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

by D. H. Aire

  That’s when he heard a sound. His eyes widened in horror, realizing he was half-hearing a spell. The cell door exploded off its hinges. “Lord Hayden, good night.”

  “No! I—argh…”

  #

  All the torches were out in the sublevel corridor. The lack of light was not an issue for Rexil and Shannon, who saw the fallen guard’s body on infrared. They bent and touched him.

  Vital signs weak.

  Shannon sent a wave of healing energy into his body, then they rose, sensing Revit and Aliana’s warder coming up behind them fast.

  “Rexil, duck!” Shannon shouted, sensing something odd through the vibrating alerting wardings.

  BAM.

  #

  You all right? Terus mentally asked, helping them to their feet.

  “Yeah, though, our wards took a beating,” Shannon said. “Rexil’s out cold.”

  Uh, Shannon… Ri’s voice whispered.

  “I know. I’ve got to revive him… This is so embarrassing.” The warder’s arms and legs twitched as the cowled head seemed to pivot to-and-fro.

  “Wha… um… mmmmm,” Rexil gasped. “Shannon?”

  The warder stopped gyrating, as Shannon replied, “Good… you’re, um, back.”

  “What, um, happened?” Rexil asked.

  That’s what I want to know, Terus said as he knelt beside the elfblood who had attacked Rexil. The guard behind them groaned, regaining consciousness.

  “Well, for one thing, this poor fellow’s well and truly dead,” Rexil said from the open cell ahead of them.

  Terus chuckled, Rexil, what did you hit this guy with?

  “Huh? He was draining our wards. So, I changed the gravity setting, at least that’s what the onboard whatever it is said I was doing.”

  Shannon added, “You… well, it felt more like you were… pushing me back against a wall.”

  He blushed. “Um, sorry about that.”

  Wondering where he was around her, she smiled, feeling her cheeks warming.

  #

  A warder came forward and bowed, “Your Majesty, a prisoner has been murdered. My colleagues have captured the killer… two guards were nearly killed, but my colleagues have healed them.”

  The Empress looked at her husband, then asked, “Which prisoner?”

  “The traitor, Lord Hayden, Your Majesty.”

  The Highmage gestured, “Meeting of the Empress’s advisors, immediately.”

  “Though, this is unfortunate, the festivities must continue. No one else may enter or leave the First Tier until I say so.”

  Herald Varian nodded.

  As they followed the Empress out of the gardens, George winced, then gestured to Greth, Lawson, the unicorn and Casber to join them.

  :You don’t believe in coincidence, do you?: Staff said.

  #

  “Lord Sianhiel, Lady Rowena, you are expected,” the Legionnaire guarding the door to the Empress’s Council Chamber said, opening the door for them.

  Among those who were already in the chamber were Lord Thomi, looking barely awake, drinking a cup of caf. Sianhiel and Rowena halted, staring at the unicorn and the boy patting her flank as the Lady Babylon stood, wrapped in a blanket, beside them.

  Lord and Lady Esperanza were seated at the table, a bowl of water in front of her. Head bent, Esperanza scried as Fri’il cradled her baby in her arms. Cle’or and Se’and stood guard behind George and the Empress, who looked impatiently at the two warders that were reporting to her.

  When the door closed behind them rather loudly, they glanced back, saw the trolls and gaped.

  George glanced at them. “The tall one’s my blood brother, Greth… The other is Lawson, my assistant, who should not be here at all.”

  “Now, George,” Lawson said, “I’m on a mission.”

  “Right,” he replied as the ogress and Walsh watched him and Greth carefully.

  Se’and shook her head, “See what I have had to put up with, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes, which makes me glad I have you three,” Raven raised her furred head, “I mean, four, to help keep him in line.”

  With a sigh, George said, “The boy’s Balfour’s nephew.”

  Sianhiel frowned, “The unicorn’s with the… boy?”

  Nodding, Balfour said, “Another Hand in the family; isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Oh, my,” Rowena gasped.

  The door opened again and Master Terhun entered. He glanced at everyone and shook his head, “I just wanted to get some sleep after the night we had around here and now this…”

  “You up-to-date?” the Empress asked.

  “Of course, Verny got me up to speed… and, now, I’ve Aaprin guarding and three warders guarding the prisoner and have Ruke doing some investigation work; although, that Mahr… not to disparage your daughter, Me’oh, but Mahr’s being rather difficult.”

  “She has that way about her,” Me’oh replied as Carwina offered to hold Rachiel.

  “So, Spymaster,” the Empress said. “Report.”

  “We’ve a dead elflord, which will complicate things.”

  “So, I heard. Has the assassin told us anything?”

  “He’s injured and we don’t really want him awakening any time soon. Though, we’re learning a lot about him without that…”

  The Empress sat back, “Such as?”

  Chapter 20 - Help on the Way

  “Fronkwin, this is insane!” Spiro yelled as Tett shook his head. “That’s a legend… a bardic tale wonderful for singing on a cold night.”

  The old dwarf sighed as they sat in the tavern in the Sixth Tier. “Spiro, calm down… It’s not a legend. I know because…” he suddenly whispered, “I was with Lord Tane when it happened.”

  Tett gaped as Spiro stared.

  “You two must go to Tane, retrieve the statue and smuggle it back here,” Fronkwin practically pleaded.

  “But…” Tett muttered. “That old… statute must weigh a ton.”

  “It’s lighter than you’d think,” Fronkwin assured them. “But you will need magery, if you are to have any chance of success.”

  Spiro sat back as Tett shook his head, “A charm isn’t going to help. We’ll need a mage… a powerful one.”

  Fronkwin looked at Spiro.

  Tett shook his head, “We can’t involve,” he whispered, “the Highmage.”

  Nodding, Fronkwin replied, “I agree… you’ll need another powerful mage.” He met Spiro’s gaze. “After all, everyone knows there’s no such thing as dwarven mages… just like there could never be human ones.”

  Spiro winced.

  #

  The palace wards were blocking proper scrying, but Esperanza was scrying within the palace and grounds, sensing nothing amiss, which might be true or, as had been evidenced throughout the course of the previous day and night, be false. She looked up and saw Thomi stiffen.

  His eyes went glassy, then he glanced right and left until he was looking at her.

  Esperanza?

  “Amira?”

  General Winterhil has sent a messenger through the Scryers Guild, who is being barred entrance to the First Tier. The Empress needs to know…

  Eyes wide, Esperanza said, “Your Majesty, General Winterhil has a messenger, who you need to grant entry to the Tier and see.”

  #

  “Your Majesty,” the scryer said, trying not to stare at the trolls, ogres, Raven, or the unicorn. At the Empress’s nod from her seat at the head of the large conference table, he took a deep breath and announced, “The General’s message is as follows: Lord Tane is reinforcing his border with Hayden with mercenies, militia, and units of the Imperial Guard. No forces have been moved toward the Capital Province. Kolter is recruiting under the banner of Lord Hayden and training five thousand men. His mages are obscuring scrying along the provincial border and over Hayden Keep, so it is possible he is raising more troops. However, it is Tane’s troop positioning that is of vital importance. It seems to indicate that Lord Tane is either
more loyal to Her Majesty or is playing a deeper game. Awaiting your orders, Winterhil…” The messenger took a deep breath, “There is one additional message from Primus at the Scryers Hall.”

  “Yes?” the Empress said.

  “There are two hundred calvary members heading toward the city under the banner of Lord Rian, escorting a carriage with the Rian crest and, what is best described as, a baggage train.”

  “Oh, oh,” Casber whispered, looking down at the table he was seated at, trying not to look across the room at Lawson.

  One of the warders twitched.

  “A bit late to take me up on the wedding invitation,” the Empress said, “especially with an escort that large.”

  “How long until they reach the city?” Terhun asked at the Empress’s right, opposite the Highmage.

  “The Primus believes a day or less, depending on whether they overnight in one of the towns… Message ends, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you. Wait outside, while I consider my response.”

  The messenger bowed and left them alone.

  “Terhun?” the Empress said.

  The spymaster frowned, “Well… let’s consider Winterhil’s message first. There are only two reasons I can think of for Lord Tane to mass troops on that border. Either he is about to have them join Kolter’s forces… or he has more to fear from Kolter as a neighbor.”

  “And someone just assassinated Lord Hayden,” George said. “If Tane suspected that Kolter was about to permanently supplant the province’s rightful lord…”

  “Lord Hayden is also Tane’s brother-in-law. What do you suppose is happening in Hayden’s Court?” Sianhiel said.

  Rowena answered, “I can guess… Hayden’s daughter is the heir. Kolter is likely planning to wed her to gain legitimacy.”

  “Which only really helps him, if Lord Hayden had an unfortunate accident,” Lee said.

  Terhun met George’s gaze.

  Greth leaned over to Lawson, “Any idea what they are talking about?”

  “None, but the Rian business…”

  The troll nodded, “You don’t think…”

  “Hard to say,” Lawson replied, watching Casber and the unicorn, who seemed particularly interested in the conversion going on around the table.

  The ogress came over and looked up only slightly to meet Greth’s gaze, “They announced you as Captain of Marines.”

  Greth nodded, “Yes, uh, Ma’am.”

  “Name’s Mallory… First Officer,” she replied.

  Glancing at Lawson, he said, “First Officer?”

  “Of the Colonizer Questor,” Mallory added.

  “Uh, Lawson… I mean, Assistant Engineer Lawson,” Greth said. “She can’t be, can she?”

  Lawson looked up at her, “So there’s an ogre who’s captain, I suppose?”

  “No,” Mallory replied, “Melvyn’s still human.”

  “Melvyn?” Greth gasped.

  “The Cursed Captain is just a legend,” Lawson said.

  The ogress frowned, “He doesn’t like being called that… then again, he hates it when I call him that.”

  Across the room Thomi stiffened in his seat and rasped in an odd voice, “Esperanza.”

  The Mistress of Scryers glanced at Thomi, “Amira?”

  “Alert message is being sent from the Consecrated’s Tower,” Thomi said in a more feminine voice. “Fenn du Blain’s forces are assaulting Bastian. You should be getting that message from the Scryer’s Hall with the next messenger,” Thomi said, then his head lolled.

  Balfour and Carwina quickly went over to him. “He’s fallen asleep,” Carwina said as Balfour nodded.

  The Empress frowned, “Do we have anyone else we can send north?”

  Terhun shook his head. “We have no troops to spare, Your Majesty.”

  Cle’or looked at Se’and, who nodded, “Would two or three hundred archers make a difference, though, most of them might be a bit young?”

  “Our troops and mages are spread the length of the Northern Wall,” Sianhiel said. “We have been bringing only the wounded and sick up the cliff face from Bastian. We cannot send more troops to be trapped down there.”

  “Somehow I do not think even expert archers are going to help with the situation at Bastian,” Lee said.

  “I’ll take whatever help is offered,” the Empress replied. “But they’ll need some Imperial help.”

  Terhun shook his head, “You planning to send an ambassador? Du Blain has proven less than trustworthy.”

  “He’s worse than that,” Se’and said. “He’s a madman.”

  The Empress nodded. “Which means we’ll have to trick him somehow.”

  “Meaning having the Highmage on hand should help,” George said.

  Casber cleared his throat, “If you want to trick Fenn du Blain, there’s someone who could help.”

  Se’and seated next to George, who frowned and muttered, “Truthsayer.”

  “Who’s somewhere in the Crescent Lands with Gwilliam, right?” Se’and said.

  “Glued at the hip,” Lawson remarked.

  “There’s no way we could track either of them down in time,” Terhun said.

  “Uh, the Seeress has likely foreseen this moment and is sending him here,” Casber said.

  “That’s crazy…” George heard himself say. “Sorry, fine, let’s say it’s true. Seeress, you are foreseeing this moment. We need Truthsayer.”

  Thomi jerked, eyes closed, and said in Amira’s intonation, “I’ve got a visitor here at the Keep. She says ‘Truthsayer will be at the Capital in two days. He’s riding a rather determined looking black battle steed, who doesn’t want to be gelded, Lord Highmage.’” Then Thomi’s head slumped back and he let out a snore.

  Balfour hurried over to Thomi, checked him, “He’s out cold.”

  Carwina glanced at Balfour, “Uh, I hate to mention this with this Truthsayer, whoever he is, apparently coming—”

  “He put Fenn in power,” Se’and said, “then, after we met him, helped us escape with two thousand Trelorian refugees.”

  “Oh, well, be that as it may, Highmages don’t leave the Capital. When our father was younger, he would send the Hand.”

  The unicorn nodded and nudged Casber forward, “Who, me?”

  George laughed. “No, you stay here. I’ll go with Truthsayer and that warder there. These two warders should stay here and keep Revit and Terus out of trouble while I’m away.”

  The warders just stood motionless.

  Terhun gave the Empress a slight bow, “Your Majesty, excuse me while I continue the investigation into the murder.”

  George rose, “Perhaps there’s something Staff and I might learn as well.”

  The Empress nodded.

  #

  Kolter stood at the tower window and looked down at his training troops arrayed below. By now the Empress’s scryers would believe he had only raised on the order of five thousand troops. He would throw at them twice that and they would be avenging the murder of their imprisoned lord.

  He smiled.

  He heard footsteps racing up the stairs. “What is it?”

  “Lady Haydenan is missing!”

  “What? Well, find her!” The guard turned to run back down the stairs. “Wait, she’ll run to her uncle. Send patrols east… and search the city in case she is just hiding.”

  “Yes, Milord!”

  #

  “Milady,” said the old tutor, who had accompanied her mother to Hayden long ago and retired from Court, but never his duties as a mage and spy for her uncle or her mother, “we must continue on.”

  “Drink, old friend, you are not as young as you used to be.”

  He nodded and drank from his elvin silver canteen. “Uh, but I’m still wiley enough to get you safely to your uncle.”

  “How long before they notice I am gone?”

  “By now they must know… but we still have time, cloaked as we are against scrying and simple sight.”

  She blinked back tea
rs, knowing what it meant once her mother stopped visiting her in the palace. She was either Kolter’s prisoner or… she was dead, which was the more likely. That left her one option, flee as quickly as she could to the one person her mother had trusted with getting a message to her uncle when things were bleak.

  Their bespelled horses stood, hooves just above the ground, as the old mage pretended that he was not using every last ounce of his lifeforce to accomplish their escape. That she knew he might gain them but another hour before collapsing seemed clear.

  “Milady, we cannot tarry.”

  She nodded and spurred her mount as did he. Would that she rode one of the steeds of legends, which were said to be able to ride at speed like the winds for days.

  #

  De’ohr stood outside the Empress’s Council Chamber, having arrived at the palace only moments before the Tier was closed. Reality seemed to pull at her soul and the Mother Shaman felt she was seeing double — triple. She closed her eyes and focused on the here, now, this now, no other possibilities.

  Se’and paused, seeing De’ohr standing there.

  The Mother Shaman took a deep breath, met her gaze and shook her head, while signaling with her fingers.

  Fri’il, Ri’ori, in her arms, frowned as De’ohr asked to speak with her.

  Cle’or whispered, “You and Ri’ori shouldn’t come with us, in any case.”

  Fri’il nodded, “Be careful.”

  “We will.”

  De’ohr gestured.

  #

  Balfour put his arm around his nephew as they left the Council Chamber. “Casber, why do I get the distinct impression you’re hiding something.”

  “What?” The unicorn clomped along, looking away as they continued down the hall.

  “Casber,” he half-whispered, “what do you know about Lord Rian?”

  The boy gave him an innocent look, “Um, who?”

  One of the warders followed close behind as the dwarf troll came up and said, “Oh, Casber, you must be starving.”

  “Definitely,” he replied.

  “Lawson,” Balfour muttered as Me’oh glared at the troll.

  “Why don’t you join us for lunch outside?” Lawson said with a quick glance around them. “After all, we could all use some fresh air, yes?”