Veilspeaker (Pharim War Book 2)

by Martinez, Gama Ray

  “Your Majesty, is this truly necessary? I have spoken to Chancellor Balud, and this boy has already been punished for his crime.”

  Lord Varin banged his fist on the table and shot to his feet. His face was red. Lina tugged on his sleeve to try to get him to sit back down, but he tore his arm away. “He assaulted my daughter and half a dozen others. For that, he was banished from his school for a few weeks. That’s not a punishment. That’s a vacation.”

  The king cleared his throat. Varin blinked. For a second, Jez thought he would actually shout at Haziel, but the lord inclined his head and sat down. He put a hand on Lina’s, and she smiled at him before glaring at Osmund, fear and anger mixed on her face.

  “He makes a good point, Villia,” the king said. “That punishment hardly fits the crime. Proceed.”

  “As you wish. The accused is Osmund Jecklson, retainer and guard to Baron Jezreel Dusanson,” Jez winced, but he let it pass. “His accuser is Lord Varin Durnson of Quintiar. Lord Varin, of what do you accuse him?”

  “He assaulted my daughter and her friends, all of them nobility. He wounded her with a magical sword that prevented her from healing.”

  “Do you have the names of those assaulted?”

  Varin looked surprised. “What?”

  “The names, Lord Varin. You can’t accuse someone of assaulting six nameless nobles. Give me their names or he will be tried as if they were commoners.”

  Varin looked at Lina. She let out a deep breath and rattled them off. Jez didn’t recognize most of them. Like Lina, they had left the Academy after Osmund had been readmitted. With every name, Osmund sank deeper into his chair. Saying them seemed to banish Lina’s fear, and with every one, her glare on Osmund intensified. When she was done, Villia nodded.

  “What happened?”

  “He attacked us,” Lina said. “He just turned into that thing and attacked us.”

  Jez was on his feet before he realized he was moving. “That’s not what happened!”

  Lina gave him a hard look. Unshed tears welled in her eyes. The illusion covering her scar had fallen away, though she didn’t seem to have noticed. Jez hadn’t realized how much the experience had affected her. He sat down, but Villia glared at him.

  “You will have a chance to speak, Baron. First, I want to hear Lady Lina’s story.” Jez nodded, and Villia turned back to Lina. “What thing did he transform into?”

  “It was this thing with wings and a flaming sword. He burned everyone around and cut me with the sword.”

  “Everyone? Wasn’t the baron there?”

  “No,” Lina said. “Well, yes, but he wasn’t the baron yet.”

  “Odd that he should choose a bodyguard who had so injured him.”

  “Well no, he wasn’t burned.”

  “I don’t see how any of this is relevant,” Lord Varin said.

  Villia stared at Varin, not looking away until Varin did. Some of the assembled nobles murmured to each other, though they all went silent when Varin glared at them.

  “I am simply trying to establish the facts.”

  “You know the facts. He assaulted my daughter.”

  “Why wasn’t the baron burned?”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Maybe all the difference in the world.” The mage looked at Jez. “Well, young Baron?”

  “They attacked him,” Jez said. “One of them, Regis, hit him in the head while his back was turned.”

  “So he was defending himself.”

  Lina shook her head, and Lord Varin looked like he was going to explode with anger. Before he could say anything, Osmund’s quiet voice cut in.

  “No.”

  Villia looked at him. “I’m sorry?”

  “No, I wasn’t defending myself. I lost control of Ziary, and he would’ve killed them.”

  “You see!” Lina cried. “He’s admitted it. Throw him in the dungeon. Throw him in and beat him until he can’t stand. It’s better than he deserves.”

  “Lady Lina,” Villia said in a level voice. “You will control yourself, or I will have you removed.”

  Again, Varin shot to his feet. “You would dare?”

  “The same goes for you, Lord Varin. I have all I need from the two of you. Be quiet or leave.”

  Lord Varin’s eyes bulged, and Lina looked like she was getting ready to scream, but Villia was already ignoring them and addressing Osmund. After a few seconds, Varin and Lina sat down.

  “Then, you are a limaph,” Villia said. Osmund nodded. “Can you transform at will?”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” Jez cried out. Once again, everyone looked at him. “I mean he can now, but he couldn’t then.”

  “Is that true?” Villia asked. Osmund nodded.

  “It’s also irrelevant,” Lord Varin said.

  “No, I don’t think it is. You don’t understand what the limaph are, Lord Varin. Osmund couldn’t have done what he did if it weren’t at least a little justified.”

  “He was justified in attacking my daughter? He could have killed her!”

  Villia sighed. “A poor choice of words. Regardless, a scion will rarely manifest unless it is provoked. That may be a mitigating factor.”

  “What do you mean ‘may be’?” the king asked.

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I just don’t know. I’ll need to see if there is a precedent for a scion committing a crime like this one. I recommend we break until tomorrow.”

  “What about him?” Varin asked waving his hand to the dejected Osmund sitting silently in the middle of the room.

  Villia inclined her head. “Osmund, will you swear not to leave the city, and to return to this room tomorrow at noon?”

  “What? You can’t just take his word.”

  Villia glared at him. “You forget yourself. Whatever else he may be, Osmund is an Academy trained mage, or at least he will be once his training is complete. That gives him certain rights. Among those are the right to have his sworn word believed by another mage.” That set the nobles to talking, but Villia silence them with a wave of her hand. She turned to Osmund. “Well?”

  Osmund only hesitated for a second before nodding. Villia glanced at the guards. They gave each other nervous looks, but when the king cleared his throat, they rushed to obey. Their commander, a tall woman with red hair, pulled a heavy iron key ring from a belt pouch and fiddled with the chains. Osmund rubbed his wrists as the manacles fell away. Lord Varin stormed out with Lina right beside him. Neither looked at Osmund as they passed. The king was speaking to Villia and waved for Jez to go. He and Osmund walked out together. He hoped Villia would stay true to her word, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be so easy.

  CHAPTER 8

  There was a knock at Jez’s door. He looked up from a chart of the nobility Sileon was explaining to him. Osmund nodded and went to open the door. The large boy just stared, his massive form obscuring the doorway.

  “Osmund, who is it?” Jez asked.

  Osmund looked over his shoulder and stepped out of the way. Lord Varin stood in the doorway. He glowered at Osmund before turning to meet Jez’s eyes. Jez’s jaw dropped. The nobleman cleared his throat and Jez looked at Osmund, unsure of what to do. Sileon stood up and bowed.

  “Lord Varin. Please come in.”

  Varin inclined his head and entered. Sileon glared at Jez, silently demanding that he call Varin to task for his lack of respect, but Jez ignored him. Varin strode to the table Jez was at, but Jez didn’t invite him to sit.

  “What do you want, Lord Varin?”

  “I wonder if I could speak to you.” He gave Sileon a pointed look before turning to Osmund and back to Jez. “Alone.”

  Jez narrowed his eyes. “I can’t really think of a reason I should do that.”

  He returned his attention to the chart until Varin put a hand on the parchment. Jez looked up and could tell Varin was trying to hide a scowl. He wasn’t doing a very good job, though.

  “Consider it a favor.” Varin glanced at Os
mund. “One that might be valuable enough that I would feel obligated to repay it with something equally valuable.”

  Jez met Osmund’s eyes. Villia had said she would help Osmund in the trial, but she hadn’t succeeded in doing anything but delaying it. If Varin agreed to drop the charges, all their problems could go away. Osmund’s brow wrinkled, and he nodded, indicating he realized the same thing. The larger boy let out a breath and turned to leave.

  “But my lord,” Sileon said, “I really should stay and—”

  “Go Sileon,” Jez said.

  “But—”

  “Go. Wait outside.” He waved at the chart. “We’ll finish this after I’m done with Lord Varin. It won’t take long.”

  Varin nodded. Sileon’s face reddened slightly, but he managed to regain his composure before it became too obvious. He bowed, first to Varin and then to Jez before leaving the room. Almost imperceptibly, the edges of Varin’s lips tightened in the faintest hint of a smile. Jez glared at him.

  “What do you want?”

  Varin looked down at the chair, but Jez still didn’t invite him to sit. After a minute of silence, Varin shrugged and sat down anyway.

  “I knew Dusan, you know. Before he became Baron of Korand.”

  A lump formed in Jez’s throat, and he tried not to let his nervousness show. He shook his head.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I would’ve been surprised if you did. Dusan always was a secretive man, but we did speak of certain things. Tell me, how did he die?”

  Varin raised an eyebrow, and Jez realized he’d slouched into his chair. He forced himself to sit up straight and look Varin in the eye. The small man didn’t even flinch, and Jez resisted the urge to bow his head.

  “I don’t really know any more than anyone else, my lord.” Varin smiled and Jez silently cursed himself. By calling Varin ‘my lord’, Jez had acknowledged Varin as a superior. Jez had had too many slips of the tongue since he’d arrived at court. He could recover from this one, but it was still happening far too often.

  “Come now,” Varin said. He reached into his doublet and pulled out a sheet of paper. Jez forced himself not to gasp. The paper had several of the runes Jez recognized from Dusan’s summoning chamber. “I don’t recognize all of them, but I understand enough to recognize this as the kind of working Dusan was best at. The rumors I’ve heard say he died due to a flawed working and that his magic backfired. Frankly, Baron,” he said the title so it almost sounded like a curse. “I don’t believe it. Dusan wouldn’t make that kind of mistake.”

  “Evil deeds always come back to haunt you,” Jez said. “Maybe he’d done so much evil that it fell in upon itself.”

  Varin rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one of these idealists. When I was at the Academy, they made sure to drum all of that foolishness out of us.”

  Jez almost snorted. He’d known a few people at the Academy who thought that way, but almost everyone else thought they were fools. Instead, he shrugged. “Dusan is dead, isn’t he? How else do you explain it?”

  Varin nodded. “So he is.” He examined Jez for several seconds before nodding. “Let me put this in a way you can understand. Tell me about Dusan’s death. Tell me what he was doing, and why he really failed.” He tapped the images on the nobility chart. “Tell me of any other runes he used. Tell me if anyone interfered and any other details you can think of. If I judge it enough, I will go to Haziel and drop all charges. Your friend is being charged for one crime, attacking six nobles. Only Lina is here, and I can still legally speak for her. If I declare that we will not pursue this matter, your friend will be exonerated not only of attacking her, but of assaulting all the rest.”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Too late, Jez realized his mistake. Jez stopped talking, but Varin was already smiling. A hungry look appeared in his eyes, much like a child eager from a new toy. After a second, Jez let out a long breath and straightened. “I’m sorry. The mages who found Dusan’s ritual chamber destroyed it precisely to prevent others from learning what he’d done. I can’t tell you any more than that.”

  Lord Varin glared. He got up to leave but stopped in the doorway. “I would advise you to reconsider. You would do well to have me as an ally.”

  Jez glared at him and remembered when Dusan had tried to make alliance with him at the end. Jez had been tempted then, but he’d learned his lesson.

  “I’ve had offers like that before.”

  Varin inclined his head. This time it did bother Jez, and he was on the verge of saying something when Varin turned his back. As soon as he’d left the room, Sileon walked in. He stared after Lord Varin.

  “Sileon,” Varin said without turning around. “Have you made your decision?”

  Sileon looked over his shoulder and nodded, though Varin didn’t turn to see it. The advisor bowed once to Jez.

  “My lord, I regret to inform you I will be leaving your employ and taking up service with Lord Varin.”

  “What?”

  “An excellent decision. I will have you knighted before the end of the day. Then we can move you into accommodations more suited for someone of your station.” This time Varin did turn and met Jez’s gaze. “Think very carefully before you decide to make me an enemy. There is much I can take from you.”

  Then, he walked away, with Sileon following on his heels. As soon as they had turned a corner, Osmund poked his head in the doorway. He looked at the departing pair over his shoulder before turning back to Jez.

  “What was that about?”

  “Varin hired Sileon.”

  “Hired him to do what?”

  Jez blinked at him. “I have no idea. I think it was to get him away from me so he couldn’t help.”

  Osmund rolled his eyes. “It’s not like he did much anyway.”

  “He talked to people,” Jez said. “He knew who to talk to. I don’t even know who to see if I want to speak to the king. We need to see Villia.”

  “Why?”

  “Sileon knew Villia was helping us. When he tells Varin, I have no idea what he’ll do.”

  “I’ll go tell her you want to see her.”

  “We’ll both go,” Jez said.

  Osmund shook his head. “I don’t know much about court politics, but it’s pretty obvious you shouldn’t be setting up your own meetings. I’ll go.”

  “How’s that any better than me going? You’re supposed to be my bodyguard not my messenger.”

  “Do you want to send one of those people Sileon hired?”

  Jez snorted. “Only if we wanted Varin to find out about it.”

  Osmund spread his arms. “It’s not like we have very many options.”

  Jez thought for a second before nodding. “All right. Go. Tell her I need to see her as soon as possible.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Jez was looking over some the charts Sileon had left when Sharim burst into the room. His face was flushed, and he was breathing heavily. Sweat gleamed on his brow.

  “Sharim, what is it?”

  He held up his hand as he caught his breath. Then, as if realizing what he was doing, his eyes widened and he bowed.

  “Forgive me for the intrusion, Baron. Your bodyguard came to me looking for Mage Villia.”

  “Yes. You didn’t have to run. Is she ready to see me?”

  “No, that’s just it,” Sharim said between heavy breaths. “She’s not in the keep. She went into town to get supplies. I told him he could wait, but he insisted on finding her. He was assaulted in the streets. He’s with the healers now.”

  Jez shot to his feet. “What? Is he okay? What happened?”

  “I don’t know. The healers say he’ll be all right. They were taking care of the worst of his wounds when I left.”

  “Show me the way.”

  He hadn’t been to the sick chambers so Sharim led him through a maze of corridors. Jez tried to keep track of the way, but he couldn’t focus and kept prodding Sharim to go faster. Finally, they entered a l
ong room lined with beds along each wall. It smelled clean, and the faint scent of soap still hung in the air. Tall windows illuminated the room. Only a single bed was occupied, and Osmund’s long legs hung over the end of the bed. A bruise covered half his face. He smiled when he saw Jez, and he had a gap in his teeth. A woman in a brown robe with a yellow sash stood over him, her hands emitting a soft light that reminded Jez of the sun. The bruise started to fade, but when the healer stopped a portion of it remained.

  “There,” she said. “I don’t want to send anymore magic through you.” She turned to Jez. “Don’t give him undue stress. He still needs rest.”

  Jez nodded.

  “Thank you Mage...”

  “Paleel,” she said as she brushed an auburn strand of hair away from her face. “Though you’re generous to label me a mage. I’m a simple healer.”

  Jez inclined his head. “Thank you all the same, Paleel.”

  She blushed. “I’ll be in the next room if you need me.”

  She scurried away and Jez went to stand by his friend. Osmund gave him a weak smile and took a cup of water sitting near his bed. He drank before sitting up.

  “What happened?” Jez asked.

  “They came at me from behind. There were only three at first. Then, half a dozen more appeared out of nowhere.”

  “Why didn’t you transform?”

  Osmund smirked. “Transform to fight off half a dozen common footpads? As if I needed that.” He looked down at a bandaged wrapping his hand and grimaced. “At least I thought I didn’t need it. I was afraid to use magic too. I thought that would only make things worse for us.”

  Jez nodded once and leaned in closer to the bed, trying to ignore the shivers running down his back. Whatever else Osmund might be, he was still a skilled battlemage, and it would’ve taken far more than a handful of common thugs to do him any lasting harm.