by P. S. Power
He shook his head, slowly. They were moving along, but not running into the night. After a moment, he spoke again.
“Part of me does wonder at why it was never mentioned to me before. It’s... Well, not a good thing, but...”
Master Belford looked at the right-hand side of the hallway then. The gray stone was bland through the area they were walking through. Cool looking, and strong, instead of attractive.
“I think that Lyse was ashamed of the action. It’s common for a bastard to be ignored or not directly claimed as an heir, of course. Disowning you, claiming that you aren’t Lyse’s son at all, is insanely provocative. I think that he was attempting to press King Mathias into attacking, at the time. A situation which would have led only to the death of hundreds, without real resolution in the matter at all.”
Anders simply walked then, heading to the man’s door.
“Now, this shouldn’t take too long. We’ll clean everything and then make it black.”
The room was less than tidy. A thing that caused the master to frown, then look at Anders.
“Forgive the state here. In my grief...” It wasn’t much of an explanation.
Anders understood anyway. He saw to the clothing first, then, using magic, did the rest of the room. After all, the man was in pain. Anything he could do to relieve some of that was worthy of doing. They didn’t speak after that, other than some pleasantries. Anders’ room was only one door down, which meant that his lack of concern for the other man was less than impressive on his part.
Plus, even if it wasn’t a matter of common discussion, the fellow was his uncle. It was that, he had to think, that had caused the man to teach Anders anything much at all. His ways were harsh, or had been. Even in his pain and grief, the man had made certain to give him daily lessons, after Estella had been killed.
In his room one door down, sitting on his work table, was what he assumed was a very nice example of riveted mail. Next to it was a blue colored gambeson. The thick padded cloth armor was the thing he examined first. The stitching on it was carefully done and it had, when he counted, using magic for the task of examination, thirty layers of strong linen. There was a quilted quality to it, which took him a while to understand fully.
Once he did, after several hours of simply focusing, holding and learning what the armor was like, he settled into his bed, ready for sleep. He didn’t do that, of course. Instead he created a new word for cloth armor. That meant linking the concept of what he wanted into a single phrase. It was only part of the needed spell, but it was a good enough start to the whole thing.
He’d need to get some real linen, of course, to start with. At least some kind of thick cloth that would be as strong. As far as he knew, it was impossible to make something from nothing. Even in the old texts that he had memorized that was never mentioned as being something that could be done.
Thinking about that, he drifted off to sleep.
Even if dreams of people rejecting him kept trying to intrude on his otherwise peaceful slumber.
Chapter two
Anders got up as the sun first made the sky lighten. That had become his habit, over the last months and would, he didn’t doubt, serve him well once he was on the road again. At least the last times he’d traveled, first light hadn’t meant the ability to see your hand in front of your face as much as the ability to tell which direction the sky was in.
So he rolled out of his lumpy, hay filled bed and stood up on the cold stone floor. He didn’t have a rug in his room, since it wasn’t the kind of thing that children were given. Plus, Anders had never considered the idea before. The stones were cool, but his feet were bare. That wouldn’t take place in the winter. He hadn't even bothered with a fire in the hearth of his room yet. Instead he simply washed quickly, making himself do a good job and emptied his chamber pot, since it had been used in the night.
After that, he combed his hair, which was down to his shoulders in the back, and realized that he needed to cut that, before riding off to the front. Lonely soldiers might get confused, if he looked too girly. It was a thing that neither portion of him knew of first hand, but that Farad had read about in certain texts. Most from long ago. It had been hinted at, the last time he’d ridden out, so was apparently still a thing to be wary of.
There was no real need to hurry, in particular, since he was awake in good time to make his morning rounds. There was no clock in his room, not even an hourglass, but waiting until true daylight was the custom he’d established with Depak Sona and the Modroc ambassadorial staff. It was hardly needed for him to go and visit with all of them any longer, he knew.
That was a good thing. It was still his habit to check on the situation each day though and until that very day, he hadn’t had much free time at any other point to see to the duty.
Having an extra few moments, he settled at his table, his one hard chair not making any noise as he did it, thinking of what he planned to do that day. The first thing, after seeing to his morning visitation and chamber pot emptying duties, would be finding cloth to make armor out of. Then, if he could manage that at all, he needed to work out how to alter and possibly even make ring mail.
He owned some, but he truly didn't know if it was the good kind of not. Taking a moment, he started to examine the gambeson again, going over the new word and sigil for that in his mind, walking the hallways of memory, to make certain the new idea was truly driven home. He was deep enough into that thought that the gentle knocking on his door went almost unnoticed.
Shaking his head, gently, he tried to come out of the trance he’d been working in as he stumbled over to the door. A second knock came just as he opened the thing. Half of him, as odd as the idea seemed, expected to find the Queen on the other side. That had, after all, happened before. This time, the face on the other side was a different one than he would have expected at all.
Really, while he vaguely recognized the woman, he’d never spoken to her before in his life.
“Princess Peri?” He bowed, using first courtly, making certain to do it correctly, since the visit was probably official. Looking concerned, the woman gave him a hurried curtsey.
“Master Brolly... I... Mathia has taken ill. The red fever. Master Franken aided you, but no one knows how. That or they refuse to speak about it. Will you aid me? Can you at all? You were with fever at the time, so I understand that you may not know what was done.”
He blinked, nearly shaking his head. He knew how that had happened, but placing the crystal of memory that contained Farad Ibn Istel against her head would be a far from good thing to do to a young lady. It was bad enough for poor Anders and they were both men.
Still, he had saved Anders. Mainly by entering a trance state, and then reducing the swelling in the boy’s head. He didn’t know if he could do the same thing, from a distance, but he’d learned some magic since then. Really, he was going to need some new words, in order to act on the young lady, but he nodded.
“I can help, I think. I’ll need some hours to prepare myself and to consult with Depak Sona, to make certain I’m not being foolish in my thoughts. How bad is she doing?” People didn’t die of the red fever in hours. It generally took a week or more, after the first symptoms displayed themselves.
“You can help? You will? Thank you! I wasn’t certain, after my husband worked to send you away as he did, not just a day ago.” Her face went tight then, as if she thought of the journey to come as a great wrong against him.
Anders smiled at her, if only a little.
“That’s simply a visit. Unless I get stuck there due to the weather. Then I’ll be annoyed, but Prince Robarts was merely backing me in what I requested, to see to some minor work I have, so I don’t think I need to blame him for that... I’ll try to be ready inside two hours. It might take longer than that. I’m going to need a new spell.” Really, that wouldn’t be too complex. He just needed some new names for things.
Bowing again, he waited. Half of him wanted to run, but even Depak S
ona would just be getting out of his bed then.
“I’ll be in with Ambassador Depak. That or sitting in front of his door in the ambassador’s hallway. We don’t have much time to lose. Can you find me there?” After all, he didn’t have a single clue where someone like Princess Mathia would be housed in the normal course of things. Nor should he.
There was another, rather hurried bending of the knees under her pink dress. That was of some form of fine material that shone a bit, but which wasn’t silk. It was heavier than that. Refined, of course, regardless of what it was. The woman was pretty enough that he moved to the doorway, almost instantly. After all, a closed door might be either a sign of plotting, or of him doing something improper, or at least attempting too, with the lady. Given that she’d come to him, that might even be taken as the other way around.
Moving into the hallway worked to have her follow him, so he reached back, around her and closed the door. That move got him hugged. Thankfully, no one was there to see it. He didn’t do it back, though he nodded.
“I must hurry. Two hours.” He just had to make things work in that time frame. Somehow. He tried to work while walking, not speaking to the woman again. He didn't run, really. There was a bit more haste to his step than was normal. Enough that the guard on the ambassador’s hall waved at him.
“Emergency?”
He started to shake his head, then nodded.
“Princess Mathia has fallen ill. I need to consult with Depak Sona about magical matters.”
The man went wide eyed, then nodded.
“Understood. Go!”
He ran then, though not far. It was tempting to pound on the magician’s door, but that would wake the whole hallway. Instead he tapped, wondering if the fellow would even be awake yet. To his surprise, he opened the door almost instantly. Inside the room there were other people, which nearly got him to pull back. He tightened his lips, though.
“Forgive the intrusion. Princess Mathia has fallen to the red fever. I think I can aid her, but I want to make certain I’m not overreaching magically.” He bowed then, since that was needed with the other man. Not for him, but for those watching.
Princess Aisla moved forward, her eyes nearly as wide as the hall guard’s had gone.
“Anders? What do you have in mind for her?”
He nearly didn’t say, but then nodded a bit, since the truth was that she was trained in magic as well. The same type he was learning.
“The danger of the red fever is in the swelling of the part of the brain near the skull. I can reduce this in myself, already, so understand what is needed, but I need to place that onto her. It should be safe enough, since doing too much of it can’t happen. It won’t be harmful. Or am I missing something?” He glanced at the woman, not seeing who was behind her at all.
Depak looked at him then, slowly, nodded.
“That could work. You’ll need to reduce her fever as well, at the same time. Without making her too cool. Do you have the needed phrasings for this?”
He didn’t, of course. Really, he needed to work up two new words for that. One for swelling being reduced and one for fever, in the same way.
“No. On the good side, I know both of the things I’ll need, rather well. Three things, since the lungs need to be freed as well. The swelling of the brain and fever first. She’ll live with raspy lungs for a few hours, while I learn that as well. May I work here? Princess Peri is to meet me here in two hours.”
Depak pulled him into the space, a thing done with no courtesy at all. Inside the room, he was distracted for a moment, since Prince Alpert and his own mother were there. Visiting, very early in the day.
That was a bit odd. Though it could be a matter to do with the message that Depak had gotten from the Sula. Darian.
The Prince was sitting at the table, and stood.
“Poor Mathia. You think you can help her? When you laid dying no one could do much other than give you water and place a cool cloth on your brow. I went to my knees to beg Master Franken to do what he could, whatever it took, to save you.”
Anders looked at the room and realized that only Aisla might not know the whole of the story. That wasn’t likely, either, but he nodded in her direction and spoke openly.
“Which worked, since the crystal held the mind, a copy, of Farad Ibn Istel. Who is bound with me now, inside. On the good side, he recalls what almost dying of the red fever felt like and what to do about it. I need to trap that into a word for a magical spell. One for fever as well...” He shook his head. “I need to hurry. I can do this, inside two hours. I have before.”
Depak Sona led him to the other room, where the bed was, and gestured for him to sit. Anders dropped to the ground, cross legged.
From the doorway, Princess Aisla spoke.
“Two new magical elements in an hour for each? That isn’t possible. That could take months.”
Anders closed his eyes, dropping into his learning trance again. The mind was more than capable of learning far faster than most allowed for. It simply took having the right skills and understanding of how such things worked. Things that he’d spent a whole lifetime working with.
The outer world vanished then, as he recalled the feeling he needed. Then he paired it with a glowing golden sigil in his mind and a feeling. One of swelling reducing, leaving whatever had been affected in its original state.
As soon as he had it well enough, he moved to the new word for fever. The same work had to be done, but he took care to leave the ending portion of the idea just a bit warmer than was normal. That way he shouldn’t freeze anyone by mistake.
After that, he drilled with both words, over and again, until a hand shook his right shoulder. Opening his eyes, he noticed that it was his mother. She looked slightly concerned, for some reason. Probably over Princess Mathia, rather than her boy suddenly acting as if he might be able to heal illness. That wasn’t the case. He was merely treating parts of it. They could come back, and would need to be taken care of a second, or third time, in that case. This would just leave the girl feeling more comfortable and prevent death from finding her for those reasons.
He smiled and stood up. He could hear Princes Peri in the other room.
“Anders... Is this safe? You might be harmed, doing this...”
This time he got to shake his head, and didn’t even have to lie to her, in order to pretend that what he was doing wasn’t dangerous at all. It simply wasn’t, this time.
“I can’t even catch the red fever again, having recovered from it myself once. This should be safe. The worst that happens is little to nothing. I don’t think even that will be the case. I should go. You can fill me in on why everyone was meeting here this early?” He nearly added an or not to it, since the woman clearly didn’t seem to think he needed to know all that much about the world around him. That or she really wanted him to figure it out for himself.
She patted his shoulder, moving out of the way.
“That can wait, for later. You should go now and see to Princess Mathia. I know a mother’s worry for her child.”
That was a real enough thing, given that Princess Peri grabbed him again, this time in front of everyone else. No one so much as batted an eyelash over the move.
“Can you be of aid? I know that you said that, but...”
At that, half the people there looked away. Depak Sona did, seeming to think that his room servant was being maligned. His lips actually went hard over it. Princess Aisla shrugged, her blue and green gown moving, her sturdy frame making a powerful impression.
“We’ll have to see. The plan itself is sound enough. I just can’t credit the idea of anyone learning new magics that quickly. The worst that comes of this is nothing, so we should be off to see to it.”
Anders snorted then, though he smiled as he did it, trying not to make the woman upset with him. She was a Princess, after all.
“I have this. Only people immune to the red fever should be with Princess Mathia right now. Do you clear that way,
Princess Aisla?” He honestly didn’t know if she would or not. When he looked around, different people were doing varied things. Most of them shaking their heads, indicating that they, at least weren’t covered that way.
Oddly, the Barquea born woman nodded.
“I contracted it when I first arrived here, some years ago. I shouldn’t risk it now though, with a baby on the way.” She didn’t grab at her middle, but everyone else in the room, other than Prince Alpert, seemed shocked by the news.
Anders, led by the old historian inside of himself, merely bowed. Using first courtly.
“That’s wonderful news! I agree, however. Whoever is watching her can stand guard?” They needed a woman to be there, to make certain he didn't abuse the Princess, after all. Not that he was planning that kind of thing. It was still a matter that had to be seen to.
Princess Peri nodded, waving at the door. The move was hurried and seemed demanding, though she didn’t yell for him to hurry. He did anyway. They were the only two heading out, it seemed. The rest understanding that waiting there would, no doubt, be a better plan than in the hallway outside where the work was being done that day.
As they moved, scurrying in a rather rushed fashion, Peri spoke. She was only lightly out of breath due to the exertion.
“Mistress Colm is in with her. The new herb woman of the castle. She’s as close as we have to a real healer here, since Master Franken... The monster.” Her face tightened at the mention of the name. Then, so did Anders.
He nodded, following the woman with him, not knowing where they were going. It was to a strange hallway, well outside of any space he’d ever been allowed into before. The royal one, no doubt. They might have more than one, even. The castle was a grand thing, if the works inside his mind were correct on the idea. Back in Farad’s day, such things had been much smaller. At least that was what was referenced in the ancient texts.
