. He’s dead, at least who he appeared to be is dead. No one recognized him –– he was a goblin, you see –– A GOBLIN IN THIS PROVINCIAL PALACE!”
The chancellor was practically sobbing as he said, “And I was blaming Archmage Talik for leaking our secrets to the Demonlord’s spies.” He shook his head, “And where’s Talik? Why, he’s defending Niota from invasion –– and half the Faeryn left before dawn to reinforce the keep since he couldn’t depend on us sending legionnaires. I have been such a fool.”
Se’and glanced at George as the old elf straightened. “Well,” Amberlet said, “it would seem my regency and time as chancellor will go down as one of the greatest debacles in Imperial history… which is why I’ve asked you here.”
George frowned and leaned on his staff.
“You see, I can’t trust anyone it would seem… But you, the Faeryn trust you. Terhun, well, I’m guessing he trusts you. Since he made sure you could get an audience today of all days… Oh, and the Mage Guild hates you. That’s something else in your favor. So, it occurred to me that I should deputize you to serve in my stead.” Amberlet rose. “Consider yourself sworn in. Serve his Grace for as long as it takes the boy to come to his senses about that scryer girl. Merchants know business. Governing is business and the Court’s in chaos. Help Lee, he’s a fine, if too idealistic lad.” That said he walked out of the room without a backward glance.
The Herald returned and gave a bow as Se’and, Fri’il, and Raven all stared at George.
:Now isn’t that dandy,: staff quipped.
George didn’t reply. He was speechless.
The door opened. His hope that it was Lord Amberlet returned to his senses, were dashed the moment the Herald returned and said, “Milord… I’m sorry, but I need to introduce you to his Highness the Lyai, then to the Court.”
“What the Hell are you talking about?” George yelled.
Swallowing hard, “Lord Chancellor, please…”
The Lyai looked up as the Herald first whispered to Master Terhun, who looked startled, then began to laugh, saying, “Really? He did?”
“Terhun, what is it this time?” the young elf lord asked.
Esperanza tried to rise from bed, “You need me to scry?”
“No, lay back, Esperanza,” the Lyai replied. “You’ve done enough today.”
She settled back as Terhun gestured to the Herald, who straightened,
“Your Grace, Lord Amberlet has stepped aside as your Chancellor. He’s
temporarily appointed in his stead, uh, Jeo d’Aere, the merchant of the Crescent Land’s trade route I’ve told you so much about.”
The Lyai gaped, “He… He’s appointed a human… and a foreigner, no less?”
The Herald bowed and gestured for the merchant and his retinue to enter the Lyai’s suite. The Herald then backed out of the room and closed the door.
Terhun chuckled, “Well, Jeo, you’ve risen through the Court rather quickly.”
“What the hell’s going on?” both the Lyai and the merchant chorused.
The Imperial agent laughed, “Apparently Amberlet’s decided to upset the entire Court ––And foul the Demonlord’s remaining agents but good. Oh, and Lee, let me introduce our friends here more properly. Jeo d’Aere’s full name and title are: Je’orj du Bradlei, Cathartan Lord by Bond; and this is his lovel
y lady, Se’and, daughter of Sire Ryff of the Cathartan House of Ryff. This lad with the fine bandage on his head is the Lady Fri’il, formerly of… please correct me if I misremember, the House of Vyss Secondson, son of Sire Ryff.”
Esperanza shook her head, feeling her chainmail garment flow fluidly. She suddenly “saw” the youngest servant lad frown.
“And this seemingly so innocent youngster, is Lord Je’orj’s fosterling, Raven. She’s likely the most effective bodyguard you’re ever to meet.”
Gasping, Esperanza muttered, “She’s a were.”
The Lyai frowned, “But without magery our enemies will seek to enchant him at their first opportunity!”
George coughed into his hand, then replied, “Your Grace, they can try, but what Terhun’s left out is that, well, although, I don’t do magery, you might think of me as a human mage.”
“What? There’s no such thing. Humans can’t do magery.”
“So it’s been explained to me, something about us not having souls, I understand.” George shook his head, “Such interesting elvin prejudices. Staff, level two rapport.”
The Lyai and Esperanza gaped as his staff glowed. No one seemed to notice the sheathed black sword vibrating.
“Now,” the new Lord Chancellor said, “understand I’m just passing
through, but I do have an interest in wreaking havoc for the Demonlord.
However, I need to keep a low profile, which being Chancellor won’t help me do one bit.”
Terhun shook his head, “Not if we go about this the right way, Je’orj.”
The Lyai raised his hand, “Wait, I’ve so many questions.”
Esperanza reached out to him, and rasped, “He… He’s come far. Trust him –– Highmage Alrex summons him, but needs him to aid
you here and now.”
“Alrex?” the young elf lord muttered.
George frowned. “You might say he brought me to your world; and he and I are going to have a chat soon about how he can send me back through the Gate.”
Se’and put out a restraining hand, “But, let’s put that matter aside for now. Lord Lyai, your Court’s in disarray and you cannot just sit here and let matters spin out of control. You and Je’orj must work together.”
