“When you are ready, I wish you to place everything in this area I have circled into a deep winter. I want the snow piled high.” Luthian looked up at Alador. “This is your first task to prove your loyalty, and to begin what I have planned.”
Alador eyed the map carefully. “Uncle, the Daezun people are well stocked for such a winter.” He looked up. “They will just hunker down until the spring thaws.”
“Yes, I have accounted for this.” Luthian licked his lips in anticipation. “However, even more snow will fill the mountains and you will then bring an early warm spring thaw.” He waited to see Alador put the piece together.
“Flooding many of the riverside villages and towns...” Alador frowned. “I fail to see how this will help you achieve your ends.”
“But what will come from that? Finish this tale for me nephew,” Luthian coaxed.
“Well, some will move south, the other villages will be forced to absorb them. Others will rebuild and with an early thaw, begin planting.” He frowned. “Even if you repeat the cycle, they will survive the next winter.”
“Unless…” Luthian coaxed softly.
“Unless…” Alador tapped his lips, clearly attempting to follow the plan. “Unless the summer has little rain and the crops fail. They won't be prepared for a repeat of such a winter. They will starve or move south… which will increase the pressure on the villages that take them in. That would deplete resources in the lower villages.” Alador looked up at his uncle to see if he had discerned the plan correctly.
Luthian smiled his approval of Alador’s quick mind. “When we are ready, we will flood the south with unending rain.” Luthian’s tone held an edge of malice as he rubbed his hands together. Their crops will mildew and fail: pushing all the Daezun into a small area and forcing them to reach out to Lerdenia for help.
Alador ran a finger around the area where Smallbrook lay, moving to the opposite side of the table from Luthian. “And this allows you to keep your promise that Smallbrook will not be touched. However, Uncle, they will be impacted.” He looked up at the author of this grand scheme to subjugate the land of his birth.
“If you have fears for your family, you are welcome to make a home for them in Lerdenian lands. I am sure the trader who brought that drained stone to me paid you handsomely for it. You undoubtedly have the slips to set them up along the border lands.”
Alador nodded. “I do. I will consider that advice.” He looked up at his Uncle in admiration. “It is a fine plan with minimal loss of life. I must say, I am impressed.”
Luthian smiled at the praise, he enjoyed the admiration in the younger mage’s eyes. “Yet impossible without a strong mage who can control storms and weather. My previous attempts could not bring enough weather to bear to make a true impact.” Luthian slammed his hand down at the edge of the map, making Alador jump. “But you, you hold almost the entire power of a full-grown blue dragon. You can do this, and it makes me even more proud that it will be a Guldalian hand that wields the power.” His tone implied they had already won this battle.
There was a pause as Alador considered the map. “Even if that power is held by a half-Daezun?” Alador questioned quietly. When the boy looked up at him, Luthian could see the uncertainty of a lost youth in his eyes. ‘What better emotion to play upon?’ Luthian mused.
“We were all one blood once, long ago, Alador. You are turning into a fine man, a well-skilled politician and a strong mage. I could not be prouder.” He heaped on the praise smoothly.
He was satisfied with a flush of color from his nephew’s cheeks as the boy dropped his gaze. Yes, Luthian thought, Aorun had indeed done him a favor.
“Now that you know what motivates me, let us see about inspiring you. If you can achieve this for me, what gift do you wish in return?” Luthian asked, curious what would move the boy and how he could use it to keep Alador in line.
“Lift the ban on half-Daezun attempting a higher tier. If you wish to unite the island under one rule, then you have to start finding ways to integrate them. Otherwise, the Daezun will see you as the conqueror and not the benefactor you seek to unite them under.” Alador’s answer was swift, and Luthian could tell the mageling had thought on this before.
“Points well spoken, but I see a more personal motive here…,” Luthian pointed out as he assessed Alador carefully. The boy was quick to move when he wanted something. Now Luthian knew two things he could use to control the boy: a rise to power and family, both of which were easily manipulated.
“Of course, I am not that far removed from the ‘pure-blooded’ trunk of the family tree. I desire power as much as any mage, and would hope to sit upon your council one day… in an executive position.” Alador smiled with a hint of pride, but Luthian saw greed and vanity as well. “I will be able to advise you on the matter of managing an island half-full of Daezun.” He circled the table, tapping the half of the map where the Daezun resided.
“You bring the hard winter I seek to the north east and I will lift the ban,” Luthian offered. It was unlikely that any half-blood other than his nephew could rise far anyway. He had found that few of the half-Daezun had enough skill to master any fourth tier levels of power. Luthian felt no harm in offering the boon. If the boy betrayed him, he would use him as an example to others who set their ambitions too high.
“Agreed.” Alador circled the north east with this finger as he eyed the markers that would keep Smallbrook safe. Luthian was not lost on what the boy was calculating. He was clearly making sure that nothing he did would have an impact on this little village he sought to protect.
Luthian smiled. He would send a spy into Smallbrook and gather up the names of everyone that might be of use to him. “Best head back to the Blackguard. You have travel plans to see to, and only a fortnight’s leave to learn what you must.” He snapped his fingers in front of the boy’s face as he seemed lost in thought. “The first spell will need to be cast by the turn change.” Luthian eyed him. “That gives you an additional month to be ready to bring in a winter such as this isle has never seen."
Alador had startled, then nodded at Luthian’s final words. He took one last look at the map, gave a respectful bow, and turned to leave the small room. For the first time, Luthian got a full-view of the back of the lad’s cloak. The blue dragon formed in silver thread on his back was magnificent, but what caught his gaze was the eye. It held a hatred so embedded that Luthian shivered at its gaze. He had never seen such fine work on a cloak. He followed his nephew to the doorway and called after him.
“Alador. One… one moment.” Luthian practically stammered out his words.
“Yes, Uncle…?” Alador turned to look at him.
“Who is the tailor that made your cloak?” Luthian was intent on hiring a man who could bring such feeling into embroidery
“I was. I used magic to form it.” Alador pulled the edges of the cloak forward to admire the silver thread work.
“The dragon on the back...: how did you visualize such detail? Have you seen such a dragon?” Luthian pressed, surprised that his nephew had created such a work of art for his own simple use.
“I guess in a book or something.” Alador shrugged. “I don’t know. I just saw him and pressed the image onto the cloak. I don’t remember where I saw it.” Alador let go of his cloak and returned his gaze evenly to Luthian. “Anything else, High Minister…?”
“No... no, that is all.” He watched Alador as his nephew bowed low again and turned on his heel to depart. His eyes followed the boy out of the room until the guard shut the door. For the first time since Alador had entered the room earlier, Luthian was certain he was lying. That dragon was consumed by hatred for whomever or whatever was trapped in its gaze.
The small room felt suddenly cold and damp and Luthian shivered. He turned and locked the door once more. One thing he was certain of: he never wanted a dragon to look at him with such a vengeful gaze.
Chapter Thirteen
Alador left the Council tier feeling sat
isfied with what he had just learned and accomplished. He had bought himself enough time to go to the dragon and plead his case. He had enough information to warn Dorien so that the Daezun could prepare. He would have to thank Sordith: using his disdain for his father’s choices had indeed warmed Luthian. Alador knew the High Minister did not trust his brother and had been able to use that for his advantage. It had been a risk letting his uncle into his head so easily, but he had been careful to utter no lies.
He moved with a bright step as he headed for Henrick’s home. He would need to make sure his father would be ready for the journey to Keensight’s cave tomorrow. Today would be a day for preparation and tying off other loose ends.
He entered the grand house and made his way to his father’s library. He was not even sure where his father’s private rooms were, as every time he had visited his father had been in the library. Today was no different; Henrick was reading before the fire. He looked up as Alador entered.
“How did it go?” Henrick asked offhandedly and looked back to his book. “No, I did not read your mind. Sordith visited a short while ago,” Henrick stated.
“Well enough. I now know Luthian’s plan and why he needs me. I will have to concede to his wishes until everything is in place. If we are careful, I think I can protect my people and still appear to be furthering Luthian’s ambitions, at least for a short time.” Alador sat down in a chair opposite his father, watching him closely. He realized that Sordith’s words at the bottom of the stairs had changed some of his views on his father. He frowned at the swirling, confused emotions that welled up at that thought.
“What is the overall plan?” Henrick set the rich, leathered tome beside his chair.
“He plans to starve them out and force them to seek aid from the Lerdenian people. That aid will come at a high price.” Alador loosened the clasp of his cloak to let it fall behind him. “I will admit, if I had a wish to unify a land, it is a plan with the fewest losses. It is rather brilliant,” Alador admitted. “I would probably be excited if it was not a plan against my own people and family.”
“You don’t seem concerned?” Henrick tipped his head to look at Alador.
“I’m not. He doesn’t know the Daezun, and he is not taking into account my own skills at the game he plays.” Alador shrugged with more than a trace of youthful arrogance. “As far as lying and deception are concerned, I’ve had good teachers in him and you.” He sat back, still watching his father closely.
Henrick sighed. “I have never deceived you. How many times must I tell you this?”
“I guess till you believe it, because I never will,” Alador answered seriously. “However, let us take those lies off the table for the moment. You have taught me well when it comes to my uncle, and you cannot tell me you don’t play the game with him, for he doesn’t seem to know your true intent.”
Henrick slowly nodded. “This is true, I do lie and deceive your uncle.” Henrick smiled slowly at the thought. “I fear it has become something of a delight when I can get one past him.” Henrick grinned with mischievousness.
Alador smiled slightly. “The problem is knowing how much of what you portray is really accepted by him. For now, I am going to assume I failed, and move accordingly.”
“Probably a wise choice,” the older mage mused. “So, what is the next step? Sordith told me that you and he have created a basic plan, but would give me none of the details.”
Alador nodded growing a bit more serious. “We go to see Keensight tomorrow. I hope you’re ready, because I’ve only a fortnight to be away to learn what I must.” He paused and took a deep breath. “In addition, I have to figure out how to bring a snowstorm and hold it.” He looked more directly at Henrick. “I told Luthian that you would help me learn to control it. I hope you can do that.”
“Oh, is THAT all?” Henrick said with a bemused smirk. “I think Keensight a better choice for that, if you can win him over, but I’ll do what I can.” He eyed Alador with rather more seriousness. “I cannot convince you how unlikely it is that you’ll win this dragon over? Dragons have long memories. He is not going to forgive you that sore throat easily.” Henrick sipped his wine and swirled the glass, staring into it.
“He’s not so innocent himself.” Alador got up and poured himself a glass of wine before continuing. “I plan to remind him that HE planned to make me a pile of cinders when I shot him. I can only hope he sees reason, for I truly shot in self-defense of myself and the small ones hiding in the brush nearby.”
Henrick shook his head. “Dragons don’t think this way, Alador. You may end up as a pile of ash before you even finish explaining.”
“It’s a risk I must take,” Alador stated firmly. “Your job is just to get me there. If I end up a pile of ash, then I beg you to go to Dorien with everything you know. Luthian will eventually figure out a way to bring a war, or the storms he desires.” Alador paused and added softly: “…with or without me.”
He returned to his chair and looked directly into Henrick’s eyes. His worry was clearly written on his face with the intensity of his gaze and his furrowed brow. “You owe me that much. Promise me, if I fail to win Keensight over, you will go to Smallbrook and warn Dorien.”
Henrick held Alador’s gaze for a long moment, then looked over into the crackling fire. It was the only sound in the room for a long moment before he gave his answer. “I swear it.”
Alador drained his glass, setting it aside as he rose from the chair. “Well then, I must be off.” He rose with his cloak and swung it around his body again.
Henrick gasped as the dragon swirled passed him. “You wore that in Luthian’s presence?” He stood and moved around Alador to get a better look at the dragon on the back.
“I did.” Alador grinned as he turned to face Henrick.
“Why would you do that?” Henrick looked truly puzzled. “The intensity of it betrays the fact that you have seen this dragon. We don’t want him guessing it was a geas stone.”
“Because, whether Luthian realized it or not, I have declared war on the Lerdenian Empire,” Alador coldly stated. “I have declared it on behalf of the Daezun, of Renamaum, and of the dragons.” His passion grew as he continued. “This image will be my banner and I will plant it on the council tier one day when I declare peace between all three races.” Alador spoke with such certainty that Henrick could only nod in wonder.
“We will leave tomorrow. I hope that is enough time for you to prepare.” Alador turned and strode from his father’s study. He did not wait for an answer.
Alador made his way to his room. His visit with the High Master of the Blackguard had gone well. The man seemed relieved to hear of Aorun’s death and was sympathetic to Alador’s situation. He did not question the High Minister’s decree that Alador be given an additional fortnight away from the guard. Alador deliberately did not mention to him that the fortnight was to learn spells or visit dragons. Instead, he gave the leader a rather plaintive tale of how the High Minister was allowing him to go home and seek to reconcile with his family on Daezun ground.
Alador reached his room and let go of the tension with a sigh. The day had been a tense one so far and now he could finally have a moment alone to process everything. He opened the door to his room and stopped in the doorway. Several of the light stones had been covered, creating a soft soothing tone in the room. Keelee was there on his bed and dressed in a revealing gown. Her long black hair was not braided and fell around her in a silken curtain. She looked up at him with those large, shimmering eyes that would have once drowned him in desire. She flashed him a hopeful look.
Alador stepped in and slamming the door shut. “What are you doing here?” Alador snarled in a low, hissed voice.
“Well, you sent Mesiande home…” she began, wringing her hands in her lap. She did not move from his bed though her eyes fell to her toes. “I know you are angry…”
He roughly pulled her off his bed bringing a shriek of surprise and fear from her lips as he glared into
her gaze. “Damn right I am angry. You lied to me. You knew I was waiting for that case and you hid it. You're a lying bitch and... What the hell are you doing here?”
“I… I am your bed... servant,” she stuttered out. Her eyes swelled with unshed tears.
The thought of her in his bed sickened him. “No longer. I release you. I don’t want a wench I cannot trust anywhere near me.” He did not let her arm go as he glared down at her.
“I... have nowhere else…” A single tear slipped down her cheek as she began to speak.
He cut her off. “Not true. I happen to know that Sordith fancies you. Why, I cannot fathom,” his voice was cold and mocking. He tapped her chest as he continued. “Your heart is as black as your hair, because if you had cared a single bit for me, then you would not have continued to hide it.” He grabbed her chin to stare into her eyes. “Why DID you hide the case?” he demanded.
“I... was afraid that you would cast me out for whoever was sending it.” Her voice took on true panic. “Luthian had commanded me to bring him news of anything unusual so… I took it.” She hastily added, “But I never gave the tube to him.” Her voice held a bit of hope that this would make a difference. Her hands moved to his chest, her eyes pleading with him to understand.
Alador was not moved by either her posture or her tear-filled eyes. “Why not? You had it. He’d have paid you well for it.” Alador’s gruff tone did not ease though he did let go of her chin.
“I don’t know. I just felt something really bad would happen if I did. I’ve learned to trust my dreams and feelings like that.” Her own words were desperate whispers, her eyes begging him to understand. She put a hand to his face.
Bloodmines: Cheryl Matthynssens Page 12
