The Sleeping King

by Cindy Dees

  “Do not be aggrieved. She is still considered to be one of the great beauties of these lands.”

  Perfect. Charlotte still won. Thanks to inheriting her face, Raina wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without being recognized. Impotent fury at the misfortune of her birth burned through her yet again.

  “How did you come to be in Dupree in the company of a kindari warrior?”

  She sighed. “My journey began in Tyrel. My mother announced to me unexpectedly that she had arranged a … relationship … for me. I did not agree to it but was informed that I had no choice in the matter. As I was not willing to accede to my mother’s wishes, I left.”

  “You ran away.”

  She nodded reluctantly.

  “So it is your mother you run from?”

  Close enough. Her mother and her mother’s partners in crime. She nodded again.

  “And your kindari protector?”

  “He joined me largely by chance and has been kind enough to see me safely to Dupree.” Eager to move past the tricky spot regarding Cicero’s credentials, she continued, “We disembarked at the Dupree harbor, where I literally bumped into Kendrick on the dock. It was purely accidental that we crossed paths. We traveled across the city as a group while my companion and I gained our bearings. Since Cicero and I saw that war party of orcs running north, we have not wished to travel alone—”

  “What war party of orcs?” Hyland burst out.

  To her surprise, Cicero dived in to answer, “Boki. Two dozen. Led by a thane, moving north fast by night toward the Forest of Thorns. They passed up multiple targets of opportunity without attacking. My impression was that they were returning home as quickly as they could.”

  “What were they doing off their lands in the first place?” Hyland demanded. “They never leave the Forest of Thorns.”

  “These ones did.” Cicero shrugged. “They weren’t fleeing. They moved with far too much confidence for that. My guess is they accomplished whatever they left the forest to do.”

  Hyland was grimly silent at that news, mulling it over at length. Finally, he said, “So you met up with Kendrick and Eben at the docks. How did you end up seated at my hearth?”

  “Your son was kind enough to offer Cicero and me shelter for tonight in your home.”

  The question the landsgrave asked next surprised and alarmed her. “Where do you come by your magical skills?”

  How in stars’ name had logic brought him to that pivotal question? Was he that frighteningly intelligent, or was it pure luck that he’d gone directly to the crux of who she was and from whence her problems sprang? Best to take the question at face value. “It is tradition in my family that any who show magical talent are trained somewhat in its use. Most of the females of my blood can use magic.”

  “How much can you do?”

  “By that do you mean how many spells, or how much magical energy can I harness?”

  “Spells are easy enough to learn. How much energy can you summon to you?”

  She answered honestly, “A fair bit.”

  “Enough to perform, say, high-ritual magic?”

  “I was able to do that before I passed my tenth summer.”

  He lurched forward in his seat, staring. “Truly?”

  “Do you wish a demonstration?”

  She’d asked it as a rhetorical question; hence she was startled when he replied, “Yes, I do.”

  It was her turn to blink. “I do not have in my possession a scroll or ritual components with which to cast high magic.”

  “Just summon the energy. Hold it in your hands and then dissipate it.”

  “It does not work quite like that,” she replied dryly. “Once summoned, such magic is … restless. It attempts to return to wherever it came from. I may damage your office.”

  Hyland leaned back and linked his fingers across his stomach to observe. Clearly, he had no care for the destruction of his home.

  “You show great confidence in me, my lord, to allow me to summon so much power in your presence. You cannot know that I will not launch it at you.”

  “I am generally a good judge of character, and you are no murderer. Since this test may well determine your future, I have confidence you will do your best not to harm me.”

  Determine her future? What did he mean by that?

  “Whenever you are ready,” he prompted, “show me what you can do.”

  It was a simple exercise, really. She focused her mind with the help of the talisman hanging from its chain around her neck, reached deep inside herself, and opened the mental barrier between her and the magic that pervaded every living person on Haelos. Magic flooded to her and through her in an exhilarating rush.

  She channeled the torrent of power into the space between her palms, a hand span apart before her. In seconds the crackling, flashing ball of light was almost too bright to look at directly. He wanted her best, did he? She concentrated harder, drawing forth as much power as she could summon. The talisman grew warm, and then hot, against her skin.

  And the magic kept on coming. She’d never left the gate full open like this and never for so long. Even she had no idea how much the well from which it sprang held. Her hands were forced farther and farther apart as the ball grew larger and larger. And still it came.

  When her hands were spread well beyond the width of her shoulders, Leland finally called over the snaps and pops in her ears, “Enough!”

  Without incanting the magic into any specific shape or flavor, she turned toward the fireplace and hurled the giant ball of energy into the flames. A great explosion flashed upward as the logs were blasted to splinters. She threw her arms up to protect her face.

  From behind her, she heard laughter. “A fair bit of magic indeed, child. I have never seen the like.” Leland laughed until he had to wipe tears from his cheeks. Eventually, still chuckling, he asked, “What are we going to do with you?”

  A man-at-arms burst into the room in alarm, his sword drawn. Hyland gestured absently for the fellow to clean up the mess she’d made, and the soldier got to work sweeping up loose embers from the hearth and shoveling them back into the fireplace. The fellow laid a new fire on top of the resulting bed of coals and then left the room silently.

  Hyland had fallen silent, his mind obviously working at full speed on an answer to his question of what to do with her.

  Stunned by what she’d just done, Raina sat in shocked silence of her own. She’d known she was powerful, but she’d had no idea all of that was available to her. And the magic had still been coming when Leland called off the demonstration. No wonder the Mages of Alchizzadon were so hot and bothered to get their hands on her.

  Leland shifted in his chair, raising his chin off his fist and looking away from the blasted remnants of the fire, which were just starting to relight. He gazed at her speculatively. “You do understand,” he commented, “that a mage of your power cannot be allowed to roam the countryside at large and unsupervised?”

  She frowned. “Why not? I’ve been roaming around at large and unsupervised for some time, and your fire is my only casualty so far. I have control of my magic.”

  He sighed. “You will not be able to keep such power secret for long. When word gets out of your ability, more than your mother will be chasing after you. Every guild will want you. Brigands will try to kidnap you and force you into their service. For that matter, the governor himself will likely wish to press you into service, or even slavery, to him if he can lay his hands on you.”

  She frowned, finding the idea hard to credit. And yet Marikeen’s predicament and cold, hard logic said Leland was correct.

  “You are a valuable commodity, child.”

  “I have no wish to be a commodity. I would get rid of my magic if I knew how.” Particularly since then the Mages of Alchizzadon would have no use for her.

  Leland shrugged. “Wishing will not make it so.”

  He was right, and she was being childish to wish for the moon thus.

  “You need
a patron, Raina. Sooner rather than later.” He sighed. “And therein lies the conundrum that has had me thinking these past few minutes.” He gazed at her in compassion that was almost fatherly. A sharp pang of homesickness stabbed her.

  “What do you know of the Heart?” he asked abruptly.

  She shrugged. “What everyone knows, I suppose. They are the guild of healers. They control the Heartstones and, through them, resurrections. They live humbly but wield the power of life and death for each and every person within reach of a stone.”

  “Why is that important?”

  His question had the sound of an academic exercise from one of her tutors, and she answered it in that vein. “Even our most resplendent Emperor cannot claim such reach.”

  Leland grinned widely. “I shall assume you did not mean that last observation treasonously, child. Although you are absolutely correct, you would be wise not to air it outside the walls of this room.”

  His eyes twinkled, but she thought she noted a hint of surprise in their depths. Not used to women schooled in political analysis, was he? She was beginning to understand just how strange the daughters of Tyrel really were.

  “What do you know of the Heart’s structure?” he asked.

  Raina frowned. “There are three branches—the Heart proper, whose members maintain chapter houses and, in places that have them, manage and use Heartstones. Then there’s the Royal Order of the Sun—the knightly order charged with protecting the Heartstones and healers. Lastly, there’s the Order of the White Heart. They’re wandering healers who travel the known world and try to convince people who’ve never seen a Heartstone that resurrections are a good thing.”

  He pursed his lips. “What else do you know of the White Heart?”

  She shrugged. “Not much. We didn’t get many of them in Tyrel.”

  “Members of the White Heart take an additional vow beyond the regular Heart oath. This vow sets them completely apart from the rest of the Heart. They promise, quite simply, to defend life.”

  She frowned. That was it? To defend life? What was so significant about that? Knights and even common foot soldiers swore to defend lives all the time.

  Leland said, “Think on it. Not just certain people’s lives. All people’s lives. All living creatures’ lives. No matter what race or side of the law. A White Heart member will render aid to a goblin as quickly as to a human, to a murderer as quickly as his victim. And it doesn’t necessarily stop at humanoids. The more extreme White Heart members will become vegetarians and heal wild animals, monsters, all life.”

  She’d had no idea … the magnitude of such a vow staggered her.

  Hyland continued, “Implicit in their vow to defend life is a secondary promise never to take life. In fact, most White Heart members take that vow one step further and interpret it to mean they shall cause no harm of any kind to any living being.”

  She blurted, “How on Urth does any White Heart member live more than a few weeks outside the walls of a city such as this if they will not defend themselves against any living creature?”

  Leland laughed. “As I expected, you have immediately put your finger on the heart of the matter.”

  Raina leaned forward. “Do you mean that if a bear in the woods attacked a White Heart member, he or she would let the bear kill them rather than defend themselves? Or would they save themselves since they are a living being, too?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Hmm, yes. That does get a little tricky. Can a White Heart member cast a sleep spell at the bear to save himself? Does that constitute attacking a living being? Does it place the sleeping bear in jeopardy from its own foes? Does the White Heart member incur a responsibility to guard the bear until it wakes up? These are all philosophical dilemmas White Heart members must address. This I know, however. Never take a White Heart member hunting with oneself.”

  Raina could not help but smile at his wry humor.

  Leland continued, “You asked before how White Heart members travel over hill and dale in the safety they usually enjoy. The answer is twofold. First, to attack a White Heart member is to incur the wrath of the Royal Order of the Sun. And they are among the most skilled and feared warriors in the Empire.” He added quickly, “And yes, that no doubt bothers the Emperor.”

  She blinked in surprise at how close Leland had just come to treason as he went on. “The second reason the White Heart is so safe is because nearly every sentient being on Urth knows their colors and generally wishes them no harm.”

  Raina echoed in dawning understanding, “Because they’ll heal anyone who lives.”

  “Correct. A brigand or an ogre or a goblin is as happy to see a White Heart healer as any Imperial soldier or common peasant would be. They all receive healing without prejudice at a White Heart member’s hands.”

  She turned that over thoughtfully. “An interesting group, this White Heart. But I should think the limits placed upon its members by such a lifestyle would be stifling. A healer would more or less live life as a walking healing station. Not to mention, I should think, upholding their vows cannot always be easy.”

  Leland nodded solemnly. “Despite the extreme protection offered by their colors, White Heart members are not known for dying of old age. They have a tendency to go places where no sane man would venture. And on the battlefield…”—he paused, obviously seeing memories in his mind’s eye—“… they often end up between the lines, healing both sides as the carnage unfolds around them. It is not exactly the safest place to be, but it is where their vows send them.”

  Raina tried to picture doing that and failed. She shook off the grisly image. “So, my lord. Why do you feel a need to educate me so thoroughly on this specialized order within the Heart?”

  He smiled broadly at her. “The circle of logic is complete. We arrive back at the beginning—at the matter of your safety.”

  “My safety?”

  “Exactly. We have already established that I cannot in good conscience turn you loose to run about the countryside at risk from whoever manages to snatch you first.” He continued, “How to protect a mage of your talent, then? The Mage’s Guild would develop your talent to its full extent, but it would require you to stay here in Dupree for years of training. The guild would then exploit you shamelessly, selling your skills, keeping all of your earnings to make them rich. It is a viable option, but distasteful to me personally.” He added reluctantly, “But perhaps that idea is to your liking. They would see to it you live a life of comfort and ease within a luxurious guild hall.”

  Picturing herself holed up in some dusty building casting rituals for the Empire until she burned out made her shudder. Although there was a chance that from within the Mage’s Guild she could find a way to restore the Great Mage. But surely the Mages of Alchizzadon had already explored all of the Mage’s Guild’s knowledge thoroughly.

  A grim smile flickered around the edges of Hyland’s mouth as he seemed to read her distaste for the Mage’s Guild option. “Then there’s the Heart,” he said. “As a regular healer, you would be expected to set up residence in a Heart chapter somewhere. Your movement would be restricted, and it would be no difficult matter for your mother to track you down and take you home by force.

  The Heart would move to protect you, of course, but not quickly enough, I think. It is a big organization and its wheels turn slowly. Your mother could argue that you can be married and raise babes and still serve the Heart wherever your husband forces you to live.”

  Raina winced at that argument. Avoiding babes was the whole point.

  “As I thought,” Leland commented. “The White Heart, however, is a different story. The Royal Order of the Sun is directly responsible for the safety of White Heart healers and takes that responsibility very seriously. The Royal Order typically sends escorts with each White Heart member on their travels, in fact. At the first distress call from a White Heart member, they react instantly and aggressively. Furthermore, they retaliate swiftly to punish any who harm or hinder a White Heart memb
er.”

  As a deterrent to future harm befalling other White Heart members, no doubt. She nodded her understanding and Hyland continued.

  “In point of fact, most anyone who sees a White Heart member in trouble will rise up to defend him. Were you to join the White Heart, you could be assured that no one would dare touch you and risk the wrath of the Royal Order of the Sun.”

  Not even the Mages of Alchizzadon? The thought galvanized her. “How long is one required to serve the White Heart when one joins them?”

  “White Heart members serve for life.”

  “What about a home? Family? Do they marry and have children like regular Heart members?”

  “My lady wife was a White Heart member. But I will not lie to you. Having a family while wearing the colors poses a difficult challenge. Loved ones are a weakness by which others might gain power over you. After all, could you stand by and watch someone kill your loved ones and do nothing to protect them?”

  Raina stared at him. Yet he wished her to walk that path anyway? It felt as though she were bleeding out slowly from a mortal wound.

  He continued on grimly, “For most, serving the White Heart is their one and only calling in life. My wife used to say that when she donned the colors, she ceased to exist as an individual. In effect, she became the tabard and what it represents.”

  Raina tried to speak normally, but her voice came out choked and halting. “And you … wish me … to do this?”

  “How much do you want to avoid the fate others have planned for you?”

  Enough to sign away her freedom for the rest of her life? To give herself over entirely to the White Heart, never to return home? Never to have a home? To be a wandering healer forever, living much as she had these past few days but wholly unable to defend herself? Ever?

  Leland pushed to his feet and moved across the room to a large chest in the corner, which he opened. He lifted from it a folded cloth and shook it out, and she saw a white tabard, edged in blue and bearing a four-pointed blue star upon the breast. A white heart surrounded by white sun rays overlaid the blue star. “This is a White Heart tabard. My wife’s. It also is a talisman for channeling magic.”