by AJ Martin
“Why I let Robert remain in such a position... I must be growing soft in my old age.”
“He was of help in securing the North from rebellion all those years ago. But after these events are over, it may be that Lord Robert will outlive his usefulness?”
Arwell smiled. “Perhaps, my old friend. We shall see where the wind blows.” He shook his head. “But we can’t assume Fenzar will fall for your ploy. As pompous as he is, he isn’t stupid.”
“Assuming this Matthias Greenwald keeps up the pace he appears to have so far, then Princess Josephine should keep ahead of them in spite of my redirections and reach Crystal Ember before they can be caught. The question is, what happens when Fenzar makes it there as well?”
Arwell nodded thoughtfully. “Regent Caldur has no love of Mahalia. And he has one thing we do not: leverage against them. He would see Josephine is safe and returned to us, or else he will harbour her in the city until an agreement can be reached with the wizards. That much I am certain of.”
Tiberius nodded. “Then perhaps then the Regent can buy us time.” He paced the room, tucking his thumbs into his belt. “I will gather some of my men and arrange for them to leave with me at first light tomorrow for Olindia. Dragon or not, you will need me there to defend your daughter and negotiate her release from Mahalia’s grip.”
Arwell placed a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “My head swims with the twists and turns of it all. How I long for days when an enemy would simply lob a few boulders at you. All this scheming! Mahalian wizards against their own, some seemingly intending to help me, and the others seeking to tighten their grip on my kingdom.” He shook his head. “There has to be a way to convince Mahalia as a whole as to Josephine’s innocence. She could never be a threat to them. Not my Josephine!”
“Mahalia will only be cowed by a strong hand. They have grown too powerful. Perhaps the time has come, your grace, that we show them our resolve on the matter? That we will not be bullied by them!”
Arwell spluttered with laughter. “You suggest I wage a war against the wizards? Believe me, Rylin, it would give me no greater pleasure at this moment. But to do so would be certain death! Do you know what happened to the last King of Rina to question Mahalia in such a way? Before my ancestors succeeded to the throne?” When Tiberius shook his head, Arwell continued. “Let’s just say that Mahalia made sure that he would never be able to produce an heir with the twisted assets he left him! Then they installed my great, great, great grandfather on the throne, because they knew he would cooperate with them. And so they have left Aralia alone since, as long as we continue to comply.” The king paced to the window, and looked out upon the fields below. “We have had a leash tied around our necks for centuries, and it has only grown tighter.” He shook his head. “It is a collar I have tried subtly to break free of for decades, without success.” He sighed. “But I know one thing for certain. War is not the way of freeing ourselves from its bonds. No, if we are going to find a way out of this, it must be by using diplomacy.”
Tiberius walked up to him and chuckled. “I remember a king that fought off the advances of the Aslemerian Empire with a steely resolve. That brought thousands of the foreign dogs to their knees!”
Arwell snorted. “Many years ago now, when I was a foolish young man,” he retorted. “Before I knew the consequences of taking risks with peoples’ lives. I welcome your advice, my old friend, but were you to know the burden that sits upon my shoulders you would not so readily call for war.” He patted the man on the shoulder. “There must be a way to preserve the peace and save my daughter. Every man has a price and the wizards are no exception.”
Tiberius nodded. “If you say so, Your Grace. I will support you in any direction you will take.”
Arwell smiled. “My most trusted friend. Where would I be without your help?”
“With your head on a spike, if your enemies would have their way!” the man chuckled.
Arwell nodded. “Thankfully, we live in more stable times. Domestically, at least. Now, you must prepare to travel to Olindia. Take... Samuel Clover with you,” he instructed. “He is a skilled negotiator. If anyone can broker a truce with Mahalia, it will be him.” He clenched his hands. “Perhaps I should come with you,” he mused.
“Joseph, you said yourself even your daughter advised against leaving Rina. The truth is we do not know if Josephine will succeed in bringing this dragon to heel. If all this madness is true, then your place is here, defending your realm. Let me deal with Fenzar.” He smiled. “Who knows, if this young wizard has taught Josephine enough, then she may very well be able to deal with him herself.”
Arwell smiled. “That would be a sight I would like to see. And then perhaps we can free ourselves from Mahalian interference, once and for all.”
Maryn
132nd Day of the Cycle, 495 N.E. (New Era)
The light of a dozen or so candles bounced about the walls of the whitewashed little house in which Maryn lived and cast out the dark and dankness of the dreary day outside. Rain beat the windows with a regular tapping, falling in waves upon the red tiled roof. The sky outside was pale and grey, but light enough to provide some natural illumination.
Maryn poured a bubbling concoction from the steaming pewter carafe into a tall, china mug. The scent of peppermint and other mixed herbs filled the room. Delicately she set aside the jug, took the cup in both hands and sipped gratefully at its contents, drawing in the mint aroma with a sigh- refreshing. Idly she moved to the kitchen window and watched the raindrops slide in randomized movements down the distorted glass. She actually quite liked days like this, being inside the house in the warm, with the candles glowing, safe from the torrent outside. The heavens hadn’t let loose on the world this much in many weeks. In a place as cold and wet as Olindia could be, at least this far in land, it was no mean feat they had made it this long without a downpour. It was good for the herbs, she told herself, and contented herself to tending the little shop. There wasn’t really much else to do on a day like this. No one had been in to her shop all day, which was no surprise, really. She wouldn’t set a toe outside in this, let alone a foot!
Her reflection caught in the window and she studied herself momentarily. It had been a while since she had contemplated something as simple as her own face: a mirror was a luxury she had abandoned a long time ago as well as the vanity that required such things. In spite of that, she found herself staring at the ghostly figure in front of her.
“You are growing old,” she whispered to herself dryly, and pawed at her cheek with a hand. Her eyes were drawn from lack of sleep. She had been plagued by bad dreams and it showed. In truth, she looked for all intents and purposes to be no older than a woman in perhaps her thirtieth year. But she could see through that thin veneer to the person beyond. With using the earth power came the added benefit of delayed ageing. She had looked young for many more years than she deserved to, by human standards at least. But now, as with all who wielded such power, time was catching up with her. The more her body grew used to the energy as the years went by, the more her body began to age again. Still, eighty was not a bad age by any means for this all to happen, she supposed. She was lucky to have survived at all given everything she had lived through.
She drew herself out of her daydreams as there was at a knock at the door. With a tut, remembering she had fastened the shop’s door shut against the relentless wind, she set down the drink and wandered through, out of the kitchen and into the hallway. The knock came again as she pushed a red curtain aside and made her way through to the shop front.
“Just a minute!” she called. The knock came again. “I said-” she unfastened the lock and threw open the door. Her heart jumped into her throat as she stared at the man beyond the doorway.
“Matthias!” She exclaimed and took a step back. Her eyes flared bright blue as she stared at the sopping wet wizard, his hair pasted to his forehead, raindrops sidling down his face. She looked quickly, panicked, to the people
behind him. “Luccius?” she acknowledged. The ansuwan nodded to her.
“Can I- that is to say, can we- come in?” Matthias asked. “We need your help.” He shook his head. “I swear I’m not here to hurt you Maryn.”
Stunned and still in shock, she nodded. “O… of course,” she said, and her eyes faded back to their natural colour. She stepped aside to let them through, tidying her hair and brushing her skirt. When they were all inside and dripping on her clean wooden floor, she closed the door.
“Matthias what are you doing here? What…” She stopped, her gaze drawn to the girl in the soldier’s arms. Her eyes opened like saucers. “Oh my gods. It’s Princess Josephine!” She swallowed and raised a hand to her mouth.
Matthias looked to Maryn with confusion “How do you kn-” then, realization dawned on him. “It was you! You were the wise woman who helped her contain her power!” He wiped the water from his nose. “I should have known!”
Maryn shook her head. “What’s happened to her? How did you find me?” She asked. “What are you even doing with her?”
“Please, Maryn, I will tell you everything later. I promise! I will explain, but first, please,” he begged, “you have to help her.”
She swallowed, and nodded. “Of course.” She reached out and felt Josephine’s forehead, and then drew her hand back with a hiss.
“What is it?” Thadius barked. Maryn’s eyes were wide, her brow creased.
“What kind of power did this?” she asked, turning to Matthias.
“She was infected by a necromancer,” Matthias answered.
“That isn’t possible! There aren’t any necromancers! Not any more!”
“I assure you Maryn, there is at least one. I’ll tell you how and why when I can. But all of it can wait.”
“Can you help her?” Thadius asked imploringly.
Maryn shook her head and tapped her lip with a finger. “There’s the problem of filtering out whatever is causing-”
“Answer him!" Can you help?” Matthias repeated fiercely in desperation. She caught his eye for a moment, and her brow creased. She looked from him to the girl. “Yes. Possibly. Probably. But it will not be easy. I’ve never seen this level of petrifaction.” She took a breath and steadied herself. “You,” she looked at Thadius. “Bring the princess in here. Follow me. Quickly!” She beckoned them into the kitchen, where she grasped the mug and the rest of the clutter on the table and gathered them to one side. “Place her here. How long has she been like this?” she asked as she raced back into the shop.
“About four days now, nearly five,” said Luccius.
“That long? It is a wonder she isn’t dead already!” Maryn bellowed through the hallway. She shuffled back in with a cluster of jars and square pots cradled in her arms, and dumped them all by Josephine’s side. “This is a very nasty strain. Very nasty,” she muttered as she dashed about the kitchen. “I’ve seen things like it before, but never as vicious as this. I can feel the dark energy infused in the poison, even by touch. Pestle and mortar, third cupboard to the right,” she instructed, pointing. Luccius dove into action and began rummaging around the cupboards. “It’s an insidious infection,” she said as Luccius handed her the bowl. “It won’t just be attacking her body, but her mind as well.”
“Her mind?” Thadius repeated. “How can it do that?”
“A part of the infector is left behind. It infests the mind like a parasite and feeds off her soul. For her to have survived so long shows just how strong this girl is. And I should know, because I taught her how to be!”
“How can you fight something that attacks your soul?” Luccius asked.
“The mind is the key to its potency. It takes over your thoughts and dreams and then shuts down the body piece by piece when it has completed its work.” She looked up. “A Necromancer, Matthias?”
“That’s right,” he whispered.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me just how a Necromancer has come to walk this world again?”
“Not right now, Maryn, if it’s all the same to you.”
“No, I thought not. Well, however they have, the energy they have used is twisted and nasty. This might not take. Not very easily anyway, but it will give her a fighting chance at the very least. Grind up this.” She handed a chunk of something to Luccius, who held the pestle and mortar clasped in his hands. “Nice to see you again, by the way, Luccius,” she acknowledged as she poured a thick red fluid into a glass, and her brow creased up. “What exactly has happened to your face?”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” he muttered.
“I see. Well I will see what I can do about that once we are finished here. Give it some more oomph man, you’re not going to even dent it the way you’re going!” She brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “It is lucky you brought her to me. I doubt very much anyone else would be able to help her with this.”
“Most other people who practice medicine don’t have the knowledge you do.” Matthias replied.
She held up a finger. “You’re not going to worm your way into my good books by flattery wizard.” She shook her head. “Do you think I can just forget everything?”
“I rather hoped you had,” Matthias said sombrely. “It has been a long time.”
She frowned. “They say time heals old wounds, but this one between us Matthias has become infected and gangrenous. If I could have forgotten what happened I would have, but it is rather engrained on my memory!”
Matthias nodded. “I know. I understand that. I’ve tried to keep an eye on you all these years, find out where you’ve been.”
Maryn shook her head. “I knew it was you. All those wards I put up to stop the Council from finding me again and still someone found a way through them. It had to be you!”
“You found a way to block me recently though,” he commented.
“A new kind of ward I had never thought of trying before,” she advised.
“That explains why I lost track of you,” he replied.
“Yes, and it should have stayed that way! How did you track me down this time?”
“The ‘Ricat Demora’,” Matthias advised. “The lock of hair you gave me…”
“You still carry that around with you?” she asked, surprised.
“You never know when these things may come in useful,” Matthias replied. “I used so much of the power trying the incantation, I almost burnt myself out.”
“Well, lucky for Princess Josephine you did not. Ah!” she exclaimed. “That would also explain the bad dreams I have been having! You’ve caused me sleepless nights! An effect of the echo you pulled from me!” She shook her head. “Luccius have you finished grinding that filium ore?”
“I think so. Is it meant to be…” he paused.
“Meant to be what?” Maryn snapped back.
“Yellow inside?”
“Oh hell!” she cursed. Picking up the pestle, she showered its contents across the floor, and rooted through the contents of a cupboard behind her before she produced another lump of the ore. “Try this one. It should be white inside. The person I bought these off swore to me they were a pure strain! I’ll hang him by his ankles! This is the last time he cons me out of my money!”
Luccius ground up the new lump quickly. “Is this alright?”
“Oh yes, that’s normal. Much better. Pass it here,” she panted, sweating with the rush. He handed over the powder, and she scooped it out and added it to the fluid in the glass. To that she dropped various other herbs and what looked like metal filings, and then placed the glass onto a small stand. “Flame please, Matthias,” she instructed. “You can make yourself useful as well!”
“What? Oh, right.” A small flame materialised, hovering under the stand.
“I want an explanation Matthias! Barging into my shop, my home as wet as a fish. After such a long time and everything that’s happened! And with Josephine, of all people!”
“You’ll get one! I promised, didn’t I?” he snapped.
“Bloody quests,” Maryn grunted, throwing leaves and herbs about the place. “It always starts with a quest! Before you know it, you’re in over your head. Bloody Mahalia and their bloody endless quests!”
“Quests? What quests?” asked Thadius among the barrage of conversations unfolding in front of him.
“You’re a fine one to be talking about quests, Maryn!” Matthias retorted.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” She answered back, inspecting a green-looking gemstone, before plopping it into the mixture.
“You know exactly what I mean!” He continued. “You dragged me into trouble!”
“You didn’t have to follow me!” she rebuffed. She added some more powder and dusted her hands off. “We’ll let that heat for five minutes and then we will see what good it does.” She pressed a hand to Josephine’s cheek. “Poor girl. You didn’t deserve to get caught up in any more trouble.”
“What quests?” Thadius growled, face reddening again.
“I see you are another unsuspecting victim of Mahalia’s plots and schemes? I’m sorry I don’t know your name?” Maryn asked.
“Thadius,” the knight replied. She nodded.
“The quests I speak of Thadius are the ones Mahalia sends its people on that so often involve death and turmoil to all involved!”
Thadius nodded. “Yes, we have seen first hand how Mahalia operates,” he said.
Matthias shook his head. “Not everyone in Mahalia is like that,” he said. “There are movements now that have started up to help women.”
“Small rumblings from a group of people with less backbone than a snake! Heaven forbid a woman could be seen as just as capable as a man in such matters!” she sniffed.
“For the love of the gods you two!” Luccius intervened. “I don’t think now is the time for another argument! Josephine needs our full attention!” He shook his head and his ears waggled anxiously. “Maryn, what Mahalia did to you happened long ago. You know Matthias never agreed with what they did. Why else would he have-”