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Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

Page 126

by Mark E. Cooper


  Jihan threw off his armour and shirt to bathe. He hurried as he could, but it wouldn’t do to greet any visitor filthy from the parade ground let alone a priest of the God. When he was done he pulled on a blue silk shirt, Ahnao liked him in blue, and then checked himself in the mirror. Everything was fine. He hurried to the women’s quarter where he was sure he would find Ahnao entertaining Gideon. He knocked upon the door separating the women’s quarter from the rest of the citadel and it opened immediately to reveal Aleeza. She smiled at him and stepped back to let him in.

  Jihan inclined his head. “I thank you Lady.”

  Aleeza smiled her thanks of the courtesy and closed the door. He knew the fortress intimately including the women’s quarter, but he waited for her to lock the door and escort him. As expected, she showed him to Ahnao’s rooms. He entered to find Gideon seated opposite his consort by the windows. The sunlight streamed in to dazzle Jihan, but then Ahnao always dazzled him.

  “Welcome to Malcor, my Lord Bishop,” Jihan said as he crossed the room.

  Gideon climbed to his feet and made the sign of the God—the circle drawn in the air representing the cycle of birth to rebirth. “Bless you and your home my lord.”

  Jihan inclined his head in thanks for the blessing and after kissing Ahnao chastely on the cheek, he followed Gideon’s example by seating himself.

  “I was just saying that this war in the north might very well spill over into Deva. Perhaps your lady would be safer at Athione.”

  “We have discussed that very thing,” Jihan said. “If things go badly, which they very well might, Ahnao has agreed to visit Purcell at Elvissa. Didn’t you my love?”

  “Yes my husband,” Ahnao said demurely, but the look she gave him said there would be repercussions for bringing her agreement up again.

  Jihan continued. “I think Elvissa is the more prudent destination, especially when considering who and what we are fighting.”

  Gideon raised an eyebrow. “You think Athione would fall, even though it has bested the Protectorate once before?”

  “Julia is the reason—the only reason—that Athione still stands. If Navarien reaches here then in my opinion she will already be dead. Without her aid, Deva must succumb. It will take a year, more probably two, before the lords are brought to heel but it will happen.”

  “What of the new army?”

  “As to that, I believe they will inflict heavy casualties on the Hasians and perhaps even slow them, but stop them? No. The kingdom has been ill led for too long to be able to withstand the might of the Protectorate. Had Pergann done twenty years ago what Keverin did with his library seven years ago, we might have had enough mages to hold the sorcerers off. As things stand today, we will need a miracle.”

  “I will pray for one,” Gideon said seriously.

  “Pray hard. Pray very hard, and hope that Julia survives.”

  “Well,” Ahnao said breaking the sombre mood they had all fallen into. “Tell us all your news, Gideon. You said something about a man named Demophon?”

  Jihan started at that name. Demophon was a sorcerer, the very one who had kidnapped Julia in fact, but he died at Mathius’ hands in Devarr last year.

  “Yes Demophon,” Gideon in a musing tone. “It was quite a shock learning that he was alive. As a man of the God I must decry violence in any form, but I admit to some unworthy thoughts where that man is concerned. Mathius was particularly upset, and of course the others heard and well, the obvious happened.”

  “Please go on with your story father,” Ahnao said eagerly. “Was Julia very angry? I wager she was.”

  “No…” Gideon said thoughtfully. “No she wasn’t. She was afraid if anything.”

  Ahnao gasped in disbelief. “Julia’s not afraid of anything!”

  “That is where you are wrong, my child. Everyone fears something, whether it’s a person, or the loss of someone close to them, there’s always something. Julia has many things in her past that she feared, but each time she overcame them despite it. If you asked her, I’m sure she would deny her courage, but that does not change the fact she has it.”

  “What was the cause of the fear in this instance?” Jihan said bringing Gideon back to the original question.

  “When Mathius was told Demophon lived he was enraged and swore an oath. When my lord Keverin heard it, he swore also and Lucius with him. Julia fears for her lord and friend’s lives.”

  “The oath?”

  “Demophon dies or I do. Or something like that,” Gideon said with distaste. “Julia tried to reason with them. Demophon is one sorcerer among hundreds and all are protected by Navarien’s legion which is triple the strength of any legion that has gone before it, but they would not be moved.”

  “Sergeant Mikkel said he believed the clans would be engaging the Hasians soon,” Jihan said imagining the scene. Magic clashing in counterpoint to swords; horses neighing and rearing. Men shouting and dying, others shouting and slaying. A grand spectacle was war, and a cursed waste. “I hope they don’t forget the greater threat while pursuing vengeance against this one man.”

  “That doesn’t seem likely. Keverin is no man’s fool.”

  “I know that, but hatred warps good judgment.”

  Gideon accepted that with a nod. “Tobiah was intent on leaving the shamen behind when I was last there. I do not know if they persuaded him to relent or not. Brian was of the opinion that Tobiah or no Tobiah Julia would be going. I find myself agreeing.”

  So did Jihan. Julia was not born Devan, but she had embraced Deva and its ways fully. She owed a debt to Kerrion and his people; he had no doubt she intended to pay it with her magic.

  “Julia had me bring you a present my lord,” Gideon said producing a package from beside his chair. “I have one of these for each of the fortresses plus one for the palace in Devarr.”

  Jihan took the package from Gideon carefully. The priest had handled it with exquisite care so he did the same as he unwrapped it. Ahnao came to sit next to him on the couch so that she might share the surprise.

  Finally, it was revealed.

  A mirror? There was no frame with it and apart from some engraving on the glass in the corners it was just a plain mirror. Jihan recognised the engraving of course. At the top right hand corner was the crescent moon of Deva. Diagonally opposite was the mountain representing Elvissa. At the top left the crossed fists of Athione, and diagonally opposite at the bottom right was the Eagle of Meilan. Nowhere was the keep and hammers of Malcor shown.

  “It’s—” Jihan shrugged and looked to Ahnao for help.

  “Nice?” she said unhelpfully.

  Gideon clapped his hands and laughed.

  “What?”

  Gideon couldn’t stop the laughter, every time he tried he saw Jihan’s puzzled face and away he went again. Jihan looked at Ahnao and shrugged helplessly, he had no idea what had come over the man. Finally, the laughing died away to chuckling and then to snorts and head shaking.

  “Forgive me, I beg you my lord, but your faces,” Gideon chuckled again but this time he subsided quickly. “A mirror seems a poor gift I know, but in reality it’s worth—” Gideon frowned, “I don’t know what it’s worth actually. There are only five like this in existence anywhere. It’s priceless!”

  He looked at the mirror again. The engraving was excellent, the workmanship better than he had ever seen in fact but priceless? The glass of the mirror was no different to hundreds of others; all glass was expensive but not as much as Gideon seemed to think.

  “Is there something I’m missing?” Jihan said turning the mirror over.

  On the back was another engraving this time of five interconnected rings? Jihan had no idea what it meant.

  “Ah I see you found it my lord. Lucius and Mathius made the mirrors for each of the fortresses, but Julia wanted a way to reach you while in Camorin. Your mirror is the only one with a fifth engraving.”

  “This is a scrying mirror?” Jihan said in wonder. “But I have no magic.”
r />   “I was told that no magic is necessary my lord. The mirror will take care of it. If you wish to contact someone all you need do is touch the correct engraving. The other mirrors are to be taken to the fortresses and one to the King, but Julia has her own little mirror with her at all times so that you might speak with her.”

  “Touch it, that’s all?”

  “That was what I was told my lord. Lucius tried to explain it to me, but I must confess he lost me after the words touch it and,” Gideon said with a smile.

  Jihan laughed for politeness sake and laid his hand upon the circles. They warmed at his touch and a chime sounded. The reflection of his startled face disappeared to show a hand seemingly covering the view in the mirror. The picture was very dark but he heard Julia’s voice clearly as it emanated from thin air as the chime had done.

  “It works, Lucius!”

  “So it would seem. Perhaps you should see who is calling?”

  “Oh!”

  Jihan smiled as the picture lightened to reveal Julia looking at him with concern.

  “Sorry Jihan, I had the mirror in my pouch. You can hear me can’t you?”

  “I can see and hear you perfectly. This is a wondrous gift, and not just for me. You do realise what this could mean for Deva?”

  “Absolutely!” she said grinning with her excitement. “On my old world we take it for granted that we can talk to people on the other side of the world just by dialling a number.”

  Jihan didn’t understand what numbers had to do with anything but refrained from asking.

  “—will never be like my old world and that’s a good thing in my opinion,” she was saying.

  “Why? I should think being able to talk to people would make strife less likely between them.”

  “You would think so wouldn’t you? But it doesn’t seem to be that way. Wars on my world are hard to describe Jihan, but let me just say this. Our weapons could destroy the world. Not just a city, we have done that, not just a country, but every country.”

  Her world must be terrible indeed. Thank the God she was here now and such things did not exist. Even magic, powerful as it was, could not do what Julia said was done on her old world. He thanked the God for it. Mortain would be unstoppable with such weapons. While he was thinking these thoughts, Ahnao was chatting with Julia. Gideon was sitting quietly occasionally sipping his wine content to listen.

  “…every day. I could hardly keep anything down,” Ahnao was saying.

  “Sounds like morning sickness,” Julia said frowning. “Stupid name really. A lot of women have sensitive stomachs all through pregnancy and not just in the mornings. How is it now?”

  “Better, but not completely well. Helsa said not to worry about it, but she still gives me a tonic in the mornings. It tastes horrid but it does work.”

  “That’s good. I wish I was there with you, Ahnao, but I can’t leave here. Tobiah’s determined to drive Navarien back with his warriors alone, but Keverin says that won’t work. He’s really worried. He says we shouldn’t attack unless we know we’ll win.”

  “He’s right,” Jihan said breaking in. “Never do anything that does not lead to victory. Head on against the legions is a bad idea at any time, but the plain has little to recommend it for battle. The terrain does not lend itself to creative tactics. Tobiah is only doing what has always worked for the clans in the past. They have never had to fight anything like a legion before. Tobiah has no idea what he’s getting into.”

  “I know,” Julia said worriedly. She looked away for a moment and nodded to someone out of view. “Take a look at this, Jihan,” she said and the view shifted crazily as she turned the mirror through a rough circle.

  Jihan’s stomach shifted uneasily as the view moved. It was a very strange sensation. He was concentrating on the image so hard it felt as if he was moving and not the image. What he saw made his stomach worse. The clans were riding haphazardly northward. They looked as if they were enjoying a pleasant ride to the fair! By the God, didn’t these people realise what would happen if they hit Navarien like that? They must. Maybe Tobiah was trying to give the sorcerers a false impression. He hoped so. Finally, the mirror steadied again but this time Keverin was looking at him.

  “I wish you were here, Jihan.”

  “So do I,” he said with feeling. “I could send Echion with two thousand—” he broke off at Keverin’s head-shake.

  “Don’t do that. The clans wouldn’t like it but that’s not the reason. I think you might need those men very soon.”

  Jihan’s heart sank. “I thought this might happen. Come home Keverin. Forget Demophon, and come back! If we add Athione to Malcor’s guardsmen we may have a chance to stop them at the border.”

  Keverin shook his head. “I swore an oath.”

  “Forget him I say!” Jihan cried in frustration.

  “I swore an oath,” Keverin said with finality.

  Jihan knew Keverin would not be moved now. In truth, had he been the one to swear the oath instead of Keverin, he would have answered the same. Knowing that did not make it any easier to hear.

  “Mikkel has orders for Marcus,” Keverin went on quietly. “Marcus will take his orders from you, Jihan. If you think my guardsmen should march to reinforce your border you have only to use the mirror and Marcus will bring them. I trust you my friend. My home is in your hands now.”

  Jihan looked silently at his friend then nodded slowly. “I understand. Good hunting.”

  The mirror went dark.

  * * *

  Interlude IV

  Talitha listened absently to her new chamberlain in the comfort of her solarium. She lay back on one of the many couches placed throughout the glass room. The sun beamed down heating the glass and air within. She loved the heat and spent a lot of her time here. Through the bay windows, she could see her garden bursting with colour and tended by her slaves. She smiled as her thoughts turned to her beloved. How she wished Ranen could be here with her but that was not to be. He had a war to fight. The messenger should have reached him by now. She could hardly wait for his return letter.

  “…of Deva,” Nekane finished saying.

  Talitha frowned as work intruded upon her thoughts. It was time that Deva began trading again. Japura had always been far seeing and peaceful within its borders. Deva on the other hand prospered and declined in cycles that seemed to follow such vagaries as which particular king sat upon the throne, or which lords served him. Her servants in the lower palace were the Matriarchy’s secret she knew. The Matriarch was perfect and ruled by the will of the God, but it was the lower palace that ran Japura for her. The Matriarch made a decision, and the lower palace implemented it. That was how Armina had decreed it should be, and for thousands of years it had been.

  “This new Devan King… what is his name?”

  “He is called Gylaren. King Pergann died without an heir, Matriarch. Gylaren—then Lord Meilan—was crowned King after a vote was taken among the lords.”

  Talitha shook her head. How could they expect their kingdom to prosper when they chose a king in such a haphazard manner? She shook her head in pity. How did voting prove who was the best person for the position? It didn’t of course. She felt somewhat sorry for the Devans. They had struggled to build a kingdom from nothing and had succeeded in such a short time, only to have it decay and fall through bad decisions and leadership. Deva had only a short history—merely a thousand years. It was barely out of infancy compared with Japura, and yet it was already failing.

  “What is his proposal?”

  Nekane fumbled with his pile of parchment searching for the answer.

  She sighed. How she wished Jarek were here. He never needed to search for answers; he knew what she wanted to know without needing to be asked, but he was very frail now and spent his days reading and sleeping. Wanikiya said he might live for another few years if he rested and did not exert himself, so that is what Talitha had ordered him to do. He spent his days in bed half buried under piles of reports fr
om the lower palace now. He seemed happy enough delving into the archives looking for answers about Tindebrai, and that was all that mattered. She would visit him later, she decided.

  “King Gylaren requests swords from us, Matriarch,” Nekane said finally.

  “Of course he does; everyone wants our steel,” Talitha said in annoyance. “What is his proposal?”

  Nekane flushed. “In exchange for twenty thousand good quality steel blades, he proposes the sale of certain holdings in Deva. Two mines in the Elvissian Mountains. One is an iron mine, but there is also a small copper mine.”

  Hmmm, the copper would be useful. The glass-makers were always complaining about the price of it. They used it in some manner to make green glass. The offer was a good one. Those mines had once belonged to Japura before Deva was founded. They were ceded in exchange for a spell to ensure the Matriarch’s fertility. That spell was still doing its job today—the Matriarch was never barren and all her children were daughters. It was a good offer, but there were difficulties with accepting the proposal.

  “Send a counter proposal. Instead of ownership, propose a partnership. I do not want to become involved in reopening those mines, or in the actual managing of them day to day. It would be too costly, especially when they do not use slaves.”

  Nekane nodded and wrote something down. “I will suggest our percentage be paid in ore. That way we should receive more in the long term. We don’t have the swords on hand, Matriarch. I will offer half now and half to follow at the end of the year.”

  “Good Nekane, very good.”

  Perhaps he would work out after all. Nekane gathered his notes and scrolls then bowed to her before leaving. Talitha lay quietly thinking of the babe and Ranen. Behind her, she heard the door open and admit someone. She looked to find a worried looking Wanikiya approaching. Talitha swung her legs down and stood to see what was wrong.

  “Jarek has made a turn for the worse. I think you should come, Matriarch.”

  Talitha’s face froze and she nodded. Together with Wani and her guard, she made her way toward Jarek’s apartments. She knew this time must come, but now that it was here, she couldn’t imagine a life without Jarek. What would she do when she just wanted to talk? Nekane was learning Jarek’s duties, but he was no replacement for the father of her heart. Ranen was far away, without Jarek she had no one to talk to. He was father and friend, the only one she had.

 

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