by D. H. Aire
“Um.”
Then instead of throwing her livery over her bodice, she loosed it, and slipped out of it.
The others stopped and stared. Za’an harshly whispered, “Mahr, what do you think you are doing? We’re to guard him, not bond him!”
She paused, shaking her head, “Ruke, you’ll see I’m going to be the best… bodyguard ever.”
“Uh huh,” he said staring, thinking this couldn’t be happening.
One giggled as she gave him a bow, “He’s blushing.”
Za’an shook her head, then hurriedly clapped him on the back, “Breathe, Milord.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Abruptly Mahr was on her tiptoes, kissing him gently on the lips, “Mmm, Ruke, we’re going to be really good guards.”
“Um?”
Za’an shook her head as the others gaped, Mahr throwing her arms around him, grinning. His arms hung awkwardly, then with a moan he drew her close as the young ladies stared and drew her tight.
She smiled, “You’ll do nicely.”
Her friends chuckled. Za’an slapped Mahr’s bottom. “Hey!”
“Get dressed… my lady, we’ve a job to do.”
“Fine, fine,” she glanced at the staring and flushed Ruke. “I’ll just be a moment, Milord.”
“My lord?”
Za’an nodded, “Best not let anyone else hear you say that, Mahr.”
She hastily dressed as they heard a knock and knew their weapons had been brought from the armory.
“Grigg?”
He was on his knees pulling up the floor boards. He drew out the cloth wrapped sword, followed by its scabbard. He glanced up as his wife offered him his livery, the Third legion insignia prominent. He nodded, then drew out the silver chainmail that had saved his life on more than one occasion.
“How many do you think will join you?”
“I spoke to five more in the Seventh in the wee hours of the morning, I promised them I’d hire them after.”
“That could beggar us.”
Shaking his head, looking at the mail, he said, “Not if Lucian’s right about Lord Sianhiel’s promises. The elfbloods will be doing a lot more business with us… with all those who return to the Empress’s service.”
He rose and she helped him dress. “Don’t take foolish chances. I’ll not raise our children alone.”
When he left, she found the letter on the kitchen table addressed to Rexil and their daughters. “Oh, Grigg, come back to me…”
No sooner had he exited the building than his old sergeant, who he had tried to recruit, looked down at him astride one of two rather large warhorses. “Morning, Grigg, look what found me.”
“Found you?”
“They took one look at me in this mail and livery and sauntered right over. Some poor fellows thought to claim them, but sadly the steeds disabused them of their notion… Well, left them unconscious and with a few broken bones, but you get my meaning, Corporeal.”
“Uh, steeds, Master Sergeant?”
“Grigg, I’m older than I look, lad. Healthy dose of an elvin bloodline, though, none would ever claim a mageless one like me.” He turned to the second steed, “This is Grigg, an honorable legionnaire heeding the call to service that even stirred this old heart. He’d make a fine reader, lad.”
The steed whinnied and knelt.
“Bareback?”
“You always were a good enough rider.”
He climbed on and off they rode toward the sounds of the mob.
He’d been part of the crowd that had turned to vengefully move and found himself driven back by the dwarves and the small group of Imperial guardsmen. The elfblood healer had shouted from the wall that the Empress was alive and well, that traitors had sought her harm but Lord Je’orj had stopped them.
“Lies!” men shouted throughout the crowd. “He murdered the Empress!”
“That is the lie!” Balfour yelled back.
“The Empress is dead!” shouted a man now closer to him.
The man glanced at him as people cried in rage and saw Balfour’s smile. He suddenly knew what he had said it was indeed a lie and fought to get off the street. He ran toward the Sixth Tier Gate and saw another mob screaming in rage marching toward him.
“Halt in the name of the Empire!” an old legionnaire cried riding a very large warhorse beside one of his comrades.
Those at the forefront of the mob paused, seeing them alone. “By Order of the Empress, return to your homes!” the sergeant cried.
“The Empress is dead!”
A scryer came out of the alley the legionnaire had ridden from. “That’s a lie! She invites you to the Second Tier where she will address all those who would hear her.”
“It’s a trick!” someone in that mob yelled.
“Enri?” someone in the crowd knew that voice and shouted, “What are you doing in that get-up?”
“The Empress calls and even an old dog like me comes!”
“She’s de… huh,” the man in the crowd began to yell only to find a dagger pressed against his ribs.
“Now don’t be telling no more lies,” the thief said. “Someone might get themselves killed for nothing.”
Enri who long fought goblins in the borderlands, robbers and thieves from one side of the Empire to the other, trained more legionnaires than he could remember, turned his steed about, facing the crowds. “Don’t fall for the Dark One’s schemes. Don’t believe rumors from those who wish us all ill.”
His mount made Enri look taller and his words carried louder than they should. His chainmail suddenly gleamed, projecting authority and trust.
The crowd fragmented.
Swallowing the tanner’s apprentice found himself not the only one walking up to the mounted legionnaires and begging, “Mister Enri, can I, uh, help?”
The Court session had only a score of representatives; no few were of lesser branches, representing their Clan Lords. Lord Sianhiel said, “Most of them have gone Underhill.”
The Lady Rowena and Archmage Regis stared at the Empress as she reached her throne and sat. Herald Varian proclaimed, “The Court is now in session!”
“I have called you here to inform you that Lord Grendel Winterslake is pronounced traitor for acts of murder and attempted rape of the royal person.”
There were gasps.
“In his lust for power he thought taking by force what not just the Conclave, but I myself willed, was just. Had not Lord Je’orj, Lord Sianhiel, and Lord and Lady Lyai and others whose courage I shall reward not intervened, the Empire would be at worse hazard… as it is, apparently, Lord Hayden and others are complicit in his foul deeds.”
“It is rumored that you are an imposter,” one of the lesser elflords announced.
She glared. “Archmage Regis, as the ranking member of the Mage Guild present, would you care to certify my being myself?”
“Your Majesty, I do not dispute you.”
“I will not have any doubting my identity.”
“I would need something to compare,” he said.
“Very well, would any of my royal jewels do?”
“Made to order just for this occasion?” an elderly elflord said in protest.
The Empress sat back, “My good herald, please ask my guest my pardon, but I have need of her here at Court.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“A guest, Majesty?” Regis said.
“Will my half-sister Carwina do for comparison?”
“Why, yes, Your Majesty.”
The elderly elflord began to rise. A legionnaire barred the door behind Varian. “Oh, do sit down, Lord Krahiel.”
“Majesty?! I must needs a break.”
“Hold it, Krahiel… Matters will be settled ever so quickly.”
Regis frowned, as Lord Lyai and others gazed at the former Imperial spymaster warily. Krahiel sat back down, clearly unhappy.
George frowned as Varian apologized for the interruption and the invitation for Lady Carwina to att
end the Court. “Why? I only wish to be left alone.”
“Her Majesty’s identity has been questioned and Archmage Regis can end any argument by merely comparing you to your half-sister.”
Terus frowned, “Any of the crown jewels should have served for that.”
“Lord Krahiel objected, claimed…”
“Krahiel? Je’orj, I believe the Lady Carwina will need an escort to prevent anything untoward,” Terhun asserted.
“We agreed that my presence would prove awkward.”
“I will attend her,” Lonny said.
Carwina held out her hand, “You will need to wear something more… appropriate.”
Lonny frowned. She liked the feel of the rather sheer silken shift the Empress had given her this morning. “I need something that will not feel confining or itchy.”
Lord Krahiel was less than pleased at the return of the herald with Lady Carwina and a woman with long red hair he did not recognize. Varian paused, “Lady Carwina, daughter of the late Highmage Alrex, half-sister to Her Majesty and her companion, the Lady Babylon of… Lyai.”
“How do we know this actually is, Lady Carwina?” Krahiel protested.
Carwina shook her head, “Lady Rowena, did we not speak briefly at the Ball that you were seeking a charm to deal with your aged human servant’s arthritis?”
Rowena rose, “That we did.”
Krahiel shook his head, “This proves nothing!”
Regis frowned, “I paid the Lady Carwina respects after the death of her father. Lady, what gift did I bring you?”
“Nothing but your kind words, Archmage, which I will remember, always.”
“I attest that she is the Lady Carwina. Let us proceed.”
Glancing to the lesser elflord, Krahiel moved to sit, squeezing his hand tight. “Deceiver!” the younger lord cried, suddenly rising and pointing as he cast a deadly curse at Carwina.
“To me!” Lonny cried, drawing Carwina close, turning her back to the lordling. Fire spread across her back as the curse struck, burning away the fabric of the loose gown she wore, her hair taking flame as Regis cast a spell of his own.
The lordling stiffened, gasped as he was bound and fell.
Lord Krahiel gaped as the Empress shouted, “Carwina, are you all right?”
Lonny swayed letting her go as Carwina stepped back, “I’m fine… Lonny?”
“Ahh, that stings.”
Carwina turned her about, saw her back blistering, her singed and smoking hair, and sang out a healing.
“Ahh,” Lonny said, “quite a dark curse, that.”
Krahiel trembled, struggling to move. He grimaced and looked down as Regis said, “Still doubt she is the famed healer, Lady Carwina?”
Rowena added, “I believe his lordship cannot reply… oh, and has soiled himself.”
Those closest noses wrinkled with the smell, moved quickly away.
Regis said, “It’s seems my binding spelled undid him, too. The lordling was but his puppet.”
“Guards!” They dragged the pair away as Regis took Carwina’s right hand in his left, and the Empress’s left hand in his right. He sang out the spell and both women glowed the same shade of blue. Stepping back, he turned, “The Empress, and no other, addresses us this day.”
“Now that that’s settled, Lord Krahiel’s properties lie forfeit for his treason. In addition, all loyal members of the Imperial Court will provide men-at-arms and mages to help us forestall the army in rebellion marching out of the west.”
“WHAT?!” Rowena and Regis cried loudest.
She waited for the furor to die down, “Yes, Lord Hayden stands in open rebellion... and I do not appreciate his attempt to mar my wedding.”
Chapter
33
“No fair!”
Lonny rose from the bed and changed back into a steed. She backed him and staff against the wall.
The Empress said, “Now, I expect to be courted properly.”
“Courted?” he gasped, Lonny pressed him more firmly against the wall.
“Courted…” Se’and whispered under her breath.
Fri’il in the bedroom was nursing Ri’ori and suddenly, eyes wide, shouted, “Courted?!”
The word echoed downstairs as Cle’or cried in anger, “Court her! Who does she think she is, anyway?”
Juels’ hands hastily covered her mouth hearing that shouted as she mucked the stables. “Oh, my.” Things were certainly moving along nicely. She sniffed the air, sensing the storm building, which meant tonight was definitely the night.
The doors opened as Court adjourned. Terhun waited for the Empress as Regis and the others left in haste. Carwina and Lonny accompanied the Empress, who said, “Well, that went well. Have you learned anything from Krahiel or his puppet?”
“No, Your Highness, but neither are going anywhere. They are bound to their cells at present and well-guarded… Lord Krahiel merely asks Your Majesty for mercy for his family due to his past service to the Crown,” Terhun replied. “He says they honestly know nothing. He only asks for a dagger to end his own life with honor.”
“Mother warned me she feared his zeal for the Empire blinded him.”
“We will see it right soon enough,” Terhun averred.
“Lonny, are you all right?” Je’orj said. “You look a bit pale.”
She reached out to him, “Milord, I… I feel.” She collapsed in his arms.
“Se’and!”
She grabbed his staff as he hefted her in his arms as Carwina rushed to his side and said, “But I healed her.”
“She’s not what you may be used to,” George replied as the Empress followed them back to her room. The servants had cut off the legs of the broken bed after the Empress refused considering other rooms in the palace. The ogress forestalled Carwina as George bore his charge inside and laid her down as she trembled, then took his staff back from Se’and.
“Scan.”
The ogress barred the door. ‘George…’
Lonny sighed, sitting up, “You are so stubborn.”
The Empress chuckled, “Well, Court is again in session… The Empire needs its Highmage and we do not have time for further delay.”
“No, you’re not!” Se’and said, moving between them.
:My, my,: Staff said, :Se’and agreeing with you.:
“There must be another way for me to become Highmage,” George said.
The Empress glared, “There is not!”
“He will bed no woman outside of his House. Even an Empress… or will you become my sister?”
:And the moment passes.:
George groaned.
“I cannot.”
Lonny said, “You must join the herd, Majesty.”
“I’m Empress!”
Se’and shook her head, “You are a woman.”
“I can’t be married with but a word!”
Lonny smiled, “Is this only about ceremony? Fine, Se’and adopt her and she can have her ceremony later.”
“Hey, just you wait one minute!” George shouted.
The Empress strode up to Se’and, “Adopt me… but I can take no oath.”
“A promise to a sister then?” Se’and offered.
“Done.”
“I am not being put out to stud!”
Lonny turned on her side, “I feel heat coming on.”
George backed up as they all looked at him, “No!”
:They are looking at you like dinner, my friend.:
“NO!” came George’s muffled shout.
Mallory and Carwina heard shouted through the door as the handle turned furiously. The ogress leaned back against it. “What’s going on in there?” Clawd asked as he came down the hall.
“Never you… mind, boy,” the ogress said.
Carwina reddened, “I don’t recall this being part of the plan.”
The door reverberated, but the ward continued to hold.
“Isn’t love… grand?”
The sky grew dark and foreboding. Cloud
s gathered for the coming storm. At the Seventh Tier gate tower by the river, the young scryer looked up from his bowl, “We’re ordered to bring in all the stores!”
The guardsman nodded and drew his dagger. “Did they now, lad?”
The scryer stepped back.
The dagger flew and jutted from his neck. The guard staggered, strangling on his own blood as he slumped to his knees. A gray haired legionnaire stood in the doorway, “Sorry about that, Sir… What are our orders?”
“Sergeant Enri?”
“They said to expect you soon… I was going to tell him that, too.”
“The impetuosity of youth.”
The scryer trembled, recalled the message, “We need to bring in all the stores.”
“I’ve volunteers outside who will be more than happy to help.”
“Volunteers?”
“Joining the Irregulars soon, who can prove their value through hard work.”
“Irregulars?”
“Legion tradition… those who survive that service can join the Legion and die another day.” He bent and dragged the traitor’s body away.
Grigg frowned. There were only a score of retired Legionnaires set to guard this gate, but it was hard to miss black liveried figures hastening from the old Temple of Unity in the distance.
Enri returned dragging a guard’s body.
“Sergeant?”
He dumped the body to the side, “Just another traitor looking to confuse matters now that we’ve set up shop, Corporeal Grigg. Hey, gents! I’ve a job for you…”
The several hundred volunteers looked up and came to what they considered attention.
“Milord, you have been branded traitor by the Empress. If captured, you face execution for all that occurred at the palace,” the black clad mage reported doing a reading of the candle flame.
“Krahiel was supposed to have stopped that!” Grendel shouted.
Kolter shook his head, “Obviously, he failed.”
“He was arrested at Court. He attempted to kill Lady Carwina.”
