“I don’t like the sound of that,” Daena said. “Your nola is so loony though who knows what you were sensing.”
Aarlen was studying him with narrowed eyes. Wren also seemed contemplative.
The silver-haired Baronian sitting next to Corim looked at him with intense violet eyes. “This Garmtur you mention what is it exactly?”
He glanced at Wren. “I just call it that, it’s the name for the ability, Garmtur Shak’Nola; savant of reality in the common words. I was just told that’s what it is. Normally, I can just see how everything is connected—and if I want I can pull on those connections… I just think of them as threads. I can see patterns in magic and people. Like when your friend Corim came in… I saw he was connected to Aarlen somehow… like he has a piece of her in him.”
Senalloy leaned back against the couch, her gaze shooting first to Aarlen and then Corim.
Bannor winced. “I don’t have much control of the Garmtur. I can affect things by pulling on their threads. I can, by pinching off certain threads, disable a creature’s magic.”
“Whoa, that’s like what I can do!” Ziedra spoke up.
“Every time I hear Bannor talk about his power,” Wren said. “I can’t help but think that the Garmtur really isn’t a specific savant talent, but all of them rolled up in one. He can do things that I do when he wants to. I’ve seen him do things that only savant specialists can do—he teleported us once like a savant of spaces.” She shook her head.
“He does disturbing things,” Janai remarked. “I shall remember to the end of my days that incident with Vidar and Tyr. That was… gruesome.”
“Now, I had a lot of help by Wren and Daena,” he said.
Aarlen was looking at Dulcere who had an incredulous expression. “Just because they are young don’t discount their power. I made that mistake once.” Her gaze went to Beia.
The Myrmigyne smiled at her.
Dulcere rubbed her throat. She drew a breath.
“Your mother?” Wren said with a furrowed brow.
“Her mother is Marna Solaris,” Aarlen said.
Wren’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“To be honest,” Aarlen said. “I am not terribly fond of relying on youngsters either. However, I have learned recently it is courage and stubbornness that often gets the job done. That, all of them have.”
“Milady,” Radian said frowning. “You know, we are here in the room.”
“Indeed,” Aarlen said with a nod. “My point is a lack of experience and knowledge causes mistakes however unintentional. Youth adds an unavoidable randomness to things that older more stayed minds find uncomfortable.”
“I don’t know,” Janai said rubbing Deana’s shoulder. “I’m not so young, I kind of like the unpredictability. It’s more exciting.”
Senalloy rolled her eyes.
“I am thinking that we’ll have some elders to keep the youngsters focused,” Aarlen said, mostly to the two other elders in the room. “I am envisioning perhaps commandeering Luthice and Alloy, or perhaps—” Her lip curled. “Loric.”
Radian frowned. “You don’t need to make such faces when speaking of my father.”
Aarlen sighed. “Habit.”
“I’m wondering if I can commit to this,” Bannor said. “I want to help, but things back at home have recently been in chaos. Much as I am not fond of all the fuss. I have a certain duty to fulfill.”
“My parents will cripple him and my sister will strike him dead if he messes things up,” Janai translated. “She’s pregnant, so postponing the wedding isn’t really an option.”
Corim raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, some people actually have relations before getting married,” Senalloy remarked nudging the burly warrior. “You ought to try it some time.”
The man flushed scarlet.
Aarlen sighed. “Well, for the nonce, there isn’t a whole lot to do. I am identifying my resources. When I have some specific lines of investigation to pursue that’s when I’ll need everyone. The Baronians are lying quiet right now, no doubt doing scouting of their own.”
“Do we know where they’re at?” Wren asked.
“That is quite a coincidence,” Wren said.
“Lady Dulcere,” Bannor said. “This ship of Rakaar’s—is it intact? Some place where I might examine it?”
“I see why you like Corim’s theory, auntie,” Ziedra said.
“It doesn’t have to be functional,” Bannor said. He looked to Aarlen. “I have to be back home for dinner in a few bells, but I might be able to help you do a couple things before then. Locate your Baronians, and give you a general idea where this Genemar thing is. Would that help?”
Aarlen’s eyes widened. “Tremendously.”
“Tracking is what I do,” Bannor answered. “Even things that are hidden,” he glanced at Daena. “Everything in the universe has a thread associated with it. People and objects leave behind phantom threads if they have enough contact with something. It sounds like these Baronians searched hard on that ship, and occupied this way-point place you were speaking of. Something is bound to have left behind a trace I can use.”
“This sounds fascinating,” Corim said. “Everything leaves a trace you say?”
Bannor nodded. “When you put your hand on that glass, you leave a fingerprint. That tiny little bit is enough for me to know things about you.”
“That alone is a very powerful ability,” Senalloy remarked, looking to Aarlen. “It sounds similar to what some Kriar can do with enhanced time senses.”
“I’d like to go too,” Ziedra said. “These Baronians have powerful magic, I might be able to learn something about them.”
“If Ziedra goes, I go,” Radian said. He grinned and rubbed his chest. “Well, after I dress.”
“Dulcere, why don’t you just take them all,” Aarlen said. “They’re used to working in a group anyways.” She looked around. “Unless there’s one of you who doesn’t want to go?”
“I’m interested in going if I can get out of this party dress,” Janai said. “I’m not saying anything will happen, but I can’t run three paces in this.”
Ziedra looked down at herself. “A pretty good idea. I’m not dressed for anything but a party myself.”
“Go retire to the antechamber there—all four of you,” Aarlen said, gesturing to Daena, Janai, Wren and Ziedra. “I’ll have proper clothing sent in directly.”
The four women rose and filed toward the doorway.
Radian rubbed his bare chest. “I just need my shirt and b—”
Aarlen gestured and he was wearing shirt and boots.
The gold man looked down. He grinned. “Okay, never mind.”
Aarlen snapped her fingers, and made a hand sign and servants rushed out through the hidden alcoves, Bannor presumed to get the clothing for the women.
“Are you confident of this tracking mechanism?” Corim asked Bannor, dark eyes intense.
He pushed out his lower lip. “Friend, nothing in life is certain. I think it’s worth taking the time.”
Senalloy stole Corim’s glass a
nd took a sip from it. She indicated Bannor with her chin. “Trust this man,” she told Corim. “He’s lives by his word.”
Bannor gazed at her. “And how would you know that, Milady?”
“Your eyes,” she said. “You have the same eyes as Corim. He couldn’t lie if he tried. His tongue would shrivel out of his head.”
The other warrior sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”
He turned to the gold woman. “Because she’s teasing. It’s her way. Just like you have your way.”
Dulcere raised an eyebrow.
Bannor saw the man hesitate, holding himself back from saying something he would regret. Having lived with Sarai for some time, it was now familiar to the times that Sarai baited him. Answering that question was certain to get him in trouble. Apparently, the man was savvy enough to know it.
“Please, don’t be that way,” he said in a pleading tone.
The Kriar crossed her arms.
Aarlen watched the exchange with mild amusement. “So, Bannor, the nobility are something new to you are they not?”
“They are a trial, milady. I love my wife-to-be very much, so I am dealing with it. We’ve been through life and death together, so I’ll be damned if politics and snobs will separate us.”
Beia chuckled. “Well said. So, when is this wedding?”
“By the light of the second full moon from now. I have to blow some silly pipes and dance around…” He sighed. “It’s going to be agony.”
All of the women were grinning at him now.
Only Corim and Radian seemed to empathize.
“She’s worth it though, I bet,” Radian said. “If she’s half as pretty as her sister.”
“Very nice,” he confirmed. “I would fight the hordes of Hades for her… I actually did… Hecate’s pet, Rankorhaaz… What a pain he was to kill.”
“The arch-fiend Rankorhaaz?” Corim repeated with a raised eyebrow. “You killed a demon-lord from the abyss?”
Bannor shrugged. “It was him or us.”
“Gads, man, how you can you be so blasé about it?” Corim wanted to know, dark eyes wide. “Whole armies have been unable to stop that thing.”
“At the time, I was serious about it. Since then, I’ve faced so much worse that I’ve just became numb to it. The fifth or sixth time you fight a god, you just start gritting your teeth and hoping your luck holds.”
Corim just stared at him. Beia raised an eyebrow.
“It sounds like you’ve lead an adventurous life,” Senalloy remarked. “Or have all the bad things been recent?”
“All within the last ten fortnights. I am still recovering.” He rubbed his chest. “I have a hole here where Odin impaled me on his spear. So, if I don’t sound eager to rush off on another quest—that’s why.”
Corim rubbed his own chest. He stood up. “Can I shake your hand?”
Bannor was a little taken aback but he rose. “Sure.” He held out his hand across the table. Which Corim clasped firm and hard.
“I just want to make sure we’re friends,” Corim said. “If you’ve got that kind of tenacity, I never want to be your enemy.”
Bannor laughed. “My fiancé says I just have a high pain threshold.”
Corim clasped his other hand on top of Bannor’s. “Indeed.” He let go, and nodded to Bannor and set himself down. “Mataya’s teachings tell us that pain is a crucible that purifies the spirit. We must all feel some pain in order to truly appreciate pleasure.”
Bannor sat down again. “To be certain, it sure is nice when it stops hurting.” He looked to Aarlen. “Thinking of hurting. I don’t want to sound mercenary, but Koass mentioned there would be pay involved in providing assistance to this effort.”
Aarlen put a hand to the side of her face. “Did he now? And what kind of pay were you expecting?”
He let out a breath, glancing at the others. He was glad Janai and Daena weren’t here. “Milady, I’ve never had much of anything. My Father was a wage farmer. The Baron doesn’t pay the ranger corps but a pittance. My wife-to-be is a princess, I hoped to get enough to buy her a decent ring for our ceremony.”
The white-haired matriarch stared at him, she looked like she’d been hit with a hammer.
He didn’t understand her reaction. Was it so outrageous?
“Yes, Aarlen, not everyone is greedy,” Beia said.
“He’s precious,” Senalloy said, grinning. “What color are your wife’s eyes?”
Bannor focused on the Baronian woman. “They are not unlike the color of yours, Milady, save they glow somewhat; an elven trait. What does that matter?”
Senalloy brushed a long nail back and forth under her chin. “You don’t know much about jewelry do you?”
“I confess that I do not,” he admitted.
“What color is her hair?”
“Again, much like yours, milady, though she has a bit more gold in hers.”
“Sapphire is the traditional wedding stone for the elves,” Corim put in.
“I think Aarlen can handle a wedding ring, Bannor,” Beia said, grinning. “Better to let someone who knows jewels to help you pick it out though.”
“I was going to get Wren to help me. She seems to know that sort of thing.”
Beia and Radian laughed.
He frowned at them. “Why is that funny?”
“Guilders know the value of a jewel,” Radian said, grinning. “But value is not how you select a lifelong keepsake.”
“How about this,” Senalloy said. “Since she and I share so much in the way of eyes and hair.” She removed one of her rings. Bannor realized that she was actually wearing one or two on every finger. “This is a rainbow-hearted sapphire. Quite a rare find actually. It will need to be sized and a proper nuptial engraving placed in the band, but I think it should satisfy her and any in-laws.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Bannor said. “I hardly know you.”
Senalloy smiled. “We will know each other. If you are a friend of Corim’s.” She rubbed the man’s thick shoulder. “You are a friend of mine.” She held out the ring.
“If you are certain,” he said.
“I am positive.”
He took the ring. “Thank you, milady.” He said examining the ring. It did seem to be a well crafted and beautiful piece, a platinum band creased with many intricate patterns and encrusted with tiny jewel chips. The main setting was a large clear slightly-blue gem that seemed to absorb the light in the room into its many facets making a rainbow colored glow shimmer in the heart of the jewel. His Garmtur sensed magic within the metal and the central gem. The magic wasn’t powerful, but he felt its threads fingering his aura. “This is indeed a beautiful gift, Milady. I’m certain Sarai will love it. What does the magic do?”
She smiled. “It’s a mood ring. It reflects the mood of the wearer. It is at its best when on a happy bride’s finger.”
Radian leaned over a looked at the ring in Bannor’s palm. “That’s a winner for certain. Elves really go in for craftsmanship and unique traits.”
“That was very nice, Senalloy,” Corim said.
She wiggled her eyebrows. “I know.”
Dulcere sighed.
“I suppose I shall have to replace that with something of equal value,” Aarlen said, eying the ring. “That was very—generous.”
Senalloy shrugged. “You don’t have to trouble yourself. I collect such things.” She wiggled her fingers, making all the jewels sparkle.
Aarlen tapped her toe and looked at the door where the four women had gone. “What is taking them so long?”
“They’re girls,” Bannor said. “The less they have to put on, the longer it takes.”
“Not all women are that way, Bannor,” Beia said with a flat expression.
He shrugged. “Live around elves, you learn patience. Trust me.”
Corim grinned and Radian
smiled.
Only a few moments later the four ladies filed out of the inner office dressed for traveling. Both Janai and Daena had brushed out and braided their long hair, no doubt contributing to the time factor. They all wore similar outfits, a smoke gray long-sleeve blouse that had the falcon-crest stitched on it in gold, black close-fitting seamless breeches that came below the calf, and soft-looking lace-up boots. Wren and Ziedra had simply tied their hair back in tails.
Aarlen had her arms folded as the four strolled out. They all were laughing and chatting about something to do with some noblemen that Daena had recently encountered in Coormeer.
Wren looked up at Aarlen. “We’re ready.”
Dulcere rose gracefully from her seat. She looked to Aarlen. “Are you coming?”
The white-haired elder pursed her lips. Her gaze went to Bannor and then swept toward Daena, Wren, and Ziedra. “I better.”
Beia stood up. “You don’t expect trouble do you?”
“No,” Aarlen said, drawing out the word. She paused, silver eyes narrowing. She put a hand and the wide silver band on her arm. Bannor knew just by glancing at it, the metal object must be her shaladen because of the incredible number of the threads linked to it. “Just the same, I think I should go.”
Radian, Corim, and Senalloy stepped out onto the floor by Aarlen. Bannor stood, and went to stand by Beia.
Dulcere glanced around.
There were a host of nods. Bannor’s heart picked up tempo. He took a breath and nodded.
Almost before he finished the gesture, the threads of the cosmos were spinning around him…
* * *
Chapter Six
Traces in the Void
« ^ »
When Bannor talks I have to pretend to myself that he’s just bragging or making things up…He says things with a straight face that just make my skin go cold. After being through what he’s survived, I’m convinced a lesser man would be a gibbering lunatic…
Reality's Plaything 3: Eternal's Agenda Page 9