Forging Divinity

by Rowe, Andrew

  “Huh,” Landen said. “I heard Edon made it.”

  Lydia shook her head vehemently. “No, the high palace long predates Edon’s coming to this city. It was made through hard work, not sorcery. That is part of what makes it so impressive.”

  The trio walked in silence for the next few minutes as they approached the palace grounds. Taelien marveled at the pristine garden they passed through on the way, the cultivated flowers accompanied by statues of each of the four local gods and champions of the days of old. As they finished the journey through the garden, the cobblestone path met with a marble walkway lined with silver-etched stone columns. As Taelien glanced at each of the columns, he could see that the silver was some sort of tiny script, but it was unreadable from the center of the path where he walked. Such wealth, Taelien considered. How many men and women could be fed for what these marvels cost?

  Four soldiers clad in polished mail saluted firmly as the trio approached. They stepped aside as the gate swung open, apparently controlled by some sort of internal mechanism. Lydia took the lead, apparently familiar with the location, while Landen and Taelien trailed behind.

  “You come here often?” Landen asked toward Lydia.

  “I used to work here,” Lydia replied. “When I was first hired as a court sorceress, I stayed here for two months before being reassigned to the lower palace when one of my predecessors retired.”

  “Ah, that makes sense,” Landen replied. “You’re lucky, I’d love to have spent that much time here.”

  Lydia shrugged. “It’s not the same when you’re working.”

  The Queensguard gave an understanding nod.

  I really need to isolate Lydia so we can discuss a plan, Taelien thought. His injured leg was starting to itch, but he resisted the urge to reach down and scratch at it. This has gone far beyond what we previously discussed.

  Another group of four guards approached their group moments after they stepped onto the purple carpet of the palace. Their leader wore a gold-etched breastplate, and Landen brought his right hand to his left shoulder in a salute as the man approached.

  “Captain,” Landen said, freezing in his step.

  The leader lazily returned Landen’s salute, and then raised his other hand to wipe the sweat off his brow.

  “Congratulations,” he said, not sounding very congratulatory. “The bunch of you get to come with me. Edon is waiting this way.”

  Taelien shot Lydia a questioning look, but she only shrugged at him, falling into step behind the new group of guards.

  Taelien glanced behind him, noting that not only were the six guards from the arena following them, so were the four that had been positioned at the palace door.

  Ten behind us, Taelien considered. Four in front. And Landen within striking range.

  They passed three more pairs of guards as they marched down softly carpeted halls, but these additional guards didn’t join the procession. Taelien wasn’t sure if he should be comforted by that fact or not.

  As they passed a pair of intersections, Lydia’s expression shifted into a slight grimace. Taelien noted a long, spiral staircase on their right side just past the second intersection, which Lydia glanced at as well. Landen’s expression seemed cheerful, as if nothing was amiss. That probably meant that either he was unaware of any pending treachery, or he was simply pleased to be a part of it. Neither thought was particularly reassuring.

  What are the odds that they know Lydia is working for the Paladins of Tae’os? Taelien considered. I really shouldn’t have accepted Landen’s idea to bring her along. Granted, having an extra sword would be handy in my current condition, but I wouldn’t want Jonan to have to rescue both of us later. Assuming there would be anything left to rescue.

  The guard captain with the gold-trimmed breastplate led the group to a third intersection, at which point he led the group to the left. Lydia slowed her pace, moving to a position directly at Taelien’s right. The others didn’t seem to notice.

  The front guards paused at a rose-colored door, taking positions to either side of it. “This way,” the captain said, knocking twice on the door and stepping to the side of it.

  The door opened from within, a tall blonde-haired man standing within, the Heartlance resting comfortably in his left hand. He was wearing a short-sleeved white shirt and gray trousers.

  “Ah, please, come in!” he said, sounding jovial, almost boyish.

  “Thank you, Lord Myros,” Landen said, raising his right hand to his left shoulder and bowing at the waist. Lydia made the same gesture, surprising Taelien for a moment.

  Should I do the same? Probably.

  He chose not to.

  “Thanks,” Taelien replied, stepping inside the open door. He gaped at the display of food within – half a dozen chefs bustled around a table set for ten, laying out steaming platters of a dozen exotic dishes. Even from the entrance, Taelien could smell garlic, onion, and the distinct aromas of cooked beef and chicken.

  A single figure sat at the head of the table – the one who had stood on the dais above the arena, shouting downward. Edon. He somehow managed to look just as tall while seated as he had while looming over the arena – but it was a trick of presence, not of light. Edon seemed to emanate an almost palpable sense of confidence.

  The god of ascension motioned for Taelien to come forward, a crystal-inlaid ring on Edon’s right hand sparkling brightly, and Taelien approached without hesitation.

  “Where should I sit?” Taelien asked, gesturing at the empty chairs surrounding the table.

  “You’re our guest, sit wherever you’d like,” Edon replied.

  Taelien walked past another pair of guards that stood on the inside of the doors – noting that these guards were wearing full plate, including helms – and took the seat to Edon’s left. It was a position of challenge in Rethri culture – it meant that he could draw his sword directly into an attack. He wasn’t sure if Edon caught the meaning behind it; the local culture likely had different standards.

  Edon only smiled benevolently, waving for the others to approach. “Please, Landen, Sorceress Lydia, Myros, come join us.”

  Taelien glanced around, looking for the other combatants, but he could see no sign of them. “Will the other Queensguard be attending?”

  “No,” Edon replied, “I only invited those who impressed me in the match. And the young sorceress seems to have invited herself,” he pointed out. Lydia tilted her head to the side quizzically. “Which also impresses me. You are welcome to stay,” he quickly added.

  Lydia nodded. “Thank you, Ascended,” she replied, bowing and saluting as she had with Myros. Taelien hadn’t heard her use that term for Edon before, but he assumed it was probably the man’s formal courtly title.

  The man with the Heartlance took a seat at Edon’s right, directly across from Taelien, just as Taelien had hoped. As Taelien nodded to the blonde man, he noted an oddity when he saw the inside of the spear-bearer’s exposed right elbow.

  No wound, not even a scar. Even a life sorcerer couldn’t heal something so perfectly so fast. Maybe the Heartlance helps him heal faster... But he’s a hint too tall, too, even if he’s slouching to cover it. This isn’t the same Myros I fought in the arena. Still, I’d better act like he is.

  Landen sat down next to Taelien, and Lydia next to “Myros”. That was mildly awkward – he would have felt better with Lydia at his side – but he admitted it was a good tactic on Lydia’s part. If the new Myros took any violent action, Lydia would be close enough to interfere.

  “Please,” Edon said, “Help yourself to the food. There will be plenty of time to discuss business after we’ve eaten our fill.

  Taelien nodded gratefully, slipping a plate of beef toward him without hesitation. If they wanted to kill him, poisoning the ointment they put on his wounds would have been much more efficient than trying to poison the food for a table with several others.

  Seeing Taelien take the lead, the others quickly began to pick at other plates. Chefs
came around and left glasses of deep red wine for each guest. These, Taelien considered, would be much more practical to poison. But I don’t think they’re going to try to off me so soon – it would look too suspicious.

  He took a sip, and it certainly didn’t taste like poison. Not that he had much experience to compare it to.

  “I have to ask,” Taelien began, turning to Edon with a goblet in his hands, “Why the fixation on my presence in the city? I didn’t come here to cause any trouble.”

  “Your capture was a simple misunderstanding,” Edon offered. “If I had been apprised of your arrival in the city, I would have offered you diplomatic freedom immediately. Unfortunately, as you are no doubt aware now, we have strict laws against wearing Tae’os-related symbols in public. I sincerely doubt the guards who arrested you had any concept of who they were dealing with.”

  Taelien nodded. “That makes sense,” Taelien replied. “I’m not particularly familiar with the history behind your city. I was just coming here to visit someone. Why do you have such strict laws about Tae’os worship?”

  “It usually doesn’t come to an arrest,” the not-Myros offered. “But we have to be careful not to allow Tae’os followers to propagate the old faith here.”

  “Why is that?” Landen asked, surprising Taelien. Everyone turned to look at Landen, with Edon seeming to notice the man for the first time. “I mean, they’re mostly harmless, aren’t they? Believe in life and freedom and such?”

  “Some sects have historically been much more violent than others,” Edon explained. “But violence is not the primary concern. I cannot tolerate the spread of ignorance in my city. The Tae’os Pantheon may have existed at one point – perhaps they still do. But they are no longer active in the world, and therefore no longer worthy of worship. Their religion misleads people into believing that these gods look after them, guide them, give them strength. That is no longer true.”

  “The laws are for the protection of the people, Landen,” Lydia explained, drawing a half-raised eyebrow from Taelien. “Old god worship prevents people from looking for real, practical solutions to their problems. They might stand over a sick man and pray to Lissari, for example, rather than seeking the aid of a doctor – or of the very real gods of our city.”

  “I suppose that makes sense, throwing them in irons just seems a bit harsh,” Landen replied, jerking a thumb at Taelien. “I heard from Veruden that they put him in chains. In the Adellan Room, no less. Where is Veruden, anyway? Thought he was coming.”

  Lydia glanced from side to side, frowning, apparently also processing Veruden’s unexpected absence.

  “Again, it is unfortunate that actions were taken against our honored guest,” Edon waved to Taelien, “Without my knowledge or consent. We have no laws that instruct anyone to bind Tae’os followers in chains. Typically, Tae’os-related symbols are simply confiscated, and the followers are educated and sent on their way.”

  Taelien remembered that someone – maybe Lydia? – had mentioned that Tae’os followers typically weren’t treated harshly, and that his case was unusual. And, of course, Lydia had explained that he was going to be executed if he hadn’t escaped.

  “I take no offense,” Taelien said, waving a hand dismissively in the air, turning back to Edon. “I understand that you were not involved in my arrest. That said, I would like to see measures taken to ensure nothing similar happens again.”

  Edon raised a hand to his chin. “Hrm. Is that what you’re asking for as your boon, then? A change in the laws, to protect Tae’os followers from abuse?”

  Taelien shook his head. “No, I’ll request that as a part of my new position as an ambassador. The boon will come later.”

  Edon smiled warmly. “Very good. I would hope you wouldn’t squander your prize on something as simple as that.”

  Squander? It would only be squandering the boon because you would not act on it in good faith. If anything, any abuses would simply be more secretive. I’m sure they will be either way, given how public this incident was.

  Taelien picked up a cutting knife and began to slice his beef into roughly equally sized pieces, considering. What should I ask for? What would give me leverage?

  I could ask for the Heartlance, he considered. It is ‘within his power’ to give it to me. But I’d risk grave offense. The type of grave offense that would put me in the grave, most likely.

  “You were very open-ended about this ‘boon’ you offered,” Taelien pointed out, still cutting his meat. “What are the exact terms?”

  “Ah, an excellent question. The boon must not violate any of our laws, create any kind of threat to the kingdom, or tax our resources in a way that would threaten the lives of the people of the city,” Edon explained, leaning forward across the table to pull a plate of bread toward him. The gesture seemed oddly disjointed from his lordly bearing.

  “All reasonable restrictions,” Taelien said, nodding.

  “You can have some time to consider it,” Edon offered. “In fact, I would be pleased for you to remain at the high palace as my guest. I believe we could learn a great deal from each other.”

  Taelien quirked a brow at that. “I am honored by the offer, but I fail to see what knowledge I could offer you. I’m just a swordsman.”

  Landen and not-Myros both scoffed at that. “You are hardly ‘just a swordsman’, Taelien. I haven’t had a fight like that in ages,” the Myros said.

  You haven’t had a fight like that at all, Taelien thought, but he forced a grin. “You flatter me. I know I could not have won an extended exchange. I was forced to resort to dubious tactics,” Taelien offered, trying to sound more humble than he actually felt.

  “Dubious or not, they sure worked,” Landen said, putting a hand on Taelien’s shoulder. “You ever feel like doing a team bout, you come to me first.”

  Taelien turned and nodded to Landen. “I’d like that, actually. I regret not having a chance to see more of your Lysen Tear style.”

  Landen nodded. “I’m sure we can set something up in the future.”

  “Another bout with you in the arena would be certain to draw a great crowd,” Edon offered. “You were quite impressive today. We could arrange for you to demonstrate your skills again, perhaps to raise funds for a cause of your choice.”

  Taelien pondered that. Another chance for them to try to off me in the ring, he considered, but that might be too blatant. Perhaps he just wants to use my reputation to make his city look better. Making me a local champion helps detract from any stories that I was initially mistreated, and it would even help make it look like he’s being very reasonable about the Tae’os Pantheon.

  Or, Taelien considered, it might even look like the Tae’os Pantheon has a presence here. And that it works for, or with, him.

  “I’ll have to think about it. Truth be told, I probably need a few days to recover before I make any serious decisions.” Taelien laughed, and the others laughed along with him.

  “Yeah, you took a bit of a beating there,” the Myros said in a friendly tone. “But that’s to be expected, given that it was five on one.”

  “He evened out those odds pretty well, I’d say,” Landen groaned. “How’d you do that trick with pulling away all of our swords?”

  Edon seemed to turn his gaze more intently toward Taelien in response to Landen’s question.

  “Trade secret,” Taelien replied with a grin. “Maybe I’ll teach you someday.”

  “Don’t make promises if you’re not going to keep them,” Landen replied with a grin.

  “Not a promise,” Taelien amended, raising his hands in a warding gesture. “Just a possibility. It depends on how long I’m in the city.”

  “Well, I believe we can all agree that you would be welcome for a long stay,” Edon offered, taking a bite of a hunk of brown bread. Still chewing, he turned toward Lydia. “You’re awfully quiet, sorceress.”

  “I am simply overwhelmed in such austere company, Ascended,” Lydia replied, bowing her head slightly. />
  “Resh, I don’t remember you being so timid when I brought you on as a sorceress,” Edon said, waving his bread-carrying hand. “Tell us, what do you think Taelien should ask me for his boon?”

  Lydia quirked a brow, turning to Taelien, and then back to Edon. She raised two fingers, pushing up her glasses. “Well, if I was in his position,” she said, sounding as if she was pondering aloud, “I would ask you to make me a god.”

  A broad smile slid across Edon’s face. “Ah,” he said, setting his bread down. “Now that’s more like the sorceress I remember. A brilliant idea, and ambitious. Strictly speaking, it would not violate any of my conditions. Somehow, I doubt it would be to his style-“

  “Very well, make me a god,” Taelien said. “That is the boon I require.”

  I was planning to ask for help finding Erik Tarren, but there’s a good chance Edon is one of his enemies if Tarren was working with Tae’os followers. This could get me more information, and more power, if it’s actually true.

  Edon turned to Taelien, tilting his head to the side, chewing for another moment and then swallowing. “Interesting.” He paused. “Very interesting. I would not have expected that.” Edon glanced to Lydia, and then back to Taelien. “Very well, then. That particular boon has a condition, however.”

  “You’d really consider that, master?” the Myros asked, shooting a quizzical glance at Edon. Landen seemed to have fallen silent for a change, glancing rapidly between Taelien and Edon.

  Edon waved a hand dismissively at the Myros. “I offered him any boon within my capability. Godhood is not simple to obtain, as you already know.” He turned to Taelien. “I can’t simply snap my fingers and make you a god,” he explained. “But I can put you on the path, and offer my help.”

  “Accepted,” Taelien said. “When do we start?”

  “As you accurately pointed out, you probably should take some time to rest before doing anything taxing. And, I assure you, the tests of godhood will be taxing.” Edon place his elbows on the table, looking straight at Taelien. “There will be considerable danger – both failure and death are possible.”