“I’m terribly sorry to hear that, Claw.”
He cleared his throat.
“Why’d you burn your food? I mean… what if the Poison Wolves failed and then you had nothing to eat?”
“Was a risk I was willing to take. The enemy has to know you’re willing to do anything to hurt them, even if it means killing everything you love in the process.” He smashed his fist into his palm. “Then you’ll put the fear of the great beyond in ‘em all.”
“But your strategy didn’t work in the long run, did it?” Nyset asked, trying to sound more inquisitive than judgmental.
He wrinkled his lips. “Maybe. Not sure. I reckon they’d think twice about raiding future tribes, certainly not mine. If there were anything left to raid, that was.” He snickered uncomfortably.
Nyset let out a heavy exhale. Hardwood Hold was through the last set of gates, casting looming shadows over the path. The stones making up the path were cut to resemble diamonds, each the size of her fist.
“And you said an Oracle told you to find me?”
“Mhm. Some call her a witch, others a soothsayer. Not sure what she was, certainly didn’t use the Dragon nor the Phoenix. Men from the North go to visit her for guidance and she provides it… we listen. She helped me many a time in my life. She had some power, though not sure the source. She throws the bones of a Dragon, says they tell her futures.”
Nyset didn’t like the sound of that. Was it perhaps some latent form of the old magic? Why did the Oracle help them? She had read what she could find about the old magic while in the Silver Tower, but there was sadly little written about it. It was said the old magic was there before the Dragon or the Phoenix came to be.
“The bones of a Dragon? There are no such creatures, or more rightly there’s nothing written about them in the histories,” Nyset said. You had to suspend your notions of what was possible and what wasn’t in these times.
Claw worked his lips around and Nyset eagerly watched him. “In the lore of the North, there were Dragons in a time long before there were people in the South. There’s nothing written about it ‘cause it’s only in stories, passed ‘round by campfires. Parents make ‘em elaborate for children longing for excitement, maybe.”
“Huh. Interesting…” She tapped her lips, longing to dive into researching this matter further.
They approached the last set of gates and the guards parted to let them through. There were two guards on either side of the opened gates in gleaming heavy armor. They were brandishing spears with barbed tips and heavy bucklers. They looked like the type of men who knew how to use them, well muscled with unwelcoming eyes.
“Good afternoon,” Nyset said cheerfully to one of the men, trying to soften them up a bit.
He responded by narrowing his eyes at her. Claw followed her from behind, and she swore she could almost smell his agitation wafting on the air.
Once they were a few paces through the gates and before the mouth of Harwood Hold, she continued. “What did the Oracle say to you?”
“Afraid that is a private matter, Mistress. One I’d like to keep for myself,” Claw said.
“Fair enough. I’m glad you found me, Claw.”
“Likewise.” He grinned, showing his mangled teeth.
“Please don’t hit anyone in here if you don’t like how things are going, alright?”
“I’ll try.”
A man in a leather vest sauntered up, rubbing his hands together. “I’m the horse wrangler here. I’ll take your mare for you during your stay, ma’am. Can’t bring her through the gardens anyway.”
“Alright, here you are, thank you.” She handed him the reins with a nod.
“Don’t worry, ma’am. She’ll be fed, watered, and brushed. Someone should be with you shortly.”
“Great, thank you.”
The courtyard was modest by Midgaard standards. Low square-cut shrubs ran in continuous lines along the perimeter, studded with red berries. Birds flitted in and out of the bushes, one with a plump berry held in its beak. In the center of the gardens were two identical sets of bushes cut and planted to form the shapes of squares. Within the sets of squares were smaller gardens, bursting with prismatic colors. In the center of each of the small squares were squat trees whose lazy limbs draped over the shrubs, pinked with blooming flowers.
Adjacent to the two squares were two long shallow pools, teeming with silvery fish the size of her hand. The pools stretched along the perimeter of the garden. They had narrow channels splitting off from the main bodies, supplying the fauna with an adequate supply of water. At the back of the courtyard was a bridge crossing over the gardens with a procession of arches, allowing onlookers to view the gardens from above.
“Pretty, but a shame.” Claw crossed his arms.
Nyset was equally conflicted. “Perhaps the waters cure the blind. We shouldn’t be so quick to judge, right?”
“Yeah, right, Mistress.” Claw let out a belly laugh.
“Well, there are stranger things.” Nyset snickered. “Blue light closing up wounds, for example.”
A man and a woman turned a corner, walking arm in arm on a path beside one of the stretching pools. They wore well-tailored clothing, he in bright blues and she in shades of red. They were both lean with beautifully long and flowing hair.
On the other side of the pair was a stone wall reclaimed by lush ivy reaching for an ornamental roof at the top. A few green tendrils had started curling over the roof’s apex. The couple was in quiet conversation, but failing to hide their interest in the two of them. Their responses to each other became stiff and delayed as they drew nearer, their eyes frequently darting from each other to her.
“It’s the Arch Wizard,” the woman whispered, though not soft enough.
“Think so. Heard she came from commoners,” the nobleman sneered.
“They’ll let any sort of low-born rabble through the gates it seems,” the noblewoman said, loud enough there would be no way for them to miss it.
“Even dirt can mix in with the water for a while, until it sinks back to the floor with the other mud, back where it belongs.” The man grinned at her with his chiseled jaw.
The woman laughed and brushed jeweled fingers on her chest.
“Excuse me?” Nyset forced herself from snatching the Dragon. It was a crutch. She had to learn to handle herself without the threat of violence. What kind of example would she be to Claw?
“Excuse me,” the noblewoman replied. “This is a private conversation. If I need tea or food, I’ll let you know.” She bobbed her razor thin eyebrows at Nyset.
The couple started to pass and continue their touring of the gardens. Nyset stepped out, putting herself in front of them and blocking their path. She planted her hands on her hips.
“Get out of our way, swine!” the noblewoman hissed.
“How many Death Spawn have you killed?” Nyset asked, head tilted.
“What does that—” the man started.
Nyset snapped her fingers at him. “Quiet!” she barked. “I didn’t ask you.”
His mouth hung wordlessly open. It was very likely the first time he’d been spoken to like that.
“Why does that matter?” The noblewoman raised her chin.
“How many?” Nyset asked again. She stepped close enough to the noblewoman’s face that Nyset could feel her nervy breath on her cheeks.
“I—” The noblewoman’s eyes narrowed then fell to the ground.
Nyset crossed her arms and a snicker escaped her lips. “Should be careful about who you go about insulting, especially to those who are on the front lines… letting you live this life of luxury without enduring the horrors of war.” Nyset gestured to the gardens.
Claw leaned back on his heels. “Seems these folks haven’t got any fruits. All I’m hearin’ is lots of hot air without the stones to back it up.”
The nobleman paled. Laughter came from a young girl sitting on a bench on the opposite end of the courtyard. The sound carried exceptionall
y well here, Nyset noted.
“Move, and we’ll be on our way.” The noblewoman balled up her fists.
“Ah — that’s not very polite now. Use your words…” Nyset grinned with pleasure.
The noblewoman’s sky-blue eyes bulged from her sockets. She bladed her body to get around Nyset, but she slid in front of her to prevent her from moving.
“The word… I know you know it. You can’t be that ignorant, can you?”
“Why you arrogant… Do you know who I am?” she hissed.
“The word,” Nyset shrugged. “It begins with a ‘pluh’ sound.”
The noblewoman softly growled. “Please, let us through.”
“Of course, I knew you knew the word!” Nyset laughed and met Claw’s gleaming eyes. She stepped aside, letting them pass.
Claw rammed his shoulder into the nobleman’s. “Sorry about that, accident,” Claw muttered.
The man whirled around, rubbing his shoulder, staring at him, aghast. “You bastard.” He stormed off with the noblewoman through a rounded archway.
“Commoner scum.” The noblewoman threw back. “You’ll pay for that transgression. You’ll be back in the Dirt Ring before you know it.”
Nyset sank onto a simple stone bench. It was polished with smooth edges, the stone the color of cream with pink veins. She blew out a long breath, slowing her pounding heart. It didn’t seem to matter how often she quarreled with people, the result was always the same. It left her feeling drained. It was as if the conflict had taken out a piece of her that could only be restored with a good night’s rest. “Let’s hope that wasn’t an omen of how things will go with the Earl.”
“Mm. Never liked nobles. A sad way to live, a cursed existence.” Claw put his arms behind his back and stood beside Nyset, peering out at the gardens, rigid as a gargoyle.
“Cursed? Seems like an easy life to me. Servants to tend to all your needs, no wars to fight, no worries about paying the tax collector. Your principle worries must be what you’re going to eat that day, what you’ll read… how long you’ll spend in the gardens mocking the common folk.” Nyset put her arms behind her back and stretched the tightness in her chest. She winced into the tightness, twisting her hips to stretch her sides.
“All true, yes, Mistress. But it’s a curse. Never learn how to do anything yourself. They couldn’t survive if they were cast out of this refuge. Don’t know how to be industrious and pick yourself up from nothin’.”
“Fair points, Claw. However, even in the noble class, there are surely those who haven’t taken their great fortune for granted.” Nyset shrugged. “You can’t make a generalization for all of them.”
“Perhaps,” Claw sat beside her.
They sat there in silence for a time. Nyset listened to the soft gurgling of the pools against their stony sides. She watched a pair of birds squabble over a berry in a shrub of hundreds. We’re not much different than they are, are we? She thought with a smile. The wind curled down into the courtyard, making the squat tree boughs sway. A few violet petals fell from the boughs and tumbled into the pools. One immediately sank. How long could the others stay afloat, she wondered? The petals slowly turned and turned, whirling and casting shadows on the pool’s floor.
Claw cleared his throat and stood.
Nyset heard scuffing feet approaching. She stared at the remaining petals through half-closed eyes, watching them dance and twirl in the water. She could’ve stayed there all day. She understood the gardens now. She needed to connect with nature, with something green. It was fundamental to a calm and clear mind. She made a mental note to put plants in the Silver Tower when she returned.
“Arch Wizard?” a feminine voice asked. Nyset looked up to see a pudgy man with a hairless head softly smiling at her.
“Yes?” She rose up, her legs tingling.
“The Earl is ready to see you.” The man slightly bowed, hands held over his round belly, smiling with kind eyes. It was refreshing after their encounter with the nobles. He wore silken trousers and a silken shirt, both intricately embroidered with images of the Phoenix and the Dragon. His sandals whispered to the stones as he led them through one of the archways away from the gardens.
Nyset looked back at the bench, longing to stay there. It was a place where life was simple and boiled down to the musings of a pair of petals. Some of us quickly sank and some could stay afloat a bit longer. Life was always moving, time ever changing. A wish for things to stay as they were was to wish for death. She wasn’t ready to die yet. “We all move on,” she whispered.
“What’s that?” Claw asked.
“Nothing, just thinking.”
“Mind can be a dangerous place to stay for long. Good to talk to people.”
Nyset felt a chill at his cutting insight. “Yes,” she agreed. There was something about spending time with other people that made her feel slightly less alone in this mad world, she realized.
The pudgy man shot them a glance over his shoulder, hairless brows narrowed and wrinkled.
“I’ve come to like serving you, Mistress,” Claw said.
She smiled at him, but it felt forced. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Why was the Earl expecting her? Perhaps he wanted to check up on the land he’d given her. Maybe he wanted to praise her for leading the defense against the Death Spawn attack. Why hadn’t he shown his face that day?
“By the Phoenix,” Claw whispered every time they turned another corner into a new marbled corridor or through a gilded entryway. Every chamber they passed through seemed richer than the last, this one cavernous and lit with candles taller than a man. Each was probably worth more than everything she once had in her home in Breden. Everything was jeweled, adorned with textured wood and brightly painted. She saw a chair made of at least a dozen varieties of wood, striped and each a slightly darker shade than the one before it.
They turned left down a dark hallway, interspersed with triangular shafts of light cutting across the room in strange angles. It was clearly an artist’s work, as the positioning of the triangular windows wasn’t conducive to making one’s way with clear visibility. “Do you like the gardens?” the pudgy man asked, scuffling his way into a great anteroom.
“They’re lovely,” Nyset said. The room was cylindrical with light scattering like diamonds through the geodesic dome high above. “Ah, so this is what the spires are like? What is your name? Sorry, I don’t believe I know it.”
“That’s because I have not given it. Now where are my manners?” the man’s face grew red as his silks. “Elden, assistant to Earl Baraz.” He offered his knuckles as if she should kiss them.
Nyset wrinkled her nose at his expectant hand. He must be joking or insane, she thought. She shook his fat fingers with her hand. Elden let out a soft gasp. She was not kissing that man’s hand. When had it last been washed? It looked clean, but how could she know? Becoming ill was the last thing she needed, not to mention the absurdity of it. “Nyset Camfield, Arch Wizard of the Silver Tower,” she said with what she hoped was an unwavering voice.
“A pleasure to meet you finally. I’ve heard so much about you,” Elden smiled warmly.
“All positive, I presume?” Nyset asked.
Elden gestured to the high walls. “Yes, we’re in one of the spires you see from the outside here, the other is quite different. We made this one available for guests to admire. The other is currently under construction at the moment. The paintings you see here are the Earl’s personal collection, all created after the Trial of Devastation. They are a reminder of our enemies overseas, the Tigerians.”
“Interesting... enemies overseas? I thought the Tigerian’s were considered extinct?” Nyset walked up to a painting with her arms behind her back. It was a Tigerian rider. It depicted a topless woman wearing only a loincloth riding a cat like creature as big as a horse. The rider was covered in dark tattoos from neck to ankles, leaving very little of her skin untarnished. She held the cat’s reins in one hand and an oversized spear in the other. The cat’s mouth h
ad fangs as long as swords protruding from its jaw. It looked big and powerful enough to split a man into halves.
“I see you’ve been drawn to the ‘The Zealot’ by Darkbash.” Elden strolled up beside her. “A wonderful piece with beautiful brushwork. The textures are truly a master’s work. The keepers of the histories say the Tigerian Zealots rode into battle without armor, uncaring of what injury would befoul their bodies. They would fight to the death, regardless of the odds and whether or not the death was theirs or yours.”
“They had incredible courage,” Nyset said.
“Or perhaps a severe lack of intelligence. Either way, it is written they were terrifying foes. They would feed prisoners to their cats, still breathing supposedly.”
“Armor makes it hard to move, more difficult to maneuver in battle,” Claw added.
Elden shot Claw a glance and snorted.
“Well, that’s probably why the Tigerian Zealots didn’t wear armor, that’s what I’m saying. Claw, nice to make your acquaintance.” Claw offered his hand to Elden.
Elden smiled uncomfortably and looked from Claw’s hand to an iron-bound door. “Let me check on the Earl.” He nodded, then shuffled to the door and knocked. A moment later, he softly opened it.
Claw looked down at his hand still held out, opening and closing it.
Nyset sighed, walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Pay it no mind.”
“Some things are as predictable as the wind.” Claw grinned at her.
“Think you got that one wrong. Isn’t the wind unpredictable?”
“Bring them in,” a gruff voice barked from the opened door.
Elden crept out. “You may see the Earl now.”
Nyset was filled with a spike of panic. This was almost like meeting the king, she realized. Was she presentable? Why hadn’t she taken the time to study the formal customs of Helm’s Reach? “Damn it,” she whispered, thinking of all the ways this could go poorly.
“Thanks for the translation, fat boy. What would I have done without your great intellect?” Claw muttered.
A New Light (The Age of Dawn Book 5) Page 21