Battle Mage

by Tim Niederriter

  She put a hand on Chelka’s shoulder.

  “I know fewer men that would do it after hearing his daughter is to be married.”

  “Thank you, sister,” Chelka said. Her gaze stayed on her father. Water continued to drip from his arms.

  Father shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, sending more water pattering onto the tiles.

  “You all know I make my best decisions in the heat of battle.”

  Chelka bit her lip. Her father could mean anything by that. Zemoy massaged the bent and scarred bridge of his nose.

  “Congratulations Chelka. I’m glad you’ve made up your mind.”

  “Thank you, father. You honor me.” Chelka gripped her rega and bowed in his direction, in part to hide the spreading grin on her face.

  He laughed.

  “My daughter, I am happy with your decision as a true Benisar, and you still bow to me like I am a tyrant. What did I do to deserve these children of mine?” Zemoy beamed and swept his dripping arm over the railing. Drops of water speckled the tiles while others rippled on the water’s surface.

  Mother smiled and walked over to him, offering a hand which he took. Chelka knew her father and mother well enough to guess what each of them was thinking about. Father had approved of Edmath for a long time, but it was Mother who would be the one to plan the wedding. She accepted Edmath after a while, but never quite approved of letting matters go so long untended.

  Hopefully, she didn’t see Edmath as being an inconvenience, which she might. At the moment he had little money, and would never be as wealthy as a tribal royal. Mother should not have to worry about those things. The Benisar family had prospered even more than most within the past few years and Edmath was an imperial Saale.

  “You are very generous parents.” Chelka’s answer to Zemoy’s joke came out sounding strange to her. She had more to say than she could put into words. “Thank you.”

  Mother smiled gently. Father brought his hands together in a loud clap.

  “Very good, now this will keep us busy for a while. Children, your mother and I should speak alone. Be scarce for a bit.”

  “Yes, father.” Bassa took Jeref by the shoulder and the two of them followed Chelka into the tall dock house. Looking over her shoulder, Chelka saw her brother gazing back as well.

  Bassa raised her brows.

  “I’m sure they aren’t talking about anything to trouble you.”

  “For certain.” Chelka swallowed and turned away.

  Her father had not refused the wedding date either. She and Edmath would be married next week, on the first end-day. There was just enough time to get the word out around the city, but most of the guests were already here. A royal princess marrying a man without even a tosh would be gossip to many.

  Chelka walked out into the hallway, wondering if there would be spectators or well-wishers enough for the traditional squid tribe dances. Such celebrations were always so grand back in Sizali. She decided it would be well with or without them. She and Edmath would be together.

  The week before the wedding crawled past Edmath in the steady stream of council meetings. As plans formed for the wedding, Edmath became impatient with some of the council sessions. Wedding planning involved varying groups that always included Sampheli Mierzon and her twirling violet parasol. Of all the reactions Edmath had expected from her, the incredible glowing enthusiasm was more than he’d dared hope for.

  She clearly saw his luck to be marrying a princess. He agreed with her more than he could explain. Of course, the general preparations were also overseen by Lesi Benisar, Chelka’s mother, who quickly found them a garden in the outer palace for Sampheli to perform the ceremony. The current session of the Council of Kings, meanwhile, wound down just before the Festival of Chesh began. As the week went on, Edmath realized that the wedding was going to be a larger event than he first thought.

  Brosk arrived at his room late in the fifth-day afternoon and handed him the guest-list Zemoy Benisar had compiled. The names grew from kings and queens and Imperial Saales to include both other lower emperors and the Saale Hierophant, Nelna Rumenha. The High Emperor had been invited in person by Zemoy, but would most certainly not attend. He rarely oversaw such functions in recent years.

  Edmath marveled at the length and weight of some of the names. The visiting kings and queens of the oceanic tribes were invited of course. Edmath noticed Ahenesrude Naopaor, Brosk’s father, and Semana Nane and her twin Saale Children, Razili and Oresso, as well as Leus Ogusotha, the Oyster King, in particular. The Worm King, Kassel Onoi and the Swan Queen, Gellia Dayull and with her family were listed at the bottom of the page.

  Edmath wondered at the two tribes, so closely tied to each other. Their domains in the center of the empire became one long ago, even before the three warlords united the nations. Edmath lingered on the name of the Worm King, remembering what little he knew of his father who belonged to the same tribe. He’d seen the image of Jurat Donroi’s strange double attack the village of Beliu on Dreamwater through the flame augury and hated to think what it could mean.

  He lowered the list, thinking quickly to change the subject.

  “Say, Brosk, do you think we will need more entertainment? I feel as though these kings and queens will not attend alone and their attendants will need a diversion, you see.” Edmath looked up from the pages before him and grinned playfully. Of all things, he saw Brosk frowning.

  “You may be right.” The whale prince raised his eyebrows. “I know few performers in this city, though, and his Excellency, Emperor Benisar does not seem to consider the entertainment a problem as long as people dance.”

  “Of course, the squid dance. I will look into something for the reception. It would not be right to leave the guests bored after the ceremony and the feast.”

  “Indeed.” Brosk took the guest list from Edmath and grinned suddenly. “I think his highness King Onoi might be able to help us. He travels with a troupe of performers known for their skills in classical comedy and stage drama.”

  “Is that so? I will have to speak with him, and quickly.”

  “Just don’t ask for one of his higher plays. Comedy suits the occasion better, I think.” Brosk turned and started down the hallway outside the room, avoiding a procession of servants going the opposite direction.

  Edmath returned to his room and let the door close behind him. His new rega hung by the shades of his windows, pristine and white. The sash was what marked a royal from a commoner in courts of the kings and emperors of Zel. For his entire life as a Saale, Edmath had worn the black sash of a commoner, an orphan, and now he would be nobility. Everything came together with this. His father’s name would disappear. His future would be provided greater chances and his work honored, and Chelka would be with at the center of his life. He had not planned on this wedding, because it would be too much to hope for, much like the rega hanging by the curtains. Edmath walked to the window and brushed the shade aside. He looked out at the palace grounds where the servants of the visiting kings and queens had set up camp. For the moment he managed to only worried about small things, like finding Kassel Onoi and his actors.

  Edmath found the Worm King by questioning the servants at the gates and taking their directions to a structure called the King’s Dome. Kassel Onoi and his retinue were wandering in the northwest gardens near the monument to the Worm Tribe. That was where Edmath found them.

  The Worm King was accompanied at the time, by no men or women, but instead, by four great identical beasts that Edmath recognized as urliens from his bestiary, the two-armed greater worms created by the tribe’s early Saales as loyal servants and bodyguards many generations ago.

  Urliens had no faces but were covered in heavy scales and fur from halfway up their bodies. Bright crests of long hair emerged from their backs in colors ranging from orange to pale gold. One of the creatures danced around the monument on its large bear-like paws, holding it’s wriggling serpentine tal
e aloft. The Worm King clapped his hands rhythmically in time with the animal’s movements.

  Edmath watched from a distance as it spun and stepped and leapt from claw to claw. The urliens were, of course, a combination animal like the levoths and the Roshi’s miraches, but in this case, were formed from bears and worms. Turning toward Edmath, Kassel Onoi smiled.

  “Do you enjoy this one’s dance?” he said. “I find it rather relaxing to watch, and as a king, I endure enough discord as to seem incredible.”

  Edmath approached Kassel with a chuckle, then dipped his head in a shallow bow.

  “I could have guessed that.”

  “Yes, I bet you could. You are the Imperial Court Saale, Edmath Donroi. I have heard about the excitement in your life already. It’s amazing how much you have been called to do for Zel since you arrived here.”

  Bowing his head, Edmath brushed the edge of his black sash. He knew Kassel was talking about the duel Edmath had fought with Ursar Kiet, but he did not want to talk about it. The scars on his recently recovered hand were still red, fresh, and not fully painless.

  “I feel my research will be fruitful.”

  “Yes, but if you had not fought that man from Roshi, we might be at war now.” Kassel Onoi nodded with satisfaction. “This nation is not ready to lose another generation in open battle.”

  “Was war really that near?”

  “War with Roshi is always near.”

  “Who else is there who would challenge our sovereignty?”

  The Worm King frowned.

  “The world is a larger place than Zel and Roshi, Edmath. There are threats without end.”

  “I take your meaning, your highness. Now I come to you with something less serious on my mind.”

  “What is it, Saale Donroi? I think you are not speaking openly.”

  Edmath lifted his head from the bow he’d held since approaching. The Worm King proved personable. Still, he could become difficult if he did not wish to supply the actors.

  “To be open, then. I am to be married this coming first end-day. I feel the festivities risk being dull for lacking account for the number of servants that will surely accompany the guests my betrothed’s father has suggested.”

  Kassel raised his eyebrows.

  “Married? Then the rest makes sense to me. Between the two of us, I find that Emperor Benisar is rather too interested in food to pay much attention to fun.”

  Edmath smiled as the Worm King chuckled. Zemoy had sent Edmath a vast list of foods that no wedding day should be without earlier that week.

  “You may be right. Of course, this problem could be alleviated if you were to lend me the actors you have among your entourage.”

  Kassel grinned. “Now I see it. How very like your father, you are, Saale Donroi. You see, he rarely spoke directly with me either, even when he was a Saale for my own court twenty-five years ago.”

  “You knew him?” Edmath clenched his hand near his sash.

  “I did. I’m sorry his deeds have caused you trouble. I’m sure he would not have wanted that. I will, of course, allow you to borrow my players. They are skilled in all sorts of performance, though historical comedies are their specialty. They are practicing their art in the southwest gardens at the moment, but I will send word to them to prepare for your celebration.”

  Kassel turned back to the urliens dancing around the Worm Tribe Monument. Edmath watched the odd creature a moment, smiling.

  “To think I’d meet my father’s old master after all these years.”

  “Your parents were more than servants to me, Saale Donroi. I counted them as friends.”

  Edmath glanced at Kassel. The Worm King smiled but kept his gaze on the urlien before them, a hint of sadness visible in his pale blue eyes, eyes, Edmath realized, all too similar to his own. Kassel nodded.

  “I look forward to my formal invitation. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  “And you.” Edmath turned and hurried back down the path from which he’d come, recognizing the Worm King’s hinted desire to be alone. “Your Highness.”

  Edmath walked the path down to the southern gardens, wondering about the Worm King and his father, his father the Worm King’s Saale, the warrior, the dishonorable criminal.

  Edmath did not have a chance to see Chelka early on the day of the wedding. For the past week, they had been together only for moments and only as part of larger groups. He was beginning to miss her by the time he saw her in her white wedding clothes. The end-day was still bright, and the ceremony elegant, but until he saw her, he could not have described her beauty. Her hair was up over her head, unusually pinned in places, and the shadows of the bare skin along her arms and shoulders flowed with life and color.

  Chelka was flanked on either side by her mother and father, while Sampheli Mierzon stood beside Edmath under the great white-flowered tree in the garden’s center. Chelka reached them with a smile lighting her face in the partial shade. Sampheli chanted in the priestly language as Zemoy and Lesi moved off to the side, allowing the rest of the gathered guests to see Edmath and Chelka together. Chanting the words he recognized as the binding rite, Sampheli touched Chelka’s hand and then Edmath’s with the tip of her index finger. She led their hands to each other and completed the ritual of joining.

  “Now that these two lives have been joined,” she intoned in common Zelian. “The words of the youngest of the Zelian siblings come to mind.” Sampheli cleared her throat with a cough. “When we first walk upon the earth, our families, our parents and brothers and sisters are with us, our tribe. When we leave this earth, who then will be with us, but the family we create and also leave behind? He knew that marriage is not out of the necessity of the body, but out of the necessity of the heart. Let us pray that these two young people, dear to us all, never forget those words.”

  She finished speaking, and applause came from all down the garden path. Edmath and Chelka faced each other. He smiled. She glowed. They locked lips. The kiss was long but soft. The two of them broke apart and turned to face the crowd. They stood side by side as claps and cheers resounded.

  Chelka let out a wild whoop and pulled Edmath down the path between the guests by his hand. Edmath grabbed at his glasses with his free hand, to avoid the risk of them being swept off his face by the suddenness of the motion. He barely had time to glance back and see his mother’s beaming, wizened face. The ceremony was over, and Chelka, lovely Chelka, wanted to get to the festivities in a hurry.

  The sun was on the verge of setting when they reached the clear paved courtyard set aside for the squid dance. Chelka and Edmath made it to the center as the crowd formed a ring around them. Individuals unfamiliar with the custom had been briefed in advance.

  Edmath had insisted on that. He had been on the outside once before when he had attended the absent Benisar daughter’s wedding with Chelka. Ten lines formed from the ring on the outside of the circle, advancing toward Chelka and Edmath, who continued their slow circling and occasional moments of faster twisting and turning in the center as the music of the flutists from the Hearth Palace alternately sped and slowed and kept the pace.

  Edmath had a feeling he was getting much wrong. He danced, but not as well as Chelka, of that he was certain. Her enthusiasm graced her entire body and her legs moved in ways that made him want to laugh and kiss her all over again. This night they would be together, and the waiting until dusk would only make it greater for them both. Brosk approached from Edmath’s right at the end of one line of squid dancers. He laughed and threw up both hands as one of Chelka’s legs brushed Edmath’s calf, the cue for him to speed up the pace.

  The dance went on long, and intensely, the precursor to the meal and the play by Kassel Onoi’s actors. By the time they wound down, sweat ran down Edmath’s face and over his glasses. Chelka spiraled slowly down to sit on the smooth paving stones, swinging her arms wide out from herself and laughing as the lines of the other dancers broke up.
Edmath crouched down beside her and offer his hand. As she wrapped her fingers around his, she shook her head, still grinning with the remains of laughter.

  “I suppose this is where I find out I’m dreaming.” She stifled her laughter with another hand. “Ed, you’ve gotten better at this.”

  “Perhaps, dear Chelka, I learned by watching you.”

  “And I dance because of you.” Chelka pulled herself to her feet on his extended hand.

  The crowd of guests, no longer dancing, milled about. They talked among themselves as they prepared for the feast. Servants from the Great Hearth carried tables into the courtyard and arrayed them with the food of the day. The gentle breeze from the south carried the smells of the festival food into the city. Edmath was glad the festival lasted for an entire week. He still wanted to attend it, though obviously, this celebration must be even better.

  The guests began seating themselves as Chelka and Edmath walked between tables, arm in arm, and greeted every group before taking their place at the central table. The sky began to darken as the players provided by the Worm King set up their stage and the musicians piped upon their flutes. The meal set out before them vanished seemingly as quickly as it had appeared. Edmath sipped from a glass of wine throughout the evening. He took it slow. He wanted to remember this night, a night when he could not stop smiling.

  He and Chelka watched as the stage rose up before them, with the actors in their costumes taking up positions even as the floor, lifted from below, carried them higher. The play was to be a historical farce, a light-hearted affair focusing on the time before Zel when the three warlords who had ruled the land had been young and more concerned with love than war. Edmath did not know the play. He had rarely had time for any of the oldest history lessons even before Lexine Park. Everyone knew about the warlords, but Edmath had never heard the deeper legend of their personal lives before.