Endrance rolled his eyes. “That actually sounds a lot like him.” He muttered. “How does he manage to do it even when he’s not here?”
Selene frowned. “Do what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
That afternoon, Joven stepped through the doorway and into the house he had commandeered for the messengers from Ironsoul. Last he had checked, Endrance was sleeping off another night spent entirely in study. His charge had a habit of giving him rough assignments, but as his bodyguard and friend, Joven was one of the few people Endrance trusted implicitly. Which was why he hadn’t had the men executed and sent back to the kingdom in a bag for even trying to take their Spengur prisoner. If he had his way, they wouldn’t have even had the chance to see Endrance, but he didn’t know they were coming. He hadn’t even considered the idea that the kingdoms of Ironsoul would send people to try to arrest the mage in such a way. If anything, he figured they had left the matter solved back in Ironsoul when they’d left their borders. The fact that they would seek the mage out in potentially hostile territory said much for his friend’s importance to them.
He looked about the front room, which had been mostly for shucking one’s snow gear. None of the men were present in the room, but he didn’t expect them to be. He expected them to be in the central hall, where the fire pit was. That would be the warmest place to be, and that was where he knew they would gather.
He walked through without taking any of his gear off; having grown up in the territory, such cold this far down the mountain was tolerable, and he had dressed lightly. The door to the main hall swung open loudly, and he stepped into a room with six men with drawn steel awaiting him. He raised an eyebrow and held his empty hands up, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a barely suppressed smile.
“Be at peace, men.” he said in jest. “If I wanted you dead I would have just set fire to the house.”
“At least then we would have died warm.” one man quipped as they sheathed their hastily drawn weaponry.
Joven almost chuckled. “That you would have.” he replied with a nod. “I came to make sure that you were, how did Endrance say it? Comfortable.” Joven said, crossing his arms.
The main hall of the house was large, meant for, at minimum, eight men and women, plus their children. Even with seven trained military men in the main hall, there was plenty of room for Joven to move about around them. Solid stone floors were covered in heavy rugs and the walls were supported with a framework of actual wood. In the farmlands, trees were more readily available and had been used more frequently for construction. It gave the room a friendlier, warmer atmosphere than some of the higher altitude homes.
The messenger, the only one who hadn’t drawn a weapon the moment Joven burst in, waved his hand to encompass the room. “This place was well stocked and warm enough, despite my men’s complaints they’ve been warmer today than they’d been all month. I do wonder what happened to the people that lived here before we arrived though; I mean, when we got here there were beds half made.”
Joven leaned back against the wall. “The Spengur requested this place be made available to you for a time, so the people abandoned the home before your arrival.”
“Abandoned?” Ezeilo asked.
Joven checked the nails on one hand as he spoke. “The Spengur is a man who is greatly feared in our country; the people fled their home the minute he asked, rather than risk him bringing ruin upon them for not moving fast enough.”
Ezeilo’s expression turned to one of confusion. “What?” he asked. “Sir Mage is not a tyrant, is he?”
Joven shook his head. “Not in the slightest.” He replied. “In fact, he’s already helped this farm keep its crops from failing this fall harvest. He’s been very good to us since he got here.” he frowned. “Or did you not understand the whole ‘Demon Summoning King’ thing I said before?”
“I... I got that,” Ezeilo responded, “I just don’t understand how they can be so afraid of him when he’s been nothing but helpful to them.”
Joven scowled. “You seem to not understand how long we’ve lived with our fear and hatred of mages. We’ve grown up for hundreds of years hating them, and with good reason. Endrance has told me that there are many, what do you call them? Wizards. There are a great deal more wizards in your central kingdom than exist any magic users in our whole territory. Have you not seen a mage in battle?”
“Yes.” Ezeilo stated. “I’ve seen the match between Weldom-”
Joven cut him off. “Then you know how dangerous they can be. Even the most inexperienced of their kind can do great harm. Even more harm than an experienced one if given the right circumstances. Endrance has shown me this.” The bodyguard nodded. “We hate them for a reason, and yet your people cater to them for the same. This is the way it is.”
Ezeilo was silent for a while. He was no diplomat; this was a debate left for the philosophers to squabble over. He was a more practical man, and he didn’t need to gain the enmity of the man who had the wizard’s ear. He could be the one to get the young mage to cooperate.
“I don’t entirely get the reasons behind your people’s views,” He began after consideration. “But I do understand you have them. I am a simple man; they give me orders and I carry them out. I don’t have the luxury or the desire to decide whose politics are best.”
Joven found himself smiling, despite his desire to put on an intimidating face. He was starting to like the messenger. “Very good.” Joven replied. “Then you’re like me. That makes this easier.”
He looked the messenger straight in the eyes and spoke. “You’re going to tell me everything that is going on with these orders to return him to Ironsoul. And you’re going to tell me now.”
Ezeilo looked him in the eye and smiled. “I’d be glad to.”
Chapter 05
Endrance stood next to Bridget and scowled at her. “I said to do it. That’s an order from your Spengur.”
“I swear to the gods that if you’re doing this just for your own selfish desires I’m going to pound you into the paving stones.” Bridget griped, scowling back more fiercely than Endrance was able to endure.
He shrugged, but spoke firmly. “You were more than willing to stand around in front of me wearing nothing but the skin you were born in the other day, so I don’t want to hear any complaints when I ask you to stand there and let me examine your shoulders! I’m not even looking at the rest of your... very firmly toned body.”
“Shame!” Joven’s voice came from the other side of the nearby door. Endrance had come to her bedroom to try to cajole her into letting him do some additional research, but she’d been angry enough at him that getting her to listen was about as hard as arm wrestling a giant. Joven must have arrived sometime during his attempts.
“Shut it!” Endrance and Bridget both shouted at the door at the same time. They exchanged a glance and Bridget looked away, her face red and scowling. The mage was having a hard time resisting smiling at the sudden connection they had made. She was so set on opposing him that even an incidental similarity was flustering her.
“Just stand still and hold out your left arm.” he instructed. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and then looked away. “Look you told me to give you your arm back, so how am I supposed to do that when you won’t let me look at what I need to fix?”
She took a deep breath and spread out her arm, her stance steady. She wore simple pants and a strip of cloth for a top wrapped around her breasts but not covering much else. Endrance reached out and touched her back near the lumpy deformation that was her barely restored shoulder. He could feel the muscle had pulled away from the bone, where tendons and muscle had been severed.
Careful examination showed him that she had fully recovered from a physical standpoint; however that might make restoration much more difficult, even if he could get the power of life magic from the elves. A fully healed body stopped trying to mend the lost limb, and would heal again in that way if injured further. Perhap
s he should look into a gradual manipulation process instead of an instantaneous recovery.
“What did you need, Joven?” Endrance asked while he continued his examinations. “Bridget, do you have any muscle control over the area?”
Bridget closed her eyes and attempted to move any muscles in her right shoulder. “None.” she said as Joven opened the door to the room and stepped inside. He had been outside for some time; even with the warmth of the room there was still snow caked on the shoulders of the barbarian’s cloak.
“I had a talk with the messenger from your country.” He said.
"I know you would rather not deal with them, but it is important." Endrance replied.
"It's not important." Joven said. "It has nothing to do with our people."
Endrance frowned, but remained focused on his task. "But it is important to them, and I am of two peoples now. Yours and theirs."
The big man rolled his eyes. "Right. So it's a good thing they want to take you back and put you in prison."
Endrance took a second to glance over to his bodyguard. "They said that?"
"That they were to throw you in the prisons?" Joven asked in return. "Yeah, they did. The trial is supposed to be at winter solstice."
Winter solstice was still a few months away; a completely ordinary day for the people of Balator, since they placed no import upon magically significant times and places. Endrance himself had been too busy to note the significance of this night last year, nor did he normally put any more stock in the day other than to recognize it as a seasonal marker.
"At least they got here with enough time to walk back with me." Endrance quipped, feeling around Bridget's collarbone. It had healed enough to remain stationary, binding to what was left of her shoulder blade. Even if he had magic to replace the limb, the collarbone would have to be broken and re-set. He took mental note of that and continued.
Bridget, who had been quiet the whole time, finally spoke. "Screw them. Whether or not you are also one of their people, you're the Spengur and we aren't going to let someone from some other country just walk in and take you away."
Endrance looked up from her shoulder to her face, but she turned her head away from him and scowled. He quirked an eyebrow and resumed his prodding.
"She's right." Joven said after a moment. "Even if you're a mage, and scrawnier than most of our women, you are the Spengur and we would take great insult to someone taking you away from us." he nodded. "If anyone is going treat you like crap, it will be us."
"That’s... reassuring." Endrance muttered.
"You're welcome." Joven said. "Best compliment a mage can get from a Balatoran. You know you're one of us if we won't let anyone kill you but us. We'll even protect you from others to keep that honor ours."
Endrance didn't know what to say, so he remained silent. He had found out all he could from Bridget, so he patted her on the back. "Done." he said. "I've got all I can get from you for the moment. When I get more research done on the proper spells, I might be able to use this to help."
She turned to him and finally looked him in the eye. "You really think you can give me my arm back?" she asked.
The wizard shook his head with a smile. "Oh you wanted the old arm? I was going to give you a fresh one, if I can arrange it."
"Probably for the best." Joven said. "They threw the old one in the fire with all the other dead that day."
Bridget looked as if she were ready to punch Endrance in the face, so he took a step back. "Relax!" he said. "I can tell you that your shoulder has completely healed from the injury, and you're more than ready to return to work. It will take some time adjust to the loss, but you're doing incredible already!"
"I don't want to adjust." she muttered angrily.
Endrance was going to speak, but suddenly Joven cut him off, stepping forward. "Cut that shit out!" he growled. Both Bridget and Endrance looked to him with wide eyes as he continued.
"You knew from the day you were selected that your life was over! You only live because of your Spengur - from before you ever lost your arm!" Joven's voice rang throughout the room. "You of all people know that this man has done you no ill will, and has even kept you from the doors of death itself. And you have the gall to be angry with him!" Joven's hands were clenched into fists and his scowl bore more honest anger than Endrance had ever seen in the man before.
"You worthless, honorless woman!" the bodyguard continued. "This life you have is only because he wants you to have it!" Joven's gesture toward Endrance nearly hit the mage in the face. "It would have been one thing if you were a foreigner like he was, but you were of Balator! You were raised to accept this! You owe him your life twice over!"
Bridget's tanned face paled and she watched him warily, more than just fear dancing in her eyes. "I..." she eked out.
"I'm going to wait for you downstairs." Joven stated to the mage. "I can't stand to be in the same room as this dishonorable thing."
Joven left the room before Endrance could say anything, slamming the door hard enough to shake the floor under his feet. The room was silent as the both of them heard the barbarian's angry boot steps tromp down the stairs.
"I'm..." Endrance said, swallowing. "I'm going to go."
He turned to walk out the door, but only walked one step before he felt something pulling on the back of his shirt. Bridget had grabbed him and wasn't about to let him leave yet.
"Wait." she said. Endrance could see tears in her eyes, but her voice was unwavering. "Joven's right."
"I didn't say-" Endrance began.
"Of course you wouldn't say that!" she interrupted. "You're too much like Anna was! Nurturing and protective. Joven's right to tear into me like that. I deserved it." She hung her head as she spoke. "I need that. I've been out of control; blaming you, blaming everyone but myself. I should be grateful that I have a life at all. I should be grateful that I only lost an arm. If you were anything else but what you are, I would have died right there."
Endrance turned to her and she let go of his shirt. She took a step back and gave him a smile, tears still brimming in her eyes. "I should be grateful that I still get to serve someone who holds to their convictions." she said, her voice low. "Please, just… I'll be okay. I just need a little longer."
Endrance reached out and tipped up her chin with a finger. "Hey." he said, trying to sound confident. "No matter what, I'll do what I can to help you. There's a chance that I won't be able to restore your arm good as new, but I'll find a way to help. I told you before that I would try to do right by you the night we met. I intend to keep that promise. We already lost one of our family, I don't want to see the rest fall apart."
She looked at him with confusion crossing her face. "You... still want to have me around you, after the way I treated you?" she asked. He'd not seen this vulnerable side of her before, but he knew her well enough to know this was something he’d only rarely witness.
"Bridget, you're still you; even if you had lost more than your arm." he said. "I won't abandon you because you're lashing out in pain." He stepped up to her and embraced her. She stiffened, and he thought for a moment she was going to try to shove him away. Instead, something broke inside of her and she wrapped her arm around him and sobbed into his shoulder.
They stood that way for several minutes. Her tears soaked into his shirt and her voice was muffled against his neck as he held onto her. He knew that someone like her, who valued strength, wrapped it about her like armor. This injury was more than physical; it had built up pressure inside, and now she was letting it out.
She eventually quieted, and he waited for her to shift her balance before pulling away. "There." Endrance said. "Now how about we go downstairs and you can help me sort out this mess that I've got to clean up before General Rohl gets here."
She nodded, and they went out the room and downstairs.
In the kitchen, Joven was leaning back in a chair, his boots up on the table as he reclined. He glanced at Endrance out of the corner of his eye and g
rinned. "So, did it work?" he asked.
Endrance slowed, puzzled. "Did what work?" he replied. Bridget walked past the mage and up to Joven.
"Yes. It did." she said, looking down at him.
Joven nodded. "That's good." he said.
Bridget put her hand on his chest and pushed, tipping the chair too far backwards. Joven's arms windmilled for a moment before his body went crashing to the stone. The chair broke under his weight, and the barbarian let out a woof as he impacted the floor.
Joven looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. "We're good?" he wheezed.
Bridget nodded. “Yes. Asshole.”
"Good." he said.
Endrance shook his head and took a seat on the other side of the table. "Okay you two, let's get down to business."
Bridget helped Joven up and the two took their seats. She sat at Endrance's side, while Joven sat on a new chair on an adjacent side of the table. Endrance spread his hands on the table surface.
"All right, I have a few things that need to be finished by the time General Rohl gets here. First one is that I need someone to go to the village where Anna's family is raising the General's son. I need you to do that, Joven. You're the only one I can trust to make it there and then return safely."
Joven nodded. "Got it."
"I also need Bridget and Selene to help me figure out how to take my leave to go back to Ironsoul to sort out this legal mess Jalyin put me in. In addition, I need to get as much information as I can about the ascension. Is there anything else that I'm forgetting?"
"How about the demoness you found in the castle?" Bridget asked. "I don't see how she managed to hide for a month without being seen by the craftsmen or soldiers stationed there."
"From what I gathered, once I convinced her licking the back of my throat was a bad idea-"
"What?" Bridget asked, her tone intense.
Endrance blinked at her. "She was trying to molest with me without my consent?" he said, confused.
Spellscribed: Ascension Page 7