While Nemara did not appear happy at the news it would be so soon, for the first time she had not become volatile. Their discussions previously had ended with them both angry, and with no resolution. They both fell silent, each lost in their thoughts as they continued their breakfast. The only sound was the cry of the gulls overhead, riding the breeze that had come up.
Alador eyes drifted out to the harbor. The tall masts were rocking in the bay as if they were sailing on a full sea. The bare masts and docks swayed with swells that had made their way into the harbor. He would have thought a massive storm had hit the port, but the air was still pleasant. White clouds dotted the blue skies here and there. It had been this way for a couple days, but today the ships danced. He noted the docks were much emptier than he had ever seen them.
“Nemara, I have to work on the council tier. Something doesn’t feel right about today; promise me you will stay at the manor.” He rose and stared out at the sea, focusing in with the dragon’s gift of far-sight. Off in the distance he was sure he saw a band of gray clouds; perhaps a storm was coming in. He had been here for large storms in the past, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that today felt different somehow.
“Of course. I really haven’t taken much pleasure beyond these walls,” she answered with a nod, following his line of vision. She rose and moved to his side. “What is it?” She followed his gaze to the ships in the harbor as they rocked back and forth like apples in a water barrel game.
“I am not sure. Look at the ships in the harbor.” He pointed to where the differing size ships rose and fell as they bobbed left then right. “I have never seen so much movement of the water in the actual harbor. I think a storm is coming.”
Nemara patted his arm with reassurance. “Silverport has weathered many a storm. Do not fret.” She grinned at his concern and reached up to smooth his brow with her fingertips. “You worry too much.”
“But… something today feels different.” He ran a hand over his face. “Maybe I am just dreading having to spend yet another day with my uncle,” he admitted.
The young woman nodded her head in agreement. “I would dread that every time I had to do so. Why you don’t just tell him you don’t want to be involved in the city’s politics?” She blew out a sigh of frustration.
“If I mean to see him removed from power, I will need to remain close to him. I haven’t figured out a way to do this without a direct challenge,” Alador huffed. “I have practiced with him enough to know that I won’t win that way,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Can’t you just have Sordith kill him?” she suggested.
“Yes. Sordith and I have even talked about this,” he admitted. “There is no guarantee that someone worse won’t take his place, however. Most of the council are self-serving egotists.” Alador watched the skyline as he spoke. He noted the flags on the spires as they began to rise and fall in the growing sea breeze. “It is why I am working to gain access to the actual council. Then I can help someone with true care and concern assume the mantle of High Minister.”
“You could be High Minster,” she replied, eyeing him seriously.
Alador let out a long sigh and shook his head. “I have no desire to lead. I know it is what Henrick is working toward, but I just want this geas done and to move on with my life.”
“Will removing Luthian end the geas?” Nemara asked curiously.
“Gods, I hope so.” Alador truly did not know when it would end. He knew that a leader that cared about dragons needed to be in place. Surely there was someone who regretted the division between dragons and Lerdenia! Someone who would not advocate to reopen the bloodmine. The problem was, he just hadn’t found anyone in the city that wanted to end the practice except Lady Aldemar. It was a dilemma he had not been able to solve and would not today. He pulled his thoughts back to the present.
“I had best go, Luthian hardly likes to be kept waiting.” Alador sighed and pulled her over to him. When she did not resist, he laid a gentle kiss on her brow. “Promise me you will stay in today,” he whispered.
“I promise.” Nemara’s answer was soft and barely audible.
“Good. I will see you tonight then.” He cast one more glance at the skyline and then turned and strode away. He still felt an ominous pressure; whether it was having to go to Luthian or the strange feeling in the air, he could not determine.
.
Chapter Two
Sordith stood on the docks outside the trench, suffering in the warm, overly humid day. The sun refracting off the water nearly doubled the heat, creating rivulets of sweat within his leather armor. The docks were unsteady under his feet, rocking with the swells in the bay as he waited for the harbor master to join him.
The tide was predicted to be high, and Sordith had been warned that a summer storm was coming in. He had ordered the boats out of the harbor, but there had not been enough sober crewman to get the remaining six out. He knew the time needed for the boats to make it to the storm hole was swiftly closing.
The storm hole was a deep, narrow inlet. It had good anchor and mooring positions in a small bay surrounded by rock cliffs and trees. The harbor master, Ferand Wischard, assured him that the trading fleet would be secure in this location.
The two old sea hands the harbor master employed to warn of severe weather events were calling for a storm of higher magnitude than the port city usually weathered. However, it hadn’t taken an expert to know something large was headed their way. By mid-day there was not a single sea bird flitting about the harbor and the wind was gusting stronger with each passing hour.
Ferand approached from the far end of the dock as Sordith was looking over an older boat to his left. His tall boots struck the wooden dock like hammers on an anvil. “Lord Sordith, I hope you are not disappointed. I think we’ve got the best of them out to sea.” The harbor master stuck his thumbs in the wide belt that encircled his sizable girth. He was pleased he had done as well as he did getting the ships he could to a safe harbor.
Sordith’s eyes roved over the six remaining ships. Ships were costly and time consuming to build, especially the mammoths that High Minister Luthian ordered. “What of these that are left?” He pointed at the boats at his side.
“Gotta crew workin’ on additional tie lines and wrapping the ropes where they rub boat and dock to try to keep them from breaking. Plus, dropping down some spacers to keep the two from bumpin’.” Ferand shrugged. “Best we can do at the moment, ‘m ‘fraid.”
“Well, let us hope that we are overly prepared.” Sordith gave a nod of approval as he spoke. “Anything else I can do to help?”
“No milord. I believe I have it handled,” Ferand said with a grim look. “As much as one can take on the weather.” He stood looking out to sea, the shirttail of his tunic flattened against his rotund belly by the wind as it picked up speed. “What about that storm mage everyone talks about? Can ya get him to chip in?”
Sordith stood for a couple seconds staring at the man. He had not even considered seeking out his half-brother, Alador, to see if there was something the man could do to lessen the impact of the storm. “It can’t hurt to ask him. I will look into that immediately.”
The two men nodded their farewells. Ferand went back to checking on his crew and the remaining boats.
Sordith started up the stairs to the trench. Fortunately, it was a good ten feet above the dock line, so even with the tide as high as it was thought to become, his people would be safe. The only time he had known it to get high enough to impact the trench was a storm that created a backflow of the sewage for a few hours when he was a youngster. He remembered sitting on the steps to the first tier to stay above the filth.
Owen was waiting for him at the top of the stairs. “Got that old mine opened up for those that wanna get out of the rain just like you asked,” he said as Sordith took the last couple of steps up to the trench.
“Good, get a couple of men to spread the word and then meet me at the stairs. We are going to the c
ouncil tier.” Sordith didn’t even pause, expecting Owen to turn and keep up with him.
Owen grumbled. “I hate them upstart mages in all their fancy dresses.”
“They are robes, Owen, not dresses.” Sordith pointed out with a wry grin as he sidestepped a woman and her child hurrying down the stairs.
“It looks like a dress, it be a dress as I figure it.” The big man backed up against the wall of a building avoiding the woman and her snotty nosed child. He hurried to come up alongside Sordith.
“Yes, well looks can be deceiving. A few of those mages in their fancy dresses could kick your ass without a sweat.” Sordith made his way to the steps to the trench hall then turned to look at Owen. The wind whipped his hair into his eyes. He raised a hand and pushed it back.
“Not if I be gettin’ my hands on them,” Owen pointed out.
“Hence, the reasons mages don’t let men like us close to them.” Sordith chuckled at Owen’s response. “Start getting the word out. I need to clean up and then I will be right there.”
Sordith turned at Owen’s salute and took the steps two at a time. He was so used to climbing them that they did not even wind him anymore. The day he couldn’t take them swiftly would be a day to worry about his end as Trench Lord. He was rather grateful for them today. The trench hall was higher up and less likely to be impacted by the trench then the denizens on a level with it.
He made his way to his suite. Keelee was nowhere to be seen; it was just as well, as he had given her a task and he was in a hurry. He had asked her to see about helping the trench orphans get to the cave he set aside for them. It was one on the leeward side of the city and would afford them safety and protection from the elements. Keelee was also going to see about getting it stocked with food and supplies for a couple of days. She had adjusted so well to her role as his lady and living in the trench.
Sordith had a soft spot for the city orphans who were too young to test or had failed their test. He too had been relegated to survival in the trench when he was a young boy. Starving, scavenging for food, sometimes thrown into servitude and beaten; this was the typical life of an orphan in the trench. It was a hard life even when the Trench Lord was generous, and Aorun had not been generous. Death in the trench was a daily event, but it stung when it was the young who were dying.
Sordith changed into clean clothes that would not smell of trench and fish. Since the day Luthian found Sordith and assorted females in Alador’s bed, the High Minister had treated him coldly; it wouldn’t do to make things even more strained by showing up filthy. The High Minister had established a very businesslike attitude toward the Trench Lord, treating him as though he was not worth his time, which suited Sordith just fine as he didn’t want the powerful mage meddling in the trench. Unfortunately, Luthian would need a report on the security of the harbor. More importantly Sordith knew Alador would be there, as he always was lately.
Once properly attired for the upper tiers, Sordith set out. Owen caught up with him at the steps to the first tier, and Sordith had to give him credit, for it looked as if Owen had at least attempted to clean up a bit. They made their way through the city and up the winding paths to the upper tiers. It was not a simplistic system for getting from the top to the bottom, but it was an effective defense mechanism.
The city was bustling with its normal routines. Merchants hawked their wares. Ladies strolled about showing off their latest dress or jewelry. Most seemed oblivious to the weather.
Relatively speaking, Silverport was a rich city. A mine of medure beneath its towering height ensured that those with any marketable skill did fairly well within the cities confines. For the most part, even lower tiered denizens who had little to no mage skill but had found placement as a servant were doing quite well.
Upon arrival, Sordith was admitted into the High Minister’s manor house with only minimal delay. He would have to step carefully if Alador and Luthian were together. Sordith didn’t want to give away how closely he and his half-brother were aligned. Fortunately, having saved the young mage’s life from Aorun, and then being present at his testing, had given him a little more room to maneuver.
He was ushered into Lord Luthian’s receiving room by a guard, having left Owen in the hall due to the oaf’s lack of social skills and somewhat “trench” flavor. The large room was as intimidating as he remembered it, lush and radiating the importance of its occupant. Luthian sat behind a massive desk in a calculated display of power that Sordith understood, having the same sort of setup in his own receiving chamber. Unlike his room, however, the walls here were lined with books and maps rather than weapons.
He approached to the proper distance and bowed low. “High Minister, thank you for seeing me.” He glanced about and caught sight of Alador over to his far left at his own small work desk. He nodded briefly and turned his attention back to Luthian.
Luthian beckoned for the guard that had escorted him in to leave them. “You do not call without invitation. I figured the matter must be urgent.” He laid down the letter he had been reading when Sordith entered.
Sordith got right to the point. “According to the weather watchers down at the harbor, there is a large storm descending on the city. I have the trading fleet out, but I was hoping I could borrow your storm mage to redirect the storm entirely, or at least soften its blow.” He glanced over at Alador and back to the High Minister.
Luthian waved a dismissive hand. “I hardly see the concern. We weather such storms every descent to the winter turn.” Luthian sat back in his chair.
Alador rose to join them. “If I may, Uncle, I too noted something is amiss with the storm that is approaching. I did not speak of it because I planned to check on it while you were in audience.” The three were now triangulated as Luthian sat considering.
“You feel it is larger than most?” Sordith watched as Luthian’s sharp eyes picked up the note of concern in Alador’s voice as well as his words.
“I do. I also felt that there was something… unnatural about it.” Alador replied uneasily.
“Unnatural?” Sordith asked, looking perplexed.
“Yes, I can’t explain it. It just feels… wrong, somehow.” Alador shrugged helplessly.
Luthian rose and went to the window. The storm had advanced, and while the weather was still quite warm, a wind had begun to pick up. The standards along the council tier were snapping firmly in the wind. A line of billowing black clouds was easily seen on the horizon. “Do you think we are being attacked by another storm mage?” Luthian turned to scrutinize his nephew.
“I don’t know. It was too far off this morning to discern much more than that it was… off and very large.” Alador admitted unhappily.
“Then it is time you took up the mantle you have trained for.” Luthian nodded to Sordith. “Alador is free to assist you with this storm. Do what must be done to secure the harbor’s safety.” Luthian rose and picked up a couple of papers. “I would join you out of curiosity, but I fear I am needed to see to the complaints of the merchant class at the moment.”
Alador bowed to his uncle’s decree while Sordith gave a brief nod. “Thank you, High Minister. I will be grateful for his services.” They both followed Luthian out of his office and parted in the hall to head down to the harbor.
“I will need to get my cloak.” Alador grimly stated as he strode down the hall to the door.
“Afraid you might melt, milord?” Sordith winked at Owen. He couldn’t call Alador brother, but his wit was rarely held back and he felt no concern at teasing his sibling.
“You’re right,” Alador conceded. “This storm is so big that a cloak is likely to be little help. Water rarely concerns me anyway.”
“You are spending too much time on this tier.” Sordith grumbled. “You are totally losing your sense of humor.”
“I have been told I never really had one to begin with,” the mage quipped back.
Sordith laughed. “True… matter of fact, I think that I am one who has cast such accusat
ions upon you.” The two men made their way off the council tier, with Owen following close behind in their wake.
Alador sobered, bringing the conversation back to serious matters. “I am a bit concerned about the tide combined with this storm. It appears that both will hit almost at the same time.”
The two men moved swiftly through the city, bustling activity parting for them as the Trench Lord and the fifth tier mage who had broken the testing sphere passed.
Once down to the busy third tier, the main merchant tier of the city, Alador turned toward the Blackguard caverns rather than the second tier.
“Where are you going?” Sordith paused as they started to go different directions.
“The overlook outside the caverns. It has the best view of both the harbor and the ocean,” Alador pointed out. He stopped and waited for Sordith and Owen to join him, and then the trio continued on.
Sordith lowered his voice so Owen could not overhear. “What could be unnatural about this storm?” He knew how to combat natural elements for the most part, but unnatural brought an unpredictable element. Sordith did not like the unpredictable.
Alador lowered his voice to a whisper. “Well, as Luthian suggested, it could be an attack from another mage.”.
“And if not that?” Sordith asked worriedly.
“I don’t know.”
Sordith’s brow wrinkled with concern and his voice dropped to an urgent whisper. “You are a storm mage, shouldn’t you know what else it might be? What about those dragon memories of yours?”
The look that Alador flashed him held something of frustration and irritation. Sordith realized that for the first time, he had little room left to push his half-brother. There was an air about Alador that was different. A strange confidence in his tone and his walk, and even his small mannerisms had changed. How much of the impulsive lad he had first met was left? They had not been able to talk much since Luthian put him on such a short leash.
Fallen Tiers Page 2
