Silence followed, as the crowd sat riveted. There were no cheers, no polite applause, no expressions of disapproval or acclamation, no rustling, no creaking, no whispering. Tvrdik’s heart sank in those moments, as he sat wondering if he had failed in a colossal way. He had frightened or confused them, overwhelmed them with too much information. Perhaps they could not find it in themselves to believe such an outrageous tale, or to embrace such a patently dangerous and untried path. For endless seconds he held his breath, while there was no reaction from the crowd. Then, tentatively, a lone voice began to chant in rhythm, “Le-gions-of-Light! Le-gions-of-Light!” Two or three more added their voices, then twenty, then whole sections took up the phrase. And then, like a gigantic wave cresting before the shore, the whole field was chanting, in unison, stomping on the wooden grandstands, carried away in the deafening din, “Le-gions-of-Light! Le-gions-of-Light!” From behind him came the trumpet-calls of four dragons bellowing their excitement. There were whinnies and the sound of pawing hooves, barks, caws, mewling, and all manner of barely controlled chaos.
Opening his eyes and breathing at last, Tvrdik looked around to see the entire arena fiercely united in purpose, Delphine and Jorelial Rey smiling at him with ecstatic pride, and little King Darian staring at him with wide eyes. The Lady Regent took his free hand and rose from her seat, lifting him up alongside her by sheer will. She led him back to the front of the dais, as the chanting intensified, and then, on impulse, she punched her fist high in the air in a gesture of triumph and solidarity. Taking the cue, Tvrdik raised his staff as if it were light as straw, and held it horizontally over his head, the weapon of the future. The crowd broke into spontaneous cheers at seeing the Lady Regent and the Court Wizard bound together in determination and courage. Still shouting and cheering, they all began pouring from the seats to line up at the four tables, ready to sign on as legionnaires. As the noise died down and individuals and families began to talk among themselves, Tvrdik and Rel looked at the long lines of eager, excited warriors snaking all around the field. All four of their recruiters were struggling to record names as quickly as their pens could move. They looked back at each other, and without a word, fell into a joyous, spontaneous embrace.
“We did it!” Rel shouted over the din, “Look at this. The Legions of Light is a reality. I can hardly believe it.” She pulled back and regarded him sidewise for an instant, “You didn’t, um, cheat, did you?”
“Cheat?” he bellowed back, “what do you mean?”
“You know, like, put a spell on everyone here, or something…?”
Tvrdik grinned broadly, “My dear Lady Regent, there hasn’t been a wizard since the dawn of time who could have used magic to do…this!” He indicated the field with a gesture of incredulity.
“Why, then, you’ve done it with your sheer charm and eloquence, sir.”
He laughed, “We did it, Jorelial Rey, just as we dreamed.” His face fell a little, “But will it be enough? Now the real work will begin…”
“You’re up to it, Tvrdik. I saw what you did up there, what you have in mind. It’s brilliant.”
“It’s only a beginning, Jorelial Rey. Only a beginning.”
She smiled at him and squeezed his hand harder, “Ah, but such a beginning!”
Their attention was drawn to one side, where the entire herd of unicorns had trotted over to the dragons, and were enjoying a spirited conversation. Ondine and the naiads, nearby, were splashing about with great animation, adding their two cents worth.
“Now there’s a sight you don’t see every day.” Tvrdik remarked, his crooked smile lighting up his pale face. Something caught his eye, then – a movement more deliberate than the milling crowds, and before he could grasp what he was seeing, a running figure approached the dais, and leapt up onto the platform, directly in front of the Lady Regent. Startled, she stepped back, while the wizard instinctively stepped in front of her, shielding her from potential danger. She shot him an aggravated look. “What?” he said, and, shaking his head, stepped aside. The runner had approached unnoticed amidst all the activity on the field, but on closer inspection, they recognized him as a page from Theriole, now bent over double and very out of breath.
“My-my-La-dy…” he gasped, “I-am-sent to-to find you. General-General Boone…” he was gradually regaining his wind. Jorelial Rey came in close to him. Delphine was right behind her, the infant king still clinging to her hand, and Tvrdik beside them, poised for action if the need arose. The Lady Regent reached for the panting page’s shoulder, “What, lad? What is it?”
The young man looked up at her, eyebrows drawn together, “Ships, ma’am. Ships. Three of them sighted coming toward the harbor.”
“How long ago?”
“I set out to find you as soon as we spotted them. General Boone’s orders, Ma’am.”
“Good work, lad. Here is a little something for your effort. Go and sit down over there a moment and catch your breath.” Jorelial Rey turned to her sister and Tvrdik, “Gods, how could this happen now, just in our moment of triumph? It’s too soon. We aren’t ready.”
Tvrdik put his hand on her shoulder, “Stay calm, Jorelial Rey. We don’t know what this is yet, and if it is what we fear, we will make ourselves ready.”
“I need to find out, but there’s no sense disrupting the good that is going on here. There will be time to sound the alarm once I know for sure what we are dealing with. Delphine, can you take Darian back to the palace as quickly as possible?”
“Of course, Rel. Come on, sweet boy…how would you like a lovely piece of raisin cake?” And she hustled him off toward the palace, the little boy, newt gently cradled in one hand, still staring with fascination at Tvrdik over her shoulder. Jorelial Rey snapped into action.
“Tvrdik, you’re with me. Page, follow when you can. We might have need of your services again.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He bowed his head to her, but she was already running toward Theriole, betting that with all the activity on the field, nobody would notice their precipitous departure.
Tvrdik, trying to run while carrying his seven foot oaken staff, was hard pressed to keep up with her, several paces behind all the way. Luckily, the distance to the palace was not great, and they were crossing the courtyard before the main entrance in mere minutes. Jorelial Rey took the great marble stairs by twos, while Tvrdik, desperate for air, hobbled up one at a time. But at the top of the stairs, General Boone himself pushed open the massive wooden doors and met them with news.
“Slow down. It’s alright, my lady, sir mage,” he nodded a quick acknowledgement. “They are not Drogue’s ships. It is not the enemy. There are three ships clearly flying the flag of Euligia. That nation is among our closest allies.”
“Euligia? I was not told to expect visitors from abroad. What could they want? Their timing could not be worse – we are not prepared to entertain dignitaries.”
Boone continued, “I am sorry to have alarmed you unnecessarily, but we weren’t sure until they got closer and raised their colors. The harbor master is mooring the vessels now. I suspect that whoever is in charge will want an immediate audience with you.”
“Alright, then. General Boone, please send word that I will see the delegation from Euligia in the Hall of Audience, as soon as they have disembarked. Will you please keep an eye on the sea wall for me, just in case? And thank you for your vigilance…you were absolutely correct to summon us immediately. Tvrdik, would you accompany me, please?” She swept off toward the Hall of Audience, leaving General Boone in mid-bow, and Tvrdik once again struggling to keep up with her punishing pace.
“Slow down, will you! We aren’t under attack, as far as we know, and their party couldn’t possibly be ashore yet….”
She dropped back a bit and adopted a more reasonable stride. “Sorry. I’m still in emergency mode, and in the habit of dashing everywhere. Better?”
“Yes, much
. Thank you,” Tvrdik responded, coming up alongside her. As the Hall of Audience came into view, he quipped, “Ah, sweet memories…”
“Don’t be funny. We still don’t know why they are here. It could be bad news.”
Wryly, he responded, “Yes, you never know who might turn up in the Hall of Audience…”
Jorelial Rey’s telltale eyebrow raised at that, and she made some indistinct noise deep in her throat, but pushed on. When they entered the room, Tvrdik laid his staff across the big table, and wearily folded his tall frame into one of the chairs. Jorelial Rey stepped up to the raised platform, and paced back and forth in her accustomed manner before the throne.
“Why are they here now? What could they want? Why just show up with no advance notice? Maybe they’ve joined forces with Lord Drogue. Do I even remember the name of Euligia’s king? It’s…it’s Polis – yes, that’s right. King Polis, and we have a robust trade with them. That’s as much as I know.”
“Jorelial Rey, relax. All will be made clear soon enough. Look on the bright side: you’re already dressed up for a state occasion – and may I say, in stunning fashion.”
“Tvrdik!”
“Just trying to help. Divert your thoughts a bit. You know…”
“Well, it isn’t working. Just be quiet, and be there, alright?”
He shrugged, somewhat amused. A loud creak drew their attention to the massive doors, where somehow, miraculously, Warlowe stood, calmly executing his accustomed duties. He must have noticed them leaving the gaming fields and followed them back to Theriole, sensing that his official services might be immediately required. Warlowe cleared his throat, and stood at attention, “The noble delegation from Euligia, our fair sister kingdom across the waters.”
Jorelial Rey stared at him meaningfully. It was an ambiguous introduction that gave her nothing to work with. But Warlowe shrugged almost imperceptibly, and rolled his eyes upward. Apparently, this was how the visitors directed he introduce them. The Lady Rey hastened to collect herself, smoothed her tunic, and patted down an unruly lock of hair. As ready as she could be, she then positioned herself before the throne, gesturing that their guests should enter. Warlowe stood aside, and in marched four armed youthful standard bearers. Close behind them entered a slim figure, dressed completely in armor. It was a very dark, steely blue, burnished to a high polish, with decoration suggesting a person of lineage – a Prince, perhaps, or a very high-born noble. The helmet obscured almost all of the visitor’s face, so it was hard to tell much of anything there. Perplexed and hedging, Jorelial Rey greeted the stranger formally, “Welcome, guests! Please do not let our lack of preparedness diminish in your eyes the estimation of our love for our dear Euligian friends. We had no forewarning of your arrival.”
“No, indeed. We did not take the time to announce our sudden voyage, nor do we take offense at our welcome. Likewise, we beg you, do not let this warlike garb tempt you to think we mean you harm. On the contrary, we come to you as to one of our closest friends, near and dear to our heart, Lady Jorelial Rey.”
The voice was rich and melodious, and sounded rather young. It spoke in a peculiar accent which sounded vaguely familiar. It gnawed at the corners of Jorelial’s memory, but she could not place it. She was also struck that the person seemed to recognize her.
“You know me then?”
“Very well, and know of your recent election as regent and ruler of this fair kingdom. A wise and happy choice, in my opinion. I also knew your father well, a kind and a very great man. Word of his untimely passing reached us, and my kingdom mourned deeply along with yours. News of the terrible sea accident which took your monarch and his bride also touched and troubled us deeply. We regret that we were unable to send an envoy with our support and condolences until now.”
Jorelial Rey cocked her head to the side, intrigued. Tvrdik had risen quietly from his chair, palmed his staff, and faded over to one side in shadow, also examining the visitor, searching for clues.
“I thank you sincerely for your kind expressions of sympathy, and for your apparent interest in the events of our realm…”
“I spent some time here in my youth, and have eagerly followed your progress since. It is a place for which I will always harbor a special fondness.”
That got Tvrdik’s attention, it being a line he had used himself on his own return to court. It tripped an alarm in his mind, as he wondered what the rest of the story was….
The Lady Regent went on, trying to hold on to whatever semblance of grace she could, despite her confusion. “I am afraid, good sir, that you have me at a disadvantage. Might I also know to whom I am speaking? You are safe here, and may at least remove your helmet without fear.”
“My apologies.” The figure reached up and removed the helmet, and a long, full, rippling cascade of strawberry-colored hair fell down below the visitor’s waist. The face it framed was handsome – light and freckled, with fine features, startling large green eyes, and the subtle lines of middle age. So, the mysterious Prince was a woman. Tvrdik took a step forward, adjusting his glasses. Jorelial Rey could not stifle an initial gasp of surprise, but recovered her composure, glanced at the mage, and motioned him out of the shadows.
“My apologies as well. I neglected to introduce you to Tvrdik, my most trusted advisor, and our new Court Wizard.”
Tvrdik, surprised and warmed by that introduction, bowed graciously, “Lady.”
“Court Wizard?” the stranger seemed shaken. “I was not aware there were any more wizards. I knew Xaarus when I was last here, and was saddened to learn of his disappearance.”
“I was for several years a pupil of Xaarus, and have also recently returned to court from abroad, my lady.” On an impulse, he waved his hand and pulled a lovely bouquet of fragrant blooms from the air and handed it to her. Jorelial’s eyebrow shot up again. The stranger smiled.
“How charming! Xaarus might have done something very like that. You are indeed his student.”
Tvrdik turned quite red, a little dashed at not having been particularly original, and a little flattered. Something about that face seemed familiar, and was also a little mind-addling. He felt a bit like an awkward child under its lovely gaze. The Lady Regent interrupted, a bit louder than necessary.
“Since you say you have spent time here, and know me, I am embarrassed to confess that I do not know who you are, Lady. I apologize if I should recognize you – your face is very familiar to me in a distant sort of way. The cares of the last few months may have clouded my brain…”
“It is not your fault, nor unexpected, considering the last we saw of each other you were but a child of ten, I think…” The stranger lowered her eyes, as if remembering a great sadness, and then looked Jorelial Rey full in the face. Slowly, gradually, the Lady Regent’s eyes grew large in shock and recognition.
“Brendelle,” she gasped, almost in a whisper.
“The same.”
There was a pause, in which Tvrdik looked from one to the other in confusion. What had just happened? Seeing his question, Jorelial Rey sank onto the throne, and with great deliberation, said, “Tvrdik, I would like you to meet the Lady Brendelle of Euligia. Delphine’s mother.”
THIRTY-ONE
Brendelle
IN A FLASH, IT WAS clear to Tvrdik why the face of the stranger had seemed so familiar – there was so much of Delphine in it. With the mystery of the visitor’s identity solved, all of them realized that they had more than a few minutes of catching up to do, and that the woman was standing before them in full armor. Jorelial Rey summoned Warlowe, dismissed the standard-bearers, and asked for him to escort them to the kitchens for something to eat. Once there, he was also to arrange for refreshments to be sent back to the Hall of Audience, and leave word for General Boone that the company aboard the Euligian ships were to be invited ashore and made comfortable. Lastly, he was to find Mark, at any cost, either in the palace, or ba
ck at the gaming field, and ask him to report to them at his earliest convenience. Warlowe bowed and took his leave, tasks firmly in hand.
Next, Tvrdik and the Lady Regent set about helping their guest to divest herself of her heavy breastplate, arm- and leg- protectors.
“We assumed that war was imminent, according to our information, and came to support you in your fight to preserve the Crown. I have brought you two entire regiments, fully equipped and trained, and three ships dedicated against Drogue.” She spoke his name as if the word itself tasted bitter on her lips. “We did not know how we would find the situation on our arrival, and so we prepared for a battle already in progress. Also, I must confess…I did think the armor would mask my identity while I gauged what welcome I might receive here…” She was talking as they worked to untie and pull pieces of heavy metal from her trim figure.
“Well, you succeeded in that, at least,” the Lady Rey answered, “You had me completely mystified. And, thank the gods, there is no need yet to leap into a pitched battle, though you might not be far off the mark. We were frantic ourselves for awhile, mistaking your vessels for Drogue’s warships.”
“Sorry. I judged speed to be more important at the moment than courtesy.”
“Of course. The moment we saw your flags, we knew, although we weren’t sure of your purpose, and certainly had no idea you were…well, you! I am relieved to hear that you sail on our side.”
She stood before them now, an attractive woman approaching forty, in plain leggings and a belted tunic. And of course, that cloud of unmistakable hair. She narrowed her green eyes at them, “How could you think otherwise?”
“How, exactly, should I be certain?” Jorelial’s cultivated veneer of calm and patience was beginning to crack. “Let me ask you this, then. Why now? Sixteen, seventeen years you disappear; we see nothing of you, hear not a word…you leave that beautiful little girl abandoned and wondering what she had done to deserve such a fate. And then today you reappear like the heroic savior in a storybook, and expect that all is forgiven?” She paused, attempting to regain her composure. Her next words were barely audible, “Father was devastated. He was consumed with loneliness.”
The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare Page 50