The Coin of Kenvard

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The Coin of Kenvard Page 4

by Joseph R. Lallo


  “I am helping,” Myn replied.

  “Hep! Hep!” Leo crowed.

  “I wouldn’t have expected having a child around would help Myn pick up the language, but then, the two are siblings, in a way,” Deacon said.

  “Hep!”

  Leo slapped his silver spoon into the bowl of oats. A healthy dollop of the stuff splattered Deacon, Myranda, and Leo, much to the child’s delight.

  “Queen Myranda, if you like, I could feed the boy,” remarked Sadie, a young servant girl who, to her credit, was more concerned about being permitted to do her job than having to do it under the watchful gaze of a dragon.

  Myranda swirled her fingers and flexed her mind, drawing the oats from her outfit and flicking them toward Myn. Deacon did the same for himself and Leo.

  “Sadie, I have a full slate of tasks today, and this is the one I’ve been looking forward to. Thank you very much but I will manage.”

  Deacon dislodged a few flecks of oats from his crown, which he had donned moments after awaking.

  “As a matter of fact,” she added, “if you would please give us some privacy for a moment? There are family matters to discuss.”

  “As you wish, Queen.”

  The servants excused themselves. Deacon conjured a swirl of light to dance before Leo’s eyes, which served as enough of a distraction for Myranda to sneak a spoonful of oats into his mouth.

  “Deacon, how is your hand?”

  “It is always better in the mornings. I likely could have forgone the crown, but I thought it best to keep my mind clear for the tour of the library and vault today.” He glanced at the sun. “We should start preparing before much longer. I wouldn’t want to delay Caya’s departure.”

  “I worry that it is worse than you’ve said.”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you, Myranda. You know that.”

  “But you haven’t always been forthcoming.”

  “I suppose not.” Deacon attempted to maneuver a spoon into Leo’s mouth. The boy proved a match for his dexterity.

  “It’s already clear that the affliction is growing more difficult to control. My worry is that it might be spreading. You said you needed the crown to be clearheaded. Is the affliction affecting your mind?”

  He sighed. “I am not certain. It is true that I’ve struggled with clarity more recently than I ever have before, but there is no reason to assume that it is a result of the same ailment. It could be as simple as fatigue from having to maintain constant focus to keep my hand stable. It isn’t without its benefit. I haven’t felt my mystic endurance improve like this since I was first learning magic.”

  “Regardless of whether it is fatigue or the affliction, it is only going to get worse.”

  Leo dipped his pudgy hands into the bowl and flicked a helping directly at Deacon’s face. The oats stopped before they could touch him, halted by a hasty spell. They plopped back into the bowl.

  “Let us be honest, between Leo and our subjects, we aren’t likely to be overcoming our fatigue anytime soon.”

  “I can only split my attentions so much, Myranda. The cure to the affliction can wait, so it shall.”

  “But if you were cured, your mind would be sharper, you would be better rested. You would be better able to perform your other tasks.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t be certain I will be able to cure it. I am no white mage, and there aren’t any such mages outside of Entwell who are more skilled than you or I.”

  Myranda took his hand. “Then I think you know what you need to do.”

  Deacon looked her in the eye, for the moment genuinely uncertain of her meaning. “I don’t understand… You don’t mean that I should return to Entwell.”

  “I mean precisely that.”

  “Absolutely not!” he objected. “I am needed here.”

  “That you are needed here is precisely why you need to do this.”

  “Kenvard has a long way to go before we can afford to rest. We never know when another D’Karon seed will be found. And Leo needs his father.”

  “I’m not suggesting you go back never to return. I am suggesting you go home long enough to find a cure.”

  “I have their teachings. That is enough.”

  “A fresh perspective from a clever mind is worth years of studying texts, and you know it.”

  He shut his eyes tightly. “I can only go when the falls have relented, and I won’t be able to return for months, when the falls relent again. You are asking me to leave at a fragile time in Leo’s life and a crucial time in the life of a kingdom. And most importantly, they would not have me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I repeatedly violated their ways both before I left and with the very means I used to leave.”

  “It has been years, and you have saved the world from peril time and time again. They will welcome you with open arms.”

  “I cannot…” he snapped, fist wrapped tight. Deacon took a moment to compose himself, fingers pressed to his temple and pain in his expression. He took a breath. When he spoke again, it was with steadiness and logic.

  “Myranda, I understand your concern, and I admit that a trip to Entwell, even if it takes me a year to return, might well be the fastest route to a cure. But let us look at this dispassionately. Either I am so thoroughly in the clutches of this affliction that I am impaired, or I am not. If I am not, there is no urgency in seeking its cure. If I am, it would be unwise for me to seek it in Entwell. The cave is treacherous. Even knowing there is no beast, and even knowing that I must contend with the flood, it is not a simple journey. My magic would be severely curtailed within the cave, and it is a maze. Unlike you, I’ve never passed through it. I was born in Entwell, and I transported myself instantaneously from within.”

  “I’ve thought of that. You need a guide.”

  “Myranda, you can’t.”

  “That much I won’t argue with. It will be trying to handle things without you. We certainly can’t afford to send both the king and queen away for months.”

  “Who else is there? Lain is dead. Myn is surely too large to navigate the cave the same way she entered it.”

  “By my count that leaves just one person.”

  Deacon searched his memory. “Who else… No… Surely not him.”

  “He knows the way. And Caya was boasting about having recently caught him again.”

  Once again, Deacon was silent. His expression was troubled, but Myranda knew the look in his eyes. If nothing else, Deacon was willing to embrace wisdom when it presented itself. Myranda took up the spoon and managed to feed Leo a few more helpings.

  “You truly believe this is necessary.”

  “Deacon, your body and spirit are at war with one another. You’ve subjected yourself to things no mortal has ever faced. The effects have lingered, and they are only going to get worse. I love you. I don’t want to lose my husband, I don’t want the kingdom to lose its king, and I don’t want Leo to lose his father. You owe it to yourself, and all of us, to get help.”

  He nodded slowly. “For you, and for Leo, I will.”

  Myranda stood and threw her arms around him. “I knew you would come to your senses.”

  A bird fluttered down to peck at a fleck of oats that had failed to find its way onto an expensive bit of royal wardrobe. Like most of the residents of the capital, the birds seemed to have come to the conclusion that Myn wasn’t a concern.

  “Bud!” Leo observed, pointing a messy finger.

  “Sparrow,” Deacon specified, always quick to seize an opportunity to educate.

  “Parrow.”

  “That’s good, now what is Myn?” Deacon pointed to the dragon. “What sort of creature is she?”

  “Duck.”

  “No, no. Leo, Myn is not a duck.”

  Myn pivoted her head to face Deacon. “Quack,” she stated.

  Myranda stifled laughter.

  “Duck!” Leo asserted, v
indicated.

  “You really aren’t helping, Myn,” Deacon said in defeat.

  “Come,” the queen said. “Leo’s had all he’s going to eat. We’ve got to have a word with Caya. Considering how much trouble he gave her, it may be difficult to persuade her to part with your would-be guide.”

  #

  The tour of the library and vault wouldn’t be happening for a few hours, but preparations for travel had already begun. Royalty traveled with a considerable entourage. Organizing them for a journey even within a city or the neighboring areas took time. Dividing the various tasks among the assorted servants and guards was a task in and of itself. Myranda and Deacon were thus able to steal a moment to pull Caya aside to the private room off the great hall again. Myranda hadn’t wasted words, jumping directly to the issue at hand.

  “Desmeres? You want to talk to Desmeres?” Caya said, barely able to hush her mischievous glee.

  “Specifically, we need to borrow him for a few months,” Myranda said.

  “A few months? I know you have a history with him, and not a very pleasant one. If you were anyone else, I’d guess some sort of torture was in store for him.”

  “Nothing of the sort. We need him to help guide us to something that can help Deacon.”

  “And it will take months? With your resources I wouldn’t imagine it would take more than a few weeks to get anywhere in this world.”

  “We are hoping he can take Deacon to Entwell.”

  “Mmm. Homesick, eh?”

  “That isn’t the specific malady we are hoping to treat, but it is among them,” Deacon said.

  “I see. I won’t pry, but I should be frank with you. He’s given us a terrible runaround. The list of crimes he has committed are deceiving in their severity.” She counted off on her fingers. “We shall discount his betrayal of our beloved Chosen. Heinous though it was, it must be set aside in an official sense because he was serving the Alliance Army at the time. But he has stolen priceless weapons from my very own honor guard not once, not twice, but six times that we know of. He has assaulted members of the Elite. He has defied orders. He holds the distinction of being the very first person to illegally cross the redrawn border between Vulcrest and Ulvard. His least official and most severe of crimes, from my personal point of view, was making a fool of my soldiers on countless occasions. If he were any other man, he would be rotting in a dungeon or dangling from the gallows.”

  “I’m pleased to learn you’ve been merciful,” Deacon said.

  “I am quite merciful, but in his case it was almost entirely self-interest. You spoke on his behalf after the incident with his hand, and that helped, but he’s wiped that goodwill away. The fact is, I keep him around because he still does good work on weapons, though somewhat more laboriously these days. Genera does a reasonable job of keeping him in line, most of the time. And there is the fact that he is technically my father-in-law.”

  “Technically?” Deacon said.

  “He wasn’t formally introduced to his son until adulthood. Fatherhood is most certainly technical at best,” Caya said. “Now, this is a royal family matter. If you dig deeply enough into Vulcrest’s history I’m quite certain you could find precedent of justified execution of in-laws. I choose to forgo such filthy matters.” She lowered her voice. “Unless he particularly vexes me again.”

  Outside, the sound of preparations was dying down.

  “We’ll be needed soon, so I suppose we’d best hammer out the details. First, the warnings. He doesn’t strike me as reformed so much as run-down. I don’t imagine he will be trustworthy.”

  “That much we’ve come to expect from him. Scrupulously honest and completely undeserving of trust,” Myranda said.

  “I would suggest it would be difficult to keep him in line, but if there is anyone in the world I trust to manage it, it is one of you two.” She mused for a moment. “I suppose there is no reason not to loan him out. Provided you return him when you are through with him, of course.”

  “It will be no less than three months. We can’t be certain how long it will be, but we hope not more than a year,” Myranda said.

  “Tolerable. And having him out of our hair should give my honor guard the opportunity to guard me instead of him.” She held out her hand. “You have a deal.”

  Myranda shook it. “You are doing us a greater service than you know.”

  “How soon do you need him?” she asked.

  “It can wait until the present tasks have been settled,” Deacon said.

  Myranda looked to him. “I would much prefer it happen sooner than later.”

  “I’ll be more specific,” Caya said. “You can travel a good deal more swiftly than I can. Will you need him before I return home?”

  “Certainly not,” Deacon said.

  “Ideally yes,” Myranda said at the same time.

  Caya smirked. “While we are awaiting a consensus on the issue, I’ll just have my scribe write up a writ of transfer.” She clapped them on the backs. “Now let us get this tour started. I cannot wait to see what a library that was designed by Deacon and Myranda Celeste looks like.”

  #

  The first stop on their journey didn’t require much travel at all. The representatives from Ulvard, Vulcrest, and Tressor wove their way through the recently rebuilt halls of Kenvard Palace until they reached a formidable door with a pair of guards standing at attention. Though the wall was tall and the ceiling vaulted, the door itself was scarcely taller than Deacon himself as he stood before it.

  “This is the first of three vaults we have created for housing things of great danger or great value. Our security precautions are many. The door is nearly a yard thick. Iron-wood plank, studded and clad with additional iron. It is braced from the inside. The brace is moved into place utilizing a complex mechanism operated by a specially made crank with only three copies. Two locks…”

  As Deacon continued to list the security precautions, Caya tugged Myranda aside and whispered to her.

  “You have a dragon in the courtyard. Was this all necessary?” she said.

  “We are leaders,” Myranda said. “A defense isn’t a defense if only one person can use it. Ideally, you and the Ulvardians can utilize similar tactics to protect your own artifacts.”

  “Mmm,” Caya said. “Our artifacts are, at present, protected by Tus, and I suspect he would be rather upset if I suggested we were to replace him with a particularly fancy lock.”

  “A particularly fancy lock and a few magic words,” Myranda corrected.

  “… Incantations specific to each person who might require entry,” Deacon continued, his explanation having caught up with Myranda’s implication.

  As he had been describing the assorted means to keep the royal treasures safe, the guards had been disengaging them. Locks, cranks, and spells requiring the cooperation of at least three people finally rendered the door safe to open. Both men grasped the handle and hauled at it. Hinges groaned as the interior was revealed. Deacon held out his hand and summoned his crystal to his side. It cast light upon the assorted shelves within, loaded with chests and cases.

  “This vault has an outer and inner room. As do each of the others we have built. This outer room is protected only by the defenses I have described. Such precautions are more than sufficient to ensure the safety of our jewels and other historic artifacts. But the second door is far more mystically augmented. At present, only Myranda, myself, and the royal scribe have the proper spells to release its wards. These wards are extremely important. The items contained within are of a potent mystical nature and could be terribly dangerous in the wrong hands.”

  “You keep dangerous mystic artifacts in your home?” Queen Tanya said.

  “Are they D’Karon in nature?” King Terrance asked.

  “No. Our D’Karon artifacts are kept in a more remote vault, with identical safety precautions save the addition of Ether among those capable of opening the door. The walls have been
constructed and treated to ensure magic within remains within, and magic without remains without. Both are equally important in storing D’Karon creations. I shall detail the specific enchantments now, as the sooner you are made aware of proper storage and preparation, the sooner you will be able to store and care for D’Karon artifacts without our aid,” Deacon said.

  Queen Tanya tilted her head ever so slightly. “In a moment. Do you mean to say that you have weapons of incomparable mystic potency here within the palace? Weapons of your own creation?”

  “Ulvard is entirely without mystic weaponry. That you have a mystic arsenal kept secret from us…”

  “If I may. These are artifacts. With the exception of the Sword of the Chosen, none of them are explicitly weapons, and even in the case of the sword, that it is the shape of a weapon is incidental. Its importance is far more significant as a vessel and focus of power. But I certainly do not intend to keep this or anything else secret from my fellow royals. The full contents of the deep vault are as follows, in declining order of power. The Sword of the Chosen, a runic mirror of yet-to-be-determined provenance, seventeen highly refined focus gems…”

  “Yes, yes,” Terrance said. “A full record can be delivered at your leisure. The relevant point is Kenvard’s disproportionate mystic capabilities.”

  “A concern that can be best addressed, as with nearly all other concerns, with knowledge. If you are content to have the details of the vault provided to you at a later time, then I see no reason to delay our trip to our city’s library.”

  #

  The second stop on the hastily scheduled tour of Myranda and Deacon’s twin-pronged attack on the D’Karon legacy was the royal library. Like much of New Kenvard, it was reclaimed from the rubble of the ruined old city. As the other royals stepped from their carriages, Deacon took it upon himself to boast of their achievements.

  “After essential buildings were restored, this library was the first addition to the city to be constructed,” he proclaimed, spreading his arms before a building of gleaming, polished stone.

  “I remember this part of the city well,” Myranda said. “Before the Kenvard Massacre, this quarter of the city was devoted to the storage and distribution of weapons and armor for deployed troops. At the time, it was vital for our defense. The library represents a new and far more precious form of defense against the threat that the war has left behind.”

 

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