The Consuls of the Vicariate

by Brian Kittrell

  Laedron nodded. “The sooner, the better, and since Marac’s volunteered us for this ceremony, we need every bit of time we can muster.”

  “You’ll hold that against me?” Marac asked.

  “No, no. I don’t look forward to being paraded up and down the streets, but I’ll let it go this time. The potential rewards would do much to further our task.”

  “All right.” Valyrie rested her arms on the table. “We’ll speak to Jurgen about getting passage then?”

  “Yes.” Laedron glanced at each of them. “What supplies do you think we’ll need?”

  “If we go by ship, we’ll have little need for food,” Brice said. “Some, but not much. That pretty much goes for any other supplies, too; if we’re not to be in the wilderness, I don’t see us needing much.”

  “Right, but I don’t want to go empty-handed.” Marac took a sip from his cup. “We’ll need some basic things to tide us over until we learn the city, and travelers without supplies make easy targets for greedy merchants.”

  Laedron smiled. “Agreed. Let us get our things together and take care of any other business we have so that we’re ready to leave as soon as possible.”

  “All right,” Brice said, standing. “I’ll return later.”

  Laedron said, “Wait. What have you to do?”

  “I have to see someone one last time before I go. I’ll be back. Trust me.” Brice left without another word.

  Laedron raised an eyebrow, then gazed at Marac. “Have you any idea what he has in mind?”

  “No. I just hope he doesn’t get himself in trouble—” He stopped when Laedron glared at him. “Sorry. I won’t pick on him anymore.”

  “Have you anything to do, Val?” Laedron asked.

  She stood. “I’d like to see my teachers one last time, to tell them farewell. And a few friends.” She stood and went out the main door.

  “Looks like it’s just us, old friend,” Laedron said.

  Marac grinned. “A terrible proposition.”

  Laedron chuckled. “Perhaps, but it gives us a little time to talk, a luxury we haven’t had lately. Things have gotten so complicated.”

  “Complicated? I’m no master of language, but I’d bet there’s a word far stronger than complicated to describe our lives recently.” Marac paused. “Tell me about this girl of yours.”

  “Nothing to tell.”

  “Nothing to tell? Come on, Lae.”

  “I think I’m in love, Marac.”

  Marac laughed. “Sorry, my friend. I’m only surprised to hear those words cross your lips at long last. She’s quite a catch, isn’t she?”

  “Quite. We haven’t known each other for long, but I feel something when I’m around her. Is that strange? To feel in love after so short a time?”

  “You’re asking me?” Marac asked. “Well, I guess you are, aren’t you? No, not in my mind. A week or two is plenty of time to get the feeling, but now, you have to own it.”

  “Own it?”

  “Yeah, you have to own it. Take the heart out of it and see if you line up with her.” Marac scooted closer. “You have to look at it from the outside. Can you see yourself living with her for the rest of your life? Getting into fights and making it out with your skin?”

  “Oh, we won’t fight. I could never fight with—”

  “You will. Take it from me. You’ll fight, and you’ll be bitter. There’ll be times that you can’t stand to be around her, but you have to decide beforehand if you think you can make it. No, you have to know that you can repair the breaches as they come.”

  “I just never see us fighting. Not ever.”

  “You’d better at least think about it. I don’t mean to spoil things or get you down, but these things happen. Everybody fights sometimes. Laren and I have argued. My parents fight and bicker, but they make amends. That’s what it is to be together.”

  “You and Laren?”

  Marac sighed. “Yeah, after we suspended the wedding plans. She still saw me after that, and she’d always climb up and down my back about the drinking and my night life. We made up each time, though. We know that we’re meant for each other.”

  “You’re making me rethink this whole thing, Marac.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “Is it?”

  “I only mean to say that you have to know. When you know, you’ll know, but don’t do anything too hasty before you’re sure. Take things slow. Get to know her well before pursuing anything permanent.”

  “I’ve never seen this side of you before, Marac. I have to admit that it’s kind of nice.”

  “There’s more to me than drunken wildness and chasing women I don’t care about. You should know that, Laedron Telpist.”

  “Of course that’s not all I think of you. I only mean to say that it’s a pleasant difference from what I’ve witnessed lately.”

  Marac nodded. “We’ve been through a lot. The war, fighting with priests who turned out to be Zyvdredi sorcerers, and the heartache. Every day that passes, I worry that I’ll never see Laren again.”

  “You’ll see her. I’m sure of it.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Enough of this talk for now,” Laedron said. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

  “A walk?”

  “Yes, a walk. Have you forgotten how?”

  Marac stood. “I only wonder why.”

  “With everything that’s happened, we’ve never been able to take in the sights. The city bears many places to see, and we may not have a chance to visit here again.”

  “All right. It could be nice.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Laedron said, opening the door.

  Marac followed him outside. “Where do you want to go?”

  “We’ve seen most of the Ancient Quarter, and I’d rather go somewhere a bit more secular, to tell you the truth.”

  “Secular?”

  “To get away from the religious themes for a time.” Laedron started walking. “The city’s covered with symbols of Azura, but there must be somewhere that doesn’t exist as a tribute to her.”

  “We are in the capital of the Heraldan Theocracy. It may be difficult to find what you seek.”

  “The university wasn’t bad, only a few Azuran Stars here and there. How about the seaside?”

  “The city doesn’t extend all the way to the sea, but the channel runs along the north end. Want to try there?”

  “It’s worth taking a look.” Laedron turned onto a boulevard leading north.

  They crested the last hilltop before the Heraldan Channel, and Laedron could see a number of masts rising above the roofs lining the water. “Seems the blockade’s been lifted.”

  “How can you tell?”

  Laedron pointed at the masts in the distance. “The flags. I recognize the Cael’Brilland banner, but not the others. I do know they don’t belong to the theocracy, though.”

  “Well, you know what they say.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Where there’s a Cael’brillander, keep a watch on the keg.” Marac laughed.

  “Are you sure? I could have sworn I heard that before, but it was said about a Reven.”

  Marac poked him. “Ah, Lae… they’d be right about that, too.”

  « Table of Contents

  ← Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-Two →

  The Lives We Lead

  Brice followed the boulevard to the Ancient Quarter, taking note of the spectacles he saw along the way. The people had already begun their peace celebrations, and the entire city seemed to boast a pleasant, happy aura. Jubilant relief showed in the faces of every man, woman, and child he passed. Every cart was full of goods and the merchants handed out baked rolls at no cost to anyone who wanted one, including Brice. When he reached the entrance to the Ancient Quarter, he tossed a couple of the rolls into a bush, unable to stuff any more into his stomach.

  Arriving at the former residence of Vicar Forane, he spotted a militia guard standing post at the front door. �
�Have you seen Collette?”

  “Who?” The guard swayed a bit, probably from an ache in his feet after standing guard for quite some time. “I don’t know any Collette.”

  “The servant girl who resided here,” Brice said. “What has become of her?”

  “Ah, yes. You may want to speak with Commander Wilkans outside the gate.” The guard pointed at the portcullis behind Brice. “I remember mention of a girl, but I don’t know where she went. I only know that she’s not here.”

  Brice turned and walked to the nearby militia headquarters. After passing through the front entry, he ascended to the third floor and knocked on the heavy wooden door still bearing Master Greathis’s name.

  “Come in,” a muffled voice said.

  Opening the door, Brice glanced at the boxes and crates all over the room. “Master Wilkans?”

  “Yes. Come, have a seat.”

  Brice sat in one of the two empty chairs in front of the desk. “Moving things around?”

  “Master Greathis’s things. I’m preparing them for shipment back to his relatives in Falacore.”

  “I won’t waste your time, then. I seek Forane’s servant girl. Her name is Collette.”

  “And what, pray tell, for? She’s suffered greatly at Forane’s hands, and I’m not inclined to let anyone trouble her any further.”

  “I want to thank her for what she’s done. She was just as important as the rest of us in revealing Forane’s plans and stopping the Drakars.” Brice tried to think of something better because Wilkans looked unconvinced. “I won’t cause her any suffering. I swear it.”

  “You’re a friend of that sorcerer fellow, aren’t you?” Wilkans asked, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, you were here just the other night helping us. Very well.” Wilkans leaned forward and scribbled on a scrap of paper, then handed the paper to Brice. “Go on the boulevard west of the Ancient Quarter and take your third right. There you shall find House Steadfahl.”

  “House Steadfahl?”

  “Aye, a manor house, and you will have trouble missing the sight of it. She comes from a wealthy, influential family. Pity that her father passed while she was imprisoned in Forane’s house. Double the torture in my mind.”

  “Thank you,” Brice said, rising and heading for the door.

  * * *

  Brice found the mansion with little difficulty. The house consisted of two wings attached by a great hall through the center which ran parallel to the street. Two massive chimneys stood at the far ends, and smoke billowed out from them. He stood at the wrought iron gate and tried to summon his courage. It won’t get any easier than right now. What’s the worst she can do?

  The creaking of the gate set his nerves on edge, heightening his anxiety. He only hoped that he could reach the front door before anyone saw him from one of the second-story windows. Relieved at reaching the awning without any apparent notice of his arrival, Brice rapped on the door. He quickly groomed his hair, then spit in his hand and used it to wipe away any dirt he might have had on his face.

  Brice threw his hands back down to his sides when the door opened. “Evening, sire. Might I speak with Collette of Steadfahl?”

  The butler, his nose fixed permanently in the air, asked, “And what business have you with her?”

  I’ve come all this way and gone through all this trouble to be stopped by a man wearing a tight suit and wielding a snobby accent? Brice considered whether he should be polite and ask again, or if he should demand her presence and state in a clear and loud voice that he wouldn’t be insulted by the likes of a butler.

  Before he could decide on how to respond, Collette appeared at the bannister above the butler and said, “Let him in. He’s no trouble.”

  No trouble? I guess that’s better than ‘an unbearable pain.’ The butler stood aside, and Brice entered the house.

  Collette was dressed in all the finery of a young noble. She wore a dress made from silk or some equally fine material, gold and silver jewelry, and sparkling shoes that drew Brice’s eye. “Miss Steadfahl—”

  “After what has passed, call me Collette, but I don’t know what to call you.”

  Thinking back, Brice realized that he’d never told her his name. “Brice Warren of Reven’s Landing.”

  “That will be all, Percy.” The butler bowed, and Collette descended the stairs. “Reven’s Landing, you say? I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of it.”

  “It’s a small village in the west of Sorbia.”

  She smiled. “A week ago, revealing such would have landed you in a jail to rot.”

  “Then, I guess I’d better be glad it’s not a week ago. I only came to thank you for what you did.”

  “You thanked me already.”

  “Yes, but we were in quite a hurry. I just wanted to tell you that before I leave, and I wanted you to know that we all—Sorbians, Heraldans, Falacorans, and all the rest—appreciate the favor you did for us.”

  “Think nothing of it. You did a service for me, so we’re even.”

  “For you?”

  “Yes, of course. You got me out of that house, out of the clutches of that terrible woman. I’m free again because of you and your friends.”

  “Then, we’re even.”

  “What will you do now?” Collette asked.

  “We must go to Lasoron.”

  “You just said that you’re from Sorbia. Why Lasoron? Won’t you return home?”

  “One of our party has some unanswered questions, and he seems to think the answers are there.”

  “Then I wish you luck in your journey,” she said, turning to the stairs. “I appreciate your stopping by.”

  “That’s it?”

  She looked back. “What do you mean?”

  “No favor? Not even a kiss?” Brice stared at the floor. “I was always told that knights were supposed to get things like that.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You’re a knight?”

  He bobbed his head, and she turned back to him. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes in anticipation of a kiss.

  “Ouch!” He reeled from the slap.

  “There. Now you have something to take with you on your journey.”

  “Did you have to hit me so hard?” He rubbed the side of his face.

  “This is no fairy tale, and you’re no knight in shining armor. You think I would go around kissing any man who fancied me? My father met his end for doing just that!”

  “I’m sorry if I offended—”

  “I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but assume nothing more.”

  “Then I will only say that I’m glad you didn’t turn us over to Forane. Good day, miss.” He turned and opened the door.

  “Wait, Brice. I’m sorry. I was too harsh with you.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know how to feel. I miss my father, but he caused me insurmountable grief. That’s not your fault, and you don’t deserve my ire.”

  He didn’t know exactly what to say in reply. So he waited for her to speak again.

  “Here,” she said, slipping an iron ring off her finger. “I bestow upon you this ring, a symbol of my favor.”

  He took it and gave her a deep bow. “M’lady.”

  “Be careful out in the wide world, Sir Brice. If you should find yourself in Azura again, pay me a visit and tell me of your travels.”

  “Of course.” He smiled, then went through the door and closed it behind him.

  This knight business is hard work, he mused, the sting of the slap still fresh on his cheek. I couldn’t resist seeing her one last time, though. Maybe we will meet again.

  * * *

  Laedron and Marac entered the Shimmering Dawn headquarters, and Laedron noticed that the long table had been filled with a feast—a variety of fresh vegetables, meats, and desserts. Brice had returned sometime earlier, and he was busy indulging himself, along with Piers and Caleb.

  “Are we invited?” Laedron asked.
>
  Around a mouthful of food, Piers replied, “Dig in.”

  Marac sat and grabbed a cut of beef from a serving platter. “We have much to thank you for, Master Piers.”

  “No, no. We should be thanking you. If not for you, we would still be lurking in the shadows, biding our time until the army could reach us.”

  “That was your plan?”

  “We suspected for quite some time that the Heraldans would be unable to summon the assistance of anyone other than the Falacorans.” Piers popped a slice of tomato into his mouth. “It would have been bloody, but the Falacorans would have been forced to retreat.”

  Marac shrugged. “You sound rather confident of that.”

  “You think it would have gone another way?”

  “I saw the battle to the north, and both sides were nearly annihilated. The Sorbian army would have had its hands full for years, and that’s if they could set a siege.”

  “Perhaps, but we have no need to worry about such things now.”

  “Yes,” Laedron said. “Fenric should be close to Morcaine by now with the terms of peace if he hasn’t arrived already.”

  Brice looked up from his plate. “We can only hope.”

  “What did you go do, anyway?” Marac asked. “What in the heavens could you have to do here that doesn’t involve the order?”

  “I had to say goodbye to someone.”

  “Who?”

  “A girl named Collette.” Brice took a bite of mutton and chased it with some wine. “What? You think I’m incapable of doing something without your watchful eye?”

  Marac glanced at Laedron, then said, “No, of course not.”

  “Good,” Brice said, rising. “See you in the morning.”

  Having finished his meal, Laedron stood once Brice had left. “I’m going to get some rest, too, if I can.”

  “Goodnight, friend,” Piers said.

  * * *

  An hour or more passed, and Laedron lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Why can’t I sleep? After two whole days of being awake, I don’t tire? What sort of cruel joke is this?