Forging Divinity

by Rowe, Andrew

  Tests of godhood. That seems like a great time for him to try to get rid of me.

  Taelien glanced at Lydia, but her expression was neutral. He looked back to Edon. “I will take some time to prepare for these challenges, then. Perhaps your champions,” he indicated Landen and Myros, “Or even your sorceress could help me prepare.”

  “You will be given all the resources you need,” Edon assured him. “But you must understand this – if I help to make you a god, you will be a god of this city. Dedicated to this city, and its protection. Those are my terms.”

  “I have no objection to that,” Taelien replied, turning to Lydia too late to catch the trepidation in her features. A knock sounded on the door a moment later, causing all the people present to turn.

  “Open,” Edon said, and the door swung open, seemingly of its own accord. A thin, lanky-looking young man stood in the doorway, looking nervous.

  “I, um, am so sorry to bother you. The queen – er, Queen Regent Tylan – has requested Lydia,” he stammered.

  “Go ahead, sorceress,” Edon offered. “You can dine with us again another night.”

  Lydia turned to Edon, putting down her food, and gave him another bow and salute. “Thank you, Ascended. I will look forward to it.”

  She pushed herself away from the table, giving Taelien one final look, and pleading with her eyes for him to be careful.

  I’m always careful, he said with his return glance and a half-grin. Especially when I’m charging right at my enemies.

  Lydia gave a bow and salute to the Myros, nodded to Landen, and retreated from the room.

  Chapter XI – Necessary Precautions

  Lydia followed a pair of guards toward the queen regent’s sitting room, swallowing her nervousness. She still had her Comprehensive Barrier spell active in case of emergencies, but she was more worried about Taelien’s situation than her own. He was isolated now, amongst any number of potential threats – and in spite of his obvious combat prowess, she doubted his chances against Edon and Myros together.

  What is he? Lydia pondered as she followed along familiar corridors. And what do I need to do to protect him?

  Mentioning godhood as a boon had been a gamble – she hadn’t expected him to accept. Now, they had placed Edon in an even more precarious position than before. He’d have to deliver his promise to Taelien or find a way to remove the swordsman from the equation quickly and quietly. Like right now, for instance.

  The sorceress shook her head, dismissing those foreboding thoughts as she arrived at the door to the queen regent’s room. Tylan would have her own agenda, and Lydia didn’t have time to worry on Taelien’s behalf at the moment.

  The guards abandoned her at the door, presumably having only been ordered to escort her that far. Lydia knocked politely. It was hardly her first time visiting the queen regent, but she hadn’t been back to the high palace in several months.

  “Come in, dear,” came Tylan’s voice from inside. Lydia twisted the door handle and stepped in, sweeping her sword out of the way to prevent it from knocking against the wood.

  The queen regent was sitting in a large chair behind her work desk, inspecting the top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. Her garb was simple gray and white, her face marred by many years of worry lines. If Lydia didn’t know the woman, she might have assumed her to be a secretary, rather than the current ruler of the kingdom.

  The chamber was simple enough, with broad curtains blocking out the light from the single window and a lit fireplace in the corner providing the only major source of illumination. Three other chairs sat opposite the queen regent, but none of them were currently occupied.

  A quick glance from side-to-side told Lydia that there was no one else in the room – at least no one else that was visible. Her instincts told her to check for hidden attackers, but tact overruled her uneasiness. Casting a spell immediately on entering would probably come across as both rude and paranoid.

  “Queen Regent,” Lydia said politely, bringing her right hand into a salute.

  “Close the door behind you,” the queen regent said, waving a hand.

  Lydia turned and closed the door, feeling even more isolated.

  “Come sit down.”

  Lydia followed the order quickly, taking a seat in the center of the three chairs across from the queen regent. Tylan looked up immediately as Lydia sat, shifting her stacks of paper aside and looking straight at the sorceress.

  “I have a task for you, Lydia,” Tylan said, steepling her fingers on the table.

  Lydia nodded. An odd time to ask for something, but not that strange, I suppose. She’s given me orders before. “What do you need?”

  The queen regent reached to another pile of papers on the table, split the stack, and immediately retrieved a paper from the top. She flipped it around to face Lydia and passed it across the table.

  “There’s a caravan leaving the city in two hours. They’ll be waiting at the address at the top of that page. You’re to hand that paper over to the captain of the caravan’s guards, Korin Matthews. You’ll note my seal at the bottom.”

  Lydia quickly glanced over the page, noting a wax seal at the bottom with the symbol of a harp. The page instructed that Lydia was to take command over the caravan in the case of attacks by enemy sorcerers. She looked back up at the queen quizzically.

  “Problem?” the queen regent asked.

  “No, queen regent. Why are you expecting an attack on the caravan by sorcerers?” Lydia rested her hands in her lap, contemplating.

  “There have been some peculiar rumors about foreign sorcerers working within the city. Your presence will merely be a precaution,” the queen regent said with a soft smile.

  Foreign sorcerers? Wait, are those rumors about me? Or Jonan, perhaps?

  “May I bring some additional support with me, in that case? Court Sorcerer Veruden, perhaps?”

  Tylan shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure you’ll be quite capable of handling any incidents by yourself.”

  Lydia allowed herself to frown. “And the caravan is leaving in two hours? I’ll barely have the time to make it to the gate by then.”

  “You’d better get running, then. Is there anything else?”

  Lydia read over the paper again. “It doesn’t say anything about what this caravan is carrying.”

  “No,” the queen regent replied. “It doesn’t. There are six wagons. Their cargo is all very valuable. The third wagon from the front is carrying an ambassador from Selyr. The caravan is his. He needs to leave immediately, and he needs to survive the journey to Coldridge. Once you get him there, you can return home. Any trouble should occur before that point.”

  The sorceress quirked a brow. “Would you mind divulging the source of these ‘rumors’? It might help give me some context for making the necessary defensive preparations.”

  The queen regent waved a hand dismissively. “I have my resources, dear. Just be careful. I wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to you.”

  “Thank you,” Lydia said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. Sometimes I hate this job.

  Lydia pressed a newly-written note against the mirror in her pouch. Away on queen’s business for a few days, it said. With business attended to, she followed the queen regent’s directions to the location of the caravan.

  “Korin Matthews?” Lydia inquired, noting a man in front of the caravan wearing a gold-trimmed silver breastplate. He was shorter than most of the Queensguard, but he looked very athletic, and he wore a flanged mace on his left hip.

  “That’s me,” he said, turning around toward her. He looked startled when he faced her, taking a step back. “A sorceress? What can I help you with?”

  “Looks like I’m coming along with you for the ride,” she said, handing him the wax-sealed letter.

  “Huh,” he said, reading it over. “I hadn’t heard anything about this, but I’m not one to argue with a sorceress. Or the queen, of course. ‘Sorcerous support�
�? What’s that mean, precisely?”

  She leaned over to whisper to him, “Means we’re probably going to be attacked. Possibly by another sorcerer, actually. Keep three eyes open, yeah?”

  He leaned back and nodded to her solemnly. “You can count on me, miss sorceress. Let me go tell the other guards.”

  She snagged his arm as he turned to leave. “Just keep it discrete. I don’t want the civilians hearing about it.”

  Korin raised an eyebrow. “Not sure I see the sense in that.”

  She leaned in again. “I don’t want anyone to panic, and if the sorcerer is among the people within the wagons, I don’t want him to know that we’re aware he might be attacking us soon.”

  He nodded solemnly and put a hand on the arm that she had used to seize him. “Not to worry, miss. I’ll use the utmost discretion.”

  “May I inspect the wagons?” Lydia asked.

  He shook his head. “Guess you haven’t heard yet. Our orders are not to disturb anyone inside those wagons, for any reason. Important ambassadors or some such. Like to keep to themselves.”

  Ambassadors...And the queen said an ambassador from Selyr... Does she mean Rethri ambassadors?

  Oh, gods, are we shipping prisoners?

  “No problem,” Lydia said brightly. “I’ll look forward to working with you and your men.”

  “Thanks,” he said, pulling his arm away. “I need to get back to work.”

  “One last thing,” she said. “Hand that arm back.”

  He raised an eyebrow quizzically, and then handed his arm back over silently. She took his hand.

  “Dominion of Protection, fold against his skin.”

  A shimmering field of translucent energy enveloped his body for just an instant, and then faded into invisibility.

  “Uh, thanks?”

  “A precaution, is all. Hopefully it won’t turn out to be necessary,” Lydia smiled. “Now, let’s get this caravan ready to go, shall we?”

  Night had fallen before the caravan exited the city gates. They were only about an hour behind schedule, which was good by caravan standards, at least in Lydia’s experience. It helped that none of the inhabitants of the five front wagons ever entered or exited their enclosures. Only the people riding in the rear wagon – a few civilians unassociated with the rest of the caravan – came out to finish packing their goods or carouse with the guards.

  “Why are there civilians in the last wagon?” Lydia asked.

  Korin shrugged. “Until you came by, we weren’t aware there was anything unusual about this escort. Although, to be fair, I’m not usually put on caravan guard duty. Lord Esslemont insisted on coming along with us, since he’s heading the same direction we are and he wanted protection. I wasn’t in a position to argue.”

  “Why would someone want to leave the city in the middle of the night?” Lydia pondered aloud.

  “It’s not really that unusual, miss, especially during the warmer months. It’s possible they just didn’t want to deal with the heat, or perhaps they just had final preparations to make during dawnfire hours.”

  Lydia nodded. “That might be right. Thanks for the reassurance.”

  Korin gave her a half-salute and went back to organizing.

  The wagon drivers were all members of Korin’s guard, which somewhat unusual, but not unheard of. They seemed well-trained, but nervous – probably because Korin’s “trusted few” guards had spread the word of a potential attack to all the others. If the attacker was already traveling with the caravan – a possibility that Lydia had considered – this heightened sense of nervousness might have put the attacker on alert as well. Lydia had judged that warning the guards was worth the risk, but the ambiguity of the situation left a foul taste in her mouth.

  She’d need to react, rather than taking the aggressors out in advance. She hated operating that way – though it would hardly be the first time she’d been forced into that situation. She knew to take precautions for the contingencies she was capable of planning for.

  “Dominion of Protection, fold against my skin and teach me the secrets of the Dominions that assault you.”

  Lydia renewed the Comprehensive Barrier that protected her just as the front wagon began to move. The spell sent a tiny tingle along her skin, causing her to shiver for just a moment.

  Can’t cast too many more of these today or I’m going to be useless for days. Protection spells drew from the body’s natural ability to ward off harm. Practicing protection sorcery often ended with Lydia sick in bed or nursing stubborn bruises that appeared from the even a mild brush with anything particularly solid.

  She’d marched along with the wagons, alongside three regular soldiers and Korin. He’d offered her a place to sit alongside any one of the caravan guards, but she’d declined. Coldridge was a long walk – over a day away, at a caravan’s pace – but she didn’t trust her perception to be as good while riding. This way, she could periodically walk by each of the wagons to check for disturbances.

  The wagons made it out of the city without incident, as she’d expected. She had Korin list out the names of the guards with her, but none of them struck her as particularly suspicious. She’d met a handful of them from work at one of the two palaces, but she didn’t know any of them particularly well.

  Korin himself seemed friendly enough. His anxiousness faded a bit as they made it into the open air of the wooded trail outside the city, winding toward the north west.

  If I was a renegade sorcerer, when would I choose to attack a caravan on the way to Coldridge?

  Lydia pondered that question inconclusively, but it led her to a more important one. Why would someone be attacking this caravan in the first place?

  She let herself fall back to the second to the last wagon, taking a slow pace as she considered her options. They’ve been very insistent that no one go inside the other wagons. Someone has to have seen them loaded, though. Maybe I can get one of the guards to talk.

  Then again, if someone along the caravan is going to help coordinate the attack, I don’t want to arouse their awareness of my awareness. Hrm.

  One of the guards driving the wagon noticed her and gave a little wave. She waved back, giving him a friendly nod, and turned her head back to the road.

  If only I could see inside the wagon without going in there.

  Like what Jonan did with the door to his house.

  I wonder...

  She glanced at the door side of the wagon, and then let herself fall behind a little further, out of the sight of any of the guards.

  She had no experience at Liadran style sorcery, or at anything involving the Dominion of Sight – but her Comprehensive Barrier had absorbed one of his spells. It gave her an intrinsic understanding of the spell that had been cast, almost as if she had used it herself. She had never attempted to cast a spell based on that data alone before – but now seemed like a good time to try.

  First, Lydia had to adjust her Comprehensive Barrier. Her style of barrier would be triggered by any sort of incoming sorcery, regardless of the source. That meant that even spells she attempted to cast on herself would be blocked by it, as long as it was active. Any spell that impacted with the shield would expend some of its energy, regardless of whether or not that spell was harmless. The stronger the spell, the more the barrier would be weakened.

  She took a deep breath, visualizing the barrier in her mind, and spoke. “Suppress barrier, face.”

  Lydia felt as slight tingle across her face as the barrier reshaped, and she knew from experience that she had just created a hole in the barrier. This would both allow the incoming spell to work, and to prevent the barrier from being weakened.

  Touching the wall of the wagon, Lydia pictured the spell that Jonan had cast in her mind. Eyes close. Erase target in mind. Sustain image; target self. Open eyes.

  When she reopened her eyes, nothing had visibly changed. Lydia tensed her jaw in frustration.

  What was I expecting? Casting a completely new type of sorcery su
ccessfully on my first try?

  Hrm. She tapped a finger on the wood absently. Maybe I can adapt it to work with the Velryan style?

  The sorceress took a deep breath, glancing from side-to-side self-consciously.

  Now or never, I guess.

  “Dominion of Sight,” she muttered, “Erase the image before me, but only for myself.”

  Lydia’s vision blurred – but within the blur, she could see the contents of the wagon. She gaped, both at the success of the spell and the figures inside.

  Two Rethri males, adults, reclined against the right wall. They looked awake and aware, and one of them leaned in close to the other, whispering something that Lydia couldn’t hear.

  On the opposite side were children. Four figures, bundled in blankets, huddled together. Their eyes were closed – she couldn’t determine if they were Rethri or human. Upon reflection, she couldn’t even tell if they were sleeping or dead; although the blankets wouldn’t have made much sense in the latter case.

  What am I dealing with here? She had considered the possibility that the missing Rethri were in the wagons, but Jonan’s description had only included children. And these adults didn’t look to be captive in any way – they were awake, aware, and unencumbered by any sort of chains or shackles.

  “Stop the wagons!” came a voice from the front of the line.

  Lydia broke into a run, her vision still swimming from her unexpected use of sight sorcery. Good time to try out a new trick, Lydia. Really.

  She came up behind Korin a few moments later, who stood in the middle of the road, three other guards at his side. He faced off against a figure in violet robes, who stood about ten paces further down the road. It wasn’t until Lydia came up to Korin’s side that she recognized the bandages on the opposing sorcerer’s right hand.

  “Lydia?” Veruden’s voice called out incredulously. “You’re the traitor?”