The Arcanist

by Greg Curtis

  In time, maybe an hour or two, things got better. He started to find his thoughts again. To recover a little strength. Even to have some of his hearing restored so that he could hear Kyriel yelling at them – by all that was holy she could yell! But by the time that happened they were almost at the outflow and he didn't need to hear her to know what to do. The sight of the sunlight beyond the grate was enough to tell him that.

  Edouard pushed on hard, finding a sudden burst of strength and soon the outflow was just in front of him and he thought it was one of the prettiest sights he had ever seen. Too pretty to hold back from, and so he dived underneath it and quickly found himself in the river beyond.

  Bliss! The sunlight kissed his skin, warming the water in which he swam. The water was cold but so much cleaner than what he'd been wading through. And best of all no one was trying to kill him. It was as though all his cares had suddenly melted away and he was once more a carefree child swimming in a lake. He could have stayed there all day.

  That wasn't allowed though. He discovered that when a pair of soldiers waded into the river, grabbed him by the arms and started pulling him out. They were rather insistent. Perhaps that was a good thing. The buoyancy of his clothing was failing and the weight of the plate was starting to weigh him down. It was becoming harder to float.

  Soon he found himself standing on the river bank, feeling a little bit like his old self again. The bracingly cold water and the relief of knowing that his battle was over had returned something of his mind to him. Enough that he allowed himself to be led by the soldiers back to the encampment where people awaited him. Kyriel had to support him for most of the journey though. Every bone in his body was aching, crying out for sleep.

  But one thing had to be done before he could rest. He knew it when he saw Vesar in front of him being escorted by the soldiers at gun point. And when he saw the princes standing up ahead of them, staring at them. They looked somewhat shocked. Not by him though. They were staring at Vesar. No doubt they knew him.

  Eventually Edouard found himself standing in front of them – just – and being addressed. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying – the roaring in his ears was still too loud for that. But he knew enough to wait until they finished speaking.

  “Your Highness. This is Vesar, advisor to the false king and leader of the enemy forces. He is a prisoner taken in battle. He needs to receive a fair trial and be heard on a matter of justice regarding his people.”

  It sounded right to him even if his voice sounded a little as though he was speaking under water, and Edouard was pleased with himself. But at the same time he was starting to feel weak again. He missed the support the water had lent him and Kyriel had let him go.

  Prince Edmond answered him but Edouard couldn't make out what he was saying. Only that it looked important and that he was waving his arms around quite a bit. So Edouard just stood there, trying to look as though he understood and bowing politely when he seemed to be done. The bowing though proved to be a mistake.

  Edouard bowed just a little too low, and suddenly discovered that the grass was rising up to meet him. But it was soft and cool and when he met it he suddenly didn't want to move. Not even when hands started pulling at him.

  Still, he tried to get up. He really did. But it somehow seemed that the harder he tried the worse it got. He was simply out of strength. And when the light started fading as well, that seemed only as it should be.

  Chapter Fifty Nine

  Marcus marched at the head of his soldiers as he led them over the remains of the wall and into Theria for the first time in months and all he could think was that here was where the battle would be joined. But it hadn't been. There had been a few skirmishes from the sides which his soldiers had quickly ended, but there was no army in front of them that he could see.

  Where were the mechanical demons? Where was the army of monsters? They'd expected them both. They'd prepared for them. But there was nothing. All he could see were ruined buildings and an empty battlefield.

  Still, they were in the city, standing on Wall Street, and there was only one thing to do.

  “Form up and advance!”

  He shouted the order at the men and others echoed it for him, and quickly he had an army standing with him instead of a rabble. That was good for them, but bad for the rock gnomes. They should have been there to greet them as they scrambled over the pile of rubble that had been the city wall. That would have been their best time to attack. But if they weren't going to that was fine by him.

  After that he led them at a slow march, weapons at the ready, across the battlefield of ruins.

  A hundred yards on they met their first resistance. A volley of shots rang out from somewhere ahead of them. A few of his men fell, but not many and Marcus would have guessed they weren't badly injured. Between the distance and the fact that they were wearing some basic armour, the chances of the shots being lethal were small. The rock gnomes however, weren't going to be so fortunate. In fact the Seven were going to punish them severely.

  “Bring the cannon!”

  Immediately he gave the order, a brace of cannon were wheeled forward and set up beside him, while he and a score of his best shots stood beside them with Edouard's four barrelled muskets in their hands, hunting for the enemy. Normal muskets might not have the range, but these did.

  A few shots rang out from his men. They could just see the heads of a few of the rock gnomes bobbing up and down behind some of the piles of rubble as they reloaded frantically, and it was too good a target to pass up. A handful of those heads did not get back up again. But really, his people's role was to back up the cannon.

  “Ready Sir!” The leader of the cannoneers called out to him when the cannon were loaded.

  “Fire!”

  A moment later the two cannon fired a wall of shot at the positions of the enemy, and the result was everything he could have hoped for. The broken walls that had been acting as barricades fell down, exposing the rock gnomes hiding behind them. Naturally they broke and ran. If they'd been smart or properly trained they would have dropped to the ground and crawled to safety behind something else. But they weren't smart or well trained and so they panicked. Marcus and his men quickly brought the fifty or so of them to the ground.

  But fifty? How could it be only fifty? That was what Marcus didn't understand. There should be thousands of them. There should be mechanical demons everywhere. There should be an army of monsters. It didn't make sense. Had they all fled the city somehow?

  “Reload!”

  Marcus gave the order, knowing there was nothing else to do. This looked like being the way the battle would be fought. Skirmish after skirmish against handfuls of the enemy hidden in entrenched positions. There would be no meeting of armies on the field of battle.

  So that was what they did for the next hour. They fired on each new position they found, flushed out the enemy and killed them, before advancing another score of paces. It took them that time to advance a hundred and fifty yards. But those hundred and fifty yards were covered with bodies. Mostly the enemy's, but also some of theirs.

  Then a messenger came running toward him from the encampment with the news that his brother was alive and that Vesar was in custody. That filled Marcus with cheer, and not just because Edouard was still with them. But because it explained why they weren't facing the mechanical demons. Vesar, according to what Simon had told them, had been the one to raise them. And maybe he'd also been the one to bring the armies of monsters across as well.

  Even as he was celebrating that wonder, another soldier came running with news, and this time from his own lines. They'd just crossed the enemy's former front lines and his soldiers were scouting the area looking for survivors. But instead they'd found something they hadn't expected. Civilians.

  They shouldn't be on a battlefield. But they were. They had been found locked up in basements and back rooms. Chained and bound. And obviously in poor health after however long they'd spent without food
. But they were alive. Exactly as the other survivors Edouard had found and released. And as he watched his soldiers freeing them group by group, Marcus couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of hope. Not only might they win this battle without too many casualties, but they might save some people as well. This could end up as a battle of liberation. They could actually save Theria!

  “Search every house behind our front line, and free anyone you find. And then send them back to the encampment.”

  Marcus gave the orders, knowing that this war was not going to be the one he had so carefully prepared for. Not anymore. Instead of an all out pitched battle it was going to be a long drawn out series of skirmishes, with their enemies hidden in buildings and behind makeshift barricades. And instead of being a single massive battle which would be won or lost in an hour, it would last for days.

  But that didn't matter. What mattered was that they were going to win it. That they were going to rescue more of their people. That few of his men would fall to the enemy. And that Theria would soon be liberated.

  Chapter Sixty

  Edouard was hiding. Though he would never have admitted it. He had found himself a nice little spot on the bench seat around the side of the fort behind some willows, and was feeling good about that. The spot was out of sight of Leona and her army of servants as they wandered in and out of the fort cleaning. That was important when he was certain that if she spotted him he would be put on cleaning duties. Marcus might be the commander on the battlefield, but in the home he had nothing on Leona.

  Edouard was feeling good about the fullness of his stomach too – it had been a good breakfast. The food had improved since Leona had taken command of the fort. He had to admit that. The bed was softer and cleaner, the fort smelled fresher and the light coming through the windows was somehow brighter; all thanks to his sister's merciless war on dirt.

  But still he was hiding.

  It was nice in the garden Edouard thought. Peaceful and sunny. He valued peace above all else when Leona was inside ordering the servants about like a cantankerous drill sergeant. They had a lot of servants now too. His sister had started hiring. The Lady of the House was at home and determined to be listened to as she set about fixing things. Fixing the thousand and one things he was certain hadn't been broken before. He wasn't fool enough to object though. In fact he was just about smart enough to stay out of her sight and pretend to be asleep if she called.

  The smell of the garden was also a blessing from the Divines. The freshness of the grass and the scents of the flowers. The good honest smell of dirt. After so many days wandering through the sewers, being covered in effluent and excreta, he welcomed the clean scent of the country air. His family did too. They hadn't even bothered washing his clothes. Leona had taken one look at them and simply announced that they had to be burnt. He guessed he was lucky not to have joined them in the incinerator. As it was the servants had scrubbed him for hours with brushes and carbolic soap and made him have three baths before he could even go to bed. Maybe they'd had reason. The water they'd drained from each bath had been black.

  After that three days in bed and another four simply resting had helped to return a little strength to him, though not he suspected, the unpleasant concoctions of the physicians they kept making him drink. Those didn't help at all.

  Now though, having rested and recovered, his first task was to keep from being drafted into the cleaning army. His next was to try and work out what to do for the next few years. Until the family's new home was built and he had his fort once more to himself.

  He couldn't help but think that it would be difficult staying out of the way of everyone for all that time. Perhaps a trip might be in order. Somewhere far enough away that he might be forgotten about. Though of course he would still have to be here for the trial in a few months. And for the coronation.

  His father had been very clear on some things. He had just moved up in the family. There would be greater expectations placed upon him. He would have to be seen at more official functions. Sit on some committees. Attend court. Give up his self-indulgent life as an arcanist. And of course the threat of marriage was still hanging over his head like an axe waiting to drop. The only reason it hadn't dropped already he guessed was that his father like every other noble from Therion was busy trying to work out which families had what resources remaining. No one wanted to wed into a family that had become penniless.

  Edouard's response to that had been to agree and nod a lot, and try to work out ways to stretch out his convalescence for as long as possible. But that wasn't going to be as long as he would like. Not when Janus was still in the fort and now had a permanent supply of vermillion leaf. Already his injuries were mostly recovered and even the scarring on his back was finally fading. His shirts hadn't had much blood on them at all lately.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Startled, Edouard looked up to see Kyriel standing in front of him, indicating the seat beside him. He was surprised. She'd never asked to sit beside him before. And in any case he had thought she was busy with her sister.

  “Only by you my Lady.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled politely at him, stepped over to the other side of the bench, straightened her dress and sat down elegantly.

  Edouard had to admit she was looking a lot better than she had in the sewers. Her hair was washed and sparkled in the sunlight, glowing almost with a white, gold aura. Her dress was neat and clean, and for some reason it seemed to show off her womanly attributes even more clearly than before. She might not be a demoness like Denetta very nearly bursting out of her dress, but she still had all the right curves a woman should have.

  “How is your sister?” He asked because he was curious and because he wanted to make certain she was nowhere nearby. Meeting her once had been quite enough.

  “Young and annoying. She is still bitterly angry with me, blaming me for our Father's loss of his position as the head of House Mystral. However, after speaking with Tyrel I doubt she wishes to kill me anymore.”

  That Edouard could believe. He doubted that there was anyone in the world crazy enough to want to cause harm to one of the hamadryad's handmaidens after having actually met Tyrel.

  “Besides, she was humbled quite brilliantly by April. That has dented her pride.”

  “She wouldn't –?” Edouard was suddenly worried.

  “No.” Kyriel was quick to reassure him. “That would be too shameful. Just to do what she did was shameful. To attack someone who has given her no cause, who is not part of a warring house and who is not trained was a stain upon her honour. To do it again after she has been defeated and released by that already wronged woman would make her the worst kind of brigand.”

  “Good.” Edouard didn't really understand her people's ways, but he trusted her when she said it was over.

  “So, are we hiding here for a reason?”

  “Hiding? Never! Why would I be hiding?” Edouard did his best to sound surprised and indignant, but he wouldn't have convinced anyone. Least of all Kyriel it seemed who was hiding a smile behind her hand. He had to admit it was a nice expression on her face.

  “For the same reason that Thomas is on the other side of the fort hidden behind some rose bushes with his niece and nephew, Janus is in the town examining the clinic he has examined a hundred times before and your father has run to Bitter Crest. Fear of having a cleaning cloth forced into your hands!” She giggled quietly.

  “I prefer to think of it as making a strategic retreat!”

  She didn't believe him of course, and her smile grew broader. There was even some colour in her cheeks.

  “Then perhaps good Sir you could retreat a little further in your horseless carriage. I could use a lift to Theria. The Mother has asked for a report on how progress is coming along on building the new shrine.”

  Theria. It wasn't Edouard's favourite place to visit just then. He'd in fact had enough of the city for some time after spending so long wandering its sewers. And he didn't want to s
ee the ruins above ground again. Not so soon anyway. The princes were there and a small gathering of the Court were with them as they discussed the rebuilding of the city. They were suggesting it would take years, but really Edouard thought it was a task that would take decades at least.

  The rest of Therion was recovering slowly. The people were already returning to the smaller towns and villages, and Breakwater now had maybe a third of its former population back. The portal system was a marvel for returning people to their homes. But Theria itself had been all but destroyed. There weren't so many homes left.

  Their own family manor had been badly damaged by fire, and though it could be restored to its former glory, what was the point if there was no city around it? Besides, the warehouses were gone too. The heart of the trading concern that had been the House of Barris had been torn from it.