"Still," he replied. "It must have been difficult for you. A secret like that could be too dangerous to even tell your closest friends. I studied some accounts of battles during 'The Purge' after we found out about the Orc magic users. Not exactly a good representation of them, but better than nothing since we had never dealt with magic before. As you know, most commonly found historical records are usually written by the victors. There was plenty of hatred and bias that came out in the details."
"There were times I struggled with the decision," she allowed. "I was fortunate that there were others in the Guild of Gifted I could talk to about the isolation and guilt caused by having to keep such a large part of who I am hidden from my friends or acquaintances. The more enmeshed I became in that world, the more I withdrew. It got to be a very lonely existence. As you might imagine, there were not too many young girls or women involved in my new vocation, so I had none to confide in." She could not help the giggle that escaped as a particular memory of that time struck. "You should have seen one of my instructors, a master of the arcane and widely traveled scholar, wide eyed and stammering as I broke down in tears because I was not allowed to use my Gift to impress some boy that never noticed me. He looked like a fish out of water." She spent a second trying to imitate the look before beaming at Meric as he laughed. Their talk and laughter had been kept to a low level, so when she looked around she was surprised to find her father looking back at her with a raised eyebrow. She was in too good a mood to worry about what that look meant, so she decided to ignore it for now. It felt enlivening to laugh and share the now fond memory about a part of her life she normally had to hold back. She had no delusions that her troubles were all over now that she had made it to safety, but for the moment she would enjoy the feeling of security and the companionship Meric was providing.
They were closing in on their destination and while she was looking forward to getting off of her feet, she was a little disappointed that the conversation would be over. She would not be able to discuss such things in front of others and knew that in the garrison there would be too many ears to risk it. She did have one point that she felt it was important to make before they arrived, because he should know that she did not have any need of, nor would she allow any pity. She had spoken truthfully about not having many regrets.
"I was very fortunate to not suffer through that fate for too long. When the King married Briannah she was informed about most Royal confidences, and was not put off by my abilities. We became fast friends to the point that we might as well be sisters, and she has always been there for me when I needed her."
He gave her an understanding nod and replied, "You cannot really ask for more than that."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Witch
Xavier fumed. He seethed. He... he did not even know a word to truly describe the royal fury he was in. Spinning about and pacing, no, striding purposefully back across the brightly lit room. Once again, his well crafted plans were in danger of crumbling apart due to someone else's incompetence. He hurled his now misshapen Royal circlet, twisted out of form in a moment of rage, across the room. As the golden, jewel encrusted coronet shattered a vial of some unknown liquid, his satisfaction at the small act of destruction quickly faded and was replaced by unease. There was no telling what was in the vessel that just violently divulged its contents, and the flash of memory in which a similar mysterious liquid was used in a demonstration with sickening results was enough to remind him that he should take care while in this room. Especially as the woman who resided in these quarters was infinitely more dangerous than anything in the various containers. He kept his attention on the shelves in front of him, even though he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head. He attempted to maintain an air of nonchalance, and continued study of the room in front of him. Needing a moment to bring the spike of fear under control, he actually did spend some time looking around the "workshop" as Fiona called the room they were now in.
It had always surprised him that the witch did not work in some foul, dank hole down in the darkest depths of the dungeon. A place that was permeated with such evil should at least look the part, not have large windows that were usually flung wide to allow sunlight and air in. Even at night, there was always a huge fire in the hearth and nearly every available surface had some number of candles glowing.
He was standing next to a round table that was covered with a red cloth and had several unlit candles, an open tome that looked old and heavy, and a mortar and pestle with some red and yellow substance partially ground up. Beyond that there were book cases taking up the entire length of the twelve foot wall, going all the way up the ceiling which reached three feet over his head. The sections at either end did hold many books, scrolls, and folded parchments that were crammed into the spaces somewhat haphazardly. However, in between, the shelves were lined with all manner of containers. They ranged from clear bottles and vials, ceramic vases and jugs, baskets, and even a cage or two with unseen occupants rattling around. Trying not to be too obvious, he squared his shoulders and turned to face the cold gaze fixed on him.
She was truly a vision of beauty. Her heart-shaped face was framed with long, luxuriously flowing, golden locks. Blue eyes that sometimes seemed closer to violet and very full lips would normally be enough keep your attention on a face like that, if not for the thin, low-cut dresses that were always tightly laced. The impressive cleavage would make almost any man lose his thoughts and she knew exactly how to use her attributes to full advantage. He was a man that thoroughly enjoyed his women and had immediately decided on their first meeting that he would possess her. That desire had not lasted past their second meeting. It was then that he had been introduced to the true Fiona Warrith. The black hearted, coldly reptilian woman had smiled seductively at him as she practiced examples of her... craft on the hapless servant she had requested. He could not completely control the shudder at the memory. He knew he was not a squeamish man, since he had killed more than his share of men and often enjoyed his sex all the more when it got violent. The rougher, the better. Not to mention the fact that he had employed very aggressive interrogation techniques on numerous occasions. The things she had done to that man, boy really, might have been positively impressive if not for the fact that he was too busy trying to keep his lunch down. That had doused his lust better than a swim in the winter time. He would never admit to fearing the woman that barely came up to his shoulder and looked younger than his thirty three by a few years, but he felt that there was no one who could find any weakness in being cautious with her.
She was staring at him as if he were something out of one of her cages or specimen jars. He raised his chin slightly to show her that he was not intimidated, but it must not have worked too well judging by the smirk she flashed.
"You seem troubled, my King."
His jaw clenched tightly at the way she could make his title sound so trivial. She excelled at speaking and acting respectful, all while being blatantly contemptuous. That is what he always felt, at any rate. He could never find any signs that others could tell what she was implying when they were in public, but the people at court were well versed at hiding their true emotions.
"I have received yet another message of failure from Terrance. It appears that two little girls are too formidable of an opponent for him."
"You do not keep him around for his intelligent conversation. The man is a simple thug. He is only good at skulking and killing, especially those weaker than he is. How can you be so upset when he fails to adapt to new situations? I told you to let me handle it, but you were too proud of your own brilliant little plans to listen."
He glared at her and jabbed a finger in her direction, spitting out forcefully, "Watch your tongue, witch! I am your King and will be treated with the respect that is my due!"
She stiffened and her eyes narrowed, but she kept silent. It was not an apology or even a change in attitude, but he would take it. He would have some semblance of dignity when dea
ling with her.
"Now," he continued in a more normal tone, smoothing down the front of his royal vestment. "Is there any way you can check on him, maybe see where he is or what he is doing, or even thinking. That was what your spell thing was supposed to do, right? You could tell what he is thinking?"
She sighed, somewhat dramatically, Xavier thought. "I told you before... it was not a spell to see into his mind. The spell was made to ensure that he not be able to speak of you or your plans. He would not be able to talk about his orders, who gave them, or even speculate on them without knowing in his mind that to do so would be a betrayal to you. The enchantment was keyed to this fact. If he tried, the result would kill him and whomever he was spilling your secrets to."
As she had been speaking, she turned away and moved to another bench against the back wall of the room. He felt the temperature around him rise once her frigid, soul sucking gaze was off of him. She grabbed an ornately carved box from the bench and turned back to the table she had been standing in front of. Setting it down, she released the clasp holding the top closed and pulled back the lid. As he was on the opposite side of the work surface from her, he could not immediately see inside, but judging from the frown that quickly formed on her beautiful face the contents must not have been what she expected. If he recalled correctly, there should be a twine wrapped lock of Terrance's hair sitting on the gold velvet lining of the box's interior.
"It seems that those two little girls might be more impressive foes than you give credit for," she finally said and turned the open case around enough to let him see what was inside. The soft golden material that once covered the entire inside of the small chest was now only bits of tattered, blackened scraps with a few pieces of burnt twine and none of the hair left. His look of confusion must have been obvious, since she answered without further prompting.
"Someone must have enticed him into giving up his secrets. This is a result of the enchantment unleashing its power. Terrance is dead, along with his questioners."
"That piece of filth betrayed me? After everything I did for him." Xavier spun around looking for anything else he could throw.
Fiona's voice halted him before he find could an object heavy enough to satisfy his rage. "He certainly decided to, but there is no need to worry. He would not have been able to tell them anything of significance and anyone interrogating him will no longer be around to discover your involvement. Take a few deep breaths and calm yourself," she finished with her usual dismissive arrogance.
He glowered at the back of her head as she moved to return the box to its original spot. He also took a few deep breaths to calm himself, as he grudgingly admitted that she was right. He needed to re-examine his strategy, take a step back and look at the design as a whole again. To do that he needed information. Terrance may have been captured and interrogated, or he may have simply gotten drunk and was a little too rough with a serving girl. He had heard that those soft hearts in Glendon would arrest a man for the smallest of infractions. There were more vital things for his officials to concern themselves with than whether some peasant whore had a bloody face or broken bones. This thought caused a snort of amusement to escape before he could catch it, and he quickly glanced at the witch to make sure she was not looking. Remembering how Terrance 'getting a little too rough' usually ended up, he allowed that the man might have tried to use what he knew to talk his way out of a murder charge.
Yes, Xavier thought, he would gather more information and re-evaluate the many facets of his plan. It could be saved, though it might require some adjustments. There also may not be a need to change anything at this point, since that idiot would not have been able to talk, the mission he was sent on may have already achieved the desired results. He had people in place all over Glendon. He would first gather intelligence and then he could make any modifications that might be necessary.
Satisfied that things were still under his control for now, he turned without a care for any more of the witch's disdain, and left her rooms. He now had a direction, he could move forward. All would be as it should.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Giving Council
There were some days that it felt like the world was throwing every bit of bad luck at you that it could muster, and then there were days that no matter how tough they were, something could come along to make it worth all of the hassle. Today, James decided as he tightened his arms around the woman nibbling on his ear, definitely fell into the latter category. He had come to realize that Malina Faber was worth every moment of hassle he had ever had to deal with. She sighed softly in his ear before she started to ease away from him, her arms sliding from behind his neck. He held fast to her for just long enough to capture her lips one last time and then released her. As always, the smile that was now directed at him from over her departing shoulder eased some of the stress that was a constant companion when he was in uniform. Since he was responsible, on a daily basis, for the lives of a garrison full of men and the safety of a city full of people, stress was something that he recognized would always be a part of his life. While it was not a comfortable companion, it was familiar and easily dealt with. She just made dealing with it that much more tolerable. He should probably feel some guilt for taking this moment with her, as he knew that the others were waiting for them to begin discussing the events that began with Alyssa's original escort being ambushed. He could not bring himself to feel too bad about it, though, because they had not taken long and he was a man that had always put duty first. After almost getting incinerated by a magical fireball, they could give him a few minutes of comfort with the woman he loved.
He straightened up and tried to wipe the idiot grin from his face before walking out of the room as well. It was a short walk down the hallway to the meeting room they would be using and as he entered he found everyone already settling onto chairs around a large oak table. Meric glanced at James as he entered and Brody clapped him on the shoulder once he sat next to him, but otherwise everyone was focused on Lord Marshall Camden as he sifted through the things they found at the enemy camp. He was looking at the map at that moment and rubbing his chin.
"A Royal Scout's map, but you cannot tell who's or how old?"
"There is no way to know how they came by it. It could be recently stolen or taken from some now dead scout, or could be a remnant from the war," James answered.
The tilt of his head and expression on his face gave the impression that he agreed, but James knew enough about the man to feel sure that the other possible implications would not be forgotten.
"Alright Alyssa, start from the beginning. Let us get all of the details of what has actually transpired first, and then we can move on to speculating and theorizing once all of the facts are laid out."
James leaned back in his chair to get more comfortable while he listened. Alyssa, Meric, Pierson, and Woodard took up the task of relaying the sequence of events that had lead them to this moment, not embellishing the tale or placing an emphasis on any particular point. Lord Camden rarely interrupted, except to clarify some small detail or other. He gave them his full attention and only turned away to make sure his second, Captain Worth, noted certain points of interest. No doubt, a full written report would be expected from himself, Alyssa, Pierson, and Woodard. That would come later, before all of this was brought before the King. For now, Lord Camden needed all of the intelligence he could get, so he could begin to plan accordingly.
As anticipated, when Meric supplied his completely unsatisfactory bit of vagueness about the Orc's possible motive, the Glendon military head was not happy. He stared at the man for a second, and just when James thought Lord Camden might try to intimidate his friend by bring the full might of his authority to bear, he appeared to realize that that tactic would not work on the outlawed Rennick native. Meric was a good soldier that believed in the chain of command and the respect due a superior, but once his word was given, you could carve it in stone. That he was truly an honorable man, and would not give that word u
nless he had a damn good reason, allowed James to take comfort in the fact that he could be trusted. He would take a moment later to ensure that the Lord Marshal understood this. As things now stood, Lord Camden accepted that he did not need to know any more details and allowed the rest of the tale to be told. They left out the exact chain of events from the warehouse, since Malina and Silas were not there, but nothing else was omitted.
Once the full story was laid out, they spent some time answering any questions that were posed and then broke up the meeting for the night. Lord Camden told them that he would spend the rest of the evening planning and sending out orders. He asked that everyone stay in the compound in case he had any further questions and then told them to be ready to leave in the morning. Everyone was dismissed except for James and Captain Worth.
"James," his superior began. "Are you certain that all of these people from Rennick can be trusted? I value my daughter's opinion and trust her instincts, but she's a little too fond of Meric for me not to seek your opinion as well."
"In all honesty, I am not sure my assessment is going to be any less biased. I have a very close, personal relationship with Malina and have known the four of them for almost two years now, and consider them all good friends. They have all helped me or my men out at some point since I have known them, without asking for anything in return. All of them have proven themselves to be honorable and go out of their way to help those in need. Meric and Brody could easily have sat by and ignored the trouble that Lady Alyssa was in. Yes, they knew that I would have kept their involvement quiet if needed out of friendship, but even after I took over control of the situation they chose to help your daughter and the princesses because they could not sit by while innocent people were in danger."
"Maybe they thought there might be some serious gold to be gained from intervening?"
A Soldier's Honor: The Scepter of Maris: Book One Page 13