To Be Victorious: The Maestro Chronicles Book 6

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To Be Victorious: The Maestro Chronicles Book 6 Page 19

by John Buttrick


  “Now that everyone who is supposed to come with us is here, we can get started,” Sherree said, and then swung up on Misty in a manner befitting a lady.

  Daniel sprang forward, vaulting into the saddle, and Sprinter took off like an arrow shot out of a tight-stringed bow. For some reason, no one was caught by surprise, although Carlos muttered something about, “Youthful exuberance,” not that Daniel cared.

  I love this! The thought from Sprinter came with a picture of the stallion eating a sugar cube.

  Daniel concentrated more fully and soon he was experiencing and sharing the joy of galloping by the flowerbeds, fruit trees, leaping over a green berry-filled hedge and out the gates where a pair of Benhannon Guardsmen kept vigil. The other horses were not far behind. After a hundred lengths more, he slowed to a trot, Sherree brought Misty to his side, and the rest formed up behind him and her as they drew near Lanta. He lessened his concentration on the stallion, no longer one with the horse, and headed straight for Lake Benhannon, the name given to the body of water by Silvia. It was an imperfect oval half a span wide, east to west, three quarters of a span north to south, and fed by a fresh water spring deep beneath its surface.

  As they approached the serene body of water he could see Mallards with glossy green heads and mergansers with their slim bodies and reddish bills. The lake was filled with fish, turtles, and assorted bugs, all busy engaging in the cycle of life. He was glad the town on the south side of the lake, directly opposite of his approach, did not disturb the natural balance, although he did notice a large structure with a broad deck that ran near to the edge of the pristine water. That was new.

  “The big three-storied building is the Lightning Bolt. D and D erected it five days ago,” Jared helpfully supplied; no doubt after seeing where Daniel was staring.

  A slight mental prodding started Sprinter to the right and the rest followed as they circled around to the town. A few members of the Benhannon Guard were assigned to patrol Lanta in the event of an attack, but most of the guards currently in the town would be off duty, and yet many of them were out in the flagstone streets, as were more than a thousand men and women who apparently were eager to see Sherree, perhaps not only her. Stone houses with A-frame rooftops still far outnumbered the various shops and booths, but it was clear the business community was growing. Every structure was made of stone raised and seamlessly formed by Accomplisheds from the Department of Design and Development. The first building in sight, when entering from the east, proved the growth had reached a certain point.

  “Jared, you did not mention the Bank of Ducanton has opened an office here,” Daniel said as the crowds called out his name. He waved his hand at them in response.

  “I wanted the financial establishment to be a surprise. Once we get the road from here to the capitol paved, Lanta will become an economic center,” the Account Keeper replied.

  Daniel chose not to bring up the fact that all the prosperity could come crashing down if the war became much messier, and he expected the fighting ahead to become messier. “You have done well,” he said, and then made eye contact with Sherree.

  She nodded and began addressing the crowd, she was so much better at making speeches, and all he had to do was nod in the right places. His eyes scanned the crowd of men, women, and children. Surprisingly few of them were wearing buckskins. Most of the clothing was made of wool, cotton, linen, and even silk. They were all dressed well.

  He noticed the broad porch of the Lightning Bolt had plenty of hitch space for horses to be tied and saw a stable on down to the right of it. Beyond his physical senses, the spell Find All revealed to him everything within a seven span spherical radius, including the estate, the creatures in the lake, the fresh water spring fed by an underground river, creatures in the forest, and every Aakacarn and non-Aakacarn in the area. The humans around him whose life-force energies had color were Sherree, Simon, and Wilma, all Aakacarns. The rest were clear and yet one of those stood out as being slightly more vibrant than the others. His spell Hidden Shield, kept him or anyone from sensing the underground facility, only what was on the surface of the Benhannon Estate could be detected. The Symphonic reflected back to him what was around the hidden space, dirt, rock, and the underground river.

  Daniel allowed his gaze to sweep in the direction of the unusually energetic person. On the porch of the barber shop to his left was a young man shining the boots of a gentleman wearing a brown suit, likely the banker. The older man was staring at Sherree and occasionally would give Daniel a glance. Her voice was being spell-amplified so no one in the town would have trouble hearing the speech. The younger man doing the shining had to be the fellow Layla had been speaking of. If he were to stand up straight, Daniel estimated the boy would be a little less than five cubits in height, exactly as Devvon had described. Other than having a bit more energy than the average non-Aakacarn, and a willingness to stick to his task while everyone else had quit their work to stare at the Lord and Lady of the Land, Leon seemed to be a harmless fellow.

  On the porch of the saloon with the name, Thirst Quencher, on the sign in large letters above the door, was a man who caught Daniel’s attention, a man who looked like an older version of Ronn Benhannon, if Daniel’s father ever decided to grow a beard or hang around saloons with a tankard in his hand. When Sherree’s speech ended, Daniel dismounted and made his way over to the man. It took two tenths of a mark to get there with a whole lot of handshaking and well-wishing along the way. He greeted each person, learned their names, and memorized their faces; it was the neighborly thing to do. A Lord of the Land should know the people who lived in his jurisdiction.

  He stepped up onto the porch. “Uncle Arry, welcome to Lanta. You are about the last person I expected to see. How are you doing?”

  Arry’s brown eyes were bloodshot, but steady as they locked onto Daniel. “Nephew, I came because those blasted invisible vibrations are ruinin my life. Why, I can hardly get a decent sleep goin before them blighted waves wakes me again. I suppose my brother told you I don’t much like being among flatlanders,” he was an equal opportunity dis-liker, most folks would consider him to be downright unsociable, and Daniel knew they would be correct. “I reckon the best way to stop all of the blighted nonsense is to join you and your Ma and Pa in the fight.” He certainly seemed to be riled up.

  “Are you requesting to join the Benhannon Guard?” Sherree asked. She must have walked up at the last little bit of conversation.

  “Well, I am already a Benhannon, young missy, so yes, I reckon myself would fit in right nicely, if my Nephew here is of a mind to oblige me.”

  It was probably the first time Sherree had ever been addressed as, “Young missy,” going by the incredulous look on her face, and Daniel decided to speak up before she settled on a response. “Uncle Arry, this is Sherree Jenna-Benhannon, my wife, and Lady of the Land.”

  Arry eyed her, took a swig from his tankard, wiped his mouth on his buckskin coat, and then presented her a gape-toothed smile. “That’s a mighty fine title you have there, Niece,” he said and eyed her quite thoroughly. “Nephew, you picked a prime filly.”

  “Oh, Daniel has stallions and fillies aplenty, but his lady-wife is not one of them. I image she could sling anyone who annoys her right over that tree, and might even let him fall on a cushion of air if she got to feeling charitable before he landed,” the voice of Simon entered the conversation. He swung out of the saddle, walked up onto the porch, and was still pointing at a tall pine on the far side of town.

  David eyed the longbow strapped to Uncle Arry’s back and the knife sheathed at his hip. “Ducaunan mountaineers are reputed to be masters of the bow and knife, and after spending time with your nephew, I believe it, but speaking so freshly to an Aakacarn is a good way to see how tough you really are.”

  Arry took another swig and then chuckled. “I called her Niece, didn’t I? That means she’s family and family don’t need to talk fancy to family.”

  It had been years since the l
ast time Daniel’s uncle had wandered out of the woods to visit him and his parents. Arry was cantankerous then and every other time he had come, all six of those occasions. Daniel was fifteen the last time and all of the visits were memorable. His uncle’s social skills had not improved with time and it was difficult to see where the man would fit in, yet in his own way Arry wanted to help.

  Silvia stepped onto the porch. “Chosen One, I see this man, dressed as he is, and standing at the bow-gun of a patrol-boat.”

  “That’s some mighty bright colors you are a-wearin, littler missy, and an interestin idea about me bowin to somthin on a boat,” Arry replied, even though she had not been talking to him, but since it was about him he no doubt felt obliged to respond. His brow had wrinkled at the notion of bowing and he evidently never heard of a gun.

  “Thank you for that insight,” Daniel told her quickly. She had frowned at being referred to as, “Littler missy,” and David seemed ready to draw one of his many hidden blades. Her vision, however, had helped Daniel make up his mind about what to do with Arry. “Uncle, my parents have a fast boat that can put a mighty hurting on the people responsible for disturbing your rest. My Chief Aid,” he said while pointing to Simon. “Can get you to where they live faster than a frog can snap up a bug.”

  Sherree was even smiling by the time Daniel finished speaking, and more importantly so was Arry. “Nephew, that sounds like a right good idea. I don’t see how this scrawny feller you pointed at can get me anywhere so quick, but I am willin if you are of a mind to send me,” Uncle replied. “Nice meetin ya,” he said to Sherree and even lifted the straw hat from his head in a show of respect to her.

  “You are an interesting man, Uncle, and it has been good to meet another one of my in-laws,” it was about as close to friendly as she could make the response without lying.

  Simon did not so much as bat an eye at being referred to as, “scrawny,” which meant Uncle Arry was in for a wild ride, seeing as the sandy-haired Accomplished often let his actions speak louder than his words. Had he been a feline, his bite would be considered far worse than his roar.

  Daniel smiled. “Uncle Arry, I am definitely of a mind to send you to my father,” he said, more than happy to grant the request.

  Somehow he did not think his parents were going to thank him.

  “Sir Daniel,” Jared caught his attention. “This is as good a place as any for the people of Lanta to come and shake your hand.”

  Daniel glanced behind at the double doors of the saloon where a portly man wearing a white apron stood gaping at him. “We might as well start with him, but make sure the boot-shiner has a place in the line.”

  He wished he could say the shaking of hands was simply his way of being neighborly, but honestly, it was the best way to be able to identify and track each individual through the spell Find All. Too bad the Symphonic was unable to sense that cursed invisibility spell Tarin Conn had composed.

  In one of the many compartments in Daniel’s mind, Running with the Wolves was playing, giving him the senses of a wolf. People seemed to be screaming their names and the smells on the breeze were too pungent and plentiful for him to figure out if someone in the crowd was there but invisible. Still, he did what he could to lessen the danger as the harmonics from spells being cast from multiple places around the continent continued to wash over him and everyone else in the world.

  Chapter Eight: Chores, Chores, and more Chores

  After several marks spent meeting the residents of Lanta, half a mark sparring with Captain Bower and Lyle Van Kestral, Daniel cast a spell to clean himself and his clothing. His temporary opponents were still wiping their faces with towels and probably glad he did not have time for another match, neither of them were masters of the blade, but they were both good enough to give him a decent workout, which he appreciated. He drank from his golden canteen while watching the activity around him.

  The Training-room was located three levels below the guard-house and a few hundred guardsmen were making use of the facility, sparring, running, climbing, engaging in weapons training, and drills. Guardsman Kirwan Senetovo, a Ducaunan in his mid-twenties, took the lathe swords the three of them had been using and sheathed them in a long rack at the wall to the right.

  Years of physical training had given Lyal the body of an athlete, and the restoration from Condemnation had improved upon his physique, and yet did nothing to enhance his plain face or pointed nose. Had he been wearing buckskins and born the son of a farmer rather than one of the most powerful lords in Taracopa, few people would look twice at him, yet if they actually met him, his sense of duty would likely win them over immediately, and earn their respect. Then again, the blue uniform with the silver striping identifying him as one of the Chosen’s Sentinels would garner respect even if he walked through a crowd without saying a word.

  “I am to be skipper of the Rover. Sir Daniel, I am truly thankful to be given command of a Wager-class patrol-boat,” Lyle gave the information as if it was actually news to Daniel, who had been fully briefed by Chas Herling and Starling Cove base Commander Cyrus Burrows, a Two-bolt Accomplished of the Defense Department.

  “I was sure neither Chas nor Cyrus would let a person with your talents slip their notice,” Daniel replied. “You were raised to be a leader. The patrol-boat is a potent weapon, particularly in the hands of the right person, and placing you in command of one seems like a good idea to me. Congratulations on the promotion.”

  Lyle had been conveyed to the Benhannon Estate with the crew of Manta Two, who had finished examining the improvements made to Manta One, and no doubt eager to have the modifications made to their own ray. Daniel figured they came to the estate with the intention of hounding Franklin until he agreed to convey with them to Starling Cove right after the meeting.

  “I assure you, Sir Daniel, the Rover will do its part in bringing down the Serpent Guild and its allies,” Lyle replied with the same fervor he displayed months ago when insisting he wanted to be a Sentinel.

  “I deposited your uncle at the bungalow,” Simon announced while entering the training-room and drawing attention away from the eager skipper.

  “You took your time in doing it,” Daniel replied.

  “Yes, we took the scenic route,” Simon admitted, “Although, he did not seem to enjoy seeing so many flatlanders.”

  Daniel shook his head. “There is no scenic route, there is nothing but blackness when conveying in the space between here and there, and certainly no people, flatlander or otherwise.”

  Simon grinned. “There are plenty of people in Zoltair, Bon, Coldrone, Jeter, and Ducanton, the places we conveyed to before ending up at the naval facility.”

  “I knew you would make him pay for calling you scrawny,” Daniel replied.

  “Yep,” Simon said without a trace of regret in his voice or demeanor. “The First Lady asked me to tell you the Conductors are arriving and the meeting should be starting shortly.”

  Daniel shifted his gaze to the Captain of the Benhannon Guard, who had stripped to his undershirt for the purpose of sparring, and was setting aside his towel. “Marcus, whenever you are ready, we can head up to the conference-room.”

  The big man was reaching for his outer shirt and did not stop, but spoke while slipping his arms into the sleeves. “Not all of us can become immaculate as quick as a thought, some of us actually have to take the time to cleanup, but I will be back in uniform quick enough.” He smiled. “This is something you know full well, funnyman, judging by the timing of your comment.”

  It was good to know Marcus could recognize when Daniel was attempting to be humorous. “Yep,” Daniel admitted in the same tone Simon had used.

  “I’m going to find Accomplished Glader,” Lyle announced, apparently feeing the need to explain why he was walking away.

  Daniel nodded acknowledgment and when Marcus was in full uniform, Simon accompanied them up to the conference-room.

  When he entered, his eyes swept over the entire room. A large
obsidian table, rounded at the edges, with twenty-two chairs, ten at the sides and one on each end, all made of the same substance contoured for comfort, was nearly identical to the conference room at the Northland Holding. The flickering light was provided by red-orange flames in ten lamps on golden stands evenly placed from corner to corner.

  The chair at the head of the table was empty and so was the one to the left of it. Leah had not yet arrived, but Sherree was in the chair to the right of his. Standing behind her was Wilma Ryner, whose right eyebrow arched up for a moment when Simon took a seat at the opposite end of the table, facing his Maestro. She could sit in one of the empty chairs at the other end of the table, but likely wanted to be near Sherree, and perhaps expected Simon to do something similar. Daniel took his place at the head. On the First Lady’s side of the table sat Jennel Obenport, a three-bolt Accomplished and Conductor of the Health Department. Jennel’s hood was back, revealing a braid twisted from her long saffron-colored hair and a fair Lobenian complexion. Her hazel eyes were fixed on Daniel.

  Beside her sat Bernard Kleopis, Conductor of the Department of Emissaries. The Two-bolt Accomplished, a clean-shaven man of medium build and height, was half a century old and appeared to be no older than his mid-twenties. His dark eyes were also fixed on his Maestro, Daniel was getting used to having people stare at him.

  Martin Varroon, Conductor of the Department of Education and Research, came next. His hair and beard were thick and dark along with his skin. The tall man, born in the northern kingdom of Ecoppia, reminded Daniel of Terroll Barnes. He was also the oldest member of the guild, one hundred fifty-five years of age, yet he appeared to be in his early forties. Daniel noted a fourth bolt on the blue hooded-cloak. “Martin, congratulations on gaining another bolt,” he said along with a nod of respect.

 

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