Mordecai

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Mordecai Page 42

by Michael G. Manning


  Washbrook alone accounted for nearly a thousand attendees, and that was just the locals. The Queen herself was in attendance, along with a considerable number of major and minor peers of the realm. Even King Nicholas of Gododdin and the newly crowned King Gerold of Dunbar were present.

  Nicholas in particular had always had a soft spot for my wife, ever since she had saved his life from an assassin’s blade many years before.

  It wasn’t all for Penny, of course. Walter Prathion had already been laid to rest, but the memorial service included a portion for him, as well as the men and women who had died in the recent attack. But in my heart, I knew the truth: At least half the crowd wouldn’t have been there if Penny weren’t among the fallen.

  Speeches were given, and unlike some funerals I had been to for notable figures, I knew for a fact that those who spoke were honestly grieving. I myself gave a short speech for Walter, but when it came to my wife, my throat closed and the words refused to leave my lips.

  But the Queen spoke for Penny, as did King Nicholas, and King Gerold, relaying their sincere gratitude for her service to each of them. My children were too distraught to take a turn in front of the crowd, but many others did so. I watched them and listened, but I still couldn’t believe it was happening. Numb to everything, I found myself a silent witness to the greatest tragedy of my life.

  Until Rose Thornbear took her place to speak on her friend’s behalf. As ever, she was the picture of an ideal lady, managing even to outshine the Queen despite her somber black dress. Her legendary self-control served her well, as she calmly faced the crowd. And then she spoke, “The Countess di’ Cameron was my closest friend. Penelope was a second mother to my son and…”

  Rose’s voice stopped, and she appeared to be struggling, as though she was choking. And then her façade crumbled. Her son, Gram, led her away, crying publicly. The only other time I could remember seeing her so undone by a funeral was when Dorian had died.

  Then my mother, Meredith Eldridge, stepped forward to say her goodbyes. She was old, frail, and uncomfortable in front of such a great press of people, but my mother’s pride of spirit refused to allow that to stop her. The sound of her voice pierced my numb heart, and tears began to fall before she finished her first sentence.

  “Penelope Illeniel was my daughter-in-law, but I could not have been prouder of her if she were my own flesh and blood,” began Meredith. “I don’t know much about courtly ways or great deeds. I come from common-stock, just as she did, but no one possessed a nobler spirit than did our dear Penny. Many of you knew her as the Countess di’ Cameron, and some of you knew her as a warrior, but while she excelled in those roles, what I loved her for was the care she showed to both my son and my grandchildren.

  “There was no finer mother, no better wife, to be found in this world. She cared for her family with a passion that knew no limits, protected them with a fierceness that couldn’t be denied, and loved us with a heart that knew no bounds. I have thanked the stars for her every day since the day she chose my son to share her love with.”

  The rest of the day was a misery. A large dinner was held in honor of Penny and Walter, and since I had no facilities to host it, the Queen had offered up the palace for it. Once the funeral was over, the important figures were taken there via teleport circles. The worst part was that I was required to go with them. When royalty attended the funeral for your family, some acknowledgement was required, even if they didn’t demand it from you themselves. I sat through a long dinner with Ariadne and the other notables, but I wanted nothing more than to run away, to hide myself somewhere where I could grieve in peace, unobserved.

  Ariadne understood this, and she did her best to keep my family’s participation as short and painless as possible. My children escaped after less than an hour, and I made my excuses a half an hour after that.

  Consequently, I found myself walking alone down the long hall that led from the central portion of the palace to the front gate, and I was glad for the solitude. I had no idea where I was headed and didn’t really care. If I had intended to go home, I would have made my way to the Queen’s portal to my house.

  “Mordecai.”

  It was Rose. I hadn’t spoken with her since that day in the throne room, not because I was angry—I had gotten over that—but simply because I was hurting too much. Gram had been the one to notify her and the Queen about Penny’s death. This was our first private moment in almost a week.

  I turned to her with dead eyes. “Yeah?”

  My cold response earned me a faint frown, but she pushed that aside. “How are you?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t be like this, Mordecai. You were there for me when I lost Dorian. I know what you’re going through—”

  I put as much sincerity into my words as I could as I interrupted her, “I appreciate that, Rose. I just need time. Alone.” I should have hugged her, thanked her, opened up, but I didn’t have it in me. I felt dead inside. Without waiting for her to reply, I turned and started walking away.

  “Mordecai!” she called, raising her voice. “We need to talk. There are other things we can’t ignore.”

  I turned back. “Such as?”

  “The Queen has requested my presence in the capital for an extended period, due to the recent attack. I won’t be able to return to Cameron for a while,” she informed me.

  Lady Rose was more formally known as Lady Hightower. Her hereditary duty as ‘The Hightower’ was overseeing the royal guard and the defense of Albamarl. Given the recent attack, it made perfect sense she would need to spend time in the capital, but there was something more in her eyes as she told me that.

  I simply nodded, accepting her statement.

  “Given Tyrion’s sudden entrance into politics, I think my presence here may be of more value to us anyway,” she continued. “Things are moving, and we need to understand his motivations better.”

  Us? What significance such a small word held. ‘Us’ represented my small group of friends and family. Over the nearly thirty years I had known Rose, ‘us’ had changed a lot. Originally it had been me, Marcus, Penny, Dorian, and Rose. That had been us—our little faction, out to save the world. If I hadn’t been deep in the throes of grief and depression, I might have admitted to myself that ‘us’ now included a lot more people, like the Queen, our children, even Cyhan and Chad.

  But the shadow over my heart wasn’t in the mood to be so magnanimous. Just then all I could see was that ‘us’ had been steadily shrinking. All that was left of our original ‘us’ was Mordecai and Rose. And Mordecai didn’t want to play anymore.

  “Us?” I said angrily. “There is no us.” Rose flinched as I said it, and I knew why, but at that moment I didn’t particularly care. I wanted to hurt someone. “Us is gone. It disappeared when Penny died. Marcus is dead, Dorian is gone—there is no ‘us’ anymore. Get over it. Move on. Your husband has been dead for over a decade now.”

  Rose’s face had gone pale at my words, and I would have said more, would have wounded her even more deeply, but from somewhere inside a voice in my mind warned me, That’s enough, Mort! Don’t you dare take your pain out on her!

  Her shock didn’t last long. Rose lifted her chin and glared at me. “I realize you’re grieving, Mordecai, but that doesn’t give you the right to say whatever you please.”

  I was already beginning to feel bad for lashing out at her, but I wasn’t ready to let down my guard. “You’re right, as usual. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to be alone.”

  She didn’t try to stop me as I walked away this time.

  ***

  Three days later I was sitting at the edge of the forest, just beyond the cleared fields that surrounded what was left of Castle Cameron. A stranger might have thought I was enjoying the shade, but I wasn’t really enjoying much of anything anymore. There were sheep in the field, grazing, part of my agreement with the local shepherds to help keep the area around the castle clear. I watched them slo
wly cropping the grass without really seeing them at all.

  “This is where ye been the last few days?”

  It was Chad Grayson. He had been quietly approaching through the forest. If it hadn’t been for my magesight, I never would have known he was there. “What do you want?”

  “I been expectin’ ye to show up at the Muddy Pig for the last three days to drown yer sorrows. I didn’t think to look for ye out here, lustin’ after sheep. It’s a little soon, don’t ye think?” he responded, ignoring my question.

  “No one asked you to look for me.”

  “Now that’s no way to talk to a friend,” grumbled Chad. “An’ here I been holdin’ a seat for ye at the tavern every night. You have any idea how much work it is, gettin’ drunk every night tryin’ to console a fellow who ain’t even there?”

  I gave him a surly stare. “You know I avoid drinking too much.”

  Chad grinned, pulling out a bottle of McDaniel’s finest. “I’m thinkin’ times like this are when ye need to let yer hair down, little girl.”

  I looked away from him, hiding my face. It was hard to avoid a smirk when faced with the hunter’s infectious enthusiasm for the bottle in his hand. “Getting drunk isn’t an option for me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You know why. If I get too drunk, things are liable to start breaking: buildings, trees, innocent people, that sort of thing,” I answered.

  Chad snorted. “Ain’t no buildings out here, an’ them trees been givin’ me the eye for years. They deserve what they get.”

  “There are people,” I responded. “Unless I’ve started talking to myself again.”

  The hunter unstopped the bottle. “I’ll grant you that one. There’s people here, but no decent people, and fer damn sure no innocent ones.”

  I grunted, then accepted the bottle, trying not to choke as I took a long pull. “That’s true.” I passed the bottle back to him so he could join me.

  We passed the bottle back and forth for a while, until the world took on fuzzy edges and my head began to swim. “What happened with Tyrion that day, in the tavern? When I left it looked like you were planning to get him blind drunk and leave him in a gutter somewhere. I didn’t expect him to show up at the palace in Albamarl.”

  “He gave ye a hard time, eh?”

  I nodded. “You could say that. So many things went wrong that day. I kind of felt like you let me down.”

  “Well, I’m a little embarrassed about it myself. I kept that mean bastard drinkin’ until I figured he was about ready to pass out, and then he just up and walked out, sober as ye please! Never seen anythin’ like it,” admitted the huntsman.

  Then I understood. I wouldn’t have dreamed of using my abilities in such a dangerous fashion, not while drunk, but apparently Tyrion didn’t mind taking risks. He must have reset his body to a sober state when he was ready to leave.

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” I consoled him. “I don’t think he was fighting fair.”

  “Fuckin’ wizards,” swore Chad.

  Well, archmages, I silently corrected, but the distinction was academic for most people. I took another drink, and then lay down in the grass. My balance seemed better closer to the ground.

  After a few minutes Chad spoke again, “I think yer kids are worried about you. A decent man would grieve by gettin’ drunk so he could be hungover at home durin’ the day for his family.”

  That line was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I thought we already established there were no decent men here. Besides, that’s your way of dealing with your problems.” After a second I added, “Did they send you looking for me?”

  Chad sneered, “Do I look like a fuckin’ nanny?”

  I tried to imagine the sort of family that would think of hiring Chad Grayson to watch their children and began laughing again.

  Chad laughed with me. “That’s what I thought.” Then he added, “I heard the Thornbears are movin’ out; headin’ back to the capital.”

  “Yeah.”

  “An’ that’s alright with you?”

  “None of my business,” I responded. “Lady Hightower owes fealty directly to the crown, not to me.”

  “Elise don’t,” countered the hunter, “an’ Gram was knighted by…” His words trailed off as he realized what he had been about to say. “Anyway, he owes fealty to you.”

  “What’s your point?” I growled. “You think I should hold an old woman hostage to keep Lady Rose here? Or Gram? It’s not like I’m desperate for men-at-arms.”

  “Yer such a fool sometimes,” said Chad. “Lady Rose leaves, takes her mother-in-law and son, and before long Gram will be asking to take service with the Queen. Next thing ye know and Alyssa’s there with him, an’ where she goes Sir Cyhan won’t be far behind. How many people are ye willin’ to give up?”

  “I’m a count, not a prison warden.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. From what I heard, Tyrion and Gareth Gaelyn are both spendin’ a lot of time in the capital, makin’ nice to the Queen, an’ neither one of ‘em is particularly fond of you. Hell, your own son, Conall, is the Queen’s Champion now. He’ll probably be movin’ out too.”

  I sobered up enough to give him a flat stare. “We all serve the Queen, and Ariadne is my cousin. This isn’t a war. We’re all on the same side.”

  “Spoken like a true political genius, ye dumb fuckwit!” spat Chad.

  From anyone else those words would have made me angry, but from Chad Grayson it was more like a warm hug. “I never claimed to be a political genius, and I don’t give a damn about politics anyway, not anymore.”

  “What about yer family?”

  I glared at him. “What does that mean?”

  “Think it through. Everyone starts leavin’ for the capital, meanwhile you’re here, spreadin’ cheer and joy wherever you go. How long before two of yer other three kids find somewhere else to be? Before you know it, it’s just you and Irene sittin’ around the fire together, tellin’ sad stories to one another about the good ol’ days,” explained the hunter.

  “I think you’re getting a little far afield with your speculation,” I commented. “And why Irene?”

  “Cuz out of all of ‘em she’s the only one that’s as fucked up as you. That an’ she’s feelin’ guilty about her momma. She’ll be the one to stay home to take care of her broken down ol’ daddy, if only out of a sense of duty,” said Chad.

  I growled, “Watch your mouth, that’s my daughter.”

  “First sensible thing ye’ve said,” remarked Chad. “You almost sound like a father, but I’ll be damned if what I said ain’t the truth! Keep goin’ like you are and someday she’ll be followin’ you around, wipin’ the drool off yer chin. What kind of miserable life is that for a girl?”

  “Then what do you suggest I do?” I was getting annoyed by the constant lecturing.

  He cursed at me, “Go tell Rose not to move to the capital, ye slackwit! What did you think I was tryin’ to tell you?”

  “Oh,” I said, somewhat stupidly. “I thought you were saying I should start getting drunk in the tavern with you every night.”

  Chad shrugged. “Well, that too. There’s a lot of people grievin’ right now. You might as well drink with ‘em.”

  I chuckled. “You know, for all your abrasiveness, I can’t help but think you’re telling me all the same things my mother would say.”

  “Ha! Only if yer mother was a drunken wh—” He stopped suddenly when he saw the warning in my eyes. “Well, you know what I mean.”

  Staggering, I got to my feet and promptly tried to fall over. Chad caught me, lending me the use of his shoulder. He wasn’t half as drunk as I was.

  We stumbled across the pasture, mainly due to my lack of coordination, while Chad helpfully pointed out sheep, giving them ridiculous names and making suggestions about which might keep me company in the future.

  I laughed and snickered along with him, and for the first time in a week and a half I felt vaguely human. Dr
unk, true, but human.

  “Now, what are ye gonna do when we get back to the castle?” asked Chad.

  “Tell Rose to stay,” I recited dutifully.

  “Good, an’ after that?”

  “Get you a dragon!” I said cheerfully.

  The hunter frowned, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?” I asked blearily.

  Chad patted my shoulder. “Not sure you’ve noticed my friend, but yer drunk.”

  “Whatever,” I mumbled. “I’m getting you one. You need a companion.”

  “Like a hole in my head,” returned the hunter.

  “Seriously, they’re better than sheep,” I told him with a snort. “Trust me!”

  He slipped, and we both wound up on our asses. After another laughing fit he surrendered, “Fine. I’ll take a dragon. But what about after that?”

  “We tell Rose not to leave.”

  “We already said that!” said Chad. “After Rose, an’ after the dragon, what’ll you do tomorrow?”

  I sat there for a moment, and then my voice grew more serious. “I’ll start reading the She’Har writings that Lynaralla brought back. I need to learn as much as I can if I’m going to stop ANSIS and fix whatever the She’Har did to the world thousands of years ago.”

  Chad grinned. “I was hopin’ you’d say that.”

  “You knew about the She’Har writing sculptures?” Now I was genuinely confused, since I was pretty sure I hadn’t told anyone about them.

  “No,” said the ranger. “I don’t have a damn clue what yer talkin’ about. I just wanted to hear you say somethin’ that sounded like ye have a purpose.”

  “Oh, well I guess I do,” I agreed.

  Then he added something under his breath. It was hard to make out, but I could hear bitterness in his voice. It sounded as though he said, “Otherwise ye’ll wind up like me.”

  I didn’t know much about Chad Grayson’s checkered past, but pondering the mystery brought another question to my mind. “Hey. How long have you and Danae been—so close?”

 

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