In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords)

by Tatum, David A

  “Euly! I didn’t know you were going to be back today,” he cried, getting up on a peg leg.

  The old man threw his arms around her in a fatherly hug. “You could stand to put some meat on those bones, but you look healthy enough for a girl that’s been out of town for a few months. Did you ever find a guide for crossing the mountains?”

  “Him,” she said, jerking her thumb at Maelgyn. That startled him, for he hadn’t agreed to anything as far as he knew. In fact, he hadn’t thought he would be seeing her after getting to the ferry. Apparently, however, when she said she was following Maelgyn she wasn’t kidding.

  The old soldier looked Maelgyn up and down. “Well, I guess you’ll do, sonny.”

  It was then Maelgyn knew the man was exactly the veteran Euleilla claimed. Maelgyn had seen a portrait in Largo Castle dedicated to him. It had been commissioned as an apology, of sorts, for the actions of a previous, particularly boorish Sword of the realm. That Sword had unceremoniously dismissed four heroes from the early stages of the war, claiming their war injuries made them “unusable” whatever their past actions. When that Sword was later deposed, three of these heroes had been found, their pensions restored and their status acknowledged with peerages and similar rewards. The fourth was believed to have been dead, but that had never been confirmed.

  “Admiral Ruznak?”

  The old man’s eyes widened. “It’s been a long time since anyone recognized me for my military service, boy, but I was never more than a captain.”

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken there, sir,” Maelgyn noted. “Sword Prince Alphor, Prince Wybert’s father and predecessor, promoted you, uh, ‘posthumously’ after a search of the kingdom turned up no trace of you. That was almost fifty years ago, sir.”

  “Heh,” Ruznak snorted. “I ain’t dead, yet.”

  “They thought you were,” Maelgyn replied. “But the promotion is valid, nonetheless. What Sword Pennyweaver did to you and the other veterans in the war was a travesty, sir, but upon his death his successors and the other Swords in the kingdom did everything they could to make it up to you.”

  “Bygones, sir, just bygones,” Ruznak laughed bitterly. “Pennyweaver was a louse, but I knew most of the rest of his kin were good enough folk. That’s why I fought for them in the first place.” The old soldier’s stare became even more penetrating. “So, what can an old innkeeper like me be doing for a Sword of the Realm, my boy?”

  Maelgyn blinked in surprise. “How did you...”

  Once again, Ruznak laughed – this time a much happier sound. “Let’s just say you strongly resemble a certain ancestor of yours I was once proud to call a friend and leave it at that. Now, on to business. Since my little Euly here says you’re going to take her to Sopan, I’m guessing you’re young Maelgyn. I’ve heard a few rumors about a new war here and there, but I’m afraid this sleepy little town doesn’t get much more than rumors. What say, while my cook fixes you both a meal, you tell me a bit about what’s been happening?”

  “Certainly, sir!” Maelgyn stammered. Somehow, Ruznak seemed to have been a step ahead of him from the moment he walked in the door... a trait the man seemed to share with Euleilla, although in a decidedly different way. Ruznak was startlingly up-front, while the girl was astoundingly evasive. Which made something Ruznak said pop into his mind. “Is Euleilla your daughter... or, rather, granddaughter, sir?”

  “My daughter?” Ruznak repeated, sounding just mildly surprised. “Why, no. That is to say, I’ve sired no children of my own. However, there are quite a few orphans who I’ve helped on their way, and she’s one of them. When my late wife proved to be barren, raising some of the less fortunate children made her feel better. I haven’t been too distressed at the idea of continuing that tradition now that she’s passed. Most of the other orphans – or their children, since we’ve been doing this for almost thirty years, now – work here as waitresses, maids, cooks, etc. Euleilla, though, was always a special one. She went out on her own a few months ago, like many children do when leaving their parents, to sell some of her trinkets for the journey ahead. I’m not quite sure what that makes me, though... what am I to you, anyway, girl?”

  “Gramps,” she chirped cheekily.

  “Gramps, eh?” he laughed. “Well, I suppose that fits. I’m old enough, that’s for sure. Okay, Euly, why don’t you head on back to your room and freshen up while I deal with your ‘guide,’ here.”

  “‘Kay,” she said, ‘smiling,’ and quickly swooped into one of the back rooms.

  “Now, Sword Maelgyn, how about that talk?” Ruznak said, narrowing his eyes at the young man.

  There was something dangerous in that stare, and Maelgyn began to understand just why he’d been so successful as a naval captain. “Yes, I suppose we’ll just have it.”

  “Now, why are you taking this land route to Sopan, unescorted even, and not traveling by ship?” Ruznak asked, leading them to a table. Moments later a young maid, probably one of Ruznak’s other adopted children, showed up with two cups of some steaming beverage, which she promptly set down in front of the two men before leaving.

  “The journey by sea is too dangerous. I’m leaving behind the escorts to make my journey more low-key.” Maelgyn took a sip of his drink, and widened his eyes in surprise. “That’s pretty good. What is this?”

  “A sweet tea sold by the Dwarves. If you stop at any of the Dwarven settlements on your trip through Mar’Tok, you’ll probably want to order that over anything else they’ll have. It’s called Mo’kah tea. It’s the only non-alcoholic drink I think they’ve got, and their liquors are too strong for most humans.”

  The young prince tried to remember if there was any note of that in his papers, but couldn’t think of any. “I’ll keep that in mind, even if this tastes like no tea I’ve ever had, but on to business. What do you know about the war so far?”

  “A few rumors and little else. I know the king was assassinated, and that it appears we’re at war with our former ‘allies,’” Ruznak spat. “I never liked the Sho’Curlas. I always suspected they were the ones who convinced Sword Prince Elaneth to take the Borden Isles into rebellion, and were the ones who provided the rebels with the funds and arms to fight us.”

  “Well, your guess is probably correct, and so is what you know,” Maelgyn said. “Prince Hussack and his son, Prince Mussack, killed Gilbereth right before my eyes, demanding the surrender of my province in order to prevent an invasion. Gilbereth had refused, and so... well, none of us knew Hussack was a mage, and a powerful one at that. Even guardian-sized Lodestones didn’t seem to matter, and he actually took the throne room and it seems he held it until the Sho’Curlas army showed up to rescue him.”

  “You should still have been able to leave by ship, though... unless they’ve already swept the coast? They had no navy, as I recall.”

  “Until recently they didn’t. Lots of factors, including the weather, made sea travel too risky for me to leave from Happaso or Glorest. By the time I got to Largo, it became obvious that I couldn’t leave by sea. Sho’Curlas has essentially annexed the City-State of Oden by ‘treaty,’ which means its entire navy was made available to our enemies. They’ve already wiped out the fleet in Largo and established a blockade around our major ports. The naval detachment at Sopan should be enough to break them, once it can be mobilized, but until then naval travel is unsafe.”

  “Hm,” Ruznak frowned. “What other information about the tactical situation do we have?”

  “Well, we know that Sho’Curlas fully secured its eastern border in the months before this invasion. Sycanth was taken before they could put up any kind of advance, and Svieda castle fell not too long ago. Our enemy’s armies hadn’t moved on after taking Svieda Castle, last I heard, and likely will be met by the combined Glorest-Rubick-Happaso army when they do. Gilbereth implied we had some intelligence suggesting that Sho’Curlas instigated the rebellions of Abindol and the Borden Isle, but I don’t know what it was.”

  “I knew it!”
Ruznak crowed. “I’ve said it for decades, but no-one believed me. Now, we know for sure... and I have to wonder if it matters, since we’re already at war with them.”

  “Perhaps not, but we shall see,” Maelgyn said. “I’ve been too concerned with getting to Sopan to think about it much.”

  “Aye, that’s another thing I wanted to talk with you about,” Ruznak growled, once more focusing his stare on Maelgyn. “I want you to take care of my little girl on your trip through the mountains, boy. Sword Prince or not, me with one leg or not, if you let something happen to her I will hunt you down and kill you.”

  Maelgyn swallowed nervously. Even in his nineties and with one leg, the old Admiral cut an imposing figure. “I... well, I’ll do what I can. To be honest, I never agreed to ‘guide’ her through the mountains. I’ve got a lot of questions for her, to be sure, but... well, she never talked about coming with me. In fact, all I expected her to do when she said to follow her was for her to lead me to the ferry.”

  A dark grin spread out on Ruznak’s face. “Well, that sounds like her, all right. You don’t mind helping, though, do you?”

  “Of course not,” Maelgyn said. “I don’t know what I’m helping her do, exactly, but I’ll assist her in any way I can, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the war effort. I’m not sure why she needs my help, though – she seems an impressive enough mage to handle any brigands she runs across. I stopped a pack of them who were surrounding her when I got into town across the river, but from the way she reacted to the whole affair I’m pretty sure she knows she could have handled them, herself.”

  “She could have,” Ruznak agreed. “She’s not afraid of being attacked. All she needs is what she asked for – a guide, someone to help her find the right trail.”

  “I’ve got a spare map of the area, if she needs it,” Maelgyn suggested. “I’m making this trip the first time, myself, though, so I’m not sure how good of a guide I would be.”

  “No,” the old man hesitated. “I don’t think a map would work.”

  “Can’t she read maps?” Maelgyn asked. “I mean, I don’t know what she needs to go into Sopan for, but I’m going to have to leave in the morning... surely she’s going to want more time to get ready to go.”

  “She’s been ready to go,” Ruznak explained. “She’s been looking for a guide for a while, now, and had recently been trying to raise the money to hire one. She, uh, really isn’t able to read a map, but she needs to get to Sopan as soon as possible. A private organization which manufactures mage-produced tools and metalwork agreed to hire her, but only if she can get there before they can otherwise fill the position. Her bags have been packed so that she could leave right away, if necessary.”

  Maelgyn grinned. “Well, I can guarantee her employment in Sopan. If she’s too late to get that job I’ll hire her into the Sword’s Service as a court mage. No one that talented should be unemployed long.”

  “If she’s willing,” Ruznak agreed, although his tone suggested he doubted Euleilla would be. “At any rate, you will take care of her, right?”

  “Of course,” Maelgyn nodded.

  “Good,” Ruznak enthusiastically bellowed. “In that case...” He clapped his hands, and immediately three more waitresses showed up carrying platters full of food. “Let’s eat. You’ve got a big journey ahead of you, and you should start it fresh and well fed.”

  Chapter 5

  Despite the rain, slow whirlwinds of magic dust continued to surround Euleilla. As they made their way through the mountains, however, a tendril of that dust had moved forward and wrapped itself around Maelgyn’s ankle as well. He still had no idea what purpose it served, or why she had decided to encircle him with it, but he’d given up getting a straight answer from her before she’d even taken him to the Left Foot Inn. He’d tried asking Ruznak some of the questions surrounding the girl before they parted, but the old sailor only shook his head, saying, “She’ll tell you if she wants you to know.”

  It seemed she didn’t want him to know anything. He hoped, in the event of a crisis, she would answer questions that needed answering, but he was willing to allow her privacy until then. Still, the fact that she ‘leashed’ him with her superfine magic dust disturbed him a bit.

  She wasn’t walking with the same self-assurance she had shown in Rocky Run. Her steps were more cautious and the rain had slowed her more than he was expecting. It had been raining for four days straight and both he and Euleilla were soaked to the bone. She didn’t complain, exactly, but she did stop smiling for all of one minute when they set up their camp one night. That had been when her tent tore under the weight of the rain water. Maelgyn had given her his tent, and now he was the one sleeping in the rain at nights.

  Those wet nights left him tired, cranky, a little sick, and frustrated – especially when they had to head right back to the start of the trail after a mudslide closed the pass he initially planned to take. That had set him back a full day, and he was fairly certain that wouldn’t be the only setback they would have... particularly if it continued to rain like it was.

  He turned his head around to watch how his charge was doing, and saw, to his astonishment, her walk head-first into an overhanging tree-limb weighed down with rain.

  “Euleilla!” he called, quickly stepping over to her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” she said, apparently unconcerned about her injury. He could see a tiny bit of blood trickling down her cheek from somewhere above her abnormal hairline.

  “No, you’re not. You’re bleeding... didn’t you see the tree limb?”

  “Nope,” she answered, reaching a finger up to touch her cheek, and seemingly noticing the blood for the first time.

  “Why not? It was right in front of you!”

  She froze, not answering for a moment. For the first time that he’d known her, Euleilla actually looked... afraid. There had been times on their journey when she’d looked uncomfortable or hesitant, but he had never seen her afraid. Her smile completely left its face, and Maelgyn knew that there was something seriously wrong. Finally, she sighed, and lifted her hand to raise the hair that covered her eyes. There, he could see, were two eyes which had been scarred over – one scar jagged, the other a perfectly straight line. Both scars, however, covered eyes which would never open again.

  “I... I can’t see anything,” was all she said.

  “What happened to you?” Maelgyn couldn’t help but ask. He was still astonished that the person who had been his guide all across Rocky Run couldn’t see. She had never shown any sign that she was blind... well, no obvious signs. Suddenly, the whirlwind of magic powder around her made sense: That was how she “saw.” And the “leash” around him wasn’t a leash at all. It was a lifeline.

  “My father – my real father – was a failed mage and alchemist,” she began. Maelgyn nodded. Failed mages frequently went on to become alchemists. With few exceptions, mage training had to begin at birth or you could never quite grasp the technique needed to access magical abilities. Sometimes a person would be trained as a mage but discovered as they aged that they weren’t powerful enough to use magic effectively. The rate of failure was partly why parents were so reluctant to have their children learn magic.

  In Svieda, only about one out of every ten students failed. Those numbers rose and fell depending on family background, where one lived, how they were instructed, and several similar factors, and Svieda had an atypically high success rate. There were only two fields of magic use open to a failed mage: Teachers (failed mages frequently gave the best magical instruction as they would have tried everything to learn magic, themselves) and alchemists (who, unlike the chemists who studied medicines and poisons, typically studied elemental change and magically reactive substances). Alchemy really was the ideal career for a failed mage, who might still have enough magical strength for alchemy, even if they couldn’t use magic for other practical applications.

  “Go on,” He said softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder
.

  Euleilla spoke again, haltingly at first, and then the words came faster and faster. After the long, silent journey this far, the sudden avalanche of words was all the more striking. “He was able to teach me the basics of magic. I proved to be quite talented at it, so he arranged for me to apprentice under a mage named Cawnpore. Cawnpore was a harsh but effective teacher, who also happened to be a rather violent drunkard. Still, while my father was alive, he made sure he was sober around me – my father had earned his respect, somehow, and so he did nothing which might anger him.

  “My father was working on developing a potion for a mining company in Sycanth – something which would dissolve quartz but leave gold unharmed. Unfortunately, a rival company wanted to stop him. At first they tried hiring away my father, but he refused. Then they tried intimidating him. We left town, moving from place to place all the way across Svieda, until we finally settled in Rocky Run. I was eight years old, I think, and it wasn’t until much later I understood what was going on.

  “My father kept working on his research while in hiding. He hoped that we would be able to live our normal lives again if he could just finish that potion. Any gain for the mining companies at his death would then be moot. And finish it he did. He knew it was risky, but he sent for his old friend, and my old teacher, Cawnpore – he wanted someone to guard him when we returned to our old home and sold the new formula. This may have been how they found out where we were, since before Cawnpore arrived we were attacked by an assassin. My father tried to fight him off, but while my father killed the assassin the damage had been done. He had been poisoned, and died less than a week later. What happened to me, though, was much worse in his eyes.”

  She pointed to her own eye – the one with the jagged scar. “That was where I got this. One of my father’s chemicals exploded, sending a wooden splinter right into my eye. A surgeon managed to remove the splinter with very little damage, but I will never see out of that eye again.”