FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy

by Mercedes Lackey

  “Why would a wizard allow himself to be bound in such a way that if his guardian died, he would die also? That never made sense to me, not that I don’t believe it is possible. I just don’t think they would set things up to work like that,” said the Duke.

  Genevieve nodded, “In any case, her father was none too pleased about it. She was his heir, and the vow precluded her from inheriting. I don’t think he was too keen on passing the estate to her younger sister.”

  “When did she marry my father, Tyndal?” Genevieve was proving to be a wealth of information and the past was coming to life before my eyes.

  “About a year after that she and Tyndal were engaged. It was supposedly rare for a woman to become Anath’Meridum, but those that did frequently fell in love. I guess it is to be expected when a woman and man are forced to spend every day together,” she said.

  “How many Anath’Meridum are there?” I asked.

  “None now, I would assume. There was only one for each wizard, and the Illeniel family was the last of the recorded lines. You have to understand, I don’t know much about the traditions, only what Elena told us,” she seemed apologetic.

  “So my name is Mordecai Ardeth’Illeniel, or should I call myself di’Cameron?”

  James spoke up, “Properly your name is Mordecai Illeniel, although you could choose to carry your matrilineal name as well, Mordecai di’Cameron Illeniel in that case. Ardeth is a term added for a wizard who has been bound.”

  I had no idea if I would or could be bound as Tyndal had. It sounded extremely awkward. Of course, I had no understanding of the true reasons for it at that time. We continued talking for a while, until the conversation turned to the future; a subject I was understandably nervous about.

  James broached the topic, “Mordecai, you realize the Cameron estates are still in my hands don’t you?”

  As a matter of fact I didn’t. I was so ignorant of the workings of the upper class; I wasn’t even sure what he meant. “No sir,” I said uncertainly.

  “After the fire, the murders, none of the Camerons were left, other than some distant third cousins. I might have passed the estate to one of them, but your mother’s note made me aware of your survival, so I have held them in trust,” he paused, “for you.”

  He had to explain a bit more to me then, but it seemed that the lands of the Cameron family were held by the Lancasters, and through them by the King. In other words, the Count of Cameron had been his vassal, and the Duke of Lancaster had the freedom of deciding to whom he would bestow the title and estate, if he chose not to keep it for himself. In short, he was offering the lands to me.

  “If you intended all along to pass the land to me, why did you wait ’til now?” I had done nothing but ask questions since I came in.

  “Your mother, and I as well, felt you would not be safe,” he said simply.

  “Wouldn’t I have had guards and a castle?”

  “They were not enough for your parents. Almost everyone in Castle Cameron died that night. I had no way to prevent something similar from occurring again. Even now, I worry that you might fall prey to a similar fate, but you cannot remain as you are anymore.”

  For a moment I wished that I could remain a simple blacksmith’s son, the world he described was too big, too dangerous. Mort Eldridge didn’t belong in a place like that. “Why not?” I wished aloud.

  James responded, “Your only protection until now, has been anonymity, and anonymity is no longer enough. You now have an enemy who will someday be one of the most powerful peers of the realm, rivaled only by myself and superseded only by the king. Your only protection now is that of rank and station.”

  I had to admit the logic of his words, but something else occurred to me, “You said ‘almost’ everyone in the castle died. Who were the survivors?”

  “The only ones that lived were those who were away or didn’t eat the meal that evening. Even those that didn’t partake were slaughtered when the assassins came. A handful of servants hiding in the cellars survived, as well as Father Tonnsdale, who was fasting and had locked himself within the chapel,” he answered.

  “Who was the poisoner?”

  “We never found out. There was nothing left to discover. The fire gutted the castle and the few that survived didn’t work in the kitchens,” he said. The lack of evidence obviously bothered him as much as it did me.

  “What about the assassins? Surely something must be known about them, or who sent them...” I asked.

  “We believe they were the Children of Mal’goroth, a cult to one of the dark gods. They overran the Kingdom of Gododdin many years before you were born. We thought they had plans to repeat their actions here, but there has been little sign of them in Lothion since that night. The few we found were already dead,” he sighed. “We won’t uncover the secrets of sixteen years ago tonight, and we have other things to accomplish.”

  “Such as, Your Grace?” I was curious now.

  “You reached your majority last year, I believe...,” he looked at his wife.

  “Mordecai is sixteen and will turn seventeen in almost two weeks,” she answered. Genevieve was possessed of an excellent memory regarding birthdays apparently. The age of majority in Lothion is sixteen.

  “Very good. Mordecai, I will confer your title and land upon you tomorrow evening, followed immediately by your commendation ceremony.” He smiled at me.

  “I am overwhelmed, Your Grace.” I said, stunned. Who could have thought he would move so quickly?

  “Please, call me James when we are in private. Now, you should go and get some rest. Marcus is planning a boar hunt in the morning, and you’ll want all your wits about you for that.” He clapped me upon the back and led me to the door. He leaned out and shouted, “Benchley! Fetch the scribes. We’ll be working late tonight!”

  “Thank you, Your Gra—James,” I stumbled. He nodded at me and I found myself walking back toward my rooms in a state of profound shock. I was barely aware of my surroundings and nearly walked into Penny as I rounded a corner. She was accompanied by Rose Hightower.

  Penny let out a most unladylike yelp when she saw me. At first it seemed she didn’t even want to meet my eyes. I had never known her to be shy before, but she had been through a lot lately, so I figured it might be understandable. “Penny! Thank the gods! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” I grabbed her hands with a sense of relief. “I need to talk to you.” I gave her my most serious look.

  A slight cough caught my attention, and I realized my mistake, “Forgive me Lady Rose, I forgot myself. I hope you are well this evening.”

  “No need to apologize. I cannot blame a gentleman who is so taken with the sight of his lady-fair.” She gave me a knowing smile, and I started to protest, but she continued, “What is this?” She was looking at my surcoat. Penny took notice as well.

  “Mort?” she made my name a question.

  “It’s complicated, and one more reason I need to talk to you, but not the most important one,” I was having trouble getting her attention. She looked to Rose.

  “Unless I am mistaken those are the arms of the family Cameron, long thought defunct. It would seem that Master Eldridge has a surprise in store for us. You just left the Duke, did you not?” Fantastic, Lady Rose was an expert in heraldry as well. She would have made a fine detective.

  “Lady please, I beg of you, keep this to yourself for now.” Surely she could see my desperation; I think she enjoyed tormenting men.

  “Until the day of revelation I suppose?” She pursed her lips in a mock pout. The woman was entirely too perceptive.

  “Indeed,” I replied. “If you will allow me a moment alone, I truly need to talk to Penny.” I tugged at Penelope’s hands and Lady Rose nodded her approval. We walked a short way down the hall. “Penny I’ve been trying to find you for two days, it’s about the other night...”

  She flinched when I said that, “Whatever you heard is probably true Mort. I’d rather not be reminded.”

  “No
that’s not what I meant,” I was puzzled. “Did you get my note?”

  “The one where you told me that you are a secret nobleman, biding his time to reclaim his ancestral home? Or the one where you told me that you’re a wizard with the powers of light and darkness at his command?” She had gone from curious to upset rather quickly.

  “I tried to explain that to you the other day, but you ran off before I could finish!” My own frustration was bubbling up.

  “And how long have you known about your illustrious heritage?” she countered.

  “I just found out this afternoon when I went to see my parents. That’s where I got this tabard.” I held the fabric out as if it would support my tale.

  “And yet, within just hours of finding out, you manage to challenge one of the most powerful men in the realm to a chess match and clean him out,” she said in a tone that implied she was not as mad as I thought.

  “Yes, well he said something about you that I couldn’t forgive, and things just sort of went downhill from there.” I replied.

  Penelope’s face went white and her entire demeanor changed, “I appreciate you defending my honor Mort, but you don’t understand.”

  “I wasn’t defending your honor exactly. He said some things about my parents, and then he mentioned how he had learned them; which is why I need to talk to you, about the other night, when you were in his room. I know what happened, and I wanted...” I tried to say, I wanted to tell you what happened after you went to sleep, but I never got there.

  Her hand struck me solidly across the cheek and left a ringing in my ears. “So you were upset that he insulted your parentage! Never mind that you think I’m a whore, that’s completely understandable. You are the world’s second biggest ass! And what did you say you wanted? Were you going to ask if you could pay for an evening as well? Now that you’re about to be a high and mighty lord yourself. Go to hell, Mordecai!”

  She was walking away now, as I stood there trying to figure out where I had gone wrong, “Wait Penny...you’ve misunderstood me, and I still haven’t told you the full story yet!” I yelled after her.

  She didn’t stop, and I didn’t chase her. After a minute Rose walked over to me, “You certainly handled that well.”

  “Do you ever say anything helpful, anything sincere, to actually help someone? Or do you just sit there on your high society horse and play games with everyone?” I was mad, and Rose was near at hand.

  “That actually stung. Despite what you believe, I care a great deal. That girl of yours has been through a lot, and if you love her you’ll be patient,” she actually looked sincere as she said this; her usual sly smile was gone.

  “She’s not my girl,” I answered. “And she’s been through a lot more than you know. If she would talk to me, I could help her.”

  “I know more than you realize, and I’m telling you to be patient. Simply put, you may think you know what she’s been through, but you haven’t the faintest clue. Keep barging around and you’ll only drive her away.” Rose Hightower had drawn herself up to her full height and she radiated a warning aura. I had well and truly pissed her off. “Good evening to you,” she finished and turned to head the same direction that Penny had stalked off. I might have said she ‘flounced’ away, but a woman as highly bred and well mannered as Rose Hightower never flounced.

  Chapter XIII

  The Hunt

  AFTER THE NEAR DESTRUCTION OF the world by the dark god, Balinthor, the ancients established a system to prevent such an event from ever occurring again. All the known bloodlines that had produced powerful wizards were catalogued, and their heirs were carefully watched. Any mage born with sufficient power to create a world bridge was given a ‘protector’; although I use that term loosely. They were required to form a bond with someone, usually a trusted friend. The person bonded came to be referred to as Anath’Meridum, which meant ‘Final Pact’ in the old tongue. This guardian’s true purpose was to ensure that the mage they were bonded to would never forsake humanity and create a bridge to allow one of the gods to cross over, whether by choice or under duress. Wizards powerful enough to require bonding were called ‘Ardeth’.

  The bond between a mage and their Anath’Meridum is poorly understood, but it is known to link the lives of both individuals, such that if one were to die, the other would immediately follow. Anath’Meridum were trained to kill their charges if they should be corrupted by the enemy or betray their oaths. Failing that, they would kill themselves, thus ensuring the safety of all.

  ~Marcus the Heretic,

  On the Nature of Faith and Magic

  Getting into a fight with someone is an excellent way to ensure that you will get the worst possible sleep. Someone was knocking on the door. In my head I could hear a voice saying, please, please go away and let me sleep. Unfortunately, reason reared its ugly head and explained to that voice in no uncertain terms that I would have to get up, since they would not go away. Reason is a bitch sometimes. “Alright, hang on!” I shouted at the door.

  Benchley stood outside, “If you had left the door unbarred, I could have woken you a bit more carefully sir.”

  “People like you are exactly why I barred the door to begin with,” I grumbled to myself.

  “Master Marcus told me to get you ready for the hunt this morning.” He had a set of riding leathers draped over one arm. I decided then and there, that if there were ever to be hunting on the Cameron estates, it would have to be an afternoon affair. The idea had merit. I should probably issue a proclamation requiring all the animals to stay in bed till noon as well, to even the playing field. I tried to explain my idea to Benchley, but he seemed to be related to the voice of reason that had made me answer the door in the first place. Both of them ignored me.

  A quarter of an hour later I was dressed and more or less awake. Benchley had a lot of experience at this sort of thing and had come prepared. Black tea, hard bread and a bit of sausage followed him in the door, carried by Timothy. “Breakfast for you, sir!” Timothy still had that gap toothed grin that always cheered me up.

  Soon enough I was down at the stables where everyone was gathering. I had never been on a boar hunt, so I didn’t realize what a large production it was. The good duke had a large kennel with a variety of hunting dogs, and there were two particular kinds that would be used today. The ‘bay’ dogs would find the boar and alert us to their location. The ‘catch’ dogs would attempt to hold the boar in place, a dangerous task. Apparently it was not uncommon for one of the large mastiffs to be killed.

  The Duke’s master of the hunt was a man named William Doyle, who also happened to be my friend Timothy’s uncle. As I came up, he was explaining the lay of the land, where the boars were to be found that morning. I found out later that it was customary for him to go out before every major hunt, a ‘quest’ it was called, to find the game before the hunters rode out. I guessed he must be a masochist, since he had been up several hours before the rest of us.

  Sir Kelton, the marshal was out as well, and he had the grooms running back and forth, fetching horses for the participants. As was usual, we were all to be mounted on coursers, their speed being preferred for the hunt. I found myself on a dun horse and carrying a boar spear. The spear itself was interesting. The ash shaft was about six feet in length and terminated with a long leaf shaped blade that probably added another foot or so to the overall length. A small crosspiece behind the blade was there to protect the hunter. I checked the head and found my father’s mark impressed on the steel there.

  Marc rode up beside me, his face flushed with excitement, “You know what to do, right?!”

  I shook my head, “Not a damn clue.” Apparently my remark was funny, because someone behind me started laughing. Dorian had ridden up.

  “I can sympathize with you my friend, I never got a taste for these sorts of adventures either,” said Dorian. “I always feel sorry for the poor boar.” Despite his position and training as a warrior, Dorian had always been a gentle boy as we gr
ew up. He often played peacemaker when others lost their temper, and he had a great affection for animals.

  “Just listen for the hounds, Mort! When you hear the baying start, you know they’ve found one, so ride quickly, or you’ll be late for the kill.” My experience with killing was limited to chickens and considering how enjoyable that was, I didn’t really know if I wanted to be the first to find the boar anyway.

  We set out riding across the fields around Castle Lancaster, spreading out as we cantered along. Dorian and I took a position on the right hand side, and soon we were more than a hundred yards from the nearest riders on either side of us. We reached the edge of the forest, and then we were among the trees. The ground was dappled with spots of sunshine coming through the leaves, and a light breeze kept everything in motion.

  The air was sweet with the smells of spring and green things growing. Despite my early morning crankiness, I had to admit that the idyllic scenery around me worked a subtle magic. The wind ruffled my hair as the powerful horse beneath me walked easily along. Dorian and I spread apart as well, and soon even he was lost to sight. Closing my eyes, I could feel the forest around me, tasting it with my mind in a way that was almost spiritual.

  I relaxed and soon forgot the hunt. If I heard the hounds, I decided I would ignore them. The day was too beautiful to spoil with blood. Or maybe I was just lazy. I continued to expand my awareness, startled at how much life there was around me. Things unnoticed by the eye; the badger in his lair beneath an oak thirty yards away, the finches fluttering in their nests high above, mice and small creatures filtering through the grass, searching for seeds. These were things I had never known before, not in such an intimate way. Reaching farther, I felt Dorian more than a hundred yards to my left, fighting to get through a thick patch of brambles. I couldn’t ‘see’ him, but somehow I knew it was Dorian, it felt like him.