by D. H. Aire
“Staff, mnemonic ditties?”
:Better than moronic ones of the periodic table.:
“Uh,” Gallen said, “I’m really hungry.”
George glanced at the door, which opened apparently on its own. “Lord Je’orj,” Me’oh said pausing near the entry. “Perfect timing, dinner’s just being brought to the table.”
Coming out he saw the Faeryn archmage pushing in Lonny’s chair for her. He blinked, “I think I preferred you in the horse blanket.”
“You do not like?” she replied.
:Oh, my, oh, my. Neigh, neigh, our horse of another color.:
Lonny was wearing Cathartan livery, to wit, Raven’s, which was softer than the traditional fabric and being his foster-daughter’s is was too small, which accentuated her… :Most definitely.:
George coughed, “You look lovely.”
His horse smiled. :Such a beautiful smile.:
Se’and watched him, “Do sit down, Milord.”
“Uh,” his stomach growled. “Et tu?” He sat down at the head of the table as Balfour and Me’oh came down the stairs and his guests and his growing household sat. He shook his head and set his staff beside it. The computer stood upright on its own and softly glowed. There was a new front door, unvarnished, but stout and a new gate, firmly barred.
Spiro walked the top of the wall, muttering a song that reinforced the estate’s wards. He paused sensing George’s questing thoughts. With a shake of his head, on he marched, passing short bow bearing dwarves, hammer and axe slung across their backs. Within the courtyard the detachment and the dwarven guard, not on duty ate. The steeds and the mounts they had brought ate their oats and drank at the trough.
The food was passed and George loaded up and ate. He blinked as Gallen and Aaprin and the boys ate ravenously until Me’oh whispered to them. They ate with more etiquette after that, Andre and Juels, who seemed as hungry as his apprentices, followed suit.
Raven padded up beside him and he bent and whispered, “There is a seat at the table for you.”
She shook her head and he asked for her plate. He filled it and set it down beside him. Raven lapped it up.
Juels paused to wipe away an errant tear as she sat beside Fri’il, the crib with Ri’ori was sleeping in it was set behind them.
:George, admit it, you’ll miss this.:
He carefully made no reply as Se’and, Fri’il, and Cle’or all stared at him.
Chapter
29
“Best we do this under cover of night,” Abernathy said as dinner ended.
Aaprin nodded.
“Is there anything you’ll need?” George asked.
“Nothing, Milord. The Academy has all we’ll require.”
“Archmage Abernathy has proposed a plan for getting them to the Academy safely,” Cle’or said.
“And that would be.”
“My Faeryn mages are waiting for a signal. All we need do is cross the street, they’ll get us safely to the Academy from there.”
“What kind of signal?” George asked.
“Something that will distract anyone who means us ill,” the Archmage answered.
“Oh, that’s easy,” Lonny said.
“It is?” Balfour said, chuckling.
“Of course,” she said, rising from her chair. “We’ll ride out.” She hit the clips Raven used and her livery dropped.
:Yes, quite the distraction.:
George winced and Revit and Terus found their eyes being covered. Aaprin gaped. Gallen turned his head, “Over here, my friend.”
“Hmm.”
Abernathy reddened. “I suppose something like that will do.”
George said, “What do you mean I need to buy a new saddle?”
“We didn’t have enough sufficiently large for those beasties, so we coopted yours on behalf of the Legion, Milord,” the sergeant said, Herald Varian mounted behind him, fearing to be left behind.
“But, I, uh, don’t really enjoy riding bareback,” George replied. His mount glanced back at him and shook her head.
Se’and patted his back as Lonny knelt for them to mount, “Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t mind one bit.”
With a groan, he mounted, Se’and climbing on behind him. Lonny rose to her feet. Raising his staff high, it abruptly blazed as the mounted legionnaires rode up behind him. The dwarves opened the gate and George chuckled, “Charge!”
Out they rode.
The mage frowned from the window that gave him a good view of the manor’s gate. Then the human mage charged out with the legionnaires at his back. “You’re not supposed to be going to the palace tonight!” He pulled the charm stone from his bag and sang out the spell, which made it flare, signaling the next that things were going awry.
On a roof top a young mage felt his leg grow hot. He hastily opened his bag and saw the flaring stone. “By the Empress!”
Grendel soon heard one of his mage’s cry out, “He’s on the move.”
“He can’t be!” Grendel shouted with a curse. “The herald said he’s not due until late tomorrow.”
“So, you will move up the plan… you are nearly ready in any case.”
“Slow him down!” Grendel yelled, gazing out the tower window at the first tier wall of the palace. The mage with the charm, drew another and song out the spell word that sent back the signal to delay the human mage at all costs.
Spiro called down from the wall above the gate, “Look at the rats taking up the chase!” Riders burst from alleys, mage’s could be seen spell leaping rooftops taking up pursuit.
Abernathy glanced up and waited for Spiro’s signal of the all clear. He and the apprentices ran across the street and vanished.
Lucian was careful to nurse his ale. It wasn’t the watered down swill he knew from Rolf’s taproom and this wasn’t the time to get drunk. This was a finer establishment in the Sixth, one whose new owner made no move to introduce himself. The fellow’s partner was a man named Verny, who settled on a more than reasonable price for renting the private room.
Rexil’s father Grigg came over to him. “Luce, I’ve got as many as I could find. Helvetica knew where to find a few others, who have tried to bury the past better than we have.”
“Some refused at first, but their wives said they’d best hear you out.”
Oh, joy, he thought. Most glared at him, clearly unhappy to be here, yet all were well armed with the decorated hilt swords the Legion retired them.
The last arrived.
He set his cup down. “Gentleman, thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I have been approached by an elflord, who would advance your families’ station.”
That brought wary but interested stares.
He nodded.
“Who seeks to suddenly claim us?”
“I spoke with Lord Sianhiel… the Lord of my house.”
“You’re one of Sianhiel’s?!” someone exclaimed, clearly fearing worse.
“Yes… I’m… I’m heir to a cadet branch.”
“That mean we’d be beholden to you?”
“No,” he held up his disfigured hand, “I can only serve as regent to the head of my branch, who is not yet of age.”
Grigg rasped, “Aaprin?”
“Yes, my son Aaprin.”
“Beholden to a boy?”
“No… because he’s not to know about what I’m about to discuss. Lord Sianhiel will recognize your children’s liege, one of a long forgotten branch of the Summerfelts.”
“What’s the catch, Luce,” the farrier who was doing well in the Sixth Tier demanded.
“It’s a big one,” he said to well over hundred men in the well warded inn’s largest room, which he had rented for the evening and Gabriol himself had asserted would not be disturbed.
The Faeryn ushered them Underhill through one tier, then another. “But,” Aaprin said, “we’re not supposed to be able to do this.”
“Don’t let tradition limit your possibilities, lad,” Abernathy said. “It’s a matter of the Underh
ill structure you build. Faeryn dislike closed systems, better escape routes than none.”
Gallen nodded, “Works for me.”
And on they went until they arrived outside the Academy. “I must leave you here,” the Archmage said. “Remember what you experience in the Old Hall may be days, weeks, or even months, but only hours may pass here. Your master needs you to return as soon as you may. The Empress needs loyal mages and quickly… and Stenh will have the most loyal with him.”
Revit felt the door, “They’ve triple warded it.”
“Yes, getting in should prove challenging, but I suspect you’ll manage… Oh, and one more thing, for the perspective of those in the Old Hall you’re arriving at the same time they are.”
Then the old mage turned and vanished.
Gallen frowned. “Uh, we’re a bit exposed out here.” She raised her hand, “Stay close, we’re not visible any longer.”
Terus said, “Aaprin, we’re now going to be able to get in this way.”
“That’s doesn’t sound good,” he replied.
Grinning, Revit said, “Oh, we’ve a way inside. It’s finding out how to get to the Old Hall that should be challenging.”
“Leave that to me,” Aaprin said.
As they road toward the upTier gate man burst from ambush, only to fall to the hooves of the rearing steeds, which punched them through helm and chainmail. The attackers quickly fell and Lonny whinnied. The steeds raced past the Imperial Guards who had raced from the gate until they saw how the horses dealt with the attackers. They gaped, “Uh, how are we going to explain this to Captain Yates?”
“Highmage’s business?”
“Works for me,” another said as they waved the Highmage and the legionnaires past.
They moved to arrest the groaning and semiconscious as people peered out their windows, shouting to those within. The sound of racing hooves again filled the street as elfbloods and their hirelings raced after.
An old thief walked blithely across the open tier gate, dropping a line of rope as he went. He began running as the horses drew close and tossed the end of the rope to a beggar, who tied it a stone horse post. The old thief wave and a colleague drew the other end taut, hastily tying it off.
The horses hit the line and down they and their riders tumbled as those farthest back reined in desperate to avoid a similar faint.
The Imperial Guard cried out behind them, swords drawn. The riders glanced back at the unconscious elfblood who led them lost in the fore. They threw down their weapons. The ten guardsmen called out for aid.
“Mistress!” a Scryer cried, giving into his bowl.
Lady Esperanza came over to the youngster, “Yes?”
“The Imperial Guard’s taking prisoners and are in need of some mages and healers at the Fifth Tier Gate Southwest.”
“Prisoners? Who else is able to see in Lord Je’orj’s wake?”
“I’ve got mages down in the Fifth Tier.”
“Message the Faeryn, let them send help to the Guard… Who are those mages that are down?”
“Former Academy apprentices by their look.”
“Former? Who took them down?”
“Not certain, Mistress, whoever it was was well warded.”
“Keep on it,” she said, glancing at her husband.
“The elfbloods down by that gate, are they rather young, too?”
The watching scryer paled, then answer, “Too young, Mistress.”
Lord Lyai frowned. “Es, where are the older mages?”
She grabbed her bowl and filled it with water. Moved to the central table and sat. Her husband looked to his guards. “I have a bad feeling about this… Get the horses, tell them we’re going to need their help.”
Lonny whinnied sensing the welling spell just ahead of her. She leapt it, each of her bound stallions doing the same.
You must not turn back, the voice she dreaded whispered in her mind.
Why?
My old friend, he needs to get to the palace and you need not worry. This is not about dining with the Empress.
George pulled the reins to turn down the street to the next gate from the Fifth Tier. Lonny ignored him and instead race up the other way up toward the Fourth Tier instead. “Babylon!” he yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Varian cried out, “Yes, that way to the palace!”
George heard that and muttered, holding on tight, “Babylon, this isn’t according to plan.”
As Se’and held on for dear life she rasped, “Yeah, when did anything we’ve ever done gone according to plan?”
:Scan detects wards ahead.:
“Of course, there are…”
The mages signaled as the riders reached the Fourth Tier gate. The chanted spells calling fire. The human mages staff ablaze the group never slowed. The mages smiled. They rode headlong into a trap.
“Ugh, what?” the old man gasped, spell forgotten.
Sianhiel’s glowing blade pressed harder, “Now, what have we here? Since when have you been a friend of Grendel?”
The mage whispered a word with a cruel smile. Sianhiel’s eyes widened as he stabbed deep. The goblin fell dead at his feet. “From bad to worse,” he rasped, dragging the creature out as the unearthly fire that had begun to rise within the fire vanished as Sianhiel’s kinsmen rounded up Senason’s cousin, who stared at the dead goblin in the head of their house’s garb.
George saw him as the flames went out and waved. He nodded as the Highmage-designate and his escort rode past, and saw Herald Varian riding double gaping at the scene.
Senason’s kinman was prodded forward by his mage staff wielding cousins. “Go home and consider where your loyalties truly lay.”
One of the older elvin mages knelt beside the body, “This is not a trick.”
“Find out what happened to Senason’s uncle, he was a fine elflord.”
The elf nodded and he fled with his fellows.
Sianhiel shouted, “Fetch horses! We must get to the palace!”
“Ta da, as Staff likes to say,” Terus announced pointing at the statue in the park feet from the Academy wall.
“And how precisely is this going to help?” Aaprin said.
Revit grinned, went up the statue on its pedestal’s foot and shoved the right foot back and down. The base of the pendestal opened. “The founder of the Academy believed in leaving a backdoor.”
As they climbed in and down a ladder that looked as if it were new Aaprin said, “However did you find this?”
Revit said, “We got lost one day…”
“Actually, we were running from Master Donnialt, who nearly caught us… well, doing what is not important,” Terus said.
“But what is was our tumbling to the fact there is a secret tunnel of a sort out of the Academy.” They came to a deadend at the base of the ladder. “And the fact that the ward that guards it keys to Dean of Students.”
The boys grinned.
Aaprin glared, “You figured out how to copy Master Donnialt’s keys?”
Gallen laughed, “Well, it did give them better access to work their mischief.”
They gave a little bow, turned and thrust their hands against the wall, which flashed red, yellow, then green, before the wall vanished.
They walked into the Academy, which was cold and dim. Aaprin shook his head, “Now to find the Old Hall.”
“Lead on,” Gallen said.
“Um, that way then,” he said, “and if we don’t find it, we’ll try the other way.”
Revit and Terus stared at each other as Gallen chuckled, “My, you’re applying our latest lesson already…”
With the Highmage absent the mages knew they would have no better chance. They chanted the spell and the new door to the manor gate exploded.
Spiro winced as the windows light with the blazing reflection. “Uh, Bal, Lord Je’orj should be back any minute.”
Raven growled and shook her head.
“Me’oh, Fri’il, get into the cellar!”
Cle’or, sword drawn, came up behind him. “Somehow I think there’s been a change in plan.”
“Really?” Balfour said. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“He’s coming and nothing’s slowing him and that detachment of Legionnaires down!”
Grendel frowned, “We didn’t have a charm for that!”
“I don’t need one, I can see the warhorses through the main gate’s portcullis!” the mage yelled back.
There was a guard sprawled on the floor at the top of the palace steps as he order half his guards to hide themselves and kill the legionnaires. “Leave the mage to me.” They drew their bows and hid as he led the others into the interior.
A herald opened the door to the inner court. An old Imperial guard was gasping with a dagger protruding from his chest, “Your way is clear, Lord Grendel.”
“Do what you can to delay Lord Je’orj.”
“Lord Je’orj? But he’s not supposed to be here until tomorrow.”
“He’s apparently changed his mind.”
The herald gaped as the mage and his minions ran toward the Empress’s rooms.
Part III - Highmage
Chapter
30
Terhun wasn’t the trusting sort. Herald Fenryth brought tea to his room, after expressing his gratitude he pretended to drink. When the herald left, he barred the door, then fell to the floor with a thud.
He heard a chuckle outside before he rose and went to back room and woke Clawd, who was inordinately tired for some reason. Answering an Empress’s questions for hours could do that to anyone and Clawd was still only a boy, even if he now wore the clothing of an Imperial page.
“Wha’?”
“Clawd, we’ve a rat named Fenryth in the palace. I need you to fetch Lord Lyai and those scryers his wife has brought to the palace. They’re likely the only fighting force we can trust.”
Clawd blinked, “Uh, yessir, I’ll go get help.”