by D. H. Aire
“Farrel…”
People were staring. The sweating steed backed from the very edge of the retracted bridge.
George slumped. Staff no longer ablaze between them. The sound of hooves grew loud as the two other warders on their battle steed reached them.
“Milady, is he… all right?”
She glanced back. “How far have we come?”
“At least fifteen leagues,” the other warder replied.
“Where can we find the nearest Inn? My companion needs to rest.”
A bridge warden gestured as another cried, “Ship’s cleared. We can lay the bridge out again!”
With a groaning sound that Se’and was not completely sure came from the stone reaching back across to its mate on the far shore, she gently urged their steed back and toward the nearby town.
#
From there hiding place they heard a woman crying. “What do you think that was all about?” Tett whispered.
Spiro’s gaze was doing a bit of a dance, which he knew wasn’t simply from their being on the river. “Likely just a lover’s spat,” he half-lied. “Now shut up and let me think…” Oh, just great, Lady Farrel is she now? Well, at least we’re getting off in Tane. Now, isn’t that a cheery thought.
#
“Uh, Sergeant?”
Grigg pulled out a chit and handed it to the Innkeeper, “Go to the local Legion office, they will pay our expenses, which our lordling will sign for… after I review it. Carefully review it.”
The Innkeeper gulped, “There will be no problem, Sergeant.” He eyed the warders… not just rumored warder mages, but living breathing… “No problems at all. Enjoy our hospitality.”
Lawson entered, “I could have handled the stabling myself, Yel’ane.”
“But we’re happy to do all that for you,” she replied as Le’ann followed closely behind them.
The Innkeeper blanched. “What’s that?”
Grigg glanced back, “Oh, never seen a Cathartan before?”
“Cath… no, tha— watch your head! Uh, Sir!”
“I am… ow… Yel’ane stop walking so close.”
“Sorry, Milord.” She glared at the Innkeeper, “Why did you build this place so short?”
With a gulp, “Uh, it was built long before my time, uh, Miss. Sorry.”
Lawson went up the stairs, ducking periodically to avoid hitting his head, “Greth, would be sleeping outside.”
Another Cathartan entered came up to the innkeeper and said, “We’ll need a tub… a very big tub.”
“Tub?”
“I’m sure for a troll he thinks he smells fine.”
Thud.
Re’ut shook his head, “My, he’s fainted dead away.”
Grigg commiserated. “I think what you’re going to need is a horse trough.”
“Excellent idea. Have your men bring one up to our room.”
“Uh, yes, Ma’am,” he replied, having decided never ever to argue with a Cathartan. A warder looked down at him from the top of the stair. He just gave a nod, which the warder returned before becoming rather immobile, going on guard. He ordered his men to fetch the trough… emptied, which earned him a thank you.
The Innkeeper stirred, “Uh, what…”
Grigg helped him to his feet. “You seemed to have taken a fright.”
No sooner had the Legionnaires cleared the entrance when all the light was suddenly blocked. Walsh shouldered his way in, which caused the door to tear from its upper hinges.
“What?” the Innkeeper muttered, eyes going wider than saucers.
“Add it to the bill,” Grigg said, suddenly losing his grip.
Thud.
“Wonderful. I just love being back in the Legion.”
#
Se’and helped him stumble to the bed as he leaned against his staff. She sat him on the edge of the bed and took Staff, placing it behind her. George fell back, unconscious.
“Great. Where are my Sisters when I need them?”
There was a thump outside the window. She went over, drew the shade, facing Raven folding her wings. She opened the window. Se’and stepped aside as Raven shimmered, then bound, naked, into the room.
“All right?” the girl asked.
“He will be… he’s too stubborn not to.”
Raven went over and touched his cheek. “Cold.”
“He’ll be fine. But we need to help him get warm… I could use your help.”
Raven nodded and together they stripped him of his robe, jerkin and the pants he refused to give up, which came from his former world. They settled him under the covers. Raven sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Thank you,” Se’and said.
The girl shrugged, then began to cry.
Se’and hurried over and hugged her. “Fri’il will be fine.”
“Farrel… name now.”
“Not very Cathartan.”
Raven nodded, wiping tears, “Now is.”
“Hmm, I suppose so… first of many changes to come.”
With a sniff, Raven asked, “Does… he know?”
“Know what?”
“You pregnant.”
Eyes gone narrow, Se’and replied, “Nothing gets by you, does it?”
“No… I married him… did… I not?”
“Engaged, I think is the proper term. We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”
She shrugged as Se’and took off her robe, loosened her bodice and climbed under the blankets. “I hate it when he goes too deep into rapport.” She began chaffing his arms as Raven slipped under the sheets on his other side.
Raven made a face, “Feels… odd.”
Se’and’s eyes widened, “Raven.”
The girl sniffed, ducking her head under the blankets.
“Raven.”
In a muffled voice, “What?”
She thought carefully, ducking under, “Stop that.”
“He smells… different. Hmm, he smells… musky.”
“Raven!” she drew the girl away.
Raven frowned. “You sniff. See.”
“Uh, Raven, why don’t you just come lay down. We can both generate the heat he needs without… uh, well, let’s give this a try.”
Raven nestled close. She looked at Se’and’s bosom. “Je’orj likes such things.”
Se’and sighed and hugged her close. “Yes… he does seem to. You are growing up so fast.”
Raven stopped, shifted position, canted her head, turned and…
Se’and gasped. “No licking.”
“Why?” she said turning back. “He needs… grooming… And you… Farrel… even Lorraina groom him… Though, Cle’or does it differently—”
“Um, yes. He, uh, does periodically require, uh, grooming. But, well, we’re married to... oh.”
“Yes, I, too… So… why… can’t I?”
“Uh, with human males… you need to be a bit older.”
“So, I… can’t play… with him… like you do?”
“Play?”
“You know… wrestle… with him.”
“Wrestle. No, you need to be older… much older.”
Raven frowned, turning away from her under the blankets. Se’and realized she was reaching…
“Raven, rest.”
“Huh? Am… resting. Just wondering about his snake.”
“Rest, Raven…” She drew back the girl’s questing hand. “And, please, don’t mention we had this little conversation. He’ll thank you for it one day. Won’t he Staff?”
:Most definitely.:
#
“Yel’ane, he reeks,” Re’ut said in their adjoining room.
“But…” the young woman began.
“You married him,” Le’ann said. “That makes it your problem.”
“But… but…”
“Look,” Re’ut said as the Legionnaires brought in the trough which was big enough to allow five horses to drink. “We’ll see to filling it and find soap somewhere… and be sure to wash behind his
ears.”
“Uh…”
Le’ann said, “And it would be a good time to make it official.”
Gulp. Yel’ane went a bit pale.
Le’ann shook her head. “Just get him in that tub and fulfill your oath.”
#
Thomi saw the Legionnaire struggling to get the trough through the front door as the Innkeeper groaned.
Grigg rasped, “Add it to our bill.”
“Uh, Walsh, can you help them with that?”
The ogre grinned, “Where… take?”
The Legionnaires gratefully pointed.
“Don’t just stand there. Fetch pales of water… lots of water,” Grigg ordered as Lady Re’ut came to the top of the stairs and turned to the immobile warder.
“Can you heat the water for the tub?”
A moment passed, “You’re planning to give Lawson a bath?”
“Yes,” she replied, frowning.
“Happy to heat all you’ll need.”
#
‘Revit!’
‘What? Aw, this is gonna to be fun.’
‘Revit.’
“Happy to heat all you’ll need,” he replied aloud.
The Cathartan said, “Uh, thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
‘Revit! No, childish tricks.’
‘Who needs tricks? Lawson is going to explode… Just wait until I tell Terus.’
#
The floor shook. “What’s that about?” Lawson muttered as Yel’ane entered his room.
“What? Oh, the ogre seems to be moving around, uh, furniture.”
“He’s the intelligence of a gnatling,” Lawson griped, checking his equipment. “Has anyone said anything about how long we’re going to be staying here?”
“At least until morning, I heard someone say...” she replied. “Uh, your cloak, it’s looking rather… dusty. Might I have them clean it?”
He frowned. “Clean it?”
“Beat the dust out? You’re not going to need it until morning.”
“Fine.” He took it off. “But bring it back as soon as possible.”
“Certainly,” she replied, hurrying out with it only to see the bucket brigade, a joint Cathartan and Legionnaire project passing the pails of water from outside, up the stairs into the adjoining room.
The second warder stood outside the room just down the hall as his companion went into the adjoining room. The emptied buckets were being passed back down as Re’ut took the cloak, which was longer than Yel’ane was tall, from her. “Hawoo, I think we should burn this.”
“No, no, we can’t,” Yel’ane said, plaintively.
“We’ll buy him a small carpet to wear, he’ll never miss it.”
“A carpet?”
Re’ut passed the cloak to one of her Sisters. “I saw a place that looked promising. Find something nice this size. Keep the chain clasp; this discolored metal looks carefully wrought.”
The young woman, nose wrinkling, left with it.
Yel’ane took a deep breath and went back inside, wondering how she was going to get his pants and jerkin.
Chapter 26 - Questions of Trust
Ebb stared. “Rolf said what?”
The urchin repeated the odd greeting.
“Irin’s father, Rolf?” he muttered.
“Is there another, Ebb? And he gave me a whole loaf; it wasn’t even a day old… It was still warm from the oven.”
A chill went down Ebb’s spine. That miser never would forego earning an Imperial penny for even a slice. “No one followed you?”
“I doubled back and even slipped through the Dwarven Quarter before coming back here. The dwarven would have raised a cry iff’n I was mage marked.”
“You did well. Now stay out of sight for awhile.” The boy nodded as Ebb left the safety of their newest hiding places wards. “If a lady might be looking for something,” he said, speaking to the open sky, “it’s in the Sixth… at Rolf’s.”
#
The young scryer gasped, pulling his gaze away from his bowl of water, “Relay!”
A scryer, a young elfblooded woman, was just coming on duty, “Message?”
“Get the Mistress!” he said, gasping for breath. “We’ve a private message for her.”
The scryer filled a bowl and took her place at the table, craned her head and began staring into the water. “Ready.”
He filled a glass with brandy, drank it, shaking after hours of searching throughout the city for anything untoward… of which the last two days were a trial on all the scryers in the Capital and those hastily raised apprentices, now elevated to journeyman.
“Message is from Terhun’s agent, Ebb… what she seeks is in the Sixth… at Rolf’s.”
The younger scryer nodded.
#
Terhun said, “Majesty, Lord Niota’s party has apparently taken a circuitous route. Lord Rian will otherwise reach the city late tomorrow.”
The Empress shook her head, “Lonny, you should have gone with them.”
“No, I’m a child of one prophecy. I daren’t interfere with another.”
“A prophecy?” she replied.
“Yes, Majesty, a battle steed prophecy… in the form of, well, a promise made and, well, the sacrifice I made to find the impossible Highmage.”
Terhun frowned.
“Lord Terhun,” a page dared to interrupt. “Lady Esperanza needs you immediately.”
“Excuse me, Your Majesty.”
#
She looked up from her scrying bowl at Terhun’s arrival. “Ebb’s found something he says I’m seeking at Rolf’s in the Sixth Tier.”
“Nothing more specific?”
“No, which is why I’ve tried to scry the place and found I can’t. It’s warded.”
“I didn’t know Rolf could afford that,” Terhun mused. “Or if he could, would waste the coin to.”
“It doesn’t have the feel of established wards… more of a personal shielding.”
Frowning, Terhun said, “We’re running out of loyal mages and this sounds like something requiring someone of… tact.”
“I know just the mage for it.”
His eyes widened, “A young, newly married archmage, perhaps?”
She smiled. “I think the couple is rather inseparable, at the moment.”
“I can work with that,” he grinned. “And he’s Faeryn… Hmm, that could help with another thorny matter.”
#
Talik glanced at Fleural, who Terhun granted the boon of selecting weapons from the palace armory. Her choices raised eyebrows.
“Uh, Fleural, dare I ask where you’re going to put that?” her husband asked.
“Don’t bother yourself worrying I’ll hurt myself. I’m rather well trained.”
She turned her back, raised the hem of her dress and the tenth blade vanished behind, but this time without a sheath.
She grabbed a fourth brace of throwing knives before they walked out. “Faeryn wrought.”
“We do our best to design them well,” Talik replied as they came upon their escort of six rather young looking Imperial Legionnaires and one shorter than they had seen so far black robed warders. “Uh, I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“We’re part of the latest… batch,” the warder replied in that distinctive gravelly voice of theirs.
“And just how many friends do you have?” Talik asked.
“Eleven,” the warder replied. “Horses await us.”
Fleural said, “I was so looking forward to a battle steed.”
#
Tristan Y. Tane could not help but sweat. He would leave this temporary sanctuary after sunset. He would steal a boat and float away… It had been so much easier even a year past, when bribes would have worked. But that was before this trumped up human highmage something managed to bring back warder mages, who renewed the Capital’s wards and... worse… could tap the long forgotten node buried deep under the city.
He paced, clutching his glo
wing shielding ward, not noticing that it suddenly dimmed and deactivated.
The door burst open as the warder mage strode forth, “By order of the Empress, you are our prisoner.”
Tristan gestured, calling out a curse.
The warder raised a gloved hand and there was a burst of dark acrid smoke. “As I said, you are our prisoner.”
Eyes narrowed, he tossed a charm at the window. The wall exploded outward, he made to leap outside as the first dagger flew out of the smoke. Tristan ducked it, only for the second to clip his leg. With a cry, he fell, but quickly moved behind the undamaged left side of the gaping hole.
He broke a spelled chain from about his neck and tossed it through the hole and heard a crackling sound, and slapped a second charm against his bleeding leg, which suddenly healed.
Two more daggers shot past him as the warder calmly walked forward, “You cannot escape.”
He grinned and dove through the hole and slid on the ramp of ice that now connected to the building across the street.
Flame abruptly rose around him, melting the ice in an instant. He rasped out the final word of the chant and changed form. His robe flowed into leathery wings as he spread them and banked right.
Daggers struck him, bouncing off as he began to soar.
The warder floated beside him, “You cannot escape.”
He squealed in shock, realizing the city wards were twisting beneath the black cloaked mage’s feet, making it appear he could fly… could match his every wingbeat. The ward veered toward him, he turned and slammed against the wall of a building he had not even seen.
“Oof,” he slumped to the ground, his true shape emerging as those on the streets witnessing what had happened, raced off.
Talik lowered his hands.
“Nice touch,” Fleural said.
“A well done illusion can be worth a dozen mages.”
The warder settled back to the street, came forward, and knelt over the semi-unconscious elflord, “You are under arrest by order of the Empress, Count Tristan.”
Tristan groaned as their escort rode up. “Milord, the tavernkeeper is demanding rencompense for the damages.”
“Tell, Master Rolf, he can try to take that up with the Empress and her sense of humor.”
#
Esperanza looked up, “We have Tristan.”
Terhun nodded. “And Lord Tane’s troops are massing against Hayden.”
She nodded, “And, the latest scrying shows Kolter’s sending thousands of his new troops toward Tane. General Winterhil is trying to decide if he should send some of our troops in that direction as well, in case this is some kind of feint.”