by Lynn Hardy
“You’re on!” the elf proclaims. “And if you can’t convince the majority, then you will introduce me as your teacher in the arts of magic from here on out!”
“Come on, man.” It’s Charles, not Jamison, charging to my defense. “There ain’t no call to bust a move like that.”
“It’s okay, Charles. Allinon, I’ll take your bet as long as you agree to tone down your attitude for the rest of our stay when you lose.”
We reach across the table to shake on it. Crystal bustles into the room, followed by three austere servants. They set the table around us while I concentrate on the necessary rhyming lines to suit my needs.
I smile when the servants place an odd looking fork, shaped more like a spork, next to the knife. We had one of those at dinner last night. They must be predominately used in the noble estates.
Blocking everything out, I begin the enchantment.
“I recall some pictures that we sisters had taken,
Lani and I, for each other are often mistaken.
To remove the twin mystery
I must have them in front of me.”
Power is pulled from me. An explosion of blue goes off like a camera flash, despite the awkward wording. Sitting on my plate, as I imagined, is a stack of photos.
“Ah!” One of the servants hits the floor in a dead faint. Jamison rushes to her, and with a touch of healing magic, she is up in a few seconds.
“Milady Archmage Reba, I apologize for the interruption,” Crystal laments as she escorts the trembling woman from the room. I give what I hope is a reassuring smile.
“Here. Take a look at these while we eat.” I pass the photos across the table to Jerik.
“But we wait until everyone sees them to comment, that way no one is prejudiced by preconceived notions!” Allinon is intent on getting in his two cents.
“Whatever you want… elf.” Like it’ll matter…
I pass on the eggs but take a thick slice of ham. There is also jam, or maybe its preserves, for the bread, and some fruit-filled pastries. Crystal is back before I take my first mouthful.
“Crystal, is she okay?”
I perceive puzzlement as she mumbles, “Yes, milady.”
“It might be a good idea to interview all of the servants.” I recommend what seems to be a logical solution. “If any have an aversion to magical workings, they should be assigned elsewhere.”
“Yes, milady. I will see to it.” She bobs her head, accepting my suggestion as gospel.
It takes mere minutes to clear my heaping plate. Nibbling on a pastry, something like a Danish, light and fluffy with apple filling, I wait for the guys to finish their meals.
“There’s no way these are real.” The elf thumbs through the photos. “You just made them up.” Allinon’s high-pitched snort is almost comical.
“You’ll notice the picture of me in white. Standing beside me is my twin sister, Lani, with her hair put up. Well, that was one of my wedding photos, hence the white dress. The other pictures are ones my sister, Cheryl, took the year before I met my husband.”
Allinon flings the visual biography down on the table as the servants clear the surface of dishes. I arrange the pictures in two lines. I place the five-by-seven glossy of the two of us between the columns.
“We chose our own poses and clothes. If you compare the photos of me with those of her, I think the personality comes through. I’ve always been more sweet and innocent. Sh’s more aggressive and flirtatious.”
“When we were young, one of our friends once said about us, ‘You’re the kind of girl a man looks to marry. She’s the kind you look to date.’ I think these demonstrate the different attitudes unless, that is, you think I’m a split personality.” The guys nod their ascension.
I give a sickening-sweet smile to my adversary. “So you got anything you want to say before we vote?”
“Okay, okay, I know when I’m beat. No need to vote.” His sarcasm grates on my nerves. “Who knew? A twin sister? It seemed like a ploy for attention. Besides, Lani and Rebecca, what kind of names are those for twins?”
“Our names are RaLain and Rebecca. We went by Lani and Becky when we were kids. I changed my name. I started going by Rebecca in college.” My pressed lips narrow into a straight line. My tone takes on an icy sheen. “So, Allinon, you gonna lay off the pessimistic sarcasm for a while?”
The elf shakes his white locks. “My wife complains about the same thing. I guess maybe it’s something I need to work on.”
“Thank you, Allinon.” I acknowledge his confession, not buying his act for a minute. “Now on to business. Does anyone mind if I lead?”
Allinon’s brows draw down as he sneers. “Reba, we decided that yesterday. It isn’t your place to lead. I think…”
The anger building since our arrival explodes inside me. I raise my voice over his. “I think it’s time for a new vote.” From somewhere deep within, words well up and spill forth. “This land has a famous prophecy, something about a new leader coming with flaming hair. Look at my rooms, equal to royalty. Yes, I’m a woman, but have you noticed how everyone here defers to me?” I take a moment to meet the eyes of each member of our party. Putting all my cards on the table, I reveal a royal flush. “Most importantly, who’s your best chance of getting home?”
“Hot Momma, you got my vote,” Charles murmurs melodiously.
“Looks like the position is yours, Reba.” Jamison’s smile stretches from ear to ear.
With my position secure, I forge ahead, informing them of the possible security breach with English revealed as the language of magic. I also let them know about my security system in the dining room and try to relate everything that Crystal told me about etiquette and the prophecy. Jamison is surprised by the strict rules of decorum, but the rest just nod. The servants leave the room as I conclude, “Finding out about this Prophecy of the Flame must be our top priority. It’s a foretelling of our coming and I’ve been made to fit the bill. It’s so popular, even the lower class is familiar with it. I dearly hope what has been filtered down to them is, at the very least, inaccurate.”
Charles gives a low whistle, ducking his head.
“You said it. Unfortunately the treatment I’ve received seems to indicate the nobility is under the same impression as the staff. Did you notice that Prince Szames seated me before himself?”
Reflexively my hand slaps down on the table. “I have a husband, and I will make it back home! I have no intention of ruling anyone!”
The men around me are shocked into silence by the emotional outburst. I pause, sipping tea while I regain my composure. “We need to find out what this prophecy says word for word. They must be assuming a meaning, like they assumed I’d be a man.”
The elf harrumphs. “And how do you suppose we do that? Ask to see what must be one of their most sacred documents?” I shoot Allinon a dirty look as his pessimism reasserts itself. He gives me a sheepish shrug.
“Charles, maybe you can use some of your charisma to dig up some dirt.”
He rubs his chin absently then gives a leering wink.
“That brings us to the last piece of business. We’ve been invited to attend the War Council this morning. I’ve accepted the offer. I think it’s important that any of you who can make it come with me.” I smile at my favorite comrade. “How are your patients?”
“We lost four men last night. Another two aren’t out of danger, yet. I was planning on heading back there as soon as we’re done unless you want me with you.” The healer defers to my judgment.
“If the rest of the guys are attending, then the wounded need you more than I do.” I sigh shaking my head. “Anybody have something else they want to go over?”
“I got nothing. Cripes! All I did was go to bed and sleep… mostly.” Charles gets a chuckle from the men.
“Milady, your page is here to escort you to the council meeting,” Crystal interjects into the silence. So in other words, if you don’t want to be late, you’d better be going.
“Thank you, Crystal.”
Jamison moves to pull out my chair.
Speaking in Cuthburish, I add, “How about making this breakfast meeting a regular practice?” When four male voices reply affirmatively, I move to follow the blonde.
A young boy dressed in cobalt and silver is waiting in the reception chamber. The youth can’t be more than twelve, thirteen at most. When we appear, he stands straight and bows stately.
“I’m Archmage Reba. You must be my new page.” I pretend he is an adult, not the child I see before me.
“Page William at your service.” My empathy doesn’t get a sense of awe, like with the other natives.
“We need to get to the Council Chamber. Take us by the quickest route you know.”
With a bow, he marches straight to the outer door, holding it for our party. “Right this way, Milady Archmage Reba.”
We hustle back the same way we came last night. William assumes the lead.
Charles moves up beside me. I speak quietly in my native tongue, “I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you. Do we have a few minutes?”
“Sure, wassup?” He flashes me a smile.
“Ugh, well, I don’t want to offend you. What I have to say, well, it’s… kind of on a personal level.” My cheeks begin to burn before I even get started.
“It must be something good to make you color like that.” Prince Charming coaxes, “Come on, spit it out.”
“It’s about our chambermaids. I had a little heart to heart with mine this morning. It seems we’ve been assigned some very special servants. They are the kind that will do anything—and I do mean anything—you ask. You might not even have to ask. It seems politeness to someone of their station can be taken as a proposition.”
Charles’s lips stretch so far across his face, they become as thin as mine. I rush to divulge the reason I brought up the topic. “I’m not gonna preach at you. Your life is your own. Please remember, though, people use pillow talk for espionage.”
“Little Momma, you raggin’ on me about slippin’ up when I’m gettin’ a piece?” Charles’s eyes twinkle.
“It’s just a friendly reminder; Live out your fantasies to your heart’s content, but make sure you keep your mouth shut except for tales of valor. If you’ll pass on the info to the other men, I’d appreciate it.”
“Will do, Little Momma.” A moment of solemnity overcomes him. “You know, I wasn’t all that much of a smooth talker. Back home, I mean. Here the words come easy. I guess I should monitor what’s coming out.”
With one eyebrow raised, his mood swings back to jovial. “So tell me: How did you find out about all this? I mean, you have female servants too, right?”
“W-well, she-e…” I stutter, cheeks flaming. Furiously, words shoot out of my mouth. “Because I was nice to her, Crystal thought I was coming on to her. When I told her that I’m straight, she offered to get me a discreet man!”
“Boo-yah!” Charles crows.
Nervously I glance around to see if we are drawing attention. “It’s not like I don’t have enough to worry about without having a maid that bats for both teams!” Charles lets out another guffaw. I throw a punch at him. “Just watch out for ulterior motives, ’K?”
Stifling laughter, red tinges his dusky complexion. “Fo’ real, she was willing t’, you know, with you? Man oh man, this is wicked. Tha sistas’ are willin’ to double my plesha? Talk about maximizing your R & R.” Charles is unable to get the revelation off his mind. I pin him with a glare. He adds, “Well, don’t worry. I plan on taking full advantage of my new looks and charm. I will be hittin’ it enough for two.” He leers. “Or with two!”
I think he’s serious! Men, ugh!
William has taken us back to the same hallway outside the kitchen then through one of the doorways on the right. The passage twists and turns then ends at another door. The page holds open the portal. I squint, my eyes adjusting to the bright corridor.
“Right this way, Archmage Reba. The Council Chamber is the second door on the right.” William gestures down the hallway where two guards stand at attention outside an entryway. Kerosene lamps shine from the walls about every five feet. The heels of our soft leather boots click on the polished marble floors. I stop before the indicated door.
Charles announces our party. “Archmage Reba and the Crusaders of the Light.” Since I shine like a beacon in this robe, the nomenclature seems appropriate.
A sentry moves to open the door as bells sound. Unsure of what my reception will be, I enter with my head held high, whispering, “Sight” under my breath.
The Council Chamber is a square room with royal blue banners hanging on the walls. A likeness of Castle Eldrich is embroidered on each. A long table, slightly bigger than the one we ate breakfast on, takes up most of the space in the room. There is no sign of anything magical, but that fact offers little comfort.
The sound of wood scraping stone greets me. All but two of the eight men in the room bow. I give a nod to the other men, as King Arturo and Prince Szames hustle toward us.
“Archmage Reba, we are pleased you could make it. Let us introduce you to the Council of Cuthburan. Archmage Reba and the Crusaders of the Light, we present to you Duke Rokroa of Kempmore, Duke Gabion of Everand, Marquess Vinfastur of Rhymon, Count Anzin of Gandrus, Count Baulyard of Mountview, and Baron Eldhress of Brightport.” Each bows in turn as King Arturo calls his name.
“A pleasure, gentlemen. There is much to discuss. We have many things to accomplish while we have the luxury of time.” I smile, concluding by asking a question I already know the answer to. “Your Majesty, may I inquire: has anyone has magically sealed this room?”
“We are in the heart of the castle.” His brow crinkles in puzzlement as he exudes offense. “What need have we of magic here? Does not your shield already surround the city?”
“The shield I erected keeps the physical enemy from the city. Sorcerers, however, have the ability to trance, seeing into places far distant. We are facing a rogue sorcerer of unknown abilities. I suggest we secure this room. I further suggest that no one mention our plans once they leave this room.” I bow, remembering I am addressing one of the most powerful men on this planet. “With your permission, Your Majesty, it will take a brief moment for me to perform the necessary enchantment. It will keep all that is said inside these walls truly private.”
I feel shock, disbelief, and outrage echoing around the room. Is it because I’m a woman, a subordinate, or have I neglected some protocol Crystal doesn’t know? Only Prince Szames is apathetic.
“Magic of any kind has been forbidden in this room since it was built more than two centuries ago. However, this is the first war that has been fought with sorcery since its construction; therefore, we believe the time has come to break with tradition. Archmage Reba, your logic and reasoning are sound. If you have a spell that will further secure this chamber, it will be performed before the council session begins,” King Arturo declares, sounding as if the precaution is his idea.
“As you wish, Your Majesty.” I return to the door. I quickly reenact the spell I used on my dining room.
After checking to make sure the barrier encases every inch of the room, I turn to address the king. “Your Majesty, the room is secure. All conversations held within these walls will be heard by none but those present.”
The king nods his approval, motioning to the empty chair on his right. “Merithin is unable to attend today’s council. We would have you sit here, in his place, to advise us in his absence.”
“I would be honored, Your Majesty.” Charles pulls out the chair. I take a seat with the trio of bodyguards standing behind me. The War Council members sit as well.
King Arturo addresses the council. “First order of business: last night we lost two dwellings to the demons. They dropped torches on the city after many of their number fell to the shield Archmage Reba erected. We will post archers along the upper wall. We are open to other suggestions of other defenses that
we may use to deter the demons from firing the city tonight.”
“Flaming brands?” Anger blazes to life. “Your Majesty, the demons used fire to get through my shield?” They circumvented my impregnable defense in less than a day!
I hesitate long enough to receive his affirming nod before I charge on, “How many lives were lost?”
Arturo’s face is as blank as his feelings are puzzled. Prince Szames murmurs, “A dozen townsmen perished before we could get the blaze under control.”
My voice becomes as sharp as the blades I carry. “Why was I not woken when a flaw in my defense was discovered?”
“It was our judgment that, with your prior effort erecting the necessary defense, you would be unable to aid us further,” King Arturo asserts.
I discern his indignation at the questioning of his procedure, but my perfect memory hounds me. I made a toilet, increased my boobs, kept myself from gaining weight, and even more! Twelve lives were lost while I dorked around! I advance, full steam ahead, heedless of the feelings in the room.
“Your Majesty, I assure you I had more than enough energy to handle a few fires last night. What I didn’t personally have I would have borrowed from another. I highly suggest, in the future, before judging what magical resources remain at my disposal, you inform me of the situation. I will tell you what I am or am not capable of.” Pausing to regain my composure, I continue. “As for the demons’ fire, I will adjust the shield. Archers on the walls are a good idea. As long as they stick to the inner side of the battlement, they should be safe.”
“If you can modify the defense already in place, then we leave that issue in your capable hands.” King Arturo dismisses my concerns and the outburst, though we are both still as prickly as a couple of saguaro cacti.
“Next order of business: battle plans.” King Arturo turns to his son. “Commander, you and the archmage have encountered these demons. What do you suggest concerning fighting techniques?”
“I believe pikes will be the best offense. Most of the demons have far superior reach and strength. Pikes for the larger ones are the best solution. Archmage Reba, you and your men handled an orc last night. What do you suggest?” With a turn of his lips bordering on smugness, Szames invites my input while his father stifles a sigh.
