Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  “As I was about to say, Lady,” Keef said with a last glare at Alvin. “It’s a secret, but I doubt you will try competing against me in glass. The artisans make it the usual way with fine sand, sea shells, and ash from the very best wood, but what they do then is the secret.” Keef leaned forward and spoke like a conspirator. “You know the green stuff that appears when copper weathers?”

  Oxide? “I know what you mean. So they use that for green.”

  “I don’t know the how but I know the what—if you follow me?” Keef said with a wink.

  Julia nodded. The artisans used copper oxide to tint the glass green. She wondered how they had first found out about the colours. Maybe a batch of glass had become contaminated and they found the secret that way.

  “What about the black there?” Julia said pointing at a robed man obviously a sorcerer.

  Keef didn’t intend to tell Julia all his secrets, but he shrugged and whispered. “Powdered ochre produces black, Lady.”

  Julia placed the figurine carefully in the centre of the table. She did not want to be responsible for breaking such a beautiful thing. She frowned as her thoughts darkened. When she left this world would she only be known for the destruction she caused?

  “Thank you for showing me these, Keef. They’re all wonderful, but I can’t buy.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Lady. Not many do buy these days. Times are hard everywhere.”

  “How do you live then?”

  Keef was surprised but pleased with her concern. “I have more money than I could ever spend, but I enjoy the work. I’ll not give it up—no matter that my wife wishes me to. How would my artisan friends sell their work without me?”

  Julia shook her head grinning. Keef said he hadn’t sold any figures for a long time, but then he turned about and said more or less the opposite. “Who was the model for the woman in green?”

  Alvin coughed and smirked, but Julia didn’t understand and looked to the merchant to explain.

  “Ah I don’t rightly... well that is... She’s the Lady of Dragons.”

  The Lady of Dragons? That sounded like a legend, like Arthur and the round table. Julia asked Alvin to tell her what it was about.

  “No one knows what the Lady looked like, so they’re always like this,” Alvin said pointing at the figurine. “The Lady of Dragons is an old story, Lady. It’s said that a daughter of the Founders ran away from a marriage she didn’t want. She threw herself from a high mountain somewhere, but a huge black Dragon saw her fall and took her away. It’s said she rides him still and will live forever where she is happy as the Lady of Dragons.”

  That sounded interesting. Julia decided to check the library for a book about the Lady of Dragons when they returned to Athione. She liked happy endings.

  Julia moved on and enjoyed the crowds. No one knew her. She liked being able to browse without people bowing at her all the time. Having Alvin dogging her heels raised a few eyebrows, but guardsmen were a common enough sight. They dismissed him and continued about their business.

  Julia glanced at the next stall and moved on. She had no real interest in weapons. Many of the stalls were dedicated to mundane things such as fruit and vegetables. Some of the fruits were unfamiliar, others looked darn bizarre. Apples, or what Julia thought might be apples, were a bluish green in colour. There were no oranges as she was used to, but the plums looked about right. Grapes did to, but the peaches weren’t peaches. They were Pella fruit and tasted like honey and pears in one.

  Julia examined a selection of hand mirrors and frowned at the size. They were little bigger than her hand. “Alvin?”

  “Yes Lady?”

  “Is ten gold a lot of money?” she asked noting the indignant look on the merchant woman’s face.

  Alvin nodded. “Yes Lady, but the price is right. I earn eighteen gold in a year. The Lord is very generous. Others pay their guardsmen ten gold or less in a year.”

  Half a year’s wages for a hand mirror was incredible. Julia hadn’t thought to ask Keef the price of his figurines, but on this scale they must be worth forty gold or more!

  “That makes no sense. No one could afford these,” Julia said waving a hand at the mirrors and jewellery arrayed before her.

  “If you haven’t the money, move on! I’m not a charity you know,” the merchant said scowling.

  Julia raised an eyebrow in amusement and the woman’s face darkened. The merchant wouldn’t sell any of her wares at the prices she was charging. Julia could understand paying good money for quality, but there were limits.

  Mirrors were made with silver—at least Julia thought that was right. Silver would cost a like amount of silver to obtain, and the work involved would cost more, but surely the mirror was worth no more than a gold or two at most. Julia walked away frowning in puzzlement. Supply and demand set prices. With no demand for expensive mirrors and figurines, prices should tumble but they hadn’t. The only thing that made sense to her was that there was a demand—just not here.

  “Where would you go to sell Keef’s figures if you were he?”

  Alvin chuckled. “You found him out. I knew you would. Keef has friends all over Waipara. Those that live in Japura sell his stuff to the rich princes there. The ones in Tanjung sell to the noble houses. No one goes through our pass to trade with the Protectorate, but ships from Japura do go there.”

  “Then why is he trying to sell them here?”

  “He ain’t selling any, Lady. He’s telling the truth about that, but he likes the work.”

  Julia nodded. Keef had said his consort wanted him to give it up, but she had thought that Keef meant his being a merchant. Keef must have meant working on the stall in the market place. He probably had employees for his other concerns.

  “What about the woman with the mirrors then, and what about the others?”

  “Taxes are bad everywhere, Lady. The Lord keeps taxes down in his towns and villages, but the King still demands four coppers in ten from his lords. The Lord pays the difference out of his own treasure, but that ain’t helping trade none.”

  No, it wouldn’t. The people were prosperous on Keverin’s lands, but prices were inflated because of greedy merchants exporting their goods. Keverin’s people could not buy, which in turn meant that Keverin’s coffers were dwindling. How long could he subsidise his people’s taxes? Certainly not forever.

  Julia frowned in thought. Institute a special tariff on certain exports, and trading outside of the kingdom would be less attractive to the merchants. More would stay within the borders. The King would have to institute it though, and from what Julia had seen it was unlikely to happen soon.

  Assuming Pergann did the right thing, trade within the kingdom would resume albeit at a lower level, but the merchants might also pack up and leave. A tariff was no good on its own, Julia decided. A tax cut was also needed to make the merchants want to stay. Prices would fall as external demand dropped, and then level off when people in Deva began buying again. Exports would be lower over all, but the Devan people would be much better off. The traders would howl of course, but they would come around. For one thing, shipping costs would be removed. They would surely see that as an advantage.

  “We should be getting back, Lady. It’s time for the noon meal.”

  Julia nodded and they made their way back toward Athione. The walk was quite long, but still pleasant. The day was cooler than previous days, just as she had predicted that morning. Maybe she had a future as a meteorologist.

  Julia invoked her mage-sight and scanned the sky for something interesting. The swirling energy patterns were there as they were everywhere in the healing realm. She did not mess with them just in case she did something wrong. Alvin was a tower of roiling energy at her side, but the fortress was not here, and neither was the town. Nothing but people and swirling energy was visible in this place, but for the first time she wondered what it was. Could it be the air, or was it the energy of the sun? She didn’t know the answer—she didn’t know the answer to most of
the questions she had in her head, but she was learning. Maybe it was magic floating about—unattached so to speak. Julia tried to grab a strand as it came toward her, but she felt nothing and it floated on by. It wasn’t magic, she decided. It acted like the current in a river. Maybe it really was only air. She let her vision return to normal to find they were approaching the gates.

  “Ho the gate!” Alvin called.

  “Who comes?”

  “Alvin, guardsman escorting the Lady Julia.”

  Eeeeeek! The creaking of the gate made Julia jump, and Alvin laughed.

  “I hope you find your punishment funny, guardsman,” Keverin said standing in the open gate. His face was stone, but the look he gave Julia burned into her. He turned back to Alvin. “Report to Marcus for punishment.”

  Alvin’s face turned sickly. He saluted then trotted off without a word.

  Keverin stepped back to let Julia inside. She noted the gatekeeper was a different man. It looked as if she had been naughty again. She had dropped Galen into hot water as well.

  “Was that really necessary lord Keverin?” Julia said coldly furious for her friend’s mistreatment.

  Booom... clunk! The gate slammed shut and the locking bars drove home sealing the fortress once again.

  Keverin waited for quiet before he spoke. “Alvin will be punished for leaving the fortress without permission as well as being absent from his post, because you failed to ask my leave to go to town. Don’t think for a moment that I blame the boy for what I know is your fault. Alvin is young. He’s not the first man to be swayed in the wrong direction by a pretty face.”

  Julia narrowed her eyes. She was rigid with anger. “I am not one of your guardsmen, Lord Keverin. If I want to visit a market, I will!”

  “You will not!” Keverin shouted, and glared when the guardsmen stopped to stare. “Back to your duties!”

  “How will you stop me? Will you clap me in irons?” she hissed ignoring Keverin’s confused expression, “Chain me to a wall will you? Bring me out like a sword to do your killing for you?” Before he could answer, she overrode him with a voice getting louder with anger by the minute. “You’ve had your say, now you will hear me! I forced Galen to open the gate after he told me your orders, and I dragged Alvin along to show me his hometown. If you want to flex your muscles and punish someone—try me!” she finished with her eyes flashing.

  Keverin was cold. “You are acting like the child I know you to be. I do not punish wilful children—I teach them the lesson.”

  Julia didn’t know what he meant and was worried though she tried not to show it. Keverin turned to a guardsman who ran off toward the citadel. A moment later Moriz and Halbert appeared and reported to Keverin.

  Oh no! He wouldn’t do that.

  He did.

  Keverin turned back to Julia after receiving the guardsmen’s salutes. “Lady, meet your new keepers. This is Moriz, and this—”

  “I already know Moriz and Halbert. Unlike you they are friends of mine. If you think I’m letting them into my rooms, friends or not, you can think again!”

  “They will stand guard at your door day and night,” Keverin said stiffly. “Neither you nor they have permission to leave the fortress without seeing me. At no time will you attempt to leave them behind—if you do, I will assign the entire guard!” he barked the last word in his anger.

  He would too.

  Keverin was more than angry. Julia could see it in his clenching fists. Apart from that telltale sign he looked as if he was doing nothing but discussing the weather. If Julia was any judge, Moriz and Halbert were embarrassed at the conditions their lord was imposing, and it was a major imposition. Women were protected in Deva, but more than that they were respected. Julia saw very little respect in holding her prisoner.

  “Have you quite finished Lord Keverin?” Julia said sweetly.

  “They will follow you everywhere you go—everywhere!” Keverin said and spun on his heel. He stalked away without a by your leave.

  Julia pressed her lips together to stop herself from shouting after him. That—that man, was impossible!

  * * *

  Interlude II

  Jihan stood in the clearing watching the stars fade. He shaded his eyes as the sun rose for a new day. He hadn’t come here to practise with his bow as he usually did. He was here to escape the traitor. In his younger days, around eleven or twelve years old, Athlone had made Jihan’s life a misery by instructing the guardsmen to beat his training into him. Taking a horse and riding the border for a few candlemarks had allowed him some peace. Jihan was a man now and the training had left its marks on his body, but worse were the scars left on his soul. He never spoke, unless asked a question by someone with power over him. He would prowl about the fortress silently, and knew the guardsmen had become wary of him. On two memorable occasions, he had nearly killed a man when pushed beyond caring.

  When Abarsis informed Athlone that the first assault on Athione had failed, Jihan had silently cheered at the news. But now the sorcerer had made a deal with Athlone to allow passage of a second legion through the northern border. The clans had been paid a huge sum of gold to allow the legion to cross the plains. Jihan was more inclined to believe that the money was to salve wounded pride than to buy safe passage. The clans were a nomadic people and gold meant little to them. They followed the great bison herds throughout the year as the beasts moved to fresh pastures. They were strong warrior’s and proud. They even trained their woman to fight alongside the men. They were ferocious fighters, but they weren’t stupid enough to anger the sorcerers.

  Jihan turned and scowled back toward the fortress. How he wished he could escape. He had often fantasised about leaving Malcor for good on these early morning rides. With his training, he thought he could probably escape. He was an excellent fighter both unarmed and with weapons. What he lacked was a definite plan and the courage to defy his father. Devarr itself was out. Athlone owned the Chancellor, and the King was useless. He had thought to go to Japura at one time, but he had decided against it. He would be even more of an outcast there than he was here.

  Maybe I should just ride away.

  He had his sword, dagger, and bow. What else did he need? He could sleep rough and hunt for food. Why was it so hard to ride away? Maybe he liked the pain of living his life alone amongst so many people. If that was the case he would never escape. No! He wouldn’t accept that. Looking back the way he came, Jihan saw guardsmen approaching. He had only been gone a few candlemarks! Why couldn’t they leave him alone? He dismounted and waited for them to come to him rather than making it easy for them. There were three of them led by Luther.

  As soon as they dismounted, Luther laughed. “Yer to come back.”

  Jihan watched the loathsome man walk insolently toward him, and he made a decision—an irrevocable decision. This was the last day he would put up with their treatment of him.

  “I’ll come back in a while Luther.”

  “Your da said not to take no for an answer, boy. Get on your horse.”

  Jihan stood deceptively relaxed with a hand close to his dagger. “You forget yourself Luther.”

  “I ain’t forgot nothin’,” Luther growled and made a grab for him.

  Jihan stepped clear and the sergeant stumbled to one knee. Luther’s two cronies watched impassively as their sergeant pulled a dagger.

  “I’m gonna make you eat this boy.”

  Jihan smiled and drew his sword. “You had better drop the knife Luther. Either that, or draw your sword. You are not taking me back, not this time.”

  Luther drew his sword, but so did his friends. They spread out and attacked.

  Calmly and without rush, Jihan dove to the side. Rolling back to his feet, he thrust and punched through cheap armour. The man grunted and fell sliding free of his sword. Luther was still determined to fight, but the other man had realised that the fun was over. He backed off and tried to reach his horse. Jihan couldn’t allow that. He ignored Luther to run after the co
wardly guardsman.

  “Yahhhh!” Jihan shouted to get his attention.

  The guardsman turned to defend, and managed to parry twice before making the mistake of going high as Jihan repeated his low stroke. Jihan took the man in the groin then finished him with a strike that neatly decapitated him. Jihan felt rather than saw Luther strike. He fell face down and rolled completely on the defensive. On one knee he parried a blow meant to take his head, before managing to get back onto his feet. Going on the offensive again he struck to take Luther in the thigh, but the guardsman parried, and pain erupted in Jihan’s leg as it was sliced open. Jihan gasped in shock. He hadn’t seen it coming. Luther was grinning openly now that he had the upper hand. He pressed home the advantage and forced Jihan back, and back again.

  Jihan desperately retreated trying to protect his bad leg, but Luther went for it again. Jihan tried to pull it back to safety, and stumbled. Lucky he did as Luther’s blade missed the sudden unplanned move and left him open. Jihan lunged awkwardly from his prone position to skewer Luther through the belly.

  “AEiii!” Luther screamed and fell to his knee’s trying to stop his insides slopping out.

  “Why did you push me? Why!” Jihan shouted.

  Luther was too busy trying to gather up his guts to answer him.

  Jihan limped forward with his dagger drawn. “Do you want the grace Luther?”

  Luther couldn’t answer—the pain was too much. He nodded jerkily. Jihan limped forward and sent Luther to the God with a quick dagger thrust to the back of the neck and into the brain.

  “May the God watch over, and comfort you at journey’s end,” Jihan said wiping the dagger on Luther’s leg.

  Jihan limped over to the other guardsmen but both men were dead. He cut the sleeve from a shirt and used it to bind the wound in his leg. It was deep and had bled a good deal, but he could still use it. He thanked the God that Luther’s cut hadn’t been deeper and taken it. He didn’t have time to bury the bodies decently so he quickly cleaned his sword and mounted. Walking Jezy toward one of the other horses, he leaned forward to catch up its reins. Jihan rode from the scene of his first true battle.