Bloodmines: Cheryl Matthynssens

by Cheryl Matthynssens

  “What is more important than any of that?” Alador asked curiously.

  “My brother needs my help,” Sordith said evenly with a slight smirk. “That is what family does.”

  Alador and Sordith had talked for a couple of hours about possible tactics and strategies to accomplish a successful assault on the bloodmines. In most areas, Sordith had agreed with with Alador’s plan of action,but he had also offered up a few ideas that Alador would never have considered.

  As he left the trench, Alador realized that for the first time since coming to this city that he did not feel frantic. He had confidence in the plan that he and Sordith had created. Sordith had divulged the fact that Luthian had ordered Henrick’s death. They planned to use that to move everything forward.

  Alador reconsidered his stance on Henrick. He was still angry with his father, but he could now see that at least some of Henrick’s actions had been prompted by his own need to survive in the harsh reality that Luthian had created for so many.

  The one thing that Alador had not managed to let go of was the manipulation of his mother in order to provide another recruit for Luthian’s army. Connected to that was the fact that Henrick had not told Alador of the High Minister’s breeding program.

  Alador made his way through the city and up the tiers, but this time with a new perspective. He studied the side streets and the winding path to the upper tiers with the eye of a would-be attacker rather than a defender. Silverport was made for defense, but it had its flaws. It was tightly packed, so if a tier could be taken, higher tiers could flood with panicked citizens. This would hamper any higher tier efforts at defense.

  In response to this, Alador had no doubt that Luthian would sacrifice however many citizens he thought he had to to hold the city. Any assault on Silverport would either need to be swift or accept a huge loss of those not able to fight, unless – and they had considered this - Sordith could safely offer many of the first through third tier citizens sanctuary in the vast spaces of the mines.

  Neither he nor Sordith had any concern for the mages on the fourth and fifth tiers. They deserved any losses they sustained.

  When at last he reached the council tier, he was not surprised to be waved straight through. He was dressed in the garb of a mage, as his uncle preferred, and he had been announcing his true identity as a Guldalian at every tier check.

  By the time he had reached the High Minister’s front door, there were four guards waiting for him. Alador smoothed his deep blue robes as they approached him. “Have I committed some crime that I am greeted at my Uncle’s by armed men?” Alador’s voice dripped sarcasm as he smiled coldly at them.

  Alador knew he made a striking figure; he had dressed for that purpose. His deep blue robes were trimmed in silver. His black cloak held an embroidered blue image of Renamaum and was also trimmed in silver. The black boots were shined to the point he could see his own reflection. The knee length robe was split and his leather pants were also polished so they shined. He casually put both hands out to show he was not armed. Well, at least not by any material weapon.

  “Your Uncle feared for your safety and sent us to escort you to him,” one of the Blackguard stated curtly.

  “Ah, may I point out that this would have been far more helpful in the lower tiers than on my Uncle’s own steps?” Alador smirked. “I doubt I’m in danger here unless it is from my Uncle himself. Somehow…” he drawled out, “I don’t see you protecting me from him.” He grinned at the guardsman and strode into his uncle’s manor.

  The four guards fell into step as Alador made his way down the long hall towards the ornate door to his uncle’s office. The hall was deathly silent, save for the echo of their steps. He eyed the intricate carvings and smiled before opening the door. He did not knock, as he knew he was expected.

  Luthian did not rise from his seat as Alador entered the room. Two of the guards stepped in with him and shut the door. Alador noted their posting by the doors. Given the tension he could feel, he decided a subtler approach to his uncle might be appropriate. He crossed the large room and moved to the desk; he placed one hand on his heart as he bowed low.

  “Good day, Uncle.”

  Luthian looked him over very slowly while laying down his quill. He was clearly assessing his nephew’s current capabilities. Alador knew that, other than being thinner and a bit pale, he had recovered much of his strength. Luthian must have come to the similar conclusion as he sat back in his chair.

  “How are you healing?” Luthian’s question sounded genuinely caring, his voice sending a soft compulsion to answer that Alador did not miss.

  “Physically, the wounds are healed. I’ve lost a bit of tone from my time in bed.” Alador straightened up and clasped his hands behind him, letting them rest beneath his cloak. He stood before Luthian’s desk as if he stood before the Blackguard’s High Master.

  “And mentally…? I understand that Aorun resorted to torture.” The distaste in Luthian’s measured tone was evident. The High Minister was watching Alador closely.

  “He did. I fear that I may suffer yet awhile with bad dreams and feelings of apprehension.” Alador nodded thoughtfully.

  “You are stronger than I have given you credit for, and you obviously have a great deal of power at your disposal.” Luthian leaned forward and the chair creaked in the tense silence that followed. He held Alador’s gaze for a long moment. “Power you hid quite well, I must admit.” Luthian’s words were soft but their cold edge showed his displeasure.

  “I did hide some of my capabilities from you,” Alador admitted finally looking down at his boots as if in shame. “However, I don’t think even I knew what I was capable of doing.” Alador slowly looked up, his face schooled carefully in a mask of pain. “A man in desperation will sometimes overreach. I understand that the spells I cast to save my life could have killed me or just as easily left me mindless.”

  Alador had decided that the best tactic was to offer as much truth as he could. His uncle expected lies, so the truth might catch him off-guard. “In fact, it nearly did.” He dropped his gaze again, as if this fact was weighing heavily.

  Luthian nodded. “You left angrily the last time we spoke. I would ask where you stand today? After all, we did swear there would be… “truth” between us.”

  Luthian’s reminder struck Alador as patronising and two-faced. He wanted to scoff that he very much doubted that Luthian ever told the whole truth to anyone; but instead, he appeared to consider the question very carefully.

  “You’re the High Minister, my elder, and my uncle,” Alador stated curtly. “As a member of the Blackguard, I am pledged to carry out your commands.” He raised his eyes to meet his uncle’s. “Personally, I dislike you. You use people as if they are objects. However, I don’t have to like my commander to serve him.” He kept his hands tightly clasped behind him in an attempt to maintain his composure.

  “Interesting… May I ask what has brought this change about?” Luthian was eyeing him with a penetrating gaze. He stood slowly and leaned forward against his desk. Alador felt a gentle pressure of magic, and he let Luthian in. He had nothing to hide but Mesiande, and she was secure behind walls of magic. Luthian could not breach them unless he knew specifically what to look for, a defense his father had taught him during their half days.

  “I find that I’ve nothing left to live for besides my service in the Blackguard. Aorun took Keelee and killed her father. He took what pride I had in my heritage and used it as a reason to torture me. It seems to me, moving forward, you are the only one who has ever had some measure of honesty.”

  Alador took a measured breath and continued to speak slowly. “I’m as much Lerdenian as I am Daezun.” He drew himself up as if proud of his next words. “AND... I am a Guldalian. I cannot trust my father and wish no further association with him other than when absolutely necessary. It’s time that I accepted my circumstances.”

  Alador took a deep breath and spoke through gritted teeth. “If you don’t mind,
please get out of my head. It’s taking everything I have not to lash back at the intrusion.” He had been careful to make sure every word was truth.

  Luthian looked a bit taken aback. He released the spell of seeking he had subtly cast, sat back and eyed his nephew. “And if I asked you to cast the storm spell in Daezun lands…?” His words held scheming calculation.

  Alador knew that this was what Luthian wanted most and chose his answer carefully. “If I felt it was for the greater good... of the people, in the long run,” -Alador paused - “I would cast your spell.” His soft answer held just an edge of conditions attached.

  “Are you sure?” Luthian pressed. He stood up and moved around the desk to look down at Alador. Though Luthian was now beside him, Alador did not shift his position.

  “I’d only have one request,” he replied. “I would make it as your nephew and not as a soldier under your command.” Alador’s eyes dropped in deference.

  “Curious. What would that be?” Luthian sounded genuinely surprised.

  “I would ask that you do not make me cast it in a way that would harm Smallbrook. Despite my casting out by the elder council, my siblings and my mother still reside there. They did not reject me, and I wish no harm to them.”

  Alador knew he was daring to show weakness, but he calculated that Luthian would latch on to it as a way to manipulate and manage his nephew. He knew that Luthian looked for an edge and rather than let him find a real one, he hoped this would suffice, leaving him some room to maneuver.

  “And if I agree to this - that I will never ask you to harm the family you were raised with - then what?” Luthian’s tone held the triumphant edge of one close to a personal victory.

  Alador turned and bowed low as he spoke, both arms out wide, palms towards Luthian. “Then I am ever your servant to command.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Luthian took in Alador’s newly subservient attitude, his eyes following him as he straightened up out of his bow. This submissiveness from his nephew was welcome and seemed sincere. He did know that such traumatic situations combined with the heavy use of magic could change a man, even twist the soul and character. However, he also knew that Alador had swiftly learned to play the game.

  “You will work with me as I desire? You will do as you are requested? All I have to do is save this Smallbrook and its people from direct harm of life or limb?” Luthian was pressing the issue. It was a small price, one village for all that he needed to unite the island under one rule. If necessary, there were other ways to apply pressure to those in Smallbrook without resorting to direct harm.

  “All that you request of me, I shall honor in exchange for this one small boon,” Alador agreed. He eyed his uncle with hopeful expectation and let it show in his eyes and face.

  Luthian stroked his chin, apparently considering but more to have time to observe the boy and assess his sincerity. He had to admit, he liked this change in the mageling; but at the same time, the High Minister had not risen to the top of the tiers by accepting people’s words at face value. “I agree to your terms, but know this: if you are playing me false, I can assure you that my vengeance will start with Smallbrook.”

  “I would expect no less," Alador admitted. "I know firsthand the anger one can feel when those you trust break faith.” Alador’s response was filled with heartfelt pain and seemed genuine to his uncle.

  Luthian considered this carefully. “What of Keelee?”

  “The greatest betrayal of all…. I found her with Aorun, no doubt sharing my every move,” Alador snarled.

  ‘So the girl had been playing both ends; interesting,’ he thought. Luthian had known she was quick and intelligent, but he had not expected her to align with Aorun.

  “I see.” Luthian nodded. “Are you well enough to return to the service of the Blackguard?” He knew that Alador still had things to learn if he was truly going to realise his maximum potential by Luthian’s side as his personal weapon of mass destruction.

  “Before I return to the duties of the Blackguard, I ask permission to travel into an unoccupied area with Henrick to practise this spell where I can do no harm.” Alador gravely met Luthian’s gaze. “It would be most unfortunate if I lost control of such a storm here in Silverport.”

  “Yes... Quite…” Luthian considered this carefully. “You would travel with Henrick despite your distaste for him?” He gave a small snort of disgust at the thought of Henrick. He did not trust his brother, and he was definitely wary of this sudden change in his nephew.

  “He lies,” Alador snapped. “At least you don't hide your intentions or desires from me. However, he's good at teaching me my limits, and how to overcome them. I need to learn how to create a storm to the point that it doesn't suddenly take a life of its own. He can do that, despite being a fire mage.” Alador’s voice was cold and there was a trace of derision when he stated the word ‘fire’.

  As he watched his nephew, there was one thing that was certain: the disdain for Henrick was not feigned. However, the rest seemed somewhat rehearsed to Luthian. He was pleased to have successfully driven a wedge between the father and son. It would make the death of his brother easier for the boy to take. He also hoped to have this boy at his right hand one day in his quest to unify the island.

  “I will write the order now. You can deliver it to the High Master, and then make your arrangements to travel. I want you back in full service in a fortnight. Understood?” Luthian would not move until he had that clear understanding with his nephew. He watched the boy closely.

  “Understood,” Alador said and nodded. “A fortnight should be plenty of time to figure out what I can do and where additional study is needed.” Alador’s slight smile softened the hardness in his face. Luthian realized that this hardness was also new. Perhaps Aorun’s assault had turned things in his favor. He smiled grimly: he might even have thanked the Trench Lord, had he not gone and gotten himself killed in the process.

  Luthian moved back around his desk and slipped into his chair. He pulled the fine parchment from his drawer and swiftly wrote out the order. He could feel Alador’s steady gaze. He rolled the order and lit the candle to seal it, absently watching the red wax dripping like blood onto the page. He pressed his ring into the wax and looked up. Alador had not spoken the entire time, and still stood as he had since entering, hands clasped behind his back.

  He paused when he looked up at Alador. Perhaps now was the time to ease the tension between them, he thought. “I know, Alador, that our last meeting was a rude awakening, and that I delivered it unkindly. I do, however, hope that we can mend that meeting and return once more to the close association we had before I discovered you were playing me for a fool regarding your strengths.” His voice was silky smooth as he held the scroll out for the boy to take.

  Alador moved forward and took the scroll slowly from Luthian’s hand. His eyes met Luthian’s with regret. “I should not have done that, Uncle. I trusted Henrick. He's my father, and has guided me throughout my life, and more closely since my powers manifested.” Alador tucked the scroll into his belt. “I played you false at his advisement. I assure you, it won’t happen again. I hope that you can find it within you to forgive my naive trust.” Alador looked up at Luthian hopefully.

  “You are young… and he IS your father.” Luthian sighed and waved in dismissal. “We all must learn the lesson at some point that most people can only be trusted if their goals are the same as yours. The moment those goals are at cross-purposes, they will betray you.” Luthian’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Live for the moment, Alador. Find pleasure in soft flesh, a good drink, and - most importantly - the feeling of the power flowing through you.” He smiled at the mage, knowing that many of the perfect world ideals that Alador had come to Silverport with were just illusions that could never come to pass.

  “Surely, Uncle, you want more than this from life. What goal motivates you to do more than sit in luxury feasting yourself into slothfulness?” Alador eyed his uncle intently. “You ar
e always on task; I know there is more to your goals than a pretty woman in your bed.”

  Luthian examined Alador but could not hear any intended insult in the question. “I suppose that a larger task does prevent indolence.” Luthian smiled and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Come, I will show you.” He rose from the desk and led the way across to a small door in the office that he had never opened for his nephew. He was taking a risk, given his wariness of this change in Alador, but the boy was a major factor in achieving many of his goals.

  Luthian unlocked the door and eyed the torches that immediately flamed up in response. The room was a simple one. It held a large square table on which a topographical map had been built. He had paid a great deal of medure for an especially adept artist to render the entire island for him in raised detail. The man had been given unlimited access to his stable of lexital to make an aerial view of the lands. Luthian had been quite pleased with the results.

  Alador moved to the table as Luthian moved around it. He reached out and touched a rising mountain top with amazement. “This is our lands from the air?”

  Luthian smiled with pleasure. It was good to see someone admire his efforts. “It is. Paid handsomely for it, I can assure you. Took the man a full two turns to add every detail.” He ran a finger lovingly along the edge in front of him.

  Alador examined the map with a scrutiny that Luthian admired. He could see the intelligence behind the youth’s eyes as he took in the connections between Lerdenia and the Daezun lands. “Now, so I make no error, where is this Smallbrook of yours?” He asked casually; he already knew where it was but did not want Alador to be alarmed that he was so familiar with his home of origin.

  Alador surveyed the map running his fingers across the uneven surfaces and tracing known landmarks. Finally, he pointed to a dot along a small river about midway down the east side of the map. Luthian then traced the river into the mountains to be certain what peaks fed it. He moved slightly north. He ran his finger in circle around the east side of the mountains, and everything north of where his other finger had stopped.