by Joseph Lallo
Rogan bowed to the lords, and then to Julia, before following Marcus out of the room. He wanted to ask the others why a girl child should be brought along.
* * *
Keverin waited for the three men to leave before turning to Lucius. “I need you to scry Elvissa for me. Can you do that?”
“Easily. I’ve viewed it before.”
He went to fetch the mirror that Lucius used last time. It was hanging in its accustomed place above his washbasin. He moved the porcelain jug and bowl aside, took the mirror down, and made a mental note to replace it. Taking it down, he reminded himself to get another from a spare room to replace it. He laid the mirror upon his desk, and invited Lucius to take his chair.
“You can keep the mirror. I think you might be using it a lot more than I in the days ahead.”
Lucius nodded his thanks. “If you need scrying while we’re on the road, I’ll need one a little smaller. About…” he held his hands apart. “This big would be best.”
Keverin nodded. His mother had a hand mirror about that size. She’d bought it in town, so he knew he could buy one there easily enough. “I’ll arrange it.” He sat to watch as Lucius worked. “Have you had any luck in your lessons, lady?”
Julia scowled. “No, and it’s not for want of trying, I can tell you. I can never get the right image. When I try to see Malcor, I see us instead. I don’t mean the fortress, I mean her people. You, sometimes Mathius… a few others. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
“You need to stop worrying about your friends, and concentrate more,” Lucius said absently, not looking up from the mirror.
“Oh Lucius!” Julia said, crossly. “You always say that, give it a rest, why don’t you? I do concentrate. I can’t help it when other things pop into my head.”
“Lord Purcell?” Lucius said, finally looking up. “I think you’ll want to see this for yourself. It’s not good news.”
Keverin stood and joined Purcell to study the mirror’s image. Elvissa was under attack. That wasn’t the bad news, or rather, it wasn’t the only bad news.
“The gate is down,” Purcell said, shocked to see his home so wounded.
Keverin nodded. That was the other bad news.
“Don is holding them though,” Purcell went on. “He always did have a good head on his shoulders. The Tanjuner bast… sorry, lady. The enemy hasn’t bothered to burn the town. They probably want to save it for their own people.”
“I have more bad news for you,” Lucius said. “The gate was destroyed with magic.”
“How strong do you think?”
“Not very. A journeyman of only middling ability, I would say. See here and here,” Lucius said pointing to the mirror. “The gates are still whole. They were blown off their hinges, but they weren’t destroyed. If you compare that with what is left of the west courtyard here at Athione, you’ll understand what I mean.”
“That can’t be right,” Julia protested. “To make such a mess of our gate you needed fifty sorcerers.”
The image gradually faded, and the mirror returned to normal. Lucius pushed it away. “We aren’t all the same strength, lady, despite all of us wearing the black. I was the strongest mage to face you, with Belgard the next strongest, but he was apparently only average.” Lucius frowned at something, but he shook off the distraction. “The next strongest wouldn’t equal Mathius’ current level. I’m a strong master mage, perhaps a weak wizard. We knew that Darius was strong, but we didn’t know he was the strongest you had here. Why do you think Mortain sent so many of us?”
Keverin frowned, remembering that time and his many conversations with Darius. “We assumed that he would send his strongest. That’s why we brought Julia here.”
Lucius shook his head. “Our strongest mages are never put in danger. They’re for keeping the rest of us in line, and for siring a new generation. It was hoped that true sorcerers would result from the union, but so far, nothing exceptional has come of it.”
Julia scowled. “And what do the women think of being Mortain’s battery hens?”
Keverin winced at hearing that deceptively sweet tone in her voice. She’d used it to flay him more than once. Most notably those times that he’d tried to prevent her from going into town. She didn’t understand that even East Town had dangers—not as many as other places true, but no town was completely free of crime. Moreover, there was Jymis to consider—though he should be in Devarr by this time. All he’d wanted to do was protect her, but the last time he’d ordered her not to go, she’d turned red and nearly struck him. She’d barely stopped herself before telling him just what he could do with his orders.
He smiled secretly. No child should know such language, especially not a girl child. Jessica insisted that Julia was a woman grown, but still! It was a little much being berated by someone barely two thirds his size. She’d called him… what was it again? A horse’s arse, that was it.
“Sometimes I think that I almost understand you, lady, but then you say something from out-world like that!” Lucius said querulously. “What by the God is a battery hen?”
“It’s nothing,” Julia said with a weary sigh. “What do the woman think about being used for creating new mages?”
“They’re not forced to marry. We aren’t complete barbarians! Besides, mages are sought after. Our position in the Protectorate is an enviable one when seen from the outside.”
“As I see it,” Keverin said, interrupting them. “We have two choices. One, we collect up all of Purcell’s men, all of Gy’s, and march with a thousand of mine to Elvissa. The problem is it will take fourteen days or more to get there.
“Option two, we all march upon Malcor instead. We somehow capture the fortress, kill Athlone, and replace him with Jihan. Then we march to Elvissa, and hope Jihan can hold the Protectorate off while we march back.”
“Both plans are insane!” Gylaren said. “Elvissa will fall before we can get there!”
“I don’t care how long it takes. Elvissa is mine, and my youngest is counting on my help!” Purcell raged.
The lords argued back and forth trying to find the answer to an impossible situation.
“Hey!” Julia yelled, and silenced the argument. “I don’t know your world very well yet, but it seems to me that you need two armies.”
“If I had two armies, don’t you think I would use them both?” Keverin growled.
“Then split the one you have! Send me with Gy and Purcell to Elvissa, while Lucius goes with you to take Malcor. Simple!”
He shook his head, knowing it wouldn’t work. Malcor was stronger than Athione. It had to be. It sat on a flat plain leagues across; such terrain couldn’t provide the same protection as he enjoyed here. Athione needed four thousand men in time of war, but he could get by easily with two thousand when at peace. Malcor on the other hand needed five, perhaps even six thousand in war, and not many less when at peace.
“You don’t know of what you speak,” he said. “Malcor is huge. There must be at least five thousand men in there. If they see me strolling up to their gates with only a thousand men at my back, they’ll storm out and butcher us all.”
Lucius looked thoughtful. “Julia and not I should accompany you to Malcor. I must confess that I’d prefer to fight Tanjuners rather than my own people. Malcor’s heir is your guest, is he not? Can you not use him to enter the fortress by stealth? ”
Keverin frowned. By stealth? Hmmm, by stealth...
* * *
42 ~ Fortress Malcor
When Keverin learned that Julia didn’t know how to a ride, his face had assumed a mask of pity that she hadn’t understood at the time. She did now, only too well. After days in the saddle, her backside and lower back were a mass of pain.
Since leaving Athione, she’d become intimately familiar with the full horror of travel by horseback. The excitement of seeing something new, of adventuring beyond Athione’s walls, had palled, replaced by cramping legs and muscle s
pasms. The privacy of the women’s quarter, with its scented air and many comforts, had never seemed so far away as it did now. She doubted that she would be able to walk when they stopped for the night.
The first few days of the journey had been easy. Keverin had kept a slow pace to teach her how to ride, and had slowly increased it as she learned to get along with the horse that he gave her. A tall, powerful, and graceful mare, Yeetah had proven forgiving when she made mistakes. Although it would have been appropriate, her name didn’t mean patience. It was a variation on the much older name of Ayita, which meant first to dance. The mare was very graceful, and she did seem to place her feet with care as if dancing, but her handlers had decided that she was more like a noble lady than a dancer. They named her Yeetah, which meant beloved lady.
Julia considered the ground so far below, and wondered how to dismount without collapsing. She didn’t think her knees would support her weight. The light was fading as the evening eased into night, and Keverin’s men were busy doing chores and setting up the camp. Their lord and master wasn’t far away, but he was overseeing things, and she didn’t feel right asking him for help.
Yeetah sidestepped, impatient with the delay. She wanted her dinner. “Sorry girl, give me a minute here, okay?” she muttered and considered options. She needed a levitation spell really, but a rock or a tree-stump would have to do. It was a long way down.
“Do you need help?” Ahnao said, looking up at her worriedly. “You don’t look well, lady.”
Did she look that bad? She sighed glumly, knowing that she probably did. She felt shaky with tiredness, and she hadn’t eaten since this morning. She probably had low blood sugar.
“If I can just get my legs to cooperate, I might be able to dismount without breaking my fool neck, though just letting go would probably be quicker, and achieve the same result.”
Ahnao looked confused.
“My backside planted in the dirt,” she explained. “It would be worth the bruises to get out of the saddle for a while. This thing is worse than any torture I can imagine.”
Ahnao grinned. “I’ll get help,” she said and hurried away.
The girl returned only moments later with Jihan. He plucked Julia from the saddle as if she weighed nothing, but rather than set her upon her feet, he carried her in his arms like a child to Keverin’s pavilion, where the men raced to raise it for her. They always erected the huge thing at the centre of camp, and they always ignored their own needs until it was done. She felt a little guilty for the concessions they made for her, but she was grateful for the privacy the huge thing afforded. Keverin had to share the much smaller tents that his men used.
Jihan carried her inside the moment the pavilion was ready, and left her in Ahnao’s care. Julia stripped and lay upon her stomach while Ahnao applied a soothing balm to her sore thighs and backside. Heat penetrated the cramped muscles, and replaced the pain with a growing numbness.
“Thanks, Ahnao. That feels so much better. I hope I’ll be all right before we reach Malcor.”
Ahnao wiped her hands on a scrap of cloth. “I learned to ride when I was little, but I remember what it was like. You’ll be fine in a few more days.”
“I hope so. I’ll be no good to Jihan if I can’t walk.”
“You must be really strong with all them muscles,” Ahnao said.
Julia paused in her dressing, trying to follow her friend’s abrupt subject change. “Pretty strong I guess,” she said slowly, trying to think. It had to be invoking Jihan’s name that had caused it. “I need to be strong to perform well in competitions, but it doesn’t help me here very much. I wish I could ride like you. That would be useful.”
Ahnao looked down and spoke in a small voice. “I ain’t that good. Even peasant brats like me can ride. It’s nothing.”
“Don’t put yourself down. In that dress, you look as much a high born lady as Jessica does.”
Ahnao shook her head, and didn’t look up. “Jihan is a lord’s son. He’s the heir to Malcor! How can such as me even dream…?”
Oh. She should have seen that one coming. The girl was smitten. Jihan was very pretty, she supposed, and he seemed nice enough, but unlike Ahnao, Jihan held no fascination for her.
He’s no Keverin, that’s for sure.
Wait, what? She lost her train of thought. Where the hell had that thought come from? She couldn’t be thinking about Keverin that way. He didn’t even like her, and was only being civil right now because he needed her help. When he no longer had a use for her, she was sure that he would go back to being his usual obnoxious self. Still, compared to Keverin, Jihan was a mere boy. A dangerous, sword wielding, exotically handsome boy, who would soon be Lord Protector of the North if all went well.
“He likes you, Ahnao. I’ve seen him looking at you when he thinks no one is watching.”
“Looking is nothing. A lord can dally with a peasant girl, but he won’t marry one.”
That didn’t sound like the Jihan she knew, and if his position as heir to Malcor worried him, he wouldn’t have risked everything to warn Keverin about his father’s treachery. Ahnao would be good for him, because she saw him, and not his titles. She wouldn’t be afraid to tell him the truth, and would happily puncture his ego when needed, but could she command the respect that she’d need from the others living at Malcor? Respect could be earned given time, but would they give her the chance?
“Do you know the difference between us, Ahnao?”
“You’re beautiful, and a lady, and strong, and—”
Julia interrupted. “Nothing. The difference is nothing, Ahnao. If I wore your old dress and spoke the way you do, everyone would call me a peasant, but put on a fancy dress and talk like Jessica, and suddenly I’m a lady. Do you see?”
Ahnao smiled hopefully, and then dropped her gaze.
“Don’t do that; it makes people think you’re timid or below them. You have to look them in the eyes. If you listen and remember to speak slowly at first, you can learn how to sound like a noble. We can ride together and chat on the way. I’ll try to teach you.”
“Do you think Jihan will want me?”
“Anything is possible. Just look at me. I wasn’t even born on this world! Getting you and Jihan together should be easy to arrange compared to that.”
Ahnao grinned. “I be good at remembering.”
“If someone asks you something, don’t answer straight away. You should wait a moment to collect your thoughts, and then speak carefully. You would normally say something like this: me ma said, I was to get the water. I would say this: my mother asked me to fetch the water. Do you see? The words I used have the same meaning as yours, but they sound completely different.”
Ahnao nodded. “I understand me—my lady.”
“That’s right. Two people of equal rank should call each other by name, unless you’re being introduced for the first time, or wish to be formal. After being introduced to someone like Jessica, you would say: I’m pleased to meet you, Lady Jessica. Later you would say hello Jessica or good morning Jessica, something like that.”
“I should say: I understand, Julia?” Ahnao said.
She nodded. “There will be servants at Malcor. Try to remember how Keverin talks to his servants. He treats them kindly, but you can hear the difference when he speaks to another lord.”
She really thought that everyone should be treated the same, but that wouldn’t work for Ahnao. She was too unsure of herself. She could be less formal once she became used to speaking differently.
They spoke late into the night, and rode together the next day to continue the lessons. When Keverin rode close, Ahnao listened carefully as she kept him talking for candlemarks. When he left, she called Brian over and chatted with him. Ahnao practised every day of the journey, and became quite good at mimicking what she heard.
And then the day came when Malcor loomed large.
* * *
43 ~ A Salutary Lesson
The fading light made Malcor seem formed of shadows, brooding upon its foundations, and waiting for the unwary to come too close.
What am I doing back here?
“We’re nearly there,” Julia said. “What are you going to tell your father if he asks about me?”
He shrugged. “I’ll just say we met on the road or something, but I doubt he’ll care. He doesn’t have much use for women, not since he killed my mother. If he asks why I came back, I’ll say Keverin turned me out.”
“Kev would never do that!”
“I know he wouldn’t, but my father will believe it. It’s something he’d do in his place.”
Julia nodded.
They rode up to the south gate and reined in. It was shut tight. He was sure the sentries had been watching them approach, but if so, they weren’t interested enough to greet them.
“Ho the gate!” Jihan called.
“Who comes?” the gatekeeper replied.
“Jihan, son of Athlone and heir to Malcor!”
He waited, wondering whether his father was aware of his arrival. That thought was soon answered. The gate swung open on well-greased hinges, and revealed Athlone standing in the courtyard with some of the men. Jihan urged Jezy to a walk and led Julia inside. He dismounted, handing his reins to a stable-hand, and lifted Julia down. He offered her his arm, and escorted her to meet his father.
“Where is Haiger?” Athlone said.
He took great pleasure in ignoring his father’s question, and turned to Julia. “Lady Julia, may I present my father, Lord Athlone? Father, this is Lady Julia. We met on my travels.”
“I’m delighted to meet you at last, Lord Athlone. Your son has told me sooo much about you,” Julia said sweetly.
“Delighted,” Athlone said through clenched teeth. He was trembling in anger, but he did incline his head to her. “It has been a long time since a lady so lovely has graced my halls. You are most welcome. If you’ll excuse me for just a moment, I would like to speak with my son.”