The Chronicles of Amberdrake

by Loren K. Jones

  “You can’t—” the leader began, but the captain cut him off.

  “You fools attacked Lord Drake and Lady Mellody! Orders from Mayor Stevert or no, they’d be well within their rights to have you executed on the spot.” The captain looked at the kneeling mayor. “And you as well.”

  Mardoe was backing away slowly, trying to remain inconspicuous, but Drake pointed him out. “Take him as well,” he ordered.

  “No, no, I didn’t do anything!” Mardoe said as he held out his hands.

  “You instigated this,” Mellody snapped. “Don’t even try to tell me that you weren’t the one who went to the mayor about being thrown out of our inn. You got the mayor to send these guardsmen to arrest us because your overweening pride couldn’t handle being dismissed from our service.”

  There was a flurry of shared glances as the city officials saw a way out of the trouble they were in. It took less than a breath before the mayor and all the councilors were shouting that Mardoe was behind the attack. The city guardsmen who had actually gone after Drake and Mellody were shouting even louder.

  Drake bellowed, “Be silent!” and the entire group lost their ability to speak. “Where is our sheriff?” he demanded and one of the city councilmen stepped forward. At Drake’s nod, he introduced himself.

  “Lord Drake, I am Lord Sheriff Dalkar Stevert.”

  Drake nodded, then demanded, “What is your relationship to the mayor?”

  “Chardis is a distant cousin on my father’s side.”

  Drake nodded, then pointed toward the guardsmen. “Are those your men?”

  “Yes, Lord Drake.”

  “Did you send them after us?”

  “Yes, Lord Drake.”

  “Why?”

  The sheriff bowed slightly before answering. “Innkeeper Mardoe came to the council claiming that a man and a woman were in his inn pretending to be Lord Drake and Lady Melody, and that they had assaulted him. I sent twenty men to the inn at Mayor Chardis’ insistence with orders to take the imposters into custody.”

  Mellody demanded, “Did it occur to you that we might be the real Mellody and Drake?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “No, Lady Mellody. We received no notice that you would be visiting.”

  Drake was staring at the sheriff as he stroked his chin in thought. “We did arrive unannounced,” he murmured to Mellody. “But I think Mardoe knew the truth when he went to the mayor. How about letting them get back to business with a warning and turn Mardoe over to the sheriff for punishment? He’s the one who instigated all of this trouble.”

  “As you wish, Drake,” she softly replied with a slight smile. Turning, she looked around and spoke in her normal tone. “Mayor Chardis, Sheriff Dalkar, you heard that. Take care of this mess you’ve made. Tomorrow we’ll be visiting your council to discuss the troubles we’re facing.”

  The mayor finally scrambled to his feet and bowed. “Yes, Lady Mellody, at once.” Turning to the sheriff he snapped, “Arrest Mardoe Gestan and lock him up.” The guardsmen already had Mardoe by the arms, so they just turned and dragged him away.

  Mellody asked, “Drake, did you have anything else to say to the mayor?” in a honey-sweet purr.

  Drake shook his head. “No, darling, not today.”

  Mellody nodded, then spoke to the mayor. “Lord Mayor Chardis, we’ll see you again tomorrow. Until then, assemble your account books so I can see how much I’ve—we’ve made in the past year.”

  The mayor and his councilors bowed as he replied, “As you command, Lady Mellody.”

  Chapter 22

  DRAKE HEADED BACK TO THE INN with Mellody by his side. They were twenty paces away when she asked, “Did you arrange that to punish Mardoe?”

  Drake chuckled. “No, he did it all by himself. Now that you mention it, though, it did work out just about right. Tomorrow we’ll suggest that Mardoe should spend a nice long time in prison.”

  “The rest of his life would suit me just fine.”

  Drake chuckled as he replied, “Yes, that would suit me as well.”

  The night passed quietly. It was well into the morning when they walked into the city hall. A young man met them as soon as they entered the building.

  “Lord Drake, Lady Mellody, this way, please,” he said as he repeatedly bowed. He led them to an elegantly appointed chamber where the mayor and his council were waiting. All of them stood as soon as the doors opened.

  Mayor Chardis stepped toward them and smiled. “Lord Drake, Lady Mellody, welcome.” Drake nodded minimally while Mellody ignored him completely.

  Not getting the response he was looking for, the mayor continued. “We have added chairs at the foot of the table for you to—”

  Drake interrupted by saying, “I will take the head of the table.”

  Mellody simply walked to the foot of the table and waited. When no one offered to help seat her, she swept the room with a contemptuous glare and moved the chair into place herself. Once seated, she continued to glare at the men around her.

  Drake took the mayor’s seat and looked around. The mayor and councilors took the hint and sorted themselves out. Once everyone was seated, he opened the discussion by saying, “Whatever plans and schemes you have in play end now.”

  The mayor looked startled for an instant before asking, “Lord Drake, what do you mean?”

  “He means,” Mellody growled from the other end of the table, “that the little power games you have been playing while I was tied up with the Bresardians will no longer be tolerated.”

  The mayor focused his attention on Mellody as he tried to make an excuse. “Lady Mellody, please, you don’t understand—”

  “We understand quite well,” Drake snapped. “Lord Gavan was too busy to check on you, so you took advantage of his distraction to build yourselves a nice little empire. Those guardsmen referred to Mardoe Gestan as a lord yesterday. They wouldn’t have done that unless someone higher up was letting Mardoe get away with impersonating a lord. That could only have been you, Mayor Chardis, and this council.”

  “L-Lord Drake, no, you see—” the mayor stammered, but he was once again cut off.

  “We see quite well,” Mellody snapped, once again drawing everyone’s attention. “We see commoners parading around, pretending to be lords. We see our profits, gold and silver that should have been delivered to Blue Ridge to be used to support our troops, being used for the personal aggrandizement of our servants.” She swept the council with a scathing glare. “That, noble birth or not, is all each of you is: our servant.”

  The mayor turned toward Drake in appeal, but Drake’s obvious anger made him just swallow his objection and turn back toward Mellody. “Lady Mellody, that is not entirely true.”

  “Isn’t it?” she asked.

  “This town was built around the brewery by the Carstairs family for our employees,” Drake said in a low tone. “The Lord of Carstairs owns this entire town.”

  “Not the entire town, Drake,” Mellody corrected. “There has been some construction by others over the years, but we still own about eighty-five percent.” Looking at the mayor, she continued in a stern tone.

  “Your appointments, your authority, come from us, and we can withdraw those appointments at any time and replace you with someone else if we feel there is a reason.”

  All five members of the council were looking distinctly uncomfortable. Sheriff Dalkar hesitantly drew Mellody’s attention.

  “Lady Mellody, is there something specific that has you so angry?”

  “Yes,” Drake answered. “It has been brought to our attention that several people in this town have been using our gold to enhance their lifestyles and banking their own gold to use later. Mardoe was one of them, and we’ve been told of others.”

  The city councilmen looked at one another, and then the mayor spoke. “Lord Drake, I have to confess that I have used city funds to redecorate my offices and residence, but that has been common practice here since long before I was appointed to the office o
f mayor.”

  Sheriff Dalkar was nodding his agreement. “Maintaining city buildings, City Hall, the Sheriff’s Office and Jail, and the Mayor’s Residence, has always been part of the city budget.”

  “As is true in every city,” Mellody replied, “but I have never seen opulence like I observed in Mardoe’s suite, even in Blue Ridge.”

  The mayor and councilmen again exchanged glances. “We didn’t realize—Please accept our most humble apologies, Lady Mellody. I was under the impression that we were just maintaining equality with the other major cities in Vernardia.”

  Drake shook his head. “No, you have exceeded them by a wide margin. Mount Royal is the only place I’ve seen in Vernardia that is even close, and even then, I can only compare what I’ve seen here with the queen’s suite in the palace.”

  Now the mayor looked very uncomfortable. “Perhaps we exceeded what was needed, but we meant well.”

  Mellody shook her head and addressed the sheriff. “Have you seen Mardoe’s suite in our inn? My suite in the palace isn’t anywhere close to that ornate.”

  The sheriff looked worried, and Drake pounced. “I take it from your expression that we’d be disturbed by your quarters as well.” The sheriff nodded mutely, and Drake shook his head. “It would be counterproductive to have you redecorate in a more subdued style. And cost more gold. However,” he paused and swept the room with an angry glare, “you will not continue the practice.”

  All the city councilmen nodded their agreement. The mayor spoke for all of them when he said, “We shall limit ourselves in the future.”

  “Very well,” Mellody replied in a soft tone. “Now to new business. The former Bresardian General Markinson has sent his men into Vernardia in an attempt to draw General Preston away from what used to be the Bresardian Continental Province. We found one town they had destroyed ourselves, and we’ve heard of several others. All Army detachments are to be on full alert, and all men trained in arms shall, and I do mean all of you,” she looked at each councilman, “shall have your weapons close at hand to defend your town and the rest of Carstairs if needed.”

  “You’re calling up the draft?” one of the councilors asked in a stunned whisper.

  “Yes,” Drake replied. “Our information is that General Markinson has twelve hundred and thirty-six men under his command. While the only verified count we have of these groups is from the one we encountered, we are guessing ten groups of eleven men each. That is only a guess based on when and where the attacks occurred.”

  “What can we do?” one of the councilors whined as he wrung his hands in fear. “It’s been dozens of years since we have had to fight anyone.”

  “You all show up and hope they are frightened off by the number of men you have,” Mellody snapped. “You cannot appease these men. If you try, they’ll kill you and your families, and burn the town.”

  Drake looked around and said, “That will be all for today, lords. We’ll only be staying a few more days. Have the appropriate proclamations posted around town. The sooner you are prepared, the sooner we can move on to the next city.”

  Drake and Mellody stood and the councilmen immediately stood as well, bowing deeply as their overlords left the room.

  Mellody waited until they were outside before saying, “The only way any of them is going to face these raiders is if the town falls and they are slaughtered.”

  “Agreed, but at least the commoners who were soldiers will arm themselves,” Drake murmured.

  They returned to the inn and found another surprise. Ten men and women were waiting for them, each dressed in their finest clothing. As soon as Mellody and Drake were recognized, all of them bowed.

  A single old man straightened and stepped forward. “Lord Drake, Lady Mellody, we have come to swear our fealty to you,” he smiled as he turned to face Mellody directly, “as we did to your grandfather so long ago.”

  Mellody smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Lord Berdin,” she replied, smiling broadly at his expression of delighted surprise that she recognized him after so long.

  One by one the couples stepped forward and Mellody introduced all but one of them by name. “You’re new to me,” she murmured.

  The man and woman both bowed deeply. The woman smiled as she said, “Lady Mellody, I am Ferhan Havencroft, Lady of Havencroft, and this is my husband, Lord Westlin.”

  “I thought Lord Victis—”

  The woman looked sad as she answered the unasked question. “My father died a year ago, and mother soon after. Both of my brothers fell to the Bresardians, so the estate came to us.”

  “I wasn’t informed,” Mellody whispered.

  Westlin bowed as he said, “Lady Mellody, Lord Drake, we swear our fealty to you as Lord and Lady Carstairs.”

  Mellody smiled as she replied, “We accept your fealty, Lord and Lady Havencroft.”

  Another visitor arrived shortly after the midday meal. A tall, slender man walked up to their table and bowed. “Lord Drake, Lady Mellody, I am Darvel Menkan, Master Brewer of the Carstairs Brewery.”

  Drake smiled broadly and motioned toward a chair. “Join us. We wanted to discuss brewing recipes with you.”

  Mellody chuckled and shook her head. “Not me, Drake. This was your idea. I’m going to wander around a bit.” Drake and Darvel stood to bow as she walked away.

  Drake motioned back to the table. “I like your brew, Darvel. Have you ever tried—”

  * * *

  Mellody was chuckling as she walked away. Drake’s fascination with brewing beer was something she just didn’t understand. She left the inn and walked up the main street with a smile on her lips. Brewington was one of the largest cities on the Carstairs lands, and one of the richest.

  She was just strolling along, not going anywhere in particular, when screams echoed through the streets. She shielded herself, and then ran toward the screams.

  The sound led her down a dark alley, and into a courtyard. A group of men was circled around something, and she shouted, “Stand aside!”

  The men turned toward her, and she found herself facing nine armed men while two others continued raping a young woman. Power wreathed her in silver, and she struck the men, only to have her power reflected back in her face.

  The men attacked as soon as she staggered back, and one of them said, “I’m first with this one.” It was the last thing he ever said.

  A ball of golden power materialized in the center of the men, and the Daemon’s hiss of rage echoed in the small space. The protective amulets the men were carrying meant nothing to the creature, nor did their armor, swords, or axes. In moments, the Daemon was alone with Mellody and the rape victim. Light once again shrouded the Daemon and when it faded Drake was there, hugging Mellody.

  “Are you all right, darling?” he murmured.

  “I am, but she’s not.” She pointed to the girl and Drake saw the deep gash across her throat. She had died even before Drake arrived. One of the men moaned, and she seized him by the front of his shirt. A quick search revealed the protective amulet that had deflected her power, and she threw it against a wall. Then she put both hands on the sides of his head and used a Forbidden Spell, one that was as well-known as the charm to bring foxfire to your fingers, and forced rapport on the man. Minds melded, and she ruthlessly stripped him of his memories.

  She snarled, “They’re already here, Drake,” as she twisted the man’s head violently, breaking his neck. “This team and two others.” She called power around herself, then sent it coursing through the city.

  Drake asked, “What are you looking for?”

  “The amulets. The power signature is strange, but distinctive.”

  Drake knelt and grasped another of the amulets and felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He knew that signature, and said one word as he stood: “Crawn.”

  “What? Your kitten?” Mellody demanded, angry at him for breaking her concentration.

  “Crawn, the Ocellen I defeated at Blue Ridge. The other group didn’t have
any magical protections. I wonder why these did.”

  Mellody closed her eyes again and resumed her search. “I have them,” she murmured. She reached out and took his hand, then opened her mind to him. “Can you see?”

  Drake closed his eyes and followed her thoughts to where the other raiders had taken over an inn. He looked to the side and two quivers of arrows flew to his hand. Then, putting an arm around Mellody’s shoulders, he teleported both of them to the raiders.

  The sudden appearance of two people in the common room threw some of the raiders off balance, especially since Drake threw in a thunder-clap for good measure, but they recovered quickly. Four of the raiders rushed toward them after the initial shock had worn off, but Drake simply tossed arrows at them. Magic sped them on their way, driving them through the men’s chests with ease.

  Other raiders had drawn knives and swords, but Mellody had learned from her husband. The knives of the men Drake had killed flew with a will of their own to bury themselves in the unprotected throats of the attackers.

  A thrown ax bounced off Drake’s shields, and he sent it whirling back to its origin. The ax decapitated the man who threw it, then killed three more men before burying itself in the wall.

  One of the men screamed, “You can’t use magic against us!” Drake’s answer was to put an arrow through the fool’s eye. That seemed to quell the resistance of the rest.

  Mellody shouted, “Drop your weapons!”

  Another man screamed, “Magi are forbidden to use magic against regular troops!”

  Drake looked at him and used magic to twist his head around backwards. “In war, against troops, yes. In peacetime, against bandits, no.”

  “We are Bresardian soldiers!” another man shouted.

  “The war with Bresardia is over,” Mellody snapped. “You lost. Your General Markinson has condemned you all by turning you into bandits preying on our people.”

  The surviving men had gathered in a corner of the common room, and one man stepped forward. “We are soldiers! You can’t say we’re not.”

  Drake’s answer was to simply shrug. “You are bandits, arrested for banditry, no matter what you choose to call yourselves.”