Mordecai

by Michael G. Manning

  Ariadne nodded. “We are especially grateful for your son, Sir Conall. Without him I fear my life would have been forfeit.”

  My eyes grew wider. Sir Conall?

  Rose jumped in to save me from my confusion. “The Queen has conferred a knighthood on your son in recognition of his bravery.”

  It was too much to take in all at once. “Congratulations, Conall,” I said, but as I glanced around the table I felt alone. Rose’s eyes were distant, or perhaps she was trying to give me a warning. Ariadne’s face was neutral; she was constrained by her role. The others, with the exception of my son and Sir Harold, seemed hostile. I couldn’t stay there any longer.

  Rising to my feet, I bowed and excused myself. “I beg permission to take my leave, Your Majesty. My son is needed at home for an urgent family matter.” I wanted to tell her about Penny’s death, but I didn’t want to announce it in front of a hostile audience, especially not with Conall present. He needed to hear it somewhere private.

  “You have yet to explain yourself, Cameron!” challenged the prince-consort.

  “And I shall!” I barked. “But not to you, and not now.”

  Conall spoke up, “I’d rather remain, Father. The Queen needs me.”

  Thankfully, Ariadne came to my aid. “You have our permission to withdraw, Lord Cameron. Sir Conall, attend to your father. You may return later. The danger has passed for now.”

  I bowed to my cousin, turned, and strode quickly from the room without looking back. With my magesight I saw my son reluctantly follow, along with Lady Rose, after whispering into the Queen’s ear.

  Outside the throne room, Rose’s composed features relaxed. “Have Matthew and Gram returned?”

  “Not yet,” I replied hollowly. She was worried about her son, and I couldn’t blame her for that. I wanted to tell her about Penny, but my tongue seemed stuck. Conall was staring at me, frustration in his eyes, probably wondering why I had dragged him away from his moment of glory.

  “Mort, I know a lot has happened, but after that attack the other night, shouldn’t you be checking on them before coming here?” said Rose critically.

  Frustration, rage, and sorrow warred for first place in my heart. I wanted to make sure you and my mother were safe. That’s what I should have said, but when I opened my mouth it was my bile that spoke, “After what just happened in there, I’m thinking I should have come here sooner. The palace is turning into a nest of vipers.”

  Rose’s face blanched, hearing the reproach in my voice. “That was unexpected, I will agree. I don’t know what Tyrion is planning yet, but it’s obvious that—”

  “It’s obvious I could use a friend in there,” I interrupted. “Too bad there were none to be found.”

  Now she was angry. “I know you’re not that stupid, Mordecai. You have to control your emotions, or your opponents will use them against you. I tried to warn you, but you insisted on acting like a child. Performances like the one you just put on won’t win you friends. They’ll alienate your allies. Do you have any idea what the Queen is dealing with right now?”

  Inside, I was falling apart. Only my simmering anger kept me from breaking down, but I didn’t need an argument with Rose. As far as I knew, she might be the only friend I had left. “I don’t need a lecture on political strategy right now, Rose.”

  I turned my back on her and started walking. “I’ll contact you as soon as I hear from Gram.”

  She was too proud to chase after me. I had been counting on that. Behind me Conall apologized to her and then hurried to catch up.

  I led him through the palace, heading for the royal residence. Once we were there, the guards stationed outside started to challenge me, but when they saw Conall they relaxed. The irony wasn’t lost on me. They trusted my son more than they did me. He’s the Queen’s Champion, I observed silently.

  Once inside, I headed directly for the hidden portal, but I had to cross a sitting room where Elise Thornbear and my mother were having tea. They smiled when they saw Conall and me enter the room.

  “We were just talking about you,” said my mother. She had Humphrey in her lap, running her fingers through his soft fur while he slept. “What happened at the castle? Is everyone safe?”

  Both of the older women, as well as Conall, were staring at me, and I struggled to find an answer. A shadow crossed my mother’s face as I hesitated. “Is Irene alright?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said finally. “She’s fine. The keep was badly damaged, but Irene is well. She held things together long enough for most of the people to evacuate.”

  “Thank goodness for that!” said my mother. “Things have been just as exciting around here. Did Conall tell you the news? He’s been made a knight.” She was beaming at her grandson with visible pride. “I can’t wait to tell Penelope. She’ll be so proud.”

  I came close to losing it then, but somehow, I held it in. “Mom, listen, I’m really tired. And I still have a lot to do. I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll have a long talk. Is that alright?”

  She could sense that something was wrong, but Meredith withheld her questions. “Of course. You’re an important man. Don’t let me hold you up. You can tell me everything then.”

  “Thanks,” I told her, and before Elise could add anything, I left.

  Chapter 42

  “Dad?” asked Conall as we stepped out of the portal and into the quiet of our home. “What’s wrong?”

  My magesight had already detected several other familiar presences in the dining room. “Let’s say hello to the others, first,” I told him.

  Elaine, Karen, and Lynaralla sat around the table, making an impromptu meal of some cheese and old bread. Karen grinned widely at me when we entered. “Have we got some news for you!”

  “You were successful then?” I asked.

  She nodded, then looked at Lynaralla. “Tell him, Lynn.”

  “Lyralliantha agreed to give us access. What’s more, she allowed us to transport most of the writings here, so we can study them at our leisure,” said the young She’Har.

  It was good news, but I couldn’t muster the enthusiasm I had felt a few days ago. “That’s wonderful,” I said glumly.

  Elaine’s eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong?”

  Rather than answer her question, I asked, “Have you been back to the castle?”

  Elaine shook her head. “No, we only returned an hour ago. Karen’s been busy teleporting back and forth to bring the She’Har sculptures here.”

  “Let me fetch Irene. Then we can talk,” I told them. “Give me a few minutes.” Then I headed for the kitchen and the door that led to the back garden.

  “The door to the castle is the other way,” observed Lynaralla.

  I stopped. “The portal is damaged. I’ll have to make a circle.”

  Karen swallowed hurriedly. “I can take you, then.”

  Waving at her to stay seated, I shook my head. “We’ll need a circle to use for the next few days anyway. Finish your food. You deserve a rest.”

  Once I was outside I cleared a section of ground and used my cloth stencil to create a temporary circle before adding the necessary keys to allow me to travel to the transfer house in the castle courtyard. Rather than simply use it, though, I took the additional step of burning the symbols into the earth, making the circle somewhat more permanent. Since it was etched into the soil, it still wasn’t extremely durable—a hard rain could wash it away—but it would probably last a few days at least. Exerting my will, I teleported.

  The transfer house was empty, but as soon as I stepped outside, I spotted my children. Matthew, Moira, and Gram were talking with Captain Draper in the yard. They looked tired and dirty, but their stances spoke of confidence and accomplishment, so I guessed they had been successful.

  Matthew gave me a rare smile. “It worked.”

  “By that, he means we blew them to tiny bits without destroying the world,” added Gram jovially, “something everyone conveniently forgot to tell me was a possibility
before we left.”

  My eyes found Captain Draper’s and he shook his head faintly. “Where is Irene?” I asked.

  “In the barracks, checking on the men,” said the captain.

  Meanwhile, I could feel Moira studying me. She had already picked up on the dark pall hanging over us, and then she looked at the captain. Don’t, I sent to her silently. Keep your mind closed. I’ll explain after we are all together.

  The captain sent a runner to tell Irene we were here. Apparently, the others had shown up only minutes before me. I began constructing a new circle inside the transfer house to allow us to teleport back to our home. Matthew joined me, offering to help. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, having seen the odd look on his sister’s face.

  “Wait until we get home,” I promised. Irene showed up a few minutes later, and as soon as the circle was finished, we teleported back.

  By the time we entered the house, Moira’s face had taken on a somber look. Irene was shielding her thoughts, but her emotional pain was painfully evident. Conall and the others glanced up from the table when we entered. “Welcome back.”

  A multitude of ‘hellos’ were exchanged, but they died away quickly as everyone waited for me to speak. Then Matthew spoke, “Where’s Mom?”

  Conall chimed in, “I thought she was with Irene.”

  At the mention of her name, my youngest daughter’s eyes began to well with tears.

  “No!” shouted Moira, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at her sister. “That’s not true! It can’t be true!”

  Matthew sat down, putting his face in his hands. He had already connected the dots, but Conall was still confused. “What’s going on?” Conall asked. “Why is everyone upset?”

  “Your mother was badly injured during the attack on Castle Cameron,” I began.

  Without looking up, Matthew broke in, “I told you we should wait. We should have kept more people here.”

  “Irene was still here,” said Conall—somewhat unhelpfully, in my opinion.

  Irene was already sobbing while Moira held her. “It was my fault; I should have protected her, but I couldn’t!” she yelled, the guilt in her voice wrenching at my heart.

  Conall looked back at me, ignoring her outburst. “How badly injured?”

  I couldn’t meet his eyes as I shook my head. “She didn’t survive.”

  “Because you couldn’t wait to think up a better plan,” said Matthew, his words cold and hard.

  Irene shoved herself away from her older sister, glaring at Matthew. “Leave him alone. None of this was his fault. Don’t you think he’s hurting too?”

  “The truth is what it is,” muttered Matthew.

  My oldest son stood, pushing away from the table. “Just shut up.” Then he walked away, heading toward his room.

  Conall called after him, “Wait. We haven’t heard what happened.”

  “Doesn’t matter does it?” said Matthew bitterly. “We know why she died. The how of it hardly matters. She’s still dead.” Then he was gone. Karen rose and followed him to his room.

  “Why does he have to be an asshole?” growled Moira, channeling her sadness into irritation with her brother.

  Irene left crying, heading for her own room. Conall went after her. “Wait, Rennie!”

  Moira remained, staring deeply into my eyes.

  “You should go with them,” I suggested. “They need you more than I do.”

  My oldest daughter hugged me, squeezing me so hard that my ribs protested. “I doubt that,” she replied, but then she went after them anyway, leaving me alone with Elaine, Gram, and Lynaralla.

  Elaine and Gram sat silent, their faces numb with shock, but Lynaralla was composed, her features expressionless. Or so I thought, until I noticed a solitary tear making its way down her cheek. When the She’Har girl met my eyes, she looked lost.

  “Why?” whispered Lynaralla.

  I dragged her to her feet and hugged her, struggling with my own tears as I answered, “I don’t know.”

  “Does my mother know yet?” asked Gram.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  I gave him a short summary of what had happened in the palace, ending with, “I was angry, upset, and aggravated. I wound up picking a fight with your mother. After that, I just couldn’t say it.”

  Gram sighed. “That was dumb.”

  Silently, I agreed. Dumb shit. Someone has to do it. Might as well be me. “It’s hard work, but it makes the rest of you look better.”

  Elaine mumbled to herself, staring off into space. “I still haven’t gotten over my father.” Then she put her face down on the table.

  ***

  Gram gave me a brief rundown of what happened during his mission with Moira and Matthew. While I had been walking the road to Lancaster, the three of them had flown from Cantley over the forest, seeking the Ungol village.

  The first phase of their plan had gone smoothly. They had located the village, and with some help from Moira’s manipulative abilities, they had managed to walk into it with very little resistance. Unfortunately, the village was indeed infested, though it was doubtful even the inhabitants were aware of their status as hosts to a machine parasite.

  Matthew had used the Fool’s Tesseract, but had kept the settings conservative to avoid the risk of an explosion in excess of what was desired. The result was a tremendous blast that destroyed the village but didn’t entirely eliminate the machines within it. They had been forced to spend most of the next day scouting and sending out small spellbeasts to make sure they had gotten rid of ANSIS.

  When he had finished, Lynaralla shared her findings from what was now the Dukedom of the Western Isles. Their infiltration had gone without a hitch, though the two-day wait while she communicated their desire to her mother had been nerve wracking for Elaine and the others.

  Aside from telling Lynaralla that they were welcome to take the writings, she also warned her daughter that Tyrion might not be entirely trustworthy. I would have loved to know precisely why she thought that, but a two-day conversation with a She’Har elder was roughly the equivalent of a minute or two of normal conversation. There just hadn’t been time.

  Lynaralla did get the feeling we might find some clues to her mother’s suspicion in the writings they had recovered. I hoped so. I could use some good news.

  After they had finished, I did my best to explain what had happened at Castle Cameron, though I hadn’t been present for most of it. I assumed that Moira would get the rest of the story from Irene while they were together, but I didn’t have the energy to worry about it.

  I was exhausted, not because of any great exertion, but simply because grief does that to a person. Shortly after that, I retired to the bedroom I shared with—the bedroom I used to share with Penny—and curled up on the bed. I wanted to sleep.

  But I could smell the scent of her hair on the pillows.

  “Why did you leave me?” I moaned to the empty air, but of course, there was no reply, nor would there be, ever again.

  ***

  At some point, I slept, and when I opened my eyes again, Penny was staring down at me with sympathy. “You look terrible,” she observed.

  “I’ve had a bad couple of days,” I remarked.

  “You aren’t the only one,” she returned. “I think I got the worst of it.”

  “Want to compare notes?” I said with a hint of a challenge in my voice.

  She laughed. “Sure.”

  I had a good opener already planned. “Tyrion showed up in court. The Queen made him a duke, and he’s already turned some of the other nobles against me.”

  Penny shook her finger from side to side. “That one doesn’t count, since it applies equally to both of us. Your enemies are my enemies.”

  “Oh, right,” I said lamely. “How about this? I think the kids hate me now.”

  “That does sound bad,” said Penny, “but I’m fairly sure they’re mad at me too.”

  “I got in a
fight with Rose.”

  She gave me a look of disapproval. “Oh, Mort, why would you do that?”

  “She started it,” I responded, feeling childish.

  Leaning over, she ruffled my hair with her hand. “I’m sure she will forgive you. She always does. Sometimes I wish you were smarter, though.”

  Something about her touch lifted my spirits and I joked in return, “Sometimes I wish you were dumber.”

  She growled at that, but I distracted her before she could retaliate. “Your turn! I got in a fight with Rose, now tell me something bad that happened to you.”

  Penny looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she reluctantly responded, “I got in a fight with one of those giant metal monsters.”

  “Just one?”

  “Two, as a matter of fact,” she said boldly.

  I grinned. “I feel badly for them.”

  “Your turn,” said Penny, laughing.

  “I got in a fight with three of them,” I boasted. “They’re called ‘tortuses,’ by the way.”

  My wife shook her head, causing her ponytail to bounce to either side. I loved watching the way the light reflected from it. “That doesn’t count,” she replied. “You won.”

  I sat up in bed and gave mocking half-bow. “That’s true. That fight was probably the best part of the day.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I won, but you…” My voice trailed off as I stared at her, remembering. I finished with a whisper, “but you died.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks.

  Her face became sad. “You shouldn’t have remembered that.” And then she began to fade away.

  “No!” I grabbed for her, but there was nothing but emptiness within my arms. I had woken, and I spent the first fifteen minutes of the morning the same way I had spent the last fifteen minutes of the night before, screaming into my pillow as I sobbed hopelessly.

  Epilogue

  A week after the attacks on Castle Cameron, I found myself standing in the courtyard, in approximately the same place where my wife had fought the tortuses. With the keep still in ruins, the final service to say goodbye to my dear Penny had to be held outside, but considering the size of the crowd that was present it was probably for the better.