Twice he heard the warning bell and returned just in time to reinforce the gate, though in fact by now the gate itself was naught but splinters. Only his earthen wall was preventing the city from being completely overrun. The problem was, the spell needed to make it strong enough to resist the constant pounding, unlike that used for the ground fires, was highly complicated. Both visits drained his resources even further.
By now, the men would cheer loudly or call greetings whenever he approached. Though frightened at first, they’d soon come to realize that Lynial was the only reason the city was not already in ashes and her people slaughtered.
It was as he dragged his collapsing body to the gates for a third time that he heard the sound he had been praying for. It was trumpet a call from the north – barely audible over all the pounding and shouting, but definitely there all the same. The men atop the ramparts heard it as well.
Numerous cries quickly sprang up. “The queen! The queen has returned!”
A puzzled frown formed on Lynial’s face. The queen? He’d assumed that she had been holed up in her palace all day. In fact, he’d been quite put out that she had not sent some word to him. She must have been informed of his arrival. Until this moment he had thought her cowardly.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he cast a levitation spell to get a look. From the north, a steady stream of Al’ Theonan banners were rushing into the fray. When he was high enough, he could see a contingent of silver clad warriors surrounding a woman in gleaming gold armor. A silver circlet on her brow caught the afternoon sun, giving her a somewhat mystical aura. Lynial smiled. This was a queen who truly knew how to inspire her men.
The enemy was pulling back and scrambling to put up a defensive formation, though to little effect. The speed and ferocity of the Al’ Theonans drove through their line as if it were made from nothing more than the thinnest of parchments. It was thrilling to watch, but Lynial could already feel fatigue washing over him. Even maintaining this simple spell was more than he could take in his condition.
Once back on the ground, he found the captain at the gate.
“The enemy is pulling back, My Lord,” he said. “We did it!”
Lynial smiled. “Yes captain. You did.”
It was true. He had already seen when elevated that the remaining silent ones were not moving to engage the oncoming Al’ Theonans. Rather, they were marching steadily away from the city. He couldn’t help but be impressed by how quickly they formed ranks. Normal humans would have been in utter disarray. But these…men. They came together as if guided by some invisible force.
By the time the sun was sinking over the horizon, the rest of the enemy was in full retreat. Wisely, the queen did not order any pursuit. Lynial allowed the earthen barrier to crumble, along with the remaining few bits of the ruined gate.
This done, he waited patiently for the queen to enter the city. However, it soon became evident that she was in no hurry to do so. He thought to seek her out, but was by now on the very point of collapse. Eventually, he requested to be shown to the guard’s barracks. They were happy to comply, and every soldier he passed along the way gave him a respectful bow and salute.
With the city’s inhabitants gradually emerging from their homes, he could hear various accounts of the day’s deeds being exchanged. Tales of the mage savior had already been put to song. One that caught his ear used the name of Ethan Dragonvein, citing him as the hero. Lynial laughed inwardly. Praxis would have been outraged and corrected them immediately. His father on the other hand would have said: Great men do great deeds for the sake of others. Not for praise and cheers. That was possibly true, but there was still enough of his uncle in him to want to make a point of spreading his name about the city…later.
By the time he reached the barracks, he was actually fighting to keep his eyes open. The interior was as one would expect – sparsely furnished with only rows of bunks and a few tables scattered about. Not that he cared. At that moment, it looked as welcoming as the most lavish palace apartment. A young soldier showed him to an empty bunk and bowed before leaving.
Lynial plopped down heavily, not bothering to remove his clay-covered boots. A deep, dreamless sleep took him before he had exhaled his first breath.
* * * * *
He woke to find that a fresh set of clothes together with a bowl of fruit and a bottle of wine had been placed on a table just beside his bunk. That he had slept through someone placing these items there, not to mention the moving of the quite heavy table, was a testament to how utterly exhausted he had been. Normally he was a very light sleeper, instantly awake at the slightest sound.
He found his joints and muscles were still aching quite badly when he sat up to stretch. With the dim morning light coming through the narrow windows being the only illumination, he laid back down and closed his eyes again. The sounds drifting in from outside were the reassuring normal bustle of people and animals – nothing to suggest that danger had returned. Perhaps a bit more rest, he considered. He had certainly earned it.
No sooner had this pleasing thought formed when the barrack room door squeaked open on rusty hinges. Next came the sound of booted feet scraping across the floor. Heaving a sigh, Lynial opened his eyes and saw a rather overweight man bearing a metal basin approaching. Steam rose from within. After placing the basin on the floor beside the table, he bowed low.
“Forgive me if I have disturbed your sleep, Lord Dragonvein,” he said.
Lynial rubbed his face and sat up. “Not at all.”
“I have brought you some bath water,” he continued. “I am also to inform you that more suitable accommodations and fitting attire awaits you at the palace as soon as you are ready. Meanwhile, Captain Lofille insisted that you be provided with the clothes you see on the table. He apologizes, but it was all he had available that would fit you.”
“Captain Lofille?”
“He was in command at the gate.”
Lynial nodded. “Ah yes, of course. Thank you.” When the man made no attempt to leave, he added: “Was there something else?”
“I just wanted to thank you personally,” he said, shuffling his feet in an awkward manner. “The captain has told us of how you saved the whole city. I have a wife and four children. If the Empire had broken through…”
Lynial held up his hand. “It’s quite all right. I only helped. You should really be thanking the soldiers who stood on the wall – and your queen for returning in time to drive the enemy away. They all fought bravely, and without the powers of a mage.”
“That’s not how the captain tells it, My Lord. He said that if you hadn’t come, we’d all be dead by now.” The man looked comical shifting his massive girth about like a child meeting his hero.
Lynial couldn’t prevent a smile from forming. “You are welcome. Now, if you don’t mind, I am hungry and in desperate need of the hot water you have brought.”
“Of course, My Lord.” He backed away several feet, bowing repeatedly, then turned and hurried to the door.
“One more thing,” Lynial called out after him. “Who did Captain Lowfille say I am?”
The man cocked his head, as if astonished at the question. “Why, Lord Lynial Dragonvein, of course. The greatest mage in all of Lumnia.”
Lynial’s smile returned broader than ever as he waved a dismissive hand. Yes, he acknowledged to himself, it was petty. And yes, it was his ego. Though he could almost hear his father scolding him, he did still have a part of his uncle in him too.
“Be quiet, father,” he said, chuckling. “Surely I deserve at least a small portion of praise.”
The warm water was refreshing, though he longed for a tub large enough to fully immerse himself in. After donning the clothes Captain Lowfille had provided and finishing the meal, he exited the barracks. Two soldiers awaited him just outside.
“The queen would see you right away,” said one of the men.
Lynial looked down at the simple tan trousers and shirt he was now wearing. Not exact
ly the attire he would choose for making first introductions to a monarch. It would have to do, however. Groaning inwardly, he pasted on a smile. “Certainly,” he told the soldier. “Lead on.”
As they wound their way through the streets, more songs about the battle and of the mighty mage who saved the city could clearly be heard coming from within the taverns.
“A bit early in the day for strong drink,” he remarked.
“Soldiers like us, mostly,” said the man to his left. “Some of them are just getting off duty.”
The colonnade leading up to the palace’s main entrance was full of people and abuzz with activity. The moment they began ascending the steps, a young man in silk finery scurried down to meet them.
“Lord Dragonvein?” he asked.
Lynial nodded.
He bowed low. “I am Vinix. Queen Berathis has assigned me to be your personal attendant during your stay with us.”
“Thank you, Vinix. But I do not think I will be staying long.”
Vinix rubbed his chin and regarded him from head to toe. “Long enough to attend a feast in your honor, I would hope.” After another lengthy look, he smiled. “Yes, I think I have you exactly.” He turned and beckoned a trio of older men who were standing just by the threshold. After a short, hushed conversation, he returned his attention to Lynial. “Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me, the queen does not like to be kept waiting.”
Lynial followed him into the palace and through a series of opulent chambers and broad corridors. He took particular note of the décor. Much of it harkened back to his own time, allowing him to recognize several of the figures depicted in the statues and paintings. It made him think of his old home in Traxis. Though far from a palace like this, his father had been a man who very much enjoyed collecting works of art and beauty. It made Lynial wonder if perhaps some of those treasures still survived.
They passed through a marble arch leading into a small, open-air garden. In spite of the late season, many of the flowers were in bloom, and the thick, perfectly manicured grass was soft beneath his feet. So tempting was it he had to suppress an impulse to remove his boots and walk along its lush surface barefoot.
Just as this thought was passing through his mind, a young, raven-haired woman entered from the opposite side. Wearing in only a loose-fitting linen dress and slippers, she was carrying a sturdy leather book in both hands. Were it not for the thin circlet of silver beset with diamonds resting on her brow, she would have appeared to be of no more importance than a house servant – albeit a highly attractive one.
She smiled over at Lynial and curtsied. “My Lord Dragonvein. I am so very happy you have come. You must forgive my attire, but I just couldn’t bring myself to put on something more stately. Not after so many weeks of wearing that awful heavy armor. You would not believe the number of blisters it has given me.”
Lynial gave her a formal bow. “Your Highness. Considering what I wear myself, I am more than relieved to see you thus.”
“You look just fine,” she assured him, at the same time setting herself down on a cushioned, wrought iron seat close to a row of lilies. A bowl of nuts and a pitcher sat upon a table beside her. She motioned to an empty seat alongside. “Would you join me? I am still weary from travel.”
Lynial did as requested. “I must admit, I too was loathe to rise this morning,” he told her.
“I can imagine. If half of what they say is true, you must be utterly exhausted.”
Lynial chuckled. “I expect much has been exaggerated. I merely kept the enemy at bay for a time. Had you not arrived when you did, the city would have been lost.”
The queen frowned. “Yes. I considered we needed to leave more men behind, but my commanders insisted there was no danger. And as for that fool of a captain…” She shook her head. “Not the best of my men, I assure you. A high-ranking secretary, really. Not a proper soldier at all.”
“That much is certain,” Lynial agreed. “But Captain Lowfille should be commended, nonetheless. Despite his lack of training, he showed courage. And when put to the task, he did his duty well. He is the one largely responsible for preventing the enemy from breaching the gates.”
The queen raised a delicate eyebrow. “Is that so? Then I shall see that he receives the recognition he deserves.” After placing the book she was still holding on the table, she steepled her hands beneath her chin. “But I did not bring you here to discuss the defense of the city. Those songs will be sung tonight at a banquet in your honor.”
He thought to object, but then decided to leave that for later. Likely she would only insist over his objections that he attend. “Then what can I do for you, Your Highness?” he said instead.
“Please. When we are alone you may call me Bera. It’s what my friends called me when I was a child. We are to be kin, after all.”
Lynial nodded. “Yes. I heard about that.”
“Have you any objections?”
Lynial thought carefully about his next words. “I think you could make a fine wife and companion for my cousin.”
Bera laughed softly. “Yes. I will.” She reached over and fingered the book absently. “When my father realized that I was to be the heir to his throne, he saw to it that I was well schooled in the art of diplomacy. He taught me to see deceit in the eyes of others, and how to detect deception in their words and posture. He wanted to be sure that I would not be at a disadvantage when speaking with other nobles. It was, as he told me many times, very important to him that I would be capable of maintaining the wealth and status of the family.”
“It sounds like he was a good man,” remarked Lynial.
Bera sniffed. “He was a pig. He cursed the fact that I was a woman. He cursed my mother for bearing me. That there was no male heir to his throne brought shame on him – that I brought shame on him. He taught me because there was no one else.”
Though her words were hard, Lynial detected no sign of anger. Such self-control was impressive. “Things were much different in my time,” he said. “Men and women were considered equals. In fact, there were just as many queens as there were kings outside of the mage houses.”
“And what about within them?”
Lynial shrugged. “Such things were of little importance. We did not rule in the same way as you do. Mage families were always led by the eldest, regardless of gender; though not perhaps in the way you might think. We did not dictate to one another. Only in matters concerning the whole family was the mantle of leadership important. And those instances were rare.”
“That is not what history tells us,” she retorted. “I have read that mage houses were often in conflict with one another. And that they commanded the monarchs of Lumnia as if they were mere vassals.”
“That might have been true once,” he admitted. “But the Council of Volnar ended most of those oppressive traditions many generations before I was born. From then on, we did our best to stay out of royal affairs. So long as the kings and queens of Lumnia kept the peace, they were free to rule however they chose.”
“So you became more like parents looking after unruly children,” she said, giving a sharp sniff of contempt. “Well, I can tell you that this will not be the case once Shinzan is defeated. Al’ Theona will be free. I will make certain of that.”
“Is that why you insisted on wedding my cousin?”
“My reasons are my own, Lord Dragonvein.” This time her irritation did seep out.
“Your reasons are obvious, Your Highness. You wish to establish your reign and ensure your lands and people are protected.”
“There is more to it than that,” she insisted. “The mages are returning. And I will not allow Al’ Theona to come under their influence.”
“And you think marrying a mage will prevent this?”
“Not just any mage,” she corrected. “I will be wed to the mage who defeated Shinzan. Through him, both my kingdom and my family line will be forever secure.”
“And what happens when Ethan doesn’t marry
you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “He has given me his word. And should he break it, he will find that I am not one so easily cast aside. Do not underestimate me, Lord Dragonvein. That would be a fatal mistake.”
Lynial smiled. “I have no doubt about that. Nevertheless, you will not wed my cousin. And were I you, I would not want to do so.”
“And why is that?”
“For one, he loves another.”
She flicked her wrist. “And what of it? She is the heir to the throne of Ralmaria, as well as a mage. She can find someone else to fill her bed easily enough.”
Lynial regarded her closely. He had no desire to enrage the queen, but allowing this to continue could be disastrous. A woman with her skill and keen mind would present a very real problem in the future after finding herself deceived. Wars had been waged over far less. And Bera would not be cowed or manipulated.
“Your Highness,” he said, his voice low and measured. “I must beg you to forget this.”
“And why should I?” she demanded. “Because I am not a mage?”
Before Lynial could respond, her hand shot up to silence him. “Don’t bother denying it. I know how your kind feel about those who do not use magic. You think us lesser beings. The thought of mixing our blood with yours repulses you.” She rose from her chair, her back straight and head held high. “In case it has escaped your notice, Lumnia has changed. The number of mages remaining is nowhere near enough for you to enforce your will on everyone as you once did.”
“Lumnia has indeed changed,” he agreed. “And you are right. Mages of my time would have found it repugnant to marry with someone not of magical blood. A failing, to be sure. And one I shared back then. But as you have pointed out, there are so few of us left. Should I wish my line to continue, then I would surely be compelled to choose a woman who is not a mage.”
A sly grin inched its way up from the corner of the queen’s mouth. “Perhaps not. You could always wed Katyana. With Ethan at my side, she would surely be amenable to such a match. And no doubt her father would approve as well. Think of it. You could father the first Dragonvein mage in five hundred years.”
Dragonvein Book Five Page 18
