“We have a problem with Stavin,” he said firmly. “The magic is changing him.”
“How?” Charvil asked.
“It’s making him vicious. And there is at least one physical manifestation as well. His eyes are turning golden.”
“You mean yellow, like a cat?” Charvil asked.
“No, Char. I mean golden, like his armor. His eyes have flecks of gold now that look like they are made of metal. The mental changes are worse, though.” He told them the full story of the fight at Zel’Hestel. “For an instant, I thought he was going to slaughter them all. And from what he said, he almost did.”
“What can we do about it?” Mikal asked as he leaned forward.
“Kar took the sword away for a while, but he has to have a weapon. Char,” he shifted his full attention to the Warmaster, “how long will it take you and Jassel to trim a real Dragon’s Tongue down to Stavin’s size?”
Charvil thought for a moment, then said, “Not long. We could certainly have one ready by morning.”
Barvil nodded. “About what I thought as well. Var has Stavin’s in Twin Bridges with Shari. That’s why he’s not with us, by the way. Stavin assigned him to protect his sister, since someone has to be there to stand up to her.” He grinned at Charvil’s wry expression. “Var and Kahn are about the only people other than Princess Marina and King Kalin who can. And he will, just because he’s her little brother.” Barvil chuckled. “Little brothers are such a pain sometimes.”
“You’d know, considering you are one,” Charvil agreed with a grin. “Very well. Mikal,” he looked at the Chief Elder and bowed, “I should get to work with Jassel.”
Mikal bowed his head. “Very well, Charvil. Don’t just cut down an old ‘Tongue. Make him a new one. We can’t have our prince going out with a beat-up old Dragon’s Tongue. Wouldn’t be proper at all.” Mikal’s smile set the rest of the Elders to laughing, and he adjourned them on that note.
Morning arrived sooner than anyone wanted.
Stavin walked out of his father’s house feeling much better than he had when he’d arrived. Sleeping through the night was part of it, but his mother’s cooking was the biggest part. Marinis had greeted him with the kind of morning meal he’d loved as a child. Venison ham, eggs, and oat porridge with dried elderberries made a warm, comforting lump in his stomach.
“Take care of yourself, Stavin,” she whispered as she hugged him goodbye. “Don’t let the Chosen and their expectations kill you.”
“I’ll be careful, Mom,” he whispered.
“Don’t use that sword anymore unless it’ll mean your death not to,” Karlit said as he clasped hands with his son. “We want you back, not what you fear you’re becoming.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. Dahvin and Barvil are doing their best to keep me out of the fight. I suppose the best thing for me to do is to let them.” He shook his head as a wry smile twisted his lips. “It’s not like I can earn another star.”
Barvil said, “No, you can’t,” from behind Stavin. When Stavin turned toward him, he grinned. “Leave a few for Kar to kill.”
“Yes, sir,” Stavin replied, then smiled as wide as his mouth would go at Barvil’s expression.
Charvil was just a few steps behind Barvil, and he had Jassel Kel’Kaffrey, the valley’s blacksmith, beside him. “We have something for you, Prince Stavin,” Charvil said, but Stavin’s eyes were already locked on the Dragon’s Tongue in Jassel’s hands.
Stavin spoke in a breathy whisper as he asked, “A Dragon’s Tongue?”
“Cut to your measure,” Jassel replied with a bow. “You need something more—mundane—than that sword.”
“Something you know how to use better than just about anyone else,” Charvil continued.
Barvil put the last piece in the puzzle for Stavin. “Something that won’t turn you into a monster.”
Stavin stepped forward and bowed deeply to the smith before accepting the weapon. “You have my thanks, Master Smith. I shall use it with honor.”
Jassel bowed in return once Stavin had the Dragon’s Tongue. “I expect nothing less or more, Prince Stavin.” Then he smiled and stepped back. “Now I’m for bed. We’ve been up all night making that for you. Charvil,” he bowed to the Warmaster, “until tomorrow.”
“Well done, Jassel,” Charvil and Barvil said together. Barvil turned to Stavin and smiled. “Now you and Kar are on an even footing. Maybe he can catch up a little.”
“Ah, so that’s what this is all about,” Karvik said as he and Orana joined them.
Dahvin was right beside him nodding his approval. “Not that I intend to let him into battle if I don’t have to. Remember, Prince Stavin, if you get killed—”
Stavin took a deep breath and bowed his head. “I remember, Dahvin.”
“Remember what?” Orana demanded from under Karvik’s arm.
Dahvin turned toward her and said, “If the prince is killed, the Royal Guards who were supposed to protect him will be killed as well, or take their own lives in shame.” He looked at the Warriors around him. “That’s a leftover from the Farindian Rebellion. The Royal Guards around King Haran should have fought to the last man to protect him, but they didn’t. About seventy of them fled south to Twin Bridges. King Oradan Zel’Andral ordered their execution for failing in their oath to protect the king. It was added to our oath that we would die if we failed in our duty to protect the royal family. And you, my friends,” he looked around, “are all Evandian Royal Guardsmen now.”
There was a hiss of indrawn breath, but it was Orana who broke the silence. “Stavi, you keep your skinny butt in the back! I mean it! I won’t lose my husband because you went and got yourself killed.”
Stavin ducked his head automatically and said, “Yes, Orana,” as a ripple of laughter spread out from them. She sounded far too much like his mother.
“And on that warning note,” Barvil said in a jovial tone, “we should be off.”
There was laughter from all around as the Royal Guards, including the Warriors of Kel’Kavin, mounted up. Stavin held Karvik’s reins as he and Orana shared a final parting kiss. Orana gave Stavin a final warning glare, and he bowed in the saddle. He’d forgotten that he wasn’t just risking his own life, but now he remembered the price his friends could pay for his incautious actions, and resolved to settle down.
Gavlin rode up beside him as they passed through the gates of Kavinston. “I got a full tour of Fort Kel’Kavin, Prince Stavin. That fort could comfortably accommodate three hundred soldiers.”
Stavin nodded. “It has in the past. When the queen sent all five hundred of the Old Guard and their families here, they had to expand to Kavinston to accommodate them.”
“I wonder if King Kalin is planning to re-man the fort. Make it an Evandian Army fort,” Gavlin mused, more to himself than to Stavin, but Stavin answered anyway.
“A Royal Guards fort, you mean,” he said as Gavlin turned toward him. “We discussed it. Fort Kel’Kavin is going to become a training facility for the Royal Guards, under the authority of the Warmaster of Kel’Kavin. Given our performance against the Guards, he thought it would be a good thing to train all of them up to our standards. He actually wanted to bring Barvil and Charvil down to Twin Bridges to do it, but Marina and I convinced him that having the guards isolated where they couldn’t do anything but train was a better idea. The men and women Dahvin brought with Marina proved it.”
Dahvin laughed. “They sure did. Sergeant Zel’Halvis took on three men who had stayed in Twin Bridges and handily whipped them in just a few breaths. They convinced the general that Kavinston was the best place to train, even though they bitched about it the whole time.”
“Whined,” Barvil corrected.
“Close enough,” Dahvin said with an air of patience. “I didn’t enjoy it any more than they did.”
Stavin laughed. It felt good. “I’ll see if we can build an inn for them to drink their sorrows away, Dahvin.”
“Not in the valley,” Barvil im
mediately said, drawing Stavin’s attention. “Your mother and the rest of the women would have your hide if you did.”
Stavin nodded his understanding and a smiled stretched his lips. “The crossroads is only a day’s ride from Kel’Kavin. Maybe there.”
“Maybe,” Barvil agreed, “in a year or three, when things have settled down again.”
It was just before sundown when the Royal Guards rejoined the Pacification Force. They were met by Captain Zel’Kordil of the Fifth Cavalry. “Sir, the prisoner vanished sometime late in the night. His guardian was found with a butcher knife in his back. Captain Zel’Farrin of the Ninth has his men scouring the area, but hasn’t reported any sign of him.”
Colonel Zel’Fordal ground his teeth in frustration, and finally said, “Sound recall. We’ll put the full force out in the morning.”
“No, Colonel,” Stavin said as he stepped forward. “If that traitor wants to run off into the wild lands and die like an animal, let him. Your report of his actions is already in Twin Bridges, and Lord General Zel’Rantal can deal with him if he survives to get home. Don’t waste any more resources on him.”
Gavlin looked Stavin in the eye for a moment, then nodded. “As you wish, Prince Stavin.”
The officers and guardsmen retired for the night. Kahrant’s Pass was fifteen days away at the marching pace of the army.
Chapter 37
THE DAY AFTER THE ATTACK AGAINST Sharindis, King Kalin called all of the Royal Guards who were not on watch to the exercise ground. Once they were assembled, he walked out in front of them. Hisses of surprise rolled through the men and women when they saw that he was in full armor, with the insignia of a major on his breast.
“Good morning,” the king said as he faced his guards. “I called for this assembly for a special reason. Varik Kel’Horval, front and center.” A very nervous looking Varik quickly went to face the king and came to attention. King Kalin smiled and nodded his head. He took a deep breath and said, “Varik Kel’Horval, on this, your first expedition to the lowlands, you have made your first kill, throwing your Dragon’s Tongue to pierce your opponent’s heart. In accordance with the traditions of your ancestors in the Farindian Royal Guard, you may now paint a white chevron on the left shoulder of your armor.” The king smiled and looked behind Varik. “Karvil?” Karvil stepped forward with a small pot in his hand, and the king took it. He carefully painted a chevron on Varik’s shoulder, then handed the paint back to Karvil.
Now Lord General Zel’Kordil stepped up to the king’s side. “Varik Kel’Horval, it is the tradition of the Evandian Royal Guards that any guardsman who, by his direct actions, saves a member of the royal family shall be given an officer’s commission in the Royal Guard. You are the second member of your family to earn that honor. Majors,” he said, looking behind Varik. Two Royal Guards majors stepped forward and placed the short officer’s cape on Varik’s shoulders. “Congratulations, Lieutenant Kel’Horval.”
Varik took two deep breaths before he could finally say, “I thank you for this honor, King Kalin and Lord General Zel’Kordil.”
“And we thank you for the lives of our daughter-in-law and grandchildren,” King Kalin replied.
The general smiled and looked at the men and women behind Varik and nodded. A cheer rolled through the exercise ground as the Royal Guard honored one of their own.
*
It took three days to find Aldus Zel’Sartan. His body was found by a servant who had been sent into a storage room to find out what smelled so bad.
“He was strangled,” Lord General Zel’Kordil reported to the king. “I’d guess about the same time as the traitors attacked the children.”
King Kalin looked at the one Minister he hadn’t suspected, Adept Fel’Banan. “Can you discover anything about them?”
The Adept shook his head. “No, Your Majesty. The traces are there, but they are too muddled to read with any accuracy.”
The king sat very still for a moment, then drew a deep breath. “I need a new Truth Seer.”
“Agreed,” General Zel’Kordil said, “but who? There are just six Truth Seers in the city.”
The king thought for a moment, then sighed. “I know, Marlav,” the king finally said as he shook his head slowly. “I need someone young enough to be comfortable with Marina and Stavin. And strong willed enough to hold his own. I’m not sure if Stavin is having a bad influence on Marina, or she is on him.” He grinned at his old friend. “Aldus was my father’s Truth Seer. I used to be afraid he’d scold me. He was at least as old as my father.”
“There is only one young Truth Seer that I know of, Kalin, and she’s a wild one.” The general smiled at his old friend and shook his head. “She’s currently employed by the city magistrates.”
“Not Firenza Zel’Haltal?” Kalin asked as his eyes widened.
“Yep. The little bitch—um, undisciplined young woman, causes more trouble than she’s worth sometimes, but we’re talking about putting her in with Marina and Stavin. If anybody’s personality could stand up to those two, hers could.”
“They call her Fire-ass, don’t they?” When the general nodded and grinned, Kalin shook his head. “Gods Above protect the kingdom. Marina, Stavin, and Fire-ass. Bring her in.” He grinned at the general. “I’ll let Marina and Shari interview her.”
The general grinned wider as he replied, “Yes, Your Majesty.” Then a low chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he walked away shaking his head.
It only took three spans to find Firenza and bring her to the palace. She was escorted by ten Royal Guardsmen, and from the look on her face they hadn’t told her why she’d been summoned. She was openly surprised when she was escorted to Princess Marina’s suite. “What’s going on? You said the king wanted to see me.”
“This is where we were told to bring you. Now shut up,” the leader of the guardsmen snapped.
Firenza drew herself up to her full height and spoke in Old Tongue as she said, “I am Firenza of the Chosen Clan of Haltal, and you will address me—”
“I am Andel of the Chosen Clan of Fordan,” the leader of the escort snapped in the same language, “and I already know who you are, snip, so put a sock in it. I don’t know why you’re supposed to see the princesses, but this is where you’re supposed to go. Gods Below, I’ve never been around anyone who talks as much as you do. Even my sisters were quiet once in a while.”
Firenza gritted her teeth and glared as the guards at Marina’s door knocked. “Lady Firenza is here to see Princess Marina and Princess Sharindis.”
Marina’s chamberlain bowed and opened the door all the way. “She is expected. This way, Lady Zel’Haltal,” he said as he swept his arm in an arc to show the way. He escorted Firenza to the princess’ sitting room and announced her. “Lady Zel’Haltal is here, Your Highnesses.”
Marina and Shari both stood to greet her, and Marina said, “Welcome.”
Firenza walked forward and stopped to bow deeply three paces from Marina. “You sent for me, Your Highness?”
“Father did,” Marina said as she and Shari sat back down, and she waved toward a chair opposite them for Firenza, “but he asked us to interview you.” When they were all seated, Marina looked straight into Firenza’s eyes and asked, “Firenza, how would you like to be the King’s Truth Seer?”
“Me?” Firenza squeaked in shock. Then she sat forward and asked, “Princess Marina, what happened to Lord Aldus?”
Shari answered. “He was murdered, probably by the same traitors who attacked the children.”
“I heard about that. The Lord Ministers. But why me, Your Highness?”
Marina leaned forward and looked her in the eye again. “Because my father thinks that your personality is strong enough to stand up to the demands of the job, and the stress of dealing with me and Stavin, Fire-ass.”
“What’d you call her?” Shari asked in a shocked tone as she turned toward Marina.
“Fire-ass,” Marina chuckled. “That’s her nickname among the
magistrates.” Marina grinned at the furiously blushing young woman across from her. “You can’t see it, but her hair is about the same color as mountain fireweed, and her temperament is just as volatile. She works with the city Magistrates, and tends to spend almost as much time in front of them as she does at their sides.”
“Your Highness, that’s not fair,” Firenza muttered. “I don’t get in that much trouble.”
Marina picked up a piece of parchment. “Shall I read off the list of complaints against you?”
“Your Highness, it’s my first year away from home. Of course I got into a little mischief.”
Marina snorted. “Mischief? You got into a fight in a bar and sent three men to the Healers, along with doing several gold crowns worth of damage to the bar. In another instance, you snuck into Lord Zel’Jaren’s estate and were caught cavorting with his son.”
“We’re both of age, Your Highness!”
Shari started giggling. “Oh, Gods Above, you are magnificent!”
“Princess?” Firenza asked cautiously.
“You’ll get along fine with Stavin. I approve if you do, Marina.”
“I approved before she got here.” Now Marina turned her attention to Firenza and smiled. “Firenza, you’ll be moving into the palace. And you’ll have to settle down a bit. Not entirely, because you’re going to need every bit of your independent streak to stand up to the Lord Ministers, but no more embarrassing incidents.” She wagged a finger at the younger woman. “If you want to get in a fight with someone, go practice with the Royal Guards.” Marina signaled and two servants stepped forward. “Escort the King’s Truth Seer to her suite. The Palace Chamberlain should have Lord Zel’Sartan’s goods removed by now. Firenza, you have six spans before Court. Dress up a little.”
“All my clothes are—”
“Waiting for you,” Marina interrupted. “I went ahead and had your clothes and servants brought in. I didn’t have any doubts about you.”
Firenza bowed deeply to Marina. “I wish I was as confident as you are, Princess Marina. Princess Sharindis, I am pleased to have met you.” She bowed again to Shari, then let the servants lead her away.
Farindian Summer (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 4) Page 22