by Lynn Hardy
“Milady Reba, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. Perhaps you will have time for tea on the morrow?” Queen Szacquelyn invites in a voice that is low pitched yet still quite feminine.
“I would be delighted, Your Majesty.” I return her smile as the midmorning bells toll in the distance.
“We believe it is time to begin the address. Ladies, if you will follow us.” King Arturo indicates the guard’s station.
The nobles form an aisle for their monarchs. I turn to Szames, who is standing off to one side, a smile lighting up his sparkling eyes. “Your Highness, if you have a moment after the ceremony? Another shield modification is in order.” If I keep close to him, maybe I can avoid his brother. I really don’t need any more stress right now.
“Milady Reba, I would be delighted.” He bows, a somberness in his response at odds with the serene smile gracing his lips as if I asked for the keys to the kingdom and he is unable to refuse.
With everyone waiting on me, I fall in behind the monarchs, hoping Szames will volunteer as my escort. Prince Alexandros steps close, holding out his arm. With the slightest of bows, he indicates his wish to fulfill the role. Placing my hand on his, I nod to show my consent. God bless! Just what I don’t need. Okay, calm down. He’s just a guy, nothing special. Please, please, please, don’t speak to me.
“Milady Reba, you look radiant this morning. Do you find your chambers satisfactory?” Prince Alexandros interrupts my skittering thoughts.
“Very, Your Highness.” I keep my reply brief, hoping to end the conversation as we enter the guard station.
“If there is any way I can aid your efforts to prepare for the upcoming battle with the demons, I would be honored to assist you.” Why do I sense jealousy?
I whisper, “Sight.” His aura is much stronger, almost back to normal. He doesn’t have enough energy to even consider mage training, but there is enough that he could help a little. That’s more to store tonight, right?
“Do you know if the irreparable armor has been gathered as requested?” I query.
“It has. It waits by the northern side of the training grounds.” His voice holds a note of curiosity.
“I will be handling those soon. Your Highness, if you have an opening in your schedule, I could use your assistance in the preparation.” I regret the extended invitation as trepidation washes through him. Perhaps he has his father’s dislike for the arcane?
“I would know no greater pleasure, milady.” The lie slips effortlessly from Prince Alexandros as he gives a heart-melting smile.
Though I perceive the dishonesty of his words, my knees weaken as I gaze up into his eyes. I yank my thoughts back to where my feet are traveling and avoid stumbling over the bottom step by a hair’s breadth. I move quickly to take the lead on the stairway, aiming to put some distance between us.
At least the distraction he provides is good for something: I am no longer anxious about giving this speech. I’m too worried about holding on to my marriage vows! How does this man do it?
I turn another corner on the stairway. A lit doorway appears. Stepping out onto the walkway and squinting until my eyes adjust, I hear the rustling throng below. Thanks to the parapet, I can barely see the farthest fringe of the waiting audience. The prince immerges, once again taking a position beside me.
Alexandros extends one perfectly manicured hand, gently brushing my cheek as he tucks in a stray lock of my hair caught by the breeze. Looking up to my escort, the words on the tip of my tongue disappear, swallowed beyond recovery. My vision is narrowed to a gorgeous pair of emerald eyes and lips more sensual than any I can recall. My body heats. My pulse quickens as desire to fall into his arms consumes me. I have… got… to… get… a grip! I exert my will, and some of the fire eases in my loins. Who in the blazes is this guy to have me quivering like an oversexed groupie with no more than a brush of his hand?
“Archmage Reba, I present to you Archbishop Prestur.” Szames ushers a balding, gray-haired elder toward us.
“Your Grace, it is an honor.” I bow. Thank God for small favors!
The archbishop nods his head in recognition of the homage I have paid him. “The honor is mine. I have often prayed that your arrival would occur within my lifetime. Perhaps when you have a moment, you will visit me at the holy sanctuary Saint Fabrotinn’s Cathedral?” Even though his invitation is formed as a polite request, I am determined to comply as quickly as possible. Intuition? Or is it malicious manipulation?
I know God is still with me, even here. I refuse to fear a pagan imposter. “I would love to. Will this evening be convenient?”
“Simply ask for me when you arrive.” The archbishop smiles warmly.
Szames and Prestur move off to either side of King Arturo. I notice the rest of the entourage has lined up along the far side of the walkway. Meeting the king’s inquiring gaze, I give a firm nod, indicating my readiness. Trumpets blare. He steps up on the wooden platform, turning toward the crowd to begin his speech.
“Our loyal subjects, we come before you with wondrous news,” King Arturo’s voice rings out. “You may have heard rumors that the time of the Great Change has come. We, your king, declare this is true: for behold, our son Prince Alexandros, who lay mortally wounded two nights ago, is returned to full health.” With these words, Alexandros steps forward. Shouts of elation arise. Arturo holds his hands up for silence.
“Two days ago, Chief Adviser Merithin summoned from across the planes a group of warriors led by a mage. This mage is more powerful than any magic-user in the history of Cuthburan.” The masses, on the verge of becoming a mob, stir at this pronouncement.
“This archmage brings change that will allow us to triumph over the demons threatening our gates.” The restlessness continues, but the king pays no heed. With a half turn in my direction, he holds out his hand, introducing Cuthburan’s newest arrivals. Clever… never referring to my sex. I wonder if it is for shock value or to prevent a revolt?
“But judge for yourselves the validity of the rumors. Here to address you is Archmage Reba and the Crusaders of the Light.” With his final pronouncement, he and Alex step back, making room for my companions and me between them.
A calm encompasses me so completely, one would think I have been giving speeches as often as a presidential candidate. I step forward. In one fluid motion, I am up on the platform before the parapet, removing my concealing hood.
Absolute silence enfolds the crowd, as if my cowl were a death shroud enveloping them. I open my senses, absorbing the emotions of the throng before me, sharing the crowd’s astonishment at my appearance. I fill my lungs. The rasping sound of the inhalation echoes in my ears.
“People of Cuthburan, we have come a vast distance—from beyond the stars above—to aid you in the upcoming battle. But the five of us alone are not enough to win this war.” I pause to let the meaning of my words sink in. Fear begins to rise. I qualify my statement. “It will take the combined efforts of every man, woman, and youth for us to achieve victory over our enemies.” The populace stirs with unease. “Yes, you heard me right. I said men, women, and youths.”
“This is no ordinary war we are waging. The foes we face do not wish to be the new rulers of this nation. This is a fight for the very lives of every person in this city. Nay, not only in this city, or even in this kingdom, but a fight for every human life in this world. These demons do not wish to rule us, but to destroy us!” I pause as gasps arise from truly frightened people.
“I have been brought here to keep you safe. But no one individual can break the tide of evil threatening our race. So with me, I bring the greatest tool at my disposal: change. Things I ask of you—each and every one of you—are going to sound odd, perhaps even unthinkable, but I, Archmage Reba, guarantee if you do as I request, no matter how it goes against tradition or propriety, I guarantee we will be victorious! People of Cuthburan, will you follow me to victory?”
After the last word, voiced in a triumphant shout, I pause. The multitudes
before me begin to chant my name. The feelings of faith, hope, self-importance, determination, and awe fuel an overwhelming high more earth shattering than any drug. Detaching my emotions from them, I begin my requests.
“Any man, woman, or youth who has any skill or knowledge of herbs or medicine, please report to the Healers’ Consortium when this gathering is concluded. I have brought with me a new kind of magic, a healing magic. Any who come will be tested, and if you desire it, the magic inside you will be set free. Instruction on its use will be given. I intend for this war to claim as few lives as possible. With your help, that will be accomplished.” I ease the emotional shield down. Agreement, hope, and awe.
“Any woodsmen or farmer taking refuge from the demons, your help is also needed. I will not have us win this war to be defeated by famine. One of my men possesses a type of earth magic that will enable you to speed the growth of plant life, strengthening the land once the battle has been won. If you desire to help in the recovery of the fields and forest, please report to the guards.”
“We still have the battle, the Great Battle, to win. For that reason, I ask any man, woman, or youth who has any skill with a sword, a bow, or knives and is willing to fight for your kingdom, report to the front gates.” A whispering ensues. Stepping up onto the lower rung of the parapet, I raise my voice.
“Yes, I said women! Any hand courageous enough, with any amount of skill, is needed if we are going to turn aside the horde gathering outside our gates.” Slight fear mixes with hope and awe along with a newly forged determination.
“If you do not fit into any of these categories, do not fear. You still have an important role to play in the waging of this war, for much is needed.” Their attention is focused on me once more, as if I were Elvis at the height of his career.
“We have a proverb in my kingdom: united we stand; divided we fall. It is united, as one, that we will overcome the darkness. For they as individuals are much stronger than we. But together, joined as one, there is nothing we cannot overcome.” A little more fear, and a lot more determination transfuses the populace.
“It is for this reason, even though you will be compensated for any materials donated to the war, I ask you to freely give your time and your skills to the kingdom.” Shock, awe, disbelief. “Yes, you will be justly compensated for any materials you donate to the cause. You will be given a token. After we win this war, King Arturo will provide compensation for your aid.” Holding up my hands for silence, I continue.
“We need the services of cloth merchants and seamstresses. We need two hundred poles, five inches in diameter and thirty feet long. We need animals for slaughter and butchers to attend to them. We also need fruit, grain, and other staples as well as bakers willing to use these items. We need volunteers to travel to the river and bring back wagonloads of sand.” Terror seeps into the crowd like a wave coming ashore at high tide. I hasten to make an addition. “Do not fear the demons. Two of my men, Allinon the druid elf and Jerik the dwarf, will secure the location, clearing if of demons, before you begin. You will be safe as long as you are within these walls at dusk. For peace of mind, an armed guard will be provided for the brave men who volunteer to gather what we need.” The panic abates. A renewed sense of hope and determination settles over the people of Cuthburan. I think they’re realizing their safety has been considered.
“In parting I ask but one thing more. Put aside any differences or disputes you have with your neighbor. Now is the time to unite.”
I pause, whispering the name of the Man of Steel, “Superman.” Stepping off the edge of the parapet, I drift downward. My descent halts when I am several feet above the closest heads. In a kneeling position, stretching out my hands, I beseech the people before me. “Most of all, be kind to one another. Our compassion is what makes us human. And is it not humanity for which we are fighting?”
With the gathered throng cheering wildly, I float back over the wall, landing on the walkway beyond the crowd’s sight. The outpouring of emotion is so strong, it threatens to overwhelm me, destroying my self-control. I snap a mental barrier into place. The waves of adoration projected from the throngs of people are blocked.
The silence of not perceiving any outside emotions for the first time since my arrival has a calming effect on my spirit. The emotional lull eases reality back into focus. Ardent highs like this might prove addicting.
“Well said, Archmage Reba, well said.” King Arturo nods as he and the queen pass on their way to the staircase.
I bow my head in acceptance of his praise. I search for Prince Szames, intent on escaping as quickly as possible. The Crusaders find me first. Jamison gives my shoulder a warm. Charles gives me a wink and a nod. Allinon scowls. “With the list of things we have to do, you volunteer us for a recon at the river?”
“I’m sorry but they were panicking. I need that sand.” I turn to the dwarf at his side. “Jerik, I know you really don’t have time either, but you should be there and back in a mark or less. With your telepathy, you can call me if you run into a problem you two can’t handle.”
Jerik shrugs. “Seems like a necessary precaution.”
Allinon shoots me another dirty look. Spotting Szames standing with his brother, I extricate myself from the situation by making a beeline for them.
“Your Highness, if you’re ready, I’d like to leave for the shield modification.” When he bobs his head, I turn to address his brother. “Your Highness, is now a convenient time to meet you at the training grounds?”
“I am at your service, Milady Reba.” He smiles. Is he still nervous about helping me? I don’t dare release my empathy shield until I get some distance from all that emotion ebbing from the dispersing crowd.
“Thank you, Your Highness. I will meet you there once I’ve finished the adjustments to the shield.”
When I look to Szames, he nods firmly. I take his hand and lift us from the ground. We are a few hundred feet away from the multitudes descending on the front gates before I release the shield around my emotions. I feel a sense of awe; this time it is coming from Szames. Horrified at the change in the stoic warrior, I pause in mid flight.
“So what did you think of the speech?” What else could have such an effect on him? After all, we’ve flown before.
“Honestly?” He continues as I bob my head. “Alexandros, it is said, has the strongest gift of oration since King Sheldon, the first of the great monarchs of our line. Being his brother, a prince of the kingdom, and the general of the forces of Cuthburan, I have been to every speech he has delivered. I can unequivocally say, Reba, I have never seen the equal to the performance you have given. When you spoke to the audience, you seemed to become one with them, or maybe the driving force behind them. It was an amazing sight to behold.” The honesty ringing from his compliment is unsettling.
Blushing before his praise, it is shame coloring my complexion, not pride. Unable to perpetuate the falsehood, I ask, “Szames, as a friend, can I take you into my confidence?”
“If it is your wish, all that you reveal to me I will take to my grave.” His vow is as solemn a pledge as the fealty I gave him.
I wonder briefly if the course of action I have chosen is wise. I shake the thought from me, muttering, “If we are to have an honest friendship, I cannot mislead you. I don’t deserve your praise. I cheated when I addressed your people.” I pause. How much do I tell him?
“Cheated? How?” My keen ears pick up Szames’s mumbling, “Did she weave a magic spell with her words to capture the hearts of all who listened?” I feel some of his awe dissipate as his mind puts reason to the sight he has witnessed. Then in a blink, I feel nothing at all from him.
“Not exactly a spell… but magic of a kind was involved.” We hover right below the center of the force field. Szames gives me a quizzical look. Of course you can’t be satisfied with that, can you?
“I can’t reveal the exact nature of this magic, not here. My dining room is secure. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until tonigh
t to find out more,” I say, although I hope he will forget about the matter by then.
“A wise precaution. You give me one more reason to look forward to the coming of night, when a few days ago it was night we dreaded.” The spark in his eyes and the troubled look behind them tell of an internal battle at which I can but guess.
“Are you ready to begin?” When he nods, I concentrate on pooling the energy above our heads.
“Perfect in form and function you’ve been,
So now I enlarge the size of your skin.”
The rush of pleasure coursing through me as the magic melts into the shield is a fraction less exhilarating than the earlier emotional high. I grin as my head fails to register even a minor twinge. Swooping down toward the practice grounds, I hint at the modifications we have made.
“The demons will take no more lives from us tonight. If you’ll bring your twenty best archers to my dining chambers and come half a mark earlier, I’ll clarify the purpose of the work we have completed.” Will he let me get away with one more secret?
“I will now count the marks in anticipation of hearing the bells sound so I may see you again.” Szames’s smile is meant to be debonair, but it doesn’t quite make it. He merely succeeds in looking like a mischievous boy, and he barely escapes looking goofy.
He relinquishes his grip on my hand as I bring us, featherlike, to the ground ten feet from his brother. “Until then, Prince Szames.” I hold back laughter. He gives a slight bow as we part. I curtsey in return. Surly someone such as this won’t take too much offense when he finds out about empathetic magic…
Chapter Sixteen
“Your Highness.” I bow. “Have you been waiting long?” Winged insects plague my insides once more. Why have I put myself in this position?