And it helped me to meet you, something said in his head.
“Who said that?” he exclaimed, startling his wife.
“What?” she answered, looking at him oddly. “No-one said anything that I heard, and I would have heard.”
“Must have been my imagination,” Maelgyn replied. “Maybe I was drifting off to sleep or something.”
No, the voice answered in what seemed to be an exasperated tone. You merely don’t comprehend what’s going on. Don’t speak, just think – I’m talking in your mind.
Maelgyn didn’t know what was going on – and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Was he going insane? He’d heard that insane people sometimes heard voices in their heads.
Relax, it thought to him once more. You are not insane. I really am talking to you, and if you think for a moment, you’ll realize just what I am.
Maelgyn wondered at that. He’d never heard of anything, even an Elf, talking in his head. It didn’t help that his vision was blurry and his senses addled. He started searching for any possible explanation but came up blank.
Oh, come on. You know what I am.
It took him a while before he realized that it was the schlipf that was “talking” to him. While he knew it was a so-called “living weapon,” he never knew it could, for lack of a better word, speak, but that was the only thing that made sense.
Well, I can. But no, it wouldn’t be common knowledge – typically, we don’t talk to those we bond with. Or even to the Elves which created us and master us. We are a bit picky about who we talk to, and most who we do talk with keep our secrets. We were born to be weapons, but we were born to be living weapons. We were given intelligence so that we could defend our masters even when they were asleep or unconscious. But as intelligent creatures, we have our own ideas about what causes are worthy and what are not. I’m not exactly all that enthusiastic about my former Elven master’s plans, so I believe that keeping you alive is a worthy cause.
Me? Why me? Maelgyn asked, by now realizing how he could talk directly to the plant. I am no-one special, save by the accident of my birth.
Ah, but the so-called “accident of your birth” is the reason you require my protection, the schlipf replied. I may not have discovered it if you hadn’t wounded yourself, allowing me to root in your nerves, but once I was connected with you I knew your cause was worthy of my support. And so I now greet you as your servant and protector, Maelgyn, Sword Prince of Svieda. I am Sekhar, Schlipf Volunteer, Junior Class.
Maelgyn didn’t know what to think for a moment. Who even knew that plants had classes? Much less that they could talk in people’s minds, or make moral choices about who to help and who not to help. His attention was drawn, however, by the sense that Euleilla was probing him magically, searching for whatever was distressing him. He set his wordless thoughts on this new aspect of his bonding aside to alleviate her fears.
“I’m not in any pain. Not anymore,” he noted.
“I know,” she answered. “I can tell. But something else is troubling you, distracting you. I might think it was me, but I sensed that your attention was not on me. I can’t find what the problem is, however.”
He really wanted to explain to her what was going on, but he wasn’t sure how to do so without explaining Sekhar, which he wasn’t sure he should do right then.
Go ahead, Sekhar thought to him. Tell her. But tell no-one else without my permission.
You trust her?
Why not? She is your lifemate, is she not?
Well... yes, Maelgyn thought back after a moment’s hesitation. But things were complicated when we met, and they just get more complicated the closer we get. She’s a commoner, not a noble, after all, and while I’m okay with that I don’t know if she even knows what all it entails, and there’s this war about to happen during which...
Stop babbling, Sekhar chided. You cannot lie to me, even if you wish to lie to yourself. The politics of Humanity can do nothing to change the fact that she is your lifemate. She will know about me eventually, and better sooner than later.
“Right,” Maelgyn sighed. “Euleilla, I can tell you what the problem is. It will have to be a secret, however, and it must be kept – Wangdu probably suspected this would happen, but even he shouldn’t be told.”
She sighed deeply, looking disappointed with him. “Surely you know I can keep a secret, by now?”
“Right,” he answered, blushing in embarrassment. “Of course. Yes, I know you can keep a secret. I just needed you to understand that it was a secret.”
There was a pause, and he still wasn’t saying anything. Finally, Euleilla could stand the silence no longer. “Talk. It’s the schlipf, isn’t it?”
“What else would it be?” Maelgyn asked, somehow not surprised that she had guessed. “At this point, my senses both magical and natural are so dulled I can barely tell you are here when you aren’t talking. If I’m not thinking about you, or whoever else is around that I’m talking to, my thoughts are going to drift... and they’ll likely drift to the schlipf, given the newness of it all.”
“What about the schlipf?” she asked. Obviously, she wasn’t going to be distracted.
“It’s intelligent,” he replied. “And it just started, well, ‘talking’ to me. Or rather ‘thinking’ at me, I suppose. It says its name is Sekhar, and that it has bonded with me of its own volition. It feels I am worth protecting, for some reason.”
Euleilla didn’t say anything for a moment, and in fact did little more than continue swabbing him down with the damp cloth as she had been doing for some time. By this point, Maelgyn was certain she was just going over spots she had done before, but it didn’t matter. He enjoyed it anyway, and it kept her presence certain in his mind.
“I am not surprised,” she finally answered. “I didn’t know how it worked for certain, but I knew the wielder had to be able to give it orders in some way. Nor am I surprised that it finds you worthy – I knew you were from the moment we met. But does it know that it can shorten your lifespan?”
Tell her yes, Sekhar answered. I do. I also know how to expand it... and to expand hers, if she’ll let me. But we’ll have to wait until the bonding is complete to begin that, and only if she is willing to stay as your lifemate for such an expanded time.
Maelgyn blinked, looking down at the plant. During the bonding process, the plant could not fully retreat into its smallest, most concealable size... but it no longer looked like a weapon. Now, it merely looked like vines braided into a long bracer. If there was anything which looked less like a thinking creature, he had yet to see it. Which was not, he cautioned himself (and Sekhar, in case it was listening), an insult – he admired its abilities to camouflage itself to look so harmless.
“It admits it can, yes. It claims to be able to increase my lifespan, as well, however... and yours, too, after the bonding is complete,” Maelgyn answered. “Sekhar hasn’t said how, yet, but he warns that we must remain ‘lifemates,’ as he calls it, if he does so.”
Euleilla “looked” at him momentarily. Nodding, she answered, “I would enjoy spending more than a lifetime with you, husband.”
Maelgyn forced his eyes to focus on Euleilla. It was more difficult than he would have thought, but he needed to see her right then. He needed to see her face – which he was starting to read quite well, despite not being able to ever see her eyes.
“I think I would enjoy it, as well,” he said. Both of them still harbored fears over the struggle they faced, but they were willing to try and make their marriage work and that was enough.
Dr. Wodtke suddenly appeared – well, suddenly to Maelgyn. He was having a hard time perceiving his surroundings, still, and had no idea how long she’d been listening in on his conversation with Euleilla.
Not long, Sekhar said. While you may be asleep and defenseless during the bonding, I can sense the proximity of others. I must, in order to know if you need protection or not. She didn’t enter this room until a few seconds ago.
Thank yo
u, Maelgyn replied. I can tell you’ll be very helpful, with all that you seem to be capable of.
I am bound to you, the schlipf stated. I must be helpful, or I have no point in existing. By the way, the good doctor is talking to you.
“...hear what I’m saying? Hello?” the doctor was saying. “I need to ask you a few questions if you’re up to it.”
“Sorry, Doctor,” Maelgyn sighed. “I must’ve drifted off for a second.”
“That’s to be expected,” she sighed. “Now, it seems as if you’re doing pretty good, save for a lack of focus. I think it’s time you started eating again, so I’m going to have someone bring you some soup. Do you think you’ll be able to deal with it?”
At the mention of food, he noticed for the first time just how hungry he was. “I think the only thing I wouldn’t be able to deal with would be the continued lack of food. I’m starving!”
She grinned at him. “Okay. We’ll get you something filling, but easy on your stomach. I’ll be right back.”
As the doctor left the room, Euleilla re-entered his vision. Tenderly stroking his forehead, she said, “You look tired. Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll wake you when the soup gets here.”
Closing his eyes, he nodded. “Okay. Good night, Euleilla.”
He felt her lips on his forehead. “Good night, husband.”
The next time Maelgyn awoke, it was not to Euleilla and the Doctor’s soup. Rather, it was to a distraught-looking young Dwarf, fretting over his bed. He was dressed in a formal steward’s outfit (which looked rather ridiculous on a Dwarf) that didn’t quite seem to fit him. A stack of abandoned linens showed he had been coming in to perform a steward’s duties, but had long since forgotten why he was here.
“Hello, Tur’Ba,” Maelgyn said, greeting his young charge.
Tur’Ba spun to face him, startled. “Master!” he cried. “I’m sorry, Master! I should have been there!”
Maelgyn was bewildered. “Been where? What are you talking about?”
“When the Elves attacked you, Master,” Tur’Ba replied, downtrodden. “I shouldn’t be doing these silly lessons on how to pick what you need to wear, or what sort of silverware is appropriate for state dinners. I didn’t come with you to be a nameless servant in some stuffy castle – I wanted to fight the war at your side. To be in the middle of the action, defending your flank as my father defended his Lord’s flank in his youth, when he was a soldier.”
I wouldn’t exactly call this reaction unexpected, but he’s certainly taking it harder than I thought he would, Maelgyn mused. I didn’t know that Tur’Ba’s father was a soldier, however. Perhaps El’Ba sent his son with me for more reasons than just to cure the boy’s wanderlust.
“First of all you could never be with me all the time, no matter the role you take in my court – I need my privacy, and I won’t stand for having that privacy interrupted even by the most well-intentioned of people. I was attacked when I was looking for such privacy, and I was attacked by four Elves,” Maelgyn noted wryly. “I don’t think there’s much you would have been able to do.”
Tur’Ba frowned. “My ancestors, the Dwarven Axemen, were said to stand up to the Elves on even terms... surely, I—”
“Not true. Not under these circumstances,” Maelgyn snapped. “I hate to disappoint you, Tur’Ba, but no-one has ever been able to beat the Elves one-on-one. Even a High Mage shouldn’t be able to.”
Tur’Ba’s eyes narrowed, his mood shifting from self-loathing to anger. “No-one was a better defender than a Dwarven Axeman. Not even the Elves....”
“In a cave carved out of stone, as most of Mar’Tok and other Dwarven kingdoms were at the time, I’d agree,” Maelgyn mused. “The Elves’ biggest advantage lays in control of their terrain, but in a Dwarven cave there is nothing living for the Elves to control. It’s what made the Axemen an elite, and what made the Dwarves a major race. Every major race seems to have its own elite warrior class. Humans have mages, for example. The Merfolk have assassins. And the Dwarves had the Axemen. But they’re gone, now, and have been for centuries. Like many others.”
That confused Tur’Ba. “What others have disappeared?”
“The Nekoji used to have an order of warriors known as ‘Samurai,’ soldiers trained to use their race’s natural superiority in speed and strength to become better than any ten men. They could shoot heavy longbows with remarkable speed, and could move from place to place so fast that any one of them could appear to be five attackers if you didn’t see them. Their swordsmanship was peerless. They were very impressive... but the Nekoji dismantled their order after an unfortunate peace treaty, and when the next war came there was no-one left to train new Samurai.
“Also the Ancient Elves had a class of warrior superior to anyone – even other Elves. They utilized the best aspects of every other major Race, incorporating them into themselves. Nothing could stop them, not even whole armies of Dwarven axemen—”
“But the Dwarven Axemen were able to prevent many Elven incursions from even entering the caves,” Tur’Ba argued.
“The Axemen could defend the Dwarven caves from anyone, and en masse were effective against even the Elves. But a lot of what made the Axemen effective is that they could work well together while in tight spaces. Typically, it would be three or even four Axemen against each attacking Elf during those Elven incursions you mentioned... but one on one? A Dwarven Axeman wouldn’t stand a chance even inside of his caves.”
That seemed to disturb Tur’Ba more than anything else Maelgyn had said. “So... the Axemen weren’t really very good? Is that what you’re saying?”
Maelgyn laughed. “Hardly! In the few wars between Dwarves and Humans during that age, the Axemen were more effective against Mages than any other race, even the Elves. Human magic can affect Elves’ blood – not as well as it can Humans, but at least to a limited degree. Dwarven blood is another matter entirely – even a First Rate mage can’t do much of anything to a Dwarf if he’s protected by a lodestone. The Axemen took this natural advantage and built on it, becoming true counters to the Human mages. I’m not entirely sure how all it worked – you’d need to talk to someone who was alive when the Dwarven Axemen were still around – but the Axemen were insanely powerful anti-Mages.” Maelgyn paused. “Unfortunately, the last true Dwarven Axeman died many centuries ago. And it’s a shame... we could use a few thousand of them in this war.”
“Centuries ago, huh?” Tur’Ba mused, the wheels in his head obviously spinning. “Thank you, master! I’ve got an idea!”
“Wait! What are you...” Maelgyn called, but it was too late. The Dwarf was gone. “Oh well.”
Moments later, Euleilla came in, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup. “Where was he going in such a hurry?”
Maelgyn frowned. “I’m not sure....” After thinking about it for a few minutes, he mentally shrugged, putting it out of his head.
Euleilla took a spoonful of the steaming broth and held it out to him – a few inches above where he needed it to be, and unintentionally threatening to spill all over him. “Open wide,” she hummed.
I think I’ve got more important things to worry about than hyperactive Dwarves, anyway, Maelgyn thought, trying his best to keep his wife from spilling his dinner over him.
Euleilla grinned, helping her husband stretch. He had recovered enough to get out of bed just a few days before, and was now engaged in an exercise regimen to rework his muscles. The doctors, Wodtke included, had uniformly disagreed with him about just what kind of exercise regimen he should participate in. He wanted to do some sword practice in order to ready himself for the campaign. They wanted him to go on long walks.
After some work, Euleilla managed to talk both sides into a compromise – if he still felt up to it after engaging in a light workout along the doctors’ line of thought, she’d engage him in a little practice with the staff. Maelgyn was a little unsure of engaging her in sparring practice, but he finally agreed as it was the only way the doctors would all
ow him to do anything but take those walks. The doctors believed that he would not be able to go through with it, though Wodtke wasn’t quite as convinced.
Despite their certainty, Maelgyn still wanted to spar after they had returned from their walk. That had surprised Euleilla initially, but then he said that he needed her help before they began. Specifically, he found he couldn’t quite fully stretch himself out without having someone help push him – literally. He needed someone to add their weight to his own for some splits and squats. She rather enjoyed draping herself over him as he exercised – their relationship was progressing nicely, and she was well able to use a little flirtation in the session.
Mentally, she was preparing herself for the spar ahead. She familiarized herself with the magical signature of his hands and feet, internally rehearsed all the advice Ruznak had ever given her about combat, and considered everything she might try to surprise him. She wanted to make a good impression.
Maelgyn took an unsteady breath and nodded. “Okay, that’s enough I think. Let’s get ready.”
She ‘looked’ at him in concern, studying his magical signature. He seemed strong enough, but there was something odd....
“Are you sure? You seem to be breathing kind of... oddly.”
She could feel his gaze on her. Curiously, even though she had long ago lost her own sight, she could always sense someone else’s eyes on her. “Of course I am,” he finally said. “You’ve been hanging on me for a good fifteen minutes. You are quite attractive, you know, and I am a man... and your husband. I would be concerned if I wasn’t ‘breathing oddly’ after that.”
She felt herself blush deeply as she realized what he was saying. It was true that she’d been trying for a reaction like that, but she hadn’t really been expecting one. It was a... pleasant surprise.
“Then I guess I was doing it right,” she answered impudently. “So, are you ready to get started?”
“I am. So, how do you want to do this? Do you know anything about staff fighting?”
In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) Page 28