The Consuls of the Vicariate amob-2

by Brian Kittrell

  They crested the last hilltop before the Heraldan Channel, and Laedron could see a number of masts rising above the roofs lining the water. “Seems the blockade’s been lifted.”

  “How can you tell?”

  Laedron pointed at the masts in the distance. “The flags. I recognize the Cael’Brilland banner, but not the others. I do know they don’t belong to the theocracy, though.”

  “Well, you know what they say.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Where there’s a Cael’brillander, keep a watch on the keg.” Marac laughed.

  “Are you sure? I could have sworn I heard that before, but it was said about a Reven.”

  Marac poked him. “Ah, Lae… they’d be right about that, too.”

  21

  The Lives We Lead

  Brice followed the boulevard to the Ancient Quarter, taking note of the spectacles he saw along the way. The people had already begun their peace celebrations, and the entire city seemed to boast a pleasant, happy aura. Jubilant relief showed in the faces of every man, woman, and child he passed. Every cart was full of goods and the merchants handed out baked rolls at no cost to anyone who wanted one, including Brice. When he reached the entrance to the Ancient Quarter, he tossed a couple of the rolls into a bush, unable to stuff any more into his stomach.

  Arriving at the former residence of Vicar Forane, he spotted a militia guard standing post at the front door. “Have you seen Collette?”

  “Who?” The guard swayed a bit, probably from an ache in his feet after standing guard for quite some time. “I don’t know any Collette.”

  “The servant girl who resided here,” Brice said. “What has become of her?”

  “Ah, yes. You may want to speak with Commander Wilkans outside the gate.” The guard pointed at the portcullis behind Brice. “I remember mention of a girl, but I don’t know where she went. I only know that she’s not here.”

  Brice turned and walked to the nearby militia headquarters. After passing through the front entry, he ascended to the third floor and knocked on the heavy wooden door still bearing Master Greathis’s name.

  “Come in,” a muffled voice said.

  Opening the door, Brice glanced at the boxes and crates all over the room. “Master Wilkans?”

  “Yes. Come, have a seat.”

  Brice sat in one of the two empty chairs in front of the desk. “Moving things around?”

  “Master Greathis’s things. I’m preparing them for shipment back to his relatives in Falacore.”

  “I won’t waste your time, then. I seek Forane’s servant girl. Her name is Collette.”

  “And what, pray tell, for? She’s suffered greatly at Forane’s hands, and I’m not inclined to let anyone trouble her any further.”

  “I want to thank her for what she’s done. She was just as important as the rest of us in revealing Forane’s plans and stopping the Drakars.” Brice tried to think of something better because Wilkans looked unconvinced. “I won’t cause her any suffering. I swear it.”

  “You’re a friend of that sorcerer fellow, aren’t you?” Wilkans asked, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, you were here just the other night helping us. Very well.” Wilkans leaned forward and scribbled on a scrap of paper, then handed the paper to Brice. “Go on the boulevard west of the Ancient Quarter and take your third right. There you shall find House Steadfahl.”

  “House Steadfahl?”

  “Aye, a manor house, and you will have trouble missing the sight of it. She comes from a wealthy, influential family. Pity that her father passed while she was imprisoned in Forane’s house. Double the torture in my mind.”

  “Thank you,” Brice said, rising and heading for the door.

  * * *

  Brice found the mansion with little difficulty. The house consisted of two wings attached by a great hall through the center which ran parallel to the street. Two massive chimneys stood at the far ends, and smoke billowed out from them. He stood at the wrought iron gate and tried to summon his courage. It won’t get any easier than right now. What’s the worst she can do?

  The creaking of the gate set his nerves on edge, heightening his anxiety. He only hoped that he could reach the front door before anyone saw him from one of the second-story windows. Relieved at reaching the awning without any apparent notice of his arrival, Brice rapped on the door. He quickly groomed his hair, then spit in his hand and used it to wipe away any dirt he might have had on his face.

  Brice threw his hands back down to his sides when the door opened. “Evening, sire. Might I speak with Collette of Steadfahl?”

  The butler, his nose fixed permanently in the air, asked, “And what business have you with her?”

  I’ve come all this way and gone through all this trouble to be stopped by a man wearing a tight suit and wielding a snobby accent? Brice considered whether he should be polite and ask again, or if he should demand her presence and state in a clear and loud voice that he wouldn’t be insulted by the likes of a butler.

  Before he could decide on how to respond, Collette appeared at the bannister above the butler and said, “Let him in. He’s no trouble.”

  No trouble? I guess that’s better than ‘an unbearable pain.’ The butler stood aside, and Brice entered the house.

  Collette was dressed in all the finery of a young noble. She wore a dress made from silk or some equally fine material, gold and silver jewelry, and sparkling shoes that drew Brice’s eye. “Miss Steadfahl-”

  “After what has passed, call me Collette, but I don’t know what to call you.”

  Thinking back, Brice realized that he’d never told her his name. “Brice Warren of Reven’s Landing.”

  “That will be all, Percy.” The butler bowed, and Collette descended the stairs. “Reven’s Landing, you say? I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of it.”

  “It’s a small village in the west of Sorbia.”

  She smiled. “A week ago, revealing such would have landed you in a jail to rot.”

  “Then, I guess I’d better be glad it’s not a week ago. I only came to thank you for what you did.”

  “You thanked me already.”

  “Yes, but we were in quite a hurry. I just wanted to tell you that before I leave, and I wanted you to know that we all-Sorbians, Heraldans, Falacorans, and all the rest-appreciate the favor you did for us.”

  “Think nothing of it. You did a service for me, so we’re even.”

  “For you?”

  “Yes, of course. You got me out of that house, out of the clutches of that terrible woman. I’m free again because of you and your friends.”

  “Then, we’re even.”

  “What will you do now?” Collette asked.

  “We must go to Lasoron.”

  “You just said that you’re from Sorbia. Why Lasoron? Won’t you return home?”

  “One of our party has some unanswered questions, and he seems to think the answers are there.”

  “Then I wish you luck in your journey,” she said, turning to the stairs. “I appreciate your stopping by.”

  “That’s it?”

  She looked back. “What do you mean?”

  “No favor? Not even a kiss?” Brice stared at the floor. “I was always told that knights were supposed to get things like that.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You’re a knight?”

  He bobbed his head, and she turned back to him. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes in anticipation of a kiss.

  “Ouch!” He reeled from the slap.

  “There. Now you have something to take with you on your journey.”

  “Did you have to hit me so hard?” He rubbed the side of his face.

  “This is no fairy tale, and you’re no knight in shining armor. You think I would go around kissing any man who fancied me? My father met his end for doing just that!”

  “I’m sorry if I offended-”

  “I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but assume nothing more.”
<
br />   “Then I will only say that I’m glad you didn’t turn us over to Forane. Good day, miss.” He turned and opened the door.

  “Wait, Brice. I’m sorry. I was too harsh with you.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know how to feel. I miss my father, but he caused me insurmountable grief. That’s not your fault, and you don’t deserve my ire.”

  He didn’t know exactly what to say in reply. So he waited for her to speak again.

  “Here,” she said, slipping an iron ring off her finger. “I bestow upon you this ring, a symbol of my favor.”

  He took it and gave her a deep bow. “M’lady.”

  “Be careful out in the wide world, Sir Brice. If you should find yourself in Azura again, pay me a visit and tell me of your travels.”

  “Of course.” He smiled, then went through the door and closed it behind him.

  This knight business is hard work, he mused, the sting of the slap still fresh on his cheek. I couldn’t resist seeing her one last time, though. Maybe we will meet again.

  * * *

  Laedron and Marac entered the Shimmering Dawn headquarters, and Laedron noticed that the long table had been filled with a feast-a variety of fresh vegetables, meats, and desserts. Brice had returned sometime earlier, and he was busy indulging himself, along with Piers and Caleb.

  “Are we invited?” Laedron asked.

  Around a mouthful of food, Piers replied, “Dig in.”

  Marac sat and grabbed a cut of beef from a serving platter. “We have much to thank you for, Master Piers.”

  “No, no. We should be thanking you. If not for you, we would still be lurking in the shadows, biding our time until the army could reach us.”

  “That was your plan?”

  “We suspected for quite some time that the Heraldans would be unable to summon the assistance of anyone other than the Falacorans.” Piers popped a slice of tomato into his mouth. “It would have been bloody, but the Falacorans would have been forced to retreat.”

  Marac shrugged. “You sound rather confident of that.”

  “You think it would have gone another way?”

  “I saw the battle to the north, and both sides were nearly annihilated. The Sorbian army would have had its hands full for years, and that’s if they could set a siege.”

  “Perhaps, but we have no need to worry about such things now.”

  “Yes,” Laedron said. “Fenric should be close to Morcaine by now with the terms of peace if he hasn’t arrived already.”

  Brice looked up from his plate. “We can only hope.”

  “What did you go do, anyway?” Marac asked. “What in the heavens could you have to do here that doesn’t involve the order?”

  “I had to say goodbye to someone.”

  “Who?”

  “A girl named Collette.” Brice took a bite of mutton and chased it with some wine. “What? You think I’m incapable of doing something without your watchful eye?”

  Marac glanced at Laedron, then said, “No, of course not.”

  “Good,” Brice said, rising. “See you in the morning.”

  Having finished his meal, Laedron stood once Brice had left. “I’m going to get some rest, too, if I can.”

  “Goodnight, friend,” Piers said.

  * * *

  An hour or more passed, and Laedron lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Why can’t I sleep?After two whole days of being awake, I don’t tire? What sort of cruel joke is this?

  A knock on the door broke his train of thought. He sprang out of bed, opened the door, and saw Valyrie standing in the darkened hall outside.

  “I was wondering if I could come see you for a while,” Valyrie said.

  He opened the door the rest of the way. “Certainly. Come in.”

  “I’m anxious about the journey,” she said. “I’ve traveled with Da before, but never outside the country.”

  “It’s nothing major,” Laedron said, closing the door behind her. “I can see why you might be nervous. I was nervous when we left Sorbia. But the feeling will pass.”

  “I’m glad that you think so. The churning of my stomach says otherwise.”

  “It’ll pass. Trust me.”

  She smiled. “You’re having trouble sleeping again?”

  “You can tell?” he asked, letting out a laugh.

  “We could talk for a while if you want. Maybe that will help.”

  Laedron was willing to try anything, so he nodded. “Do you think the war-”

  “I’d rather speak personally.” She sat beside him. “We’ve all talked at length about the war and the Drakars. I would prefer a change.”

  “All right.”

  She folded her hands in her lap. “Tell me about Ismerelda.”

  “Ismerelda?”

  “Surely you know of whom I speak.”

  “Yes, yes. Of course. She was an Uxidin and a gifted sorceress. Taught me much of what I know of magic.”

  “Could you describe her to me? I’d like to get a mental picture of her.”

  “Fair skin and slender, long golden hair, and a remarkable beauty. Centuries old, yet eternally youthful.” He tried to remember her the way he’d seen her in the boarding house in Morcaine. “She always had a close eye to detail, and she spoke, walked, and dressed as a noble would.”

  “Did you desire her?” Valyrie asked.

  Laedron tried to swallow the massive lump in his throat. “What do you mean?”

  “Plainly, did you want her?”

  “I… well, I…” He had seen that look in another woman’s eyes. It matched a gaze his mother had given him before, and it always resulted in silence and stuttering until Laedron finally came clean with the truth. “I did have an attraction, but it could not have been. Though she appeared young, she was far older than I was. Though I felt a physical attraction, I would never have pursued anything with her.”

  “Had she been younger, would you have considered it?”

  Laedron shook his head. “Why speculate on things that do not matter?”

  “I only ask to understand you better.”

  “Very well,” Laedron said, sighing. “If she’d been younger, I still wouldn’t have tried for her hand.”

  “Why?”

  “For starters, we were too different, and knowing that she was Uxidin, our life together would have been riddled with confusion and hardships. Uxidin are immortal, Val; I would have grown old and died while she would have remained young and beautiful forever. A long, cruel torture for both of us. Now, will you tell me why you ask?”

  “I worry.”

  “What about?”

  “I’ve grown close to you, but strange things are happening to you. My book tells of strange rituals, and it’s unsettling.”

  “What does your question have to do with that though?”

  “Jurgen’s spell restored your body-made you perfect, in fact-and you’ve not been able to sleep at all. What if the spell has done more than that?”

  “Plainly, Val,” Laedron said. “Tell me what truly concerns you.”

  “Just what you said. If his spell has made you immortal, then what concern would you have for me? How could we be together if you had to watch me grow old?”

  “Nonsense. Your book never said I would live forever.”

  “Not all things are written in books,” she said, a tear dripping from her eye. “I feel like everything and everyone I care about will be snatched away. Just like the story of Azura and Tristan, a forbidden love that was never to be, a love destroyed by immortality and that awful torment of which you spoke.”

  “It won’t happen like that.”

  “How can you be so sure? You said it yourself. One of us ages; the other does not. A cruel torture?”

  Laedron grabbed her by the shoulders. “We need not get ahead of ourselves. No need to worry yourself over questions to which we do not have the answers.” His words apparently having little effect, she continued to sob until h
e said, “We’ll find a way.”

  “What do you mean?” She wiped her face with her sleeve.

  He thought about what Marac had said, especially the part about knowing for sure if it would work with a woman before committing to anything permanent. Looking into her face, Laedron saw the woman he loved. The fire behind her eyes gave him a glimpse of the fighting they would do in the years to come, but he didn’t care because when he held her close, he knew that the tears flowing down her cheeks would wash away his mistakes. He knew that, regardless of what happened, he wanted to be near her for the rest of his days, as long or as short as they might be. Laedron resolved that he would always give it his all.

  “Whatever may come, we shall find a way to get through it. This is no different.”

  She reached for him. He took her in a tight embrace and didn’t let go until morning.

  22

  Order Restored

  After another night without sleep, Laedron roused Valyrie from her slumber, and they joined the others in the common room.

  “Good news,” Jurgen said.

  “Yes?”

  “The consuls have come to the conclusion that we have been too harsh on our Shimmering Dawn chapter.” Jurgen opened a scroll and read aloud, “Be it known to all that the Order of the Knights of the Shimmering Dawn, having shown bravery, courage, and loyalty to our prosperity and safety, shall be reinstated to the highest place of honor. Be it further recorded that the Heraldan chapter of the order shall henceforth enjoy the status of Most Holy, and it and its membership shall forevermore be protected by this declaration.”

  “That sounds good, I suppose,” Brice said, then turned to Laedron. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  Marac rolled his eyes, and Laedron chuckled and said, “Yes, that’s a very good thing. It means Master Piers and your friend Caleb will be well taken care of in our absence.”

  Piers could hardly contain his excitement. “Thank you, Vicar Jurgen. You’re very kind to have pressed them on our behalf.”

  “It was the only proper thing to do after the way you and yours have been treated,” Jurgen replied, offering his hand. “Besides, I wasn’t forced to press them too harshly. They are well aware of your good deeds and your dedication. One other thing.” Jurgen glanced around at the common hall. “Beyond the status, possession of the Shimmering Dawn citadel is restored to your keeping, Master Piers.”