Terk nodded. “I know many who would like to get back at the Makkurans, and other traders will help too.”
“All right, this is what I need from you,” Coran said directly to Terk. “Find out everything you can about the harbor; if there are men stationed on the ships, where any guards are located, things like that. Also, I need a description of the bluff and the location of the wizard.”
Terk nodded at each request. “Anything else?”
He thought for a moment. “We will need boats to use in the harbor and a place to launch them without being seen.”
“The outer pier is too rotted for large ships to use. We could go from there.”
“Good. I also need you to find me some archers.”
“Archers?” he asked curiously. “I should be able to do that. What do you have in mind?”
“We are going to do something about that fleet,” he informed them. He just had a few details to work out. He also needed the information to know if it would work.
Elthzidor was pleased with the progress so far. Nearly eighty thousand Karands were gathered and would soon be moving west. They were poorly equipped and trained, but they provided him with numbers. The rest of his army, Midalians, some Davyrians, and Karians came with him from across the sea. The core of his army was his Makkurans. His men would almost be a match for the Midians. It didn’t matter too much though. The important part was to the south where the fleet was nearly complete. With Summerhall in his hands he couldn’t lose. He would prove he was worthy to be named Ra Majin.
That wasn’t the real reason for his pleasure, not today. The news sent by Naras was very hopeful. Summerhall believed the boy to be dead. If it was true then there would be no one to stop him. His victory would be assured. That there was no news of Maji Jeshon, the one sent to kill the boy, was troubling. Even more troubling was the loss of the Orgog. If the boy was alone, how was he able to kill it? Even with help it should have proven extremely difficult. Add a Maji and the result should have been clear. He wished he knew what had happened. The only explanation he could come up with was that Jeshon had been careless and gotten himself killed; then the Orgog must have reverted to his viscous ways and started killing everyone it could find. It could have been killed eventually.
He had to admit that the Orgog had their uses. They were smarter than they looked, enough to carry out instructions, like delivering messages. The only down side to them was that they needed to be kept under constant control. Left to themselves they sometimes went into a bloodlust, where they killed anyone, or anything around. He never thought one man could kill one of them without using the power.
He supposed that it was irrelevant now. Soon he would leave for Lornth and then on to Summerhall.
Chapter 20
To the Wizard
Katelyn listened as Master Herrith explained yet another paper he set on the council table in front of them. She wished that Margery was here, but her sister was spending as much time with Rob as she could. King Robert had gone back to Westland the day after Sun Day, the day after the announcement of his son’s engagement. Rob stayed as a representative of Westland in case any news came. They all knew he was really there so he could do exactly what he was doing, spend time with Margery. She was happy for her sister, and a little jealous. No matter how much she believed that Coran was still alive it didn’t help with the feeling of loneliness that was growing inside her.
“As you can see, revenues are down from the lack of Eastern imports.” The mostly bald Herrith shuffled through the stack he had placed on the table before him. She thought he had a few less hairs every time she saw him. “We shouldn’t have any financial problems in the near future, but I fear what will happen to the economy if it goes on for too long.” He handed another paper to the King. She had to lean over to look at it along with her father. “These are my projections for the next few months.”
They were mostly lists of numbers. Numbers of what income was expected against probable expenses. Herrith had even taken into account increased costs for an enlarged guard. Another paper was placed on top of the first. “This is a list briefly showing the effect on the other kingdoms.” He waited while they perused the paper.
Katelyn looked casually at the sheet until something caught her eye. “What is this?” She pointed to a particular spot.
Herrith nodded as if he had been expecting someone to notice it. “The expected income for Voltia is somewhat better off than the others. I did some checking and it seems that a state sponsored trader made a very large purchase of silks and spices only found in eastern Daes Shael just before the closing of trade routes and ports. At an inflated rate, relative to the demand, Voltia will actually have increased profits for a time.”
“They knew,” Stemis stated with a growing anger. “Someone in Voltia knew what was going to happen.”
“Someone high up it seems,” she added, “if the trader was connected to the government.” She was not completely surprised. Not when it involved Voltians. “Of course, all this means is that someone got wind of the cutting of trade, that does not mean they knew why.”
“True,” Herrith bobbed his head in agreement, “a bit unscrupulous, but not necessarily treasonous.”
“Maybe,” Stemis conceded. “It is worth looking into further if we get the time.”
“I will make some more inquiries. If there is nothing further?” Herrith gathered up his papers and stood in preparation to leave. Stemis nodded and the old chamberlain left them.
Stemis rubbed his forehead and wiped his hand down his face. He was losing weight and nothing her mother did seemed to help. “How is the increase in the guards progressing?”
That was her newest task. She had to keep track of the number of men recruited and the progression of their training. She had to meet with Loras every few days to get updates. Loras had been avoiding her since their return. Stemis had spoken to him about his attitude and threatened demotion if the problem continued. “Another five hundred have been inducted into the guards and two hundred more are in their initial training. We hope to increase the guard’s size by a total of two thousand by winter.”
“I was hoping for more. We need to be ready for anything by spring.”
“We will be. I only hope we have that long.”
“We can hope.” Stemis made it sound a fervent wish. She stood. “I am leaving. Do you need me to get you anything? Something to eat? You should be eating more.”
He shook his head. “No, nothing,” he smiled weakly, “maybe later.”
“All right.” She left her father to brood by himself.
Out in the hall she stopped as she noticed a broad shouldered young man with blonde hair that almost reached his shoulders. A white shirt showing the spreading tree of Anders covered most of the chain mail armor he wore.
“Devon!” She hurried over to greet him and threw her arms around him. “I am so glad you are here.” It felt as if a little bit of the loneliness went away in seeing him again.
“So am I.” He returned the hug. “I would have been here sooner but my father is building up the guard and I had to be there.” They stepped apart. “I got your letter.” He didn’t elaborate and she knew how he felt.
“Come with me.” She took hold of his arm and led him away from the study.
They were almost to the wing of the royal family when she noticed the large tapestry that covered one side of the hall. She had seen it so many times that it didn’t even register anymore. She slowed and finally stopped directly in front of it. It depicted a fortress of dark stone in a green valley. Mountains rose up around and behind it. The peaks were capped in snow and evergreens were visible on the nearer slopes. The sky was a hazy blue with misty clouds. It was a depiction of Tyelin.
She felt Devon patting her hand in sympathy. She tried to give a reassuring smile but failed miserably. They continued on and she thought about having the tapestry moved to her quarters.
They encountered Alys outside her door. The girl’
s long brown hair framed an innocent and pretty face. Her pale green dress was unadorned. She appeared glad to see them.
“Devon,” she said in greeting.
“My lady,” he inclined his head to her.
She glanced toward Katelyn. “Your sister sent me to see if you were done with your father. She is in the sitting room.”
“We were already on our way there,” she informed her friend. “You are going to join us?”
“Of course,” she said, sounding happy to be included.
Margery and Rob sat together on the couch that was meant for two. The round table in the center of the room held glasses and a pitcher of wine. Margery jumped up at the sight of Devon, crossed the room and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. After a quick hug she sat back down and took Rob’s hand. The Prince of Westland and his bride to be exchanged a look full of love. Katelyn wondered if she had ever appeared as love sick over Coran as her sister did right now. Devon motioned for her and Alys to take the empty chairs.
“Congratulations,” he told the pair.
“Thank you,” they replied together. Margery’s smile faded. “Are you all right?”
Everyone knew to what she was referring. “I wanted to ask Katelyn about something if nobody minds?” he asked carefully. It was a difficult subject. No one objected so he went on. “You said in your letter that you don’t think he is dead. Why?”
She took a deep breath before trying to put it into words. “I can’t really describe it. It just feels like, like I would know if he was gone. Does that make any sense?” she asked, looking at Devon.
Devon stood there thinking. Then he nodded. “I can accept that.”
Katelyn felt relief at his acceptance. Finally there was someone who believed her.
“Do you really believe her?” Margery asked with incredulity.
“Yes, I do. I did before I asked her.” Then he did the one thing no one expected. He laughed. “I will believe Coran is dead when I see the body, and then sit vigil over him to be sure he isn’t faking, and nothing is going to change that.” They remained silent. Devon continued to chuckle as he poured himself a glass of the dark red wine. “I remember last summer when he and I went to the boundary lands. Oh, what fun that was.”
That helped to lighten the mood. “He didn’t tell us about that,” Margery said suspiciously, but with the hint of a smile.
“No he did not,” Katelyn agreed. “Go on and tell us about it.”
He was looking down at his glass. “Well maybe I shouldn’t.”
“Devon!” the sisters said together, and in the same reproachful tone.
Devon managed a rueful grin. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Not me, anyway.” He took a drink of the wine. “Well, there were these Northmen looking for a fight.” He looked around defensively as if they wouldn’t believe him. “They really were asking for it. You know Coran and his temper at times. It wasn’t his fault it turned into a full blown brawl. The town watch who broke it up said so too. And nothing happened between Coran and the serving wench, nothing serious. She was the one who threw herself at him.”
“Wench?” Katelyn asked dangerously.
“Sorry, barmaid then,” he corrected. “They are the same thing though.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” She knew he had blurted it all out to make it sound the worst it possibly could just to rile her. Devon nodded. “Well, it was last summer and I went to Tyelin....”
Katelyn listened as Devon told the story. It was a nice break from dealing with reports, her father, and the reality of Coran’s fate, whatever that may be.
It was some time later, after Rob told some stories of his own, that the Westland Prince rose with his bride to be and decided to go for another walk. Katelyn knew that the two of them wanted to be alone. That left Alys, Devon, and Katelyn in the room. There was something that she had to ask.
“Devon, did you mean what you said, about believing that Coran is alive?”
“I believe that you believe.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He frowned into his empty glass and leaned down to set it on the table. “I think that if anyone can be certain of Coran’s fate it would be you.” That didn’t help much and he seemed to know it. “You two have something special, a special bond. That was why I asked you how you knew.”
“Do you mean like the stories?” Alys asked. “The ones about how Arya and Soros always knew that the other was well?”
“Those are just that, stories,” Katelyn scoffed. “There is nothing in the histories that mentions it.” They were both watching her thoughtfully. “Do you think I have some sort of talent like a healer or a wizard?” She smiled at that, but they still watched.
“Coran once told me that Gelarus said he might have potential,” Devon said and shrugged. “Maybe that is where your feeling comes from.”
“Why do you not see Gelarus and ask him?” suggested Alys.
“I suppose we could, but I do not think that is it,” Katelyn told them, then frowned. “I haven’t seen the wizard since we found out about Coran.”
“We can go to the tower,” Devon suggested. “He is probably there doing whatever it is wizards do.”
“I suppose we can try,” Katelyn agreed. If Gelarus could give her some answers then it might be worth seeing him. Part of her was afraid of what he might tell them.
They passed the practice yard where Hormil could be heard instructing some of the newly recruited guards with his usual boisterousness.
The high round tower loomed ahead where two sides of the palace met. They entered through the open door into the first level where there were slits in the outside walls for archers to shoot out of in case of attack. As far as she knew, Summerhall had never been attacked in all the time since its founding. They followed the curving stairs up past a second level with more arrow slits. Eventually they came to a closed iron bound door. The top two levels were where Gelarus lived.
Devon reached out to open the door.
“Shouldn’t we knock first?” Katelyn questioned. No one went into the wizard’s enclave without some trepidation.
“He won’t mind.” He gave her one of his mischievous grins. “And I am too big to switch.”
That was what had happened the last time they came up here. Coran and Devon had dragged a protesting Margery up here to sneak a look at the wizard’s home. Katelyn was told to stay behind, but she tagged along anyway. She was only ten at the time and not entirely old enough to be part of the group yet. That came later. Gelarus caught them and the boys had been switched for being where they were not invited. Margery and she had had a stern talking to by their father, but avoided a switching. Probably, because they were girls.
The round room beyond the door contained tables with glass bottles, and shelves attached to the walls with more bottles and jars. Several of the bottles held liquids of various colors. There was also a bookcase just to the right of the door, full of old looking volumes. At the far side of the room another set of stairs went up to the top level where Gelarus had his bed chamber. At least she assumed that was what was up there. None of them had ever made it that far without getting caught. She began to wonder how much they really knew about the man.
They entered the room cautiously, looking about for the wizard of Summerhall. From behind one of the tables Gelarus stood up abruptly. He fixed them with a penetrating gaze before his features relaxed. “It is only you,” he dismissed their unannounced appearance. “What do you want?” He busied himself with something she couldn’t see on the table, bottles and stacked papers blocked her vision. He had always appeared old with his white hair and wrinkles, yet there was a strength about him, a sense of his power. Now he seemed frailer somehow.
“We were wondering...well...” she didn’t know how to start. If he thought she was talking nonsense he might not tell them anything.
“We want to know if you think Coran is dead?” Devon said getting the conve
rsation started.
“Does it matter what I think? If he is dead then we all are, and sooner than later,” he replied in his usual fashion, never giving a straight answer and what he did say came without explanation. She was surprised to hear him speak so despairingly, it was not like him.
“What do you mean we are all dead?” asked Devon.
Gelarus cocked his head to one side and peered at Katelyn, ignoring Devon completely. “Do you think he is dead?”
“No,” she answered decisively.
He was surprised by the surety in her voice and looked down in thought. “Why did I not think of that? But is it truth or desire?” He spoke low as if to himself. When he looked back up some of the fire was back in his eyes. “Tell me how you know.”
“I just do. It is hard to explain, but when I think of him...gone, something inside me says he is not.” She finished and waited for the same patronizing looks she got from her father and sister when she told them. They couldn’t believe, or wouldn’t.
When he spoke there was no hint of mockery or disbelief. “Are you completely sure that he is still alive?”
“Yes, I think.” She shook her head trying to understand what she was feeling. “It is so hard to explain that I can’t really describe it as a certainty.”
“You are unfamiliar with it. It could be that.”
“Is it..?” Alys started and stopped when the wizard’s gaze was directed on her. She swallowed and went on when he didn’t say anything. “Is it like the stories? You know, the ones about Soros?”
Gelarus answered slowly. “Like the stories? Maybe.”
“Are the stories real?” Alys asked.
The wizard barked a laugh. “How would I know? Do I look a thousand years old to you?”
Alys blushed with embarrassment. It was Devon who couldn’t resist answering. “No. I would say you don’t look a day over eight hundred.”
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