Fletcher

by P. S. Power

“Well, that did not last long. I suppose that I’ll be married by tomorrow, at this rate? At least their little Prince is not ugly or stupid. I was surprised to learn he bothered to learn our language, which is a good sign. He also didn’t insist that he test me in bed first thing.” She waved at herself. There was no makeup on her face, since she’d clearly just been resting.

  Her hair really was short, however. The rest of the face was delicate enough, even if she was exactly as tall as she’d seemed before. There was no burn on her face and her shoulders were half again narrower than they had been the day before.

  The others looked at each of them, as if expecting something.

  Anders just moved into cleaning the room, changing the water, and then on request, leaving the room a bit warmer than he found comfortable. It was Sandra, the other lady, who requested that.

  “This place, the whole it, cool.”

  She covered her chest with her arms, which he ignored. There was no flirting in it, just a desire to be a bit warmer. The girl also didn’t seem to think that him doing things with magic was a problem or impressive in particular. The Princess openly stared at him the whole time. She and her friend moved to the other room to dress for the day. Leaving him with Eltha to go door to door again, sending food in. The servants came and did that part, even for Duma Sett.

  For her part she was perfectly charming and not dangerous seeming at all. More so than she had been earlier, even.

  Depak Sona came and collected him with a few small waves, so that they could get to their own meal. If that was the purpose of what they were doing. It would probably be about something else. Such as what he’d found out about the new people, so far. Not that others couldn’t just go and talk to them. That would probably work as well. Having the room boy do it was a harder way to get at the good information. There was only so much he could ask, after all.

  They bowed as they came in, with several new faces having just gotten there it seemed, since they were bowing as well. There was the older man dressed as a Castle Guard, as well as the clean shaved, yet wrinkled fellow that had found the magic the day before.

  Master Tolan. He had a bland expression on his face. One that soured when looking at Depak Sona and then righted itself when seeing Anders. His eyes lingered on the left sleeve of his now blue clothing. Where the symbols for the pushing spell were still embroidered. The color of the thread had been changed to blue, matching the rest of the outfit he had on.

  Removing that kind of thing was outside of what he could manage at all, so far. Short of cutting the sleeve off totally.

  The man noticed him being noticed and gave a nod with a small smile. Then they were all arrayed at the table, with Anders being moved in beside Prince Erold. As soon as they were settled and food was placed in front of them, the King spoke between careful bites of food. That allowed everyone else to eat then, though just to be certain, Anders went slowly.

  “We need to allow the Modroc the freedom of the castle. Erold seems to find that Princess Sweyn is an appropriate bride. The looks are… Well, as you said to me earlier, such things are not the measure of a person. Very well stated, son.”

  The Prince sat up straight, eating at a measured pace, not speaking until his mouth was clear of food.

  “We must have closer ties with Modroc. Especially now. This was either an attack on us by them or some third party trying to send us at each other.”

  No one answered that, since it was clearly one or the other. Prince Robarts looked down the table, his eyes taking in all of them, one by one. The people at the farther end of the thing at least.

  “Is there word on the servant’s situation there?”

  The old looking guard, who had a nice full beard, even if it was gray, nodded.

  “We’ve settled that for now. The guard on duty handled that for us.”

  The Queen made a tense face then, hunching over.

  “Beatings?”

  There was a chuckle from the old one with the beard then.

  “Nothing so aggressive. Brolly here asked him to put around to the servants how gentle and kind the new people were. Then one of the serving lads stood up to the task and was able to let the others know that it was, more or less, simple truth.”

  Prince Alpert moved forward a bit to look at Anders, nodding twice as he did so.

  Then the conversation shifted. To him.

  Chapter twelve

  King Matheus set the tone, which wasn’t that harsh, thankfully. The words were blunt, without seeming to command anything too negative.

  “So, Brolly… You saved several lives and maybe stopped a war. What do you have planned for today?”

  Everyone looked at him, as if his answer was going to be significant at all.

  “Mainly seeing to lessons. The Bowyer and Fletcher are increasing their efforts, so I’ve been put to that. Also seeing to the new people, if the need arises. Cleaning for them or making sure they have what they need? With real servants on that part it probably won’t be important. That’s about it so far, Your Majesty.”

  The man, who was ample around the middle, without it being so much it impaired him, smiled then.

  “That sounds like a good plan. Have you found anything about the Modroc then? It seems a bit soon to send the inquisitors after them.”

  That didn’t seem likely, except that he did have a few things. Small ones that would probably be easily checked. It was a bit intimidating telling people things at the table. Especially when half of them were staring at him closely, including Prince Robarts.

  “Some small things, in passing. The attackers were on the ship with them. I didn't find out when they came onto the vessel. They traveled with them from the port here, hiring on as road guards. It was felt that bringing in warriors from their homeland would be too aggressive. That came from Duma Clarisse Sett. Tutor of the Princess and her ladies.” No one asked him a question then, so he went on. It seemed to be urged by the oldest Prince, who nodded.

  “Eltha Tennet is her main student, I think. Her apprentice in magic? I could have the title wrong there. She was the woman that the killers went for first. It seems that they were going after those using magic as a priority. That could mean anything, as far as I know. I haven’t worked out much more. The women seem to use illusion. That’s their claim to magic at any rate. Oh!”

  The exclamation got everyone to look his way. They stopped eating as well.

  “I nearly forgot. The Princess had Eltha using an illusion on her, to make her look the way we’ve seen her. She’s thinner across the shoulders, unblemished of face and more than passingly attractive. That was without makeup, as Eltha pounded on her door and shouted her awake for the day. Apparently, the thought was to scare you away, Prince Erold, in case you were foul smelling, ugly or too foolish to be bothered with. She did allow that you are none of those things, so might be dropping that part now. It was a fairly clever plan really. If you refused her, then it wouldn’t be her fault, after all.”

  About half the people there seemed upset to hear the news. Prince Erold simply grinned.

  “Truly? That’s nice to hear. That she doesn’t find me too unpleasant. I was almost certain that I’d driven her away, butchering her native tongue as I did yesterday. In the heat I fear that I forgot to conjugate the verbs properly.”

  Anders started to eat again, and was allowed to then, for seven or so bites.

  Then Princess Aisla cleared her throat.

  “Now, great-grandfather… about you lying to us all yesterday? Claiming that you were doing the magic that Anders did? Why say that at all? The attack rather gave the lie there, didn’t it? You’re a skilled man in magic. That wouldn’t allow you to cast spells on two fronts, controlling the mind of a boy while fighting a sluoagh. Not even the simple ones that he was using. Perhaps you could explain that to us?”

  Depak covered by laughing. Then he lied to his great granddaughter, again. Smoothly and without hesitation.

  “Ah! Great grandchild, you are obser
vant. I found the other day that Anders Brolly is a rare sort. A child with a memory that allows him to learn many things, very quickly. Then I tested him to see if he has the magical quality, which he does, in the same zone of being that I do. I lent him a book and set some minor drills for him, that is all. As to the lie I told you… That was to prevent confusion at the time. It does, truly, take close to five or ten years normally for one to work to the point that he has mastered in a few days. It will still take that long for true mastery. I did not wish any to think he was more able than he actually is so far. Notice, what he did in battle was as I said? He pushed some bodies and set a single man on fire. Slowly. I admit, casting lightning while targeting a blade as a conductor was unexpected. He still has much to learn. I hear he hasn’t even begun archery lessons yet?”

  The strange way of putting things got a nod, from Prince Robarts.

  “I’ve heard that as well. Alpert, you’re planning on doing that as well? We should get Anders here trained fast. That will take at least three years. Should he focus on magic?” The man looked at his sister in-law for that.

  Aisla shook her head.

  “Not if war is possibly upon us soon. What I was told about the current plan makes the most sense. Archery and spear, with magic being taught as it may. If he can learn to use both, the arrow and his magic, that can be a powerful combination. Worth having in battle.”

  From the far end of the table the gray bearded guard took a deep breath.

  “I’ve heard of that. From out of the southern lands. A single man casting out arrows that hit with great explosions. That or cause the earth to open and shake, or everything within ten paces to freeze solid, including men and horses. Near far as an arrow can fly away from them. That’s hard, for a magic user elsewise, isn’t it Master Tolan?”

  The wrinkled man gave a nod then, a bite of bread in his mouth. There was no effort made to speak until he was finished with it.

  “That is true. Most who use magic have tricks to move and use it away from their body. A bit of clothing or blood from the target works for many. Otherwise it’s hard to effect things more than ten paces from a body. You can, I have learned, fling things further, just not with control. I too, have heard of using arrows for that. That could be valuable if trouble comes.” The man smiled. “Not as much as cleaning rooms with magic, however. That can take place every day.”

  That hadn’t been mentioned at all, which the man seemed to know, since he was being smug about it. Then, it was clear that a lot of people there wanted information about the newcomers. That this man also made it his business probably just seemed correct to the others there.

  Depak Sona waved the words away.

  “It is important to practice, often. That is how one gains skill.”

  No one seemed to want to argue that particular point. They shifted topics away from him then, which was a relief. The idea of important and powerful people, ones with war on the horizon from what seemed more than one source, worrying about anything else felt wrong to him.

  Robarts looked at his Father, then toward his own wife, Princess Peri.

  “If we can settle things peacefully with the Modroc, then we only have to worry about Yanse in the East and Dora, to the north. Why so many things are taking place at one time still baffles me. We’ve been friendly with Yanse for almost fifty years. Then they send notice of intent to make war. The forward scouts speak of troop movements. Still within their own borders. Dora has been waiting only for us to weaken along that border to take action. If they’re working together… A two front war would be hard for us. On three fronts it might well be our end.”

  The King frowned then. It was clear he didn't totally agree with his son. That or he didn’t like the words being spoken at all. Regardless, no rebuke came. Not even in the form of a gentle correction.

  “Modroc is warlike. Also, on a different continent. Normally it would be foolish for them to seek war this far from their home. Ambassador Depak… How are things on that front there, in Barquea”

  The room went silent as Depak Sona took a deliberate sip of water from his goblet.

  “They have not sought war with us in thirty years. The last time we defeated them it cost them greatly. So much so that we have heard no more than whispers from them for that time entire.” He paused, for another sip of water, his eyes looking at the table, instead of the King. It was humble seeming. That or slightly frightened. “Then, one year ago, they started to move on us. Along the border at first. Their losses were light, our own no worse. They kept coming until we set to march real forces to protect ourselves there. Then our men were beset, by an army of dark entities. One such you saw yesterday. A man ridden by an evil beast that commands great and powerful magics. This one seemed locked to fire. Thankfully. I’ve seen beasts in that form level small mountains, if they hold the right affinity.”

  Anders ate slowly, since it wasn’t the place of a boy to interject. More than that, he wasn’t sitting on more knowledge than was being given. That he and he alone would be the one to see things that others missed was a conceit of the young. That left him time to focus on using his provided silver knife and fork carefully, not letting the egg fall off too easily. It happened to him, twice. No one bothered to mock him for it, if they noticed at all.

  His fingers were a bit sore, from working the strings the day before. That wasn’t an excuse for poor manners. The meal itself was informative, in many ways.

  King Matheus waved an empty hand at Depak Sona, doing it gently.

  “You believe that Modroc is sending these creatures at us?”

  “Truly?” There was a soft move of the head from the dark mustache wearing man. His eyes narrowed. “I do not. The sense here is that many are being played against each other. We need to ask ourselves, who benefits if we war amongst ourselves? Modroc might, if they are able and wise, defeat Barquea. Thinking that any land is impervious to the might of armies and trickery is foolhardy. That said, when war comes between our peoples, it is that other end that suffers, most often. I’ve heard that our Sula Darian, our King, was visited by an ambassador of Yanse, not six months ago. In turn we have been in touch with each land on the two continents and the Island of Morse. Each place reports hostility rising, with no apparent root cause.”

  Princess Aisla made a noise that got half the table to look her way.

  “What could rise, that would do that? Some land seeking to weaken the rest or the King of the sluagh waking from his eternal slumber?”

  No one knew the answer to that. Only that it really seemed like they were going to need to march forces to the east and north before mid-summer. It was already mid-spring, which didn’t give them much time to prepare at all. As the meal broke up, the Queen waved to Anders. No one else seemed to notice it happening.

  The matronly woman patted his shoulder when he bowed in front of her.

  “My dream did not let me know what was coming or why. Only that I must get Anders Brolly to the right place, at a dire time. It wasn’t my plan to endanger you that way.” The look in her eye was a bit sad. Then she glanced at her son, Erold. He was near the door, being kept busy for the day. When she looked back, she seemed happier. “Then you went forth to battle for us all and won. There will be more such tests, coming too soon by far. You need to prepare as best you can. I’ll try to keep you out of harm’s way… Except that I already know that won’t work. I have seen you ride out to war, carrying two bows, and many arrows. You are speaking the language of Yanse, to the East. My son, your Father, rides at the head of the men. There is battle after that, a blur. I’ve never seen things too far forward. Not well. I cannot like sending one so young to war.” She started to cry then, moving away quickly.

  That probably meant that she’d seen more and at least some she knew were going to die. Probably not him. There was no reason for the woman to cry over that. One or more of her children then. That or a close friend that Anders wouldn’t know about.

  On the good side, the woman seemed
kind enough. He’d been uncertain of that before. Now it just seemed to be right. On the bad, she seemed to have the gift of sight. She’d gotten him to a spot he had no reason in the world to be, in time to use his simple magics at the right time. That could mean that she was correct about Yanse. What language they spoke there, he wasn’t aware. A thing different enough that the Queen recognized it. The woman would have said nothing if it was the same as Istlan.

  No one stopped him as he left the morning meal. That was correct enough. Even Depak Sona simply waved for him to move away with two fingers, as he spoke with Prince Robarts. That meant he was back to his own chambers next, primed to hurry to the bowyer shop. When he got there several others were working that day. The head Fletcher waved him in.

  “Sixty arrows, of which seven were lacking. That does meet what I was calling for plus thirteen. Good enough. I want that again tonight. Fifty, will serve. Take no more than five hours on it. Ten per hour. Now, the Bowyer was asking after you. Why are you so late? There was no attack today, was there?”

  The young master crafter was interested, not accusing.

  Anders let himself smile. Any day without an attack was probably a good one. It was a start in that direction at least.

  “Nothing that dire, thank all that is good. I had to clean the chambers for the new people this morning and then attend a meal with Depak Sona. Some others as well. I don’t want to lie about it, I’m just not certain what I’m allowed to say. I came nearly straight here, after that.”

  The man nodded, then gave him a skeptical look.

  “Nearly? That sounds… Slow.”

  “Yes. I was stopped to talk to someone.”

  The man might have asked who but he didn’t.

  “To your bows then, my lad. Remember, fifty good arrows, unless you have a very good reason why you don’t have them. Even then, the rule says you get beaten if you fail. Everyone has to meet their mark that way.”

  The bowyer looked at him, and then made a sound in his throat. It wasn’t pleasant.