The Silent Blade

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The Silent Blade Page 13

by P. S. Power


  The answer to that question was clear. Nothing at all. Instead of lying, Anders simply shrugged.

  “Me not living here full time? I don’t think it’s about personal hatred, or anything like that. It wasn’t. He might be holding a grudge now, after what happened earlier. That... It wasn’t my doing that made it happen, but he seems the type to not really understand that his own actions were part of the disaster that took place.”

  That it seemed, was a thing that they all could agree on. At least the others both nodded.

  Chapter nine

  Anders still had two guards with him for the day, so he brought some silver with him, as well as a small bag of gold, to pay for food and help people that might need it. Mikail came, along with Rondu. Both of them were older men, but only compared to Anders. Mikail was easier with him that day than the one before, though Rondu took until after the meal that Anders paid for to become used to him. They both did it, however, and the day, while busy with healing, was no worse than the one before.

  People came, a few just to visit and chat for a few moments. They were polite, though it was slightly odd, people he didn’t know at all seeking him out just to say hello.

  The little shop was being left alone, as far as he could tell, and while it needed to be cleaned at the end of the day, since dust had started to get in, neither guard thought he was being too strange in staying for some moments, to use half a dozen spells to clean the place.

  Then, glancing at Mikail, he grinned.

  “Now, we should go back along a different path? Perhaps come in from gate I’ve never used before?”

  The words had both men chuckling.

  Rondu reached out and slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Good! Here I was fretting, trying to come up with a reason to sneak back. There is no threat to you that is likely, but an attempt was made yesterday, so it could take place again today. This way. It will take more walking.”

  The man wasn’t wrong. They hurried, so, only an hour later, Anders was back in his room, able to wash up again, and to get his daily exercises and martial reviews done, before Lassa found him. The boy tapped on the door, and seemed annoyed to have to do even that.

  “This is boring, you know that, Prince Anders?” He grinned. “Lissa Sona did teach me twenty different spells parts and hand magics already. In a single day. That’s incredible. No wonder you paid a whole box of gold for the lessons. I’d thought that it was meant as an insult, saying that I was so much bother that my own sister needed to be bribed to aid me.”

  Ander grinned.

  “No, it was that. Everyone else gets free lessons from her, so far. So, be insulted, if only on a small level. You did try to kill me, after all. Now, show me what you learned?”

  He readied himself to be pushed, but Prince Lassa made a light, instead, which appeared over his fingers. It was strong enough, without being a blinding pain to look at. Then he went to the window, and made a gentle rain come into being. Over the course of several minutes, it became clear that Princess Lissa, being intelligent as she was, hadn’t shown her murderous brother anything that would easily be used to harm anyone.

  Anders cheered on realizing he wasn’t about to die. At least not from magic. Not at that moment.

  “Excellent! I was thinking we’d go over memory techniques now, since you had a full morning of magic. If you will use them, such tricks will speed your education incredibly. Then we need to find some people. I hear that Prince Nedros is around?”

  That got a sour expression to appear on the boy’s face.

  “He doesn’t love me.”

  “He’s not fond of me, either. That’s fine. I want his advice, that’s all.”

  Prince Lassa shook his head.

  “To see how to best hide my body? Oh, my sister Liasa wants to know if you’d like to get married? To her, I mean. I think she was asking after that. I promised to ask. I can’t suggest it. She only learned fifteen new tricks today, working with Salina. Some different things, I noticed. Ones that Lissa was instructed by the Great One not to show me, yet...” He actually seemed suspicious.

  Anders was just honest about the idea.

  “Yes, the more deadly things. Normally some of those are in the first set, since they’re fun to use. You’ll probably have to earn those. That or figure out how to make up your own spells. That... Well, the memory techniques will aid in that, really. Shall we?”

  They only went over things for an hour, since Farad realized that they needed the boy to learn how to learn, instead of only how to learn magic, specifically. It was a longer course of study, with more parts involved.

  Then before the late meal, Anders sought Prince Nedros, with his magic. The man was there in the palace complex, but when he, leading Prince Lassa, got to the correct door, a very long walk later, the other boy shook his head.

  “Father’s offices. Of course. Well...” He called out, instead of knocking or anything like that. “Father? Prince Nedros? We’ve come to find you!”

  The words had the curtain at the front of the space pushed aside, about thirty seconds later.

  Nedros, his mustache well-groomed and hair shorn on the top of his head, looked ready to strike someone. He actually softened when he noticed who was there, however.

  “Andros and Lassy! The very men of the moment. Come, come... Father was just asking if we could have you killed on the front of the war. Unfortunately, that is more or less over, so we’re seeking another place to put you. Is that why you came?”

  Anders nodded.

  “Minus the death part? Prince Lassa has decided on a military education, so that he’ll at least know what to do that way. For some months, only. Princess Salina and Princess Lissa will need that as well. Command training, as well as the daily work of the military. I’d go along, but I have to head into Modroc, with Princess Sweyn and Prince Erold. Before you ask, Ned, no, I don’t really need to be there. I was asked to go, which seems to be the whole of the reason there.”

  Nedros slapped him on the shoulder, hard enough to stagger him a bit. It didn’t hurt, being more of a push, to get him past the curtain being held open.

  “Yes? I can see taking Lassa, but the girls? Especially Salina...”

  He got that idea. No one had mentioned what had been going on that way to him.

  “She was on campaign and in battle, up north. Training to be your new apprentice Great One. She had to kill hundreds. Perhaps more than that. She did not fail in that task, though it harmed her soul, as such things do. She’s stronger than when you last saw her. Harder, in a way.”

  Instead of calling him a liar, Ned just made a low grunting noise.

  “Lissa, as well?”

  “No. She helped to build roads and buildings, instead. Lassa is learning magic from her, and at his current pace should be able to aid with that sort of task, in the coming months. That and do some light healing. The others can do much more, of course. Then, they’re both Apprentice Great Ones. More should be expected of them, given that.”

  The Sula grinned. It was an honest to goodness, affable, expression. One that seemed fond of his children, for a moment. Then he looked at Lassa, and that faded. Slowly, but it turned from a thing that spoke of love and admiration, to sadness and disappointment. If it was fake, then the man was a master of such things. Anders pretended not to notice it happening.

  Not that it mattered. The man clapped then. It was more official seeming than anything Anders had noticed from him before.

  “I will ask with some of my generals, if such can be put together. I don’t love the sound of it, but children must grow up sometime. Lassa, you will protect your sisters, if this can be arranged?” The tone spoke of the Sula expecting his own son to throw a fit, or say no.

  Prince Lassa seemed displeased, but glanced at Anders, rubbed his face, which was still lumpy with swelling from having been struck many times, and nodded.

  “As I can, Father. I should at least see to studying with Lissa. We should get some of
the others in for that? Perhaps Anders can pay for it?” There was a dark undertone to the words. It was enough that Nedros actually scowled at the statement.

  “Why would Prince Anders do that, in particular? Not that I’ve found him stingy or coin hungry... Is Lissa requiring payment for such tasks, already? With family?”

  The Sula, leader of an entire land, actually rolled his eyes.

  “Ah... Prince Anders provided a decently large chest of gold and gems to her, to provide for Lassa’s instruction. She was asking me last night if I thought she should give it back, or use it to provide for Barquea’s poor. She understands that it was a bit of a slap at Lassa?” He glanced at Anders.

  Who sighed.

  “She isn’t wrong. Forgive me Lassa. I fear I was a bit annoyed with you, yesterday. For trying to stab me? I probably shouldn’t have started things by getting Prince Naveed to help me douse you with water. That was...”

  Nedros seemed lost, and Lassa deflated a bit.

  “I know. I’m sure that Eltha Tennet is a grand woman, if of Modroc. I should have been more polite in my words. Really, with anyone, not just a person from that particular land. A full six people have scolded me over that portion of things already. Only four have done so about trying to end you, Anders, just so you know what people find more important.”

  The words were grumpy seeming, and got the boy slapped on the arm, by Nedros.

  “Probably because everyone understands that taking on Andros means you dying. Even if you sent teams of people for him, that is the likely outcome. In the future, the appropriate response to a prank, like being hit with some water, is another prank. Not death. This is a discussion that we shouldn’t have to be having, you know that, don’t you, little brother? The penalty for the murder of a Prince of Barquea is death. Even for attempting it and failing. Even for another Prince... How is it that you are alive, exactly?” The man seemed genuinely baffled on that score.

  Darian closed his eyes.

  “Prince Anders called for that. Even though it might cause a war for us with our friends in Istlan. The Great One, Grandfather Depak, has been speaking with them and their Ambassador here, to smooth things over that way. Things are tense, so far. We might yet have to sacrifice Lassa, to return to normal. This action has done real damage. Two of my own daughters, your sisters, live in that land, as well. A third is still visiting there. They’re at risk, for retaliation over this.” For a moment, the man shuddered, glared at Lassa in near rage, then collected himself and looked at Anders.

  After too long a time for comfort, the man sighed. Then he glanced at Nedros.

  “I told Anders that I’d drop him to the fiftieth place in the line, if he did this. He said that it was a fair price, for a life...” The man wrinkled his nose and looked at Ned. “It wasn’t until last night that Naveed explained to me that Anders didn’t know that was just a thing we say here, at times. He thought that it was the actual payment for your life, Lassa. For the life of a fool who had tried to murder him. I don’t know if I agree with the idea, but it certainly shows that he isn’t simply trying to climb the ranks with bold moves, doesn’t it Ned?”

  The older man stroked his mustache, hiding a grin.

  “Hence my suggesting him to be the heir, last year. I can’t see that’s changed, really.”

  Sula Darian nodded, and even Lassa, seeming disgusted by the admission, did the same.

  Anders cleared his throat then.

  “We can’t allow that. Even if I seem helpful and polite. I’m simply not a son of Barquea and never will be. Naveed is the right man for that job. Nedros would be good as well, but is perhaps a bit too hard. Not that there can’t be a place for that. The same for Princess Sendra, though I only met her briefly. She certainly got things done. Princess Aisla is living in a far-off land, which as she has mentioned for herself, many times, removes her from serious consideration for that role. At least if she doesn’t move back here.” He shrugged then. “Her son, my brother, Leopold, is to be the King of Yanse, when he reaches the age of twenty-five. Currently Prince Alpert is the regent there. They can’t leave, given that.”

  Everyone looked at him then, strangely, and Anders shrugged, then lied a bit.

  Only a little.

  “I was offered Yanse, but... I killed tens of thousands of men to take it. They speak my name in fear there. So we’re pressing the job forward. They don’t know that Alpert is my father, there. Not openly. I suggested that I be exiled, so that those of Yanse could rest easy, knowing the monster is banished. That was refused, of course. The Prince and his advisors worried that the Army would follow me, if I left under such a cloud, so I simply went back home, instead.”

  Everyone was silent, for a time, then the Sula nodded.

  “I understand, Prince Anders. So, you suggest Naveed, Nedros and Sendra? Even over yourself?”

  He nodded.

  “Truly, that is the better way. Also Princess Lissa, of course. She’s down the list and is youthful at the moment, so should be forced to climb it, but she’s been working constantly, learning and training others, for the last year. Also aiding the poor, and helping to build roads, with her own powers. That isn’t a little thing, either. Not a few hours work that’s being blown out of proportion. She’s constructed entire buildings, large ones, for common people.” Anders snapped his fingers, and smiled suddenly. “Oh, yes. Prince Baret has put together an idea, for renovating some of the palace? Using magic. I was thinking that sounded like a wonderful idea. For practice? If we can do that. If it’s allowed, I mean.”

  There was a nod then.

  “The old North wing? It’s the most run down. Hardly anyone uses it now, so it will be the least amount of work to clear out, for a time. How long will you need to do the work?”

  “It will depend on who decides to help and how large it is, but probably no more than a few weeks. Possibly less than that, of course. We could start in, call it a month? That way we can have Prince Lassa aid with it. Before you go off to the military for training. We’ll need a place for you to practice putting buildings up, Prince Lassa.”

  He was jesting, which everyone there seemed to understand. At least they laughed, politely. Even Lassa. It was funny, so Anders smiled as well.

  “Now, we should get to meditation work, after a meal. I’ve been working in the city, in the mornings. Oh, may I use the small theater for practice? I have some of the servants aiding me, so I can practice the show I have in mind. Then, if all goes well, I can show you and the others that in, call it three days?”

  Nedros glared at him.

  “In two? Don’t be lazy, Andros.”

  He tilted his head and nodded.

  “You know, if I can use that space right now, or after the meal? Lassa can meditate while watching that. It won’t be the same, but...” The boy didn’t need to become a master of the mind, if that was not his way. Learning to be calm and think before acting was probably enough for a minor prince, really.

  The rest of the pushing was just to put him around people of discipline, in the hopes that some of that might wear off onto him. It probably wouldn’t last, but he was at an age where things like that could still work. In ten years’ time it would be too late by far. It was close already.

  Farad knew that one from his first life.

  The boys who tried to come to the hermitage past fourteen or so often didn’t last or adapt very well. Part of that was due to how different a life of contemplation and books was, of course. Lassa just needed to not go around saying the wrong thing or stabbing people. That gave them a while to make things work out.

  Also, Anders was leaving soon. He had a job to do with the boy, aiding him in becoming a better person. If he couldn’t do it, then, once he was going, it wasn’t his responsibility any longer. Also, he kind of thought that Sula Darian had given him the task originally as an offhand and non-serious, matter.

  A jest, since he was frustrated and didn’t know how to fix his errant son.

  At le
ast one didn’t normally dump the problem children on an even younger one, as a rule. Not that Anders had ever heard about. Then, Farad wasn’t a child. Anders was, but even then, he’d been at war. It had changed him and the course of his life, he couldn’t doubt.

  Then, the point of a man was to grow and become useful. Doing that a bit early wasn’t a thing to lament. Even if it was a bit annoying, at the moment. He would have liked to spend time with people other than Lassa, if given a choice. Almost anyone, really. It probably was the same going in the other direction, of course.

  So, instead of letting the whole thing bother him, Anders sat up straight, which, for some reason, had the Sula smiling at him.

  “You’re eager to see to your plans? Very good. Perhaps Prince Lassa should dine with me, this night? Alone. We have much to speak about.” There was a wave at the curtain over the door, telling him to get out.

  Anders stood up from the low pillow and left, directly, bowing on the way out. It wasn’t exactly the custom there, but he did manage to bend with his hands out to the sides, instead of using Istlan’s first, or even second, courtly. Before he got too far away, Nedros followed him.

  The man seemed annoyed, for some reason. When he closed the distance, his boots loud on the hard stone of the corridor, the tile and white walls echoing with each step, the fellow cleared his throat.

  “I fear that no one has truly been considering you in this, Andros. Lassa tried to kill you. Openly and in public. Poorly, it sounds like. That can’t leave you feeling comfortable here. It does happen. Indeed, once every ten years or so, someone believes that getting rid of the competition above them will improve their own chance for the throne. It never does, but people will try, anyway. On occasion, like with you, it was probably a simple grudge. Lassa felt that you and Naveed humbled him, and instead of coming at you like a man, and demanding an apology, or even returning the prank, he sought a darker solution. Princes can be... Well, we aren’t all sweet and kind, like myself and you.”

 

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