by P. S. Power
Anders nodded.
“It happened again, recently. One of the Princesses of Barquea and a Prince, probably mind controlled, both died in that way. Hundreds of others were injured as well. Many of them were people from here, it seems. Your people. This man... Was it... I’m going to make some illusions. They are only seemings, if that works for you?”
She nodded, subdued. Seeming a little bit annoyed, suddenly.
“Do it, if it will serve at all. Use your evil magics.”
He didn’t think it was evil at all, but produced, with a bit of concentration, an image of Hoatha first. Holding his breath as the woman looked at the image.
She blinked, but shook her head.
“It’s as if this boy is standing here, with us! Amazing, but that isn’t anyone I’ve ever met or seen.”
Even if she wasn’t a man, he showed Martya next, then Farad Ibn Istel. The woman gasped at that one, but only reached out to touch the image.
“The Founder! I met him, oh, hundreds of years ago. I was but a girl, back then. Forgive me, but this isn’t the man of pain. How could he be? He’s The Founder.”
Anders could see that, but explained anyway.
“A friend of mine, put in only as a test. Now, I’m going to have to go through a lot of people, I fear.”
Every ruler, every heir, every prince he could think of. Every man of Ferlith he recalled, as well as every man of Modroc who had travelled with them on their journey there. The men and woman in the cave, most of who were standing off to the sides, the hole in the ceiling allowing the light of day in, if dimly, gasped as one when he finally got to the correct person.
Which took Anders by surprise.
Sarath pointed.
“Him! That is the one. The bringer of pain!”
Eltha sucked in a breath so deep it had to injure her.
“Kaidan Sett is the one who gave you those weapons? Fifty years ago? That... I’ve known him for years. He’s harmless. A talented actor and musician, a showman, but not...”
Taking a deep breath, the pillow suddenly uncomfortable underneath him, Anders closed his eyes.
“I see. A man who has lived a very long time, but is secret in his magic. We need to find out more about this, but I think we have what we’ve come for here. Thank you, all of you. Please, in the future, if you feel you must kill, send a note to me first? We might find a way around such things, if we work together.” They might not, as well, he knew.
The Blades were all smiles and kind words as they left, but several of them seemed to glare at them, their fingers and hands twitching, as if practicing the strikes that would lay him and the others low, in their minds. Their old ways had developed for a reason, of course. He could only pray that their Goddess would guide them to a better path, in the future.
That or kill them all. He nearly did it, turning on them then and there. Only the fact that he didn’t want to fight their god prevented that from happening. That, and the fact that Anders had given his word to save them, if at all possible. So, riding at the front of five hundred men, he and his friends left.
It was hours later that he nodded, having been thinking about what to do.
“I need to contact some people and go back to Barquea, as quickly as I may. There is a darkness in their midst. A serpent, coiled to strike at their very heart, it seems. At the same time, we need to figure out what Kaidan Sett is up to and what that has to do with us. Also, we need to learn what Clarisse has to do with that. He’s her husband, after all. Was her going to Istlan to his bidding or plan? Would she know it, if it had been? There is much to learn there. I can’t do both things at once.”
He tried to work that part of things out and kept coming up empty.
It was Alder who produced the real plan for them, then.
“I’ll go back to Billeth, with Prince Erold. We’ll find out what this man knows, and deal with him, if possible. You go to Barquea and protect your family there. It is treacherous, one striking at their own, in such a way, but that kind of thing happens in all lands. Eltha... You should travel back with Anders. You’re to marry there, so you have a stake in how this turns out. It’s dangerous, all the way around, of course.”
Jonpries laughed then.
“So it is! You have friends though, to aid you, both of your kind and mine. You won many over to your cause, teaching instead of killing, as you did. Saving, instead of destroying. Let us see if that can be done again?”
Anders sighed at the red cloud of energy.
“I doubt that whoever is behind it will live, hidden away at the palace. We must free their minds, if at all possible, those affected by this dark magic and then... Well, I imagine that the Sula will have to remove whoever did it.”
There was a pause then, and Alder spoke, his voice comforting and familiar.
“Indeed. We all know that. It isn’t a war though, or won’t be if you manage this well. We understand that pain and suffering will come. Only, let us have the least amount? That is all anyone can ask.”
He agreed with that, but didn’t speak. Instead, when the road broke, some fifty miles ahead, he and Eltha headed to the west, as the others rode back toward Billeth, to see what might be done about Kaidan Sett.
Anders could only hope that it wasn’t the wrong thing to do.
Even though, on a deep level, he couldn’t help but feel that it probably was.
Afterword
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P.S. Power