It wasn’t a cloud I was riding on, but a palanquin of sorts. Really it was more of a cushioned bed on two poles, and the two of them were carrying me, though they had since stopped. We were in the meadow below my house on the mountainside. I still felt weird, but my mind was functioning. It was obvious I wasn’t dead.
Looking up at Chad again, I spoke, “If this is heaven, should you be here?”
Conall snickered, and I winked at him. Meanwhile Chad’s eyes narrowed as he studied me, wondering if I were really regaining my self-awareness. Finally, the hunter replied, “Ye’re right about that. This ain’t heaven. Not a tavern in sight. ‘Swhy I brought this.” He held up a small metal flask and unscrewed the top, taking a swallow.
“Why are we on the mountainside?” I asked. It seemed a strange place for a sick-bed.
Conall answered, “Elise thought you might benefit from some sunshine.”
Chad chuckled. “More like yer wife got sick of lookin’ at that dumbass face of yours.”
Despite his rough tongue, I found myself smiling like an idiot. “Is she alright? How about everyone else? How long have I been out of it?”
Chad summarized quickly, “She’s fine, they’re fine, and you’ve been a gibbering idiot long enough to piss me off pretty good.” He addressed my son next, “Since he’s talkin’ we best get him back to the house. The Queen will want to know.”
Conall picked up his end of the litter, and they started trudging back uphill while I pondered what had been said. “The Queen, is she here?” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Chad. “While you were sick they all got together an’ decided to throw ya a fuckin’ party. They’re up there now, plannin’ decorations and decidin’ which noble pricks to put on the guest list.”
“Master Grayson!” snapped Conall, outraged. Then he spoke to me directly, “Matthew finished the portal to Albamarl, and Her Majesty came to observe your recovery.”
Nodding, I looked back at Chad. “While I was sick I had some interesting dreams. I thought you tried to see me, but Penny wouldn’t let you in. Something about Lancaster having vanished…”
The huntsman winced. “That was no dream. She damn near broke my neck.”
“And Lancaster?”
Conall broke in, “That’s why he’s so mad. It’s gone. He and Sir Cyhan, and a lot of the hunters went to scout the area after that. Most of them didn’t come back. Sir Cyhan was badly wounded, and he says the missing are either dead or…”
He stopped, so I prompted him, “Or what?”
Chad finished for him, “Or eaten. Somethin’ bad came out of the forest, though I’ll be damned if I could tell ya what it is.”
“Walter and Elaine were with them,” Conall informed me. “They haven’t come back either.”
Alarmed, I asked, “When was this?”
“Four days ago. Same day yer wife tried to break my neck,” answered the old archer. “Arrows had no effect on ‘em. Their hides were tougher than granite, an’ they just about ignored everything that old Walter an’ his daughter threw at ‘em too.”
“Tell me exactly what happened,” I ordered.
“One of my boys came back that mornin’, told us that Lancaster was missin’. Walter checked the World Road portal, and tried the teleportation circles, and none of ‘em were workin’. After yer wife nearly killed me, I went back with Cyhan and a group of scouts, along with the two wizards,” began Chad. “When we got there, there wasn’t no sign of what shoulda been there. Lancaster was gone, just as neat as ya please. The road just dead ended against a forest the likes of which I ain’t never seen. Trees as big across as two men layin’ head to toe. Huge ferns and grass so thick ye’d think no one’d ever been there before.
“I sent two men south and two to the north, to try and see how far it went. The rest of us went straight in, tryin’ to reach Castle Lancaster, or at least see if it was still there. We barely got five hundred yards in before somethin’ jumped out and about tore poor Sammel in half. Damn thing was as big as a bear, a really big fuckin’ bear, but it didn’t have fur. Its skin was hard and crusty, like it was covered in gravel.
“It ripped into the guys in front, an’ nearly had me fer dinner, but Cyhan ducked in and took one of its legs off midway down. It fell forward, and then slapped him with its other paw and pitched him ten foot into a tree. Damn near killed him, armor or no armor. I had my bow out by then, but arrows didn’t do nothin’, didn’t even piss it off.
“That one was too hurt to follow though, so we started backin’ outta there, ‘til it’s mate showed up and bit Fergus’s head clean off. Walter’s girl hit it with lightin’ an’ he tried to burn it, but it just started roarin’ and tearin’ into everyone. I was dragging Cyhan by the feet, so I couldn’t do much. We just ran—everyone left anyway.
“We didn’t stop until we were gone from there and a hundred yards more besides. That’s when I noticed Walter an’ Elaine weren’t with us.” Chad stopped then, his features hard.
“But they weren’t all dead, not yet. We could still hear ‘em,” he said slowly. “One of ‘em kept screamin’ fer almost a quarter of an hour, like it was eatin’ him alive. An’ we just kept walkin’. Couldn’t look back, couldn’t even look at each other. That was four days ago, an’ ain’t no one gone near there since.” The old hunter fell silent at last.
I didn’t know what to say, but Conall spoke up, coming to the master hunter’s defense, “They wanted to go back. Mom and Gram were going to go with the house guard and the hunters, but the Queen showed up first. She wouldn’t let them, not without magical support.”
As much as I hated the thought of my children going into harm’s way, I didn’t understand. Even with Walter and Elaine missing, there were still George Prathion, Lynaralla, Matthew, Moira, and even Conall. They could have gone back with the troops, Sir Gram, and the dragons. If they had returned immediately, the chances they could recover some of those lost would have been much higher.
My son must have seen the confusion on my face. “They were sick, well, a lot of them anyway, Gram, Irene, Matthew, and even Lynaralla.”
The odds of that didn’t seem likely. “All of them at the same time?”
Conall nodded, “Off and on, they took turns.”
We were almost to the house, but I motioned for them to stop. I wasn’t ready to face everyone yet. I had already noticed that my magesight was back. It had taken a moment because it was such a normal part of my life that it was usually easier to notice its absence. Examining myself, both with my eyes and my arcane senses, I could see that I was a wreck.
The swelling in my hands and feet was better, but still present, and my skin was an ugly mess of red blotchy areas and lighter patches. My hair was remarkably well kept, a sign that someone had been grooming me, but I had no doubt there would be bags under my eyes, if I looked in a mirror. Trying to rise had shown me how weak my arms were, and I knew without trying that my legs wouldn’t hold my weight.
“Go wait by the door,” I told my keepers. “I’ll join you in a minute.”
“Dad!” protested Conall. “You can’t walk yet. You’ll fall for sure.”
Chad put a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “Leave him be, lad. It’s every man’s right to make an ass of himself. If he falls and breaks somethin’, we can just laugh and pack him back onto his bed here.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I’m hopin’ you know what ye’re doin’. If you do hurt yerself, that mad dog wife o’ yours will have my balls.” He led Conall away while I grinned.
What I was about to do was about the simplest form of metamagic, returning my body to its former healthy state. Unlike most other things an archmage might do, this didn’t require me to become anything other than myself. My mind didn’t have to encompass something foreign. In comparison to the difficulty of healing using ordinary wizardry, it was absurdly easy.
But I didn’t want to just return to my most recent former health. I wanted to make some improvements, and that could be tricky.
The body, or rather the part of the mind that represents our body to us, has a strong memory. Returning to what you were moments before an injury was simple, but to deliberately alter something was much harder, and if an archmage should let his focus waver for an instant, the result could be unpredictable.
Years of good food and little exercise had produced predictable effects, effects that were firmly set in my mind. But I didn’t care. Or maybe it was my recent encounter with Tyrion. Being beaten half to death by a lean, muscular, and disgustingly handsome man, while my wife looked on—there was every chance that it factored into my decision. But I’d be damned before I admitted it.
Closing my eyes, I imagined myself, not as I was now, but as I had been two weeks ago. I concentrated until I could feel it, believe it, and then I began to retouch the image in my mind. The grey hair I kept, there was no need to be obvious. Besides, I rather liked it. If anything, for a man, grey hair was a blessing. Rank and station aside, you got more respect with some grey in your beard.
The belly needed work, though, and my muscles, but not too much. I had no intention of trying to imitate that sweaty muscled barbarian I had recently fought. No, this wasn’t because of him at all. Definitely not.
I tried to remember what it was like to run without being out of breath too soon, the vitality of just ten years past. The memory of it was easy, but keeping it solid in my thoughts was more difficult.
My face and skin I left mostly unchanged, I had always been content with my features, and age had been kind to me thus far. The faint lines and whatnot were welcome. If anything, they had improved my looks. The only thing I altered was removing a small mole that had appeared near the corner of one of my eyes a few years back.
The soreness in my back and shoulder, which had become ever present in recent years, I had no mercy or regret over those.
Once my vision, my self-delusion, was complete, I touched it and let myself flow into it, letting it become reality. When I opened my eyes again, it was done. I took a deep breath and stretched, enjoying the sensation. I felt better than I had in years. Why hadn’t I done this sooner?
The answer was simple, for Penny. I wanted to grow old with her, and I hoped I hadn’t screwed that up too much. I’d know for sure when I found a mirror, but for now my magesight seemed to confirm that things were as they were supposed to be.
From what I knew, mages tended to live substantially longer than most of their non-magical peers. Wizardry allowed the healing of many minor wounds, and even those not skilled in healing seemed to do something, perhaps subconsciously, that kept their bodies working long after most people started to bow beneath the weight of their years. Archmages however, didn’t even need to worry about that. Some in the past had chosen to remain eternally young, right up until the day they fell over dead.
The aystrylin, the source of one’s life-force and aythar, that was the true limit. When that eventually gave out, you died, whether you were a wizard, an archmage, or a regular person like my deceased friend, Marc. Most people possessed an aystrylin that would still have plenty of life left in it by the time their bodies gave out, and mages tended to have even sturdier aystrylins than most. It was possible, barring a horribly violent end, that I might live to be very old indeed.
The sad truth was that someday I’d likely have to watch my wife pass while I was still hale. But until that day came, I intended to wear my years proudly.
Today was an exception, I told myself. And I only did enough to recover from my illness and make myself healthy enough to deal with that asshole Tyrion if it becomes necessary. As long as I still look old it should be fine.
Standing in the sunshine, I hardly noticed the cold autumn wind. “Damn this feels good,” I said to no one in particular. But I won’t do it again, I assured myself. Still, even the thought felt false. How long would it be before I gave in again, and how would Penny feel if she was forced to watch me remain young while she slowly crumbled over the decades to come?
No, never again. Not until the terrible day that I became a widower, and maybe not even then.
“Knowing my luck, I’ll be killed in some particularly awful way long before she died,” I said aloud, and then I laughed at the thought. Despite my newfound vitality, the wind was cold, and I was naked. I could have removed a blanket from the litter and wrapped myself in it, but since my power was back I created a bubble of warm air around myself.
To solve the ‘nobody-wants-to-see-that-scary-naked-middle-aged-man’ problem, I added illusory clothing. Close fitting black trousers and doeskin boots that almost reached the knee made a nice counterpoint to the loose white linen shirt covering my torso. Well, most of my torso, I left it unbuttoned in the front. I was feeling wicked.
Using my power, I created a reflective pane of air in front of me so I could check my appearance. Damn, I do look good, I thought appreciatively. All I needed was a rose clenched between my teeth, and I’d be ready to see Penny. I dismissed the idea, though. As funny as it was, it was too much.
Leaving my litter behind, I walked up the slope to where Conall and Chad were waiting.
“Dad?” said Conall, his voice quavering slightly.
Chad’s response was more colorful, “Well, fuck me…”
“I’m feeling much better now,” I told them. “Let me go in first. I want to surprise them.” I stepped past and opened the door without waiting for a reply.
My mother and Elise Thornbear were sitting in the front room, while Alyssa served them tea in small cups. The three women noticed me immediately and their reactions were all the reward I could have asked for.
My mother was first. “Mordecai?”
“I don’t believe it,” added Elise.
Alyssa’s reaction was the best, though. Unlike the other two, she noticed my clothing first, and as her eyes traveled up my partially bare chest her cheeks colored slightly, and she nearly dropped the teapot. “Milord,” she said quickly, dipping her head forward respectfully.
Their welcome was immediate and confusing. After a rush of questions, I stopped them. “I’m alright. I woke up. I healed myself…” My mother ignored all that and rushed to hug me.
I leaned much farther forward for the hug than I usually would have, and as her hands found my bare shoulders she understood why. “I haven’t had a chance to dress myself yet,” I told her.
Elise was also on her feet, but she stopped a few feet away. “I guess the hugs can wait then. Go get dressed. I’m starting to blush just thinking about it, and I’m far too old for that.”
I winked at her and then asked, “Where is everyone?”
Meredith answered me, “Irene and Lynaralla are in bed. They’ve been very sick today. Moira is looking in on them. Matthew and Gram are out, scouting the area around Lancaster from dragonback. Rose and the Queen have returned to Albamarl to inform the high council of recent events…”
“And Penny?”
“She just got back,” said Elise. “She’s in your room, getting out of that smelly armor.”
“Armor?”
My mother and Elise exchanged a quick glance. Then Mom spoke first, “She’s been in the castle yard all day, getting the men ready for the expedition or sortie, whatever you want to call it.”
I raised my brows questioningly.
“They’re planning to take back Lancaster,” Elise added. “You have a lot to catch up on.” She started to tell me more, but Meredith interrupted her.
“Go see Penny. She needs to see you first, and she can tell you the rest.” Mom made a shooing motion at me, directing me toward the hallway.
Needing no further encouragement, I headed for the master bedroom. I opened the door and found my wife with her hands in the air and her head covered. She was trying to shimmy out of her mail and padded gambeson unassisted which, while possible, was an awkward undertaking. Currently the chain shirt and gambeson were half off but her arms were still trapped in the sleeves. She was bent over the bed, shaking her body from side to side and tryi
ng to get them to slide loose.
At the sound of the door she jerked and yelled, her voice slightly muffled by the gambeson, “How many times have I told you to knock?! I’m changing!”
I grinned. She thought I was one of the kids. Ignoring her warning, I closed the door and stepped up behind her. Then I leaned forward to slide my hands up her sides in an attempt to help lift the armor from her. It wasn’t an innocent attempt either, I made certain to enjoy her curves along the way.
Surprised, she jerked, spinning in place. The heavy arms of her mail coat slammed into the side of my head, and I fell sideways. “What the…!” she yelled. “Who is that?”
The impact left my head reeling, so I sat on the floor while I collected my wits. Meanwhile, Penny finished discarding her armor and grabbed up her sword before turning to face me. She froze when she realized who it was sitting before her. “Mort? How? Oh, gods! Are you alright?”
Her hair was sticking up in random directions, thanks to the armor she had just removed. She was clothed now in a linen undershirt, but she still had on the mail leggings, secured to a waist belt. Reaching down she pulled me to my feet and then wrapped me in her arms.
Being naked, I found the cold rough texture of the mail unpleasant against my lower half, but I kept my complaint to myself. Much better was her second surprise. Finding my back bare beneath her hands, she slid one down until it reached my buttocks.
“You don’t waste any time, do you madam?!” I proclaimed with a lopsided grin as she pushed me back slightly.
“You’re naked!” Penny had always been very observant.
My grin grew wider, and I added a lascivious leer. “You should know, since I’m sure you were the one who undressed me.”
Her face took on an evil expression. “Actually, it was Elise who undressed you. I was in no state to manage it at the time.”
My smile turned sour. “Why did she need to?”
“Bed bath,” said Penny. Sensing her advantage, she added, “She was very gentle.” Penny enjoyed my grimace, but then she started asking questions. “How are you like this? You were deathly ill a few hours ago.”
Mordecai Page 14