The God-Stone War m-4

by Michael G. Manning

  “Is Gram alright?” she asked.

  I leaned forward and set my chin on her head, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair. “He’s fine,” I started, “It looked bad, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t fix easily.”

  “Thank goodness. I don’t know what I would say to Rose if I had to explain that our son had broken his arm,” she replied.

  I snorted, “Children, particularly boys, do lots of stupid things.”

  “Some never grow out of it.” There was a bit of humor in her voice.

  “What did Matthew do?”

  Penelope took a deep breath. “Apparently they were playing hide and seek and Moira spotted him up on the fireplace mantle. When he refused to come down, your son decided to leap up and grab his leg. You saw the result. Of course, it wasn’t all Matthew’s fault… Gram should never have climbed up there.”

  “It did seem like a bad idea,” I agreed with her.

  She turned, frowning up at me. “Did seem?”

  “He was up there when I came home.”

  “And you left him there?” she said incredulously.

  “The twins were excited to see me and I didn’t want to spoil their game.” Hide and seek was serious business after all.

  “You left a six year old up there? Didn’t you think something might happen? What if it had been worse?” The intensity in Penny’s voice had gone up several notches. I began to suspect I had missed out on some important point.

  I studied her carefully, watching her face and body language, while my mind raced to understand my mistake. Over the years, my skill at this crucial marital skill had increased dramatically, but today I came up blank. I returned to my old standby, rationalization, even though my instincts and past experience told me it was a mistake. “We can’t protect them from everything, and I don’t really think it was that dangerous. They’re in more danger climbing that scrawny holly tree outside than they are on a six foot mantle. It was a freak accident.”

  Over the years Penelope had changed as well. In particular, her temper had softened; or rather she had learned to suppress it better. That wasn’t always a good thing though, for sometimes it meant that our problems got swept under the rug instead of being dealt with directly. Her mouth closed and she pressed her lips firmly together before opening again as she replied, with just a hint of sarcasm, “It must be nice to be able to put your fears in a box and examine them so plainly.”

  “We have different definitions of risk sweetheart, but everything turned out alright. Let’s not let it ruin the evening,” I added.

  A subtle whirl of emotions passed through her. I could see it in her aura and in the faint movements of her lips and eyes. “You’re right. I’m tired, and lately everything seems to bother me more than it should.” As she spoke, she seemed to almost visibly project her sincerity. If Marcus had been in the room he would have called it ‘overacting’.

  Taking a step forward, I started to embrace her but Penny sidestepped me. “Let me go clean up the glass first. It’s really bothering me.” I stopped awkwardly with my arms half out, while she turned and left the room, heading for the broom closet.

  Sitting down on the bed, I began reviewing the last few minutes in my mind, while following her progress with my magesight. She had gotten a broom and was now sweeping up the fragments of the mirror that had hung over the fireplace. After a moment she stopped and leaned on the broom. The shaking of her shoulders told me she was crying and I withdrew my senses. Watching was only making me more upset. Why is she so upset?

  It wasn’t the accident. She had dealt with far worse than that over the past few years. That was simply the trigger and the excuse. Perhaps it was the mirror, though that made little sense. I was one of the richest men in Lothion. I could easily buy her another mirror. Where had we gotten that mirror anyway? The question rolled around in my head for a moment before the answer sprang at me like a jungle cat waiting in ambush… her mother. That mirror was one of the few things she had from her mother, I realized.

  Leaping up, I caught her at the kitchen door. It led out to our small garden, and was the preferred exit we used to reach our rubbish pile. She had the glass fragments bundled into a heavy pile within a cloth square. I stopped her by making an obstacle of myself as she tried to reach the door. “Wait, let me have those,” I said.

  Her cheeks were dry already as she looked up at me. “Mort, let me by. I need to throw this stuff away.”

  “That was your mother’s mirror. I finally remembered a moment ago. Let me have it and I’ll fix it for you.”

  “It would take forever, even for you. It’s broken into a thousand tiny shards. You’d never get them all together again. Just let me throw it away. It isn’t your fault,” she said reasonably. Though she tried to hide it, there was a glimmer of hope in her eye.

  I pulled the bag from her hands and she didn’t resist much. “There might be a way. Give me some time to think on it. Alright?” I slid my right arm around her shoulder as I spoke and I felt her relax against me. Her own hand snaked around my waist.

  “Fine,” Penny said at last. “If it will make you feel better.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice.

  “Yes, I think it would. You know how terribly sentimental I am about these things,” I answered with a wink.

  * * *

  Dinner was served at the usual hour, but today the keep bustled with increased activity and there was a feeling of excitement in the air. Since the patrol had returned, it meant that two hundred men who had been absent for six months were back home again. The multitude of family reunions as the soldiers reunited with their wives and children made it seem much like a holiday, and in fact, the castle staff was treating it as one. Several pigs had been slaughtered, and my foresters had brought down a few deer as well. The feast would be exceptional tonight.

  Penelope stood beside me, dazzling in her beauty. She had spared no effort in her preparations today. Two hours before dinnertime we had returned to our nominal suite of rooms, the part of the castle that we supposedly lived in. The children were gathered up by our nanny, Lilly, and they were now enjoying their dinner in a separate hall with the other children of Castle Cameron. We normally had breakfast and lunch as a family, but the evening meal was usually a more formal occasion.

  The woman next to me looked every inch a Countess and I still wondered at my fortune in marrying her. This evening she was wearing a straightforward green dress, but the devil was in the details or in this case the accents. The hem and sleeves were delicately embroidered with dark green leaf patterns, that matched the leaves in a cloth of gold belt that looped around her waist twice at different heights. The net effect was to accentuate her figure and exploit her natural curves. The emerald earrings and the pendant that she wore were simple and elegant but only highlighted the fact that the wearer was, in fact, more beautiful than her jewelry. “Ready?” she asked me.

  By that she meant was I ready to make our entrance. Unlike most of those who lived in the castle, we couldn’t simply walk in and sit down at the table. We couldn’t even be early, for if we were, it disrupted the staff and the routine. Given our position as master and mistress, our arrival signaled the beginning of the meal. Once we entered everyone would rise and wait until we had reached our places. All in all it was a pain in the ass.

  Nodding I took her arm and we stepped out into the noisy feast hall. One of the footmen standing by the doorway raised his voice above the crowd as he announced us, “All rise for the Count and Countess!” The noise in the room died away rapidly, as everyone stood and watched us make our way to our seats at the high table.

  Reaching the end of the table I held Penelope’s chair for her, before taking my own. The old tradition had been for two servants to hold both our chairs for us and we would sit at the same time, but I much preferred the chance to engage in a bit of gallantry. In the end my stubbornness had prevailed, and a new tradition was born. I spoke as I sat down myself, “Please everyone, relax and enjoy your meal
.”

  The level of noise rose rapidly back to normal, as conversations resumed and the servers began bringing out the pitchers to fill everyone’s cups. Our table was long, but it still lacked enough seats to accommodate everyone that might be of a rank to sit with me. I had created twenty Knights of Stone, but since half of them were usually in Gododdin, I rarely had to worry about seating that many knights and their wives.

  Since this patrol had just returned, the ten knights who were now back home would be given a few weeks rest before dispersing to their usual posts across the kingdom of Lothion. Each of them had been granted a home and a small allotment of land in whichever part of the kingdom they resided. They lived in those homes with their families during the half of the year that they weren’t busy trekking across Gododdin in search of undead monsters. Although King James had been the one to give most of them their grants of land, they still answered directly to me. He and Dorian would accept matters no other way.

  Tonight I had Penny sitting at my right and my mother, Miriam, was beside her. On my left sat Dorian, still a bit rough looking after his long sojourn away from home. Beside him was Lady Rose, who almost seven years before had become Lady Rose Thornbear. She was resplendent as usual, in a silver gown. Her hair had been carefully coiffed and piled atop her head, while some of it had been left to spill free in the back, flowing down her neck and across one shoulder. A natural beauty, she was made even more stunning by the fact of her pregnancy, she was quite literally ‘great’ with child. Given the shine in her eyes and the way Dorian was constantly watching her, I did not doubt the old rumor that many women were more beautiful when pregnant.

  Next to Rose sat Sir Harold, the third highest ranked of my knights. Beside him was his wife, Lisette. She had formerly been one of the castle maids, but now she was more properly addressed as, ‘Dame Lisette’. Across from Harold and sitting next to Miriam, was Walter Prathion, wizard and these days, Baron of Arundel as well. I had granted the title and lands to him not long after the death of our previous king, Edward. He certainly deserved the reward, and I didn’t mind having one of the only remaining wizards in existence as my vassal.

  Beside Walter sat his wife Rebecca, now the Baroness of Arundel. Beyond her sat the rest of the Knights of Stone, Sir Egan, Sir Donald, Sir Brian, Sir Daniel, Sir Jeffery, Sir Grant, Sir Lionel and Sir Ian. Only a few of them had families close enough to attend the dinner at Castle Cameron, although two of them were lucky enough that their wives were able to attend. Given the length of the table, conversation wasn’t easy. That was probably for the best, since I had forgotten the names of their wives. Penny frequently saved me when it came to such matters.

  After everyone had had their cups filled, I stood and looked first down the table and then across the hall. I drew everyone’s eyes to me before I raised my goblet and called out to them, “Today we are grateful at the return of our brave soldiers. Let us all raise our drinks in a toast to those who have worked so hard to defend this realm from all who threaten it, and who have risked their lives to protect those who yet survive in Gododdin.”

  Cries of ‘hear, hear!’ rang out as everyone stood and lifted their mugs. After several noisy moments, during which people shouted their agreement, I sat back down and the first platters of bread were brought in. A light cream soup followed and the meal began in earnest.

  “How is Gram feeling?” said Penny looking across the table to Rose. After his nap we had turned him loose to see his father but we didn’t know for sure what he had told them yet.

  “You mean his arm?” Rose replied. Her face was smooth, like a still pond with hidden depths.

  “Of course.”

  Rose broke the tension with a smile. “He’s fine. In fact, he seems to think that it’s magic now, though he wouldn’t tell me what sort of fantastic tale Mordecai told him when he healed it.”

  Dorian uttered a deep chuckle. “A broken arm wouldn’t slow him down much anyway; the Thornbears come from tough stock.” The large warrior’s face had lines now, the product of years spent in the sun. His once dark hair now held a large amount of grey; much like his father, Dorian’s hair was turning white early. He also bore a full beard, for shaving was a luxury few bothered with while living on the road.

  In my mind, Dorian was still a downy cheeked youth, the friend I had grown up with, but each time I saw him my eyes reminded me that he was no longer a boy. Whenever he returned from one of the long patrols it seemed as though he had aged several more years. It was an unwelcome reminder to me of his mortality.

  “I wouldn’t have known he was injured if I hadn’t seen the bone sticking out,” I interjected, “He was so calm and quiet about it.”

  Rose spoke again, “He obviously takes after his father.”

  “Speaking of his father, I’m dying to know how things went in Gododdin. I hear there were no casualties this time.” The latest question came from my mother, Miriam.

  Dorian grimaced, “That is true, but I worry at the cause for our good fortune.”

  Sir Harold leaned in, “Perhaps we should save this discussion for the meeting tomorrow morning.”

  “That might be best,” agreed Dorian. “I’d rather not start speculating here and create unnecessary rumors.”

  I nodded, “Your words show wisdom, Harold. Even so, I’d like both of you to meet with me after dinner, rather than wait till morning.”

  My mother was not quite as content. “Now hang on… when will I get to hear the news?” said Miriam.

  “I’ll fill you in later,” I said soothingly.

  Miriam grunted, “You always say that, but later doesn’t always come.”

  As much as I would have liked to argue the point with her, my mother was correct. It was a problem with my new title and station, but it wasn’t anything I could fix. Before I could open my mouth to try and apologize she spoke again, “Don’t worry about it son. You’re the Count di’Cameron, and I am a nosy old woman.”

  “That isn’t true, and you know I value your advice,” I said, without a hint of the apology I had considered a moment before.

  Having recovered her sense of decorum, she replied, “You’re kind to say that, Mordecai.” With that she put her attention deliberately on her food and retreated from the conversation. I admired her for her graceful recovery in an awkward situation, but I still worried about her. Since my father’s passing she had become more emotional. Penny had suggested that without Royce to anchor her, she was simply showing more of her emotional side to her family (me). I suspected that she was correct. Penny had an uncanny intuition when it came to these things.

  The conversation proceeded from there, as Penny and Rose took up the slack in the conversation. Over the past seven years the two had become even closer friends, which was a good thing considering that Rose now resided primarily in Castle Cameron.

  “What was that?” I asked. Rose had said something to Dorian, but I hadn’t quite caught her words. For his part, my friend looked a bit uncomfortable.

  Rose glanced over at me before speaking, “I was telling my husband that it’s a good thing these patrols are timed the way they are. If he had been leaving on this one instead of returning, he might have missed the birth of our next child.”

  The birth of your daughter, I thought to myself. Rose and Dorian had asked me not to tell them the gender of their unborn child, preferring it to be a surprise, but she was far enough along that every wizard that had come into contact with her already knew the sex. “The timing was pure luck, but I’m sure we could have rearranged things if it had worked out differently,” I replied.

  Dorian spoke up, “If fate smiles kindly upon us, we should see our second child in less than two months.” His optimism sounded a bit forced.

  “Perhaps if fate were truly kind, you would not need to lead the next patrol,” Rose answered acerbically. She looked at her husband as she spoke, but the words were clearly directed at me.

  A split second passed as the words hung in the air. Penny ha
d reached across to clasp her friend’s hand with an encouraging look. Glancing in my direction she clearly thought it obvious that I would excuse my friend from the next patrol. In fact I had already considered doing so, but the look on Dorian’s face gave me pause. Having known him for most of my life I could see that he had no intention of passing his duty on to someone else. I could also see that he had probably already had this conversation with Rose in private. She had brought it up again to put him on the spot, certain that my approval would leave him with no choice but to stay at home.

  All of this occurred in one breathless pause, and then I lowered my eyes, rubbing my forehead with one hand to give me a moment to think. Penelope frowned as she saw my hesitation, and of course Rose was equally observant, meanwhile I spotted a flash of hope on Dorian’s face. What the hell kind of man wants to leave his family to pursue undead when he had a newborn at home? As a father myself, I found his devotion to duty abnormal, and yet I had known he would be this way. It was a large part of the reason I had chosen my friend to lead the Knights of Stone.

  If I gave public approval to their plan to keep Dorian at home, he would be in very hot water if he chose to go anyway. Yet, if I ordered him to go, I would face the wrath of Penelope later. Taking a deep breath I spoke, “I cannot in good conscience force Cyhan or Harold to take up an extra patrol at this point. If there are other options I may consider them later, but it will depend upon our meeting tomorrow and on Cyhan’s report when he returns in six months.”

  None of them had expected that response, and I didn’t like the look on Penny and Rose’s faces. Penny in particular opened her mouth to argue with me before closing it again. She had learned quite a bit of tact over the years. When she opened it again, she had a cooler reply, “I’m sure you have your reasons, husband. We can discuss them later.”

  Dinner was noticeably quieter after that.