Artesans of Albia

by Cas Peace

  Her words struck something inside him. For some reason it had never occurred to him that there were other ways to break the field. She had used her hands as a focus for interrupting and dispersing the power, but that had never worked for him. Was there something else that might? He narrowed his eyes in thought, searching for an answer. Then, slowly, he began to smile.

  He held out both hands, palms upward. Drawing on his will, concentrating on the space between his hands, he called forth a shaft of Fire and held it there. Molding it to his will, he forged it until it became a glowing, flaming sword across his hands.

  Sullyan nodded, pride shining in her eyes. “Yes, my love!”

  Taking the hilt of his creation in both hands, he raised it high above his head. He saw Taran grinning, and knew the man recognized the powerful overhead stroke Robin used to bring the fiery blade whistling around him. He wasn’t the only one to let out a joyful cry of triumph as it connected with the Firefield in a shower of sparks, shattering the glowing cage completely.

  + + + + +

  The cheers and roars of approval were deafening. Ignoring them all, Robin broke with protocol again. Without waiting for Pharikian’s formal confirmation, he sprinted for the platform, leaping the steps to gather Sullyan into his arms. Under the circumstances, the Hierarch forgave the new Master his impetuousness.

  Sullyan was fighting for breath when Robin finally released her. Her terrifying experience had drained her, and she was being supported solely by the stubbornness of her will. Her body was trembling with emotion.

  Robin was also unsteady as he stood by her side, his face pale and his heart thumping. He had no breath for speech. To give them time to compose themselves, General Blaine came forward, offering the new Major and Master Artesan his congratulations. Robin shook his hand and returned the General’s grin. Then Blaine turned to Sullyan and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “You witch! You always did know how to make an entrance.”

  She covered his hand with her own. “Believe me, Mathias, that was one entrance I would much rather not have made.”

  King Elias stepped into her view. “I think we’d better get on with things, my Lord. The … Major looks like she could do with some rest.”

  His slight hesitation made her frown, but his next act stretched her eyes wide. Extending his hand to Blaine, he accepted a rank badge. Then he moved around to face her and spoke in formal tones.

  “Major Brynne Sullyan. For services rendered to the Crown of Albia, both here and in the Fifth Realm of Andaryon, for actions beyond the call of duty, and in recognition of your skills and unwavering loyalty, we hereby accord you the rank of Colonel.”

  To her utter amazement, he pinned a triple-thunderflash rank insignia to the dress jacket she wore. Giving a small gasp, she stared at him. Then, remembering protocol, she saluted as best she could.

  Elias returned her homage with a smile. Lowering his voice so that only she would hear him over the resurgence of cheers from the men, he told her, “There is a matter which we need to discuss privately, but it can wait until you’re stronger.” She bowed her head over his ring, her eyes brimming. “Besides,” he continued, “I believe your ordeal is not yet over.”

  She gave him a puzzled glance. He didn’t speak again, moving away as Blaine and Vassa came over to offer their congratulations. Once they were done, the Hierarch approached her.

  “My child,” he said gently, “I am so very glad to see you returned, but we will share our joy later. Now, there is another matter over which I must preside. You may think it inopportune, and I ask your forgiveness, but this is actually a very appropriate moment. This is your natal day. Twenty-four years ago today, almost to the hour, your mother gave you life. Because of this, all four elements are in concord with your psyche. And so, Brynne Sullyan, Artesan Master-elite, I have decided to set you your final test of Mastery.”

  Robin gasped in protest and stepped forward, but Sullyan waved him back. “No, Robin, his Majesty is right. Today is a very appropriate day. As he says, twenty-four years ago today, I was born. A short while ago, thanks to Deshan and Rienne, I was reborn, for they showed me the way back when I could not find it. And so, this is a doubly special day.”

  She turned back to the Hierarch. “I accept the trial, Majesty. What is your test?”

  Pharikian smiled down at her, approval in his eyes. “It is very simple. I merely require you to demonstrate your Mastery over each of the four elements.”

  Sullyan inclined her head before turning to Robin. “Will you help me? I feel I need a little strength.”

  He frowned as he bent forward to take her arm. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  She gazed up at him, fathomless love warming her soul. With a gentle hand, she caressed his cheek. “It will be alright, Robin. I just need your support for a while, that is all. As I always will.”

  Unable to refuse, Robin lent her some strength. As she moved to the platform railing another crescendo of cheers greeted her and tears came to her eyes. Eventually, an expectant hush fell. Sullyan felt her pupils dilate as she concentrated her will.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Then the massed men on the parade ground began to shift as they realized they could feel a tremor beneath their feet. Horses stamped and snorted. The air in the arena grew hazy, becoming opalescent. Those in the pavilion, and especially those who were Artesans, could see the telltale shimmer of Earth’s puissance rising from the ground, arcing upward to be held in place like a shield over the area. Sunshine slanted through the pearliness, and the men glanced around in amazement. Some even reached out as if they could touch the haze that flowed and shimmered before their eyes.

  Then the air grew moist as Water condensed out of the atmosphere. It didn’t settle on the ground or their clothes—rather it hung over their heads like a dome of droplets, glittering in the sunlight like miniature stars, casting tiny, perfect rainbows through the pearly shimmer. The effect was quite stunning.

  Sullyan breathed deeply, knowing Robin was keeping an eye on her. He held tightly to her arm to support her. She was becoming rapt in her expenditure of power, and ignored the drain on her energies.

  Her pupils were as wide as they could go, and even Pharikian was impressed when she called Fire while still maintaining control over the other two elements. Her Fire came in the form of a myriad of tiny flashes of lightning, sparking within the misty cloud. They shattered the miniature rainbows, which reformed again and again. Sullyan smiled despite the tiny beads of perspiration gathering on her brow. Was it from the strain of being lost in the Veils, or the effects of controlling so much power? She neither knew nor cared. This was glorious.

  A sound began to swell. It started gently, like a sigh, growing in depth and tone until it thundered like a rushing waterfall. The misty dome of Earth and Water began to shimmer, rolling and bulging like some giant bubble. The flags and banners around the arena snapped and streamed as a powerful warm wind caught them. Dust motes swirled among the rainbows, gyring into the air.

  Sullyan closed her eyes, feeling her energy drain. Robin stirred beside her. “Enough!” he hissed. She didn’t reply. She couldn’t afford to break her concentration. She needed to reaffirm her control over her powers, and she needed to experience once more the dizzying elation of glory that only came with testing one’s power to its limits.

  Reaching deep within to her final reserves, she spread her fingers, arms at shoulder height. The wind she had called raced sunwise around her display, spinning the mist, Fire, and Earth-shimmer up into an elegantly twisting column. It reached for the sky, extending hundreds of feet before abruptly snapping upward, vanishing into the blue.

  There was stunned silence. Then her audience burst into wild acclaim, roaring their approval and stamping their feet. Sullyan slumped, panting, caught immediately by Robin. Pharikian, his eyes full of loving admiration, approached her. There was an expression of intense pride on his face.

  To Sullyan’s embarrassment, the Hierarch
of Andaryon, Timar Pharikian, Senior Master Artesan, knelt before her and accorded her the brow-lips-heart salute owed to the Mastery she had shown. Then he stood and confirmed her status. Every Artesan present accorded her the same homage and she waved her acknowledgement, her vision blurring with tears.

  Pharikian stepped closer and put an arm around her shoulders. “That was an astonishing display, child. Especially coming so soon after your recent traumatic experience. I will want to hear the details, but first you need to rest and take some sustenance.” He turned to the two men behind him. “Your Majesty, General Blaine, might I suggest we go somewhere more private?”

  The General inclined his head and gestured for Colonel Vassa to lead the way back to the Manor. Elias walked beside Sullyan as Pharikian turned her to follow them, his arm still around her shoulder. “I don’t want the details yet, but I have to ask. Did you succeed in destroying the Staff?”

  She glanced up at him. “Oh yes, the device has been completely destroyed.” Nodding in satisfaction, Pharikian led her from the parade ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The party walking away from the pavilion spared not one glance for Baron Reen. His presence was clearly not required, and certainly didn’t warrant concern. At any other time this would have caused him severe irritation, but not now. Right now, he could hardly have cared less if no one thought of him ever again.

  He was frozen in place, his hands gripping the back of a chair. He stared at nothing, his eyes wide, mouth agape. A tremble began in his fingers that slowly climbed to his shoulders. As it reached his chest, the thumping of his heart sped up.

  Words echoed around his mind, the woman’s voice scouring his nerves.

  “The device has been completely destroyed.”

  He lurched as nausea rolled in his guts, his fingers losing their grip. One hand flew to his mouth as bile suddenly rose in his throat. He doubled up, swallowing painfully, but the battle was lost. His plans, his world, maybe his very existence, had been wiped away by those simple, terrible words.

  “… completely destroyed.”

  Swaying to one side, Reen flailed for support. He was dizzy, he couldn’t focus his eyes. His legs refused to hold him as he stumbled toward the back of the pavilion. His stomach heaved again and he collapsed to the grass, explosively losing his lunch.

  + + + + +

  The senior officers’ hall was a large and airy room. It occupied the entire width of one wing and boasted full length windows along one wall, giving stunning views of the Manor grounds.

  The wood-paneled room was comfortably appointed with plenty of easy chairs and couches. It boasted two large hearths, one at either end, which brought welcome warmth to the walls and flagged floor. A long refectory table laden with all manner of foods sat along the wall opposite the windows, and the spicy aroma of fresh fellan pervaded the air.

  The room was busier than usual as there were people present who would never normally be invited through the door. Robin had the right since his promotion to Major, but Bull, Cal, Taran, and Rienne had all been included at Sullyan’s request. Colonel Vassa, General Blaine, Timar Pharikian, his page, and Master Healer Deshan made up the full complement.

  Sullyan was feeling weak and had not been able to hide this from Deshan. She only got as far as the nearest couch before he firmly ordered her to sit. Bull and Robin waited on her hand and foot. Realizing the futility of protest, she accepted their attentions with good grace. Once everyone else was comfortably seated and served with fellan, General Blaine opened proceedings by formally introducing Sullyan’s companions, ensuring that Elias was aware of their talents and status.

  Since his unprecedented acceptance of her Oath of Allegiance at Loxton Castle eight years ago, Elias had followed Sullyan’s career with great interest and knew some of her history. The events of the past few months, however, needed fleshing out in greater detail, and Blaine quickly dealt with them, inviting comments from Robin as necessary. He glossed over their suspicions concerning the Staff and a possible plot against Artesans, as there was a pressing matter to be dealt with.

  Once Blaine fell silent, Elias glanced at Sullyan. She was curled on the couch beside him, Robin at her feet as usual. The sandy-haired monarch smiled warmly.

  “Colonel, are you able to recount your experiences now? We are all intrigued by what happened. We don’t want to tire you, but some of us have a most urgent curiosity.”

  He glanced at Pharikian, who nodded.

  Sullyan took a breath and placed her cup on the small table at her elbow. It was instantly refilled by Robin, who knew it would take a deal of strong fellan to get her through the next few days. Thanking him with a glance, she laced her hands around her knees while she ordered her thoughts. Then slowly, mainly to give Elias some points of reference, she recounted her experience of using Rykan’s Staff to purge his poison. Once Elias understood some of the Staff’s properties and capabilities, she told him the tale of its destruction.

  Elias was fascinated, and when she was done, he asked Rienne for her account of how she had found Sullyan’s psyche. The healer gave him a shy smile.

  “I hadn’t planned to go searching for Brynne at that moment, your Majesty. In fact, I wasn’t feeling too well. I’d had a bad night and was still suffering with a headache my herbs couldn’t cure. So when Deshan came to see me, I asked him for something stronger. It was while I was waiting for his potion to work that I somehow slipped …” She stopped and stared accusingly at Deshan. “You planned for that to happen! You didn’t give me a headache cure—you drugged me!”

  Cal rounded instantly on Deshan. “Is that true? Did you drug Rienne without her knowledge?”

  The Master Healer smiled calmly. “I came today with the intention of testing whether Rienne’s unique bond with Brynne could be used to track Brynne’s psyche.” He cocked his head at Rienne. “I apologize, my dear, for my little deception, but I needed you fully relaxed. I feared that if I told you, tension and anxiety would cloud your mind and prevent you from being open to your link with Brynne.”

  Rienne waved a hand, dismissing his apology. Cal, however, wasn’t mollified. She ruffled his hair and he subsided. Then she related how she had used the music she had heard to help her find Sullyan’s psyche.

  Elias shook his head. “I see that there is much I do not understand, and probably never will. We shall leave it at that, and simply be thankful for the strong ties of friendship.” He leaned back on the couch, appreciatively sipping the fresh fellan Bull handed him. Then his gaze fell on Pharikian. “So then, tell me about this artifact—the Staff. How did your Lord Rykan get hold of it? Where did it come from?”

  Pharikian pursed his lips. “We cannot fully answer that, Elias. We have no clear evidence as to its origins, only guesses. And we only have theories as to how and why it was made.”

  “Tell me your theories then, if you will.”

  The Hierarch relayed all the information and discussions he and Sullyan had had before the Staff’s destruction. He finished by telling Elias how certain he was that no one in Andaryon had created the device.

  Elias’s sharp blue eyes narrowed in displeasure. “Are you saying the Staff was devised and made here, in Albia?”

  Pharikian spread his hands. “It is pure speculation. We offer the theory simply because it is the only one making any kind of sense. None of the other realms have ever given us cause to think they would conspire against Artesans, and I doubt whether any of their nobles would be wealthy enough to afford the raw materials. In Albia, however, not only do you have many wealthy and influential nobles capable of funding the device, but also—and I beg your pardon, Elias—Artesans are generally reviled. It would be perfectly possible for such a powerful Artesan to exist here without anyone’s knowledge. I can easily credit that Rykan found, or was found by, an Albian ally.

  “Those are our theories, and only one question remains. Do you have any thoughts on who could be behind such a plot? We need to identify them quickly, f
or they will likely be furious at the collapse of their plans, not to mention the destruction of such a rare and costly artifact.”

  Elias’s eyes hardened. He clearly didn’t like what he had heard. Sullyan could see that Pharikian’s all-too-plausible theory had put him on the back foot. He had not expected such a hypothesis and was unsure how to respond. Yes, there were plenty of self-serving and ambitious nobles in Albia and although the King bestowed close—and unwelcome—attention on some, he could not keep an eye on each one. This was precisely why he had appointed Blaine as his General-in-Command after the civil war, ordering him to inspect, shake up, and re-fortify every garrison in every province. Elias quite rightly didn’t intend to suffer his father’s fate, and was not so naïve as to believe that every lord who had been involved—or had approved of—King Kandaran’s murder had been killed, bound over by treaties, or rooted out and exposed.

  Although Elias could name no immediate suspects, he would know that Pharikian’s theory could quite easily be fact. He could express his willingness to accept it in principle, but she thought he probably wasn’t quite sure yet how far to trust his brother monarch. Their respect and liking for each other, mutual and instant though it was, was young. She hoped he had no wish to jeopardize its growth, yet she could see he wasn’t inclined to discuss any of his realm’s underlying problems.

  She turned to Pharikian. “Majesty, King Elias needs time to assimilate what he has heard and, if he feels it politic, make some discreet enquiries of his own. After all, this is a delicate matter which requires careful handling. In the meantime, we, as Artesans, need not be idle. If there is a highly ranked and undiscovered Master Artesan in Albia, we need to find him. We have our own resources for that. And if, as we suspect, he was coerced, then he might need our help. Nothing more need be decided at present.”

  Elias regarded her, his face slowly clearing to reveal a smile. “Colonel Sullyan, I can see why you are valued as a diplomat. I am fortunate indeed to have found such a talented Envoy. That was very tactfully put.