by R. K. Thorne
Menaha nodded, but Miara knew the older woman was not so sure. Menaha was just being realistic. In that environment, especially if it worsened, escape would be hard.
Good luck, she told Kae. They would need all they could get.
Miara snapped back to reality. Aven caught her eyes with just the corners of his mouth curving in a smile. His skin was even paler now, and his head rested against the back of the bench heavily. Wunik looked like he would tip over if he got up.
“Well, two in one night,” he said softly.
“That’s double, and all we are going to find anyway, I think.” Wunik was scouring the area around Mage Hall, but only guards were coming into view. “Quite an improvement, eh?”
“Yes.”
Wunik glanced at Aven, seeming to remember him. “Oh! You made it through awake. Good job to both of you.” Derk had a you-better-say-that expression on his face, but he did smile. Maybe he just didn’t receive quite enough recognition from his teacher, hence that huge chip on his shoulder. “Aven, should we wrap up? I think we’ve done a great deal tonight.”
Aven looked like he wanted to nod but was too tired to do so. Want me to get their attention for you? she whispered to him.
That’d be a help. I’m not sure I can move my arms. Fortunately, he seemed more amused by this than alarmed.
Miara stood and strode back to the door where the nearest brazier would easily light her for all to see. “Everyone? Aven would like to say something before we retire for the evening.”
Slowly, the other groups of mages rose and gathered around the air mages. Wunik continued to scour Mage Hall, but no one came into sight.
“Is that—where they kept you?” Thel pointed at the window of light.
“Yes. And a whole lot of others too,” Aven replied. “How did things go, everyone?”
“Teron and I are planning to scour the libraries tomorrow, since I hear that worked out well once before,” Thel reported.
“And I’ll be meeting tomorrow with our newest creature mage to give him a few pointers. Since I have nothing else to do.” Siliana shot Wunik an annoyed look, before beaming a smile at Dom. Oh, that annoyance was a cover, wasn’t it.
“Great. We freed two more warrior mages. We’ll meet here again tomorrow night to try again, if any of you care to join. The more we can figure out before we head to Panar, the better. Feel free to keep working, but I am retiring for the night.”
Nods all around. Miara realized too late she had ended up rather far from Aven, and that perhaps this would be the appropriate time to simply head back to her room alone. If there was nothing between them, then that’s what she would do.
She couldn’t bring herself to do it, though. She drifted back toward him, feigning interest in fresh sights of Mage Hall even though seeing it only gave her pangs of nausea and dinged her hope.
“See anything?” Miara said. She knelt next to the water bowl, in front of Aven’s feet and to Wunik’s right.
“No,” Wunik replied. “We may quickly be unable to make an impact if they keep this up. Let’s hope this is only a temporary measure.”
I want to help you back to your room, she said to Aven without looking at him. Or make sure you make it there safe. I didn’t like letting Fayton handle it last night.
She caught his smile out of the corner of her eye. You have a talent for good excuses, my love. You know Fayton is perfectly trustworthy. Interesting how talking this way makes… ulterior motives more obvious.
She snickered to herself, then hoped no one noticed. I miss sleeping beside you too, of course.
I do too. If we could think up a reason…
That buoyed her hope, and she strained to think of something while Wunik scanned the same area of Mage Hall again. They saw no mages, and she thought of nothing plausible. Short of him suffering from some kind of fever or illness, she had no special skills that would require her to attend him in a non-romantic manner. And there were other healers, like his own mother and doubtless non-magical royal healers, who could also do the job and were already married or men. Although, come to think of it, she wasn’t sure if that mattered.
Damn. I can’t think of anything legitimate.
It’s all right. Maybe something will come up.
“All right. Enough.” Wunik let the window of light fade. “Who’s helping Aven back to his room? Looks like he needs it.”
“I will!” she and Derk said simultaneously. Then they looked at each other in surprise, Derk’s eyebrow raised, Miara frowning. What was he up to? She couldn’t let him go off with Aven alone, that was for sure.
“Hey, wait. I have some questions for my brother before he sleeps,” Dom called out. Siliana had been in mid-sentence, and he whispered an apology. Miara had to remind herself not to stare at Siliana’s mooning eyes. They exchanged a few more words, and Dom joined them. “Tired, Aven?”
Aven started to lean forward and did indeed lurch to the side—unfortunately into Derk, who caught him.
“C’mon, let’s help him back,” Derk said pointedly to Dom, giving Miara a suspicious glance. Oh, as if she was the suspicious one. She couldn’t completely trust either of them.
“I can help too,” she managed weakly, knowing she had already lost.
Derk didn’t even acknowledge her statement, just kept on pulling Aven to his feet.
Damn it, I wanted to come with you at least.
It’s okay. Dom joined Derk in lifting one arm of Aven’s over his shoulder, and Aven finally stood.
Try to keep a little bit more energy next time. Just a little, if you can.
I’ll try—it’s like a whirlpool. Hard to resist.
Can you trust Dom? Are you sure? The three men eased past her and toward the door.
Oh—yes. Don’t worry.
And Derk?
It’s fine. Sorry we couldn’t, I don’t know… His thoughts trailed off into images and swirls of thought, but she didn’t pull back right away. For once, she let their minds mingle. Sorry we couldn’t think of an excuse, he’d been intending to say. She let her borders drop further. He also felt sorry they couldn’t sleep side by side. Sorry we haven’t told everyone. Sorry I listened to my father instead of telling him to go to hell. Sorry we can’t… And if she’d held doubts about his attraction to her versus his new suitor, those concerns evaporated as she watched the images circle and flash by—memories of his lips brushing her neck, his hands stroking her palm, her shoulders, her… The images shifted to moments that were not memories but sounded even more delicious. Sorry we have to wait. Sorry we aren’t already married.
Oh, that’s all right, there’s time, just rest, she thought as she pulled away. Besides, if that were true, she would be close to being queen. And she was not sure she was ready to be. Or would ever be. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for all this. Would she even be happy as a queen, with so many eyes on her all the time? And yet, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere but by his side for the rest of her days.
As the men neared the door, Aven’s head lifted with a strange, abrupt jerk. He glanced over his shoulder at her, frowning in puzzlement. A thrill of fear ran through her. He’d heard that, hadn’t he. She’d let the veil drop farther than normal, and it had taken longer to pull away than she’d thought. He frowned as if unsure he’d truly heard her thoughts, but she knew he had. He just didn’t want to believe them.
What kind of fool was she? A kind, intelligent man wants to give me more power than nearly anyone in the land, and I’m not sure I want it.
They lurched awkwardly through the door and around the bend, Aven’s eyes trailing her till the last.
Of course, she was thinking about what he would have wanted her to think about, she reminded herself. The good of his kingdom—was she really the type of queen they’d need in the future? Would they ever accept her? Would she be able to do the job? If she believed she was entirely unfit, Aven would want to know that. Wouldn’t he?
It was too late to ask him now. Miara rose to help Wun
ik put away his tools. Then, with a pat on the old elder’s shoulder and an assurance that he needed no more help, she headed back to her rooms.
Alone.
Yet another laborious dinner. Daes yawned widely, not caring which courtier or hanger-on might notice. He’d maneuvered for years to be outside their reach, and he would enjoy the benefits of that effort now. No matter how many of the king’s feasts he attended, he had yet to find a way to entertain himself. His presence was of course required periodically to maintain his powerful station and the king’s favor. Too many absences would draw unneeded and useless attention.
As a younger man, before he’d been a Master, these events had been far more useful. But now they were more maintenance than anything else.
He surveyed the court. No one was worth talking to. What a tedious waste of time.
He rose and headed toward the promenade. A wide balcony stretched beyond the hall, built of cream and pink marble. He strolled along, gazing up at the setting sun, thoughts clear. The stars were just coming out. They brought to mind the prince and his growing ability to bring everything Daes had worked so hard for crashing down.
He had better hear back from his mages soon, or he was sending a dozen more.
Elegant staircases zigzagged down two stories to the manicured gardens, where hedges were sculpted into fanciful creations, real and imagined. The sound of water burbling graced the air as fountains stretched out into the gardens. He headed down the stairs. On this promenade so close to the hall, someone annoying was liable to see him and corner him with some inane conversation—or worse, a ridiculous request. He shouldn’t be away too long, but enjoying the gardens was a perfectly acceptable feast activity. He must remember to compliment the king on them later, in case the fool noticed his absence.
Daes forgot about this plan, however, when he turned a corner of the hedgerow and saw the queen. She sat on a marble bench, face turned into the corner of the surrounding hedges and hidden by her hands. Her shoulders shook, and although she was silent, it was obvious to him that she wept.
Queen Marielle. He remembered her first days at court, around the same time he had begun his upward climb. Unlike Seulka, she was a clever and pragmatic type. Daes had to confess he’d felt a touch of jealousy at the old king at finding someone so… reasonable. Most women of her type were beyond annoying, whether because they had never really had a problem in their lives, or because of how insanely driven they were by their machinations. She was not typical, and he’d had more than one rewarding conversation in those early days. Of late, she often sat sullenly at the king’s side or didn’t attend the feasts at all. How many years ago had she come from Reilin, on the southwestern continent, to marry the king? He had no idea. She had borne no heir, and it had been long enough. It should have happened. Was this why she wept? Or perhaps something else was afoot.
He came closer, his boots crunching on the gravel. Her head hung low for a moment, indicating she heard his approach, but she did not turn or straighten. That bad, was it? He stopped just before her, now close enough to hear the faint sound of her weeping.
He took a calculated risk. He reached out and gently placed his hand on her shoulder, his thumb resting ever so softly on the back of her neck. He patted gently, then moved his thumb so softly, it only grazed the soft delicate hairs at her nape. Treason, perhaps. Or a way to win a powerful ally.
She turned, shocked, but did not jerk fully away from his touch.
“Daes—”
“Your Majesty, are you all right?” he said, filling his voice with as much concern as he could muster. He withdrew his touch, bent down to one knee, and drew a handkerchief from an inner pocket of his red dress gambeson. While some wore finer clothing to affairs like these, he would have preferred full armor, as much as he trusted any of them. But the thick cloth protection of the gambeson was the closest he could get away with.
She received the handkerchief gratefully, straightening. “Forgive me, Lord Daes—”
“I see not what you have to forgive.”
She gave him a small smile for his chivalry. “A queen must always be poised,” she said. She quoted someone who’d often chastised her thusly, he suspected.
“No one is always poised,” he replied.
“Says the man who is always the picture of composure.” Huh. Interesting that she had such thoughts about him, or any thoughts at all.
“We are not always what we seem on the surface,” he said. “Are we?” Her smile faded into a relaxed nod. If she ever saw him wake up from his dreams in a rage, she might think differently. She seemed to remember her troubles but resist bursting into tears. Good. If he’d only calmed her, certainly she would still remember his kindness. It could come in handy later. But his gut told him there was more potential gratitude to be created here. “Who has wronged you?” he said softly. “Are you all right?”
“I am much better now, thanks to you,” she said, dabbing an eye and looking at him with sincere gratitude, but dodging his question. He let the silence linger for a moment, giving her space to fill it. She fidgeted.
“Is there some way I can help you, my lady?” he nudged again.
“Oh, you needn’t worry about my foolish woes.” She waved him off. “You have a war to plan, don’t you? I have heard of your many great plans for this kingdom.” She had?
The gravel was beginning to dig into his knee. “May I join you on this seat, my lady?”
“Oh, of course,” she said quickly, scooting over a few inches as if to make room for him, although this put her nearly in the hedgerow. Indeed, a queen should not be so willing to give up her space and power so easily. But many a queen was more battered than powerful. If such had been Marielle’s fate, it was no surprise she would readily make room for a friendly face. He sat much farther over, leaving her ample room, and then took her hand and pulled her toward him.
“No need for hedges in your back, there’s quite enough room.”
She smiled, looking down at her lap and not meeting his eyes.
He should let go of her hand. He didn’t. She didn’t either.
“My mage armies are preparing for war, indeed. But I am taken away from such measures by this… delightful feast.” She snorted a bit of laughter at his clear lack of enthusiasm. “But may I remind you, my queen, that my mages are forever at your disposal.”
She looked up and met his eyes in earnest surprise. Was she shocked that he offered his power to her, or that he recognized her power as queen? Or was it something else? His hand clasping hers should have been much more surprising than a reminder of power she did in fact wield, should she choose to use it.
“Have your mages ever… No. Forget I said anything.”
“What is it?” He squeezed her hand. “I am happy to educate you on my forces’ capabilities. In a general manner, of course.”
She straightened again, regaining her power by the moment, as if his hand’s touch strengthened her. “Of course, of course. Are your mages equipped for smaller activities than wars? Such as… perhaps… assassination?”
Oh, ho ho. What have we here? Calculated risk, indeed! What gold mine had he just discovered?
“As a matter of fact, yes. They are not very common, but I have several…” He refused to think about the escaped mage, or the creature mage, or that the Tall Master had misplaced the brand, of all things. He’d focus on none of that nonsense at this prime moment. “Several mages who are skilled spies, capable of various forms of information gathering and intelligence activities.” He smiled warmly. “Assassination among them, of course.”
She stared hard at him now as if weighing his whole worth. It was not wise to trust him. He was clearly manipulating her in a weak moment to gain her trust, and he’d made no effort to hide his fairly transparent ploy. Many would not notice, but just as many would be fully aware of his potentially self-serving motivations. She did not know his loyalties or really anything about him. Or so he suspected from her reactions. If she had made any effo
rt to keep tabs on him, to learn of his past or his present, it had been behind closed doors. But why should she? He tried to keep as low a profile as possible in terms of gossip, and aside from the war, there should not have been much worth knowing about him.
And yet, he was not being insincere. He did hope to comfort her. She was a beautiful, well-liked, and reasonable woman, thoroughly wasted on the king. Her ties to her homeland of Asraet—and their powerful navy—across the sea remained strong. Daes had kept his own tabs on her, and he’d heard reports of her addressing grievances of a minor noble here, a frustrated landholder there at least a dozen separate times. All were grievances the king had ignored. It was possible their agendas aligned.
“What about kidnapping… or perhaps, escape?”
“It might be best if you simply told me of your troubles, my lady.”
“The king’s mistress,” she blurted, shoulders slumping as a few more tears seeped out.
His eyes fell to his lap as he shook his head. Fool. The king was a fool, but dallying with a mistress while he had no heir? But perhaps he called Marielle barren, and it was not just a foolish dalliance. “I am sorry to hear that the king does not properly honor you, my lady.”
She straightened again and shook her head. “I no longer desire his affections,” she said, although the words came out stilted. So she had hoped to love him once? Idealistic for a royal. Or perhaps it was simply innuendo for his heir-producing activities. “And it is all well and good, as she has produced no heir either.” Her voice grew bitter as her hand clenched his tighter. “But she is insufferable. Constantly flouting her place in his bed in the court, with the servants. She thinks it’s a matter of time before she conceives.”
“You disagree,” he offered.
“I have done my duties as queen. And she has done hers for nigh on two years. It has been long enough. If only he would find another mistress, it would at least buy me some peace. But I fear he loves her.” She stared off into the distance as if hoping to see the answers to her problems.