Vorick looked around the room at the faces before him, then chuckled.
"That won't be a problem."
A few hours later Vorick left the emasculated council carrying documents that bore the signatures of every member, including his own. His destination was the inner rooms of the castle residence.
Queen Mellice was doing what she often enjoyed at this hour: drinking tea and eating sweets in one of the many dining rooms. Her girth had grown unwieldy over the years as she found little occasion to leave the castle. Royalty had little need to venture about nowadays, for there had been ministers that attended to matters of state. A cadre of ladies dined with her, Kayna among them. Seated near the queen were two young men as well. Vorick was pleased to find that one of them was Prince Bertrand, sitting at Mellice's right. The other was a friend of the prince, the young and newly recognized Earl of Katch, who had taken the mantle of authority when his father passed away.
"Darin, is it?" Vorick intruded upon the gathering, carrying the resplendent helm under the crook of his left arm. "Sorry to hear about your daddy." His voice carried no sincerity. Darin fidgeted nervously with a piece of cutlery in response to the comment.
Kayna eyes grew wide with surprise. She had clearly seen the power in the armor.
The sitting room was modestly decorated compared to other royal dining areas. Several vents admitted cool air from the gardens below and the windows provided a beautiful view of the Twins. Vorick found the breeze refreshing. As comfortable as his armor was, it was quite warm.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion, Minister Vorick?" the queen stated indignantly. She struggled to rise to her feet, her ample girth spilling about her.
"I require an audience with you, Mellice."
His use of her first name, absent her title, was an obvious affront. She glared back angrily, clearly vexed at the insult offered in front of her guests.
"I summon you, Nikolas, not the other way around," she said.
Vorick drew Flay from her scabbard, holding the blade casually and flitting it about. He circled the table slowly. Bertrand stood and reached for the saber at his side, but it was ornamental, not meant for combat. Vorick thought back to the rapier he once bore for the same purpose and marveled for a moment at the scope of his own transformation.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Bertie," he said.
Bertrand hesitated. With no magic of his own, he had little ability to stand against the blessed lord. He sat back down.
Vorick moved between two of the queen's ladies, who were frozen to their chairs.
“The rest of you can go. Kayna, Bertrand, please remain.”
He set the helm and scroll case on the table in front of the queen. The show had worked for the council; perhaps it would also work for her. He needed her obedience if his plans were to work.
The guests left without delay but muttered under their breath about rudeness and unfinished snacks.
"Marry me, Mellice," Vorick said. "Tonight."
Her head bobbed back as if she had been struck by a blow, her eyes widening in surprise. “How dare you? I’ll... Well, I'll do no such thing."
The blade in Vorick's hand came down toward the prince, stopping inches above his head. It had moved with lightning speed, and the queen screeched.
"This bag of pomp you call your son holds no value to me," Vorick said, the blade now hovering menacingly near the prince's face. "You, on the other hand, hold some value. A marriage will provide a semblance of legitimacy, but I don't require it. If you refuse, I'll simply kill you both and take the throne by force."
"No, please," she said, her protests vanishing. "I'll do whatever you say."
"Of course you will."
A short time later, Archbishop Chayfus arrived at the castle and presided over a brief ceremony in the royal chapel. It was witnessed by Prince Bertrand, Kayna, and Chancellor Holland. The next day, a coronation was held in the Great Hall with a much larger audience. Spouses of royalty rarely received a coronation, but Vorick had insisted. At the beginning of the coronation, Mellice made an insincere statement to the assembled nobles and politicians about her devotion to Vorick and her faith in his leadership, then spent the rest of the rite standing beside her son.
Vorick was king.
28
Protection
The Cavern
Gwyn stood watching as Bylo poured water from a canteen upon his stone table to clean the surface. He then set out several needles and a pot of ink. "Interested?" he asked.
"Fascinated, more like," she said. "Your magic is different from any I've ever heard of."
Bylo smiled, then called in the direction of the pool. "Mykel! I'm ready for you."
Mykel walked up, still dripping wet. "Where will you put it?"
"On your chest. Big. This will hurt."
"I can take it."
Gwyn chuckled at the interaction between the two, especially at Mykel's bravado.
Anne's approach interrupted her quiet admiration.
"He's near," Anne said quietly, more casually than the news warranted.
"Who is?" Gwyn asked, moving back from the table so the others wouldn't hear.
"Your general. At the Abbey in Eastway. Looking for you."
A coldness swept across Gwyn. Vorick sent Cross?
"What are you going to do?" Anne asked.
"What choice do I have?"
"You always have choices. And they define you."
Or get you killed, Gwyn thought.
"You know things, Anne. What happens next? Will Cross kill Mykel?"
"Would it change your mind if he did?"
"It might."
Anne remained silent.
"Will I see you again?" Gwyn asked.
Anne reached for Gwyn's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Take care of yourself."
The intimacy shocked Gwyn, Anne's kindness standing in stark contrast to the treachery Gwyn intended. Confusion and anxiety swirled messily in Gwyn's mind, and she fought a desire to remain in the cavern. Awash in self-loathing, she stepped toward the tunnel, smothering her feelings with an iron resolve to fulfill her mission. This was by far the darkest task she had undertaken, and the consequences would be grave.
Nara sat in the dark cave, a dozen feet under the surface of the plateau, resting her head on a mound of soft dirt. Since finding the rune in Bylo's book, she could see the earth and feel its energy. Shaping now came with surprisingly little effort as she carved rock and dirt with her thoughts. Oh, if Bylo hadn't held her back, she would have learned this years ago! The symbols weren't power in themselves but they unlocked power—something she was just beginning to understand.
She thought of how the wind had moved the trees by the creek, and how the sunlight had warmed her face. She thought of the fire weeds, and of people. Dei's creations were beautiful, but so fragile. Sunlight waned, wind faded, weeds perished, and sometimes, people died.
She could hide from Him, and from everything else if she wished. She could close the large cavern door and lock herself inside for a long time. Away from people, and away from trouble. But she didn't want to hide. Not anymore. If she could learn to use her magic, perhaps she wouldn't have to.
Anne said Nara could become whatever she wished. Was that true? Earth was one of several elements, according to her schooling. Others were air, fire, and water. She thought of the ways her own talents had revealed themselves. Magic was primarily associated with livings things. She sensed the emotions of people and animals and how they might act. She could even influence those feelings. She had healed herself during the ambush by those terrible men and moved magic like a harvester. But until recently she had never commanded a prime element. Commanded. It wasn't the right word. Coaxed made more sense, as if it were a partnership and the earth needed convincing, not harsh orders.
Then there was the protection rune that Bylo practiced for Mykel. Could she summon that symbol as well? She pictured the design in her mind, remembering its complexity fro
m the wall in the cavern. Despite several attempts, she manifested nothing, its shape eluding her. Although she wanted to try something else, she failed to remember what other runes Bylo had practiced over the years. Perhaps she would have to borrow his book again.
The sound of sniffing and a patter of little feet alerted her, and she looked up. Through the darkness, a small pair of glowing eyes stared back at her. A raccoon? Fox? Although too dark for normal sight, when she closed her eyes and engaged her vision, she found that a wolf pup had wandered into her cave.
"Come here, my friend," she said, holding her fingers out. The pup stepped back a few paces in surprise at her movement, then approached, sniffing. It barked. Such a tiny pup, its bark sounded more like a chirp or squeak. Then the animal charged her, leaping onto her lap with its soft paws, tongue licking wildly at her face. A few moments later, two more pups came down the sloped entry, followed by an adult female. The little ones joined in the play, but their mother approached apprehensively, growling.
Nara closed her eyes, reaching her thoughts toward the animal, sending peace and comfort to ease the fears. The wolf responded well, approaching Nara to lick her cheek, then sat on her haunches. Nara played with them for several minutes before a sound from above interrupted the fun. Was someone calling her? The animals bolted away, the little ones exiting at clumsy puppy speeds after their mother, leaving Nara alone again in the dark.
"Nara?” A worried voice called down the ramp. It was Gwyn. "Are you down there?"
"I'm here."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Come down and take a look."
"I saw wolves." Gwyn moved cautiously into the dark cave as she examined Nara's new creation.
"It was just a mother and her pups."
"What did you make?" Gwyn asked, her voice betraying amazement.
"A little hiding place," Nara said. "What do you think?"
"I think you could use a lamp," Gwyn said, running her fingers around the side of the smooth stone wall.
"It is dark, but if I plant fire weeds and carve light runes…”
"I am heading to the village outside the abbey," Gwyn said, still looking about. "For supplies. Just wanted to let you know."
"Thank you."
"And Bylo's doing the tattoo," Gwyn said. "Might take a while."
"I'm going to check on him," Nara said, and moved toward the exit. This tattoo was important, a big event for Mykel, and she didn't want to miss it.
"I'll be back before dark," Gwyn called after her as she ran up the ramp.
Nara returned to the large cavern, intending to check on Mykel's status, but when she saw him on the rock table under Bylo's needle, she stopped herself. Interrupting them would only invite errors, and Mykel might need the protection the rune would bring.
She returned to the bed of weeds where she had spoken with Anne earlier. Although most of the blossoms had returned to their normal state, the one pained blossom remained in place, petals tight and unyielding. She sat carefully to avoid disturbing it again, then hummed a happy tune she had heard at last summer's solstice party in Dimmitt. She recalled Amos Dak singing the song, half drunk, belly bouncing out of his shirt as he danced. She laughed at the memory, then smiled sadly at the loss of him, and for her part in it. Remembering Amos' lyrics, she sang the words to try to cheer up the flower, hoping the plant would recover from the earlier trauma. It remained unresponsive.
She stopped singing and blew gently upon the blossom, giving encouraging words, as if helping a fearful child to take her first steps. "Open up, dear thing. It's safe now." Her tender words and easy breath had an effect, the petals opening slightly to reveal the white seeds inside. "I'm sorry, little flower," she said. "Forgive me."
She blew again and whispered more encouragement. The petals unfurled slowly, and the seeds began to release—one, two, then five, and ten. Once they were airborne, she blew on them, encouraging them upward, then fought an urge to chase after and catch them again. She smiled at the childish impulse and turned back to the blossom. Although releasing fewer seeds than the other flowers, it had made progress, and she smiled.
It was odd to feel such encouragement at the flower's recovery. After all, it was just a flower. But its victory spoke to something deeper. Pain had a way of healing, over time. Fearful things might not stay that way if someone took the time to show them love and patience.
Despite her victory with the fire weed, a faint headache threatened her, and she dreaded allowing the pain to take deeper root. She lay down among the weeds to rest.
Several hours of careful work later, Bylo finished the inscription. It might be the only way he could contribute to Nara's safety, and he was pleased with the effort.
When Mykel returned from the pool, healed and clean, Anne invited him to sit next to her and Bylo at the rock table, the new tattoo vibrant on his muscled chest.
"I think I got it right," Bylo offered, looking back and forth between Mykel and the stone wall that bore the same image.
"You did well. Thank you," Anne said.
"Tell me what it does," Mykel said.
"Some people would use weapons against you, but there are others who have the power to tear your body apart," she said. "Like swords, magic can be used in destructive ways. This helps. Not foolproof, but if you can flare protection, it will give you some resistance to both."
"To swords? Like a steel skin?" Bylo asked.
"Yes, like that. And to magical attacks, which carry a greater threat. The protection rune essentially protects the integrity of both your body and spirit, resisting malformation by magic, blade, or bludgeon. Much better than a steel skin."
Mykel beamed. "Wait till Sammy hears about this!"
"The problem is, the more symbols you have dancing about in your head, the harder it will be to find them."
Mykel grimaced. "Like the confusion when I first held the staff. The runes were blurry, not sharp and clear like the health tattoo."
"Not only do you have two runes on your body now," Anne said, "but when you hold the staff, you can be confused by even more."
Mykel retrieved his weapon from where he left it earlier—leaning against the large pillar. "I wanted to ask you about these," he said, pointing to one of the designs. "This one looks like the protection rune."
"Yes. Though it's slightly different, it protects the staff—not you."
"How do you mean?" Bylo asked.
"This staff is made of ivory, which is strong but much weaker than the steel used in other weapons. When the ivory is charged with energy, it becomes stronger, but like all cepps, the energy bleeds out. This variation of the protection rune helps keep it both resistant to impact and prevents the energy from bleeding out."
Mykel nodded. "When it gets low, do I put it back in the ink pool?"
"Yes. Or you could just fill the staff yourself. You have a storehouse of energy in you, boy. Runes inscribed upon you give a conduit to channel your magic, but you can also fill cepps or runes inscribed on objects. That's how you opened that stone door."
"What about the other rune, the one that helped me fight when I was blinded?" Mykel asked.
"You speak of the staff's sight rune. Sight not only helps you know what is, but also what might be, at least in the next moment. Useful, but it only applies to combat. The sight is from the staff's perspective," she tapped the staff, "not your own. It sees what matters to it. You will not be able to use it to win at cards or dice."
"Is the staff alive?" Bylo asked.
"In a manner of speaking," she said. "The weapon doesn't have a mind if that's what you're after, but it is filled with life, wouldn't you say?"
Of course, Bylo thought. Magic is life, and life is magic.
"How many tattoos can I have?" Mykel asked.
Bylo smiled at Mykel's ambition.
"Oh, look at Mister High and Mighty," Anne teased with her deep, hearty chuckle. "Why don't you hold the staff and try to find the protection rune Bylo just gave you, then we'll
talk about all the many powers you want."
Mykel stood, gripping the gleaming white staff with both hands, and closed his eyes.
"Keep them open. Good practice for you."
As Bylo watched him grip the staff, eyes open, the boy seemed to look out across the cavern, focusing on something that wasn't there. "I can seize the health rune right away, but I've practiced that."
"Look for the others," Bylo said, joining in the magic of the moment. "Can you seize the new one?"
"No," he said. "But there are several, very blurry. Maybe if I just pick one…"
Bylo looked at Mykel closely and saw his eyes glow for a moment, just as Nara's had when she first began to use her gifts, years ago.
"That's the staff's protection rune, Mykel," Anne said. "You can see it, but it belongs to the staff, not to you. Try again."
Mykel's eyes flashed again.
"That's the right one, but it will take time to get control of it. Keep practicing."
His eyes flashed again, but then Mykel frowned. "I can't grab the thing. It's blurry, and every time I try to feed it, the design dances out of view again."
"Now you understand what I am telling you. More tattoos mean more mental discipline, more practice, or you'll just confuse yourself and find none of them."
Bylo shared Mykel's frustration. So much for decorating the boy with gifts. Hopefully, practice would help him grab hold of the powers, and the addition of the latest tattoo wouldn't end up setting Mykel back.
Anne sighed, but Bylo couldn't tell if her frustration was from Mykel's failure, or because of some concern she had not yet communicated. "Let's grab a bite, then Nara has something to show you." Anne nodded toward the fire weeds. "Mykel, could you please wake her for dinner?"
After Mykel left, Bylo put away his needles and ink.
"Wait," Anne said. "Do you have a small vial?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess," he said. "Why?"
"Grab the vial and put some of the good stuff in there."
The Godseeker Duet Page 24
