by Joseph Lallo
He shielded his eyes. What by the God was she thinking? She would burn herself out! He was about to pull her away, when the light changed again. One moment she glowed fit to burn him, the next, Renard did. He blinked watering eyes, delighted that Julia had found a way to heal him, but then his delight turned to concern. His friend was glowing, but it wasn’t the pure white light of a mage linked to his magic—it was blue!
Renard turned slowly to stare at him.
Mathius recoiled. An intense blue light shone from his friend’s eyes. “Are you well?” he said uncertainly.
Renard smiled and raised a finger to his lips.
The light intensified until he couldn’t bear to look. He shielded his eyes with one hand, not willing to turn away and miss anything. Moments later, the room plunged into darkness, leaving him blinking and half-blind. He peered around, trying to find where Renard had gone, but there was no sign of him.
“He’s dead,” Julia said wearily.
“But where’s—”—his body? he finished silently.
Julia stepped to the door and opened it. “I won’t let any more of my friends die,” she said wearily, sounding resigned to her fate. She left, and the door clicked shut behind her, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
* * *
35 ~ Son of Malcor
Julia straightened from examining the man, and turned to the others in the room. “He’s unconscious, does anyone know him?”
Mathius shrugged and shook his head.
“It’s Jihan. He’s heir to Malcor,” Keverin said. “Malcor holds the north.”
“One of the Four?” Julia said.
Keverin nodded. “His father is Athlone, Lord Protector of the North.”
His every day tone didn’t fool her. She knew that particular expression of his only too well. Why did he hate Athlone, apart from his unwillingness to send aid? The raid on East Town was long ago. Surely that was all over with now?
“I haven’t seen any Malcorans here have I?” she said, knowing the answer, but hoping to draw him out.
“No,” Keverin said shortly.
“Nor will you,” Mathius added. “Athlone doesn’t—”
“Mathius,” Keverin warned, and Mathius fell silent, flushing at the rebuke. “Athlone regards himself as my enemy.”
“I know about his father and brother, and about the raiding, but surely the invasion is more important?”
“I think so, but he sees things differently. He would allow Deva to burn if it would ensure my fall.”
She winced at his bitterness. “What about the woman with him?”
“A village girl by her clothes. How is she?” Mathius said.
“She’s fine—” she broke off as the door opened to admit the subject of their discussion.
The woman wore a blue cotton dress now, donated by Jessica. It made her seem very young. She marched up to the bed, and laid a hand upon Jihan’s forehead.
“Please, sir wizard, heal him,” she said to Mathius.
“I’m sorry, I cannot.”
Keverin took charge. “What is your name, lady?”
“Ahnao.”
“I am Keverin, Lord of Athione. This is the Lady Julia.”
Ahnao flushed, and quickly curtsied. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know.”
“There’s no reason you should.”
“Will you help us? Jihan’s da will kill him if you send us away.”
Keverin cocked his head, intrigued to hear that. “Of course you can stay. Both of you can. Come Lady, stand here with me and explain how you came to my gate. Lady Julia will attend your friend.”
“Oh please! Call a healer if you won’t call one of your wizards.”
“You misunderstand. Lady Julia is a healer, and a mage.”
Ahnao lowered her eyes. “Yes m’lord, if yer says,” she said doubtfully, and began her story.
Julia listened to the girl while attending to her patient.
Jihan had two infected arrow wounds, and a long cut on his leg. The wound in his upper arm was the most serious, but she’d seen worse too many times. She went to work and by the time Ahnao had finished her story, Jihan had begun to rouse.
She stumbled tiredly across the room, and sat in a chair to rest for a few minutes. She watched colours bursting before her eyes, and thought fondly of her bed. It felt as if she’d just finished a day of training in the gym. Was it because she drew too much magic too often, or was she doing something wrong? Drawing deeply worked best. Her patients always healed faster, and recovered quicker when she used more magic, and that was a fact not a guess. She’d had many chances to experiment—too many.
Her shoulder twinged and she rubbed it where the arrow had struck. It ached on cold days. It had healed well, but her peak of fitness, attained over many years of hard work, was losing way to poor eating and little sleep. Bad dreams kept her from sleeping deeply, and her appetite had waned since she’d learned how to use magic. She had to force herself to eat most days. If not for Mathius, she would miss more meals than she did. She was losing muscle, and her weight had dropped because of that, but what else could she do? She had to help where she could.
Jihan tried to sit up.
Ahnao’s face lit with happiness, but when he noticed her standing there, she scowled at him. “So yer awake then,” she said, sounding disinterested. “Typical of you, running off and leaving me in a stranger’s hands.”
“It wasn’t like that!” Jihan spluttered.
Mathius exchanged a smirking grin with Julia.
“Lord Jihan, may I present Lady Julia and the mage Mathius?” Keverin said.
“Honoured,” Jihan said inclining his head to all present. “I thank you my lord. I’m in your debt.”
“You are most welcome here, Lord Jihan. There’s no debt between us.”
“I claim no title, my lord. My father is a traitor. I’ll take nothing from him.”
Keverin cocked an eyebrow. “Indeed? Ahnao was kind enough to tell us her story. Would you grace us with yours?”
“Not too long ago,” Jihan began. “We had a visitor at Malcor. The first time my father met with him alone, but it was obvious what the man was, if not exactly who.”
“How was it obvious?”
“He wore his black robe as bold as you please.”
Keverin stiffened and turned reflexively toward Julia, a look of betrayal upon his face. She bit her lip, wanting to reach out to him, but his expression changed again, as if a mask had closed over his features. He was being the Lord Protector again.
Blank faced now, he turned back to Jihan. “What did he want?”
“I have no clue for the first meeting, my lord, but he conveyed an offer from Mortain at the second. My father has been conspiring with the chancellor for years—”
“This I know. What of the offer from the sorcerers?”
“Let him tell it, Kev,” she said quietly.
“Lady Julia, if you’ll leave matters that do not concern you to me, I would be grateful.”
“Would you like me to leave?”
“That might be best.”
“Sorry, can’t do that,” she said sweetly. “Jihan might need me.”
“I feel fine—”
She glared and interrupted. “I’m the healer, not you. I’m staying! You were saying, about the offer?”
“Yes, the offer,” Jihan said, looking puzzled at her insistence upon staying. “On certain conditions, my father would be given Deva to rule as a province of the Protectorate. Refraining from aiding Athione was the first condition. ”
Hisses of shock went around the room.
Jihan nodded grimly. “The second was to allow a legion through the northern border to attack you here.”
“How could he do it?” Mathius whispered in horror. “His honour—”
“My father is evil! He hounded my mother and beat her—she threw herself from the battlement to escape him! He orders the men to attack me in the dark of
night, and my tutors—”
She listened to all manner of vileness that Athlone had committed. She was horrified when Jihan spoke of his mother’s betrayal and eventual suicide, and felt for the boy he’d been, as his father systematically brutalised him. He finally wound down into silence, and all eyes turned to Keverin for a response.
“I must take council with Purcell and Gylaren,” Keverin said. “We could be under attack from the east as well as the west very soon.”
“I would offer you my skills for the defence,” Jihan said. “If you’ll allow it, I will join your guardsmen.”
“How good are you?”
“I wouldn’t wish to seem immodest, my lord, but I can best any at Malcor—including my father.”
“That good?” Keverin said, sounding amused. “You and I will spar after you’ve rested. If you beat me two out of three, I’ll take your oath as a captain in my guard.”
“Very well.”
“Do you want to know what I want if you lose?”
Jihan smiled grimly. “I never lose.”
Julia ignored the by-play. She was thinking about what she’d said the day she killed Renard. It seemed fate had called her bluff. She stood to leave with Mathius as escort, and Keverin followed her out.
“You idiot!” Ahnao growled as they left. “Lady Julia healed the mess you made of yourself last time, and then you accept a challenge from Lord Keverin! Are you daft?”
“Now Ahnao please, it isn’t like that—”
The door closed and cut off Jihan’s plea.
“I need to have a few words with your lord. Can I meet you later?” she said.
“Of course,” Mathius said. He inclined his head politely, and strode away.
Keverin offered his arm to take, but she shook her head and settled to walking by his side. He wasn’t happy, but she was way beyond worrying about him. Moriz and Halbert followed them a few paces back to give them privacy.
She navigated the maze of corridors, thinking of ways to prevent the deaths of any more of her friends. She’d given up fighting against people’s expectations the day she’d killed Renard. How she wished there were a way out, but there wasn’t one. Even if she had managed to heal Renard, he wouldn’t have been able to send her home. He’d admitted as much when they first met. No, there was no way out, not while they remained under siege.
Her last hope of returning home was retracing Darius’ steps. Somewhere on his way to die at Athione, he’d learned the secret of constructing gates. She would have to do the same, but she couldn’t do that until Kev won his war. She would give him victory, and in exchange, he would give her a horse, supplies… hell, even an escort to Tanjung if that’s what she needed to find her way home; she would insist. It was a mercenary justification for murder, and she should feel guilty, but she wanted to go home. Justifying murder was becoming easier as time went on, and her conscience didn’t chastise her for it.
“I’ll use my magic to rid you of the legion in the pass,” she said, staring straight ahead, not wanting to see his look of triumph. “But I want something in return.”
“Go on,” he said warily.
“I need to know how Darius learned the gate spell. I’ll need a horse and supplies, and an escort to Tanjung. Mathius says there are mages there.”
The silence drew out, but finally he said, “He’s right. They serve Vexin—the emperor—and have a school in Tanjor.”
“I’ll need help getting there after I deal with the problem in the pass.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure I want to go home. I’m sure I don’t want more of our people to die, and they won’t as long as I can prevent it. I’ll limit the deaths to the sorcerers if I can. With them gone we’re safe. You agree?”
He nodded. “The Gap is defensible. Without magic, they have no way to cross.”
“A bridge?” she said, because he expected it.
“I’d burn it.”
She nodded.
“What will you need?”
“Time mostly, but I don’t have it. Do I?”
“No,” he agreed.
“All I need is Mathius if he’s willing. I still can’t make wards, and without one, they’ll kill me before I can get them all.”
“That makes sense.”
They parted company, and she went in search of Mathius. As she made her way to the library, she listened to Moriz speculating about the tournament, and whether to bother training for it.
“You’ll need another ten years practise to best me in the ring,” Halbert said.
Moriz spluttered indignantly.
Julia grinned. “Are you both boxers?”
“Yes Lady, but everyone does a little boxing,” Halbert said.
“She doesn’t mean brawling, dimwit! She means like the tournament!” Moriz said.
“Don’t you dimwit me, dung face! I’ll lay you out on the cobbles if you don’t shut yer hole.”
She chuckled under her breath. Halbert made no move to make good on the threat. They were only playing, and often made her laugh with their snark.
Mathius wasn’t in the library when they checked. He was standing like a statue behind the barricade, frowning at the broken walls and the Gap beyond.
“Mathius? I need your help again.”
He nodded. “I was just wondering what all those men down there are thinking about.”
She didn’t want to know what they were thinking. She would be killing them soon, and her nightmares were bad enough already.
“You have to be my magic teacher again.”
Mathius grinned. “I don’t know how magical I’ll be, but I’ll try to teach you.”
“I need mind-speech, wards, fire balls, and anything else you can think of that will kill.”
That wiped the smile off his face. “How many years have you got?”
She winced. Keverin would tell her that a day was too long, but there were limits to how quickly she could learn anything. At the very least, she needed a ward to stand a chance.
“Two days,” she said firmly, knowing it wasn’t long enough, but also knowing there wasn’t any more time to be had.
“Not possible. It can’t be done. No way!” he cried. “Be reasonable!”
“We have to make it happen, Mathius. Come with me to the library and I’ll explain.”
On the way, she explained her decision, and from there the conversation drifted to Jihan’s story.
“I can’t believe any lord would stoop so low,” Mathius said. “How can he bear the dishonour?”
“I don’t know anything about honour,” she said. “But I do feel sorry for Jihan.”
Mathius nodded glumly. “Although he’s not to blame, the dishonour stains him.”
“I didn’t mean that. I meant the beatings.”
“That’s nothing.”
“How can you say that? His father used his guardsmen to attack him. They hounded him through the fortress. His mother killed herself!”
“All good fathers are strict.”
“Mine wasn’t. He was wonderful,” she said wistfully as she remembered him. “He would never have hurt me.”
“If he was wonderful, I’m happy for you, Julia, but you must realise that discipline is important. Its lack can lead to death and worse.”
“What could be worse than death?”
“Dishonour is worse,” Mathius said firmly. “In my case burnout and dishonour are about equal.”
“You can’t mean that! You mean to say that you would rather lose your magic than be dishonoured?”
“No...” he said thoughtfully. “I would rather not do either, but having the choice, I would rather die.”
Moriz and Halbert murmured their agreement. “No true man would let dishonour stain him lady,” Moriz said.
“The God would turn his face from him,” Halbert added.
“No,” Mathius said firmly. “The God would never do that to anyo
ne, but he would send you back. Dishonour stains the soul. A dishonourable man could never abide the God’s majesty.”
The three men circled their hearts. They were as one in their faith and belief, and seeing them express it made her feel like a stranger again. She hadn’t been to church since before her parents died, and watching them, made her miss it more than ever.
Moriz and Halbert silently took their places either side of the library’s entrance, and Julia stepped inside.
Use me, and know your destiny.
Every time she came here, the library seemed to whisper something different. She knew it was her subconscious, but it always made her stop and think when she heard its latest pronouncement. What was it trying to tell her this time?
Mathius headed for the stacks. “I’ll choose some books for you to read, and we can go over them together.”
She nodded. “That’s fine, but wards first and then mind-speech. I can always use my lightning. I don’t really need anything else.”
Or want anything else, if the truth were known.
* * *
36 ~ Captain
The armoury was a large hall on the ground floor of the sprawling fortress, where generations of Athione defenders had spent their days practising their skills. There were no frills, just racks of swords, pikes, daggers, and armour. There were even a few lances standing in a neat row that had escaped destruction when they became unfashionable. Their brothers were burned as firewood years ago, when Deva’s lords gave up open field battles in favour of other tactics.
Keverin watched Jihan investigate the armoury’s contents, and wondered if he was as good as he thought he was. Confidence was good, but overconfidence in an Athione captain could be disastrous, especially in unsettled times like these.
Jihan patted the lance fondly. “I wasn’t happy when they forced me to learn how to handle one of these monsters.”
“You know the lance?”
“My instructors were most insistent. If you follow me?”
He nodded. They would have put him in the lists, and used him as a target. That kind of brutal training could have led to broken bones or worse, but it also forced a man to learn quickly. Accuracy with a lance while mounted upon a charging warhorse, was a hard skill to master. No one seriously considered lance-work worth the training time any more. With a hundred man patrols the new standard, they would never be used. That his instructors had made the time, spoke of brutality for the sake of it, not for any skill they intended to impart.
