Winter Mage

by Tim Niederriter

  “It was not simply my talents as a Saale, this time.” He patted the branch he sat upon. “Rather, the loyalty of this marvelous tree is what brought me back here.”

  Brosk laughed. He sank slowly to the ground, shaking with mirth. He looked up at Edmath, tears coming down his face. “Chelka may well strike you over this.”

  “I feel she may forgive me if I avoid further danger.” Edmath climbed down from Orpus Lengbyoi. He slipped once only to be helped down by a root. “Now, Brosk, I don’t believe you’ve met the world’s first talking Orpus tree.” He walked forward, waving a hand out behind him and laughing. “This fine plant carried me all the way from Niniar.”

  “And I’ll take you to the High Castle if you let me.” Orpus Lengbyoi’s high voice came from the seal with a pulse of light.

  Brosk stepped back awkwardly, his crutch dragging on the stones. “Was that it? It’s a small voice indeed, for such a large tree.”

  “That was me.” Orpus Lengbyoi raised a trio of its roots from the ground and drummed them on Edmath’s shoulders. “My name is Orpus Lengbyoi. Pleased to meet you, Prince Naopaor.”

  With a grin, Brosk looked up at the tree and shook his head again. “You sure are a big one. How long did it take you to get here from Niniar?”

  “Two days.” Orpus Lengbyoi’s seal pulsed happily.

  Brosk’s mouth fell open.

  “By land that should have taken you twice that long.”

  Orpus Lengbyoi waved a root idly through the air.

  “I don’t sleep.”

  Edmath chuckled when Brosk glanced at him looking quizzical. The fact that Orpus Lengbyoi was not an animal didn’t seem to have sunk in on him yet. After the journey, Edmath would have taken it for granted were it not for Brosk’s surprise.

  “I imagine Lengbyoi will need to rest in the sun for a while before its healthy enough to do that again, though.” Edmath looked back up at the Orpus and then turned to Brosk. “If it wouldn’t be a bother, would you take Lengbyoi to the gardeners and find a place for it to stay?”

  Brosk shrugged his shoulders and crutched over to Orpus Lengbyoi. “No issue there. Indeed, I’m still having trouble believing you survived at all. It was too much to go through, Ed.” Patting Orpus Lengbyoi’s trunk, Brosk tipped his head with a ghost of a frowned at Edmath. “Follow me, my good tree.”

  In reply, Orpus Lengbyoi scooped up the whale prince with his roots and deposited him on a branch. Brosk gave a start as he landed, glanced at Edmath, and then back at the tree trunk.

  “Point where you want me to go,” Orpus Lengbyoi said. “You’d be slow with that stick holding you up.”

  “True enough. Your sticks are much swifter.” Brosk pointed down the path and hung onto his crutch with the other hand. Orpus Lengbyoi carried him away down the path, shining his light over the first leaves that had fallen from the other trees in the garden.

  Edmath turned and started off to look for Chelka.

  Edmath walked the path to the High Castle alone in gathering gloom. After watching the landscape moving past from Orpus Lengbyoi’s branches for so long walking seemed slow to him. He wished he wasn’t still so tired. When he reached the door to the residences, at last, the sun had sunk behind the western walls.

  He made his way through the passages to the room Chelka had been given as an Imperial Saale, before their marriage. The door was shut and the hallway outside, dark. Careful not to disturb any of the plants along the wall with his footsteps, Edmath approached and knocked.

  No answer came from the other side. Carefully turning the knob of the door, Edmath pulled it open and looked into the shadowy chamber beyond it.

  “Oresso, go away,” Chelka murmured from within the darkened room.

  “I’m not Oresso.” Edmath frowned. The thought that the Coral Prince might have tried to court Chelka so soon after Edmath’s own apparent death left him uneasy.

  The room was still and lit by a solitary candle on the table by the bed. Chelka lay on her side upon the sheets wearing a thin gown that went up to her shoulders, but no rega. She faced away from the door.

  Edmath removed his sandals and approached the bed on silent feet. She did not turn, or show any sign of hearing him. Her breath moved her side and she rolled onto her back as he reached her.

  Chelka’s sleepy eyes fluttered open as he sat down beside her edge of the sheets. She saw Edmath and scowled.

  “Ghosts are no use for love. People can’t feel them.”

  “Do you really think I’m a ghost?” Edmath leaned down and kissed her gently.

  She shoved him hard in the chest. He braced his foot on the floor. She fell back onto the bed, eyes still fixed on him, mouth half open. Her surprise filled her face and she flushed. Tears welled up.

  “You really live? You’re really here?”

  Edmath nodded.

  “I am. I’m sorry Oresso Nane beat me to speaking to you this time.”

  “He’s no one to me.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. Please, forgive the lateness of my return.”

  “I wish I could, but I cannot promise…” Tears flowed freely. “Edmath, what happened?”

  “Lengbyoi rescued me from the ruins of Fort Ash. He carried me here.”

  “How could you do this to me Ed?” she shook her head and sat up, propped on her hands. “You survived but fooled everyone into thinking you dead.” She stared at him, tears running down her face as she opened her arms to embrace him. “You don’t know how I felt when I thought you were gone.”

  “I want to know.”

  Seldom had he been more sincere.

  “First tell me how you survived the battle.”

  “A hesiatic trance protected me long enough for Lengbyoi to dig me out of the rubble.” Edmath hugged Chelka back. “It took him some time to find me, even after I awakened.” He put his head over her shoulder and felt her fingers move up to his neck. He pressed her to his heart. “I hope you will forgive me, my dear.”

  “Edmath, you often make me afraid for you. Of all the things in this world there are to fear, I think I know now what I dread the most. Do not make me feel that again.”

  “I wish I could promise that.” Edmath released her from his arms and she lay back down on the bed. “I am not sure where this life of mine will lead if Roshi continues hostilities. You must know this as well.”

  Chelka sighed thoughtfully and closed her eyes. “I do, Ed. Oh, how I do. Oresso Nane was already talking to me about what I should do since you did not come back. You must have defeated Tamina Roshi, despite the assumption you had died.” Her face turned bright with joy, but shadows hinted at new concern. “I suppose you’ve heard no news since you were rushing back here to comfort me?”

  “You suppose correctly, dear Chelka. All other matters aside, I knew I needed to return to you.” Edmath lay down beside her as she opened her eyes. She turned her head to look at him and touched his arm with her fingertips.

  “Kassel Onoi is still nowhere to be found,” she said. “He must have fled the city the night before the battle. The new Worm Queen is Jiena Hadoi, a cousin of Onoi’s former general, Daderon. The Roshi have not advanced since midsummer, but several of their armies remain within the borders.”

  “Interesting, but what of business here at the palace?” Edmath smiled gently as she brushed his chest with her hand.

  “Little has happened, really. The High Emperor assured us all that the sphere of humanity is recovering from the damage Akalok Roshi did. In all, I’d say we’ve beaten back the conflict for now.”

  “What of Tusami Gesa? She was near me in the battle.”

  “Alive and recovering.”

  “And Morior Lem?”

  “Well enough though exhausted. He has not appeared at Court, complaining of the death cost. He is old and it hits him more acutely than the rest of us.”

  Edmath thought of a stethian, imagined the smoking crystal on its end.

&nb
sp; “Physically, you seem well.”

  “Stethians are terrible tools,” Chelka said. “Especially for someone with my skills.” Chelka’s hand once more touched Edmath’s neck, tracing a circle along his skin. “What is this, Ed? This mark on your neck?”

  “It is new to me that I have any mark there.” Edmath furrowed his brow. Chelka withdrew from him a few inches. Her hand dropped between them. He took her hand gently. “What is it?”

  “The mark is circular, and your eyes are black, my dear. What has happened to you since the battle?”

  “I do not know. Perhaps it is a side-effect of the death drain?” Edmath furrowed his brow. “I have never taken a human life without using a stethian before.” Even as he spoke, Edmath knew what he was saying could not be it. He might be of an unusual bloodline, but the killing of another with magic should not have affected his appearance at all.

  “You were buried for almost two weeks, and in a trance for most of that.” Chelka sat up and did not look in his direction as she folded her hands on her knees. “Something could have happened to you then.”

  “I may never know.” Edmath closed his eyes. He sat up and put his arm around her. “But I will look into it.”

  They talked a while longer, but the night became deep and dark and Edmath fell asleep lying beside Chelka when they had exhausted their conversation.

  He awoke in the night. Darkness trapped his sight as even the candle had gone out and the air was cold. The breeze blowing through the western window chilled him and he crawled further under the sheets, trying not to disturb his sleeping wife. He squirmed and wrestled with his eyes, trying to make them stay shut. His will to sleep failed him and he lay awake. He listened to the curtains moving in the window.

  The sound of flowing shades was joined by a small scratching sound as Edmath listened over the next hour or so. He fell asleep again soon after that and did not awake again until morning.

  Chelka took the next day off from her duties and the two of them spent the morning wandering the streets of Diar together. They tasted foods in the market, then placed a few bets on an elk race in the eastern hills, and eventually made their way down to the waterfront to meet with Sampheli Mierzon at the serpent hostel.

  Autumn was in full strength in Diar. The winds picked up as the day went on, rustling red leaves on the deciduous trees. Snow never fell in or around Diar, partially because of proximity to the magically-warmed island of Tokalgo and partially because of its position on the peninsula. Edmath looked forward to the winter, for that was when politics slowed for the Saale and War Courts, while the Hearth Court became truly busy with supplying outlying villages where the cold of the seasonal change was felt.

  He and Chelka walked down the street where Edmath had seen his first moth carriage just three months ago. She pointed out an air levoth passing overhead, wings spread and tail streaming with the banner of the Eagle Tribe. He shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted to see the symbols on the end of the banner.

  “Peace in Meni,” he read aloud. “So I suppose there is good news coming in.”

  Chelka glanced at him. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

  “I simply couldn’t help but see it. I suppose that means the war is over.”

  “Likely it does.”

  “Of course, you know what this means, don’t you?” The two of them stopped in front of the carved columns that supported the porch of the serpent hostel.

  Chelka shook her head and smiled.

  “Go on and tell me, Ed.”

  “My dear, I promised the good Orpus Lengbyoi I would grow it some company when the war was over. I still have recovering to do, but it’ll want me to follow through with my end of the bargain.”

  “Naturally, I suppose.” Chelka took Edmath’s hand. “Do what you must for your trees, Edmath.”

  “Of course. Thank you, my dear.” Edmath clasped her hand tight as they climbed the stairs.

  Sampheli Mierzon waited for them on the porch, half-shadowed by a pillar and focused intently on a piece of wood she was carving. Edmath greeted her. She looked up at him. Then wonder filled her eyes.

  “Edmath, my son! Oh, I’d heard rumors of your escape and had scarcely dared believe it! Chelka, my honorable daughter, how have you been this day?”

  Chelka swept a fall of hair over one ear and bowed her head.

  “I am well, mother, far better now that your son has returned.”

  “He shocks us all. How much grief must you put your family through, my shaggy son?” Sampheli Mierzon smirked as she stood and opened her arms as if to embrace both Edmath and Chelka at once.

  He scratched his stubble and then put an arm around her shoulder.

  “Forgive me. I say I will not do it again, mother.”

  Sampheli released them from her hug and sat back down on her down. She motioned for Chelka and Edmath to sit as well.

  “Promises, promises. Say these things if you will, but this is far more than a matter of words. Take better care of yourself. I’m sure Chelka would appreciate that even more than I would.”

  Chelka nodded, though her smile remained.

  With a pang of guilt, Edmath sat down in a chair beside his mother and across from Chelka who sat with her chair against one of the pillars by the stairs. He had never wanted to go to war, never wanted to risk his life. He was still not a warrior. The stethian’s power had fooled him into thinking he might be one. Sampheli set her dark head back on the rest of her wicker chair and looked at Chelka.

  “You indeed seem to be getting along well at the moment, good daughter.”

  Chelka frowned.

  “Until Edmath returned, I would not have said so.”

  “Prince Nane seems to hold you in high regard,” said Sampheli. “Or so my blood daughter tells me.”

  Chelka’s face flushed.

  “Mother Sampheli, please. I never entertained him, and all those dramatics are in the past.”

  “I hope so.” Sampheli’s lips turned upward at the corners. “But don’t let me trouble you further about that business.”

  “Thank you.” Chelka’s color began to lower.

  Edmath put his arm around her waist. He turned to Sampheli.

  “Dear mother,” he said. “There is no need to act suspicious.”

  “Right you are.” Sampheli’s eyes looked almost as reptilian as if she was in her serpent tosh. The look betrayed her continued suspicions, though the expression was directed at Edmath, not Chelka. She met his eyes, once green but now black.

  They engaged in a few minutes of small-talk. As the discussion tapered off, Sampheli got to her feet and led the two of them across the porch to where a slender, foot-long serpent lay coiled in the sunlight. The snake looked up at them. Sampheli stopped before the animal. The snake uncoiled from its place and slithered over to her, climbing up her leg, then onto her arm.

  She turned back to Edmath and held out the arm with the snake hanging from it.

  “Don’t touch him, let him come to you. I want to see if he still accepts you.”

  Chelka frowned as the snake extended, touching Edmath’s hand with the end of its flat head. He looked down at it, wondering what it would do. The snake looked up into his eyes, forked tongue flicking out.

  “Wrong, too wrong,” the snake said, and then bit at his hand. He pulled back just in time and the little animal’s fangs missed him narrowly, leaving the snake’s head to flounder in mid-air. Edmath stepped back.

  “I suppose he isn’t having a good day,” he said. “Of course,” he added in the serpent language. “I don’t blame you, little fellow.”

  Sampheli laughed and set the snake down on the porch railing.

  “All this means is you are now known as a member of the squid tribe by your marriage.”

  Edmath was not so sure. The way the snake had looked into his eyes made him wonder if his new affliction was what frightened the creature. The snake slithered away and down a
pillar to the bushes below.

  Still, Edmath knew what Sampheli had been doing. Since he had been adopted into the Serpent Tribe, snakes had all been friendly with him. They had recognized his membership, but now he belonged to the nobility of the Squid Tribe. How much could his eyes matter?

  He supposed he would have more influence with his new family and less with his old. Even non-royals of a tribe could benefit from simple things like a serpent that would not bite, or squid that would not crush.

  The three of them talked about the plans for Edmath and Chelka’s home once their year as court Saales was over. He remembered the way the snake had changed its mood when it looked at him. It had been afraid. He had seen that the look in its eyes, similar to the one in Sampheli’s own reptilian gaze. Whatever had turned his eyes black had also unsettled the serpent and that could not be a good sign. Perhaps the animal’s discomfort marked a greater change than his change of family.

  He and Chelka shared dinner with Sampheli that night in the hostel, then returned to the palace to sleep.

  After a bath and a shave, Edmath met Chelka and Brosk outside the Saale Palace the next morning.

  Brosk still leaned on a crutch and held in his other hand what Edmath recognized as Chelka’s stethian. The Saale weapon made taking life easy. Edmath did not like that fact, or that Chelka had used her device like she had known how all along. Edmath wondered if mystic knowledge combined with survival instincts really explained the affinity she had with the stethian. Perhaps it was due to her class as a royal, or her unique style of Saale magic.

  Chelka smiled at him as he approached. She took the stethian from Brosk.

  “Your mother’s words got to you, Ed?” She giggled a sound out of place, given the lethal tool she carried. “Or did you just not like the look of the beard you were growing?”

  Edmath forced a smile.

  “Both those reasons, though my appearance factored in more than I first thought. A clean body makes for a clean mind. And a clean mind forms a clean aura.”