Highmage (Highmage's Plight Book 4)

by D. H. Aire

  Nodding, Spiro whispered, “And the lady’s as bound to Je’orj as that poor unloved lad…”

  “Perhaps, she’ll be, uh, luckier in love.”

  “Oh, Tett, we’re talking about Lord Je’orj.”

  Chapter

  28

  “No,” George said, adamant in the privacy of his study.

  “We’ve got to,” Aaprin replied.

  “I’ve too much more to teach you!”

  “Then teach us whatever you can and fast… Because from what I’ve read about the Old Hall, I think I understand more about becoming a warder mage than Master Stenh does.”

  Juels mucked out the stalls, thinking the world was definitely not fair. She felt fate spinning. The herald was outside trying to convince the sergeant to ready the detachment to head back to the palace as honor guard to the Highmage-designate.

  “Lord Herald, only problem with that is that his horse is up in his room and somehow, I don’t think she’s coming down real soon.”

  “She’s not his horse.”

  “Fine, she’s the naked lady who makes a real vicious warhorse when she gets her mind to it…”

  “We’ve got to get him to the palace.”

  “Perhaps, Her Highness would consider coming here…”

  Varian glared, “We can’t just stay here.”

  “Herald, what precisely did Her Majesty say to you.”

  “What?”

  “What did she command?”

  “I’m to extend her diner invitation and not come back without him.”

  “There you have it. We’re staying here until Lord Je’orj gets his house in order… and based on all the work the dwarves are doing the repairs will take at least a day or two.”

  The herald shook his head as the sergeant’s steed nodded beside him.

  The Imperial Guard blocking the streets leading to the Highmage-designates estate faced more people than the day before. “Did you hear? The Scryer’s Network actually is posting messages.”

  “Did you hear? The Highmage rebuffed a raid by fifty mages beholden to Grendel and with a flick of that staff of his.”

  “What did he do to them?”

  “Why I heard he cast them out of the Empire.”

  “Did you hear?” Captain Yates heard again and again, wishing he and his men were assigned closer to the palace since if Lord Je’orj could deal with even ten mages, he could deal with this crowd seeking just a mere glimpse of him.

  A teenage boy in better clothes than he was comfortable with moved through the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of Clawd. “Where are you, kid?”

  A hand settled on his shoulder, its grip firm and unyielding, “Well, Ebb, you trying to get a glimpse of Lord Je’orj, too?”

  He blinked, staring at the old thief.

  Abernathy shook his head as he was sat in the kitchen and was served tea. “Uh, thank you, Miss.”

  “Thank you, Milord Archmage,” Andre answered as Juels brought a cup to Fri’il, who now joined them, Se’and cradling her babe in her arms.

  “Care for more, Lady Lonny?”

  “Um, yes, please...” she responded once more wrapped in her blanket.

  “Ahem, Milady, but wouldn’t you be more comfortable in well a dress or a robe?” Abernathy asked.

  “They itch.”

  Raven glanced up, nodding, and sent, ‘See?’

  Se’and and Fri’il glanced at each other as Cle’or glanced out the back door, covering her mouth.

  “How long do you suppose this ‘cram session’ as Lord Je’orj put it will take?” Abernathy asked.

  “Oh, I’ll go see if they’re finished,” Juels said, running out toward the study, when she opened the door a blue light blocked her path. She glanced back, then seeing no one watching touch her index finger to it and muttered, “Link requested.”

  :Acknowledged.:

  She smiled and time… stopped around her. Her thoughts expanded outward as she called to her luck with all her might.

  The wall moved back and Clawd covered in dust stuck out his head, whispering back, “Are you sure about this?”

  “You’re… in the palace… and have… a report… to… to make.”

  “But…”

  “Go… it’ll be… all right,” the ogress said, gently urging him into the corridor.

  Clawd crawled through gap, looking both ways before standing. The wall closed up behind him. A door opened down the hall and a woman screamed, “I do not care! Send another detachment and bring him back yourself, Terhun!”

  “As Her Majesty wishes,” he said backing out of the room. The door slammed before him. “Not good… where are you, Clawd?”

  “Uh, hi, Boss.”

  Dagger suddenly in hand, Terhun turned and frowned, “Boy? Why did no one tell me you’d returned?”

  “Um.”

  “Make a proper report, lad,” Terhun said.

  Straightening his shoulders, Clawd stated, “Returned with a report and message from the Highmage-designate by means circuitous, Sir.”

  “What did you do to your clothes, boy?”

  With a frown, Clawd said, “Does it really matter, Master Terhun?”

  “No, I suppose not,” he glanced back. “Oh, come with me, Her Majesty’s given me a task.”

  “Perhaps this will change your plans. Lord Je’orj has agreed to dine with the Empress tomorrow, no sooner.”

  “Clawd, tell me no more,” Terhun said, gesturing him to follow him. He knocked on the closed door and put away his dagger, “Her Majesty will need to hear this firsthand.”

  A herald opened the door, “Master Terhun?”

  He burst past, gripping Clawd’s arm.

  “Terhun! What are you— … Who is this?”

  “The agent I sent has returned with a message from Lord Je’orj.”

  “Fine. What is it?”

  The boy swallowed. “Um, Lord Je’orj asks your indulgence. He is unavoidably delayed but looks forward to dining with you tomorrow evening, Your Majesty.”

  “I need him here now!”

  Clawd swallowed, “I have another message.”

  “Offering me some explanation, no doubt.”

  “No, Your Majesty. This message comes from… someone else. I was told to say these precise words. ‘Child, give him the time he needs. His fate is as difficult as your own. Your time of trials is just beginning, but your patience will reward you in ways foretold.’”

  The Empress frowned as Terhun stared at the boy who was blinking hard.

  “Who gave you that message?” she demanded.

  “An old man,” he said, then wondered. When did he tell me that?

  “An elfblood?” Terhun asked.

  “No, human, and walks with a cane.”

  “This cane,” the Empress asked, leaning forward in her wide backed chair, “do you remember what it looked like?”

  “Looked like?”

  Terhun glanced at the Empress, then added, “Was it made of wood?”

  “No, it was some kind of metal… ugly looking actually.”

  “A black metal?” Terhun asked.

  Clawd shook his head, “More gray than black.”

  The Empress sat back, “Gray? And the handle, was it plain?”

  “Uh, no, jeweled glass with these funny looking runes and pointy hands moving across it.”

  “The old man has returned,” the Empress mused aloud. “And he thinks I’ll heed his advice?”

  Terhun replied, “He hasn’t been seen in hundreds of years.”

  “Who hasn’t?” Clawd asked.

  “Quiet, I must think,” the Empress said, then pointed at the boy. “This old man, he was alone, yes?”

  He thought about what he could say. “Uh, no, Your Majesty.”

  “Who was with him?”

  “Uh, that’s hard to explain… You see, the lady accompanied him.”

  “An elvin lady?”

  “No, a very smart ogress lady.”

  “But we rid ourselves of
such creatures long ago!” she retorted.

  “Uh, I don’t think she likes you, either, Your Majesty.”

  Terhun offered, “She aids the old man, though. That is not what you’d expect of a minion of the dark.”

  “Oh, I can tell you that she likes Lord Je’orj a lot. They had a private chat last night.”

  “She spoke with Lord Je’orj?” the Empress said, staring.

  “Must have been a bit one sided,” Terhun offered.

  Clawd frowned, “Yeah, Lady Mallory did most of the talking and I could see Lord Je’orj nodding a lot… oh, and he thanked her for her help.”

  “Herald, bring the boy a chair, then leave us. I think I would hear his report from the beginning with Master Terhun in private.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  The herald exited privately pleased at Varian’s continued absence. Lord Lyai’s presence in the palace with his personal guard was a complication that had not been foreseen, but otherwise Lord Grendel’s plan was working perfectly. He looked outside. One Imperial Guard walked the ramparts and he knew the poor fellow was working a triple shifts.

  He glanced back the door to Empress’s study. She had made it clear she would see no one of the Court today, intending not to make known how few defended the palace, but that also played in Lord Grendel’s hands. Fewer witnesses, fewer foolishly loyal defenders to contend with.

  He sighed, knowing things would be made right at long last… and his task was to see the blame laid firmly upon the human mage.

  Mallory watched from behind the secret panel.

  “Do you hate her so?”

  “Melvyn, it was her mother… and grandmother… that hunted me and my friends.”

  “A deliberate misunderstanding.”

  “Cursed… and betrayed.”

  “Well, you certainly explained matters to George.”

  “I will not… be trifled with.”

  “Of course, not, my dear.”

  “I may… not look it… now. But I am—”

  “You were the finest astrogator any captain could want.”

  The ogress sighed, “Thank you… for not… blaming this… all on me.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “I’m all too aware this is all my fault, my dear. And if I can admit that, you should be able to be the, uh, bigger woman.”

  She glared at him.

  An affinity for mischief, more like,” Gallen replied with a chuckle.

  :I am suggesting that it may take you working closely together to understand the magical concepts that are outside my database’s understanding.:

  Aaprin grimaced. “I suppose she can… come then. But it is not going to be pleasant.”

  “Living on the streets isn’t very pleasant, either, Gallen.”

  “Fine, you’ll be my… teaching assistant.”

  “What? I’m a master of illusion!”

  “You have no knowledge of the Academy’s ways and I can see you teaching minor illusions. But I’ve never seen you exactly casting a spell.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Teaching the Faeryn heresy may not go over well with Master Donnialt.”

  “Well, you’re going to be a teacher of human magery and so shall I!”

  :In that case, perhaps we should focus on experimentation and the scientific method. At least teaching you about logic may help you unravel your mystery.:

  Aaprin glanced at Gallen and nodded, “Very well then.”

  :Lesson begins…:

  “But, Master!” they chorused.

  “Revit, Terus, promise to only use your tricks to help and not hinder. Promise!”

  The boys looked at each other.

  “NOW!” Thunder rumbled.

  “We promise! We promise!”

  George nodded, “That’s better… you will do whatever you can to aid Aaprin, who is in charge, understood?”

  “Yessir…”

  “And you all are to come back safe and sound or… Cle’or will be less than amused.”

  They both paled.

  “I see we understand each other. So, boys, against my better judgement I’ve going to accelerate your learning. Welcome to advanced chemistry.”

  “Kema-what?” Revit asked.

  :Chemistry,’ Staff offered, ‘think of it as alchemy.:

  “Actually don’t. That will only inflate your egos more,” George said.

  :George, do not bore them… Boys, learn this and think of it as alchemy. It will likely inspire you to greater effort.:

  “We can make gold, you mean?” Terus laughed.

  “What else can we make?” Revit asked, eyes twinkling.

  “Oxygen,” George suggested. “You’ll likely need to revive Master Stenh…”

  :Lesson begins…:

  Juels trembled in her moment of no time, tears welling, as she reached for the node and pulled those in thrall with the computer staff further out of phase as knowledge poured into the apprentices.

  She sensed herself being watched, but not interfered with.

  There was a sparkle, which she knew she dared not let draw her attention. Others watched her now, some were fluttering close. Too close… She withdrew, letting matters take their course. She closed the door and stepped back and shouted, “Looks like they’ll be a while.”

  She leaned back against the door and took several deep breaths.

  “What’s going on in here?” the woman yelled as the stranger practically jumped out of his chair.

  “Uh, we’ve, a, uh, guest,” Mahr said.

  The black robed woman stared at the group of young ladies clustered around the boy their age. “By the Sires, what are you girls thinking?”

  Mahr grinned impishly, “Can we keep him?”

  “Keep him? You ever think he might, I don’t know, be a threat?!”

  “Uh, excuse me, Ma’am,” the youth in question said. “I’m no threat… But how I’m going to explain this to Lady Cle’or, I’ve not a clue.”

  “Cle’or?”

  “Your family made that blade, Ma’am.” He pointed at her dagger, “but it’s the balance on those hiltless throwing knives I truly envy.”

  The woman stared.

  “I need to report your presence here to Lady Cle’or… and the Imperial Service.”

  “You cannot. Not yet, at least!”

  “Good, we can keep him then,” Mahr announced to cheers. “How are those cookies coming? Ruke looks hungry.”

  He swallowed as the older Cathartan muttered, “De’ohr, this one’s all yours.”

  Ebb was half dragged out of the crowd and knew it was best not to fight the old thief, not after he had whispered that name in his ear. He was taken to a nearby inn and there were a number of unpleasant looking men milling in the hall, each armed with a short sword in a well service scarbard.

  He was ungently ushered into the den. The fireplace was banked and beside it someone sat with their back to him. The thief closed the doors behind him. “Sir?”

  “Ebb, sit,” the man said, gesturing.

  The former urchin sat, “I really should be on my way.”

  “You can spare a moment or two,” he replied. “After all, you are seeking information and I’m known for coming by a great deal.”

  “Um.”

  “I’m not seeking the old tax payment, lad… We’re far beyond that, I think.”

  He stared at the Prince of Thieves.

  Gabriol smiled, “Harlequin thinks quite highly of you.”

  “And I of… her.”

  “Know this young Imperial spy, the Thieve’s Guild sees no profit when elflords fight. Magery can destroy precious wares and our regular markets.”

  “I’m not a spy, Sir.”

  “You work for Terhun and have been trained by the Highmage-designate’s own champion.”

  “Um…”

  Gabriol grinned, “No need to deny it, Ebb… We do not seek Imperial entanglements, so we will not interfere with you and your friends.”

  “Some are stil
l missing.”

  “Some are dead.”

  “Have you heard what happened to any of the others?”

  “There were those who were taken out of the city, but I’ve learned not where.”

  “Oh. If you learn anything…”

  “We will send you word at an opportune time, and, of course, would appreciate some token of the Imperial Service’s, uh, regard.”

  “Certainly.”

  “And perhaps, Lady Cle’or might return a favor to us one day.”

  “A favor?”

  “We are friends, aren’t we, Ebb?”

  He swallowed and said, “Of course.”

  “Good. Good. Then as a friend, might I suggest that you mention to Master Terhun that he has friends watching the Sixth and Seventh Tiers, so moving more of the Imperial Guard closer to the palace might be a good idea… a very good idea.”

  “Herald Varian, you will be joining us for dinner with the Archmage?” Se’and asked, coming out the kitchen door.

  Varian looked up from the chair in the shade of the tree in the garden. “I… what’s that wonderful smell?”

  “Tett’s making what he calls a Stroganoff.”

  “A what?”

  “Some old dwarven recipe… he’s been making noodles and working on a cream sauce,” Se’and replied. “Sergeant, you will join us again this evening?”

  Atop his steed, “Legion halt.” The fifteen steeds all paused. Grinning, the sergeant replied, “Looking forward to it.”

  “Excellent… and, gentlemen, the dwarves will be serving dinner promptly at the sixth bell.” She pointed at the steeds, “And Andre and Juels will put out feed for lot shortly.”

  They whinnied.

  “Lady Lonny will be staying with us tonight.”

  The steeds’ eyes widened.

  Varian blinked, “Marvelous, it’ll be a table fit for a Queen then of a certainty.”

  Staff completed the lesson, its glow dimming. :Uh, George, we seem to have lost a bit more time than expected.:

  “I thought we adjusted for that.”

  :We should not have had too.:

  Aaprin stumbled against Gallen, who steadied him, blinking hard.

  Revit and Terus started giggling, mumbling to each other, “Alchemy, alchemy… it’s just chemistry.”