"Well, it worked," she pointed out. "I’m home." Mesiande gave a flippant toss of her braid as she turned away from him to walk to the edge of the water.
"Mesi, please forgive me. I meant not a word," he begged in a soft whisper as he stepped as close as he dared to her.
Mesiande's answering growl was also a low murmur though he could hear her sheer displeasure at the man behind her. "And why should I?"
"First, you are my best friend." Alador began. "Second, there is no one I would rather bond..." He cleared his throat having slipped into Lerdenian ways of speaking. "Housemate with than you." He touched her shoulder and though she stiffened, she did not pull away. He slowly turned her towards him. "Lastly, if not for me, our people need your help, and you and Dorien are the only ones I trust to aid me." Her eyes came up to meet his at the last.
"What do you mean?" Mesiande's eyes narrowed as she tipped her head a bit to the right to look up at him.
He let out held tension with a sigh as her question indicated the thawing of her displeasure. "The matter is worse than I first told you. Luthian means to starve the Daezun into submission. I came with a plan which Dorien helped me refine, but he is going to need your help to convince the elders. With you, Henrick, and Dorien, I believe you can do it." He would take the third route closer to her if it were all she would give to him. He knew Mesiande, once she started talking to him, the rest would cool over time.
"A plan?" She looked at him curiously. "What plan could stand against the magic that you spoke of in Silverport?" She wandered over to the fire and plopped down. She straightened her skirts as she looked over at him.
Alador grinned. "That is where the convincing is going to come into play." He slipped to the ground beside her, being careful to respect her space before he continued.
"After you left, I went to speak with a red dragon. Actually, the one that burned our village.” Mesiande began to speak, but he held a hand up indicating it was a long story. “First of all, he will be providing meat to the villages as he can to make up for the damage he caused. However, he can arrange for a bronze dragon to come and open a cavern at each village. A place away from the freezing cold where food can be stored and in the extremes of cold and snow that Luthian will bring, the villages can take refuge." He paused seeing her eyes widen.
"Spoke? You spoke with a dragon?" Her clear disbelief made him smile.
"Yes, I find them rather arrogant and pompous, but as intelligent and resourceful as any of the old tales. It took some convincing, but..." Alador frowned when it came to him that Keensight had already decided to help as Henrick had arranged their meeting. Since Henrick was Keensight, the matter had been nothing but showmanship on the dragon's part. He would have to speak to the man about that later. Realizing that he had not finished his sentence by the way she was watching him, he continued. "But the dragons are going to help."
Mesiande was now enthralled, her anger nowhere evident as she leaned forward. "And ... Dragons are said to do no favor without an exchange of favor returned.” She paused for a moment. “Are you still going to take out the mine as you spoke of before, is that the price you will pay?"
Alador nodded. "If I do not take out the Bloodmine, it is doubtful that we will get any help from more than the red dragon, Keensight, or any dragon for that matter. I have to complete that before I can turn my attention to saving our people from Luthian's need to control all of the Great Isle." Their eyes locked and Alador could not help staring into those big brown eyes. He missed her so much.
"What is it that you need me to do with Dorien?" She picked up a stick and spun it in her fingers, before absently stripping the leaves from it one at a time. Alador was still blankly staring at her. When he did not answer, she glanced up and blushed. She punched him in the arm lightly. “You didn’t answer me.”
Alador started and grinned. “Sorry, I forgot how beautiful you were.” He liked that he could make her blush. Despite the distractions of being next to her, he continued. "The elders will need convincing that this storm is coming. They need to start conserving now. Luthian does not intend to let the next crops grow. My thought is to plant an early false crop, not too much effort but enough to make it seem a valid planting. Once that crop has mildewed and faltered, plant a second crop. It will have a lower yield, but if we plant the first early enough at every village, the second should have time gain ground before he finds out the ruse." Alador stared off at the water. "Also, the crops will not be able to be in sight of the trade lines. He uses the traders as spies with or without their knowledge."
"So by creating these caves, we have storage and shelter." Mesiande began to calculate as she followed his train of thought. "With us storing away everything we can, the traders will be reporting that less is coming out of the villages which will make it appear that the man's plan is working. Right?" She paused as she looked over at him.
Alador gave an answering grin. Mesiande had such a quick mind, it was one of the things he valued about her. "Yes, but it will have to be an orchestrated effort with almost every village north of here. If they don't all work together the plan won't work." He glanced over at her. "You and Dorien are going to have to be convincing. The villages have not united since the last war."
Mesiande was quiet for a moment, and Alador let her think. "What is to stop the weather from continuing? If this is the man's desire, he is not going to stop just because we thwarted him a winter or two."
Alador sobered at that thought. He knew that Luthian would not stop until he had everything he desired. Power meant more to him than anything. It was one reason that he could never let the older mage find the black spell book. He shook his head from the distracting thoughts and answered her in a low murmur. "I am going to kill him." He did not look at Mesiande. He knew her thoughts about such acts. Mesiande was one who preferred peaceful solutions.
"I see." Her words were hollow.
He cringed at her delayed answer. It was everything that he had expected, and yet it still cut to hear the tone she used. He reached over to take her hand; when she did not resist, his thumb caressed her palm gently.
"It is the only way Mesiande. There is no reasoning with him. He kills and hurts those that get in his way. He is quick on his feet and highly intelligent." Alador squeezed her hand, attempting to reassure them both. "Add to that the power that he wields both in magic and in politics of the city and he will be no easy man to remove." She put her other hand over his and leaned in closer. His heart quickened at the mere scent of her, and the reassurance of her touch.
"How are you going to gain that much power?" She sounded genuinely concerned. "You are so much younger than he is." She searched his face, a soft frown on her own.
"I have the advantage of a dragon willing to educate me without the need to rely on finding an old spell book." He paused. “Though Henrick has provided some access to such tomes as well.” He still had not decided the final fate of the black spellbook of his ancestor. "But, I think the best way to kill him will be without magic at all." Alador admitted. "A well-timed arrow may be far more effective than a spell. He is constantly prepared to defend himself against magic, poisons, and other usual methods used within the Lerdenian people."
"Why does this all have to be you?” She squeezed his hand between her own. “Can't someone else take up this cause?" She frowned as she slowly let go of his hand. "Shouldn’t the elders decide how to end this terrible mage?"
"Mesi, the last war lasted far too long with no clear winner. Our people will not be able to fight a prolonged war against mages. Especially since the Lerdenians have learned from the last war, and have created a unique set of soldiers that can wield both sword and spell." He ought to know as he was one of them he thought before he continued. "Many of those in his elite unit have an axe to grind against our people due to the way they were treated for being half-breeds." He ran a hand his other hand over where hers had been moments before. "I can get close to him due to the fact we are kin. He still hopes to use
me to help him against our people."
"Use you how?" She asked, her look had a cautious edge. She pushed a twig into the fire before looking back at him expectantly.
He met her eyes with a solemn expression. "It is best you do not know," he quietly answered. He held her gaze, hoping she would leave it at that. He did not dare tell any Daezun his part in Luthian's plan. He did not know if he would be able to forgive himself, let alone gain the forgiveness of his people.
Alador was surprised when Mesiande did not press the issue. Usually her curiosity was an unrelenting force of persuasion. Instead she just nodded and they both sat quietly for a few moments. Alador did not want to break the uneasy silence. He was certain that whatever forgiveness he had gained here, it was fragile at best.
"I wish it wasn't you." She sadly offered. "I wish you had never found that blasted stone." She angrily tossed another twig into the small blaze.
"I wish that as well." Alador watched as she tossed the twig into the fire. He could not fault her frustration as he shared it. "My Lerdenian kin did this. It was my kin that broke the pact. Somehow, I feel like I was destined to be the one to fix it."
"What if you are caught playing both sides? What if your uncle figures it out?" She pressed. "What will you do then?" She glanced up at him, genuine fear for him was written on her face.
He did not have much of an answer for her. He took a deep breath before answering. "I hope when that happens, I will be strong enough to defend myself," he offered.
"I don't want you to die," she said sadly. Her voice and eyes flashed with a sudden surge of passion. "You have to promise me not to get yourself killed."
He chuckled before looking at his boots. "You know I can't promise that.” He glanced back at her as he put a hand on her leg. “I can promise that living is very important to me." He gave her a teasing grin. "I still want to come to your circle."
He noted the immediate rise of her chin and the scrunching of her nose. "Don't think I am not still mad at you." She stated with indignation.
"It doesn't change what I want, Mesi." Alador slid his hand over to take her hand. "Maybe in time you will change your mind," he breathed out, an edge of hope in his words. “I seem to remember you liked my kisses.” He kissed her hand as he glanced over her knuckles.
She tossed her head; her braid nearly hit him. "Maybe, but not today.” She did not pull her hand loose, and he noted a flush of color to her cheeks. “However, I will help Dorien because, though I am mad at you..." Her chin came up with a bit of emphasis on the word mad. "I know you would not lie about such things."
It was more than he had dared to hope. He nodded as he rose to his feet, pulling her with him. "I need to return before I am missed." He smoothed a hair from her face. "Dorien is expecting you to visit if you agree. He said that the less I knew of your plans the better it would be in case I somehow fall under Luthian's sway."
Mesiande shuddered. "I don't want to see you leave. It is ... unsettling." She turned to head out of the small cove, and his eyes followed her as she moved. She turned back to look at him. "I mean it.” She wagged her finger at him. “Don't you go dying on me." With that, she stomped into the brush and out of sight.
Alador smiled. By that mere statement, he knew that eventually she would relent. Mesiande could be stubborn, but once she gave in a little, she had always softened the rest of the way over time It was not the first time that he had made her spitting mad at him. His smile faltered. However, his harsh words on that dock in the trenches had been the worst thing he had ever done. It was still possible that he had gone too far to earn her favor enough to be chosen in her circle.
He smothered the fire as his thoughts replayed the last half of an hour. Only time would tell, and unfortunately there was not enough of that to go around. He activated the amulet to return to the caverns. He had been given leeway, but he still needed to be careful. If he was gone too long, someone would eventually check his cell; an empty room and bed would be extremely difficult to explain.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alador had returned to the caverns after leaving Mesiande as he had to put in an appearance for his guards outside his door. He manifested in his room and looked around swiftly. Everything was as he left it. He let out a deeply held breath to release the tension and headed for the door.
He nodded to the guard and headed out of the room to be escorted to the food hall to fetch a tray. It was the only time that he was allowed out. A silence preceded him as he moved down the halls and into the mostly empty food hall. He knew that his disappearance had been spoken about a great deal. He could hear audible whispers of the new High Master's power, Alador's own, and even a summons from the High Minister. He kept his eyes downcast and his manner solemn to appear appropriately contrite.
He returned to his room with his tray without acknowledging anyone. Alador thanked the guards, they nodded politely as they took their places by the door. When he stepped inside, he found Master Levielle waiting at his desk, a small smirk upon his face as their eyes met. Alador found meeting the man's eyes a bit more uncomfortable. Levielle had those eyes that seemed to miss little.
"You have missed my classes again." The weathered soldier clasped his hands behind him as he stood. "And here I find you feasting in private luxury?" He indicated the tray in Alador’s hands with a nod.
The High Master had said he would be locked down, and Alador had assumed that this meant that he would have no visitors. He had been lucky that Levielle had not been in the room when he had magically appeared.
Alador set his tray down on the desk as the door shut and turned to face his teacher. "I apologize Master Levielle. I earned myself a bit of trouble I fear, and as you can see, I am not allowed to attend classes." As he spoke, the older mage was glancing about his small room as if seeking something.
“Yes, yes.” Levielle looked about. “I have come to see how you are progressing on your studies.”
Much to Alador’s surprise, Levielle shielded the room from those that would listen. He had thought the teacher, as a general in the standing army, would have no skill in spell casting. He stared at the general, his surprise written on his face.
Levielle moved closer to Alador and cleared his throat. His manner was serious, and his voice held an amused edge. "And how are your Daezun kin, may I ask?" His question was so casual that it caught Alador completely off guard.
"I ... excuse me?" Alador sputtered at the question.
"Your Daezun kin, how do they fare?" At the alarmed look on Alador's face, the man simply shook his head. "You really do not excel well at subterfuge, my dear boy." Levielle chuckled. "If you mean to keep those with a discerning eye from being suspicious, you had best pay better attention. You are wearing Daezun garb, there is a leaf in your hair, and the mud on the edge of your boot holds no match to those in the cavern depths." Levielle moved to the chair at the desk and turned it to sit as he eyed Alador up and down. "Shall I repeat my original question or do you have enough information to decide it would be unwise to lie to me further?"
Alador swallowed down his fear and answered in low tones despite the shield. "My kin are well, Master Levielle." The look of genuine concern on Alador's face brought a shake of the head from the teacher.
"Do not fear lad,” He held up a hand as if to stop Alador from speaking further. “I do not plan to speak of your antics to any others." The man indicated that Alador should take a seat on the bed." I had hoped that you would take me up on my offer to have private lessons, but given the new situation it would seem I need to bring them to you."
Alador slowly lowered himself onto the bed. "Why?" He was suspicious of this man's attention. Had Luthian sent him?
"I would think that is obvious. You cannot move to the next level without having completed my course which takes my approval." Levielle smiled. Even in the chair, his posture, although somewhat relaxed seemed at the ready. There was an erect manner about him that one did not miss.
"That is not what I
meant and I suspect you are fully aware of that." Alador put both his hands on his knees; his fingers dug in at his level of concern. "Why do you care enough to give me private lessons?"
"Perhaps the fact that you are astute enough to discern that my interest is unusual, is why I care enough," Levielle offered.
"I am the half-breed by-blow of a Guldalian." Alador's mind was racing with his own assessments. "That leaves me with the following conclusions. Either, you have taken an interest at the request of my uncle, or you want something that you have decided I can provide."
Levielle chuckled as he plucked a hair from his pants and let it fall to the ground. "You missed another possibility."
Alador thought about that for a moment, but could see no other obvious alternative. "And what have I not considered?"
Levielle shook his head with a moment of disappointment. "I am a friend of your father." He paused, letting his words sink in for a moment. "I see something in you worth cultivating. Your father's name would not be enough, I fear, to draw my attention. Although it did not hurt." Levielle looked back up at Alador. "And, on one count you are right. I do want something that I think that you can provide."
"I knew it." Alador breathed out with disappointment. "And what could I possibly afford you that you could not obtain on your own?" Would he ever meet anyone who did not seek something from him?
Levielle shook his head. "A man does not put all his cards on the table. Let me be frank. I do not trust you any more than you trust me. That is how it should be." He rubbed a finger along his nose as if quelling an itch. "A good tactician should give trust sparingly."
Pseudo-Dragon (The Blue Dragon's Geas Book 4) Page 23
