The Window and the Mirror

by Henry Thomas

  “You just rub it on your skin?”

  “Yes, the salts you do. The oil’s for after.”

  He nodded.

  Joth got himself dressed and headed back around to the front of the inn, and as he passed through the stables he noticed at least a dozen horses all rigged out for light cavalry action, and Bellan the groom flagging him down.

  “Hey, I’ve got your horses tacked and ready, Master! I’d be most pleased if you were to take them with you now. I’m a bit taxed for space, if you understand me rightly, Master. I think I should be mo—”

  “You’ll have to hold on for a moment, Bell. I’ve just to go inside and gather the others.”

  Bell looked flummoxed but just nodded as Joth went past him.

  “What’s all this?” he asked the boy.

  “Magistry. Whole bloody division, look!”

  Magistry? Not by their tack. Reddish brown traces of leather set with bronze medallions and slim upright saddles. Where did that fashion of saddle hail from? The horses were very handsome as well.

  “There was a mage at the head of them too! Weren’t much to look at, to be honest. But who am I to judge, I ask you?”

  “A mage, you say? An Imperator or Alchemist?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  He left the lad there with his question.

  Joth was around the corner and on his way to the great room at the Merry Haymaker.

  In front of the inn were several men, all wearing bastard swords at their hips and helmets on their heads—long, elegantly tailed sallets complete with visors. Some of the helms were polished to a sheen, some left blackened, some others bronzed and golden and burnished bright. Most of them had removed their helms by the time he had walked past them, but a few of the men had simply lifted their visors as they stood at their leisure. They all wore a dark coat cut from the same cloth embroidered with a livery badge of some device that Joth was not familiar with. A lion and a tree and some other device, like an eye or some such. He went through the door and saw a short, slight man in dark austere clothing talking to the innkeeper at the bar toward the back of the room, and several more of the cavalry men from outside standing behind him and the staff looking quite nervous and ill at ease, to Joth’s eyes. Eilyth and Ryla Dierns were sat at a table in the center of the room. He made his way to them.

  “Interesting development, Shiny. Wouldn’t you say?” The captain grinned at him unabashedly. He could not stop picturing her as he had seen her outside of the stews. It made him embarrassed to think about it as he stood there before them both.

  “May I sit?”

  She motioned for him to do so. “Seems we have other Magistry business here in Grannock to attend to.”

  Joth did not like her tone. “You said you’d take us to Twinton. That’s the pact we made.”

  “Relax, sweet boy, I only tease you.” Her eyes never left his. How Eilyth felt about Ryla Dierns he did not know. She sat and watched the scene seemingly impassively, but Joth knew better. He knew she was taking in more than she was letting on. He met her eyes and stared for what he felt was too long, but somehow he could not look away, nor could she. She knew something that she was not saying.

  Ryla Dierns was about to interrupt them when a high-pitched, rather jilting voice cracked out through the great room. “Ah! An airship’s crew! What a fortunate coincidence.” The short balding man in the austere clothing was pacing toward their table slowly, purposefully.

  “I am Mage Alchemist Norden, and I shall have to requisition your airship for my own transport.”

  Captain Ryla Dierns did not miss a beat. She laughed and said, “I’m afraid we are already about Magistry business and we must respectfully decline service to you, my lord mage.”

  “Oh?” he said curiously, “I’m sure my authority supercedes your orders, whomever they come from.” He said it somewhat haughtily as he challenged the captain with a look. “I’m on a special assignment for the High Mage, and I’ll have you know that I have the highest authority in terms of allowance and requisitioning of materials for travel expediency, and I’ll also have you know that I always get my way, no matter what else transpires. Do you understand me?”

  His squealing register was somehow threatening and dark.

  Ryla Dierns and Eilyth seemed to sense the darkness as well. They met his eyes with uneasy gazes. The short man, Mage Alchemist Norden, simply looked on before nodding his head and saying, “Very well, very well.”

  Joth looked from the captain to Eilyth and realized that all of them had been taken by surprise. Joth thought of his writ and Wat’s assertion of Lord Uhlmet’s power, but now he was faced with a mage who held a command that technically outranked Lord Uhlmet’s, if what he was saying was true about being on assignment for the High Mage. “Officially speaking, I’m afraid none of you are to leave until we have resolved this issue. I’m terribly sorry.” He smiled, and it seemed that in his smile Joth found complete disingenuousness. Mage Alchemist Norden turned away and went back to the innkeeper, obviously pleased with himself. It appeared that they had no choice in the matter; they would now wait upon the pleasure of the mage.

  Eighteen

  There isn’t a way of talking out of it.” Ryla stood near the window and looked out onto the cobbled street where the short Mage Norden stood speaking to the foreign cavalry captain. “He means to have my ship and he ‘always gets his way,’” she added mockingly.

  “Yes, but he can’t just take your ship! I have a writ.”

  She looked at Joth and then to Eilyth. The quarters were close and they were stood in Ryla Dierns’ room so that they would not be overheard speaking by the mage or his cronies.

  “I have been meaning to speak to you about that. Your writ.”

  “What about it?”

  “Well, no offense, Shiny—but it’s rather vague.”

  “Vague? Lady captain, my commander gave me those orders.”

  “Yes, your commander. Mage Imperator Rhael Lord Uhlmet?”

  “Lord Uhlmet gave Wat the orders and he gave them to me.”

  “So you are bringing this girl back for him, then? You are his prize, Pretty?” She switched her attention to Eilyth.

  “Lady Eilyth is no prize, and my orders aren’t your concern—”

  “They’re my bloody concern if it involves my ship and my crew!” She had raised her voice and there was fire in her eyes. “You’ll tell me now what you’re all about, the two of you; and you’ll tell me how I can find Lord bloody Uhlmet.”

  “Uhlmet? What does he have to do with any of this?”

  “Yes, that is an interesting question; it’s one I’d like you to answer for me.”

  Joth looked from the captain to Eilyth. “I don’t understand what you’re after.”

  She looked at both of them for a long moment as if she was trying to decide whether or not they were lying to her. “I know you are trying to protect her, and I know that you are under orders to take her to Twinton. Why? What does Uhlmet stand to gain from this, and why has he ordered you to escort her? I want answers.”

  “Why should we make you privy to—”

  Eilyth interrupted him. “It is fine to tell her what she wants to know, Joth.”

  “Lady, please.”

  “Go on then, she gave you her approval. I’m all ears, look at me,” Ryla Dierns said.

  Joth looked at the airship captain for a long beat. “You tell her then, lady.”

  Eilyth nodded and stood from the bed where she was sitting. “My father is the Elder of the People. He has sent me to seek an audience with the High Mage in hopes of preventing a war between your people and mine. Joth Andries is my guide and protector, but he is also my hostage. Our warriors defeated the mage and his soldiers in battle. My father is holding Lord Uhlmet and Commander Watron Kine as sureties for my safe conduct.”

 
Even though he knew what he was, he felt strange hearing it aloud.

  Ryla Dierns blinked once. “So you are seeking the High Mage, and this writ is just a straw horse to get you there. That explains its vague nature. Your warriors engaged Magistry troops?” She whistled and leaned against the window frame. “War then? The bloody tribes are going to unite and invade Oesteria? That seems a foolish idea. The Magistry will not blink their eyes at such a threat. What do you hope to gain?”

  Eilyth just looked at her evenly as she continued.

  “Threats and hostages, one real outcome. Someone will be paid and someone will be dead. How much does your father hope to get for Lord Uhlmet’s ransom?”

  Eilyth shook her head slightly. “You mistake my people for yours. We do not seek material gain.”

  “Then you’re in the wrong business to be ransoming prisoners.”

  “Not when the ransom brings justice.”

  “Justice?” Ryla Dierns said it slowly, as though she were savoring the word and the very ideal it represented. “How does this ransom serve justice, Pretty?”

  “It serves justice by allowing our voices to be heard by the High Mage of Oesteria.”

  Ryla smiled. “You’re not going to give him back, are you?”

  “Lord Uhlmet must answer for his crimes against my people—no amount of money will change that.” Eilyth said it finally with great weight.

  “I have a better plan.” She examined her fingernails silently for a long moment. “I’ll help you get to Twinton, as agreed. We shall throw this jackal Norden off of our trail, slip out in the night and make it to the Skyward and be up and away before any of them’s the wiser. That shall be easy enough. Then you’ll have cakes and ale with the High Mage and I’ll fly you back to your father. Sounds like a dream, doesn’t it?”

  Joth could not figure where she was taking this, or what her stake in it might be.

  She went on. “Here’s the catch, if you can even call it that: you never mention Uhlmet. Not to the High Mage, not to Norden, not to anyone. You fail to mention that part. In fact, you don’t even know if he’s alive. He’s lost for all you know, he is in charge of another Company, whatever; and when I take you back you give him to me.”

  “But my writ has his name on it. We’ll need that to gain audience.”

  “We can have that amended.” Ryla was looking at Joth like he was a fool. “It sometimes helps profits when one is good at adjusting trade duty invoices.”

  “You would have us give you Lord Uhlmet as payment?”

  “Yes, I most certainly would.”

  Eilyth narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  She paused for a long time, and when she spoke it was careful and measured. “Because I will see him hanged for the crimes of rape and murder that I witnessed with my own eyes and body nearly twenty years ago.”

  “My father will hear you, you may ask him. Uhlmet is a prisoner of the People, it is not for me to decide.” Eilyth was looking at the other woman and she spoke compassionately, saying “You are strong, to have endured such things. I am sorry for your pain and I will speak to my father on your behalf, but I can promise you no more. Uhlmet must answer for his crimes, and he shall answer for all of them. That I can promise you.”

  “I would be there on that day.” Ryla held Eilyth’s eyes for a long moment. “That is what I wish for with every fiber in my being.”

  Joth looked toward the door as he heard people passing outside in the hall. “Can we count on your help to Twinton and back then?” he asked in low tones.

  “Yes. You can count on it.” Ryla looked out the window once again. “We’ll watch this lot bed down and keep everything light and friendly with them tonight and then slip out easy-like, two by two. I’ll tell the crew later so the bloody fools won’t give us away.”

  “What of the horses?” Eilyth asked.

  “No horses, I’m afraid. Though it might be a good idea to turn theirs out.”

  Eilyth looked as though she might balk at the idea of leaving Aila there, but she simply nodded and looked down. Ryla Dierns walked past them both and paused before opening the door. “You’d best hope this works, because the idea of going anywhere with Mage Alchemist Norden appeals little to me.” She went into the hall and closed the door behind her, leaving he and Eilyth there.

  “You sensed this coming somehow, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did,” Eilyth answered quietly.

  “Then if you’ve seen something or know something say it!” He had not meant to raise his voice.

  “It does not work that way.” She remained quiet. “It only serves to warn, to be at attention. The future itself is too changeable to know.”

  He stalked over to the window and looked down to the street below. A girl carried water away from the well in a bucket. “Forgive me, lady, it’s just that I don’t know where we stand with that woman now. How can we be sure she isn’t going to march downstairs and tell that mage that you are the princess of the Dawn Tribe and have us all carted off in chains?”

  She laughed. “We do not have princesses.”

  “You know my meaning, though. We don’t know if anything she’s told us is true.”

  “It is true. I saw in her eyes that it was true.”

  He had, too. He knew that the airship captain was not lying. “I just worry, lady. I worry about trusting her, especially if vengeance is her guiding force. What if she tries to use you to lever Uhlmet away from your father’s hold?”

  “It is good to be careful, Joth. But one must also trust people at their word. Some things we cannot know or change. Some things are always hidden and always shapeless until the moments when they form.” She smiled at him then. “Some things.”

  He smiled as best he could and tried not to worry. It seemed risky to become embroiled in some sort of escape plan with these unlikely allies, but he could not argue that the airship and its rapid transport was a golden asset to their cause. They had come one week’s ride in a day! That was incredible, especially if Joth thought about being able to travel for four days and covering the same amount of ground one would cover in a month’s time on horseback. That the airship captain and crew were onside with them was monumental in terms of achieving objectives in a timely manner, Joth reminded himself. The gruff old master bowyer, whose name was Joth as well, used to always tell him, “Tradesmen sometimes don’t like the traders they trade with,” and he would use the phrase to describe any situation that left a person feeling half satisfied as they were going into it. Turns out the old master had been correct.

  “There’s one thing she said that I can completely agree with without reservation.”

  “Yes?”

  “The idea of going anywhere with Mage Alchemist Norden doesn’t appeal to me either.”

  She nodded affirmatively. “Nor I, Joth Andries. Nor I.”

  Nineteen

  Rhael could scarcely believe how stupid people could be when they had hope in their hearts. It was the thirteenth trip he had made from the cells to the orb tower, and every time they had fallen for his ruse.

  “Quickly!” he had said, barely containing his own mirth. “I’ve overpowered the guards! There is a portal, a magic portal that will take you to the surface! Follow me!” Some of the prisoners had not understood Oestersh. Their skin was a strange color that he had not seen before. They were not deeply browned like the Southeasterners that traded with the Oestermen in the eastern cities; they were fairer skinned but still darker than Rhael. They regarded him with some trepidation, but most were so weak and enthused by the thought of rescue that they simply followed him regardless of the words he spoke. His favorite moment had been corralling eight inside the tower as the door panels breathed and saying, “I’ve just forgotten my cat in the cell. I’ll be right back.” He watched their incredulous looks as the panels closed and then listened to their screams as the bolts arced o
ut and captured their life energies inside the dark orb that he collected and used to burn their bodies to ash.

  He had pieced together a raggedy outfit from his victims’ wardrobe, and although the clothes were putrid and coarsely made he felt glad to have clothes on again. It also made it easier to get the others to follow him. His routine was getting tiresome now after two days had passed, but the prisons had been completely cleared and he was holding thirteen orbs brimming with power. He had repurposed a leather milk skin to hold the dense dark spheres that he had created out of the prisoners, and now he hefted it over his shoulder, held aloft the blue Goblincraft lantern, and made his way past the orb tower. The Kuilbolts working the prisons had been the first to go, and he had worked as quickly as he could to learn to operate the strange machinery that lowered and elevated the cell doors. Some of the cells had been empty, some of them full, but he had gathered groups of people and herded them with his lies to harvest their life energies and trap them inside the magic orbs. Then he could manipulate their energies with his own mind.

  As he peered into the leather sack and saw all of the orbs shimmering there in the blue light. Most folk would see glass, but he saw kingdoms. He saw an empire. Nothing could stand against him. The Kuilbolts had tried and failed miserably. The warriors had provided some excitement, he had not expected the bronze-plate-clad creatures to storm into the prisons, but they had come leaping and thrusting, slashing. He realized somewhere in his mind that some Kuilbolt must have made it out alive and alerted others through their alien chain of command. One of them had been wielding an orb like his own, but he had sent a flurry of lightning bolts through the entire brigade and killed them all. They had been so tightly packed that it had been easy for the electricity to jump from one victim to the next. There had been one hundred and fifty of the warriors including their orb wielding commander, and he had laid them out dead in two heartbeats.