The Wandering War--The Sleeping King Trilogy, Book 3
Page 6
Kadir pounded the point home mercilessly. “Our lord king and leader, Hadrian, is in grave danger. His physical body is exactly what this child needs.”
Calls went up around the table for increased guards on Hadrian’s resting place, for new magical protections to be put in place around the Great Mage that would defend him specifically against dream-based creatures. There were even calls for a complete moratorium on use of the gates until this childlike dream creature was destroyed.
Eventually, the panic subsided as layers of plans were put into place to safeguard Hadrian. Kadir looked down the table at Angelico and asked, “Is there anything else you need to report?”
“Indeed, there is. In the middle of the worst of the combat to close the gate, I heard a young woman shout our name. ‘Alchizzadon!’ she yelled. ‘Raina of Tyrel has taken the field of battle!’ The chit had the gall to announce herself to me at the top of her lungs, for all to hear!”
His full attention snapped to the claviger, whose tone had grown deeply indignant. Kadir suppressed a grin. Good for her.
“And then, at the victory feast following the battle, Lord Goldeneye named her his emissary to the Heart. And she actually accepted as if he had every right to do such a thing.”
Elfonse rolled his eyes. “The Heart will never recognize her as an emissary. She does not even count eighteen summers in age.”
“To add insult to injury,” Angelico complained, “she’s wearing White Heart colors as proud as you please.”
Elfonse snorted. “As if those will protect her from us taking her and using her for the purpose she was born for.”
Kadir suppressed his alarm at that sentiment. “Well, now,” he drawled, “we do have to consider the Royal Order of the Sun. They are not entirely without ability to protect her.”
“Bah,” Elfonse retorted scornfully. “I could take down a dozen Royal Order of the Sun warriors with a single snap of my fingers.”
“I’m sure you could,” Kadir replied. “But what of the hundred Royal Order of the Sun warriors who would come back for you? Or the thousand who would come after you destroyed the hundred?”
Elfonse glared at him and did not deign to answer. Which was to say, the man had no answer for Kadir’s logic. At the end of the day, the Heart was part of the Empire and could summon more might than they could ever hope to defeat. Not to mention Elfonse was talking about kidnapping an Imperial guild member of potentially considerable rank. There were only a handful of White Heart emissaries in all of Haelos.
Kadir leaned forward. “What if we invite Raina to come here to speak with us?”
A startled sound rose down both sides of the table. They did not know that she had reached out to their order last fall, writing a peace offering of sorts. Kadir had intercepted the missive, which offered, in return for the mages leaving her alone, her helping the Mages of Alchizzadon in their ancient goal of rousing the great human mage, Hadrian. Kadir had burned the letter to protect her whereabouts from Elfonse and his crowd of rabid hard-liners.
Something else he knew that his fellow mages did not was that Raina and a group of her friends had been attempting to wake another ancient being of legend. If he really existed, the mages should by all means help her find this sleeping king. Let the dream child and her elemental army take over that king’s body instead of Hadrian’s.
“Why do you attempt to coddle Raina, Kadir? It is of no matter whether she loves us or hates us, as long as we bring her here and possess her magic.”
It took all of Kadir’s self-discipline not to fume in visible rage. No matter that “possessing” Raina’s magic would drain her life energy and kill her permanently.
Over his dead body would Elfonse do that to Raina.
The only person in the room who knew that she was, in fact, his own flesh-and-blood daughter was Albinus. And to his credit, the high proctor was not by a single look or word giving away any hint of that secret. Stars willing, the old man had forgotten the truth of Raina’s parentage.
For longer than anyone had memory, the Mages of Alchizzadon had been lying with the women of the House of Tyrel in an effort to breed ever more powerful female mages who would one day be strong enough to rouse Hadrian.
The mages were close to that goal. So close. In fact, Raina might actually be the one powerful enough to do it. But now that she lived and breathed, his resolve to sacrifice her to wake some long-dead mage, who by rights ought to have been dust long ago, was not as ironclad as it had once been. She had his eyes, for stars’ sake.
He mostly sat out of the spirited discussion of his suggestion that the mages try reaching out to her in friendship before they leaped to kidnap her and incur the wrath of the Royal Order of the Sun.
Elfonse hated the idea and argued that she would never accept the invitation. As his voice began to sway the others, Kadir was forced to speak up. “I will write her the letter. She knows me, and I know a little of her. I am best suited to draft words that will convince her to come to us of her own volition. And furthermore, I know just the person to deliver the message. I can personally guarantee that she will accept the invitation.”
Albinus rasped in an onionskin voice, thin and dry, “So be it.”
Elfonse shoved back from the table and stormed out of the chamber, torches guttering in the wake of his passing. For his part, Kadir retired to his own room to work out the logistics of not only inviting Raina to come here but how to get her here without revealing the secret of Alchizzadon’s location.
Justin would have to be ritually marked with the rune that brought mages back to Alchizzadon and be taught how to use it. The young man had been Raina’s best friend and childhood sweetheart before she left home. Of course, she would say yes to a personal request from him.
The last obstacle to be overcome would be crafting an invitation that appealed to her curiosity, sense of duty, and desire to be rid of the mages once and for all. The combination would be irresistible to her.
* * *
Will led Rynn and Eben through the forests of Hyland for most of the morning before they dared to emerge from the backwoods and travel the main eastbound highway to the capital. Crowded as it was with farmers, merchants, caravans, and soldiers, they felt safe joining the stream of travelers as they hurried back to Dupree.
The next challenge was to slip into Dupree without Rynn’s open third eye being noticed. In the absence of his filigree headband to disguise it, he was vulnerable to arrest or worse. As they approached the city gates, Will traded cloaks with Rynn to give the paxan the most voluminous cloak with the deepest hood.
They attached themselves to a cluster of traveling merchants headed into the city with wares from distant shores. But it was not enough.
A guard called out to Will and his friends, “’Ey there! You three. Identify yourselves.”
Will shoved his hood back and laced his voice with all the arrogance he could muster. “I am Will Cobb, battle mage of the Mage’s Guild and apprentice to Guildmaster Aurelius Lightstar.” He was stretching the truth a bit, but he wasn’t technically lying. “And these are my traveling companions, a merchant and a monk.”
Eben opened his cloak to show the Hyland colors and made a short half bow to the guard staring down at them from the parapet. Rynn made a low obeisance, flashing his crystal gauntlets and greaves as he made an intricate flourish with his hands over his outstretched leg.
“Go on, then!” the guard called down gruffly.
Will let out a relieved breath. They hurried through the familiar streets of Dupree directly to Hyland House. The residence was in the western quadrant of the city, close to the Great West Road that led to Hyland. The Mage’s Guild was all the way across town, and they dared not risk hauling an open-eyed paxan through the streets of Dupree in broad daylight.
Will breathed another sigh of relief when they slipped through the postern and into the small courtyard in front of Hyland House. Rynn expelled an even gustier sigh of relief.
“Now what?” Eben asked.
Rynn spoke up cautiously. “Do we know for certain that your grandfather is not the one who had us kidnapped?”
Will stared at the paxan in horror. “Of course we know!”
Rynn half bowed. “I meant no offense, but you know what they say. The Empire runs deeper than blood.”
“Not in my family’s case!” he snapped. “My grandfather has plenty of reason to—” He broke off. Plenty of reason to hate Koth. But those reasons were Aurelius’s alone to share or not share.
Eben piped up. “I do not doubt the guildmaster, but Rynn makes a good point. We have no way of knowing who is or isn’t our friend outside of our own small group.”
Were they warning him off Thanon and his boys? Of course, Thanon’s loyalties were perfectly clear: Empire first. Everything else second. In a way, it made Thanon singularly trustworthy. His motivations were wholly transparent and predictable.
“I’m hungry,” Eben announced.
Will grinned. “You’re always hungry, Eb.”
Eben patted his muscular abdomen fondly. “I’m a growing lad.”
Rynn joked, “Do not grow too much more, else you will be mistaken for a youngling giant.”
“Hah! Throw no stones at me, Master Carnival Freak!”
Will chimed in, “If not a giant, you’ll soon be taken for a suckling pig ready for a platter and an apple in its teeth.”
Thus it was that they were still laughing and ribbing one another over a late lunch when Aurelius burst into Hyland’s dining room. He was as discomposed as Will had ever seen him rushing in with hair mussed, arms akimbo, and cloak sideways.
“Are you all right?” Aurelius demanded.
“Yes, sir,” Will answered quickly. “Thanks to my companions’ quick thinking and our young legs, we were able to escape with relative ease.”
“That, and my new friend on the dream plane agreed to help us escape,” Eben declared. “I believe it is she who caused our captors not to notice us making our escape.”
Will was skeptical. Why would a dream child with an army at her beck and call bother to aid them?
Aurelius answered sharply, “You should not have been taken at all. I will have the barkeep who drugged you arrested.”
Will disagreed. “Anton will simply recruit some other local to do his dirty work for him. Better the minion we know and can avoid than the one we don’t know about.”
Aurelius fell heavily into a free chair at the long table, another sign of his unusual disquiet. “You are right, of course, but it infuriates me that Anton takes out his vendetta against me on you.”
Will shrugged. “I have done plenty to draw the wrath of the former governor down upon my own head.”
“Unfortunately, your escape last night will only infuriate him further. Next time, he will not come after you with a handful of rough brigands. You must be on your highest guard henceforth. You and your friends must leave Dupree. It is not safe for you here.”
Rynn snorted rather inelegantly. “It is not safe for us anywhere.”
The casual certainty in Rynn’s voice sent a chill crawling down Will’s spine. The paxan was right, of course. There would be no safe haven for them until they had woken the Sleeping King or died permanently, whichever came first.
“We need to make preparations with all possible haste for your departure. I will send for Selea to consult with us. And a jeweler.”
“A jeweler?” Will asked.
“Rynn needs a new headband. Speaking of which, Rynn, could you draw up a sketch of your last headband so it may be copied?”
“Of course.”
The never-ending necessity of watching over their shoulders in fear of discovery was beginning to wear on his nerves. Will wanted to find the perfect way to propose to Rosana and settle down to a quiet life somewhere out of the way. To his chagrin, his parents’ choice to live in tiny Hickory Hollow, deep in the Wylde Wold, was finally beginning to make sense to him.
Aurelius said grimly, “Summon your traveling companions, Will. The time has come for you and your friends to continue your quest.”
* * *
No matter how hard Gabrielle tried to remember what had happened to cause her to give her precious Octavium Pendant to the rokken, Bekkan, she could summon no memory to mind. She was still trying when a dwarf barged into the clearing, declaring loudly, “I come in search of Gunther Druumedar.”
She nodded to Olivar Worbal, Stormcaller of the Achensberg, who had been traveling companion to her and Gunther these past weeks. In turn, Olivar gestured to his ogre-kin assistant, Jossa, who slipped away into the darkness.
Meanwhile, Gabrielle said in the pleasant version of her queen-giving-a-command voice, “Come, good sir, and have a seat. Warm yourself by the fire and chase away the night’s chill from your bones.”
“My bones be fine,” he grumbled. But he did sit on an upended log and hold his rough hands out to the flames.
Gabrielle smiled into the collar of her cloak. She was growing genuinely fond of these dwarves and their prickly personalities. “I am Gabrielle. By what name should I call you?”
“Korgan. Korgan Druumedar.”
“Any relation to my friend Gunther Druumedar, after whom you inquired?” she asked.
“Aye. His son. And plenty annoyed I am at having to come traipsing out here in the middle of nowhere to speak with him.”
“Where is home for you?” she asked politely.
“Other end of Groenn’s Rest near the finger lakes. A hellish long journey it has been to seek out my sire.”
“Your news must be dire, indeed, for you to have undertaken such a taxing journey.” She really shouldn’t make fun of the grouchy dwarf, but his scowl was so fierce it bordered on comical. “Tell me, Korgan. What clan do you hail from?”
She’d discovered this was generally safe conversation territory with the dwarves, who delighted in their genealogy and never missed an opportunity to share long lists of ancestors, sometimes stretching back a dozen or more generations.
But to her surprise, the kelnor merely shrugged and looked away evasively.
Gunther stumped up to the fire, limping slightly on his mechanical leg. He took one look at her guest, and a ferocious glare overtook his expression.
“Korgan, I told ye to stay away from me and my business!”
“Your business came to the village dressed in a brace of Imperial Army tabards and asking a lot of questions about a certain helmet ye found,” Korgan growled back. “I had to flee for my life and pray the soldiers did not kill everyone we know in their hunt for thee and me.”
“Ye did not tell them anything about the helm, did ye?”
“I didn’t know anything to tell.”
Gunther threw up his hands. “Surely they followed thee. Why in the name of the great granite father did ye think it a wise course to lead them Imperials straight to me, boy?”
The beard of the “boy” came nearly to his waist, and he looked at least a hundred years old, if she was becoming any decent judge of dwarven age.
Korgan threw up his hands in disgust. “Bah! Ye never change, ye smelly old fart.”
“Disrespectful whelp—”
Gabrielle interrupted smoothly, using her most diplomatic tone. “Perhaps the night would be better served by you telling us what brings you to the Valley of Storms with such urgency, young Master Druumedar.” She smiled at the dwarf. It took a moment, but the hard edge of anger drained somewhat from his steely gaze.
He huffed and then said more temperately, “The Council of Elders sent me to give ye a message, old man. Do not come back to the village—ever—if ye wish for any of thy family and friends to live. The Empire be watching for ye, and they’ve orders to arrest thee and any who know thee. And I snuck away without any of them soldiers seein’ me, ye old coot.”
“Why would
the Empire be ordering my arrest?” Gunther demanded.
“It has to do with that helmet of thine. Apparently, they’re rounding up anyone who might have seen it. As of when I left, no one had come back to the village after being carted away.”
“Sold into slavery, most likely,” Jossa commented direly.
While she certainly knew slavery existed, Gabrielle’s life did not include knowing anyone subjected directly to its horrors. She and Regalo always made a point of freeing any house servants who came to them as slaves, or at worst setting up a reasonable term of indenture if a slave was working off a crime.
Sadly, she did have personal knowledge of the Emperor completely erasing the existence of a man—what was his name again? Of a sudden, she could not remember it or conjure a face to put with the poor fellow who’d crossed Maximillian and been erased from the memories of all who’d ever known him.
She glanced over at the gleaming green gem winking on Bekkan’s chest. Did memory of the forgotten one reside within its emerald depths? She could not remember, and something within her ached for the unnamed man. So many people simply erased by the Empire. So much loss. So much suffering.
Which was why she must protect Bekkan’s memories and take him with utmost haste to the Eight. The ultra-secret group dared to conduct a glacially slow rebellion against Maximillian in the Imperial Seat itself, right under the Emperor’s nose.
If soldiers were nosing around after Gunther, it was only a matter of time before they stumbled across some connection between her and the one-legged dwarf.
She lowered her voice. “It is imperative that we see Bekkan safely to a friend of mine before the Empire gets its hands on him.”
Korgan looked alarmed. “My father cannot leave this place.”
“Why not?” Gunther asked quickly, his usual surliness absent.
“The Empire searches for you. Where else in all of Koth can a one-legged dwarf hide from the long arm of Koth but here, in a secret valley deep in the heart of terrakin country?”
The terrakin dwarves were infamous for stubbornly resisting the advance of Koth across their lands. Almost unanimously, the race of dwarves opposed Koth. And to hear it from Maximillian, they were an irritating thorn in his side. Given how many dwarves had materialized seemingly out of nowhere last night to operate the Great Storm Forge and transform Bekkan from a copper statue into a living, breathing man, she had no doubt there were plenty of hiding places and secret entrances and exits from this valley.