Melissa stopped and took a couple ragged breaths. She looked over at the queen and Garibaldi. They were staring at her wide eyed. She looked all around the throne room. Everyone was silent and staring; their eyes all judging her.
Torikai did not want any part of this war. The guild wished to stay out of it and continue with business as usual. All the nearby countries would follow their example. As the ambassador here, her job had been to try win the queen over to the right side. To convince her that supporting Avalon was the only choice and that destroying Alteroth would help her and her country in the long run. She knew it would be difficult to win Madis over, but Melissa had hoped to shame her into doing the right thing. There would only be two sides in this war. Anyone who was not supporting Avalon was helping the Dark Mages.
Getting Madis to join the Alliance was likely impossible. But if Torikai would give them financial assistance and supplies that would be a huge benefit and make their logistics far simpler. At the absolute minimum, the Alliance had to have the right of passage through Torikai. All the roads in this part of the world intersected here. If they could not pass through, it would add hundreds of miles to an already too long march, and make their lines of communication vulnerable. Avalon had to have Torikai’s support in this crusade.
And now Madis and the entire court were looking at her as if she’d gone mad.
Melissa returned her attention to Waldo. He swallowed and took one more step back from her. She marched over to him and put her face right up into his.
“I’m beginning to wonder if you’re worth saving after all,” she whispered.
She turned on her heel and stormed out.
Chapter 21
Raw Onions Are Tasty
Waldo watched her go and hoped his relief wasn’t too obvious. For a moment, there he really had thought she might attack him. He remembered all the stories he’d heard growing up about White Mages and how fanatical and ruthless they were. If she’d had a knife in her hand Waldo was sure she’d have stabbed him. He didn’t want to think what would happen if the love potion wore off. He was lucky she no longer had a wand.
Since he was no longer in immediate danger he thought about the greater situation. Darius Heartless had been right. For years his mother had complained during dinners about his shouts and rants over Dregal joining the Alliance. His mother had always thought the notion ridiculous since, as he himself had just pointed out, it would trigger an immediate invasion. Alteroth was the most powerful country in the world and Avalon it’s sworn enemy. Of course, they would never tolerate an Alliance puppet on their border. No one with half a brain would think otherwise. King Doran must have been manipulated by the whites, there was no other answer.
Waldo did not doubt Alteroth would win. Each of the Seven Great Houses had its own army backed with the destructive power of dozens of Dark Mages. If all seven came together, who could possibly defeat them? But a certain victory was still very different from an easy victory. His mother always said the White Mages were skilled and the knights of Avalon were the best horsemen in the Shattered Lands. Not to mention their war golems! Alteroth would triumph but it would be costly. That Avalon would want such a war was just more proof they were all zealots.
“It seems the audience is at an end,” Madis said from her throne. “We are displeased that the ambassador would plead for this meeting, then be so disrespectful as to walk out without our leave.”
“Your majesty,” Garibaldi spoke. “We still have one White Mage present. Why not ask for his thoughts?”
The queen glanced over at Garibaldi and then back at Waldo. “Very well, Master Waldo, what is your opinion?”
“That all White Mages are mad.”
Madis’s eyebrows rose. “Including yourself?”
“I am wearing white robes, so obviously yes.”
“And what do you believe we should do now that Avalon and the Alliance are at war with Alteroth?”
“Let me answer that question with two of my own,” Waldo said. “First, how far are Avalon and the other Alliance countries from here?”
“About three thousand miles.”
“And how far away is Alteroth?”
The queen frowned. “Roughly two hundred.”
“Then unless you are eager for an invasion by the dark armies, I think the answer is clear.” Waldo bowed to her. “With your permission, majesty?”
At the queen’s nod Waldo left with Alice. The rest of the audience began to drift away. The queen turned to her advisor and spoke with a faint voice.
“What do you think?”
“Surprisingly,” Garibaldi said quietly. “I am in complete agreement with Master Rabbit. All White Mages really are mad.”
XXX
Asger Faolan was a Northman from Kjaamin; the frozen and barren lands north of the Storm Sea. His people were barbarians who raided and pillaged the entire length of the Storm Coast. They were savages, big brutish men who would arrive on their longboats out of a morning mist. Sack and loot a village or town and disappear back into the sea before the sun had reached its zenith. The hulls of their ships would be filled with women, children, horses, livestock, and whatever else they could steal. They were expert sailors and ferocious warriors.
Asger had been the captain of a longboat that suffered the very great misfortune of raiding a village when a company of knights were present. The knights cut down all but three of them. Asger and two of his crew were put into chains and sold to a merchant house. There was always a demand for good fighters in Torikai, especially if they were exotic. And Northmen, with their flowing blond locks, bushy mustaches, and tall, lanky frames were always bizarre and interesting to the crowds.
There was no slavery in Torikai, but there were also no prisons. Depending on the offense, criminals were penalized by fine, corporal punishment, banishment, a period of servitude, or execution. Debtors and their families were forced to work until their debts were paid. Those guilty of violent crimes usually received either execution or servitude in the pits. Asger and his crew were Northmen, and so obviously guilty of murder, rape, and pillage. They were each sentenced to twenty years as gladiators, and would fight as many matches as they were told to. In theory, once they completed their twenty years they would be free. But no one ever lasted that long. Every match was to the death, and most new gladiators (especially the debt servants) died in their debuts. About one in thirty lasted a year.
Asger had made it six so far. His crewmen were long gone, but the Northman captain was still here. The commoners and wagon drivers and shop keepers who attended the pits loved him. He was easily the second most popular gladiator in the city, trailing only Varca. He only fought in the pits, of course. You didn’t waste a popular entertainer like him in the Arena where he would be mowed down by the minotaur.
Leiznam sat back and looked the gladiator over. He was tall and muscular, standing six and a half feet. His long blonde hair was wild and uncombed and went halfway down his back. His mustache was braided. Grey eyes stared back into his without effort. The man had a wolf skin draped about his shoulders and was bare chested. A dozen scars marked him. He looked every inch the savage. The rats and even many decent people loved it. Countless wealthy women paid good coin to spend an hour in his bed. Cavin had even argued that he should be retired as a gladiator and instead put to work in the pleasure house they had for female clients. Personally, Leiznam found the man about as appealing as a rabid wolf, but that didn’t matter.
Asger bowed, proving that even a savage could learn manners given enough time. “How may I serve you, master?”
“Tell me Northman, how would you like your freedom and a chance to return home?”
Asger’s eyes narrowed. “The only freedom a gladiator ever gets is death.”
“Usually that’s true, but there are always exceptions. Nunc.”
Leiznam used a negation to cancel out an invisibility spell. Lying on the table where he was seated a sword was revealed. It was a bastard sword almost as long
as Asger was tall. There were runes etched into the steel blade and the sword gave off a clear golden aura. Leiznam heard the barbarian suck in a breath. He took two quick steps forward and reached out a hand before stopping himself. Asger looked at him, pleading.
“Go ahead, it’s certainly not for me.”
He snatched it up and held it in both hands. The gladiator stepped back from the table and put it through some practice swings. Leiznam could hear the blade whistle as it cut the air.
“Magical weapons are very difficult to create. You mundanes have no idea just how rare they are. Most mages can’t create permanent magical items other than wands or rods. Only mages with a Talent in Evocation can create such. And even then, the item must be of exceptional quality, the mage must cast numerous spells over days or weeks and exhaust large quantities of mana, and if there is even the slightest mistake the item will be consumed, and all the effort wasted. The more powerful the item you attempt to create, the more likely failure is. No more than one attempt in ten is successful. Given the level of difficulty, most evocationists naturally prefer to focus on items they can use such as rings, amulets, and bracelets. So, despite all the demand, it is most unusual when weapons or armor are enchanted. Most often it is done as a personal favor or for a fortune in gold.”
Asger stopped swinging and held the magical blade out before him. He was staring at it the way a man might stare at a beautiful woman lying naked.
“I understand nothing of what you said. But this is a treasure beyond price.”
Leiznam chuckled. “That does sum it up.”
“Did you make this for me?” Asger asked, sounding hopeful.
“No. There is no one in my guild with a Talent in Evocation. That sword was the property of a very foolish lord who thought he could ignore the debts he ran up with us.” Visiting nobles always assumed they could get away with that. But in Torikai debts were always paid, contracts were always kept. “We offered to let Varca use it, but he likes his axe. We’ve simply held on to it until now.”
“Are you giving it to me?”
“Give? Certainly not, but there is a way you can earn it. As well as your freedom and some gold.”
A knowing smile crept over Asger’s face. “Who is it I have to kill?”
XXX
Belle was on her knees when the wooden sword slammed down viciously on her forearm
“Ow!” She cried out, there was no way a hunk of wood could do her any actual harm. But it could certainly sting!
“That’s enough!” Restes shouted. “You’re going to break her arm. I’m amazed you haven’t already the way you beat on her.”
Nen shouldered her weapon with an amused grin. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it, she’s tougher than she looks.” Nen blew her a kiss. “Aren’t you, my pretty?”
Belle rubbed her arm and stood. “Why are you letting her abuse me?” She asked Restes. “Isn’t my master paying for you to train me?”
Restes shrugged. “Your master is getting his money’s worth. She is very skilled and motivated, though I have no idea why. I couldn’t do better.”
Nen gave him an appreciative nod of her head.
“Why are you doing this, anyway?” Belle asked. “The tournament’s in three days. Do you think you can turn me into a decent swordsman in that time?”
Nen snorted a laugh. “I might manage it if I had three years.”
“Then you’re just doing it because you’re an evil bitch?”
That got a much bigger laugh out of Nen. “I’ll admit I like that you can take a real beating. It excites me to know I can really go all out with you. There’s only ever been one other person I could do that with. But I am trying to at least drill a couple of the absolute basics into you. It’s not much, but it’s all I can do in the time we have.”
“Why do you care though?”
“Maybe you’re just my type.” Nen ran her tongue over her lips.
Belle shuddered. “I think I’ve had enough training for one day.”
Nen waved as Belle left. “I’ll step on you later.”
XXX
Waldo returned from his trip to the market with a cloth sack in his hands. Alice was in their quarters waiting for him.
“Did anything happen, darling?” Alice asked nervously. “You didn’t run into Melissa, did you?”
“If I had, you’d already know it. You’d have felt raw terror through the bond.”
“Why did you have to go back out today anyway?”
“It’s because I want to ask a favor of you.”
“What darling?”
“You like preparing food for me that I enjoy, don’t you?”
Alice looked at her husband in surprise. “Well of course, I’m always happy to make you something tasty. Did you have anything special in mind?”
He handed her the sack. “Here, I bought five pounds of onions. Could you slice them really, really thin for me?”
“Five pounds? Onions last for a while, you don’t want me to prepare all of them right now, do you?”
“Yes, I do! They’re my absolute favorite and I want to gorge myself.”
“Since when? You’ve never mentioned you like them before.”
“Well I do, I’m crazy about them.”
“How do you like them prepared? Boiled? Fried? Sautéed?”
“Oh, I like to eat them raw. But I need them sliced really, really thinly, and I want all of them right now.”
Alice narrowed her eyes and looked at him suspiciously. “You’re planning to eat five pounds of raw onions in one sitting?”
“That’s right.”
“Because you love them that much?”
“Yes, I can’t get enough of them.”
“You wouldn’t be asking me this for a different reason, would you? Like, oh I don’t know, because you’re hoping this will make me cry and you can get my tears to make more of your stupid love potion?”
Waldo gasped and looked hurt. “Alice, how can you even think that?”
“Because you’re holding a glass vial in one hand a little scraper in the other.”
He shoved both hands into the pockets of his robes. “No, I’m not.”
Alice’s eyes turned into slits. “Okay, darling. If you really love onions that much…” She took one out of the sack and quickly removed the outer skin. “Here.” She held it out to him.
Waldo frowned. “You haven’t sliced it.”
“Just eat this one like it was an apple. If you do, I promise to slice all the others as thin as you like. I mean raw onion is your favorite food, isn’t it darling?”
Waldo rubbed at his nose. “Uhm, you know, I’m not really that hungry.”
“You just said you wanted to gorge yourself. Here.” She put it an inch from his face.
He turned his head to the side. “Ah, I’ve changed my mind.”
“Well I insist!” She pushed him down to the floor and tried to force the onion into his mouth.
XXX
Belle was in the room next her master’s. She was resting and caught off guard by a sudden sense of panic and dread coming through the bond. Belle put her ear to the wall that separated their quarters and could hear the voices next door.
“Alice! Stop!” Waldo cried out.
“You said this is what you wanted, didn’t you?”
“All right! I admit it! I lied, I don’t want this!”
“Well too bad! Now open your mouth!”
“No, please! It’s horrible! I can’t stand the taste! Don’t make me-”
“I don’t care! You said you couldn’t get enough! I’m going to give it to you until you throw up!”
Belle could hear master gagging, and there was revulsion coming through the bond.
Belle shook her head. “Girl, that’s just nasty. At least wash up first.”
Chapter 22
Training
When Waldo woke up the following morning, there was still a faint taste of onion in his mouth. Some foods were most definitely meant
to serve as a garnish and not as the main dish. However, during the horrors of yesterday’s events Alice had shed a few tears. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the onion he chewed, or out of sheer rage, but he’d wound up getting four whole drops. Enough to make two doses. He had acquired the other necessary ingredients in the city’s herbal shop. Waldo was a bit tempted to brew up some of his rabbit variant love potion, but seeing the unexpected results with Melissa made him a little cautious. He imagined slipping some to the queen, and her suddenly demanding he wear a giant rabbit outfit and hop around for her. On second thought, maybe it would be best to wait until he had a specific plan in mind. So long as he has Alice’s tears he could cook up a batch whenever he wanted.
The Rabbit Great And Terrible Page 21