Mageborn 05 The Final Redemption

by Michael G. Manning

  A few minutes later, Sir Harold found her in the sitting room. As its name suggested the room was adorned with a variety of comfortable items of furniture, primarily chairs, though it also boasted a divan and an exquisitely carved table that created a focus for the area. That was where the tea would generally be served.

  The lady of the house sat on a rather stiff chair to one side, her back straight except for the natural curve of her spine. Her features and dark hair only served to make the black fabric of her dress more attractive. She rose from her seat to greet Sir Harold, “I see you felt the need to make your case in person.” It was less of a greeting than a challenge.

  Harold took her proffered hand and bent over it, not quite touching the back of it with his lips. Actually kissing it would have been an affront, given the difference in their relative statures. He held the position for longer than necessary, to show extra reverence to his mentor’s widow. “Thank you for seeing me, Lady Hightower,” he began, “I felt the need to express myself in person.”

  As soon as he released her hand she motioned to a chair across the room, indicating he should sit, and then she resumed her own seat. “Please, there’s no need to use my formal title. Lady Rose will do,” she suggested. She would have preferred Lady Thornbear, but that title still resided more properly with her mother-in-law, Elise. To avoid confusion, she used her first name in less formal settings.

  “You do me too much honor, Lady Rose,” said Harold. The situation made him uncomfortable. He had been raised on a farm, and courtly etiquette was something that he had learned under Dorian Thornbear’s tutelage after being chosen to train for knighthood. Given his background, it was doubtful he would ever be comfortable in such circumstances. Lady Rose had assisted with his education back then, but now she seemed far colder to him.

  Rose turned away, looking out the window, “Not too much honor for an old friend of my husband’s, Sir Harold.”

  “You realize why I am here, of course, Lady Rose?” asked Harold tentatively.

  She nodded, “Yes I do, and I am afraid that you have wasted your time, Sir Harold.”

  “Please, just Harold will do, Lady Rose,” he responded, “You helped train me, after all.”

  “You were an excellent student, Harold, but I will not give you the sword,” she told him. She was referring to the broken remains of ‘Thorn,’ the great sword Dorian had once borne.

  “The Queen intends to honor him with the founding of a new order of knights, to be named the Order of the Thorn. The name is meant to honor his name, and that sword would be placed in our chapterhouse, as a sort of relic, serving as an example to future generations,” said Harold fervently.

  “Sir Egan said as much in his letter,” said Rose. “There is no need to remind me.”

  “I don’t understand your reluctance, Lady Rose,” replied Harold. “Don’t you want us to honor him?”

  “You choose your words poorly, Harold. It is not ‘reluctance’. The appropriate term would be ‘refusal,’” she told him. “Do you know the story behind the sword’s name?”

  “No, Lady Rose,” said Harold promptly. “He never shared its reason with me, but we always assumed that it represented the sharper portion of his name.”

  “Exactly,” said Rose with steel in her voice, “you assumed, and incorrectly at that. It was the last part of the sword’s name that he used, but the full name was ‘Rose’s Thorn’. It was a name with special meaning between the two of us. It was not for you or anyone else to revere, it was symbolic of the bond between my husband and me.”

  “But, Lady Rose…”

  “Would you like to put my wedding ring in your chapterhouse, Sir Harold?! Would that be sufficient to please you? For it would be almost the same thing to me. Do you understand now?” she struck out at him with the words, viciously, as if she would share her pain by wounding him.

  Harold stood for a moment before falling to his knees, “Forgive me, Lady Rose, in my ignorance I have offended you. It was not my intention to do so. I understand my error now.”

  She took pity on him then, “Rise Harold, don’t cast your eyes downward so. I was too harsh.”

  He took his feet then, but kept his head bowed, “It was wrong of me to come.”

  “No,” she said, “I have given some thought to your request, and while you may not have Thorn, there is something else you may have.” She gestured to the wall, where a long sword was hanging on display.

  Harold looked at her questioningly.

  “It was his father’s sword, Gram Thornbear’s. Dorian took it up after his father died. It was the first sword Mordecai enchanted for him. He used it proudly until he switched to the great sword and stopped using a shield,” she explained.

  “But…,” Harold almost stammered, “… shouldn’t that go to his son, to Gram?”

  “Gram will never bear arms,” said Rose with defiant resolve. “It was Dorian’s last wish.”

  Harold stared at her, aghast, unsure what to say.

  “Take it and go, Sir Harold,” she said then. “I tire easily these days. I will see you at the memorial.” Without another word she turned her back and left the room.

  Harold stared after her. His son won’t be allowed to train? Sadly, he took the sword down and made his way out.

  ***

  The memorial took place on the one year anniversary of King James Lancaster’s death. The King and Queen’s funerals had been taken care of not long after the problems created by Tremont and Mal’goroth had been settled. Dorian’s had been held in Cameron, and similarly, had been far too brief. The event today was meant to commemorate both the past monarchs and the heroes who had died preserving Lothion.

  Traditionally, such an occasion would be handled by one of the heads of the four churches, but that was no longer an option, and rather than allow some other official to handle the event, Ariadne took the initiative. While it was customary for the monarch to make some sort of address during such ceremonies, it was unusual for one to personally oversee the entire thing.

  The Queen’s speech was heartfelt. She spoke at length about her parents and then began detailing the efforts of all those who died supporting her during Duke Tremont’s attempted coup, naming each of them. She then spent an exceptional amount of time on the man she at one point called, ‘the greatest hero of Lothion’. She held the attention of the crowd and ended on a high note, announcing the formation of the Order of the Thorn in Dorian’s honor.

  Several others took the podium after her, including Elise Thornbear, Sir Harold, and Sir Egan, each in turn. Lady Rose was invited, but as Dorian’s widow, it wasn’t necessarily expected that she would be willing to put herself before the crowd.

  I had not been invited to speak. Peter had warned me privately about it already. The prevailing opinion was that having the ‘Blood Lord’ speak might tarnish the occasion or otherwise taint Dorian Thornbear’s memory.

  I wish I could say that that didn’t bother me, but it did. It burned. Dorian and Marcus had been my two closest friends, and while I had never had the opportunity to speak on Marc’s behalf, to be deliberately denied the chance to speak for Dorian…

  I had swallowed my pride, though. In one of the pouches at my belt, I held the product of my labors over the past half a year. It was intended to be a gift to the Queen, and today had seemed the best time for it, but now I would have to wait and present it to her in private.

  “Can’t have me ruining the day,” I murmured softly.

  Penny picked up my words and squeezed my hand in a gesture of support, her black gloved fingers entwined with my own. I had forgotten how sharp her hearing was. I let my eyes linger on her for a moment, enjoying the sight of her in her rebellious black and red leathers. We had dressed ourselves in the same clothes we had worn for my court case. It was better than disappointing the crowd.

  Surprisingly, Rose walked forward when her time came, taking her place behind the podium. Her dress was a widow’s black, for she still had a shor
t time before her year’s mourning would be over.

  “I am here today, to speak on behalf of my father, Duncan Hightower, and my husband, Dorian Thornbear,” said Rose solemnly. She gave a short eulogy for the two men who had been so important to her, but as she neared the end her voice choked while she tried to explain what Dorian had meant to her. Ariadne approached her sympathetically, hoping to help her retire from the podium gracefully, but Rose waved her away.

  Clearing her throat she raised her head once more. Even the veil she wore couldn’t hide her red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “I can’t finish, but there is one man here who loved my husband as much as I did,” said Rose huskily. Looking to the Queen, she lowered her eyes, “If you will allow it, Your Majesty, I would ask Mordecai Illeniel, the Count di’ Cameron to finish for Dorian. I believe he would have wanted that.”

  A hush fell over the audience and then murmurs broke out, softly, as people wondered how the Queen would respond. Many of their eyes turned to gaze at me, and just as many watched Ariadne, waiting for her reply. I knew how she would answer though, she had been cornered.

  With perfect poise, Ariadne took Rose’s hand and put one arm around her shoulder. “I’m certain that will be fine, Lady Hightower.” Leading Rose gently away, she caught me with her eyes, “Lord Cameron, if you would be so kind.” Her voice was just loud enough to reach me.

  Glancing at my wife, I moved forward to the podium, thinking to go alone. Penny stayed beside me however, close, almost protectively. Whether it was a gesture of support in the face of so many unfriendly faces, or whether she felt I might actually need physical protection I wasn’t certain. She had braided her hair again, including the metal cords and silver end caps, so I knew she wasn’t unarmed in the strictest sense.

  I didn’t really need protecting, but I felt stronger with her nearby. Looking at the assembled noblemen, and the crowd of citizens beyond them, I saw a few friends, and many more who wore openly hostile expressions. It was clear that I was no longer welcome in Albamarl.

  “I know that many of you may feel I am unworthy to speak for Dorian Thornbear, but I will speak anyway, for he was my closest friend. I trust you will not hold our association against him, or against James and Genevieve Lancaster, who were also close to me. Others have spoken for them, so I would like to offer you my opinions on Dorian alone.”

  “Dorian taught me the meaning of loyalty, and the meaning of trust. Many will remember him for his martial prowess, and it is true, he was without peer on the field of battle, but his skill with a sword was the least of Dorian’s attributes. He was a man of honor, but it did not define him as much as his willingness to sacrifice for the sake of others. He never shirked his duty, but it was his kindness that marked him as a great man,” I paused to let my words sink in.

  “But he was not perfect,” I continued. “His honesty was so ingrained that it was not only a virtue, but a source of occasional awkwardness. The man was simply incapable of lying, even for something as small as a fib for the sake of social graces. I, and our mutual friend, Marcus Lancaster, spent many a day in our youth trying to correct this ‘flaw’, but he never had the knack for it.”

  “In the end, we accepted him as he was, and over time we learned to respect our friend for his inner strength. He walked a hard road, but he never complained. In the end, he did the same as his father did; he gave everything he had to protect his friends and family. He gave until there was nothing left. He gave until he died.” My vision had blurred, but my voice stayed strong.

  “I cry today for the loss of many, but most of all, I cry for the loss of my friend. I tell myself that we have not truly lost him, for what he gave us is still here, in our hearts. I see his love in the faces of his wife and children, I see his strength and honor in the soldiers and knights whom he trained. I see his kindness in the fact that my own wife and children are still here with me, for they would have died without him.” I could no longer see the crowd before me, but my magesight told me that there were few dry faces now.

  “I can think of no better description than the words James Lancaster used when he spoke of the loss of his lifelong friend, Gram Thornbear, Dorian’s father. When he told of Gram’s death, he said that it stood out not as an exception, but instead as a final example of how he lived his entire life. Our late-king was a wise man, and he stood as a role model for both of us, and in this his words still ring true. Dorian, just as his father before him, gave his life in the defense of others, but it wasn’t an exceptional moment for him, merely the last moment of an exceptional life. His entire life was spent thus, ready to give everything for those who needed him. My greatest regret is that it was my absence that created the need, the need that required he give everything to save not just his own family, but mine as well.”

  “But it was not Dorian’s regret, for him it was the fulfillment of a life lived for others. That is my only consolation, and the only light by which I may someday be able to forgive myself. For now, I can only begin by offering this gift, to the Queen of Lothion, for the protection of both the crown and the people of the nation that Dorian Thornbear loved.” As I finished I reached into the pouch at my waist and drew out a massive egg-shaped stone.

  The stone was midnight blue, so deep that it almost appeared black, except under the brightest sunlight. It weighed almost ten pounds and approached the size of a grown man’s head. In my magesight, it thrummed with latent power, waiting for the hand of the one who would unlock its potential, for the one I had chosen.

  Ariadne looked at me in surprise, and though she hid it well, a small amount of fear. She stepped forward gracefully, and responded without hesitation, “Your gift is unusual, Lord Cameron, but we will receive it with gratitude on behalf of the people of Lothion.” She motioned toward one of the footmen, indicating he should come forward to take the stone for her.

  I whispered softly, making sure she could hear me, “I know this is a shock, but you have to trust me. Only you can accept this gift. It cannot be handled by any other than yourself.”

  The Queen moved closer to me and answered in kind, “Are you insane? You can’t spring a surprise like this in the middle of an official ceremony. You should have warned me.”

  “Trust me,” I repeated softly. “Put your hand upon the egg, and state your acceptance on behalf of the line of Lancaster.” I wanted to say more but there was not enough time with the eyes of the crowd upon us. I had planned to wait, to give her the stone in private, since I hadn’t expected to have a chance at a public gifting. Bringing it out at the end of my speech had been a spontaneous impulse. “Marcus would counsel you to accept it,” I added.

  Ariadne blinked and looked straight at me. For a moment the past fell away, and we were kids again. I smiled at her, and blinking she reached out, trusting her big brother’s closest friend not to betray her. Placing her hand on the hard surface, she spoke out loudly, “On behalf of the House of Lancaster, I accept your gift.”

  A sound rang out as her hand touched it, bright and shining, as if a silver bell had been struck. Ariadne stiffened in shock as the power touched her inner source, linking itself to her life. A ghostly image appeared around her in the air, the form of a dragon, but it shrank inward around her and vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. “Carwyn,” said Ariadne suddenly, “his name is Carwyn.”

  “The dragon will hatch in ten days,” I told her. “He will serve you for the rest of your life, and when your days are done he will die as well, but not forever. Like the legend of the phoenix, this dragon will return to the egg, awaiting the touch of your successor to be born again as a new being. Care well for him.”

  Ariadne took the egg with both hands, swaying as she stepped back. Two of her footmen rushed forward to steady her, but I noticed she kept the dragon egg close to her body. The bond had already taken hold, and she was loathe to let anyone else touch it. Her eyes flashed to me, “What’s wrong with me? Everything seems different.” There was a faint note of panic in her voice.
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  “Don’t worry,” I told her, “The bond with Carwyn is affecting your body and senses in a fashion similar to the earth bond that the Knights of Stone possessed. Unlike that bond, however, this one has none of the same drawbacks. You’ll get used to it in a few days.” I turned away then, an unforgivable breach of etiquette when dealing with royalty, but I wasn’t particularly worried about rules these days.

  “Wait,” she commanded. “I don’t know anything about caring for a dragon. I thought they didn’t exist, aside from Gareth.”

  “They do now,” I told her. “Carwyn’s needs should be small, and you’ll know if he lacks anything.” I tapped my head to indicate the dragon’s ability to speak directly to her mind. I kept walking with Penny close beside me. We went through the nobles and headed into the crowd. The people drew back as we passed, fearful of my nearness.

  I suspect the Queen may have considered ordering me back, but she must have thought the better of it. No one attempted to stop our exit, and we proceeded to stroll casually back to our city home.

  “That was a rather impromptu way to give such an important gift,” observed Penny as we ambled along the street.

  I smiled. “I meant to give it to her in private, since they didn’t intend to let me speak, but when Rose called for me, I just gave in to impulse.”

  “You didn’t tell her much about it.”

  “The dragon will tell her what she needs to know. I’ll send a letter in a few days. I just couldn’t stay any longer. The crowd…,” I left my sentence unfinished.

  “It still bothers you, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  I nodded, uncomfortable even discussing it. My back tingled with the memory of my lashing, but it was the shame of it that really made me uncomfortable.

  “You’ve given them more than they deserve,” Penny said angrily. “They owe you, not the other way around.”

  I loved her for that. Penny would stand by me to the end of the world, but I still didn’t agree. I knew I was far from blameless. I squeezed her hand but stayed silent rather than argue about it.