“I left as soon as I got your message this morning.” Dorian was the most reliable of friends, the sort of man who would walk through fire if he thought it would help someone. He had already saved my life at least once before. “The description in your letter was a bit vague, but I got the impression you’re dealing with some sort of monster?”
I hadn’t known what to write so I hadn’t been very specific, “Yeah, let’s not talk about it out here. I haven’t figured out what to tell the people yet and I don’t want to start a panic.”
He blinked at me, “Seriously, a monster?” I could see the gears in his head turning, conjuring up creatures from childhood fairy tales. I also noted that he had come geared for war. He wore chainmail, not just the hauberk… but the leggings as well, complete with a steel cap and aventail. He had also brought both his sword and a long spear.
“I see you took me at my word. Did you really need the barding though? That must be a real pain for your horse.” Barding was the term for the armor that partially covered his steed, a great black destrier.
“How should I know? I’d rather come to the party overdressed than arrive and find out later that I should have worn my chainmail knickers!” he answered. As usual his joke wasn’t that funny, but I felt a bit less burdened seeing him in full armor. Dorian was the deadliest man I had ever known, and I was glad he was my friend.
Since his horse was tired (wouldn’t you be after carrying all that?), we walked him over to the makeshift stables and I helped him clean and groom the massive beast. It wasn’t a chore for me as I loved horses almost as much as people. While we combed him down I had a thought, “Take your armor off too, if you’re going to help there are some things I can do to improve your chances.”
“I’m afraid to ask,” he replied, but he started shucking the armor. Once it was off he handed me a very heavy pile of mail. Luckily I was still in good shape from helping Dad now and then at the smithy. As big a man as Dorian Thornbear was the armor probably weighed around eighty pounds or more.
“Bring your sword and spear too,” I added.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving them behind.” He gave me a look that indicated I was crazy to think he would walk about unarmed. “What are you planning to do to my armor? It’s very expensive you know.” He eyed me suspiciously. I never understood why he didn’t trust me.
“I won’t hurt your precious mail, never fear. I’m just going to improve it.” I tried to give him my best ‘wise and mysterious wizard’ look, but he merely shook his head.
We had reached my house at this point, although according to Penny it barely deserves the name. I took him around to the back where a small shed served as my workshop. It didn’t have all the neat toys Dad kept around his smithy, but I didn’t need most of them for my work. My skill with magic allowed me to do a lot of things without recourse to tools. I stretched his hauberk out flat on the table.
“Just be careful, Dad gave me that,” Dorian said. His father had died the year before, a fact neither of us liked to remember. I had loved Gram Thornbear too.
“When I’m done I doubt you’ll ever have to worry about anyone damaging it again,” I assured him. “Would you mind fetching some water? This will take a while and I’m thirsty already.” He set off to find a pitcher and I got to work. My request was half to get him out of the way so I could get started. I wasn’t sure how he would react.
I took down the papers I had my notes written on, though I had done a lot of enchanting lately the designs were complicated and I didn’t want to make a mistake. This one I had tested once before so I was fairly confident that it would perform as intended. Leaning over the mail I extended a finger and began tracing it along the metal rings; as it went the metal changed color, from dull grey to gold.
Dorian returned with the water, but he didn’t interrupt me since he knew I was concentrating. A long while later I looked up from my work, “Still got that water?”
“Sure. For a thirsty man you took long enough to stop for a drink,” he handed me a cup.
“How long has it been?” I asked.
“You’ve been talking to yourself and stroking my armor for about three hours now. It’ll be getting dark soon,” he replied.
“Damn! I didn’t even realize. I’m sorry Dorian I’ve been poor company.”
“Don’t worry about it, whatever you’re doing must be important. I just hope my mail still works properly.” He was looking at it over my shoulder.
“Well I’m done with the hauberk now, take a look,” I gestured to the table. The mail coat was gleaming. I had removed the gold coloring, which had been a temporary measure to keep from losing track of where I was in the process. The entire coat glimmered now, as though each ring had just been polished while to my eyes patterns of symbols and words still covered it. Dorian wouldn’t be able to see those.
“Well it’s really pretty, but battle isn’t about beauty. Will it still stop a sword?”
“My friend, it will stop everything short of a ballista. It won’t rust and you’ll never need to oil it again,” mentally I hoped that it would improve the smell as well. If you’ve ever been around men wearing chain armor you know what I mean, rust and sweat are not a good combination. “More importantly, it should also prevent the thing I ran into last night from sucking the life out of you.”
A voice came from the doorway, “Aren’t you boys getting hungry?” Penny had returned and she carried a basket. I was pretty sure it held food of some sort.
“In a little while, I still have to finish here.” I motioned toward Dorian’s weapons, his steel cap, and the chain leggings.
“I’m certainly hungry… I haven’t eaten since lunch,” Dorian answered. It was rare for him to miss a meal.
“At least one of you has some sense then. How much longer are you going to be Mort?” She looked at me questioningly. Lately she had been a bit overbearing when it came to making sure I took breaks and ate food.
“Not long, an hour or two.”
“Alright… Dorian if you would be so kind?” She held her arm out and he took it, escorting her into the house like some noble lady. I supposed she soon would be.
I went back to work, starting on the steel cap first. I didn’t think it would take too long and soon I was wrapped up in my task as I lost track of time. I finished the cap and leggings and began working on the sword before Penny returned.
“Mort?”
“Huh?” I looked up; Penny was a bit fuzzy around the edges.
“You need to eat, you can finish this later,” she said this gently but I had a hunch she was just warming up.
“I can’t stop in the middle or I’ll have to start all over. Actually while I’m at it go get your chain shirt. I can do it next.” I had already returned to my work on the sword. She didn’t answer and by the time I looked again she was gone.
A while later I had finished. It was fully dark now but that hadn’t been a problem, I had put several globes of magical light around the shop. I wanted to start on Penny’s chain shirt but she hadn’t brought it back so I went looking for her.
I found her in the house, sitting by the fire. “Where’s your chain shirt?” I asked with a fuzzy expression. You would think I’d have more sense, but I’ve been practicing my stupid.
“Do you know what time it is?” she asked.
What a silly question, I thought, any fool can see that it’s dark. “It’s nighttime,” I replied.
“Mort it’s almost midnight, and you still haven’t eaten. Did you even eat lunch?” She was giving me her best worried expression, but I wasn’t fooled. That’s just how they get you to lower your guard. Then I remembered what I had planned to do.
“Oh! You’re right; I’ve got to get ready. Where’s Dorian? I’ll have to eat while we walk I guess.” My eyes were a bit bleary, probably from lack of food.
Penny got up and taking me by the hand she led me to the table, coaxing me into sitting down. “You’re not going anywhere tonight. You’re t
ired and hungry, and probably too dumb to do much good out there right now anyway.”
“No I’m…,” I started to reply but she shoved a roll into my open mouth. I might have complained but it was good so I started chewing without thinking. It was all downhill after that… the roll had a conversation with my stomach and the two of them convinced me that they needed a lot more company down there. I made short work of the cold cuts and the rest of the bread. After I had stuffed myself I felt drowsy.
“Thanks honey, I should listen to you more often.” Penny scowled at me. I had broken the first rule of women. Never compliment them when they’re worried or mad. I didn’t let her start on me though. “Where’s Dorian? He can go with me tonight and I’ll do the work on your chain shirt tomorrow.”
“I already told you, you’re not going out tonight. Dorian can stand guard,” she replied, hands on her hips.
I gave her a long look, “If something happens to someone tonight I’m responsible.”
“You’re already responsible for everyone. Things will happen no matter what you do, but going out there like this will only get you killed. Where will those people be then?” Her features softened as she spoke, “Come to bed, Dorian will watch tonight. He’s already patrolling anyway.”
I should have known… they had already conspired against me. “I won’t be able to sleep,” I said petulantly.
Penny leaned over and kissed me. Not one of the chaste kisses I had been getting recently either, these were the sort of kisses that made a fellow wake up and say ‘hello’… nor was I immune to her charms. “Come to bed now and I’ll make it worth your while,” she whispered softly in my ear.
I had no fight left in me so I surrendered and went to bed. I couldn’t figure out why she was no longer worried about waiting till the wedding, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Bad analogy, I wasn’t about to look a… wait never mind, that analogy would have been even more inappropriate. My head was reeling… and the bed seemed incredibly soft after my long day. I decided I really should listen to her more often.
“I’ll be right back, I need to put the food away,” she said, leaving the room. I closed my eyes to wait on her and when she returned a few minutes later I was snoring soundly. “Works every time,” Penny smiled and crawled in beside me. I never even realized I had been cheated till morning came.
Chapter 3
Marcus Lancaster stretched lazily, enjoying the touch of satin on his skin. He looked over at his companion, the Lady Eleanor Strickland. She was a lovely girl, with long blond tresses and golden eyes that nearly matched her hair. Talented as well, he thought quietly to himself.
The night before had been a blur of wine and dancing, which was a common occurrence in the capital of Lothion. Albamarl was a large city and many of the nobility kept residences there, to better keep up with the important social doings around the King’s court.
“Time to be off,” Marc said to himself, rising silently. Dawn was getting close and it wouldn’t do to be caught in the young lady’s bedroom by the morning servants. He quickly donned his clothes and gathered up his scattered belongings. Eleanor didn’t wake; she had had a long night.
A few minutes later he was walking down a narrow lane that ran between the houses in that part of the city. The street proper was on the other side of the houses, this way being used mainly for servants and deliveries. Marc knew his route well; he had already visited a number of noble houses over the past few months. Being the son of a duke had its advantages and he had enjoyed a large number of dalliances with the young ladies of Albamarl. Despite what Mordecai had once thought regarding Penny, Marcus never took advantage of maids or other female staff, he restricted himself to women of noble birth.
It wasn’t that he looked down on the lower class, but he felt intuitively that it was wrong. A woman of low birth could hardly say no to a duke’s son. Such a thing would be an abuse, even if the lasses were willing, and he had no problem finding plenty of prey among girls of his own class anyway.
He started whistling to himself as he walked. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon and it looked to be another beautiful day. I wonder how much longer I should stay in Albamarl? he thought to himself. After the events last year he had taken a new interest in the future. Lord Thornbear’s death had made him painfully aware that his own father would not live forever. Someday he would have to take on the mantle of Duke of Lancaster.
Marc originally came to Albamarl to court and woo, being the heir apparent meant he had a duty to find a wife before he got too old. Although his original intention had been pure, he soon found that none of the noblewomen he met could keep his attention, well not for much longer than a week or two. As a dutiful son he kept searching, and before long he realized that he enjoyed the chase more than the conclusion. Life is hard sometimes.
He was walking along, already wondering where he would find his next conquest, when he heard the sounds of a scuffle. The first noises were harsh thumps, the sound of someone taking a beating, but they were followed by a sickening wet sound. Rushing around the corner he saw three men in a dark alley.
One was standing, looking around anxiously, while the second rifled through the pockets of a young man. The fellow on the ground was leaking blood at an alarming rate. “Cease and desist! I’ll have the watch here in a moment!” Marc shouted, reaching for his sword.
It wasn’t there; he had left it in the cloak room at the party the night before. Shit! he thought. The man standing lookout charged him, a heavy truncheon in his hand. That’s probably what produced the thumping noises, he observed. He found himself leaping backward to avoid the other man’s clumsy swings. Timing them he waited till his foe over extended himself, and then he stepped in and delivered a heavy left hook to the thug’s temple. The man stumbled, his legs having turned to jelly, and fell. Marc kicked him solidly in the head as he tried to rise.
Snatching up the truncheon he looked for the second assailant, but that one had apparently run when his friend went down. Their victim didn’t move. “Hey! Are you alright?” he asked, kneeling beside the fallen man. The fellow had been stabbed in the gut and blood was still pumping sluggishly from the wound. It didn’t look good.
“Someone help me! Get the watch, someone find a doctor!” A few curious folk had stuck their heads out when they had seen the fight was over. Marc called to them for help, but he knew it was useless, the man on the ground had little time left. It was doubtful even a doctor could save him at this point. As he looked down at him the fellow opened his eyes and groaned.
“It hurts…” The injured man’s eyes were wide with pain, yet he obviously couldn’t see clearly. Pain and loss of blood seemed to have robbed him of his senses. “Momma, I couldn’t find the fish… I’m sorry.” Finally Marc noticed the scattered food on the ground. Apparently the victim had been returning from the market.
Something about the pure ordinariness of it struck a chord within Marc. Groceries seemed like a silly thing to die for, yet this man had been stabbed for nothing more than that and whatever change had been in his pocket. He had probably been an honest man; he wore the silver star of Millicenth, the goddess of the Evening Star. Without thinking Marc reached out to touch the star, “Please Goddess… if there is a way to save this poor man, show me.”
Marc had never been one to pray before, outside of weekly services. He knew little of the proper ways to beseech his goddess, but he knew nothing else to do. His emotions built and he felt hot tears forming in his eyes. Still he clutched the silver star, “Please Lady, if this man meant anything… help him. I know I’m not worthy, but this man needs you.” It might have been his imagination but he felt a warm glow form around him, and then he saw her.
She was wrapped in a luminescent dress, like starlight made into cloth. Silver hair and bright eyes accented a face so beautiful that he felt like crying at the sight of her. “Long have I waited for this day, Marcus Lancaster. We have much to do,” she said with a voice that re
minded him of music.
“I don’t know what you mean Lady; I just need to save this man. He has wronged no one and does not deserve to die.” Despite the beauty of the goddess in front of him he could still feel the man’s life fading under his hand.
“If you would save him you must give over your worldly life. Devote yourself to me. I will show you the path of the righteous and through you I will shine my light into the empty hearts of men.” She drew closer as she said this, till it seemed her face was mere inches from his own.
Marc could feel her beauty like a physical thing and was filled with a sense of the divine, a holy radiance such as he had never known. It flowed into the cracks in his heart, the empty places. The eternal solitude that every human knows from birth… was gone. For the first time in his life he felt complete in her presence. “I will my Lady,” he answered, “If you will let me I will serve you all the days of my life, forsaking all else.”
“Open your heart to me child,” she said, but he had already done so and he felt her pouring into him, like liquid light into a dark vessel. The world vanished into a sensation of such joy and power that he was overwhelmed. Opening his eyes again he became aware of the world in a new way. Light filled everything, and below him he could see the light fading from the man on the ground.
Marc opened his hand and placed it over the wound. He could feel her power flowing through him and as he watched the blood stopped and the flesh closed up again without even a scar left behind. The man on the ground was watching him now, eyes wide, as though he were staring at an angel. “You healed me,” he said simply, touching his unblemished stomach.
Marc spoke, “You were healed by the grace of the Evening Star. Her mercy saved your life. Remember that and live with her in your thoughts and actions.” Then he stood up and looked around, a crowd had gathered. People were murmuring in amazement. “The Goddess has blessed this man, and she will bless us all, if we but let her,” he said. Unable to bear their continued stares he worked his way through the crowd and headed for his father’s city home.
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