Into Vushaar

by Robert M Kerns

  Kiri took a breath and shrugged, saying, “What’s past is past, Father. There’s no need to dwell on it, but I would be dishonest if I didn’t explain how anxious the idea of resuming my responsibilities makes me. I’m not sure it’s my place anymore.”

  “Nonsense,” Terris scoffed. “It has always been your place.”

  “What does the Privy Council say?”

  “I’ve not asked. At this time, only Q’Orval, myself, and those Cavaliers who work the Residence know you’re alive, let alone returned to us.”

  Kiri took a deep breath and nodded. “Please call a meeting, then, Father. We should start with them, and I would ask that Gavin and Lillian be there as well.”

  The Privy Council served as an advisory body to the king and was as close to a cross-section of the kingdom’s population as could be achieved. There were thirteen members: four from the working-class citizens, four from the merchant middle class, and four from the traditional aristocracy. Q’Orval served as the final member.

  The Privy Council met in a small conference room just down the hall from the large meeting space that currently served as a war room. A large, circular table occupied the center of the room, and said table had two seats—both ornately carved and inlaid—that awaited the final attendees. For almost four years, one of those chairs sat empty.

  The members were seated around the table, and everyone—aside from Q’Orval—kept glancing at the corner of the room. Two, rather plush chairs occupied a corner near the door, and they were not normal furniture for the room. What attracted even more surreptitious attention was that the occupants of those seats were not even Vushaari. Gavin and Lillian sat in those chairs, and more than one councilmember regarded Gavin with unease, bordering on outright fear.

  The meeting room’s door opened, and a Cavalier stepped into the room and stepped to the right side of the door before snapping to attention and announcing, “Ladies and gentlemen, His Majesty Terris Muran, King of Vushaar!”

  Gavin, Lillian, Q’Orval, and those members of the Privy Council not of the aristocracy were on their feet by the time the Cavalier reached ‘Majesty’ in his annunciation. The members of the aristocracy were on their feet by the time Terris entered the room, with the Cavalier closing the door after Terris’s passage.

  Terris walked to the table and stood behind his customary seat, nodding to each person in turn as he said, “I want to thank you all for coming on such short notice. I asked for this meeting to discuss a situation many have broached these past few weeks, specifically my heir. Please, be seated.”

  Everyone assumed their seats.

  “Almost four years ago now,” Terris continued, “the courier Sprite went down in a storm while crossing the Inner Sea from Birsha to Tel Mivar. At the time, we believed there were no survivors. We were wrong.” Terris nodded to the Cavalier.

  The Cavalier opened the door once again and stepped to the customary position, snapping to attention once more and saying, “Your Majesty, ladies and gentlemen, Her Highness Kiri Muran!”

  Terris, Q’Orval, Gavin, and Lillian stood, leading the room amidst a chorus of astonished gasps. Even as they rose, the members of the Privy Council spun to face the door as Kiri strode into the room. Gavin saw one man’s eyes narrow at the sight of Kiri, and Gavin had the feeling that man deserved further attention.

  Kiri walked to the unoccupied chair at her father’s right side and nodded to the council, saying, “Thank you.” Her voice was strong and, as far as Gavin was concerned, beautiful as always. As Terris sat, everyone else did as well.

  “Your Majesty,” a man said, and Gavin thought it was the man he wanted to know more about, “while we are all overjoyed to see Her Highness returned to us, we must consider that returning Her Highness to the position of Crown Princess would only serve to delay the dynastic crisis what I’m sure we all hope would be a great many years. Everyone knows those who have been branded cannot bear or sire children.”

  “You are correct, Count Varkas,” Terris said. “However, efforts are already underway to devise a way to remove the slave mark from my daughter.”

  Kiri’s eyes shot to her father, her expression making it clear she knew of no such efforts.

  “While we all know of Fallon’s prowess with Art, Your Majesty,” Count Varkas responded, “no records—or even rumors—exist of anyone ever successfully removing a slave mark. Do we really want to risk Her Highness’s life on a fool’s errand?”

  “I couldn’t be more pleased with Fallon’s service as Court Wizard, but he isn’t conducting the research into the slave marks,” Terris said.

  “If I may, Your Majesty, may we know who is?”

  Gavin stood and took two steps toward the table, saying, “That would be me.”

  “And just who are…you,” Count Varkas’s voice trailed off to a whisper as his eyes locked on Gavin’s medallion. Gavin could’ve been wrong, but he thought he saw some color leave the man’s face. The silence that descended upon the room quickly approached the level of awkward.

  “If you would, please introduce yourself for anyone who may not be familiar with the House Glyphs,” Terris said.

  Gavin nodded once. “My name is Gavin Cross; I am Kirloth. My associate is Lillian, heir to House Mivar and one of my apprentices.”

  The silence in the room was so thorough and pervasive as the members of the Privy Council stared at Gavin with wide eyes, a pin striking the stone floor in the hall outside would have been an ear-splitting cacophony…much like Gavin’s thunderclap a few days before.

  A middle-aged man with many laugh lines around his eyes and mouth was the first to break the silence. He was one of those representing the merchants and middle class. “Sir, if I may, I would very much like to shake your hand after the meeting. I am Cyril, a proud member of the Glaziers’ Association for many years, and I was told that you are to thank for the cornucopia of work we now have. It had been a bit of a drought, what with the siege and all.”

  Gavin pushed himself as far into the ‘Kirloth’ mindset as he could to stave off the acute embarrassment he felt trying to color his cheeks and ears. He nodded once and returned to his seat.

  “While it is impossible to gauge a timeframe for such things, Count Varkas,” Terris said, resuming the meeting, “I have no doubt at all my daughter will not suffer that mark forever.”

  Gavin made certain to memorize the man’s name for a conversation he planned to have with Declan after the meeting.

  “Your Majesty,” one of worker-class representatives said at the conclusion of a few moments of whispers between them, “Her Highness’s compassion, honor, and dedication to the people of Vushaar are almost legendary, and we see no reason to continue the dynastic discussion at this time, as the Crown Princess never died.”

  Those representing the merchants and middle class whispered among themselves for a few moments before Cyril spoke, “We of the merchants and middle class would like to add our support to that, Your Majesty, and furthermore, we believe it would do the people some good if Her Highness’s return were announced as soon as practically possible.”

  “Your Majesty,” Count Varkas said, “forgive me, but I would like to take a moment to address a complaint one of my constituents made not too long ago.”

  “Oh? What is this complaint?” Terris asked.

  “Some weeks ago, Janson Roensil, his daughter, and thirteen of their most loyal retainers were murdered in cold blood, and I must regretfully inform you that the man responsible for their deaths is none other than the man you’re relying on to be Her Highness’s savior from the slave mark. I demand Gavin Cross be charged with mass murder.”

  “This is a very grave charge indeed,” Terris said. “Gavin, what have you to say in response?”

  Gavin stood and approached the table.

  “I do not deny in the least that I killed those people, but I dispute the characterization that it was murder,” Gavin said, drawing a gasp from certain members of the council. “What he’s not te
lling you is that I killed them only after they refused to surrender, having led a force upwards of twelve hundred mercenaries to murder everyone at the Claymark estate and take their lands. Janson Roensil died not fifty yards from Claymark’s front gate.” Gavin paused and frowned. “I’m sorry, Terris; it’s been so long I can’t speak to the statement that my blood was cold when I killed them. I simply don’t remember my emotional state at the time.”

  “Roensil attacked the Claymarks?” Terris asked. “I thought my father settled that years ago.”

  Gavin shrugged. “Apparently, Roensil decided to bet on Ivarson and move against your father-in-law. There were some rumors that he was selling grain to Ivarson’s army, but I’ve not had the opportunity to investigate further.”

  “This is sovereign Vushaari soil,” Count Varkas said, his voice a growl. “What gives you the right to investigate anything?”

  “You make a very good point; however, forgive me for being crass, but who’s going to stop me? Those people were clear and present threats to individuals under my protection, and I will respond to all such threats. I don’t care where I am. I don’t intend anyone offense, but I will not stand by and allow my people to be threatened.”

  Chapter 29

  Kiri pulled Lillian into an embrace as they left the dining room for the sitting room in Kiri’s suite and held that embrace for several moments. Upon separating, Kiri indicated the various sitting possibilities around the room as she sat in a loveseat beneath a window and folded her legs to one side, leaning against the loveseat’s arm.

  “It’s so good to see you again, Lillian,” Kiri said as Lillian duplicated Kiri’s pose in the sofa across from her. “There have been quite a few ‘Crown Princess’ moments lately, and I find myself looking back to the days when I was just Kiri.”

  “It’s good to see you again, too. I’m sure Gavin wouldn’t mind you leaving with us when we go, if all this is so unpleasant.”

  Kiri shook her head. “It’s a nice fantasy, but I’m a Muran and the last of my line as of this moment. I owe it to the people of Vushaar to be their Crown Princess and—one day—their Queen.”

  Silence descended on the sitting room for several moments before Lillian lifted her eyes to meet Kiri’s. She took a breath and said, “Kiri, I’m very grateful for the hospitality your father has shown me and my friends, but you don’t owe the people of Vushaar anything…not one single thing. I’ve watched Gavin these past few weeks, and I have seen unguarded moments when his shoulders slump and he looks every inch to be a man shouldering a burden greater than any twelve people should ever have to bear. It won’t be tomorrow or next week or maybe even two years from now, but one day, we’ll wake up to find Gavin Cross is no more. All we’ll have left is Kirloth.”

  Kiri nodded. “I haven’t forgotten the last thing he said in the Privy Council meeting the other day. We are so alike; both of us must assume a role we wouldn’t choose for ourselves.” Silence reigned for a few moments before Kiri spoke once more. “People are still talking about what he did on the wall the other day. Could you or any of the others done that?”

  Lillian shrugged. “I…don’t know. I’m not…I don’t…this is going to sound so bad. I don’t have the capacity for sheer, unbridled destruction that Gavin does. None of us do. You have to be able to envision the effect you want to create, and none of us—not Mariana, Wynn, or Braden—could have ever envisioned that web of lightning bolts or what he did to that slaver camp. I still remember the sound of that barn roof’s spine snapping as whatever Gavin created sucked the barn in on itself.”

  “Has he said anything to you about studying the slave marks?”

  Lillian shook her head. “No, but I’m certain it’s why he built that lab. He hasn’t been working with us very much lately. He has spent time with Braden in Fallon’s tower, but Wynn, Mariana, and I have pretty much been left to our own devices. We did most of the work, protecting the wall from magic; he was there, but it was more in a supervisory role.”

  Kiri looked down at the floor for a few moments before saying, “I miss him, Lillian. A part of me almost doesn’t want the siege to end. The thought of choosing between being Crown Princess of Vushaar and leaving with you…and Gavin…tears me up inside.”

  “Well, I know where you live now. You’re only a teleportation effect away. It’s not like you’ll never see me again.”

  The next morning, Lillian sat down at the table where Gavin was eating breakfast. He nodded his greetings with a smile as he lifted a cup of tea to his lips. For the next few minutes, they each ate in silence, and even though she finished her meal well before Gavin, Lillian pushed her dishes aside and waited.

  Soon, Gavin pushed his dishes aside as well and regarded his apprentice. “Something tells me you have more on your mind than just sharing the morning meal with me.”

  Lillian took a breath, as she steadied her nerves and said, “Gavin, Kiri asked for my help back in Tel Mivar. It was during the time you were away after Marcus’s death.”

  “Okay.” Gavin shrugged. “That isn’t a problem, Lillian, and I don’t understand why you mention it now.”

  Lillian withdrew several folded pieces of parchment from within her robe. “She asked me to accompany her to the Restricted Section of the Library, and she showed me a book that detailed the creation of the slave marks. She asked for my help in deciphering a diagram of the composite effect that created the slave brand.”

  “Is that so?”

  Lillian nodded and unfolded the pages, pushing them across to Gavin. “I knew enough to identify the pieces of the effect, but I couldn’t begin to fathom how to unravel it. I made a tracing of the diagram and several notes on the description of the diagram in the book. I meant to discuss this with you…”

  “But we haven’t exactly been idle since then, have we?”

  “No, we haven’t.” Lillian fell silent for a few moments. “Gavin, have we offended you somehow?”

  Gavin frowned. “What in the world could make you think that?”

  “Well, it’s just that we haven’t seen a lot of you lately. In all truth, we didn’t think we had offended you, but I just thought I’d ask.”

  “Lillian, I’ve been wrestling with something in the back of my mind while we’ve worked on everything here, and I was very glad to see you sit with me. It saved me from having to locate one of you. Do you know the house I bought just outside the palace gates?” Lillian nodded. “I would like for you to gather Mariana, Wynn, and Braden and meet me there as soon as you can. There is a matter we must discuss.”

  It wasn’t very much later at all when Lillian led her fellow apprentices into the house Gavin purchased. Aside from five chairs in the main room, no other furniture existed. Gavin occupied one chair, and the other four were arranged in a rough semicircle facing him.

  “Thank you for coming,” Gavin said, “and please, be seated.” Once everyone was seated, Gavin continued. “I’ve never made it a secret that I don’t consider myself a master of arcane lore, but you asked me to teach you what I know; I’ve tried to do that.

  “The mentor/apprentice arrangement is an artifact of a time when the Society of the Arcane didn’t exist. There are no evaluation criteria, no rubrics setting forth guidelines to know when your apprenticeship is complete. In fact, my own research into the matter suggests that apprenticeships back then only ended when the mentor said they ended.”

  Gavin fell silent and lowered his gaze to the floor, and his friends glanced to one another as if trying to determine what was happening or what they should do. After several moments, Gavin lifted his head.

  “Lillian met me in the dining room this morning and asked if you had offended me in some way. I didn’t tell her so at the time, but nothing could be further from the truth. I am incredibly proud of each of you. You handled the composite effect to protect the city’s outer wall against magic with skill and professionalism. You have each taken multiple turns on the wall, standing guard against Ivarson’s arcanists, and
impressed those soldiers around you while you did so. I’ve heard more than one officer discuss pushing a request up the chain of command for the king to consider employing arcanists in the Army of Vushaar, based on your example alone.”

  “Don’t you think you might have had a hand in that, too, Gavin?” Lillian asked, a slight grin forming.

  Gavin shook his head. “Look around you sometime when we walk among the soldiers together, Lillian. No one wants a contingent of arcanists like me. They respect me, respect my abilities and knowledge, and appreciate my service on their behalf…but that respect is built upon a foundation of fear. Not one of them would ever invite me to sit with them in their favorite taproom and swap stories.

  “Now, as I was saying…I have been giving the matter a great deal of thought, and I have reached an inescapable conclusion. There is nothing further I can teach you. By the authority vested in me under Article 23 of the Arcanists’ Code, I declare your apprenticeships complete and grant you the rank of Magus within the Society of the Arcane.”

  Silence reigned as Gavin’s friends looked to one another, their expressions ranging from shock to disbelief.

  “But…but we’re not ready!” Mariana said.

  “Is that so? Tell me what Word you would use to invoke a fireball to use against a group attacking the city’s wall.”

  “Well, I personally would use Luhrhym, but I know you used Idluhn the other day for that lightning effect.”