by Jim Galford
“That has to be Altis’ army,” Ilarra whispered mostly to herself, but it had become habit to speak her thoughts aloud for Raeln’s benefit. “I’ve never even heard of an army that large. Altis only has about ten thousand soldiers, according to father. That looked more like fifty.”
Another crash nearby, followed by something banging on the metal doors made Ilarra stifle a scream. Raeln put his arm around her, and eventually the noise at the doors stopped, though it still sounded as if a thousand sets of feet were jumping up and down above them. That too eventually faded into the distance.
Ilarra spent hours staring up at that door, wondering when the enemy would come for them again, but the day or night passed without further indication that they had been found.
Chapter Four
“Acceptance”
We, as a people, are defined by what we know and what our minds have enshrined in fact. The wise shall be elevated above the mighty, for without their wisdom, the mighty will never know where it is just to strike at.
Embrace your wise men and women, for they will lead Turessi in my absence. The mighty may never lead by right of strength but have more than ample place in our society. Let wisdom reign supreme and teach your children well, for that education is their entire future.
- First law of Turess
Therec stumbled as the servant who was supposed to be bringing him water to wash himself for the morning instead punched him. Holding his cheek as he staggered away from the man, he fought to calm his racing heart, seeking peace within himself. It was all he could do without furthering the hatred of these people. Faintly, he heard the sound of a knife being drawn and began to wonder if he would have to kill the man, regardless of the risk to his mission.
Before the servant could strike again, two dwarven guards that had been assigned to prevent just such an occurrence rushed into the room and knocked the man over. With much cursing and a few well-placed kicks, the dwarves dragged the servant from the room, offering mumbled apologies as they departed, closing the door behind them.
Sighing, Therec went to the window, looking down over the massive city far below the tower he stood within. Without giving it much thought as he studied the buildings and the far walls of the city, he touched his swollen cheek with a gloved hand, calling on the spirits of the dead to ease his body’s pain. Almost immediately, the healing magic cooled the skin and slowed the swelling near his eye.
The magic would not fix the remaining hurt and bruising, but that was a limitation of magic. The spirits of the dead were willing to buy the living more time by removing larger injuries, but they had no sympathy for aches and minor diseases. Occasionally, the more heretical spirits even granted their followers the ability to bring the dead back to life, though such a practice was frowned upon by Therec’s clan and several of the others. Death was an ending to one’s story, not a momentary inconvenience. Bringing the dead back was grounds for execution, long thought to be the final lesson in humility.
“Sir?” asked a young woman behind him.
“The only title I will accept is ‘ambassador’,” he answered, without looking away from the window. “As I have asked you before, Dalania, please call me by my name. The word ‘sir’ to your people is a title of respect or age, neither of which I have earned yet.”
“The magisters would like to speak with you, sir,” the woman replied, as though she had not heard him. They had gone through this at least four times in the last day since Therec had arrived. For a servant, she was incredibly bold, while remaining overly demure. “If you will follow me, I will take you to them.”
Nodding mostly to himself, Therec turned from the window and looked over the woman waiting for him in the doorway flanked by the dwarves, who had returned from escorting away the last servant. The woman was a fae-kin, a mortal distant relative of the nature spirits that inhabited many of the wilder places in the world. Though one could mistake her for a human at first glance, there was little doubt about her ancestry if one looked anywhere but her face.
The woman was effectively nude, though covered in thick green vines that wrapped around her body like a partial dress. If one looked closely enough, there was even a greenish tint to her skin and hair, though that was fairly subtle. Even her long hair had a slightly green tint to it and Therec swore he could see small leaves here and there.
When Dalania had first come to call him for the evening meal the night before, Therec had been offended and sent her away in anger. He had believed she was sent to him as a mockery of his people’s distaste for physical contact, given that she was just barely acceptably covered for these lands, let alone his more discrete people. Any Turessian who showed more skin in public than their face and possibly hands was considered prideful and disrespectful of their clan.
It was hours later that Therec had learned that the masters of the tower normally sent Dalania to greet all new guests, under some belief that having an attractive mostly-naked woman show up at their door would be a pleasant experience. That, among other things, had been a bit of a surprise to Therec and he had sought out the girl to apologize profusely. She had seemed shocked by that, but had graciously accepted his apology.
“Do you know the nature of this request?” Therec asked, moving to join the woman at the door.
Unlike most of the people in these lands, she moved quickly to maintain a respectful distance from him, helping him to avoid touching her. That was something he found quite pleasant about the woman, which he could not say about most people here, who insisted on touching hands at every possible opportunity. Despite being a servant, she was far more enlightened than most.
“No, sir,” she answered, avoiding eye contact as he passed her. “All they said was that you were needed in the Chamber of Light.”
Therec gave her a questioning look, but she remained still at his side, offering nothing and not looking at him.
“Explain.”
Dalania answered as though reading from a book…it was obviously a response she had been obligated to memorize. That, or she was intentionally doing what she could as a servant to torment him. Either was possible.
“The Chamber of Light is so named for the number of windows and the angle at which it catches the morning sunlight. It was built one hundred and seventy-two years ago by…”
“Thank you, that is more than I needed to know about that,” Therec cut in, smiling at the woman as they began walking again, with her taking the lead. “Can you answer something else for me?”
Though she kept walking, Dalania turned her head slightly to acknowledge him, despite keeping her eyes on the floor. “That is my duty, sir.”
“Are you a slave?”
Dalania stopped mid-stride and turned to fully face Therec. For the first time, she stared back at him, her gaze unwavering. Whatever her story was, this woman had more spirit than Therec had initially given her credit for.
“I am a servant to Magister Kinet,” she answered firmly. “If and when I pay off my debt to him, I will be a free citizen of the city.”
Therec studied her face for deception but found none. Whether truth or not, she believed it. On a whim, he took a step toward her, which would have cornered her between the wall and a decorative table. She hastily stepped to one side, wincing as she did. It was not just politeness…she genuinely was avoiding contact.
“You act as one who has been beaten,” he told her, looking for any scars from whips. There were none that he could see. “Servants and slaves generally differ in treatment. Which are you…really?”
“My master will freely tell you that I am a servant. There are no slaves in Lantonne.”
“And what would you call yourself, if you were free of him?”
Dalania’s eyes flashed angrily, but then she composed herself and offered a false smile. “I am a servant doing my job here, sir,” she replied pleasantly. “I would be remiss if I didn’t get you to my master quickly.”
Realizing he was going to get nowhere with the woman, even
with a fairly solid idea that her master was not playing by the laws of the city, Therec gave her a slight nod and waved her onward. He would deal with the legalities later, once he had gotten a clearer picture of his role here. There was no sense in picking fights before he had all the information he would need.
They made their way up several winding staircases, their pace rather faster than Dalania normally traveled, giving Therec a good idea that he had either offended her or at least touched on a topic she was uncomfortable with. He had not meant to bother her, but coming in with only rumors and a few details the king had told him in passing forced him to ask more questions than he would have liked.
Just as Therec was beginning to wonder if their destination was atop the roof of the great keep, Dalania turned and led him onto one of the uppermost floors. They passed through a heavy door that could be barred if needed and into a vast round room. They were nearly three floor higher than he had gone in the keep and he had not even realized there were more rooms so far up.
True to its name, the chamber was brilliantly lit. Enormous windows with glass in them lined most of the walls’ arc, other than where the room connected to the rest of the tower on the westernmost portion of the room. Even the roof had been enchanted in some way, allowing light to come through the stone ceiling, as if it were open air…though it also let Therec make out bird droppings all over the roof. He had never seen a place with such simple extravagance. In Turessi, only the temple had any windows and those were mostly in the council’s chamber.
Within the room, long bookshelves had been set up along the edges where they would not block the windows, giving Therec the impression of the room being both full and open at the same time. In the middle area were several tables as well as a large open space where meetings could be held. At the tables were three of the magisters, one whom Therec knew from a passing introduction the night prior to be Kinet, Dalania’s master. A dwarven woman near Kinet was Arlind, the master healer of the tower. The third, based on descriptions he had been given, was the elderly elven library keeper, Dorus. No less than twelve more magisters were somewhere in the tower and should have been called if the meeting was important. Their absence made him distinctly uncomfortable, as he had yet to meet with the king to learn the specifics of his tasks within the city. Meeting with high-ranking magisters away from public eye was not part of his plan.
Therec mostly ignored the mumbled greetings the magisters, watching from the corner of his eye until Dalania had excused herself and closed the door into the chamber. He gave her a few more seconds to wander out of earshot, just in case she was listening in…he knew slaves back in Turessi would do so on a regular basis and had to assume that it was common here as well. Boring her with lack of discussion was the only sure way to make her leave.
“Why was I summoned?” Therec asked once he was fairly certain Dalania was gone, trying to sound at least a little less annoyed than he really was. “My understanding was that I was brought to Lantonne to answer concerns of the king, not the magisters. Yet for some reason, I am brought to the magisters when I should be meeting with the king.”
Magister Kinet stood up and made his way across the large room toward Therec, while Dorus muttered something that Therec could not quite make out. Given the rumors he heard of his outspoken dislike for the Turessian people, he chose not to think further on it.
“Ambassador,” Kinet said, offering a hand to Therec.
Staring at the man’s bare hand while trying not to say something rude, Therec kept his own gloved hands clasped behind his back. Barbarians and they did not even know it.
“…Right,” mumbled Kinet, wiping his hand on his robe uncomfortably. “I keep forgetting that your people have an issue with physical contact. Not meaning to offend, mind you.”
“We have no issue with the idea, we simply don’t see the point of indulging in pointless touching that distracts one from what they should be doing. Just as I’m sure you would not run around the city smacking men on the rump as a greeting, we choose not to touch other when it is not justified. I see the two behaviors as similar.”
Kinet’s face crinkled in clear confusion about that, but he nodded and shoved both hands into the folds of his robe.
“The reason we asked you to come,” the man continued, motioning toward the table and the other magisters, “is that we wanted to learn more about you and your people.”
Therec studied Kinet’s face briefly, seeing various subtle cues. His duties among his own people required being absolutely certain of the intentions of slaves, so it was a habit to watch others and read their actual meaning, rather than what they said. From what he had seen so far after leaving the white lands of the north, few in these lands knew how to hide their intentions. The elf girl on the wagon had been a fine example of how easily flustered the southerners became when their obvious behavior was called into question.
“You lie,” said Therec, as he took a seat at the table. “You wanted me to come here for another reason. If I must guess, you want to know why your king called me here and why none of the magisters were invited to the meeting I am to have with him. That is just a guess, though.”
“That is…yes, that’s about the sum of it,” noted Dorus, chuckling dryly, but not looking up from the large book on the table in front of him. The man fidgeted with an empty pipe, eyeing the dwarven woman before putting it away. Therec was willing to bet Arlind was the reason he did not smoke within the keep. “I like this one, Kinet. No games. It’s refreshing. We should have sent for Turessians to join us generations ago. The politics of this city has always bothered me. I think this one will tell me to my face if he intends to stab me in the back.”
Frowning at the other magister and snorting, Kinet sat down across from Therec.
Leaning forward toward Therec as though to keep others from listening, Kinet told Therec, “If we are to be blunt, yes. The king always has at least one magister at all meetings since the war began. Excluding us now sets a bad precedent and makes the court wonder if there is something going on.”
“Of course there is something going on,” Therec replied, grinning. “There is a war. When we met briefly last night, I was told by your king that your enemy has soundly trounced your army and the he is hardly pleased. Given that your forces are far larger, I would assume that he believes that there is someone in this tower sending information to someone from Altis. Given your exclusion from out meetings, I believe he suspects a magister to be involved.”
Kinet sat back abruptly in surprise, giving the other two magisters meaningful stares. Therec did not see malice or fear in that look, just surprise. He had offered that information in the hopes that he would have information for the king once the task was suggested, but they were either innocent or better at hiding their emotions than he had expected.
“Why tell us this?” demanded the dwarf, Arlind, glowering at Therec with her arms crossed over her chest. The dwarven woman’s long braided hair bounced as she cocked her head to study Therec. Like his fellow clanmates, the dwarves were too proud to disguise intentions unless there was a need to lie, making her an open book to Therec. “Sounds like you’re bloody well making it up.”
“Not at all, just hoping to surprise the guilty party into slipping,” Therec admitted. “Everything I say will have that purpose.”
Kinet snorted and said loudly, “All three of us are among the most respected of the king’s loyal servants. Even suggesting that we might be traitors is offensive, ambassador. Dorus oversees the king’s troop movements. Arlind is the king’s personal healer. I maintain the rule of law in the city. I recommend watching your accusations.”
Getting up from the table, Therec walked around the room slowly, taking in the titles of the books on the shelves. A few he recognized, but most were local works, including histories and research into magic done by the members of the tower. He wanted to look them over, but this was hardly the time. Plus, he knew the three magisters were watching his back. Something as simp
le as selecting a book to read might reveal more about himself than he desired. If he were to pick up a book, it had to be chosen to give them nothing.
“It may be offensive, but no one is ever as loyal as they claim,” Therec told them as he slid a large tome out and glanced at the text inside. The curved writing style used in Lantonne would take him some time to adjust to, making it difficult to really understand much of what he was looking at. What he could make out was that it was a simple historical book, with no bearing on Lantonne or Turessi. “You, Kinet, are a traitor, but not the traitor I would wish to provide to the king. That makes it less of a concern to me.”
Kinet very nearly fell off his chair as his mouth moved without words. He looked at the other two at the table nervously, then back to Therec.
“I am no traitor! You could be hung for such an accusation against a magister without evidence.”
“Your king, though chosen by the people and bound by certain popular decisions, issues edicts like any other ruler,” Therec explained, putting the book back. This time, he chose to pick up a thick book of Lantonnian laws. Arlind’s raised brow told him that she had not missed the significance. “Whether those edicts are from the people or directly from him, it matters little. They are the decisions of a king and must be obeyed as such. Without law, we have chaos and a kingdom can fall with enough chaos.”
“Of course,” Kinet replied quickly. “I serve the king in all matters…that is why I am in charge of overseeing enforcement of law by the local sheriffs.”
Therec smiled slightly, knowing he had the man snared. It was a cruel game to play on a stranger, but it would help him get a better feel for these people. They honestly made it too easy for him.
“Disobeying the king’s direct orders would be treason by definition, correct? As one who enforces laws, disobedience would rise above merely illegality.”