The Mage Trials
Page 14
Soren nodded, murmuring, “Where do we get it though? It is not as if they would trumpet their crimes in the streets.”
Jela let her breath out in a low hiss and her expression returned to her normal stoic demeanor… if one ignored the way a vein throbbed in her temple. “They must have somebody local,” she said, biting out every word. “The assassin was there mere days after the marriage suit - while they could contact him from outside, it is far more likely that somebody in Sirala set this up. Soren, do you know any members of the Gazif family who would be in the area?”
Soren’s eyebrows knitted together but he shook his head. The three of them continued talking, yet something niggled at Rian’s thoughts, something about the Gold Road and holdings… What was it again?
Oh! He snapped his fingers. “Soren, do you still have the marriage dossiers?”
The man in question blinked but brought them out of one of his belt-pouches.
As Rian’s elders looked curiously at him, he leafed through the many loose pages until he found one named ‘Rakalos’. Jabbing a finger about halfway down the page, he said, “Here! ‘The Rakalos family was doing poorly so they sold their trading house for the Sirala-Xeris trade route to Mika Gazif!”
“I’ll be damned,” Soren peered at it closely, his voice hushed. “Rian’s right and that trading house is based right here in Sirala. She’s third in line to one of the secondary branches but still a Gazif. Through her, they could set up the attack. It all fits.”
“How do we prove that she was involved with my attacker, though?”
Eldrie smiled warmly. “Don’t fret over this, my son. You have done the family a grand service this day and I am very proud of you for finding this, but let us handle finding the proof needed. You just focus on staying safe.”
“With all due respect, an assassin attacked me yesterday. I won’t be safe until the Gazifs are stopped. Please, let me help.”
“I am not -”
Jela laid a hand on her husband’s shoulders, quelling him with a whisper before she turned to Rian. “My son… He hears that an assassin is trying to hunt him down and his first instinct is to try to hunt down his attacker first. With this sort of bravery it is certain you will bring pride and honor to House Miel.”
“Err, thank you, mother,” Rian said, his face flushing. In truth, his concern was more for his life than some desire to catch his attacker, but the praise felt good nonetheless.
“Still, I must agree with your father on this one. Putting yourself out there is the very thing the Gazifs would love to see. If you chase them down, you make yourself an easy target. Far better to lie in wait in a safe haven and make them strike first.” She nodded slowly, weighing him with her gaze. It must have gone in his favor, as she continued, ”Keep your eyes and ears open though, as if we can obtain proof of either this Mika Gazif ordering the attack or the assassin serving the Gazifs, we will surely be able to gain our liege lord’s aid in crushing them, perhaps even that of King Zeruel himself.”
“I will keep that in mind, mother.”
“That said, the question remains as to where that safe haven might be.” She returned her attention to Soren. “Will it be safe for Rian to finish the Mage Trials or should he return home immediately?”
Rian’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t thought of that. To be forced to give up only one trial away from the end... The idea was maddening, to be so close and still have to go home, but what would he do if his parents demanded that he return for his own safety?
Soren must have known his thoughts, as he glanced at him before saying, “It may be necessary to return before long but I would want a few days to obtain sufficient guards for the journey anyway. Returning too quickly might even be what the Gazifs are hoping for: that he is scared out of Sirala and into the roads outside, an easy target for a ‘band of bandits’ to strike. No, I think it best we take the time to gather a powerful enough force beforehand.”
Giving me enough time to finish the Third Trial. Yes! He could have kissed Soren full on the mouth for that. He could stay!
His euphoria must have shown on his face, as his father chuckled. “Now, until this assassin is dealt with, we don’t want you to take any excessive risks. After the Mage Trials are finished, return to our castle until this matter is resolved. However, once it is, I see no reason you couldn’t start at the Royal Academy.”
Although he was not thrilled at possibly having to wait to attend the academy, it was understandable and could be revisited later if need be, so he nodded in acceptance and his family turned to the details of the return trip home. He stayed quiet, letting his elders debate over the exact provisions. Instead, his thoughts were of what was to come. The only way to avoid having to return home was to find proof first.
While the smart thing may have been to stay inside and hide… that was before his attendance at the academy had been at risk. His parents might want him to remain behind closed doors, but he resolved not to let some assassin keep him from his dreams, not now, not ever. He would not be foolish by any means but he would do whatever he could to help in the hunt, regardless of how nervous he was.
Soon enough, the elders came to an agreement on the arrangements and Jela said, “Alright, begin the search for the assassin as soon as practicable, and Rian?”
“Yes, mother?”
“Be sure to thank that Sachiel Licourt woman appropriately - regardless of who she is and what the Crimson Order has done, she has been an aid to House Miel and has saved my son’s life. She deserves our gratitude.”
He had no objection.
Chapter Ten
As Soren explained it, the first step in the plan to find the assassin was to scour the Royal Academy for any sign of him. It was highly unlikely he was still there of course, but if they could just figure out how he’d gotten in or escaped afterward, that would give them something to start with.
It was a good idea, Rian felt, but it had a couple of downsides. First, it was tedious as they went from person to person asking the same three questions: ‘Where were you during the attack?’, ‘Did you see this man?’ and his personal favorite ‘Have you heard of anyone who has?’.
Those at the academy had been as helpful as they could, eager to aid them in the capture of this invader of their sacred domain, and had provided every bit of information that they could… to his and Soren’s detriment. Over the course of the morning, they learned that a trade dispute had raised prices on bread, two of the servants were engaged in a subtle war over the cleaning and the head chef and one of the proctors were engaged in a torrid romance, but absolutely nothing about their target.
Second, he once more had to deal with the only person at the Royal Academy he despised more than Dalmarn. At least this time, Soren wasn’t nearly as calm about the matter.
“I have asked you once and I’ll ask you again: ‘Did you see that man?’”
“Can’t say I recall anyone coming through this gate in armor like that,” said the same Redcloak who’d harassed Alensia, a damn smile on his face. He idly leaned against the white marble, stroking his beard without concern.
Soren looked like he wanted nothing more than to wring the man’s neck. Unlike everyone else, this bastard took a sadistic pleasure in answering each question in as vague a manner as he possibly could. By this point, a small crowd had gathered around, tittering as the argument continued on.
“But he wouldn’t have been wearing any armor until the Sacrelith was activated,” Ambrose said. Soren had chosen him to be their liaison with the Royal Academy during the search as he was the one most invested in their survival. “Did you see anyone carrying one, Graff?”
“Hmm, I suppose I might have.” The guard - Graff, apparently - scratched his chin. “What’s he look like without the armor?”
“You know damn well that if we knew what he looked like without it, we would have said that in the first place!” Soren roared. “Damn it, did anyone come in carrying black or purple daggers?”
Soren looked as if he might explode but he visibly swallowed his anger. “My… apologies,” he said, murder in his eyes, “the pressure of the investigation... is getting to me.” A breath hissed between grinding teeth. “Did anyone carrying black or purple daggers come in through your gate?”
Satisfied by Soren’s capitulation, Graff said with a sneer, “Like I said earlier, nobody wearing that armor nor wielding those daggers came through here. If he made it inside, it wasn’t through this gate.”
“Thank you,” Soren growled before storming off, shoving past the onlookers. When Rian and Ambrose followed him, his breath thundered with rage. “Damn that man! When I get my hands on him…”
“Which one? Graff or the assassin?”
“Either! Both! I don’t care!” Soren clenched and unclenched his fists but he slowly managed to calm himself down, smoothing the tunic that had been wrinkled by his furious movements. “The worst part is that we haven’t managed to uncover anything this whole morning. Nobody spotted the assassin until after he attacked, and while the gate was apparently secure, there was a multitude of ways he could have gotten in or out.”
Wasn’t that true? As they’d discovered to their dismay, even ignoring the entrances for things like food and other supplies, a number of the magi had private entrances and exits from the academy. “He must have dispelled his armor after the battle, then slipped out amongst the apprentices or trainees in the confusion.”
“Ugh, if we were closer to our holdings, I could draw upon our contacts, but here I’m all but blind.” Soren’s eyes fell upon Ambrose, who shook his head.
“S-Sorry, your lordships,” Ambrose stuttered, “but I’ve never needed to know any assassins and don’t know anyone who would.” He forced a watery smile. “At least there are guards at all known entrances now and they will be paying close attention with what happened.”
“The problem there is the word ‘known’. If our assassin is working with one of the magi who has a private entrance, those guards will be of little help.”
“Our retainers will be here within a few days,” Rian reminded him, hoping to cheer him up a little. ”With that, we will have both extra protection and people to hunt down information, yes?” Or return home if it is absolutely necessary.
The words mollified Soren a little but he grumbled all the same. ”That will help, and perhaps we’ll have better luck trying to get proof of the Gazifs hiring the assassin once they arrive, but I doubt we’ll be so lucky. Damn it, the more time we give them, the better they’ll be able to cover their tracks!” He massaged his forehead; sweat covered it and beaded down to his tunic, courtesy of both the long hours of questioning potential witnesses and the sun high overhead.
Based on the odor coming from his own shoulders, Rian suspected he wasn’t any better off. ”There are other ways to investigate them,” he ventured. ”Perhaps instead of trying to prove the Gazifs hired the assassin, prove that the assassin was working with the Gazifs.”
“We’d have to find him first is the problem.” Still, Soren tapped his chin in thought. “Our best bet would be to set a trap for him, but we should wait until the retainers arrive before we take the chance.” He glanced at Rian. ”Let Ambrose and I do some research for now. Do as you will in the meantime. Just don't do anything risky. Prepare for that trial of yours if you like.”
Although a tempting thought, he had other responsibilities. “Actually, I might see if I can find Miss Licourt first.”
Soren grimaced but nodded reluctantly. “Very well, there is probably no safer a place for you and your mother does have a point. Miss Licourt did save your life, something deserving our appreciation.” Despite his words’ seeming kindness, he bit them out as if each were poison in his mouth and his frown deepened. “It’s almost funny. Five years ago, ten years ago, I had respect for the Crimson Order. They might have been opposed to us at times, but they had some honor and decency. After what they did though… even thanking her makes me sick.”
Rian had mixed feelings about it himself. Beyond her saving his life, Sachiel had been rather kind to him, yet her choice in allegiance remained… For both his benefit and Soren’s, he said, “After I am finished, preparing for the Third Trial would probably be best. Would you prefer it if I stayed in our rooms? For safety’s sake?
“That would be best, I think. The academy has provided additional guards and added several protective enchantments to the door. Of all the places in the academy, it is perhaps the safest.”
“Very well, I will be -“
"Your lordships," Ambrose said, looking past them with a polite smile. "It seems like we might have some reinforcements after all."
Three figures in red cloaks approached. One was a skinny man whose face was beginning to gain its first lines. He carried a longbow on his back whose subtle wear indicated many years of experience and use.
The second of their number was a rather short woman who looked as if she had just reached her age of majority. She peered around with beady black eyes, nervously fingering a Spellstone at her belt. A mage, or at least one in training, but one who had chosen to join the Crimson Order. His approval for her ability warred with disappointment for who she chose to serve.
Their leader stood in front of them both, a tall, thick-bodied woman with a flail strapped to her back. She sized them up with a hard look before giving a barely-audible sigh. Still, she came over and offered a hand to Soren. "My name is Aribeth, captain of the Crimson Order. The recent attack has concerned the king. As a symbol of that concern, he has assigned us to investigate."
Soren took it with a polite bow. “House Miel certainly appreciates whatever aid the king can provide in such a trying time.”
Aribeth’s face showed little emotion, but she nodded, her shaggy black hair swaying with the movement. "The Crimson Order would be honored to work beside you in bringing the attacker to justice. Now, we understand that you have been looking into the matter yourselves. Please provide us with everything you have learned."
Soren's expression didn't change from it's welcoming smile, but his eyes tightened just a little, noticeable only to Rian.
"Certainly," he said, "Ambrose and I will give you every bit of information that we have uncovered in catching the vile thing that attacked my ward. Might I have a moment with him to begin with though?"
After a moment’s consideration, Aribeth waved her hand in acquiescence. “Fine, although we would like to speak with him as well. As both a target and a witness, he might know something of value about the attacker.”
“Good, good…” Soren took Rian aside. Softly, he said, "I want to see what help they will provide, what direction their evidence is leading toward.”
He understood. The Crimson Order might be looking to catch the criminal or they might be trying to smooth things over and avoid a noble power struggle, regardless of having to whitewash House Gazif's crimes.
A little louder, Soren continued, “Milord, try and answer their questions as best you can. Facts first, no speculation.”
That message was equally clear: keep the Gazif suspicions to himself, for now at least. “Very well,” he turned to Aribeth, “would you prefer to discuss this out here or somewhere more private?”
Aribeth furrowed her eyebrow before turning to her companions. “Nayla.” The other woman bobbed her head in acknowledgment. “You interview him. Gelthos, Chancellor Spinner and I will discuss the progress they’ve made on their investigation.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nayla took him to a room that had been set aside for the Crimson Order. It was only furnished with a table and a pair of hard-backed chairs, while the door that clicked shut behind him was thick and heavy, and had an elaborate lock besides; it gave it the feel of an interrogation room.
No, he corrected himself, it was an interrogation room. Why would they need one for me? I didn’t d
o anything. Still, he maintained his composure as best he could, trying not to let his worry show.
She waited until he took his seat before she sat across from him, her back so straight that she could have used it as a measuring stick. He suspected that she was attempting to appear experienced but it only made her look new and like she was trying too hard. Quill and parchment in hand, she said, "From my understanding, the attack began when Warrior Sachiel was taking you to the healing ward after your Second Trial. Tell me what happened.”
Her demeanor was welcoming, like talking to one of his cousins, but he didn’t trust it. Soren’s words reminded him not to take any chances. "It all started when…" He cataloged the battle from beginning to end, sticking to the facts the entire time.
She dutifully took notes and every so often would ask a clarifying question, but for the most part, she let him tell his tale in silence.
Finally, he came to the end. "...I was able to block enough of his attack for Sachiel to protect me and drive him off. Still, he came within inches of assassinating me.”
There was a pause before Nayla continued the scratching of her quill. "I see. Were you able to see or deduce anything notable about your attacker?"
“Not as much as I would like, I am afraid. His garb hid much of him from view, but I noticed that he had a scar on his chin."
"Hmm... have you encountered this man before?"
"Not looking like that, no. It is possible that I may have seen him on the way to the second trial though."
She tapped the table as she considered. “Do you know who might be responsible for the attack?"
He hesitated. In spite of Soren’s words, he was tempted. He could explain that House Gazif was responsible but informing one of the King's own soldiers was tantamount to an open accusation in front of all Rasgor. He couldn’t take the chance. They had some evidence now, but it would be easy enough for the Gazifs to argue it away as circumstantial. More would be needed before they took that step.