Well Armed Brides: A Novel of the Highmage's Plight (Highmage’s Plight Series Book 5)

by D. H. Aire

  Ow,Terus squealed.

  I thought we just fixed that problem.

  Oh, um, of course, we did, Ri.

  #

  George turned to watch the Empress begin her procession down the aisle. The warders stationed at that entrance bowed and a sheen of warded energy appeared before the bejeweled Empress, who stepped up and began walking across raised wards the likes of which had only been described in ancient lays. The guests watched mesmerized as she seemed to walk on air as she stepped walked about the aisle and came directly to George’s side.

  Many gasped and other began to cry. The Empress soon walked higher than those seated around the hall, her jewels sparkled as did the Elvinskin.

  George forced a smile, glad that Revit had made it somehow, but more that the boy was now standing in front of him, blocking the view.

  The redheaded girl beside Revit seemed to be breathing a bit hard, clearly uncomfortable about where she found herself.

  :Uh, George.:

  “What?” he muttered as Lonny held the glowing staff in her left hand, well within his rapport range.

  :I think she’s uncomfortable for more than one reason.:

  “Really? Just don’t make me laugh.”

  Se’and glanced at him, frowning.

  The red haired one seemed to have a death-grip on Revit’s hand covering her privates.

  :She’s not wearing Elvinsilk.:

  He glanced down at her butt. Pasted the smile more firmly on his face, considering ways to kill Revit.

  :George, Revit doesn’t seem particularly happy about this, either.:

  George considered his options as the last members of the Empress’s bridal party that there was room for ascended the dais and formed the other half of the semi-circle. Her party was far larger than his and formed a line that stopped a quarter of the length of the aisle to the dais. They bowed as the Empress passed.

  On this point, the heralds were clear; those upon the dais were not to bow. They were among those the Empire was honoring.

  A necklace of sapphires draped the Empress’s neck as her gown incandesced in swirls of indigo, violet, blue, and green. As she ascended the dais a rather imposing ogress marched slowly at her back. The ogress took a position behind the bridal party below the dais on that side, watching for any possible threat. The Empress came to George’s side and her Elvinsilk gown flared across its entire length letting out an explosion of brilliant light.

  That’s when she offered George her hand. He hesitated but a moment and took hold of it in his right. Se’and grasped his left and squeezed hard. He swallowed and faced the old man and blinked.

  The former captain of the crash landed colony ship Questor took a deep breath, “I have it on good authority that thousands of years ago that there were human wedding ceremonies which began with the phrase, ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.’ Alas, though, I’ve no doubt that the Highmage, scholar that he is, is well aware of such human tradition, elvin… particularly High Elvin tradition calls for different words, words that predate the rise of this Empire.”

  There was a gasp from the crowd as the prelate, in fact, a man who should not still be living, sang out words it had taken him centuries to master. The room went dark and stars appeared above them.

  George frowned unable to comprehend a single word, though, staff glowed and three, then four, six, then nine additional minds were enrapport, seeking their meaning. Balfour shared, These words are older than this world.

  “The prelate speaks High Elvin,” someone on the dais whispered.

  THESE ARE THE WORDS SPOKEN OF OLD, a voice announced out of the ether. THEY UNITE US. PROMISE THOSE WED THIS DAY THAT THE FUTURE NEED BE NO DARKER THAN THE COSMOS ITSELF WHICH GAVE US ALL BIRTH.

  The prelate ceased, “I am Keeper of the Keys, Prelate of the Temple of Knowledge, and have other titles lent to me by history. Long ago the Keeper of Keys stood on this very spot, once rocky and barren. A daughter of man was offered in marriage here to the Guardian of the Gate, their daughter to rule the fledgling kingdom that slowly became an empire.

  “I call upon you, Empress of the Aqwaine Empire, Guardian and Protector of all those who dwell in the light, whether elf, of the blood, or human in its as now myriad forms, to take this man, a human mage, he whose titles include: Guardian of the Gate, Highmage of the Aqwaine Empire, Lord of Catha, and Captain of the Ship’s Engineers, as you’re not only your consort, but as husband?”

  “I do.”

  “Will you, Je’orj du Bradlei, take this, our Empress, to wife from this day forth? Honoring her, offering her succor, and helping her to raise thy issue?”

  “I…” he began.

  #

  Revit frowned, seeing Ander being held close by Aaprin, knowing it was wrong. Juels sensed his action and knew she had to deflect it; she held her breath and called up all her luck to the fore.

  What are you doing?

  Terus focused, too, Ander can’t end up with Aaprin.

  #

  Carwina dared not glance at Balfour for fear of both laughing and crying. There he stood, just inches from her. I should have gone with him when he left the Empire, she told herself, knowing she could never have abandoned her father.

  Sianhiel glanced at the Lady Rowena, who instead of showing any interest in the elflord beside her, was staring at Grendel’s daughter Belina. He looked from one to the other. His eyes widened and felt the fool. Belina was her daughter!

  #

  The wards reverberated as chaos was given momentary vent.

  :Uh, George…: Staff tried to say as Fri’il winced and Se’and squeezed George’s hand hard.

  The Empress looked at him with such innocent eyes, her gown’s luster gone. He saw her as if as naked as he was before her.

  Ander’s eyes widened as she felt herself being shoved in two directions at once. She twisted and fell into Aaprin’s arms as Juels tried to grab her as Gallen was tugged down atop them.

  Lord Westerleaf made what sounded like the slightest of rude noises, one easily disavowed in proper circles. In horror, she let go of his hand, no matter what cruel fate her grandmother planned for her.

  The ogress heard that sound, dove forward, knocking him to the floor with a cry, “Ware!”

  George’s staff flared as the virus, too tiny to be seen, passed through the air on Westerleaf’s puff of deadly breath.

  :Engaging bio hazard field!:

  George pulled the Empress close as blue light flared.

  The ogress had also bumped Belina, who fell with a cry, and the young bride on the other side, found herself shoved sideways, tripping her would-be husband, the late Lord Senason’s brother, who found himself falling off the dais.

  “Oof,” all those being knocked down like dominoes. “Hey!”

  “Oh.”

  “Argh.”

  Revit gaped seeing Belina falling on him, knocking him down atop Aliana, who lost control of her illusionary shimmering effect. “Oh!”

  The anklets around Se’and’s, Fri’il’s, and Cle’or’s legs flared with Staff’s warning— :Get behind the field!:

  The steri-field sparked as the virus impacted. The prelate’s body seemed to glow as wards flared around him under the invisible threat.

  Cle’or pushed Fri’il closer to Se’and and George as Lonny rushed forward, holding the computer staff two-handed.

  On the other side of the semi-circle, Carwina found herself being knocked into Balfour, toppling both him and Me’oh in a heap with her.

  Raven took it all in and remembered what she was not supposed to do. “No,” she whispered, reaching out to steady Fri’il and Se’and as the blue shield flared.

  George stared mid-sentence, as the Empress turned and glared, then yanked on his right hand hard, “… do.”

  The prelate gaped, “Uh, nobody move.”

  #

  Carwina stared into Balfour’s wide-eyes. “Um, Car.”

  “Uh, hi
, Bal.”

  Me’oh sighed. “Welcome to the family, Milady.”

  #

  The redhead stared over Revit’s shoulder and gasped, “Belina?”

  “Do I know you?” she whispered, frowning

  “Uh, who are you?” Revit muttered, glancing over his shoulder, not exactly sure where it was safe to put his hands.

  The girl beneath him muttered, “Grendel’s daughter… your other wife.”

  “My what?” he squeaked.

  #

  The ogress hefted Westerleaf off the floor as he shouted, “Release me this instant!”

  “Shut up, traitor!” the ogress yelled quite distinctly.

  “What are you talking about?” he rasped, feigning innocence.

  “Assassin,” the ogress hissed.

  “That’s a lie! All here saw I did nothing!”

  “Quiet!” The Empress cried.

  In the resulting silence, the prelate announced, glancing down around the dais and off it at all those looking rather embarrassed, struggling to rise from where they’d been knocked down. “You’ve just gotten married as you are. Empress, Highmage, I pronounce you wife and husband.” He turned around, “As official umpire, I pronounce you three there, and you two, and you two, oh my, you two… Oh, let’s not forget our three young friends over there, and this interesting foursome, you’re married.” He glanced down the aisle and the toppled masses. “That goes for you there, too… Hmm, apparently serving the Empress has led to… a ladyship. Now someone get me a drink.”

  An elflady screeched, “I’m married to him?”

  The Faeryn mage looked at his angry but rather beautiful unintended bride, then at Rowena with Lord Sianhiel, who did not look particularly unpleased by events.

  Soon similar cries from guests could be heard as their carefully arranged plans were sundered.

  #

  Lady Rowena was helped to her feet by her new husband, Sianhiel, but stared first at Belina as her grandmother rose from her seat in the audience and screamed, “That cannot be binding!”

  The Empress turned and said, “What did you say?”

  The woman went pale. “I… I did not mean to imply…” she gestured at the people rising in the aisle, including a very young elflord whose bride, years the lad’s senior, slowly smiled realizing she wasn’t marrying the bureaucrat, but the elflord heir who had literally landed in her lap. He’s eyes were wide.

  His almost bride was about to scream, when new her husband turned, faced her and met her gaze. “Oh,” she said. “I, uh, didn’t realize…”

  “You were just a child when I last saw you, my dear.”

  She smiled shyly, forgetting how rich he was. He had been so kind after her elder brother’s death in the Northlands.

  “Enough!” The Empress shouted. “High Elvin marriages are absolutely binding.” She turned and shouted, “Varian!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty!”

  “Has something like this never happened before?”

  He was searching through the tome in question, “Yes, Your Majesty, a millennia ago or so, three couples fell from the dais as the service ended. Five hundred years before that, an elflady fainted, falling backward from the dais step. Twelve couples were affected.”

  “Their marriages…”

  “It says… all the contracts promised were null. They all found themselves in unexpected marriages, bound in honor.”

  “Precedent enough even on a contract point. So, Lady Karolynia, your granddaughter looks like she’s found a fine young husband. As I believe the rest of us have as well.”

  “He’s human!” Karolynia gasped, unable to stop herself.

  “Yes, wonder what your rapist of a son would say about having a human for a son-in-law? For your loyalty to the crown, Karolynia, I will not hold that remark against you… Oh, and Revit and your granddaughter will doubtless appreciate that fine dowry I heard you offered her would-be husband, which is now his by right. I am correct about that, Varian?”

  “Absolutely, Your Majesty,” the herald replied in hidden glee.

  Lady Karolynia stared. “But that boy’s two brides of the blood.”

  “He’s as good as Carthartan then. He lives in their Embassy, too, so that shouldn’t concern you in the least.”

  Belina hastily got off those she had knocked down and turned to stare as Westerleaf was dragged away, screaming this was a human conspiracy. “I did nothing!” he cried as the ogress shook him like a rag doll followed by a warder, who stifled his magic. Belina glanced next at her grandmother, then down at the mageling her father would have joyously seen dead.

  The redhead muttered, “This can’t be happening.”

  An Imperial Legionnaire hastened to their side and helped her up. She went pale and carefully maneuvered Revit in front of her. “I think you three had best come with me. Out of… further harm’s way. Milord, Highmage?”

  George nodded, noting that the two warders seemed very uncomfortable. “Of course… I suggest, uh, all of us do the same before the reception. If Her Majesty concurs?”

  “I most certainly do.”

  The Legionnaire accompanied the three toward a side entrance to the hall.

  The Empress faced her guests, then glanced over her shoulder and saw Carwina whispering to Balfour, her husband. She also saw Rowena and Sianhiel smiling. Lord Talik had a gently sobbing elflady in his arms, who, if the Empress was any judge, was crying tears of relief. “Somehow,” the Empress announced, “I think fate’s little joke is for the best. Now, where were we… oh, Prelate, good, you’ve found a drink to your liking.”

  “To Her Majesty!” he shouted, raising his cup.

  “To Her Majesty, May she reign forever!” the guests chorused, though, many seemed a bit hesitant.

  The Empress turned to her husband, “Je’orj, I know it is human custom to kiss the bride, but it is not elvin.”

  “I, uh, understand, Your Majesty.”

  “But no one says you cannot hug the bride.” He opened his arms and pulled her close. She took a deep breath. “Err, I think I meant hug the brides.”

  They were swarmed, the Staff flaring with fireworks as it was pressed up against George’s back. Raven put her arms around her family, hating the fact she couldn’t change and slip around them.

  In the audience, Tristan Y Tane smiled. “Enjoy the wedding feast.”

  Chapter 11 - Reception

  “Uh, nice room,” Revit said as soon as they entered. The redhead raced to the bed, drew off the top cover and wrapped herself in it as the veteran Legionnaire locked the door. Belina looked for a something to defend herself, uncertain by the strange look in the Legionnaire’s eyes. The sheathed bane sword, whose hilt, he gripped almost like a vise, did not help matters.

  “Aliana, where have you been and what’s happened to you?”

  Revit’s eyes widened. “You’re her father?”

  “Apparently your father-in-law, actually.”

  “Aliana?” Belina said. “I didn’t recognize you. You were one of the poor elfbloods the Mistress kicked out of the school.”

  “Yes, one of those poor folk that the mistress wanted rid of, and did.”

  “She did what?” Grigg yelled.

  “Oh, it was all right. She sent us to the Mage Academy for education… and we finally got one.”

  Belina frowned, “But you weren’t this old.”

  “Oh, I was there for over a year.”

  “What?” her father rasped.

  “We were… Deep Underhill and time ran a bit differently,” Revit said. “It’s where Aliana and I, uh, met.”

  Belina said, “That’s impossible. There’s no such thing as being ‘deep Underhill’ as you put it. Father never suddenly aged and he was on the faculty for years…”

  “Actually its old magery, part of the lore we’ve been weeded away from knowing by the Demonlord’s minions,” Revit said.

  She was about to retort, thinking that might be something a Faeryn mage might claim, when
she shook her head instead. “Father said something like that once. So, I shouldn’t claim it completely impossible.”

  Revit nodded, swallowed hard and looked at Grigg. “Look, it is not exactly like we planned to get married.”

  “You were on the invitation list…” Grigg said. “She wasn’t, and, I’m no fool. There’s no tradition of women taking part in the processional without clothes!”

  “That was an, um, accident…”

  “Really, Aliana? An accident? You just happened to lose your clothes.”

  “Uh, we didn’t have a gown for her,” Revit offered.

  “Don’t you start with me! I’m ready to put you both over a barrel and swat you with the flat of this rather wicked sword.”

  Belina was glad he wasn’t angry at her.

  There was a knock at the door. The bar suddenly freed itself and a warder mage entered. He raised his hand and the door closed and vanished. “Master Revit.”

  Revit turned to Belina, “Can I trust you?”

  “No one does. So, I suggest not.”

  “I certainly don’t,” Aliana said.

  Looking into her eyes, Revit said, “I’m not having that. We’re married… though, we’re not going to make that official any time soon… Understand, Sergeant?”

  Grigg privately relaxed, “I’m listening.”

  The tall warder said, “Pappa, it’s me, Rexil.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m one of the warder mages now. I’m working with Aaprin and Gallen.”

  “But… you’re too tall and don’t sound like yourself.”

  “Pappa,” Aliana said, “it’s really Rexil in there.”

  “Then come out and show yourself!”

  “I wish I could, Papa… but I can’t. I’m bound by the spell.”

  “One day, he should be able to,” Revit said. “Finding how to make it work in the first place… was an accident.”

  “I was the first to completely master the forms, Pappa,” Rexil said.

  “So all the warders…” Grigg began.

  “Are students of the Mage Academy,” Aliana said.

  “We were so worried… and how am I going to explain any of this to your mother? Why even marry this miscreant?”