Maryanne’s glare tightened on Sarine. “Well, it was a little uncomfortable at first, but-.”
“You know that’s not what I mean, dear!” Sarine said. “It’s just, an ogre and a gnome being able to produce offspring is surprising.”
“Well, I don’t imagine the situation comes up very often,” Kyrkon observed.
“Also, Matthew made it so that the blood magic races are really fertile right now,” Fist said in an attempt to be helpful. Sarine turned her scowl on him.
Justan, sensing Fist’s anxiety over the escalating situation, stepped forward. “Great grandmother! It is so good to meet you.”
He didn’t quite get the reaction he was hoping for. Everyone’s eyes fell on him. A couple jaws dropped. At least Sarine’s panicked scowl melted.
“I don’t usually dress like this,” Justan promised them.
“The flamboyant costume is a Roo-Tan wedding custom apparently,” Darlan explained.
Just then some Roo-Tan guards passed and Qurl was with them. He raised his hands to his mouth and yelled, “What happened, Sir Edge? Jhonate let you dress yourself again?” The guards with him laughed and Justan’s cheeks reddened.
Thanks, Justan! said Fist gratefully.
“Well,” said Sarine, smiling warmly at him. “It is a pleasure to meet you after all this time, dear!”
He embraced her. “To be honest, with as much as Fist and Artemus have shown me about you I feel like I have known you for a long time.”
Ah, but doesn’t she look fine! said Artemus. Give her Whisper!
Justan cleared his throat and stepped back. “Uh, Artemus would like for me to tell you that you look lovely and . . .” he pulled the wizard’s rune dagger and sheath and held them out to her. “He would like to try and speak to you through Whisper, if you don’t mind holding her.”
Sarine blinked and put a hand on her chest. “He has re-established contact with her?”
Justan nodded and she took the dagger from him. Immediately, she smiled and Justan knew that Artemus was giving her all the compliments he had been practicing.
Justan headed over to speak with his father and the rest of the Academy Council. They too gave him a hard time about his choice of clothing and pretended that they didn’t believe him when he said it was picked out for him. He was just turning away from that embarrassment, when Lenny called out.
“Dag-gum, son! Yer liable to turn a dwarf’s eyeballs inside-out!” The dwarf had returned home a couple days after returning from Djeri’s rescue and had just arrived back in Roo-Tan’lan through the mirror today.
“Hey, I like it! Makes the day memorable,” Bettie said. In her arms she was holding their baby. “C’mere, Edge. You ain’t met Jack yet.”
Smiling, Justan approached them. Jack was a big baby. At nine months he already had a full set of teeth and a head of bright red hair that really stood out against his slightly green skin. Justan held out his hand. “Hello, Jack!”
His mouth hanging open, Jack just pointed at Justan’s shirt. He hiccupped and white throw-up poured from his lips. Justan had to jump back to avoid being spattered.
Lenny laughed. “That’s right! A Firegobbler knows what doesn’t look good.”
Cursing, Betty grabbed a towel out from inside her dress and cleaned up the baby’s mouth. She was also about to bend over to clean it up off of the ground but was beaten to the spot by a gray-scaled part-kobald.
Justan grimaced as Gray licked up the mess.
“The hell is that?” Bettie wondered. And though it was considered uncouth around here to point out the defects in a trollkin, Justan couldn’t blame her for her question. Gray looked like a kobald with a dog’s tail and a long tongue.
“Djeri’s dog, so shut yer yap about it,” Lenny said in a low voice. He raised his hand. “Nephew! C’mere and meet yer cousin!”
Djeri approached them with Tarah at his side. The trollkin was dressed fancy for the wedding. He usually wore his uncle’s breastplate but Tarah must have made him leave it at home for the wedding. “Sorry about Gray, Edge. We tried to leave him back home, but he just decided to follow.”
Djeri was one of the fortunate trollkin. When dressed in nice clothes he could have passed for a widely-built man. That was if you didn’t look too close at the claws on his fingers or stare at his teeth when he smiled.
“It’s times like this I wish I had bewitching magic,” said Tarah, shaking her head at the dog. “If only Beth hadn’t left before we did. She would’ve made him stay behind. Congratulations on your wedding day, Edge.”
“Thanks, Tarah,” Justan said. “You look beautiful today.”
It wasn’t often that he saw Tarah out of her armor but evidently it was getting a bit too tight around her belly. She was wearing an embroidered blouse with baggy trousers and her hair had been pulled back. She usually wore it hanging down obscuring her face. This was a nice look for her.
“I hear everybody looks good at a wedding,” she said embarrassedly, then deflected the discussion. “Except you. What made you think to wear that?”
Justan sighed. He left them to talk with Lenny and Bettie before he trotted up to find his place in the line. Roo-Tan warriors cat-called him all the way. He wondered why Xedrion would ever want to get married more than once when he saw a sight that stopped him in his tracks.
Jhonate was spectacular. The last time he had seen Jhonate in a dress was during the funeral at the Mage School after the war with Ewzad Vriil. She had been stunning then, but this dress put that old one to shame. It was white and flowing and cut in such a way that it accentuated her warrior’s physique. Her braids were done in a different fashion than usual, all of them pulled back except for the two at the sides of her face.
He walked towards her in a stupid daze. Who cared about the ugly shirt? The day was finally here.
One of the people she was talking to laughed and pointed at Justan and she turned his way. She laughed and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders.
“You look so ridiculous!” she said. “It is perfect! Mother outdid herself.”
“You look . . . Jhonate. I have no words for how beautiful you are. You’re always beautiful, but today, I . . .” He stopped, a lump rising in his throat. “Gorgeous.”
Jhonate reached up and touched his face, her eyes welling with tears. Then she said, “Do you know the real reason we make our grooms wear such horrible clothing on their wedding day?”
He shook his head.
“To make the new wife even more motivated to tear them off,” she said, then leaned in close to whisper a few other choice promises that made Justan’s mind go numb. “Later,” she promised, then hurried over to speak with Beth and her mother.
A few more mocking voices came from the Roo-Tan and this time Justan just raised his arms and took it with a smile.
You are enjoying being mocked now? asked Deathclaw.
Justan looked up to see the raptoid on the roof above. Standing next to him were Talon and Durza. Lately, the two raptoids had been spending so much time together that the gorc had been feeling left out. She had taken to following them and begging them to haul her up on the rooftops with them.
I am enjoying the day. The mockery is just part of it. It’s one of those strange ways we humans show love for each other, he explained.
I may never understand, Deathclaw said.
Justan cocked his head. Have you given any thought to Matthew’s offer?
The Stranger would be leaving with Aloysius to head back to Alberri in two days and he had offered to take Deathclaw back with him and let him join Talon in training with the gnome warriors. He had made a similar offer to Cletus, asking the gnome to come and teach, but Cletus had declined. He wanted to stay with Tarah and Djeri.
It was a good offer, Deathclaw said. Justan knew that the raptoid would have liked to spend more time with Talon. But I told him no. My place is with you. Despite what Squirrel says, he cannot be the Deathclaw of our pack.
; Justan smiled. I agree.
He turned and walked over to the head of the men’s side of the procession where Xedrion stood, talking with Xeldryn and Herlda and a handful of his trollkin guard.
After two months, tension between the two peoples was still very real. So many had died on both sides and that wasn’t something that people just got over. But the trollkin were gradually reclaiming their memories and their old families were more receptive to renewing their relationships than Justan had feared. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was possible.
Herlda was a good example of how it could work. She had taken a position as the KhanzaRoo representative in Roo-Tan’lan. While the trollkin would continue to live in and develop their city, she would help arrange for situations where trollkin could be reunited with their families as well as broker trade between the two peoples.
Xedrion was able to focus his current efforts into making those relations work now that he had the newly signed treaty with the Mer-Dan in hand. The last two months had been a constant series of intense negotiations and neither side had been completely happy with the end result, which was something Matthew said meant that the deal was a good one.
The Roo-Tan were now officially part of the Third Great Alberri Empire. Aloysius could return home triumphant and begin the work of putting his country together again. Justan could see the Gnome Warlord in his ceremonial armor standing off to the side talking with his stewards. He hoped that Aloysius would be able to change his ways. Matthew certainly seemed determined to make that happen.
Justan turned around. He didn’t see Matthew anywhere. He usually wasn’t far from Aloysius’ side.
“Hey, Sir Edge!” Justan turned to see Qenzic waving to him. The warrior was standing with the rest of the Dry-Foot Brigade. Willum was with them as well. “What possibly inspired you to wear that?”
“Marriage,” Justan said and they all laughed. “So are you all heading back to the Academy after this?”
The Academy rebuild was making remarkable progress. Some were saying that it would be completed by the next spring.
“Yeah,” said Qenzic and Justan noticed that he had his arm around Helmet Jan. Now that was a pairing he hadn’t expected. “There will be a new class of students sent over from the Mage School soon. They’re wanting my help in the swordsmanship guild.”
“What about you, Willum?” Justan said.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Theodore says I should travel around and see things. Tolivar thinks I should stick with the Academy for now, but Faldon brought me a letter from King Demetrius today. He really wants me to take on some house responsibilities. If he pushes it I might not get to stay at the Academy.”
“You know there is one way you could avoid all that,” Justan suggested. “You could do what Hilt did and go get yourself named.”
Jan laughed. “Yeah, Oddblade. Go find out what happens when you dip your imp in the bowl.”
Willum frowned. “Theodore doesn’t like that idea. He doesn’t want a naming rune on his axe.”
Justan felt he knew why. A naming weapon is bonded until death. If Willum was named using the axe and died, then the imp would likely die too. He glanced around. “Have you seen Vannya today?”
“She went back through the mirror,” Willum said with a shrug and from the glum look on his face, their parting hadn’t gone the way he had expected. “She wants to go back and assist Locksher at the Mage School.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Justan said, putting his hand on Willum’s shoulder. He knew how much Willum had liked her, but he had never really thought Vannya was serious about their relationship.
“There’s always Kathy the Plate,” Swen reminded Willum and the other Academy warriors continued to tease him relentlessly.
Justan went to stand next to Xedrion and Xeldryn in the procession line while he waited for it to start. He realized that he hadn’t seen Gwyrtha. Jhonate had made sure that there was a special spot in the procession for her.
He looked through the bond and discovered that she was quite a ways away. Just outside of Roo-Tan’lan in a wide open field she was preparing to face off against Charz and Rufus in a big brawl. Cletus was there with them. Charz had told him that he could judge the winner, but Gwyrtha was pretty sure he was going to join in the fight.
Justan frowned, upset at first that they were ditching the wedding for this. But then he noticed a fifth participant. A cat-like rogue horse with six legs and a scorpions tail. It was Steff. If she was there that could only mean one thing.
Justan stepped out of the line again, scanning the crowd frantically. Finally, he saw the Prophet standing alone on a canal bridge prepared to watch the procession from a distance. Justan told Xedrion he would be right back and made his way past the crowd, enduring more jeers with a wave and a smile until he got to the bridge.
“John!” he said, trotting up to the Prophet.
The Prophet smiled and reached out to embrace him warmly. “Sir Edge! I am so pleased to be able to be here to see you and Jhonate finally wed.”
“Thanks, is this all you’re here for?” Justan said, feeling honored.
John smiled. “You know how things sometimes work with me. I think I’m here for this, though. I’ve been watching the two of you from the beginning. Didn’t want to miss it. By the way I am very pleased with the way you handled Aloysius and the battle with Mellinda. I knew I could trust the fight to you.”
“With me?” Justan said.
John chuckled. “You are one of the many important people I entrusted this situation with, but yes, you in particular. Now go, this is your wedding day. I am the least crucial person for you to be with at this moment.”
Justan nodded. “Okay, but first there is something I need to give you.”
“Oh?” said John, his eyebrows raising.
Justan reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch. He handed it to the Prophet. “I have to take them everywhere I go. They’re too dangerous to leave out anywhere.”
John opened the pouch and looked inside. His pleasant expression faded slightly. “Oh. Those.”
“Can you destroy them?” Justan asked.
A weary look passed over his face. “Unfortunately, no.”
“But . . . isn’t destroying evil artifacts part of your responsibility?” Justan asked.
The Prophet pulled the drawstring shut. “This particular artifact has a mixed history. It is true, their creation came from a misguided desire and tragedy has often fallen in their wake. Evil men have used them to do evil things, but the rings themselves are not evil.”
“It’s a wild magic,” Justan said. “I only wore them for a very short time and I could feel them twisting me.”
“That is because you are not their intended owner,” John replied. He placed the pouch in his robes. “Thank you for retrieving them. I have a place where I can store them until needed.” He then waved his hands at Justan. “Now shoo. Go. Enjoy your wedding. You and Jhonate deserve a wonderful life together.”
Justan nodded again somewhat reluctantly. He didn’t like the thought that the rings would still be out there, possibly falling into the wrong hands in the future. But he had to trust the Prophet.
“Thank you,” Justan said. He turned and headed back to the procession, focusing his mind back on the day ahead.
John watched him leave thoughtfully, staring after him long after the procession had left.
“You have a successful trip up north?” Matthew asked, walking up next to him. The Stranger held his pipe in one hand and leaned up against the bridge’s railing.
“It was a partial success,” John qualified. “We cleared out David’s old palace and destroyed it along with most of the evil it contained.”
Matthew scratched his head. “Most of it, huh?”
Sighing, John leaned forward, resting his arms on the railing. “The Dark Bowl wasn’t there.”
The Stranger snorted. “You didn’t get it two hundred years ago and you missed it again?”
&
nbsp; “He has some other plan in place,” said John. “I fear I missed something important.”
Matthew took a draw from his pipe. “About that. One of his servants made a visit to my house while I was away.”
John turned his head and looked Matthew in the eyes. “What did they take?”
“One of those white moonrat eyes you sent me,” he replied regretfully.
John hung his head.
“It’s always been David’s way,” Matthew said. “Foil ten of his plans, it’s always the eleventh one that bites you.”
John looked back over at him and gave him a weary smile. “It is good to see you back in our Master’s favor, Matthew.”
“Yeah,” said Matthew. “Almost didn’t happen.” He stretched. “So what’s your next step?”
“I was hoping you’d ask,” said John.
Epilogue
“Right this way, Sally!” said Nod, opening the fancy door for her with a flourish.
In her mind, the side of a mountain in the middle of nowhere was an odd place for such a door. It was made of plain wood with iron fastenings, but jewel encrusted runes were embossed all over it. What was the point? If it was like any of the other places Nod had taken her lately it was just another glorified cave. She understood putting a door up to keep out the animals, but she was pretty sure bears didn’t have an aversion to jewels.
Elise frowned at him as she stepped inside. “Where are you taking me this time?”
It seemed to Elise that Nod had dragged her across half the Known Lands. After taking her through Malaroo they had attempted to sneak through Benador but had been arrested on the road. Nod had been forced to kill three people so that they could escape.
They had then run from the soldiers by taking passage on a ship posing as a married couple. Nod had loved that one. After three weeks at sea they had arrived in northern Khalpany and he had been taking her from one dark cave to the next ever since. All the while he called her Sally. The name he had chosen impulsively in Malaroo.
“This’ll be our last stop if my mind’s thinkin’ right,” said Nod with a coy smile. He had dyed his red hair black after the Benador incident and it was just starting to grow out, giving it an odd striped appearance. “You gonna miss me, Sally?”
Behemoth (The Jharro Grove Saga Book 6) Page 45