Twenty minutes later, following the directions of multiple servants in the palace, the pair found themselves in the nearly-empty armory. Still wearing the clothes they had worn at the dinner, they added a layer of pads, then began jousting with practice staves.
Coriae, Theus discovered, could be a focused fighter when she was full of emotion. She pummeled him mercilessly, until he finally ceased defending himself, and went on the attack as well. They each suffered bruises and blows. Then they switched to sword work, and Theus, his competitive juices flowing and his sympathy for Coriae diminished, delivered more pain to Coriae than he received.
“The two of you must really hate each other or really love each other,” a janitor spoke in passing as he mopped the floor while they rested before their last match.
“What if one of us hates and the other loves? Would that work?” Coriae asked with a laugh.
“If it works for the two of you, fight on. It’s close to the way my own marriage has run for the last twenty years,” the janitor laughed along with her, then left the pair alone to finish their match.
“You know I don’t hate you, don’t you?” Theus asked as they crossed their wooden practice swords for their final contest.
“I do, and I’ll let you prove it after this is done,” Coriae agreed, before she lunged at him with a forceful stab.
Minutes later, drenched in perspiration, the pair put their practice equipment and pads away in the racks. “Now you’ll prove you don’t hate me,” she told Theus, and refused to answer any questions as she led him behind a servant guide to find the kitchen.
“There was a time when we practiced with staves, and then you made an ointment that helped to reduce the sting and hasten the healing,” she told him. “Let’s see if you’re willing to make it for us now.
“You’ve mentioned it before; I’m sure I can,” Theus ventured, looking around at the well-stocked kitchen.
“It was thick, with some small lumps, and it had a greenish tint to it,” Coriae explained helpfully.
“Go fetch two eggs,” Theus directed her, and he pulled a pair of bowls down from a shelf, giving a groan as the welt on his arm ached.
Together, they mixed together the ointment in less than twenty minutes, then Coriae carried the bowl back upstairs into her room, insisting that Theus follow her. “A few days ago, you followed me into my room, then you pulled me unclothed out of my bathtub,” she pointed out. “Don’t try to play chivalrous now.
“Take off your shirt, and I’ll tell you a story,” she offered as they sat on the edge of her bed.
“One time, it seems like a long, long time ago, before we were a couple, back when I was just beginning to really notice a lot of things about you, while you were competing in the city tournament and living in our house, as a matter of fact,” she exclaimed. “Anyway, the day after I had fought and killed Monsant, when it was still a secret, I took out my tension by battling you with staves in our family armory. You saw a few of the bruises Monsant had left me with, so after the practice, you went to our kitchen and made up a batch of ointment, then surprised me by bringing it up to my room – your first time there! – and we treated each other’s injuries,” she recited.
“It was very kind of you, very touching and memorable,” she told him as she continued to dab spots of the ointment onto him. She paused and gave him a tender smile, then stroked more ointment on his shoulder.
The next morning they ate breakfast with Alsman and Eiren.
“There’s a report that you two were quite savage to one another in the armory last night,” Alsman said with a raised eyebrow.
“It was her idea,” Theus quickly pointed out.
“It helps to release tension,” Coriae replied. “And it keeps us both humble.”
“In about an hour,” Eiren changed the topic, “we’ll go sit down with a group of merchants, and we’ll present Alsman’s letter to you in front of them, so they know that you are going to carry our concerns to Stoke. That will placate them for a day or two.”
“Would you like me to carry your negotiator back to the king’s palace with me?” Theus impulsively asked. “I could help you get the negotiations started more quickly.”
Eiren and Alsman looked at one another. “We’d have to pick someone in a hurry,” Alsman said. “But I know who my first choice would be: Lord Melbourne.”
“He would do an excellent job,” Eiren agreed. “And the merchants trust him. You should announce that an ambassador will be sent soon, but don’t say more until he agrees.”
“He’s here now, in the armory,” Alsman said with a straight face. “If all of you warlike creatures would like to go approach him quickly, perhaps you can persuade him to serve his nation.”
Eiren threw her head back and laughed heartily. “You want us to go fight against our proposed ambassador?”
“I would call it comradely persuasion,” Alsman grinned.
“Would the two of you like to return to the armory mats?” Eiren looked at Theus and Coriae.
“Ladies against men? Staves against swords? Greenfalls against visitors? How do you want to approach this?” Coriae asked with keen interest.
“Let’s discuss this as we walk,” Eiren told her. The two hooked arms, and began to stroll back to the armory, with Theus sheepishly trailing behind.
An hour later, they rushed back from the armory and burst into the room where Alsman was speaking with the assembled merchants. Lord Melbourne was with them, and they all were freshly bathed, their hair still dripping wet and their clothes a different wardrobe than they had worn at the start of the day.
“His lordship is agreeable to our proposal; tell them!” Eiren enthusiastically burst out with the news as she took a seat.
“My partner informs me that we need to make introductions and share some news with you,” Alsman told the largely male assemblage, drawing a round of appreciative chuckles.
“These two guests are his lordship Theus, the marshal of Limber, and his companion, the Lady Coriae, of the House of Warrell in Great Forks,” Alsman stood and made formal introductions. “And of course most of you know that Lord Theus was instrumental in our battle to cleanse Greenfalls of the corrupt former governor, and then to defeat the Stoke army that briefly besieged us.
“He now comes to us as a messenger on behalf of the new King of Stoke, Holco,” Alsman pronounced, causing a murmur to rise among the guests around the table.
“The new king seeks peace with Greenfalls,” Alsman told his now-rapt audience, “and the tone of his letter is promising.
“Peace would be welcome for both our cities, if developed properly, and so,” Alsman rose to his feet. “Theus, I ask that you carry this letter back to King Holco. I have written to him as the provisional governor of Greenfalls, and will appoint Lord Melbourne here to be our ambassador to the court at Stoke, empowered to negotiate a treaty that will restore peaceful relations and full resumption of trade as quickly as possible.
“Lord Melbourne has agreed to play this role on behalf of our city,” Alsman informed his attentive listeners. The crowd murmured approvingly.
“Theus, I ask you as our good friend from Limber if you will convey Lord Melbourne himself to Stoke today, so that negotiations can reopen the trade between our two cities as quickly as possible,” Alsman asked. “Will you do so?”
“It will be my pleasure to assist,” Theus replied with a nod of his head.
The merchants in the room applauded enthusiastically, and their audience with the acting governor came to an end on a positive note, the merchants pleased that some progress towards restoring trade had been proclaimed.
“Will you take me with you too? Or will you at least be back here tonight?” Coriae asked as they stood near each other while the room emptied out.
“I originally thought we would just come here for one night to deliver Holco’s letter,” Theus replied. “But helping with these arguments,” he began.
“Negotiations,” Coriae corrected
him helpfully.
“Helping carry messages for these negotiations may take a little more time than I expected,” he corrected himself.
“What’s this?” Coriae idly asked, spotting a shiny trinket on the floor near where the merchants had sat. She bent down to pick it up, and as her fingers touched it, the sharp-cornered object exploded with a loud, smoky boom, which was instantly followed by a lurid green glow that bathed the entire interior of the room.
The people who remained in the room – a pair of servants, one of the merchants, Alsman, Eiren, Melbourne, and Theus – watched fearfully as Coriae started to collapse to the ground, before her body suddenly jerked upright into a rigid posture, with an evil rictus grin on her face as she twisted slightly from side to side, scanning the room with eyes that were too wide open.
She screamed out in pain, as the others shouted in shock, and then she collapsed. But in the space where her body had dangled, a shadowy figure remained, transparent and glowing as the source of the ghastly green light in the room.
It was Donal, his eyes focused on where Theus stood nearby. The dark magician was present in some strange, magical form. He was present, but he was not. It was a formidable display of power, something Theus could not imagine achieving.
Yet Donal was not quite as formidable in appearance as he had once been. His left sleeve dangled empty of the hand Theus had burned off. The left side of his face had a long scar, and his appearance was on a man much aged, far older than he had appeared when Theus had faced him months before in Great Forks.
“I’ve been waiting for one of my spies to leave me a notification of where you were, nasty young charlatan,” Donal’s voice slightly echoed as it sounded.
“Is this one of interest to you?” Donal asked as he lazily pointed his right hand down at Coriae. A burst of red light left his fingertips and struck Coriae, making her give a muffled scream.
Without hesitation, Theus seized his own energy, and deliberately combined his light and air spells – as he had inadvertently done when he’d battled Donal in Great Forks – then he fired a blast at the misty figure of Donal. The light ray passed through the figure and struck the wall behind it, setting a tapestry ablaze.
Donal’s red light ceased, and the figure flinched, but remained present.
“She will die now, unless you listen to me,” Donal said.
“I will allow her to live, and I will allow your city of Limber to remain independent, if you will not stand in the way of the spread of the power of the king of Southsand, and the worship of Ind’Petro,” Donal’s figure rasped. “It is a generous offer. You had better consider it, or else prepare to suffer consequences.”
Theus stared at Donal with hate-filled eyes. He was angry that the dark magician had caught him so off-guard, and so unprepared. He was even angrier that Donal had harmed Coriae.
Theus’s eyes shifted focus, and saw the flames on the wall behind Donal, the flames caused by Theus’s own blast of energy.
There was a way to douse the fire, he suddenly realized, a way that was planted in his mind. He could feel and hear a spell, one that he had never known before – a spell to conjure water. The words and the application were in the forefront of his mind, as if it had suddenly emerged intact and ready, emerged from the impenetrable cloud of magical knowledge that had resided in his mind since the day he had let the magical stone from Coriae’s ring fundamentally change him. One of the spells that had been hidden in his mind was revealed.
He recited the spell, then mentally recited the spell for air as well, and cast them together, draining more of his energy to create a spray that he directed from his hand through the air towards the burning cloth. As the water passed through Donal’s image, the magician screamed in agony.
“Your death is on its way!” the dark one shouted, then hurled a small, solid object at Theus just as his phantasmagorical image disappeared.
The water meanwhile continued to stream and strike the tapestry, raising clouds of steam. Donal’s flung object flew towards Theus; the boy cut off his magical water, and dove to his right to try to avoid the object.
He moved too slowly though, and it struck his thigh. He felt it strike and pierce his flesh as his body momentarily flattened itself in the air, parallel to the floor. He struck the floor and rolled, his hands darting to the front of his leg, where agony itself seemed to have taken residence in his body.
Theus lay on the floor and looked down at his leg. He could see his pants leg torn, and a bulging silver disk attached to his leg.
He was in pain, but he looked at Coriae, lying on the floor; her body was trembling wildly. He looked at the others in the room, standing in frozen astonishment and fear. He looked at the steaming, dripping, charred pieces of the tapestry still hanging from the wall.
In a matter of moments, the room had become a scene of horror.
Chapter 17
“Theus, are you okay?” Alsman was the first to break the shocked silence in the room. He hurried over to Theus, as Eiren hurried to check on Coriae. Lord Melbourne followed Alsman a moment later, and the servants hurried over to Coriae as well.
“I’ll be okay,” Theus replied, not knowing if he would, not knowing what the metal object embedded in his leg was, knowing only that it produced agonizing pain. “Go check on Coriae – treat her any way you can.”
Alsman nodded immediate agreement, and turned to approach the wounded girl, while Melbourne held out a hand and helped Theus rise to his feet. Melbourne supported Theus, so that together they hobbled over to Coriae.
Alsman was chanting a prayer to Currense, his voice full of emotion. Coriae lay on the ground, Eiren and a pair of female servants trying to sooth her, as her body trembled wildly and her eyes remained tightly shut.
“I hear you, my priest,” a woman’s voice filled the room. “I feel the evil that has been in this place. Bring both the victims to my temple at once, to the main sanctuary.”
“Bring a stretcher,” one of the women servants called out loudly, and the youngest maid, wearing a light blue dress, went running out into the hallway.
“You go now, and we’ll bring her,” Alsman directed Theus, looking at his leg, where the gleaming metal object remained embedded in the patch of bloody flesh visible through the torn pants.
“I go with her myself, the whole way,” Theus rejected the suggestion. He cautiously knelt down, and took one of Coriae’s hands in his. The girl gave a soft sigh, and her trembling diminished substantially.
When the stretcher arrived, Theus and Coriae were accompanied by Eiren and Alsman, and several servants.
“Go to the armory and tell the guards that you’ll need an escort to Stoke after all,” Alsman told Lord Melbourne. “It appears our magician has other priorities at the moment.”
“Was that voice who it seemed to be?” Eiren asked Theus as they approached the door.
Out in the hallway they found a large crowd of curious observers, people who had heard the commotion in the room, or heard of the commotion in the room, and were gaping shamelessly at the site.
“Go find out which merchants were standing in the part of the room where that metal device was found,” Eiren urgently directed one of the guards she saw in the hallway. “Put them all in cells beneath the palace, the cells that the former governor used, and question them all to find out who left that awful thing in the room.”
The small group hurried through the halls, past the stunned members of the palace staff, then out into the streets. Their way was cleared by the uniformed guards who hurried them along and removed all impediments along the route. Bystanders grumbled at the abrupt passage, but the hurrying rescue party passed by, slowed only by the limping pace of Theus with his impaled thigh.
Theus felt a sense of hopeful joy wash over him as soon as Currense’s majestic temple came into view. He trusted the goddess who so often had spoken to him, recognized him, and assisted him. With her divine powers, he felt confident that she would save Coriae’s life, as well as
help heal him from the metal projectile embedded in his flesh. Despite his pain, he increased his speed to catch up with Coriae’s bearers, which allowed them to increase their own pace.
The group swept across the plaza. The priests in the temple, seeing the swift approach of Alsman’s followers, rapidly opened all the doors to allow entrance, and stood aside as the dozen visitors rushed past them and into the sanctuary.
“Place her in the waters,” Currense’s voice intoned as soon as they entered. “Theus, join her in the water,” the goddess’s words reverberated, frightening the other worshippers who were in the temple to offer their own prayers and praises before the goddess. Priests in the temple began to flock to the sanctuary to see what might be in store from the newest appearance by the goddess, who had not been seen by any living person prior to recent months.
“Theus, use your cuffs to heal her in the water,” Currense commanded, as the bearers splashed into the shallow portions of the basin that captured the splashing fountain cascades. “The rest of you leave the water for your own safety.”
“How do I do that?” Theus asked desperately, as he waded in after Coriae and knelt in the water beside where she floated.
“Did Limber not instruct you in your cuffs?” the voice of the goddesses asked incredulously. “Do males have no sense?” she added a scornful question.
There was a flash of light, and a frightening cloud of steam in the fountain basin next to Theus, and then Currense stood beside him, a flowing figure of water standing erect at his side. Others in the temple shouted in astonishment, but Theus barely heard the sounds as he was absorbed by the awareness of the divine power at his side
“He just doesn’t think,” Theus heard her mutter. The goddess’s translucent fingers reached over and touched Theus’s hands.
He felt pressure. He felt the cool touch of living water. And he felt the surge of life energy that animated the spirit of the goddess within the liquid being beside him. It was an overwhelming surge of energy, many, many more times powerful than what he had experienced any time he had ever maximized the amount of sunlight energy he could collect and convert to his own energy.
Tangled Engagements (The Memory Stones Series Book 4) Page 20