by D. H. Aire
I think that’s the story of Lord Je’orj’s life.
#
“Milord, they bear the standard of Niota,” the captain of his guard said.
“What? Here? Erkiil got word they had a new lord and fought off a Trelorian invasion attempt,” the old man said. “Of course, he didn’t believe it. Especially when the scryers claimed the new lord was human.”
A mage rode up to his side, “A young man rides at the head of that escort… with an ogre.”
“An ogre; must be rather short for an ogre…”
“Uh, Milord, those horses are actually rather tall,” the captain said, squinting.
“Steeds? They ride battle steeds?”
The mage blanched, “Uh, Milord, the dwarf troll rides one.”
“I suggest not making him mad… Oh, keep him out of arm’s reach,” the old man said.
The captain called back, sharing the suggestion.
“Mage Rae, I think it best to let them at least see our true numbers.”
“Yes, Milord.” The mage raised his right hand and signaled forward.
The air soon rippled in front of them.
#
Thomi’s eyes widened. “Uh, Walsh, somehow I feel we don’t have enough men.”
He grimaced, glanced back at George in his black warder-looking robe, “They… not have.”
“Sergeant! Sergeant!”
Grigg rode forward. “Milord, will you look at that? Two thousand soldiers in Rian colors… with a Fifth Legion banner, to boot. You likely don’t know this, but there hasn’t been a Fifth Legion since they got themselves wiped out to a man four hundred years ago.”
“Amira, you getting this?”
‘Yes. Now, don’t get yourself killed.’
#
They rode to the nearest hilltop and dismounted as Lord Rian and a delegation there rode to meet them.
Thomi raised his right hand as Rian drew his mount to a halt. “You, Lord Niota?”
“Yes, Milord… the Empress, uh, offers greetings.”
“I’m sure she does.”
He glanced at the black robed figures. “The Empress has grown a fine sense of guile… dressing mages as warders.”
“Milord?”
“Does she really think they’ll fool anyone?”
Two warders came forward, one bearing an intricately carved staff. “I suppose not,” the one said as his staff began to glow, “after all, how long has it been since the Capital’s walls glowed offering the light through their renewed wards.”
“What?” the old lord muttered.
“The Empress has warder mages once more.”
“This that Highmage she’s just married doing? The rumors we’ve heard, well, are hard to credit.”
Thomi swallowed, “Oh, he’s quite the mage. Friend of mine, actually.”
“Really?” the elflord grinned.
“Really,” Lawson called out as Lord Rian’s guards stared at him.
Yel’ane stood in front of him, his arm around her, covering her in his cloak. She muttered, “I need to lace up my bodice.”
“You want me—” he whispered back.
“No, don’t you dare.”
Lord Rian walked past Thomi and came up to Lawson. “You killed my predecessor.”
“He threatened a child.” Frowning, he gestured, “Actually, this one.”
“I’m his wife now,” Yel’ane said, and half turned to say, “and I’m not a child.”
His delegation went bug-eyed. “His wife?”
“Cathart tradition rewards—” Yel’ane announced, “those who save us from rape and murder.”
“Uh huh, so you’ve married a troll.”
Re’ut interposed herself between them. “Not her alone. And his name is Lord Lawson.”
Lawson frowned as Lord Rian stepped back, “Well met then, Lord Lawson… You deserve more rewards than this for freeing our province of the madman.”
“How are you related to Lord Erkiil?” Thomi asked at a mental nudge.
“I was his mother’s sister’s son.”
“Which makes you Lord of Rian now, how?”
“His grandfather was rather fond of his mother’s sister… and dared not acknowledge me publicly, though he did to the Temple of Knowledge in Rian, which lineage document well. Else, he would have killed me rather than placed me in charge of collecting the Imperial duty.”
“So, what brings you to the Capital?” Thomi asked.
“Sadly, I could not attend the wedding, but I brought her a gift.”
“A wedding gift?”
“Fifteen hundred Legionnaires,” he gestured, “Fifth Legion.”
“There hasn’t been a Fifth in hundreds of years.”
“Yes, killed to a man in the last war. Their wives and children took it rather personally when they came home as widows and orphans… The Empress’s great grandmother was not particularly kind. My ancestors, however, were… They were offered a place under the auspices of the Office of Duties for the Great Way.”
“In other words,” the Legionnaire captain offered, “we were ignored, but under arms, if only allowed to privately display our banner.”
Lord Rian nodded, “These are all I could spare. The other seven thousand are seeing that Erkiil’s double dealing friends outside the Empire never bother us again.”
George began laughing. “Exactly what happened to the old lord’s soldiers after his death?”
“Everyone with a brain either poisoned their officers or stabbed them in the back. My Legionnaire friends did the rest.”
“What happened to their mages?”
“We ganged up on our masters,” the Rian’s mage said. “What Erkiil intended for the unicorn… It was unconscionable and Lord… Lawson’s example was rather encouraging.”
“You imprisoned them?” George asked.
“We had warded them in the Temple of Knowledge, but this battle steed burst through the wards. The next thing we knew they were all sick… and the next day they were gone,” the mage said. “Though, there was a crazy report that a herd of horses had fled down the Great Way in the dark of night.”
That was greeted with a long silence, which brought frowns to the Riani faces.
“They are lying,” one of the warders suddenly announced.
“You accuse me?” Lord Rian cried.
“Your gift is not the reason you are here. You could have sent them without you ever leaving the province.”
The elflord frowned. “My reasons for coming are personal.”
“Then you would not mind our reviewing your troops?” the warder half-demanded.
George frowned. ‘Terus? Is there a problem I should know about?’
‘It’s Ri… she’s rather upset and won’t explain.’
“Review my troops? Are you a Legion general to expect such?” the old lord demanded.
“No,” the warder admitted. “But it is his due,” pointing at George.
“What?”
George lowered his cowl, “I would see this gift for my wedding.”
“Your wedding?”
Se’and stepped forward, “This is Je’orj du Bradlei, Lord of the House of Je’orj, husband and consort to Her August Imperial Majesty, The Empress of Aqwaine, and Highmage of the Empire.”
“You… you are the human mage?”
Lawson announced, “He’s also a friend of my People.”
Walsh added, “Ogre friend… too.”
Raven dropped out of the sky, flapped her wings and settled on Walsh’s shoulder, “Her friend… too.”
She squawked, “Wife.”
George shrugged, “Um, yeah… Can I review the troops now?”
Lord Rian gaped, “Certainly, Milord Highmage.”
Chapter 30 - Secrets Revealed
“Fifteen hundred thirty-four with their apprentice scryers and mages,” Lord Rian stated as they walked past rows of Legionnaires standing at attention as the sun passed mid-day.
Sergeant Grill checked the look of their u
niforms, equipment, and weapons, some of which was new centuries before.
“The scryers didn’t work for Erkiil,” the elflord continued. “They were just in training… They are orphans without real ties back in Rian, willing to forge a new life with this cadre. The rest are my personal guard.”
:George, I’m not sensing any deception here… They emanate such pride.:
George coughed, “I feel it,” cough, “too.”
“You all right, Milord Highmage?”
“Swallowed wrong.”
“Oh, of course.”
‘I don’t trust him. Rian’s a cesspool!’ Ri sent.
‘Ri, how do you know that?’ Terus demanded.
George frowned, “Lord Rian, what brings you to the Capital?”
“I really would rather not say.”
“I’m sorry, but it is important I know… It will help the Empress trust you and your well-timed gift.”
The elflord sighed, “I had a daughter. You must understand how dangerous life in Erkiil’s Court was… As cousin to Erkiil, he could… arrange a marriage for her. He did. She tried to leave the Empire, but Erkiil’s spies caught her before I knew what had happened. The match was… forced. She had a child. And tragically Erkiil found the elfblood had a gambling problem, used to betray his patron. Erkiil killed him out of hand and sought a new marriage for my daughter. It was worse than the first. The family had an accident, which I believe Erkiil had arranged… Actually, my daughter did. She sent my granddaughter off to school in the Capital with an annual stipend. My daughter would have come with her, but… she was ill. Seriously ill from abuse… abuse I cannot imagine and would have killed her second husband with my bare hands to end had I learned of it in time.”
The elflord paused, his face flush with anger.
“I seek my heir in the city.”
“What did your daughter call her child?”
“Her name is Liriana… she called her Ri,” he frowned.
The warder rocked. “Highmage?”
“Uh, might we have some refreshments, Milord?”
“Why, of course,” he replied, clearly puzzled.
#
The warder said, “Lady Se’and, what can I wear?”
“Re’ut?” she called. The Cathartan rushed to her side, “Does Yel’ane have a dress? Or any of the Sisters that might fit a girl of about so high?” Se’and gestured.
“Fit who?”
Se’and sighed, “Don’t ask. We’ve headaches enough.”
#
Le’ann helped Yel’ane lace up her bodice. She blinked seeing Lawson’s hairless, rather pink skinned, well muscled chest. She swallowed. “Oh, my. You don’t look particularly trollish.”
He frowned as Yel’ane blushed.
“I had a rash,” Lawson muttered.
“Not from that new cloak, I hope.”
“No. It was from the use of soap and water.”
“Well, at least you aren’t rank.”
Yel’ane saw Lawson smile, “I so long to have the girls back… I can be rid of you, then.”
Le’ann grimaced, “I will not abandon them, Lord Lawson. You seem to need a firm hand. Yel’ane, that’s something you will have to work on.”
Shaking her head, Yel’ane glared at her, “I think my lord husband is just fine the way he is.” She placed a hand on his chest, “He’s proved himself a dozen times over.”
The woman stalked off as the warder came into the tent, “I was told you have a dress your cousins gifted you at your safe return.”
“Yes, I, uh, do.”
“I need to borrow it.”
“You? You need it?”
The warder’s robe shook and two naked elfbloods dropped to the ground. “Uh, hi,” said Terus, “this is my fiancée Ri.”
Lawson took off his cloak. “You need this more than me.”
“Thanks,” Terus said as Ri half hid behind him.
Yel’ane hurried to her pack, rummaged through it and drew out the dress. It was of human manufacture. It was rather plain with a short skirt and fine laces. “Here, it looks like it should fit.”
Ri looked at it, “Can you help me put it on?”
“Happy, to.”
Lawson was looking elsewhere. “Uh, I could have sworn I saw that robe become a pressure suit before it vanished.”
“It apparently was. Melyn said he lost a bunch of them.”
“Melvyn? He and I should chat sometime. I wonder what else he’s lost.”
“Oh, I need…” Ri realized.
Yel’ane nodded, “I have just the thing.”
She went rummaging in her pack again and pulled out undergarments she had also been gifted. “Never worn. They’re yours.”
Ri put them on and Yel’ane finished helping lace the dress at the shoulders. She glanced at Terus, “Uh, thanks… What do you think?”
He blinked, “You look, um, lovely.”
She grinned, “You’re not planning to wear that thing?”
He frowned, concentrating and the cloak stretched around him, forming a single piece jerkin and pants. “How’s this?”
“It will do,” she replied, holding out her hand.
“Where you go, I go.”
#
Lord Rian offered the Highmage and the black robed woman, her cowl pulled back, refreshments in his hastily erected and well warded, command tent. “You will find the juice is particularly delicious… the fruit comes from the Hollif trade.”
“Thank you,” George said.
The elflord introduced his cleric, his only companion for the meeting. “My only friend all these years, Father Grinyal.”
“Temple of Knowledge, I presume,” George said.
“Last such priest in Rian, which meant Lord Erkiil considered me little better than a librarian.”
“Which meant Erkiil ignored him,” Lord Rian said. “Now, if you have assured yourself that the wards are solid, what’s this all about?”
George frowned, scratching his chin as his staff glowed ever so faintly, “Your wards are far stronger now… and what we say must be kept in strictest confidence.”
“As you will, Milord,” the old elflord said.
“Terus,” George said.
A boy, a girl right behind him, appeared next to him. For a moment they appeared naked, then clothed in white.
Gaping, Lord Rian said, “Where did you two come from?”
“Hello, Milord,” Ri said. “You wouldn’t happen to have a scar on your little finger of that hand there?”
He held it up. “Yes, how did you know?”
“You… used to like tweaking your granddaughter’s nose.” Frowning, he nodded, staring at her. “I used to stare at it— and you told me a fanciful tale of how you came by it.”
“Ri?” he gasped. “How?”
There were tears in her eyes. “Tell me the name of the place you cut your finger?”
“Oompapaland,” he rasped, eyes wide.
“Where they made you their blood brother.”
“Ri?”
She nodded, the tears flowing, “Grandpa.”
He hurried to her and swept her up in his arms, “You’re alive!”
She hugged him, “I thought you dead.”
“How did you get here so quickly?” he gasped, blinking back his own tears.
“I’m… I’m one of the Highmage’s apprentices.”
He set her down, placing his hands on her shoulders, “I feared I’d never find you… feared somehow Erkiil had… done something to you. But he never boasted of such a thing.”
Ri swallowed and glanced at Terus. “Grandpa, this is Terus… He’s a journeyman and senior apprentice to Lord Je’orj. He’s also my, uh, fiancé.”
The elflord blinked. “Your fiancé? Fiancé? What?” He glared at George. “Is this some kind of human tradition?”
“No… elvin. They were at my wedding.”
“The prelate,” Ri said, glancing sidelong at Terus, “was rather firm on the matter of our
engagement.”
“This complicates matters… do you love him?”
She blinked, looked down, “He can be… so damn infuriating, but,” she looked up and met Terus’s unflinching gaze, “I can’t imagine ever being separated from him.”
“It would be agony for the two of us,” Terus said with a twisted smile.
She nodded, “And he loves me.”
Terus swallowed. “And she loves me, too.”
Lord Rian frowned, “Young mages in love… But, boy, you hurt her, I’ll bury you.”
“If I hurt her, I’ll hand you the shovel,” Terus heard himself say, voice catching.
Ri rushed back and hugged him.
“Fine, then,” Lord Rian said, “I’ll have both of you return home with me where I can announce Liriana as my heir.”
#
The mage watched the warded tent and silently cursed. He should be able to hear what was going on. It was his warding, after all.
He was careful to smile at the Legionnaires, both the veterans escorting the Highmage and those of the Fifth Legion. He closed his eyes a moment, willed the warding to open at his command, only to be rebuffed again.
That’s when he decided to bide his time… he needed the time to think about the implications of magery that powerful by the Empress’s emissaries, especially the fellow who they joked was a dwarf troll. Then again, the Highmage was apparently human.
#
Lawson no sooner stepped from beneath the shade of the tent into the sunlight than Yel’ane said, “Your skin will burn without your cloak.”
“What?”
“Come back… you’ll need ointment.”
“Yel’ane.”
She frowned, “Let’s… discuss it, Milord.”
The discussion was short. Yel’ane called out to the Sisters, who went to their packs for the sun ointment. Soon Re’ut was demanding he kneel on the ground as Le’ann returned, grimacing. “We should cut his hair.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my hair.”
“It’s an unkempt mess,” Le’ann said, “Yel’ane, you should have combed it out when he bathed.”
“Um,” Yel’ane muttered.
Re’ut said, “She had enough to deal with… Fine, we won’t cut it. Perhaps… you’ll let us braid it.”
“Braid my hair?” Lawson rasped.
“A warrior’s braid like in the old stories,” Re’ut said, glancing at Le’ann.