“Really, woman?” Kevin asks, turning to the funeral pyre. Shaking his head, the old man wipes a few tears from his bloodshot eyes and snorts. “I promise that I’m not joking here and everything I’m about to see is straight off the page. The first thing to know is that all classes will recommence tomorrow morning. The only activity anyone gets to avoid is the run, which will be headed by Theresa Marley from now on. It really doesn’t surprise me that she listed that as part of her estate. Daniel Skyblade will be put in charge of all her business dealings until the new headmaster is ready to accept them. All of her trophies, including the Sword Dragon head, go to Duggan Ironcaster, but she better not hear about a museum being built in her honor or she’ll be waiting for him on the other side. Kevin Masterson gets Bolt along with an enchanted saddle to prevent my, and I quote, out of shape carcass from getting banged up any more. I no longer have an excuse to grow fat behind a desk. Love you too, woman. Finally, Hamilton Military Academy and Selenia’s entire fortune goes to Delvin Cunningham. If he is unable to immediately assume his responsibilities then he may pick a temporary replacement from the attached list of people that she feels won’t burn the place down. This coming from the woman who requested a gigantic pyre in the middle of the school. Anyway, it’s all rather simple and to the point just like the greatest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing through the good times and living nightmares. You want to say anything, headmaster?”
The crowd manages to become even quieter as Delvin stands and takes the podium, his eyes absorbing the sight before him. All of the students and teachers are watching expectantly, their blades of mourning held tightly in their quivering hands. He catches himself searching for Selenia among the spectral forms on the wall before remembering that they are not ghosts. The silence is crushing and he fears that letting it linger will be an insult to his mentor. He considers seeing if Selenia will return as a ghost to make him continue, the childish thought causing him more pain than amusement. Straightening his back and counting to five in his head, Delvin decides to utter the first thing that comes to his mind.
“I don’t know what to say,” he blurts out, cringing at the silliness of his words. Risking a glance at Nyx, he sees that she looks equally lost and confused. “Daniel said everything that the rest of us would have said. Our beginnings may be different and varied, but our endings are all the same. Selenia set us on the path that we now follow and we are thankful for that. As the new headmaster, I don’t know if I can meet the standards that she set. As one of her students, I know I don’t have a choice. She always told me to never accept total failure as an ending. Even if I lose, I need to walk away with some type of victory because that will make me stronger and help me move on. You know, I don’t want to focus on endings, so let’s talk about beginnings. Selenia took me off the street and turned me into the man you see awkwardly standing here. I’ve told my friends this, but she was more than my teacher and role model. Selenia took me in and made me her son. Now, I’m . . . so much more than I ever thought I could be and it all started with her. We should honor her by sharing our stories because no matter where we came from and where we go, we will always be united by her memory. Not sure how we go about doing this next part. Do you want to say anything first, Nyx?”
With a violent shake of her head, the channeler flexes her fingers and waits for everyone to raise their swords. She notices that instead of weapons, Timoran and Duggan hold tankards of frothy mead toward the funeral pyre. Nyx refuses to act until her father nods his head and steps away to let her cast the agreed upon spell. Focusing on the thunderclap longsword, the powerful champion unleashes a plume of flame that is intense enough to consume the enchanted weapon along with its owner. Fizzle darts around the fire to add his rainbow breath to the mix, creating a colorful inferno that runs the entire length of the pyre. To avoid dropping Selenia, the legs are shielded from the flames, which devour the armbands and race toward the top. The smell of apples drifts over the dais and sparks of lightning arch out of the fire, all of the crackling motes falling into the fountain. Nyx maintains enough control to prevent the enchanted sword from exploding, instead turning it into ashes that mix with those of the legendary mercenary. When the body has been entirely consumed, the channeler creates a gust of wind that sends the remains drifting throughout Visindor Forest like she requested in her will.
Everyone is so busy watching the ashes fly into the distance that nobody notices Delvin walk off the dais. Feeling like the world is crushing his chest, the brown-haired warrior walks to the stables and slips out the side door. Staring at the damaged clearing, he wonders if he will be able to help with the repairs before they leave. It is an odd thought since Delvin is still not sure he can handle the responsibilities that come with the academy. Trudging alongside the wall, he stops at the Sword Dragon’s head and sits beneath its open mouth. Even though he wants to cry, the champion finds that he is holding onto more guilt than grief. Pounding his fist against the muddy ground, he runs through the battle in his mind again and tries to identify the point where he failed to save Selenia. Like all of the times before, Delvin comes to the irritating conclusion that there was nothing he could do outside of knocking her out and rushing into battle. The idea of such a betrayal, even for her own good, does not sit well with him and the brief consideration makes him nauseous.
“You’re thinking about how you could have prevented this,” says a familiar voice from inside the Sword Dragon’s mouth. Tumbling out of the shadowy maw, Tavris lands on his back and remains there with a fang-baring grin. “Sorry for what happened, boss. Selenia was a great woman. Wish I got to meet her more than once and that was only in passing. Still, it was enough to know that she wouldn’t want you to take the blame for her death.”
“What are you doing here?” Delvin asks, unable to return the friendly smile. He looks around for signs of his other friends since the vampire is able to summon the other ghostly members of the Frozen Blades. “Looks like it’s just the two of us. So, why are the Dawn Fangs interested in this?”
“They couldn’t care less, but I’m your friend,” the tall man replies as he sits up. Facing his former leader, the pale-skinned warrior keeps one eye on the shadows. “We have agents all over Windemere. Very little happens without us knowing, so this news reached Nyte within hours of it happening. One of the information handlers was nice enough to let me know since she guessed I would want to check in on you. Took some convincing, but Mab finally sent me here by creepy shadow path. Though, I have to find my own way back. She had me leave the boys behind too. Forget all that since this isn’t about me. Looks like you need a friend to talk to.”
The champion forces a smile, but knows his sunken eyes and tense muscles reveal his true emotions. “Thanks. You’re right that I keep thinking about the battle and coming to the same conclusion. There was nothing I could do and she ended up saving me. Not only my life, but my spirit. My enemy wants to face a broken man and she prevented that from happening. The hurt of losing Selenia is tempered by the fact that she won her last fight and passed away within these walls. She always told me that people like her were never meant to die peacefully or surrounded by loved ones. Don’t know anybody else who would use their final moment to prove themselves wrong. I really should have said this while on the stage.”
“Probably wouldn’t have sounded as nice,” Tavris admits while pulling a canteen off his belt. He takes a sip of the sour blood, the taste reminding him of his favorite type of grapes. “I guess you’re in better shape than I thought. Take some good advice from the current Mercenary Prince. Remember your allies for the good they did when alive and not for the fact that they’re gone.”
“Kevin made me the new Mercenary King.”
“What?”
“He left a message giving me the title before the battle.”
“You outrank me and you’re not even a mercenary?”
“At least until he takes it back.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s heading thi
s way.”
Delvin glances to his right to see Kevin limping towards them, the old man red-faced from moving so quickly. He stops to catch his breath and lean against the wall, a hiccup revealing that he has already started drinking. A loud burp helps to clear the veteran’s head and he wipes his mouth on the back of his dress shirt. Pulling out a pipe, he lights a match on the Sword Dragon and begins to puff out indistinct clouds. The special mixture helps him regain most of his strength and he enjoys the scowl on Delvin’s face at the sight of a scuff mark on the trophy. A tear rolls down his cheek at the memory of Selenia having the same expression whenever he did something to aggravate her.
“You and I need to have a chat in private,” Kevin says, his lips smacking on the end of the wooden pipe. He aims his cane at Tavris, which causes the Dawn Fang to jump to attention out of respect. “If you don’t mind, kid, I’d like to make sure we’re not disturbed. Think you can guard the door to my office or is that too low a task for the Mercenary Prince? Eh, doesn’t really matter. You’re all I’ve got and I outrank both of you no matter the titles. Experience beats all, children. Now, follow me.”
*****
Kevin quietly runs his finger around the rim of his glass, the whiskey inside remaining untouched. Still deciding on what to say first, he watches the young man who he remembers treating like a son and is now both his boss. Stretching his arm, he uses his cane to poke at a cabinet drawer that holds all of the records from Delvin’s time as a student. A chuckle slips from the old warrior’s lips when he realizes that the champion will one day be his son-in-law, which will make their relationship even more entertaining. Placing his drink on the desk, Kevin hoists his bum leg onto a pile of important papers that he is more than willing to use as a pillow. His chair creaks as he leans back and he makes himself comfortable, which runs the risk of him falling asleep. The veteran decides that there are worse things for him to do during this meeting since he feels both emotionally and physically drained. From the expression on Delvin’s face, he can tell that he is not the only one that is in dire need of a nap.
“Quite a few things to discuss and I don’t know where to start,” Kevin admits with a friendly smirk. With a shrug, he taps his cane on the underside of the desk, which opens the front. “First thing is that I’d like my armor back. It’s an heirloom, which has been passed down the Masterson line, but not parent to child. Goes to the grandchild, which we both know is not in the near future. No reason to apologize, kid, since you didn’t know and I’m sure my daughter had a hand in this. Then again, I don’t think she knew either. Really should make a list of family traditions and heirlooms for her. Anyway, the second thing is that you can keep the title of Mercenary King.”
“But I’m not a mercenary anymore,” Delvin replies as he takes the enchanted chainmail out of his pouch. Folding the armor, he gently places it back in the desk and closes the door. “Selenia handed off her title when she created the academy. I feel like I should do the same. She set a very high standard and I need to follow in her footsteps.”
“You’re going to be that kind of headmaster, huh?” says the veteran, a hint of mockery in his voice. Grabbing his drink, the man takes a long sip of whiskey and exhales in a way that the smell caresses his own nose. “In that case, you need to cook meals like you’re trying to kill people. Probably should dye your hair pink and make it shorter. Don’t be too friendly with the staff and students in public, but be approachable. Marriage and children are not your priority, which won’t go over too well with my daughter. Oh, and you need to transform yourself into a half-elf.”
The champion holds up his hand to stop the blunt teasing and takes a sip of water, the thought of drinking alcohol unappealing in his grief. “Point taken, old man. Though you could have been nicer about it. Just because Selenia did something doesn’t mean I have to do it. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
Kevin rubs his bad leg before lowering it to the floor and struggling to his feet. Limping around the desk, he tosses his cane to his other hand and uses it to pull down a framed document from the top of a cabinet. He carries the old charter back to his seat and steadies it on a pile of books so that Delvin can read it from where he is sitting. The old man closes his eyes and relaxes for a few minutes, his mind replaying memories of the early days of the academy. Many of the events were bittersweet and he finds himself amazed that they survived the first year without the place collapsing around them. When the champion clears his throat, Kevin slowly opens his eyes and scratches his beard.
“Setting up the current mercenary system was a battle,” he explains, grabbing the charter and tapping at the glass. Seeing a smudge, he uses his sleeve to clean it and frowns as he makes it worse. “Took a lot of fights and negotiations to get others to go along with something that had never been done before. It took about a year for things to settle and people to realize the benefit in having a fake royal family. They saw that it made employers take mercenaries more seriously and brought genuine respect to the profession. With Fort Journeyman still out of commission, it’s important to keep those holding the titles in action. Tzefira has her army and I’m going to tell your blood-drinking friend to take some jobs or his master will have me knocking on her front door. I already asked Daniel to work on appointing a new Mercenary Princess from those who are vying for the title. Before you ask or complain, you’re doing fine as a champion. This way those in the trade will remember the system and life will get back to normal once the fort is revived. By the way, the mercenaries are thing that you need to casually check in with as Selenia’s heir. Always remember that the academy isn’t her only legacy.”
“This feels like a heavier burden than it did a minute ago,” Delvin claims as he gets up to wander around the office. Running his finger along a shelf, he holds his breath to avoid inhaling the disturbed dust. “Half of me wants to make a mark on this academy while the other half thinks it’s perfect. So much is ahead of me that I’m not sure where to look. For the love and loyalty of Ehre, I don’t even know what I should focus on first.”
“Want to hear a little secret? Selenia said the same thing after she had been running this place for a week. Only difference is that she yelled it and mentioned Ram instead of Ehre,” the grinning veteran says while he puts the charter on top of a small table. He yanks open a drawer that releases a puff of dust and rummages for a stain-covered notebook. “You can study her notes from the first year, which was a hilarious mess. Her reputation attracted people who only wanted to fight for money. She didn’t mind training mercenaries, but these students weren’t interested in discipline. A lot of people got suspended and expelled, which was disheartening. Then one day, Selenia came back from the run with Fizzle on her head and an entire student body under a magical trance. So, no matter what you do out of frustration, kid, she’s probably done worse and only a handful of people know about it.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Because we both know you already figured it out.”
“I need to help my friends face the Baron.”
“Then we need to choose a temporary headmaster.”
Before Delvin can stop him, Kevin grabs a small pile of folders off the windowsill and tosses them over the desk. They land on the champion’s chair, which topples over and spills them onto the cluttered floor. With a nonchalant yawn, the veteran swings his leg onto his desk and massages his bad shoulder. He nods his head toward a broom in the corner of the room, a fat spider having made a web between it and the wall. Kevin shrugs when the younger warrior leans against a cabinet and pretends to ignore the silent suggestion. A minute of silence continues as they eye the mess that manages to look worse by the second.
“Remind me to hire you an assistant. I’d make cleaning this place a form of detention, but I’m sure that would cost us students,” Delvin replies as he walks to the files and shifts them with his foot. He makes no move to pick them up since he is already familiar with every name that he sees. “I think Selenia was ri
ght. The best choices are Daniel and Theresa. He can handle the administrative duties along with the business side of things. People will see me choosing him as smart and he can make it an easy transition for anyone who has a contract with Selenia. Theresa is already in charge of the run and has become a respected teacher here. The students will listen to her and her relationship with Thomas means she won’t leave for an adventure. Yeah, I picked up on that before the battle. Still, I really don’t like the idea of leaving all of this for others while I wander off.”
“Welcome to leadership, kid,” Kevin declares with a smirk. Drinking straight from the bottle, the old warrior slumps in his chair and groans at a pop in his shoulder. “Now, I have a question for you that’s going to be awkward. This is as a father, so choose your words very carefully. Keep in mind that whatever mess you’re into just cost me one of my oldest friends. I also noticed the Luke and Sari weren’t included in whatever Dariana was doing during the funeral. I understand the gypsy not dropping whatever she is doing, but Selenia’s only nephew being absent makes me rather concerned. So, how much danger is my daughter in?”
Delvin claims the bottle of whiskey and takes a quick sip before picking up his chair. “It’s going to be a long story and won’t put your mind at ease. One thing I will say is that Nyx has the best chance of surviving what we’re involved in. She’s saved all of our lives countless times and I’m not sure she has any limits.”
“I appreciate all of that, but I want the details,” the cagey warrior replies, refusing to let the champion avoid the conversation. “Nyx being powerful and having no limits can make her a target. There’s no telling what your enemy will send after her. I’ve already heard stories about chaos elves, demons, and Weapon Dragons. Pretty sure there are more battles that haven’t been spread for one reason or another. Just be honest with me, Cunningham, because I don’t want to get over this loss and ignorantly stumble into another.”
Ritual of the Lost Lamb Page 16