by Lynn Hardy
Even a princess on this world is used as a broodmare. I’m glad our society has outgrown that. Or have they? Weren’t they advertising supermodel eggs for sale on the internet? I guess the desire is still the same; only the methods have changed.
I try to lighten the despondent mood shift. “Well, there are still a few months before you have to walk down that aisle. I bet we can get a lot of mileage out of your newfound freedom in the meantime.”
The princess smiles but still feels down.
Once again we travel through the servants’ quarters, exiting the castle into an overcast day. My nostrils are flooded with the pungent smell of char. My disposition darkens. Holding open the door for Rose, I sigh, struggling against a tide of guilt. I look for Jamison in the crammed foyer as we enter the infirmary. Tupper approaches as I fail to find my companion among the crowd.
“Your Highness, Archmage.” He bows to both of us before asking, “I assume you are here for the awakening?”
“Yes, among other things. If you will send someone for Jamison and arrange the new group of healers as we did before? I would like to be on my way as quickly as possible.”
“Of course.” The graying gentleman nods, going at once to fulfill my requests.
This time there are fourteen candidates who line up in three rows. The other fully gifted physicians stand against the walls, intent on observing. The awakening goes smoothly. One lone candidate possesses no affinity for healing. I report this to Tupper and Jamison as the new initiates begin to disperse.
Master Healer Laeknaen moves toward us with strides long and sure for an elder. A young woman accompanies him. With straight, black hair; ordinary features; and a hawkish nose that is too large for the rest of her face, she would be considered rather plain except for her brilliantly striking eyes. These astounding orbs are so dark, they appear as black as her hair.
Bowing, Laeknaen makes the introduction. “Archmage Reba, I take great pleasure in presenting to you my granddaughter, Alicia. She has had no formal training in the healing arts. For this reason she could not be presented with the other healers. But she has inherited my love of medicine. Alicia has studied with me since she was a small girl. If a woman could be recognized among our ranks, I would personally testify she is approaching a master level of training.” Alicia blushes at her grandfather’s praise.
I look to Tupper. “And will you confirm her knowledge and skills?” He assents and I continue. “Then I see no reason why I can’t perform another awakening if it is her wish and if you have no objections.” Receiving his approval, I add, “Tomorrow at midmorning bells, King Arturo and I will address the city to inform the populace of many changes: One of which deals with the place of women in times such as these.”
When Alicia repeats the healer’s oath, I perceive compassion, sympathy, and an iron core of dedication resounding from within. With great pleasure, I begin another awakening.
“Magic is within you; I feel its power.
We need its force in this desperate hour.
It’ll respond to you after my touch
Unless it will cause you harm or such.”
With a tap on her forehead, I send a tendril of magic into the center of her power. The boundary around the glowing sphere fades. The white mass pushes outward.
“Laeknaen, it looks like your granddaughter has the gift as well as the knowledge and the desire you have given her.” I grin at the girl’s abashed look.
He hugs his granddaughter, beaming at me over her shoulder. His eyes fill with tears. I cough, clearing the unexpected obstacle in my throat. “Jamison, how did the medallion work? Were you back to full strength this morning?”
“That medallion is awesome!” His enthusiasm overflows. “It worked like a charm.” We chuckle at the unintended pun. “Even though I didn’t get a lot of sleep, I am back coasting on the crest of the wave.”
I smile in return, but a sigh escapes when my perfect memory brings my to-do list to the forefront of my mind. “I have about a million things begging for my personal attention. If you’ve got some other things gathered for me to spell, I should get those taken care of and be on my way.”
“Do I have some things? You’re kidding, right? Have you taken a look?” He gestures to the table in the back as we move in that direction. “As soon as I mentioned that you’d be back to enchant anything fitting the description you gave me, I lost over half my staff. Anyone who didn’t have something suitable took off on a shopping spree.”
The table holds a multitude of objects; one end is cluttered with them. There are several types of chains with assorted pendants, rings, and even bracelets all laid out in tidy rows like a table at a swap meet.
“I should’ve guessed that everyone would jump at a chance for a free enchantment. Jamison, can I borrow that medallion of yours?”
“Sure.” He brings out the chain hidden beneath his shirt.
“Sight.” I check to see if any of the items are charmed. Clasping the chain with the medallion dangling at the end of it, I contemplate the fastest way to enchant all of the items before me. It takes moments to mentally change the lines of the much-used duplication spell.
“Those with a gift, you restore their power.
Lives have been saved in this dark hour.
Yet more work is there still to be done.
Although helpful, you are only one.
Touching another, no matter the substance,
They will share your properties in abundance.”
Giving a push from within, I lower the chain, tapping one item after another with the medallion. Cascading waves of energy rove through my body. The power’s caress of my inner being rejuvenates my humor. When the last item glows with a turquoise light, I close my eyes, sensing the power draw deep into the material. The objects are enchanted to the core.
“That should do it.” I hand the borrowed necklace back to Jamison. “Are you coming to breakfast in the morning?”
“I don’t see why not. We have less than fifty wounded left. Half of those will be back to the barracks tonight.” He winks at me knowingly. “Your day is getting better?”
I grin. “What can I say? Magic helps. Oh, by the way, we’ve been invited to dine at the king’s table tonight. We are to be presented to the nobility of Cuthburan.” My lips twist wryly as Jamison’s jaw drops. “You’d think with a war on, they’d have more important things to do than waste time with formalities.”
“I suppose following tradition is comforting.”
“Yeah, and we are stuck putting up with the tedium of it all. I’ll see you at evening bells for dinner.” Unable to resist a friendly jab, I add in our native tongue, “I’m sure the princess will appreciate an escort.” Jamison’s cheeks turn crimson. I burst out in full-throated laughter. Ah, it feels good to have something to laugh at.
“Go ahead, laugh it up.” Jamison elbows me, his voice filled with mock foreboding. “A riptide is waiting for you at the next beach.” He blushes a little more as Rose approaches. “So dinner tonight it is,” he adds in Cuthburish.
“If you can’t find the way, I’m sure Rose will be able to aid you.” To my surprise, Rose blushes as she nods her approval. A silly smile plasters itself on my face. “Let me take care of those wineskins. Then I really have to be going.”
“Will you be free for lunch again tomorrow?” Rose asks.
“Will midafternoon bells be too late?”
“Midafternoon bells it is.” Rose flashes a grin of appreciation.
Chapter Twelve
Instead of taking the pathway through the barracks, I cut behind the buildings. I march on around the side of the castle, stretching out my legs for long, quick strides. I block everything out, zooming in on the needed modifications of the force field. It takes only a few minutes to complete the lines of poetry that will give the desired results. I refocus on the world around me. Glancing over my shoulder, I am surprised to see the military barracks are so far behind. I have nearly marched past the palace.
Off to my left are the practice grounds. Rows of soldiers are going through drills with five-foot pikes.
Curious about the exercises, I put up the hood on my robe to conceal my telling locks. As if this shining silver beacon of a robe isn’t a dead giveaway. Edging closer, I make my way to the far side of the exercise field.
Charles, Allinon, Szames, and Arms Master Stezen are engrossed in conversation, huddled up like a football team before a kickoff. Allinon looks up, waving me over to join the discussion.
“Archmage Reba! What a pleasant surprise.” Szames’s polite recognition is mannerly, but I still fail to sense anything from him. “I am almost through here if you are ready to proceed with the modifications to the shield.”
“I am, but there’s no rush.” At lunch I was feeling like an Amazon. Now, surrounded by these big guys, I feel tiny. I suppose Stezen must feel the same; the other men tower over him by at least six inches.
The arms master’s broad shoulders and large hands speak of power, and although those he is with make him seem lacking in height, he is not a small man. He is nondescript: average features with brown eyes and brown hair, some gray at the temples and scattered in the well-manicured beard.
“Stezen, if you will round up the candidates for the new training detail then notify the officers of the new program?” He phrases his request with courtesy, but the tone implies a direct order from someone who wears the mantle of command with ease. “If there are questions, they will have to wait until after dinner. Furthermore, I expect my orders to be followed to the letter. The consequences will be dire for those who choose to ignore these changes.”
“Your Highness, should I have the papers drawn up for your signature?”
“I am afraid there is no time for the usual procedures. You will deliver my orders verbatim, exactly as I have stated them. Please take note of anyone choosing not to follow them. Have a list on my desk by this evening.”
Stezen’s brow draws down fractionally. I discern an internal upheaval that would register an eight on a Richter scale. But still, he nods stoically.
“I trust you to take care of any details I have forgotten as well. Please choose an assistant, two if necessary, to complete the tasks you have been assigned.” Szames’s dismissal declares finality on the subject. Stezen bobs his head again before gesturing for Charles and Allinon to precede him. Szames stares after the trio, unpretentious confidence chiseled into every line of the princely face.
“Reba, if you are ready to proceed with the shield modifications?” When I incline my head, he continues. “Shall I send for the horses to be readied?”
“Actually, I thought we’d fly.” I exude nonchalance.
“Why do I get the feeling you mean that literally?” The arch of one brow hints at his astonishment.
“Of course.” My lips curve innocently. I try not to laugh at Szames’s physical effort to close his mouth. “If you’re afraid of heights, we can ride, but it will be much quicker and more magically economical to fly up to the center of the shield.”
“I have no problem with heights, Milady Reba. Your suggestion sounds like an experience that will forever retain a height of glory in the remembrance of my life, which until moments ago, I believed could get no more memorable.” Szames bobs his head as if conceding victory to a challenger. “What must we do?”
“If you will take my hand while I set the spell, it will be as before.” I recall the flying spell I constructed the night before I was taken from my world. I close my eyes, concentrating on joining our powers, drawing more from him than I have previously, so my power acts to guide the flow of his force. Opening my eyes, I begin:
“Christopher Reeve starred on the big screen,
Battling with the bad guys who were so mean.
He was able to fly like a bird and a plane,
He even flew with a woman, Lois Lane.
Like he did with her one night,
Take my hand, share in the flight.
By saying his name, fly like him I can.
All I must say is the name ‘Superman.’”
A tingling sensation spreads throughout my body. With the completion of the last line, a heated rush akin to an orgasmic climax envelopes me from head to toe. A sigh escapes my parted lips as I relish every second of the magic’s caress. Being able to heal the damage has quickly built up my tolerance. With each spell, I’m able to use more power without being affected.
“Szames, are you ready for your first flight?”
“I am.”
“You must keep hold of my hand.” I give a final warning. “That is what enables you to fly at my side. Without the connection you won’t stay aloft.” Taking a deep breath, I whisper, “Superman,” in my native tongue.
I concentrate first on the ground, picturing myself easing away from it. Our feet leave the earth. We soar up. This is so, so cool! And my fear of heights has disappeared. Szames’s grip on my hand tightens.
Threading our fingers, I move my elbow to the inside of his arm to secure our connection. I perceive a stab of desire from Szames that is so sudden, it causes me to lose my focus, momentarily pausing our ascent. Before I can pinpoint what exactly is causing the stimulation, the emotion disappears.
Unexpectedly, being this close to another man still makes me feel like a girl at her first dance. Blushing, I change my focus to the world around me, using the castle as a direction-finder for our mobility. It’s not like I can let a prince fall to his death because I’m disconcerted by someone invading my physical space. The rationale makes me feel a little better, but I still can’t help noticing the overwhelming size of his hand. It is so large and so strong, and his arm—rock hard, solid, secure.
Like a meteor blazing to life in the middle of the clear blue surrounding us, I feel a surge of excitement from Szames that I am sure has nothing to do with flying. Again, the sensation evaporates like fog on a sunny morning, as if it were a figment of my imagination.
Besides, like every other jock, he’s all brawn and no brains with an overactive libido, an expanded ego, and all the sensitivity and compassion of a rock. Definitely not anything I’d be interested in, even if I weren’t already married!
The midafternoon bells toll in the distance as I hammer a steely determination of purpose into place. I take down my hood and whisper, “Sight.” Looking at the shield above me, I get another surge of interest from my companion that is, like the last one, snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane.
At least he’s attempting to show some control. Or is he covering hidden desires along with the rest of his feelings? Confident in my flight, I increase our speed. Closing in on the thickening of the mage energies indicated in the center of the force field where the magic merges, I smile in anticipation.
Keeping us in place takes a brief thought before I turn to my companion. “Are you okay?” Szames gives me a little boyish grin. My heart softens. “We need to bring our joined hands over our heads to reach the focal point.”
He follows my lead. Since we are standing perpendicular to the ground instead of flying in a more horizontal Superman fashion, our upraised hands make contact with the center of the force field. I focus on the lines of rhyme I explored earlier today. Drawing a capacious amount of energy from my partner, I direct it to pool around our hands. Taking a deep breath, I begin.
“You worked hard throughout the night,
Keeping out our enemy, stopping the fight.
But our foes are very determined to win.
They used objects to penetrate your skin.
Modifications are a definite must.
Let in nothing that you don’t trust.
Only things of nature will come through you,
Sunlight, moonlight, wind, rain, and snow too.
Anything else an enemy will be,
Treated as such from you and me.
Other objects falling from the sky
Will vaporize before our eyes.”
I grunt with the effort of pulling the final surg
e of power through the bond, keeping a firm visualization of what I expect from the magic. My back arches. I throw back my head as power explodes inside me. I use every ounce of my will to keep us aloft while pleasure courses through me. On the heels of pleasure is pain so fierce, my eyes begin to water. I blink rapidly to contain the moisture as the damage is healed in seconds.
The sapphire energy I have stored over our heads streaks out across the shield, disappearing at the outer walls. Spots clear from my eyes. The shield is a darker blue now, more of a true blue instead of the baby blue it was when we began.
“Well, that should do it.” A lazy smile falls from my lips as I recall the reason for this procedure. “But in case I missed anything, please, wake me tonight. As you see, it takes a moment to adjust the shield.”
“I will leave instructions; it shall be so.” His tone is serious, but the smile still hasn’t left his face.
A breeze coming from the east brings a disturbing odor. Smoky, yes, but there is something odd about it. Realizing it must be the remnants of the fire prompts me to speak, “Szames, do you know where the demons struck last night?”
“Over in the northeast quarter, I believe.” He points straight ahead.
“Would you mind if we have a look?”
“Not at all.” The massive mountain of a man shrugs.
I tilt us so we lie horizontal to the ground. In true Superman form with our hands still outstretched, I take us behind the castle and off to the right. Approaching the wall, my nose wrinkles as the char smell intensifies. Szames points farther to the right. I veer in that direction.
This is the slum portion of town I noticed yesterday with the tannery. Still, the remains of the fire can be distinguished over the rankness of the rest of the section. Our vantage point allows a clear view of last night’s destruction.
One of the buildings is reduced to a pile of blackened rubble. A few tall support beams are all that remain, a testimony to a building that would have been one of the few two-story structures in this part of town. The other is, or was, a one-story building. A single wall is still mostly intact. I circle around, trying to picture what kind of people made this building a home. Figures move around inside the rubble, as if looking for something amid the debris.