by Lynn Hardy
Andskoti pauses briefly then answers even my unasked question. “Your faith in Yahweh keeps you from many of the limitations of our world, but your powers are not infinite. Yes, the priests may perform a blessing, and I will work through them to aid the soldiers. No, your power cannot aid you in breaking the First Law of Magic concerning portal transfers. Neither can I break it. I will guide you to select the one of my flock who is to accompany you…” The voice in my mind trails off. The lighting returns to normal, seeming dim now to my eyes.
“As it was in the past, so it is now. Eight are called to witness when Andskoti speaks.” Prestur’s voice is filled with both reverence and authority. “Let it be written: Archmage Reba need not kneel. Tell us, Archmage, what message did Andskoti give you for us?”
“You must gather all of your order immediately, here before me. One has been chosen to accompany us on the campaign after the Great Battle. Andskoti also wishes you to bestow a blessing upon the king’s troops. His final words were a warning: time is short and we must not tarry.” No sooner does the last word leave my mouth than seven of the priests spring into action, leaving me alone with Archbishop Prestur.
“There was more that Andskoti said,” Prestur states more than asks.
“Yes, Andskoti stands blocking the gateway to the Demon World. If the gate is opened, your world will be flooded by monsters who will devour mankind. One of his priests must be present at the gate when we close it. Time is crucial.” I relate more than the words I heard; I translate the feelings accompanying it.
Prestur comes to stand beside the altar. “You were right to withhold this information. If word spreads that Andskoti is aiding us in this battle, the masses will panic. It is said, anything the gods take a hand in is deadly to man.”
Priests file in through six of the eight doorways. Their robes vary in color, some are plain white, some are gold, and some of each have a colorful trim around the bottom edge of the gown. Prestur, however, is the sole priest who has a maroon robe with golden trim. More than forty men file in, taking places on hard, wooden pews. How will I ever know which one he wants me to choose?
The door to my right opens. A young priest in a plain, white robe enters, hastening to find a seat. A soft, golden glow surrounds him like an aura without sight activated. Is that the guy who was watching the front desk?
“Archbishop Prestur, the last one to take his seat,” I whisper. “He’s the one Andskoti has chosen.”
“Fellow Guides on the Passage of Light, hearken to my words. Andskoti has spoken. Our god has chosen one of you to accompany the troops after the Great Battle. Brother Nemandi, come forward.” The clergymen begin to whisper as the priest who greeted me makes his way to the altar.
“How can it be that he is chosen above us all?” Christopher falls silent as the archbishop raises his hand.
“It is not for us to judge. At your rank, Bishop, you should not have to be reminded of such things. Perhaps assuming Brother Nemandi’s duties while he is occupied with the upcoming journey will help reinforce the Neophyte lessons you seem to have forgotten.” Prestur’s tone softens as he turns to Nemandi. “Place your hand upon the Altar of Andskoti, my son.”
Nemandi visibly trembles as he follows the orders of his superior. The feelings reverberating through him cause me to flinch. He expects to die when he touches it. The golden glow crowning him moves to the marmari-sterk table. Every man in the room gasps as light radiates from the rock. I dip my head in acknowledgment. The task of choosing a priest to accompany our troops wasn’t as hard as I expected.
“Archmage Reba, I thank you for your assistance here today. I assure you, Brother Nemandi will be ready when he is needed.” His dismissal is unmistakable.
“It was an honor, Your Grace.” I take my leave with a bow.
Priest Scene
Chapter Nineteen
Galloping toward Castle Eldrich, we turn onto Royal Boulevard with the darkening sky hovering above. The guard at the front gate is in a wrestling match with a figure half his size. Three smaller figures attack him from all sides.
I urge my horse into a full-out run. Within seconds, I recognize the children I sent to gather rocks. The smallest figure, which must be the five-year-old Araine, stands between the brawl and the metal pail. Scattered on the ground are bundles of bread and meat that were distributed to the volunteers as they returned from collecting sand.
My horse skids to a halt. “Hold!” I command. The guard straightens up, releasing the child. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Archmage.” The guard bows. “These children are thieves. They try to claim payment for a bucket of stones with a fire token.”
“Lieutenant Craig, report to the courtyard and inform King Arturo that I will be there directly.” Craig remounts, galloping through the open gate. I turn to the guard, who retains a tight grip on Todd’s shirt. “Release him at once.”
Letting go of the child, the guard comes to full attention.
“Soldier, what were your orders concerning the fire tokens?” My voice is as hard as the steel he wears.
“They were to be given to any who contributed supplies, in lieu of payment, sir,” he barks out his instructions. “All materials arriving with them are to be placed in the field next to the stables.”
“I suggest you follow those orders to the letter. Leave the judgment of value to others. You will now personally see that the bucket and its contents are delivered to my quarters.” His fear is punishment enough. Does he expect me to vaporize him?
The guard gives a crisp salute, taking possession of the bucket. As he calls for assistance, I am mobbed by the kids. They chatter like a group of chipmunks. “It’s okay. It’s okay…” I shush them, gathering the smallest ones into my arms.
Maria and Araine soon quiet down. Todd elbows Chazan, who also stops babbling. “I’m sorry, m’lady, we tried to do what ya’ say, but he wouldn’t let us…” Todd pauses to glare over his shoulder as the evening bells toll in the distance.
“That won’t happen again. And if you guys are still willing, I could use a second pail of rocks tomorrow.” A tingle of warning creeps down my spine, so I add, “When you go out again, I need you to stay real close to the grown-ups. There might be demons out there. K?”
All five nod solemnly.
“Yes, milady, we can do it!” Todd exclaims over the other shouts of agreement.
“Then come back to this gate tomorrow morning, and I’ll have two buckets waiting.” They gather up their foodstuffs, bounding home with youthful exuberance. The true treasure of a country, indeed, lies with its youth.
I stretch my legs out into powerful strides, rushing to the courtyard where the officers of Cuthburan are waiting. There are close to thirty men lined up, standing at attention. To my surprise, Merithin and Alex are standing with King Arturo on the lower steps.
“Your Majesty, Your Highness, Merithin.” I bow. “If you’re ready?”
The monarch nods. I continue. “I plan to tie an enchantment to your sword, Your Majesty. Three key words, spoken in Cuthburish, will activate the spell: king, kingdom, mankind. I thought perhaps you could use them in performing something like a knighting ceremony.”
Figuring that they pulled Merithin out of his sickbed to keep an eye on the proceedings, I explain my intentions. “Whatever you touch with your blade as you say the last word will be the recipient of the spell. Leather armor will become stronger than the strongest steel, and all cloth, stronger than chain mail.”
“We will be the one controlling the spell?” King Arturo is incredulous.
“Yes, but I can imbue only so much energy into the sword. Tomorrow night it will need to be recharged at least once.” Smiling at the elder sorcerer, I ask, “Merithin, if you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could assist King Arturo with the recharge?”
“By tomorrow evening I’ll have strength enough for all but a major working.” Merithin still looks pale, in face as well as aura, but his nod is firm.
The king hands his sword to me. I bring to the forefront of my mind the lines of rhyme I composed for this incantation. Focusing my attention on the blade, I begin to chant.
“Those who gather to protect this land
Are now in need of a helping hand.
All the leather they are wearing,
Titanium strength will be bearing.
Clothes that move and bend,
Chain mail strength times ten.
Key words you will find,
‘Konung, riki, mannkyn.’“
Picturing the knighting procedure and the intended results, my hands holding the sword, vibrate with power as I set the enchantment.
“Sight.” The radiant glow reassures me that the spell has taken.
“Your Majesty, if Merithin will accompany you, I see no need for my presence. He will be able to inform you if the spell fails to transfer.” I hand the sword back to its owner.
“Of course, Archmage.” King Arturo dismisses me, “Go with our gratitude.”
“Milady Reba, will you require an escort to your next engagement?” Alex proposes.
“Thank you for the offer, Your Highness, but I think I will take the direct route.” I glance upward. Please let his fear of flying outweigh his curiosity.
The prince relinquishes his offer with a slight nod. I bow to the king and turn to leave. Five paces later I whisper, “Superman,” and lift myself from the ground. Flying around the corner, I look toward my balcony. Catching a glimpse of the starlit sky, I manage to keep my attention focused on staying aloft instead of on the sparkling heavens. My feet land on the secured perch. I swivel around. My mouth falls slack as I gaze at the heavens above.
Stars are sprinkled throughout the dark, grouped in odd clusters. Not a trace is found of the Big or Little Dipper or even Orion’s Belt. The unknown constellations are not what caused my distraction, though. Consuming my attention are three moons. One is full and bright, one is three-quarters illuminated, and a third is invisible to the naked eye, but my magesight reveals the florescent teal sphere.
We really are on a whole other world. Shaking off the chill lodging at my nape, I step into my chamber. Figuring I should check for messages, I amble toward the desk.
More than a mark later, I look up from the new stack of correspondences. I flex my right hand while my other hand rubs a neck throbbing from the unaccustomed stress of the life-and-death decisions I have made. A knock sounds on the reception chamber door. Crystal comes in from the bedroom with Phedra in tow, ushering in Prince Szames and a group of archers.
I rise to greet them. “Your Highness, please follow me.”
“Archmage Reba, as you requested, I have my twenty best archers.” Szames and the soldiers file into the dining room. Why does my empathy perceive such clear feelings from everybody else but nothing from him?
“I have an important task for you men,” I begin, my voice loud enough to carry to every soldier in the room. “Today Prince Szames and I have enlarged the shield; it now reaches the outer side of the wall. Each of you are to reinforce the guards as the bells toll midnight. After a few marks, start to wander toward the outer edge of the walkway. Lord willing, we will be rid of more demons by sunrise. If your aim is true, you may be able to pick off any of the fliers that manage to avoid the wrath of the defensive shield.”
The men grin in anticipation as Szames dismisses them. Within minutes, we are alone in the extravagant dining room. He pulls out the chair at the head of the table for me then sits, looking expectant.
I sigh. “Szames, what I’m about to tell you must never be revealed. I trust you with this knowledge for two reasons: Most importantly, you seem pretty open-minded about magic. I also feel that if we are to have an honest friendship, I shouldn’t deceive you or even mislead you.”
He waits for me to continue.
“I possess a small amount of empathetic magic. Unless I shield myself, I can form a link with the emotions of others, discerning what they feel. That’s how I was able to deliver the speech so well. In a way I did become ‘one with the audience.’ I was able to feel their reaction to what I said. I don’t deserve praise for the performance. It was my first oration. Magic was the only thing that allowed me to speak as I did.” Should I mention that I can’t feel anything from him?
“Empathetic magic, hmm. As it is said, you bring a whole new dimension to sorcery as we know it. How much can you sense of what others feel?” Bristling with emotion I cannot fathom, his question is almost a demand.
“I can sense different levels of emotion from different people, or I can shield myself from sensing anything at all.”
“Are there any here that have this gift lying dormant, like the healing one?” Prince Szames persists.
“It is a relatively new magic on my world. We don’t know much about how it works.” I hate the minor deception, even though I know it is necessary. I cock my head, exploring the new line of thought. “You know, I haven’t thought about looking for the empathetic trait in Cuthburan.” I continue, pleading for understanding. “I’m unsure how your people will react to this type of sorcery. I prefer to keep my abilities private, for a while at least.”
“I assure you, your secret is safe with me,” Szames mumbles, more somber than I have seen him. Crystal enters followed by a whole troop of servants to set the table around us as he mutters, “Perhaps my brother has a type of magic after all.”
I’ll have to get the guys to help me correlate the color patterns. I proceed along what I assume is the same train of thought as my dinner companion’s. “Speaking of your brother, I would love to hear your view on him, if it wouldn’t be betraying a confidence.” Without warning waves of emotion cascade through me, my face betrays nothing as impressions threaten to overwhelm my composure. The foreign feelings echo those I have felt countless times. Unbidden, a vivid memory springs to mind…
~
My hand trembles as I hold the note, rereading it for the fourth time.
Becky,
I need to talk to you. Can I give you a ride home today?
Thanks,
Richey
Can it be? He wants to see me, not Lani? For once a guy has chosen me over my more outgoing, more confident, not to mention poised and flirtatious, twin sister?
I make a conscious effort not to stumble on the way to his car as he pulls up outside the school. Floating on cloud nine all afternoon, it is the best day of my life. Within minutes, my fantasy world comes crashing down around me.
“I’m glad you could make it. I know we are friends and all, so I thought you might be able to help.” Richey hesitates before blurting out the reason for the unexpected invitation. “Can you tell me what Lani likes to do? I want to ask her out, but I don’t know what she’s into.”
Lani wins again. We are twins, yet wherever we go, the guys choose her over me.
~
Szames’s emotions mirror the ones I have felt for so many years: disappointment, diminishing self-esteem, and rejection all mixed together with resignation and a little frustration. The feelings disappear like the lights of fireflies on a chilly evening.
“Of course.” His voice is as bleak as is the barren ground of my empathy. “What is it you wish to know?”
I try to make amends without letting on that I had even a brief look at his innermost emotional state. “I know your brother is a playboy: how any woman could be stupid enough to fall for his obtuse advances is beyond me. What I need to know is this; is he as good with the nobles as he thinks he is with women? Will they follow him if he backs my ideas?” He closes a sagging jaw. Szames’s face lightens although I still feel nothing from him.
“Yes, as you have surmised, Alex is extremely good with the nobility.” Szames relaxes as I help myself to the fare placed before us. “I believe he could charm the feathers off a bird if he set his mind to it. If he backs you, your voice will be heard.”
“I’m no good at political games and court maneuverings. I hope all I have to do is
get Alex on my side and let him take care of the rest.” I probe further. “What kind of king is he going to be? Does he care about his people, the common man?”
“Like all the kings of the line before him, he seems to have a knack with the peasants: Although, with your stirring speech, you have probably replaced him as their favorite noble.” His smile seems sincere.
We eat in companionable silence as I explore the new information. Alex will be a good king. He has the backing of the nobles. How am I supposed to assume power? Why would I want to? It’s time to hear that prophecy.
“So is it my turn for a question?” Szames queries as I pause to refill my plate. “The few items you have made and those you describe make it appear that your world is much more scientifically advanced. How far advanced is it?”
“I’d hazard a guess that our world is several hundred years ahead of your own, which isn’t all to the good. We’ve made many mistakes over the last couple hundred years. We’re now seeing the results of our mistakes.” I keep my reply vague. “Because of this, much of the technology we have, I’m unwilling to reveal, even to you, for fear of the harm it might cause in the years to come.”
“What technology could be so devastating? Could you tell me the results of the advancements at least?”
“We have weapons of war that poison the air and land for decades into the future. The making of these weapons, among other things, has poisoned our oceans. We destroy our forests to make room for overpopulation and hunt many animals into extinction for sport.” I sigh. “But plagues no longer sweep the land. The average person works five out of seven days, and the average life expectancy is ninety in my country.”
“Longer life, more time for pleasure, and good health. The price is merely the destruction of the land and seas. The price is too high. I admire your decision. I will honor it.” Szames echoes my thoughts as I finish sating my appetite.