by P. S. Power
The dark-skinned man grimaced then.
“I’m not making light of this, even if it seems like it. Father is seeking to save his child, which I understand... Except that it can’t work. Not in the long run. If we allow people to get away with attempting to assassinate others, then everyone will start doing it, knowing that they’re going to be saved from retribution.”
Tightening his face, Anders nodded.
“I can see that happening. I just didn’t want to have his blood on my hands, or force others to do it for me. I’ve killed so much... I fear that it’s made me wrong, inside. That... I know that everyone here has to be thinking that I’m putting forth a show, trying to gain the throne here. I go out and heal, or give coin away freely, and it seems the sort of thing that a person grasping for power might do in this system. Only, it isn’t that...” Sighing, he struggled to breathe, gasping, almost as if crying. Only no moisture hit his cheeks. “I’m just trying to make up for what I’ve done. For those who aren’t alive now, because of me. It... I don’t live in pain from it. Inside, I don’t care at all. A part of me understands how wrong that is. I didn’t want to say it to the Sula, but I can’t be the leader here. Because I’m a monster.”
That got a soft snort.
“Ah, Andros... nephew... The only real difference here is that you and I know we are hard men. Naveed... He’s a good enough sort, but he craves power, truly. We all do, in the top ten. Even little Aisla would take control here, if she could climb the ranks. You, Sendra, myself, Docca... We are those who are, as you mentioned, monsters. We have all stood in battle and ended lives. Often without thinking about it too hard. Lassa is probably one such as we. I... Agree. You are wrong for the title of Sula. So am I. Sendra would have us at war constantly. Doccian... He’s hard, but could do it, if it came to be needed. Naveed is the best choice, for the time being, of course. If you aren’t put forward to make everyone else here work harder. I know that I have been, since meeting you. That... It’s annoying, being in the presence of a person who just keeps doing the right thing, without asking for anything in return, you know that, don’t you?”
It was probably the longest speech he’d ever heard the man make. So he simply nodded at the end.
“I’m sure everyone else feels the same about you and Naveed.”
That got the larger man to stop and slap his thigh, laughing loudly. It was a booming thing that disturbed the entire world, or so it felt.
“Ha! I wager they do feel that way. Now, you’re putting forward Lissa? She’s young for it, but if she’s doing the work, we should help her along. Salina, as well? I’ve heard some things there, as hard as they are to credit.”
“Salina is doing well, actually. I’m not suggesting that we put the main Apprentice of the Great One forward. It’s a bit like the problem with Sendra or you. Only, with a bit more whining and fit throwing at times. Not that she’s been bad, lately. I’m still wary there.”
That, apparently, was funny, since the man laughed. Then waved to the side.
“I’m down this way. We should speak, in some days.” Then he clomped off, his hard soled boots making a sound that faded in the distance.
Finding himself free that night, Anders ate quickly, then mentioned to Tena that he was going to be practicing in the small theater, having permission for that. It gave him a full hour to practice, before the servants came, with nearly a hundred and fifty men, women and children coming in to help him prepare for the real show.
It was the same one he’d done on the ship, only in Barquean and with better music and also improved interactions, when people touched things. It was hard, but he’d worked out how to cause scents to release when the plants and objects were touched. Some of those were a bit off still, being a little too strong. For instance, if a rock was picked up, it resisted and felt real, if a bit light. It would smell like dirt. A thing that was a lot like a freshly plowed field. A real rock would be similar, but in a much lighter fashion.
Then, he was attempting to make the whole thing better than real, not just like they sat in a different place that was ordinary and boring. The whole thing took about forty minutes, and once again, he was left covered in sweat and gasping for breath at the end. He cleaned himself before the lights came back up, showing the theater around them, instead of the clearing and strange forest in the distance. The room suddenly seemed tiny, even if that wasn’t the real truth.
It just wasn’t outdoors.
There was silence for a moment. One that was long enough he wasn’t certain if they’d hated the thing or not. Just as he was about to ask what he needed to fix for them, the room erupted. There was actual screaming, pounding on tables and stomping. It went on for a while, as well. Nearly five minutes.
Finally, he waved at them, since their hands were going to start hurting, if they didn’t stop.
“Thank you. Now, if any of you have anything that you’d like to see, or that I should add, to make this better, please feel free to approach me at any time. That or send a note?”
One of the men, a fellow he’d never seen before, waved at him.
“Are you doing a show in the city again?”
He nodded.
“Yes, though not like this. The magics for that would kill me. Something better than the last one, though?”
“Ah, excellent. We can put the word around? When are you free for that?”
“Oh... Call it a week?” That would give him some time to plan, at least. He had his healing to see to, in the mornings, and eventually wanted to actually see some of his friends. They were there so that Eltha could pick who she wanted to marry, and that could, he didn’t doubt, take a while. If nothing else, she needed to make certain that it seemed like she was testing things carefully and not just tossing a good candidate for such things aside.
Not that Anders had spoken to her, or anyone, on such a topic. Indeed, he hadn’t seen hardly anyone, for the last days, other than Lassa, the public and the guards who went with him each morning. That was, he feared, the price of being busy.
After returning to his room, he was able to plan some things out, do his bow work and go over fighting techniques, if from memory and on his own. A real practice would have been nice, but he doubted he had time for that, for a while. Instead, he worked on other, less martial things. Illusions, mainly.
Trying to work out how to make water feel wet, for instance. He had a version of that, but needed at least four or five. Also a way to make the air feel thick and moist. Fog as well. There was a lot to see to, so he spent the time before he slept on that. Knowing it was, for the time being, his prime occupation.
Well, that and attempting to reform Lassa.
That part of things, his feelings there, had been well buried. Part of him hated the other boy. Not for trying to kill him, either. He was just annoying. True, Nedros felt that way about him, but Anders thought that one was due to him not seeming right for the world he stood in. He was supposed to be a pampered and spoiled prince. At the very least a mere boy, who, even if he tried hard, couldn’t be that accomplished in almost anything.
Except that he wasn’t that at all. He was a boy, true, but also an old man. One who had lived in discipline for nearly a hundred years, before he’d died. Only, of course, even though he still recalled it that way, Farad Ibn Istel had lived and gone on to become a very different person than Anders ever would be.
Still, he wasn’t just some child who had shown up and needed to be guided by his uncle. He was a man, in many ways. One who expected himself to be that, even if no one else around him truly did. So he worked, and did what was needed to succeed in his tasks. Even if he hadn’t chosen them. Which, if Lassa was what the man had expected to meet, had to seem incredibly off or wrong.
“Hence, annoying.”
Getting to work, he focused on illusion for the time being. Both on the coming show he had planned, and the larger thing for the people of the city. To do that one right, he was going to need some preparation, he realized.
The raw size, and projecting the sounds correctly for the people at the back, without deafening those near the front, would be difficult to come up with. It meant he needed to walk that area of the event first, if he could ever make the time for it.
Still, as he drifted off to sleep, he felt fairly content, that night. Oh, he wasn’t ready for everything in the world, but he had a good enough start, really. It meant he was well rested, when he pulled himself from under the covers, a single thin sheet, at first light.
Almost directly as he did, there was a tapping at his door.
He hurried to open, it, to find Depak Sona standing there, arrayed in slightly shining clothing, with complicated and new seeming patterns.
“Ah, Anders! I’ve been missing you for some days. You’re heading into the city for healing work?”
“Shortly. Is there something I can help you with, first?” He grinned. “Room cleaning, say? I have a nice Prince Lassa I can recommend to that task. At least he should be able to do that using magic now. For practice?”
The older man made a hard face, but nodded.
“Probably not that. Lissa is pleased with his progress, which is surprising. No, it’s merely that everyone wants to make certain you’re doing well? This has... Not been the best of trips, so far.”
That was true, but Anders knew that doing anything except focusing on improving things was wasted time.
“I’m fine, really. Busy, but that’s just me, you know?”
The other man nodded, seeming honestly pleased by the words.
“Oh, I truly do, Anders. I truly do know that one.”
Chapter ten
A week later, Anders having performed all of the illusion events that he intended to for the time being, he walked through the early morning streets of the city feeling fairly decent. It was a bit strange, since along with his two guards he had Princess Lissa, Princess Salina and Prince Erold, which meant several more of the stern seeming guards traveled along as well, but it was good to finally have people to talk to again.
Lissa didn’t wait to explain.
“Lassa asked for the morning off, to see to some things. He’s learned a lot of magic in the last two weeks, so it seemed fair. I pressed him, so...” She clearly felt a bit off about that. “He’s held to twenty new magical signals or phrases each day, the whole time. That’s a lot.”
Anders could see that, really. He’d done more, but even then, he’d taken days off to do other things on occasion, as well.
Salina cleared her throat.
“I haven’t been making Liasa work that hard. Ten a day, so it’s real work, but we’re generally done before the mid-day meal. Should I press her harder, do you think, Anders?”
He actually considered it for a moment, then shook his head.
“Honestly, no. Lassa is doing something very different than she is. If it takes her a few months to get up to speed, then no harm done. Truly, you probably don’t need to push Lassa that hard either. We just need to find other things for him to be doing. I heard that all of you will be going off to see General Sendra soon? With instructions to learn every military task on the base, as well as improve structures and so forth? That sounds... Well, perhaps not fun, but like good experience.” Which was the real point. “Is Depak Sona traveling that way as well? I’d be going, except that I’m requested to go to Modroc. For some reason. One that I can’t really explain, so far.”
Salina nodded in his general direction.
“Well, the second part is easy enough to answer. They want to get you to move there. That or to agree to allow students from Modroc into your grand academy. They don’t have our style of magic there, really, but they aren’t afraid of it, either, from what I can tell. It’s the sensible thing to do. Plus, Princess Sweyn requested you come. That...” She smirked then, but didn’t go on.
Thankfully.
Lissa cleared her throat, like an ancient being who was tired of listening to the children prattle on about nonsense.
“Depak Sona is going with us, I believe? Mainly to get away from here. It... Being in Lo’usa Tet isn’t that grand for him, really. Even as Princesses, we can simply walk into the city and no one will bother us. Not past watching where we go. He’s positively thronged, almost constantly.”
They’d all seen that, so simply moved along, in the early morning light. When they got to his tiny, three level, healing shop, Salina smiled.
“Not horrible work. A bit lacking on the artistry, isn’t it? Did you put water in?”
He had. It was just a cistern on the top of the building, which he’d filled with magic. He waved to show all of that off, after they got inside. It really was a bit plain. Then, he wasn’t planning to be there for years or anything like that, so it made some sense not to waste a lot of time or effort on the appearance of things.
The real interesting portion of the day was that, instead of going off to shop, even for their upcoming trip, everyone there worked on healing, taking turns, and consulting with each other, when it was needed. Erold did a lot of the work himself, meaning Lissa got bored, and started to use magic to create some simple, but attractive, patterns on the walls, on the inside. They were mainly squares inside rectangles, but actually grew out of the wall, seeming smooth and perfect, as if carved by a master, in stone. Then, with some help from Salina, they made the things change color, finally picking a blue, green and white motif for the place.
“That should be calming.” Anders looked at everyone, then realized he was going to need more cups and plates. Food, as well. “Who’s going to get the food? I have some coin for that.”
Salina, seeming much put upon, as if Anders had been asking her to do the work, personally, made a pained noise.
“Fine. I’ll go out into the heat and find something. When I’m followed around, by all the adoring subjects, it will be your doing though, Anders. We could just send one of these others to do it, couldn’t we?”
Anders forced a smile. Not because Salina wasn’t jesting. She was and her tone and face told everyone of that, very clearly. No, it was because he was too used to having to hear such things from Lassa, who actually meant them.
“You want to deprive people of glimpsing your beauty? That’s a bit low of you, Princess Salina. No, you do that, while Prince Erold and Princess Lissa see to the healing and I’ll make more cups and plates for us to eat off of?”
She chuckled, but accepted the small sack of coins that Anders had with him, easily enough. She took the whole thing, but then, if she bought some things they didn’t need, it wasn’t the end of all that existed. He could still afford to do things like that and rarely had been.
Lissa on the other hand, as well as Salina, had both been spending their coin on helping others. They weren’t even putting the word out about it. Anders had to learn of it from Prince Naveed, who had it from Sulana Meegan. She’d only learned of it when Salina had told her about how kind Lissa was being. It was bragging, after a fashion, but wasn’t hiring singers to walk behind her calling out praises as she walked.
Salina winked at him.
“That is true, isn’t it? I should give them a chance to see me. Now, I shouldn’t be gone too long. Half an hour or so?” She simply started to leave, meaning that two of the guards, both in tan, though it wasn’t matching at all, followed her, without asking if they should.
Mikail the guard nodded as Anders watched them leave.
“This is a safe enough place. We simply don’t want trouble.”
It hadn’t been a question in his own mind, but he could see that as being valid. It bothered him a bit that guards followed him, but the others there didn’t really seem to notice it as being strange. Not even Prince Erold.
Anders did his own hopping up, to go and do that magic, outside. Mikail followed him, but alone, into the heat of the day. That was getting almost oppressive, even if it was early in the year. Not even true summer yet.
In the distance there was music playing. It was happy sounding, but unusual, as far
as Anders had noticed. The market didn’t have entertainments, really. Not that had come near where he was set up. As he worked, several of the local vendors came over, seeming a bit diffident, for some reason.
One of them, an older woman, who Anders had helped with joint troubles about five days before, moved inside and ducked her head.
“Cart Boy Sona? It’s Volentide... We were wondering if you’d stay and join the celebration, later? It’s just marking the coming of summer. There will be music and dancing. Fruit and sweets to eat. If you’d enjoy such a thing, I mean?” She seemed to think that wasn’t going to happen.
Mikail frowned and looked ready to harm people if they didn’t leave, as well. The men in back seemed to take it that way and started to do just that, when Anders spoke.
“I don’t know that one. Volentide? Is there something I should do, to be festive? Special clothing or... Perhaps a small show of some sort? Nothing big. Some illusions? Music?” He glanced at everyone, including Mikail, who cleared his throat.
“That should be fine, Prince Anders. Perhaps some more brilliant clothing?”
Everyone stood there, seeming shocked, for a moment. Even if he was pretty certain that they understood who the straw headed healer actually was. That meant they thought Mikail was being rude, calling him a prince. It was a cute idea, if not the truth.
The man was, clearly, trying to remind him of what was appropriate. A thing that he didn’t truly know, not being from there. Or even a real Prince of Istlan.
So he clapped a few times, slowly.
“A small show, just for those of you here, on the street? Call me Cart Boy, though, so I don’t accidently embarrass the Sula? We should... Well, we probably can’t stay long. After the meal?”
Everyone agreed with that, more or less, and walked away, not bothering with bows at all. He finished making the plates and then did an extra twenty sturdy cups, which ended up seeming to be made of fired clay, being formed of dirt as they were. He made them all white, with a nice blue and green flowing pattern to them, so that they matched the building. The inside, at least.