by D. H. Aire
“And do what?” the young elf lord asked.
“Take the Mage Guild in hand for one,” she suggested.
“And clear Talik’s good name,” Terhun added.
Esperanza took a deep breath, “And, you’re going to need me by your side, Lee.”
“You nearly died!”
“Well, that wondrous healer saved my life using that sword.”
Se’and and Fri’il glanced at the sheathed sword, then their eyes widened. They stared at the unmistakable Cathartan sigil on its hilt. Esperanza glanced at it, “The healer’s companion asked for it as a boon gift for saving my life.”
“That’s Lord Kyrr’s sword!” Se’and said.
“May I?” George asked, reaching for it.
The Lyai said, “Don’t! That bane sword is too dangerous to draw.”
“Let me guess, magery and that sword don’t mix?”
“How did you know?”
He glanced at Se’and and Fri’il even as Raven grinned and said, “Their ancestor –– Lord Kyrr –– busy boy was.”
“I’ve a suggestion,” George said, grinning. “I recommend giving that healer a different sword. You see, I think the Faeryn have a much better use for it.”
Offering a Challenge
Chapter 56
Constandine hurried to the Court when the Heralds shouted the announcement that it was being called into session. Signaling to his fellow Guild mages to join him, he saw Master Galt and his journeyman, Dustin, enter. That was an ill sight. No Faeryn had attended Court since the accusations of Talik’s treason.
No sooner had they sat than the Herald announced, “His Grace, the Lyai of Lyai.”
The elflord entered the hall and everyone in the chamber leaned forward as he escorted the haggard looking young elvin lady in chainmail. He seated her beside him in the seat normally reserved for the Chancellor.
“Lords and Ladies, members of the Court, it is my honor to present, Lady Esperanza, formerly of the Consecrated’s Tower, who I hereby appoint High Scryer of the Provincial Capital.”
That statement was greeted with consternation. “You may not have heard that our former High Scryer was recently found dead. He was also found to, in actuality, have been a goblin mage. How long ago our good scryer was replaced with one of the Demonlord’s minions is unknown. But I need someone I can trust for the post, and the Lady Esperanza brought us the warning that the Lady Mother of the Consecrated’s Tower was an agent of the Demonlord as well. That warning nearly cost her her life. The Lady Mother cast a wraith at her.” There was a collective gasp. “Yes, the foulest of mageries. I stand witness as does Lord Amberlet. Through the lady here, the Scryer’s Network is now clear of taint.
“So to the next order of business, in light of recent events, Lord Amberlet has decided to step down… and he has appointed a temporary successor. Someone without taint in Imperial politics, someone Master Terhun has investigated and found to be beyond reproach. So I am pleased to introduce you to Lord Jeo d’Aere, merchant of the Crescent Lands trade.”
Constandine grimaced.
The Herald opened the arched doorway and man in an elegant flowing cape marched into the chamber, his walking staff tapping the floor, echoing his pace. He took the seat opposite the Lady Esperanza, on the Lyai’s left.
The whispers and voices of outrage filled the Court. “Silence!” the Lyai ordered. “Ask yourself this: Why must I turn to foreigners? Who among you is in league with the Demonlord and his agents?”
Constandine had no choice but to rise, “How about your cousin, Talik?! He fled the city rather than answer to the charge of treason!”
The Lyai nodded solemnly. “True, he left the city. And it is also true that he defends the Empire at this very moment, holding back invaders threatening the keep of Niota, set to attack this city and the whole of the Empire! Who has gone to aid in the defense of the Empire? Guild mages? No, Faeryn mages, Archmage Constandine… and in light of the suborning of the Scryer’s Network, I tell you all the baseless charges against my cousin, and heir, are herewith set aside!”
“You cannot do that!” Constandine shouted.
The Chancellor rose, “Your Grace, is this Court to be shown no respect?”
Constandine swallowed, took a step back and said, “Pardon, Your Highness, I intended no offense.”
George sat back down.
“Archmage, the Imperial Charter is clear, my Chancellor and I are in agreement, not in discord. The charges against my heir have been dropped.”
Taking a deep breath, he replied, “I challenge your verdict… Your Grace.”
The Lyai nodded and stated, “We thought you might.”
George rose once more. “I’m a businessman, Milord, Lords and Ladies. I understand that the Lyai has sought to purchase a bane sword. He wishes a bane sword of distinction that will help him ward his life against the assassins who killed his mother and father when he was but a boy and who have apparently been hiding in this city –– perhaps the palace itself.
“I am also aware that Faeryn enchanted work has become prized to the complaint of your Mage Guild, Archmage Constandine. Have your chosen bane sword brought forth and we will test it against one the Faeryn offer. Should an independent panel deem the winner to be that of Mage Guild work, the charges will be left to stand and Archmage Talik brought to challenge them. Should the Faeryn bane sword be deemed the superior, your challenge will be struck down. Is this acceptable, Milord?”
Glaring at the upstart human, Constandine shouted with a smile, “Of course!” He already knew how to turn this to his advantage.
“Noon tomorrow!” the Lyai announced. “Court is adjourned.”
The politicking and worse began immediately. “Lord Jeo, honored to make your acquaintance!”
“Congratulations, Milord Jeo,” the older elf lord said, muttering something under his breath as he shook George’s hand. “Ow,” the fellow muttered as George smiled.
“Ow,” another elfblood rasped as he failed to enchant him.
“He’s warded,” Se’and heard whispered through the crowd as the Lyai took Esperanza by the arm and accompanied her from
Court.
An old elf lord watched the scryer in her exquisitely crafted elvin chainmail and frowned, not happy with this turn of events in the least. “What? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Lord Winterlorne.”
Raven saw the elf lord turn to a frail elderly elvin lady.
“Grandis, how unpleasant to see you again.”
“Hmm, Lady Esperanza reminds me of someone, but I can’t think whom. My memory isn’t what it once was, but don’t fret, old friend. It will come to me… and I’ll be the first to congratulate her kin on taking such a prize.”
The old elf turned and walked away.
The elvin lady laughed and glanced at Raven in her servant’s livery, then paid her no further mind. She was only human, after all.
‘Staff,’ Raven mentally relayed what she had overheard with her all too keen hearing.
That was when an elflord shook George’s hand and leaned forward to whisper, “You’re in grave danger, Milord… But I can protect you.”
“Excuse us,” Se’and said, steering George away from the fellow as Galt
elbowed his way to their side. “Amazing, you’re still alive.”
“Hah hah,” George muttered.
“Oh, just wait for the reception at dinner.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Lady Esperanza,” the scryer said, rising from the table as the waters of his bowl stilled.
Master Galt accompanied her while the Lyai met briefly with his new Chancellor and Terhun for a private chat before “retiring” from public view for the afternoon. “Has the Consecrated’s Tower rejoined the network?”
“No, Milady, they are working through bowls and flame, but apparently do not have the requisite skills to repair the damage to the
talisman pool.”
“That’s what I’ve been afraid
of. It’s not like the Consecrated are known for our mage gifts. Our expertise is our talent for scrying,” she replied.
“It sounds like you need a mage.”
“Well, no male can pass within the Tower’s wards. Only one who is Consecrated may enter and the Lady Mage, doubtless, will not
appreciate becoming Consecrated.”
‘No males can be Consecrated?’ that ghostly voice abruptly asked, startling Esperanza and Galt both.
“Would you like me to pass on the word to neighboring provinces that we need a mageling scryer?” the elfblood asked.
“The Tower boasts the only Consecrated virgins –– those who left for other Towers are, uh, no longer suitable.”
“They’ve married, you mean,” Galt said.
Esperanza nodded, “The Tower requires young servants and the Lady Mother trained us in the arts. I’m the eldest and haven’t the skills or the knowledge to work the repair. I was hoping they would have found something in the Tower library by now, an enchanted substance, something.”
‘The talisman requires magery,’ the ghostly voice whispered.
“And mages aren’t generally well–known as virgins,” the scryer muttered with a sheepish glance at Master Galt.
The Faeryn mage laughed, “Now that’s an understatement if there ever
was one.”
“Milady?” the scryer asked.
“Let me think on it,” Esperanza replied. “Because even repaired, the Tower requires thirteen Consecrated, and they are now but eleven strong.”
Galt walked out of the room with her, then paused in the hall. “Esperanza, what you need is someone like Dustin. He can repair anything –– and that lad is most definitely a virgin. He’s teased terribly all the time for it, in fact.”
“The journeyman? But we need a female!” Esperanza said.
‘Galt is quite correct, being male is not the true impediment. However, I doubt those that guard the Tower would understand that.’
Esperanza looked at Galt thoughtfully. “You aren’t suggesting…”
“I think that lad would make an excellent Lady Mother,” Galt replied with a clever smile, “with a little tutelage, of course, from you, Milady. After all, I’ve long despaired at getting him to cut his
hair and now its length will come in so handy.”
Dining with the Lyai was an unusual affair. Balfour was being feted for having saved the Lady Esperanza’s life. Interim Chancellor Jeo d’Aere was being introduced to key members of the Court.
“Pleased to meet you, Milord Chancellor,” Balfour said.
“And I you, Lord Healer,” George replied with a wry smile.
They were seated on either side of the Lyai, who sat beside the Lady Esperanza, seated next to Balfour. The Lyai whispered in George’s ear, “I’m sorry for all the politicking you are having to suffer through.”
“It seems each wants me to consider recommending them for Chancellor.”
“And not a single one here do I trust that far,” the young elf lord replied.
George frowned, “Then think about who is not here. Perhaps it is those who shy away from the rivalries at Court that deserve such trusted roles.”
The Lyai looked at him, “That is something I will give thought.”
Se’and glanced across at Cle’or, who briefly met her gaze, then looked away. Raven brought her meal and whispered, “Smell good.”
“And Lord Jeo’s?”
“His, too,” she answered with a smile.
Sometimes it paid to have a friend with the senses of an animal. Raven
intercepted the servant bringing the Lyai and Esperanza their dinners. The scryer wore a lovely robe over her chainmail, which suddenly felt damp. Her eyes dilated as the Lyai clasped her hands in sudden worry.
There was a crash. “Sorry!” Raven shouted as she brought the Lyai his dinner, but not the scryer’s.
Esperanza abruptly relaxed and said with a glance at Raven, “Think nothing of it, my dear. I can wait.”
The Lyai said, “You can share my plate, Milady.”
She met his gaze and nodded. “Why, thank you, Your Grace.”
The assistant cook could not be found when the Lyai’s Guardsmen asked who had prepared Lady Esperanza’s dish. A servant frowned, knowing his Master would not be pleased by this latest failure. But at least the assistant cook’s body would likely not be found until morning.
Lord Winterlorn arrived to the Lyai’s dinner quite late. He had locked himself in his study for hours. A Herald announced him and all eyes looked at him. But he only returned the gaze of one.
Esperanza frowned, then felt… damp all over. She gasped and rose from her chair, “Grandfather.”
That announcement created a resounding silence.
Constandine grimaced, watching plans within plans collapse like a house of tarot cards.
Lord Winterlorn stiffly marched forward, “Esperanza, you remind me of your grandmother at that age. Now, you lot hear me, I recant my folly and claim my late son’s half human daughter as House Winterlorn’s heir. ”
With that announcement the Mage Guild lost its greatest champion at Court to the young elflord who had risen to the young lady’s support, unbidden. The Lyai never let loose her hand.
‘Excellent.’ Esperanza heard in her mind.
George frowned and glanced around the chamber, seeking the
source of that telepathic announcement as did Raven. Balfour schooled his features and tried not to react at all.
‘Don’t worry, human. I mean those two no harm. In fact, I think I’m going to like it here.’
Contest of Swords
Chapter 57
“The Provincial Court of Lyai is now called into Special Session!” the Herald intoned.
Thump, thump. The Lyai rapped his scepter upon the dais floor. “Challenge has been called by Archmage Constandine of the Mage Guild. I hereby present our panel of judges,” judges who had been stared at since the moment they entered the chamber because everyone at Court was so astonished to see his choice. “Master Hanrihan, Debtor’s Man, lord of the third cadet branch of House Autumnhaven; Lady Presilla Smythsdotter of the Cleaner’s Guild, representing House Springhallow; And Ebrim Winterhil, renowned dealer of weaponry, formerly General of the Lyai’s Legion.”
Each rose as announced, then sat flanked by Imperial legionnaires –– old legionnaires who had trailed their honored general’s steps for more than four decades. That these three were never seen in Court was an understatement. That any desired to see them had always been in doubt.
The Debtor’s Man was someone both loathed and feared –– and normally impossible to threaten. It had been tried. The fellow hated his family with a passion… he had sent his own son to prison for stealing to pay debts incurred in gaming, a gambit likely intended to entrap his father. However, not only was the son working at hard labor, but so were those who had run the establishment and those who had taken the fool for every copper he owned. The winners had neglected to pay their taxes on the winnings and had spent the spoils of the game. The establishment had found itself under Imperial review. It had used talismans that made dice roll as they pleased, rather than proper enchantments should have forestalled.
Lady Presilla was another matter. Spells could clean clothing, but the
lady’s talented workers made clothes look better once cleaned than they
had looked before. The joke was that you could take clothes that were rags to her shop and you’d receive them back so beautiful you were almost afraid to wear them. They were practically works of art.
Cross Lady Presilla at your peril or the day you wished to wear your finest clothes to a wedding, you would find them turned to dust. It had happened. And her friends were tailors and seamstresses who would suddenly be nowhere to be found.
She actually smiled at the assemblage ever so pleasantly. The Lyai covered his mouth and coughed, stiffing the impulse to laugh. Terhun had found it impossible to enter the chamber sin
ce he still was laughing.
“Present to me the bane sword for our panel of judges to consider, Archmage,” the Lyai commanded.
Constandine rose, carrying the sheathed silver sword across the chamber. He paused before the Lyai, the scryer and Chancellor, turning to the Court and faced the panel of judges. To say he was less than pleased was an understatement, yet he couldn’t call them impartial, because they weren’t partial to anyone. They loathed the Great Game and did their best to keep free of anything smacking of it.
“This sword was forged by the Dwarves of Tane. My Guildmaster’s imbued it with banes that will make it never break –– be it to thwart goblins or Demonfriends, nor shall it ever rust and its edge shall be forever keen! I present you a sword fit for the Empress herself!”
Master Galt strode forth with a sheathed sword. He presented it to the Lyai, Court and the panel. He only partially drew it. There was a gasp. The metal was black. “Your Grace, I present you a sword crafted by man. It was forged outside the Empire. It is rare and the bane will foil all enchantments intended to harass you. This is what the Faeryn offer and our most skilled craftsmasters have set the enchantment. You will find its like or match nowhere else.”
The Lyai said, “You both honor me. Now, to the testing.”
Archmage Constandine held his bane sword before him. Two sets of various metal bars were laid out before him. He randomly chose, practically dancing as he swung the sword and chopped elvin silver, high gold, great bronze –– the elvin-wrought metals reinforced to be nearly indestructible.
Each was cut cleanly with but a single stroke.
He left the judges to inspect the sword.
“Keen and without nick,” the former general announced, as his companions nodded.
Constandine retrieved the sword and returned to his seat.
Galt rose and approached the panel. He bowed, presenting the sword which he unsheathed. He did not swing the blade; he merely touched the remaining bar of elvin silver. There was an explosion. The Court left our gasps and several raised defensive wardings. When the smoke cleared, the remains could be seen melting and dripping on the floor. Galt touched the sword to the great bronze and again, there was an explosion.
