The Blackguard (Book 2)

by Cheryl Matthynssens

  Alador’s eyes widened at the idea that someone could sell another being. He knew slavery existed – for all intents and purposes, Keelee wasn’t much more than a slave, herself, but at least she had a choice. He felt something rise up in him, cold and dangerous, at the thought of anyone being forced to serve another. The same thing was happening to the dragons, tied down and forced to a life that was not natural to them. Alador leaned forward. “You have my attention,” he growled out. His hands wrapped around the base of his mug.

  Sordith had been watching him closely. “I see you like the idea about as much as I do. I need your help. If you cannot, then all I ask is that you forget that this conversation happened.”

  “What do you need?” Alador’s tone was cold. His vision swam with the images of staked-out dragons, and he was hard-pressed to keep the pressure of Renamaum’s rage in check. He absently turned the mug in his hands.

  “I thought maybe you could get us in, and I would go as your bodyguard. As the High Minister’s nephew, I am sure that the Stable Lord will be proud to show off his success to you and, as such, would give us both access to kill him. With me there, it will give the added look of legitimacy – I have stood with the Trench Lord as he made these transactions. Coming with you would only add the appearance of legitimacy,” Sordith answered.

  “A stable lord?” Alador asked with confusion. “I don’t understand. What does a stable lord have to do with selling people?”

  “It is a breeding stable, Alador. A breeding stable for people. They’re making half-breeds for the High Minister’s special army.” Sordith’s lip curled at the thought. “There is one small matter in addition.”

  “What is that?” Alador was stunned by this news. His mind raced over questions – Did his uncle know? Was he aware of what this Stable Lord was doing? He had to be. There was little in the city that was going on that Luthian did not know. His eyes returned to Sordith as he finished his drink to answer.

  “The Stable Lord, Veaneth, has some ability to take away the will of another. I thought with your training in magic, you might be able to protect us somehow. I have no skills in magic; mine are in a swift dagger and a sharp eye.” Sordith kept his voice low so that only the two of them could hear.

  “What about other guards?” Alador was taking to his lessons well, and his father had given him a further edge in their private sessions. He knew that Sordith was right. If this was happening with his uncle’s approval, Alador would probably be able to waltz right in, unless Veaneth had been directed to refuse him entry

  “Never more than ten that I’ve been able to count. If we plan right, we can have Veaneth down before the rest are even aware there’s a problem. If we plan really well, perhaps we could even kill him and slip back out before the others know.” Sordith was using the table as a vague floor plan.

  “One problem,” Alador answered thoughtfully.

  “What is that?” Sordith eyed Alador. He was clearly not a man to disregard another’s views.

  “We’re not leaving those who’ve been enslaved; they’ll just put someone new in charge,” Alador pointed out. “Ten might be a bit much for just two of us.”

  Sordith frowned. “I can take out maybe six after we drop Veaneth. Surely with your recent training and magic you could manage three or four?”

  “I have a better idea,” considered Alador softly.

  “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

  “We bring a death mage.” Alador grinned slowly. “One that’s rather good at silencing those that might set off an alarm.”

  “Do you think he would come? Do you trust him?” Sordith sat back, considering. “I mean, I know for a fact that Aorun has men in the Blackguard.”

  “I know this, too, but Jon is not one of them.” Alador was certain of this.

  “All right then.” Sordith slowly nodded. “When do you want to put this dog down?” He asked softly.

  “At my next half-day when I am supposed to visit my father. He’ll be out of the area, but I haven’t told my afternoon instructors that yet.” In fact, he’d had every intention of going every week unless someone found out that his father was out of the city, only because he’d wanted to have a night alone. No Keelee, no merrymaking classmates and no homework. Just a day where he could relax or read from his father’s fantastic library.

  “So, in a week? That will give me time to put into additional scouting and to see if there are any better times of the day to hit him. Where should I meet you?” Sordith seemed to already be calculating.

  “Do you know where the mage Henrick, my father, lives?” Alador asked, also making his own plans. He had much to do if he was going to try to use his magic in battle. One thing was to ask his father to teach him how to protect against this power Veaneth apparently had.

  “I follow you every week. So yes, I know where he lives.” Sordith grinned, his eyes strangely warm considering his position as one of Aorun’s men.

  Alador sighed. “Yes, don’t remind me. I’ll meet you there, then. It will give our visit more legitimacy if the Trench Lord’s man comes properly and not scooting about like some ghost.” Alador eyed the man. His copper eyes were a little unnerving.

  “Ghost. I like that term.” Sordith drained his mug. “Best we not be seen too long together. I can explain away a short encounter. I will see you in a week.”

  Alador nodded pushing away his mug. He rose to his feet. “I had best make my way to my father’s before he becomes concerned.”

  Sordith looked from mug to Alador, and then back. “You going to drink that?”

  Alador shook his head. “I’m not much of a drinker, truth be told.”

  Sordith frowned, grabbed the mug, and upended it. He slammed it down on the table. “Never waste a pint, my dear man. Bad luck.” With that, Sordith rose and headed through the crowd. Alador was still shaking his head as the man slid out the door. He pulled on his cloak and followed suit.

  Alador arrived at his father’s lost in thought. He didn’t knock anymore; it was his home, too. Actually, it was the only home he knew now, other than the small room in the caverns. Alador delighted in these times away, though he was also glad to be taught at the Blackguard. The things he’d been learning were important, and his instructors were good at what they taught. He knew his mastery of magic was tenfold what it has been upon his arrival. Alador had a lot to learn and a long way to go, but he was motivated.

  However, this afternoon his thoughts were on Sordith’s words. Was this a trap? The man had seemed sincere, and deep inside Alador felt like he could trust him though he couldn’t explain that to anyone. He wasn’t quite sure himself as he made his way to his father’s study. As usual, the room was warmer than the rest of the house.

  His father sat by the fire his pipe in hand and was reading. He looked up as Alador entered and put down his book. “You are late.”

  “I had some business to attend.” Alador liked the way his father would make simplistic statements of the obvious.

  Henrick eyed him and frowned. “Everything all right? I can wait to go east if you wish. I know your mother will be disappointed, but I can make it up to her.”

  “No, no, you go ahead and go. Besides, I want you to check and make sure that everyone is all right.” Alador didn’t add that he was looking forward to sometime in the house by himself. Even the servants would be away a great deal visiting their own families.

  Henrick paused to puff on his pipe, clearly considering. “She still has not written?” Henrick eyed his son with genuine concern.

  “No. Almost ten weeks, and still nothing.” Alador plopped down into the chair dejectedly.

  “I am sure she is fine. You knew your magic might come between you.” Henrick moved over to the fire to tap out his pipe. He returned to his seat to repack it, pulling out a bag of tobacco.

  “I know. I guess I just thought…That it wouldn’t matter. Maybe I shared too much, too fast.” Alador leaned forward, putting his face in his hands. “I am so tired.”


  “You know, if you wanted to send that body servant my way so you could get some sleep...” Henrick trailed off and grinned, looking at his son, his tone teasing as he lit his pipe again.

  “I am not sharing a woman with my father. That’s just…wrong.” Alador looked over at Henrick though his head was still in his hands.

  Henrick just smirked in response. “What do you want to do today?” he asked, “We could play a game of stones or just talk.”

  “No, I really need to learn one thing before you go. There’s a kind of magic we haven’t talked about yet, and I think that I might have encountered it. This person doesn’t really like me, and I’d like to know how to counter it.” Alador sat back up, having come to the realization that he was going to help Sordith. “I think this man can change someone’s will.”

  Henrick looked at him for a long moment. “Someone in the guard uses such magic?” he asked, his tone soft and deadly.

  “Not exactly.” Alador didn’t want to tell his father of his plans in case he was aware of this slavery. Besides, if his father was away, he could deny any responsibility or involvement should Alador and Sordith fail.

  “Alador, such magic is forbidden even by the Lerdenians. Taking the will of another uses dark magic that even the dragons frown upon.” Henrick sat his pipe down in a bowl and looked at his son. “If what you say is true, I need to know who.”

  “Wait, what? My magic can kill. A death mage’s magic is designed to kill. How is this considered dark magic when magic actually used for killing isn’t? That doesn’t make sense.” Alador did not understand this at all.

  “A man who carries a sword is not necessarily a killer. It is the heart of the man that determines his nature, not the weapon he carries. A sword cannot kill unless it is drawn and used. A man with a deadly poison has but one intent, and that is to kill. So it is with magic; it is the heart of the mage that determines his nature, not his gifts of sphere. This Jon you’ve spoken of could kill quite easily, but does he?” Henrick dropped into that tone of teaching he used on their half-days. He rose from his chair to stare into the fire.

  “No, not that I am aware of. I’ve never seen him hurt anyone around him, though I’m quite aware that he’s capable of doing so.” Alador watched his father, trying to wrap his head around this new information. He’d always heard whispers of dark magic, but to him…if you could kill with magic, wasn’t it all dark?

  “Like an assassin who has figured out how to harness nature to create a deadly poison, some mages figure out ways to twist their gifts with only one purpose: to harm or enslave another. To take the will of a person away is to take away their ability to defend themselves, and that is against the laws of nature,” Henrick answered, running a finger along the marble mantle.

  Alador considered this very carefully. “So magic that steals the will of another is in the class of dark magic. What else falls into this category?” He was weighing his father’s words very carefully.

  “Blood-based magic is one. While a mage cannot absorb the powers of another mage as they can a dragon, they can use that fresh blood for a short time to enhance or bring about a deadly spell. Mages using blood are put down the moment they are discovered.” Henrick’s tone had hardened as he spoke of this.

  “Anything else I should be on the watch for that falls into this category of forbidden magic?” Alador eyed his father intently. Henrick obviously had some experience with confronting such a mage; his tense posture made that clear enough.

  “Any spell that can twist the heart of a man against his own nature, Alador. I have heard of dark spells that could make a man take his own life. I have heard of dark, hidden spells that, in the right situation, will set off a series of spells and create a killer out of a simple servant. You have avoided my first question long enough. Who is using such spells?” Henrick turned to look at Alador with an intensity that made Alador lean back in his chair.

  “I don’t know yet. I’d hate to accuse a mage without proof…it’s just a rumor,” Alador murmured. “But if it turns out not to be, I will come to you immediately. Until then, how can I defend myself against such a spell?”

  “One’s will to do the opposite of what the mage wishes will work if the desire is strong enough. In addition, if you know such a spell is coming, a simple mage shield will work. The problem is few know that such a spell is coming. It’s often put into a simple item that draws the focus of the victim, something harmless or beautiful.” Henrick looked totally disgusted. “I expect you to come to me if such a mage exists; I will drag the carcass before the high council itself.”

  “What if it’s someone connected to Luthian?” Alador asked softly. “What if he’s involved?”

  Henrick paused at that question. “Than the matter is not so simple. I would have to be sure my evidence was absolute, or remove the mage in question and attempt to leave no trace. But Luthian would not cross this line,” Henrick stated, but he hesitated just enough to show his doubt.

  “Well, let’s hope this rumor is wrong. I still need to know more of this dark magic and how to defend against them,” Alador reminded softly. He still had no doubt that if the mage Sordith spoke of could use such spells, then his uncle knew about it.

  “Then let us retire to my casting room.” Henrick turned and headed for the door. Like Luthian, he’d had a room built specifically to protect the rest of the house from whatever happened inside; if a spell misfired, the room would contain it. That was where they usually worked on Alador’s spells, as he had a tendency to pull from more than he intended.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon in practice, Henrick throwing up different variations of spells and forcing Alador to defend against them. He used spells that might resemble the ones they’d spoken about, not an exact representation, but close enough that Alador got the basic idea. By dinner, they were both exhausted and ravenous; between the two of them, they ate a whole roast, a bowl of mashed tubers, some sort of salad of vegetables and warm dressing, and an entire pie.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alador spent the next two days practicing the different deflections his father had taught him. He had learned that, as with a sword, sometimes the easiest defense was not to meet the spell head on, but to let it slide around him. It took less power and less time to create a wedge that let a spell envelope around him, but not touch him.

  Keelee was unusually attentive over the last two days. Not that she wasn’t attentive to his every need and seemed to know how to predict it, but this was different. Alador decided to confront her with it the morning of his next half-day to Luthian’s. He dressed in the clothes she’d laid out and as she gathered up yesterday’s and headed out to wash them, Alador gently reached for Keelee’s arm before she could leave, ensuring his grip was firm.

  “We need to talk.” Alador’s voice was kind and his grip, though firm, was also gentle. “Set those down for a moment. You can go while I am on duty.” He had guard post this morning and was excused from his classes.

  “Oh, if you wish,” Keelee murmured. She set the clothes down and moved her body close to him, her palms immediately trailing up Alador’s thighs. “You should have thought of that before you dressed,” she murmured against his neck.

  Alador sighed and moved her back away from him. “I mean actually have a conversation, Keelee.” He turned and led her to sit on the bed, pressing her gently down and then sat down beside her. “You’ve been…Different the last few days. What’s wrong?”

  Keelee fell silent. The wringing of her hands in her lap made it clear that, as Alador had suspected, something was amiss. She didn’t respond, her hair creating a curtain of black, silken strands around her bowed head. Her body was tense beside him.

  Alador reached in past that curtain to tip her chin up to look at him, and frowned when he saw tears in Keelee’s eyes. “Talk to me. You may be my assigned body servant, but I thought we were friends. You need to talk to me.”

  “You would not understand,” she whispered
.

  “I have had to deal with some pretty strange things in the last four months. I think you can trust me to at least be open-minded,” he offered. His thumb gently caressed her bottom lip. She was so beautiful and, in so many ways, seemed so fragile to him. She was a stark contrast to Mesiande.

  “I sometimes dream things, things that come true,” she murmured slowly, raising her eyes to him. There was real fear in them and a tear slid down her cheek. “I dreamed that because of me, something horrible is going to happen to you.” She whispered choking back a sob.

  Alador tucked her raven hair behind her ear. “I’d be the last one to judge someone because of their dreams. Do they always come true?” His tone was gentle and he wiped away a lone tear.

  Keelee slowly shook her head. “I can change them sometimes,” she admitted. “But they usually come true.” Her eyes were so full of tears, he wondered how they didn’t spill over.

  Alador gently tried to reassure her. “Well then, we’re forewarned and we’ll be careful. Do you know what it is that you do that causes this horrible thing to happen, or what this horrible thing is?” He reached over and pulled her against him to reassure and comfort her, kissing the top of her head gently and running his hand up and down her back.

  “No, I only know because of me you will be horribly hurt,” she whispers. “I do not want to cause you pain, Alador. This is the happiest I have been since I came to an age where my father’s tier was no longer my home.”

  “About that. I would have thought your father could choose to have you live on his tier. Doesn’t he want you to?” Alador frowned wondering how anyone could send Keelee away.

  She was quiet for a moment and turned her face into his shirt. Her soft words were barely audible. “He does. Very much so. But to be honest, it was safer for me to work in the High Minister’s house than to remain on the second tier. Not everyone seeking a mate does so kindly, and I did not wish to put my father’s business in harm’s way. I have found no one I would want to set up a home with,” Keelee admitted. She gave a soft sigh. “Well, maybe Flame. I do rather like him.” She smiled with those words, twisting her hair between her fingers absently.