by Guy Antibes
“That’s the link for you. The Moonstone link is something really special. It’s always between a man and a woman. I met your mother and father after they had married, so I can’t really help you there. I always had the impression that your parents were in love with each other before they linked. Your father told me about the link once and there were the physical changes that you two had. Both of them became bigger and stronger, even your mother. Your father mentioned the link as a feeling where two people became one. They knew each other’s thoughts. I remember that, clearly. If the duke wanted your mother to know something, all he did was concentrate. I saw him do that a number of times. I don’t recall him mentioning any headaches or weakness. I can’t help you any more than that except that they were both trained sorcerers and knew how to shield themselves and everything.
“Maybe we aren’t linked in the same way, then. If I give it some time, perhaps the link will fade away. It’s only been a few years.”
“Maybe so,” Kenyr said, but Lotto didn’t see a reassuring look in his friend’s eyes.
Lotto looked at the lengthening shadows. “I must get back to the castle. I’m in training. Maybe if you are free we could work out together.”
“I’d like that. You don’t know all of my tricks,” Kenyr said laughing. His faced turned serious as Lotto moved to the door of the tent. “May the gods give you strength.”
“I’ll need more than that.”
All of this time, Lotto had played out whatever fate had dealt him, but he’d been unprepared for the romantic complications that ran through his head and now he’d succeeded in alienating his commander in the field. But then what right did Restella have to claim his life and his feelings? As he stepped through the castle gate, he felt the near-physical blow of Restella’s presence at the castle entrance, dressed in her military uniform. He needed the god’s strength right now!
“Come with me.” She turned and left him standing on the steps as he recovered from the intensity of the link.
She led him up to the empty war room. She had her back to him looking down at her map of Happly. She turned around and they both recoiled from the force of the link.
“Leave the castle and Beckondale as soon as you can. I don’t care how late or how early in the morning. I want you out of here.”
Lotto blinked at the emotion searing him through the link. It wasn’t anger, like he thought. Restella was hurt. Her emotions were giving her great pain.
“I heard your training with Fessano is over. Head back to the town of Harveston. Don’t go back to Crackledown. You’ll stay there long enough to gather your Gensler rangers. They are good men. Fessano is assembling five battle mages that will accompany you into Happly.”
“Why not Crackledown? I could go over the plans with the duke.”
Restella answered him with a withering glare. The link, if anything had gotten stronger. She didn’t answer his question but said, “Go.” He could barely hear the word, but he saluted Restella and left.
Mander met him outside in the hallway with his characteristic sly grin. “I don’t know how any man can put an edge on the woman better than you.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Lotto said as he walked past knowing that Mander would catch up. “She ordered me not to go to Crackledown. The duke should know what we’re going to do.”
“Is there any wonder?” Mander had the temerity to laugh. “I’ll send a bird. The town is Harveston?” His mentor shook his head and said, sadly, “You’ve really got her reeling, my boy. I support her decision to move you out. She can’t think straight. You and the two princesses. What a dilemma and this is no time to even try to fix it. We’ll have to work with what we’ve got.”
Mander ended up walking with him through the streets of Beckondale.
“Could you send someone for my horse and maybe a packhorse so I can take some supplies?” Lotto said.
“More birds, but they’ll be yours. You’ll get two cages. One for Piroff and one for the charmed crate that Restella will have, although I think she’ll give it to Captain Silver.”
“Why?”
Mander shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps she’s head over heels in love, Lotto. The problem is she doesn’t understand her relationship with you and that puts you in jeopardy. Her way of dealing with emotions is to fight against them. When she didn’t and she offered you a hand in friendship, that’s when the dreams ended, didn’t they?”
Lotto nodded yet again. He felt like a chicken pecking grain. “I don’t love her, Mander. She’s never affected me like Sally did.”
“I know, you told me, but that’s an issue you’ll have to work out on your own, later. I can’t offer you any advice. I love my Anna, but look how I have to treat her.”
Lotto looked at his mentor. “You don’t, you know. If everyone knows you’re married, she’s at the same risk. It’s not that big of a secret.”
Mander’s eyebrows rose. “No one has told me that before.”
“They’re probably afraid of you.”
“And you aren’t, Lotto?”
“No. You mentioned love. I love you as if you were my own father.” Lotto nearly choked on the words. Why did he have to get so emotional—residue of the link, perhaps? However he’d always admired Mander, more than any other. Next came Kenyr and Gully. He thought of Sally and a different kind of feeling came, but somehow it didn’t compare to the men who had shaped his emergence. Fessano might be added to the list. Fathers all. He had one surrogate mother, Jessie and she now was as far away from him as his real mother. Mander’s Anna was, still, just a friend.
They finally arrived at the bookshop. “Here’s where I’ll leave you, Lotto. Your horse and supplies should be here in an hour or so.” Mander put out his arms and the two embraced in a hug. “Use your mind first, Lotto, but don’t let your heart be far behind. You know the plan better than I. Good luck, though I know you won’t need it and don’t worry so much about the princess. I sent her a little present that she’ll receive in the field.” He laughed, clapping Lotto on his shoulders, and sauntered off.
Lotto stood in the bookshop wondering if Mander had misplaced his confidence and Restella’s little present just mystified him. His mentor certainly played his own game, but Lotto had no doubt that Mander acted in the best interests of Valetan.
The afternoon sun slanted in making the dust motes dance in the light. He blew them away and watched them cavort some more. Is that what we all did—move with the slightest breeze? Is that what he did with Sally and Restella? He’d have to think of his problem on the road south, since he wouldn’t be able to solve anything daydreaming in the shop.
He looked through the books of magic that Mander had originally given him. Lotto hadn’t gone through all of them before he signed up for the army. He thumbed through the old folio and found that it talked of magic as a creative force and that mundane spells could be used for extraordinary purposes. The concept felt right.
He pulled out his little handbook and read through the spells and thought of his own experimenting in Prola. He made a few notes in the margins about new applications, so he could do some thinking on his way back to Gensler.
~~~
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
~
THE MESSENGER SALUTED AS HE ENTERED General Piroff’s office. General Reallo put his hand up for the message, but he placed it Restella’s hands.
“What message do you have?” Reallo felt a bit peeved about reading the message to the two generals.
“Lotto Mistad has left the city.” Restella said. The sky hadn’t even begun to darken and he had certainly taken her orders to heart. She had expected another horrible night dreaming of him and she realized that now she didn’t even need the Moonstone to feel the pull of the link towards the south.
“I hear you ordered him to stay away from Crackledown,” Piroff said.
She frowned at the amusement in the general’s voice. “The town of Harveston is on the best road into Happly. We haven’t
prepared our battle wizards yet and he is to meet up with Gensleran scouts first.”
“Do you think he can do it?” Reallo said.
Restella shrugged. Did she even care? Perhaps his death would end the torment that she felt and yet she shuddered at the thought of him getting hurt. She hated the conflict of feelings. “We need to reduce the number of wizards that the Duke of Happly employs in his army or we won’t stand a chance. We need Lotto to attack the Ropponi wizards and then any others in Happly.” She turned to Piroff. “Can you spare any more troops from Oringia?”
Piroff lifted a piece of paper. Restella looked at the writing and it looked like a supplies list rather than a message, but then he said, “Happly expected an Oringian contingent, but Shortwell went ahead and intercepted them. Oringia is on the run.” Piroff didn’t seem very pleased with Shortwell. “I can’t take any troops out now that he’s got them retreating. I imagine his army will delay any Oringians thinking about reinforcing Happly.” Piroff didn’t seem exultant about Shortwell’s success.
“What about new troops?”
Reallo laughed. “They will only feed the swords of our enemy. We will train them for another month and then let them return to their farms for the harvest. But they will remember enough so we won’t have to train an army in the spring.”
Why was it always the spring? If men were willing to kill each other, why did they stop campaigning in the winter? Certainly the conditions were severe, but they were severe for all. Perhaps Restella didn’t measure up as a noble and rejected their silly protocols.
“So I’m on my own?”
“I hardly count nearly two thousand troops as being on your own, Captain-General.” Piroff said and then sighed. “Mander Hart said he had some ideas, but he wouldn’t share them. I don’t trust the man, never have.”
“That’s because he’s smarter than the three of us combined and he knows how to use that intelligence,” Restella said. She’d never voiced or even thought much of Mander Hart, but her words rang true in her mind. She trusted him more than the two men in front of her.
“Enough of that talk, Captain-General,” Piroff said. His face filled with a moment’s anger until he controlled it.
“Yes, sir.” She tried to look intimidated, but these men didn’t intimidate her like Lotto Mistad did. Sir Mistad. Her father had refused to take his title away even though she had insisted. She knew her request was petty and she felt ashamed for making it. As far as she could get was her father’s concurrence that Lotto’s immediate return to Gensler to continue his Happly preparations made military sense.
~
The inn at Harveston didn’t look any different as mid-summer approached, but then why would it? Lotto had ridden through the town, without stopping a little more than a month ago, heading back to Beckondale. He tied up his two horses at the hitching post in the inn’s courtyard as Heartwell, the innkeeper came out to greet him.
“Lotto Mistad! So you’re back.”
“Did you have a successful trip in the south?”
“I’ve been to Crackledown, further south, nearly to the border and then I returned to Crackledown on my way back to Beckondale and now I’m staying here for a week or so, if you’ll have me.”
Heartwell put his finger to his nose. “You stay as long as you like. I’m with you all the way.”
Lotto smiled at Heartwell’s excitement at being a conspirator. “I’m waiting for ten men. Five are Gensleran scouts and five men from Beckondale. We have a mission.”
“Histo or Happly?”
Lotto put his own finger to the side of his nose, “I’m sworn to secrecy!” He had to keep from laughing at the serious look on Heartwell’s face.
“The mercenaries have slowed to a trickle. This is a slow period since most farmers are tending to their planted crops and merchants won’t be buying for another month, so you can use the inn as your keep.” Heartwell smiled and rubbed his hands. “If there is anything I can do for you…”
“Don’t tell anyone that I’m here. Just have them sit in the common room and get me. I can verify if they are in my group.”
“Of course, of course.” Heartwell called for the redheaded groom. “Take care of this man’s horses and feed the birds. “
The boy groaned. “Not more birds, sir.”
Lotto flipped him a penny. “One of those every day, just for you.”
His frown flipped around to a smile. “Yes, sir, happily sir.”
Heartwell showed him upstairs to a larger room that looked out on the street, so he could spot his friends easier. Lotto liked the room because it had better light for studying the folio and his field spell book. He opened the one he had been studying in Beckondale and learned more about the principles of using power to shake the earth. That would be a better way of toppling trees. He wondered why magicians didn’t clear farmland that way. Maybe it took too much power. If it didn’t, perhaps he could make a breach in a castle wall.
He took out some paper and an inkbottle and a quill and began taking notes. He’d have plenty of questions ready for the battle wizards when they arrived. In the meantime, he’d tromp through the fields to the woods to the west and try out the spells. Lotto didn’t see the point of scaring the good people of Harveston.
After four days, with the concepts of the folio, he’d created some interesting effects with his spells. He started when someone pounded on his door. He rose and grabbed his sword before opening up the door slightly.
A body slammed against the door, throwing Lotto back, he held up his weapon, ready to fight.
“Put that down!” Morio Jellas said. “Come on in boys.”
The five rangers that Lotto caroused with at the Duke’s palace filled Lotto’s room.
“We’ve come to save you.”
“I didn’t expect you. Morio.”
The duke’s son shrugged. “When the boys told me there’s a good fight brewing in Happly, how could I refuse?”
Lotto felt heartened by the man’s presence. He always seemed larger than life and their campaign would certainly take on a more festive air.
“Let me buy you all a drink,” Lotto said.
Heartwell poked his head around the door. “Is everything all right?”
“Drinks! Then we’ll be all right.” Morio laughed and put his arm around Lotto’s shoulders. “Just put the sword away, okay? Someone might get poked!”
Heartwell held his hands to his chest as the Gensleran scouts grabbed his arms as they walked down the stairs.
“They are who I waited for,” Lotto said. “I suppose you’ll make a lot of money tonight, for they know how to have a good time.”
“Do we!” Anton Whisperwood said.
Lotto led them to a corner of the common room where they had less chance of being overheard and less chance of bothering Heartwell’s patrons.
“So I heard of your exploits in Happly and that you met my friend, Gully Workman,” Lotto said. “Why don’t you tell me your version of the story? Gully’s been with Captain-General Beecher’s troops at the border.”
An hour later and after three rounds of drinks, they had brought each other current. Morio had been silent about Princess Sallia.
“I’ll wait for the wizards from Valetan to talk about our strategy. You won’t remember a thing I say tomorrow morning, anyway.” Lotto said, laughing along with his friends. He felt at home among them. Mander, Kenyr and Fessano were like fathers, but these men were like brothers, except he wished Gully sat at the table. Then his band would be complete.
Morio crowded a little closer to Lotto, when a woman bard began to sing in the common room. “I have news of the princess.”
Lotto’s heart flipped a little.
“She’s written to that Anchor fellow, the one who nearly died the day you saved her. I think you have a rival for the woman’s affections.”
“I don’t know how much affection Princess Sallia had for me. I’m just a common soldier.”
“You’re the first son
of a duke and a Knight of Valetan. That would be enough for anybody. But there was something between the two. There are linked somehow. Not like you and your princess, but, I don’t know! I certainly failed to pique her interest.” Morio laughed, but Lotto didn’t share in the amusement.
“She is well and Anchor has recovered?”
“The man only wrote to the princess. Father shipped him out to join Travelwell at South Keep. That’s just off the road to Happly from the Red Kingdom and not too far from Learsea. I’d count it as a dangerous place to be in these times, but Anchor looked forward to it. He sent a message of thanks to my father as well.”
Lotto snorted. “I have no claim on Sally.”
“She really let you call her by that name? She didn’t let me!” Morio winked at him and took a drink.
“All the way to Crackledown and she asked me to use the name when we were alone in your father’s castle.”
Morio shook his head. “I don’t understand women. Wait, I do understand women when they bat their eyelashes at me. By the way, what are the serving maids like here?”
The man had charm, of that Lotto couldn’t deny. “I’ve kept to my rooms, so I don’t know.”
Morio rubbed his hands when a maid appeared.
“Dinnertime, for you lot. We have some fresh venison stew that Master Heartwell recommends.”
“Then it’s stew for everybody,” Morio said giving the woman a huge grin and puffing out his chest. The other men just laughed at him and shook their heads at Morio’s antics.
After they had eaten, Lotto told them that tomorrow they’d go into the forest and he would show them some of his new tricks.
~~~
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
~
THE DAY DAWNED GRAY AND MISTY. Restella had noticed groups of farmers already out in their fields as they broke camp at a crossroads. In this section of Valetan, farmers worked together tending the fields in large groups and moved from field to field until all of the crops were tended.
