Theus’s eyes opened at the sound of the two familiar – and relatively friendly – names.
“I’ll talk to them,” he said. There could be a safe way to do it. “Give the two officers a pass and an escort and bring them here. I’ll talk to them here, as soon as they can arrive. He threw off his covers and struggled to sit up, then realized that he was undressed beneath the cover while he sat with Coriae.
She smiled at him, pressed him back down into his bedding, then lifted the cover back over him.
“I’ve seen you before, mister shy magician, don’t worry,” she tried to humorously put his modesty at ease. “Stay here. I’ll go tell father’s council your suggestion. It won’t happen immediately, but they’ll get it started. You stay here. You will stay here, won’t you?” she asked.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Theus replied. “Not until I get some clothes, at least,” he smiled.
“I may just try to keep you here for a long time,” Coriae reached over and stroked his forehead tenderly, then rose and left.
She was gone for minutes. Theus closed his eyes and rested, then opened them and looked around at the room. He had been so happy during the days he had stayed in the room in the mansion, in the aftermath of helping to set Forgon free through his trial in Stoke. He had been on the verge of a public announcement of an engagement to Coriae, he had been accepted by the nobility, and he’d been unaware of so much that was happening in the world, or was fated to happen.
He needed to focus on the present, he told himself. He needed to focus on the war and the battle and the facts that were shaping his life presently. He needed to know about Donal and Southsands and Montuse and Altamice. But his mind kept thinking about Coriae.
He had studied her as she sat with him. He had watched her lips move and her eyes shift while she spoke. He had watched her fingers gently stroke the long tresses of her dark hair away from her cheeks when it distracted her.
She had been so gentle with him. He saw no signs of lingering resentment or hatred or anger towards him. He felt rising hopes, hopes that once the needs of the immediate crisis were passed, he’d be able to talk to her as just a friend, and then perhaps as more than a friend once again. It seemed possible; it had to be possible. So many other impossible things had come to pass that it seemed like a relatively easy certainty for the two ill-fated lovers to repair their relationship.
The door opened, and Coriae re-entered, carrying a small tray. She set the tray down on the table beside his bed.
“This is your medicine. Don’t raise a fuss; let me apply it to your wounds and I’ll tell you what I’ve learned,” she spoke in a no-nonsense tone.
He nodded his assent.
“Okay,” she flipped the cover off him in a no-nonsense manner, and spoke in a businesslike fashion. Her fingers dipped into a bowl on the platter and then began to rub the liniment into the wound on his shoulder.
“Father agreed to send the message to the Southsand forces. We should receive them here, if they agree, before noon,” Coriae told him.
“What time is it now?” Theus asked.
“It’s early in the morning; why you always have to be an early riser is beyond me,” she spoke with mock exasperation. “So we’ll expect that you’ve got a couple of hours before the emissaries arrive from Southsand.”
“I know them,” Theus spoke up. Her fingers were no longer truly applying the medicine on his wound; she was massaging the muscles of his shoulder and upper arm, and it felt relaxing. “I use to practice swords with them, when I was a slave in the Southsand palace.
“They’re good men. I trust them to tell me the truth, if they come, if they can come,” he said wondering what the dynamics were within the Southsand camp as Donal was awake, or dead, or unconscious.
“Where’s Forgon?” he asked abruptly, then suddenly regretted springing the question upon her. The absence of Coriae’s beloved brother might be explained by some tragic occurrence during battle. He felt his throat constrict at the thought of his friend dying to protect Great Forks.
He saw a strange expression cross Coriae’s face.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said. He lifted his left hand and grasped her hand as she massaged his right shoulder, then he squeezed her hand to comfort her and share her grief.
“No, no, it’s not that,” she said quickly, while her hand twisted to press her palm against his, and she returned his squeeze.
“He, Forgon, wasn’t here when the battle started yesterday morning. He was still in Stoke,” she stuttered and paused. “He, he hasn’t been coming back to Great Forks with me in recent weeks; I’ve been traveling back and forth on my own. He, he met a girl in Stoke, and he’s absolutely infatuated with her.
“But,” Coriae paused, seemingly stumped about what to say. “But I’m sure he will put an end to it.
“We sent a note to him already this morning, telling him there’s been a battle, but it’s over and we’re all safe. You know he’ll come galloping back down here,” she turned breezier in her tone. “You and I both know what that ride is like! He’ll be here in three days, four at the most.
“You’ll still be here then, won’t you? Of course you will,” she asserted, and urged.
“The girl he’s so entranced with Theus, it’s your princess, Amelia,” she told him carefully, then paused and tried to assess his reaction.
Theus looked at her with an expression of incomprehension.
“He met your princess when he went to Stoke, not long after,” she faltered, “after you and I had broken up. He stopped at Duchess Holstem’s estate and met her.
“I wasn’t with him, I only heard the story later. I was up in,” she faltered again, “Thuro,” she let out a deep breath.
She was unsettled, and starting to ramble, Theus thought. She was nervous. They’d just come through a deadly battle hours before, which would explain her scattered thoughts.
“Forgon is okay then?” he asked. “And he’s met Amelia?” his own mind was distracted. He hadn’t given much thought to the lovely princess since he’d taken her to her haven with the Duchess. Forgon would be a good friend to Amelia. Yet Coriae was implying something more than a friend for the princess who was younger than she appeared. Theus would discuss Amelia’s unique condition with Forgon, who he knew would appreciate and understand his concerns.
“I’ll look forward to talking to your brother about Amelia,” Theus told Coriae, who was studying him, looking for a response.
“He didn’t know where you were. Amelia didn’t know either. No one knew if you’d ever return. I’m sure that he’ll step out of the way if you and Amelia desire to rekindle your romance with each other.”
“Oh! Oh, oh, that’s what you mean,” Theus was growing more alert, and he smiled as he deciphered her nervousness
“Let me put this medicine on your thigh,” Coriae suddenly looked away from him and dipped her fingers in the healing ointment.
“Amelia and I aren’t in love. We’re just acquaintances, friends I guess. I had to rescue her from Donal, the black magician. That’s why I left you, I mean here,” Theus was stumbling suddenly. “I came to your room that night to learn the white magic; did Glory return the stone to you?” he asked. “You know it’s the only reason I left you.”
“That apprentice girl? She is such a sweet girl. She didn’t know if you’d ever return either. She said you had given her family money, in a way that seemed like it was a, parting gift,” Coriae said. “Oh Theus, we really thought you had left forever! And I’m so sorry for acting the way I did,” the girl began to cry, as she softly applied ointment to the stabbing wound on his leg.
“I’m so stupid sometimes. I know I don’t control my temper very well,” she told him, as she held one hand to her face.
“Coriae, don’t cry. You’re full of life, and that’s what I love about you,” he tried to calm her.
She looked at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she began, before there was a knock at the
door.
Coriae hastily pulled the sheet up over Theus and moved her chair away from the edge of the bed.
“Come in,” she called.
Lorinse, the household steward pressed the door open. “I’m so glad to see you awake, my lord,” he said, looking at Theus. “We’re all in a state of utmost gratitude to you; words cannot express. Is there anything we can do for the two of you? The staff, especially the kitchen staff, wanted to know. They’re most anxious to make sure you’re being treated well.
“I apologize for interrupting,” he added, with a nod towards Coriae.
“I am a bit hungry,” Theus spoke as he realized. “Anything you bring would be appreciated.”
“Certainly, my lord. And my lady, I’ll send something up for you as well, and a maid to provide a chaperone,” Lorinse told Coriae.
The girl blushed profusely, making her honey brown complexion even darker.
“Of course Lorinse, now that Theus is awake, that’s appropriate. Thank you.
“And I’m so sorry for not asking if you wanted anything to eat,” she told Theus as Lorinse closed the door.
She pulled her chair back to the bedside, and began to massage the healing cream into Theus’s leg, as they both sat silent for a moment.
“Theus, there are so many mysteries about you – the rumors from the Greenfalls soldiers are beyond belief! Can you tell me the truth of what you’ve done?” she asked as she shifted her gaze from his leg to his face, and stared intently.
Her hands drifted to his good arm, and stroked it. “These cuffs on your arms are beautiful,” she spoke of Limber’s gift to him.
He closed his eyes and gave a wistful smile.
“How much time do you have?” he asked.
“Until your Southsand officers arrive, and even after, Theus,” the girl said softly. “I’ll make time to hear your story.”
And so he began. “I used to hear a voice talk to me, but I didn’t think anyone would believe me,” his story started.
Ten minutes later there was a knock at the door. Coriae moved her seat back once again and covered Theus once again, then bade the door open, and a maid brought in a tray of food. Theus recognized the girl, though he did not know her name, while she curtseyed, then set the tray down, and placed a plate of food beside him.
“Are there any of Theus’s former clothes left?” Coriae asked the girl before she could sit down in her chaperone role.
“You ordered that we burn them all,” the girl began to say.
“Yes, yes, I know, but would you go see if there are any, or any clean clothes the approximate same size, or anything of Forgon’s that will do?” Coriae quickly cut the girl off, and sent her out of the room.
“You burned my clothes?” Theus asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh stop it! You would have done the same in my place,” she dismissed his comment, blushing once again. “Continue with your story,” she ordered, as she plucked a piece of fruit from his plate.
He recited the broad outlines of his incredible journey, and was just up to his departure from Limber when Coriae interrupted.
“The god made your sister the queen?” she asked in astonishment. “Why aren’t you the king?”
“You can ask Limber, if you want to question a god,” Theus answered calmly. “I’m a marshal, and either marshal or king, it doesn’t matter, they’re better titles than indentured servant, or apprentice, or slave,” he pointed out. “And the gods don’t seem to want to allow me to live in peace in one place anyway.”
There was another knock on the door, and the maid entered before Coriae could move her chair back from the intimate proximity to the bed that she seemed to crave so much. She hastily removed her hand from where it had rested on Theus’s chest, as though she had touched a hot stove top.
“I’ve found these clothes that were in the room my lord previously had in the servants’ wing,” the girl said, and gave Theus a winsome smile.
“I’ll take them. Please excuse us while we dress Marshal Theus for his meeting,” Coriae shooed the girl out of the room again.
“Tell me the rest,” she commanded Theus as she knelt to help him put his pants on. He found that he had grown inured to letting her see him without clothes, while he was a patient in the bed, but as soon as it became a matter of getting dressed, he felt differently.
“Turn your head,” he said primly.
“Oh Theus, this is ridiculous,” she said. “Just step in here and pull them up.”
“It’s different now,” he insisted. “Turn your head, and I’ll tell you the rest. There’s not that much more,” he told her.
“Fine,” she relented. “But you’ll pay for your stubbornness the next time we match staves, be sure!” she told him as she looked away and shut her eyes.
Theus continued the story as he dressed with difficulty (his shoulder wound remained painful), and brought it up to date when he finished with the arrival of the Southsand forces at Great Forks. He finished just as the maid knocked one more time.
“The military gentlemen are here. His lordship is requested to come down, if he’s able, which I don’t know if he is, since I haven’t seen him all morning,” the maid spoke in a critical tone.
“I’ll walk him down, Staecie,” Coriae dismissed the girl one more time, then acted as Theus’s human crutch, his arm thrown over her shoulder as she led him down the grand staircase of the Warrell mansion, to a round of polite applause from the small assembly of faces that looked up at him from the entry hall.
He saw Lord Warrell, and he saw Alamice, one of the Southsand officers he had fenced with, as well as Montuse, another officer. They were the two who had been most engaged with him, and practiced with him the most. There were other officers and leaders from Great Forks, none of whom Theus knew.
“Lord Theus, we’d accept wounds in battle too, if we were given such attractive opportunities for assistance,” Montuse spoke first, as Theus reached the floor and Coriae reluctantly disengaged from his arm. A young officer in a military uniform stepped forward and handed Theus his own staff. Theus felt a warm happiness spread throughout him at the sight of the familiar weapon that had traveled so far with him, and seen so much action.
Theus used the staff to support himself as he awkwardly went around the room, shaking hands with everyone present, until he completed the circle and came around to Lord Warrell and Coriae, who were the last two. Lord Warrell greeted him with warm words and an extended handshake, while Coriae gave him only a brief, demur smile, a momentary curtsey, and nothing more.
“Is there a place we can sit down to talk?” Theus asked the lord of the mansion. His leg was hurting. The leg actually hurt less than the wound in his shoulder, he realized, but both were uncomfortable.
“We’ll go to the dining room, if that’s acceptable? It’s large enough to seat several parties,” Warrell replied.
Theus looked around at the people who stood in the entry hall. “That’s fine with me. I know that the Southsand officers and you and I will fit. The others can join us as they choose. Will there be anyone from Greenfalls in the talks?” he asked.
“We thought you’d represent them,” an officer from Great Forks spoke confidently. “You fought as one of them.”
“Actually, I fought under the other flag, the flag of Limber,” Theus replied.
“Limber!” the exclamations of astonishment rose from Great Forks leaders as well as from the two Southsand officers.
“You fought as a warrior from Limber?” Montuse asked in astonishment.
“I did. Let’s go be seated, and talk,” Theus urged. He wished he had asked Coriae to produce a different healing lotion, one that would have done more to help with pain relief, though less to do with healing the wound.
“Let me help you,” Coriae said in a quiet voice, and she shifted herself under Theus’s arm once again, then helped him proceed to the dining room.
When everyone was seated, the head of the Great Forks leadership spoke.
“Limber doesn’t exist my lord, though it’s inspiring to call upon its legend,” the man said.
“Limber has arisen, both the great god of the mountains, and the lost city of the mountains. “I’ve been there twice now, and my own sister has been named queen of the city by the god himself,” Theus tried to speak in a deep, serious voice.
“Theus, you’re a prophecy come to life!” Montuse said excitedly, as soon as Theus finished. “Donal told us on two separate occasions that prophecies said that Southsands’ armies could not lose to any army but Limber’s, an old city was dead. He even sent a squad of his own best magicians to take possession of some ancient weapon, to protect his power.”
“I know,” Theus said. “I met them in his temple in the city. They’re all dead.”
Montuse turned pale.
“Do you come to seek terms of surrender?” Lord Warrell asked after seconds of unnerved silence.
Coriae was sitting quietly in the room behind her father, Theus belatedly realized. She had slid down to sit on the floor, visible only to those who made a determined point to look. She gave Theus a serious, small smile as their eyes locked momentarily.
“What does Donal say about the proposal to surrender? Will he honor a peaceful surrender?” Theus asked.
Alamice spoke for the two officers. “He is no longer with us.”
“Donal is dead?” Theus asked in astonishment. The others in the room murmured.
“We don’t think so,” Alamice said. “Your battle with him left him unconscious, and we carried him away from the scene of the battle. When he awoke he was in great pain, and very angry. We tried to stay away from him in that mood.
“When we went back to his tent a few minutes later, he was gone. No one knows where or how,” Alamice related.
“We are on our own without him to lead us. We knew we had seen you in battle with him, and we knew you were an honorable man, so we asked to parlay with you,” Montuse assumed the position of speaker.
Unpredictable Fortunes (The Memory Stone Series Book 3) Page 29
