Artesans of Albia

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Artesans of Albia Page 72

by Cas Peace

Bull gave a rueful grin. “It’s my fault. I should have guessed she would sense me. She’s been waiting for Robin to tell her. He’ll get it in the neck now, like I just did.”

  Taran gaped. “You’ve spoken to her? What did she say?”

  “I won’t repeat her exact words, but she was furious. She chewed me out at great length for putting myself, and all of you, in danger. Told me exactly what she thought of me for disobeying orders.”

  Taran’s heart fell. “Did we really distress her that much? Rienne will be upset—she never wanted that.”

  Bull shook his head. “Don’t worry. Once she had thoroughly worked me over and got the anger out of her system, she told me how much she loved me, and how pleased she was that we’re here. That’s always been her way. First the explosion, then the swearing, then the forgiveness.”

  He sighed sadly. “We should have gone to the Citadel straight away. We would still have had the dressing-down and the foul language, but it would have been done with soon enough. Now we’re stuck here until it’s over. She ordered me to tell you all this, though. If by some evil stroke of luck Rykan wins, we’re under the strictest orders to get the hell out as soon as possible. And I had to promise on my oath to obey this time.”

  “But what about Robin?” asked Taran.

  “Robin will have to take care of himself. There won’t be anything we can do if he gets caught in the middle. We’d only get ourselves killed, and I don’t intend to let that happen.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  It was a rare and perfect dawn, the sun lifting effortlessly into a peach-colored sky. There was no wind and the air was mild. Sullyan, lying in Robin’s arms, woke to a soft chorus of birds outside the window, celebrating this early promise of spring.

  She freed herself from Robin’s embrace and wrapped a robe about her body. Going to the window, she looked out over the inner courtyard, staring at the dawn. Why did it have to be so lovely? There was a very good chance that she would never see another dawn like this. Then movement behind her and strong arms coming around her stopped that train of thought, and she let Robin’s love distract her from her gloom. Hand in hand, they went into the bathing room to prepare themselves for the day. This day would decide Andaryon’s future and Albia’s future too.

  They had bathed, dressed, and were eating a light breakfast by the time the Hierarch’s page appeared. Pharikian came behind him, smiling at their invitation to enter. A second page followed him, carrying a long, velvet-covered box which he placed on the table. He lifted the lid and Sullyan’s eyes widened when she saw what it contained.

  Pharikian cleared his throat. “I wasn’t sure whether to do this or not, child. It was Ty Marik who convinced me I should give you the choice.”

  Sullyan rose and walked slowly to the box. She stood looking down at the fine blade nestled within, beautifully polished, honed to perfection, slim and strong. She put out her left hand and gently stroked the hilt. The blade was plain and unadorned, but the wrist guard was engraved with swirls, loops, and spirals. With a sudden shock, she realized what she was looking at. Her vision blurred as she turned to the Hierarch.

  “Was this my father’s blade?”

  “Yes, child. It was my gift to him.”

  Wonderingly, her fingers lingered over the wrist guard. Part of the design she recognized. It was as much a part of her as her own skin. The rest was less familiar, but the whole made up a representation of the psyche belonging to the man for whom the sword was made.

  “I have never seen this done before. Robin, look.”

  He came to stand beside her and gasped in admiration at the sword’s beauty and workmanship. Yet he didn’t realize the significance of the etched design.

  “Look at the pattern on the hilt. It is a representation of my father’s psyche.”

  It took a moment to sink in. Then Robin looked up in amazement. “How is that possible?”

  Andaryon’s ruler smiled. “The swordsmith was a man of rare talent who could see my projection of Morgan’s pattern. He fixed it in his mind and engraved it onto the sword.” He gazed at Sullyan, who was feeling strangely reluctant to take the weapon into her hand. “I thought you might like to use it today, child, and so I give it to you now, in case you need to learn its weight and balance. But I think you will find it comes easily to your hand. Morgan was neither tall nor heavy, so it was made light and strong. Try it, Brynne.”

  At his urging, Sullyan took the hilt reverently into her left hand and raised the shining blade from its box. “It balances better than my own weapon!”

  The look on her face made Pharikian smile. “I thought it might. It will be good to see it used again, and I can’t think of a better time for it to leave its box.”

  “Has it seen combat, Timar?” Her voice was soft. She was still admiring the beautiful length of steel.

  “Many times, child. It didn’t let Morgan down then, and it won’t let you down now. Go and practice if you need to. You still have a couple of hours before we’ll call you.”

  He turned to leave the room.

  “Majesty?”

  The formal address made him frown. “Yes, child?”

  She lowered her eyes, suddenly diffident. “When we gather for the exchange of life force, may I ask you to ensure that everyone present is perfectly willing?” She raised her gaze to meet his. “This is not something that should be done lightly. I do not wish to meet Rykan knowing I carry unwillingly donated life force.”

  He inclined his head. “I understand, Brynne. You need have no worries on that score. We have all agreed and deem it an honor to help you in this way. There will be no forced participants, I assure you.”

  Her murmured thanks followed him as he left the room.

  Sullyan spent some time out on the training ground with Robin, testing her father’s sword. The balance and weight of it were so perfect for her that it felt like an extension of her arm. In that respect, practice was unnecessary. It was the weapon’s emotional implications she had to come to terms with. The thought that her father’s hand had gripped the hilt where hers did, that his muscles had flexed and contracted as hers did, that his body had moved and responded as hers did, was constantly on her mind. Nevertheless, she moved about the arena with her accustomed lethal grace. If Rienne, who had once doubted Sullyan’s capacity to kill, had been watching her at that moment, she would have had no doubt whatsoever that her friend was an efficient and implacable killer.

  Whatever else it did, the sword reaffirmed Sullyan’s faith in her own skills. Robin, facing her attacks and trusting her not to follow through on the killing thrusts, smiled grimly as he recognized the look in her eyes. Pharikian had gambled well on her reaction to her father’s sword.

  Sullyan ended the session long before either of them tired, and they sat companionably in the sunlight. Joined by Ky-shan and his entire band, they engaged in weapons talk. Nothing too specific, just a commander and her unit discussing the finer points of sword play. It was just what she needed, and when the servant came to summon her for the ceremony of sharing life force, they were all amazed at how much time had passed. Sullyan found it incredible that she had actually forgotten for those few precious hours what was to happen that day. Gratefully, she smiled at her band.

  “Gentlemen, I thank you for your time and your most agreeable company.”

  She rose and was about to follow the servant when Ky-shan also stood, followed by Jay’el, Ki-en, Almid, and Kester. They waited expectantly as she stared, bemused.

  Ky-shan bowed formally. “Lady, we want to offer our life force also, to help you beat Rykan. I know we are untrained, but we are strong. We can do nothing else to help you now, and by this offer we hope to thank you for what you did for us, for getting his Majesty to accept us and for risking your life for ours. This is our wish, and we are all in agreement. Please, Lady, don’t refuse us.”

  She had been going to do just that, but the look in their eyes stopped her. Shaking her head at them, she smiled. “Very
well, gentlemen, you have outmaneuvered me. If the Hierarch agrees to your inclusion, I will not refuse you. And I thank you all.”

  Xeer led the rest of the men in a chorus of cheers that made her flush. The sound of it followed her as she left the arena.

  + + + + +

  They had to change out of their sweaty clothes before meeting the Hierarch, and so split up to go to their respective quarters. Robin hung back for a final word with Ky-shan while Sullyan went on ahead, so he was alone in the corridor when he heard raised and angry voices.

  He recognized Anjer’s gruff tones immediately and frowned when he also heard Vanyr’s voice. He couldn’t quite make out the words, but through an open door he saw a long corridor which ended in a far room. There, the huge Lord General and the lithe Commander were facing each other, both clearly furious. Anjer was gesticulating and they were obviously in the middle of a heated dispute. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, Robin hurried on. He had the distinct impression that Vanyr was receiving another tongue-lashing, and from the tone of Anjer’s fury, he didn’t envy the man.

  + + + + +

  A short time later, they gathered in the formal audience chamber. Sullyan and Robin hadn’t been there since their first meeting with the Hierarch all those weeks ago. Pharikian, Anjer, Kryp, Ephan, Ky-shan, Jay’el, Ki-en, and the twin giants were all in attendance. Although the twins had no control over their metaforce, Sullyan’s link with them meant she had access to their life force provided they were willing. They hadn’t wanted to be left out.

  Sullyan noticed the absence of the Journeyman-ranked Vanyr and pursed her lips. She was disappointed that the man hadn’t felt able to participate, particularly since she had assumed they were now on easier terms. Still, he had made her a gift of his teaching, and it would prove invaluable. She suddenly wondered if that was why he had offered it, knowing he wouldn’t be here today. She let it go, having no strength to waste on speculation.

  The Hierarch brought them all to order and Sullyan tried to compose herself. The assimilation of life force couldn’t be undertaken lightly. There were lives at stake, and she had never actually done this before. She hoped she was hiding her trepidation from the others better than she was from herself.

  Pharikian gestured her toward a chair in the center of the room. Settling comfortably, she closed her eyes. She didn’t need to see who was making the offer, and watching their reactions as she accepted would be a distraction she could do without. Silence filled the room.

  She heard Pharikian stir and expected him to be first, but it was Robin who approached and kneeled before her. He took up her hands and they effortlessly established their familiar link. She felt no hesitation in Robin as he opened himself unreservedly to her. Very gently, so gently that had he not known her so intimately he wouldn’t have been aware of her touch, Sullyan reached out and took what he offered. He felt no different, she knew. He already considered his life to be hers. Briefly, she opened her depthless eyes and smiled. Robin squeezed her hand and stood up.

  Pharikian came forward then, and his experience was as gentle as Robin’s. She sensed his amazement at the lightness of her touch. Assimilating his life force, however, was not as easy for Sullyan. The Hierarch was a Senior Master, a full level above her own skills, and his well of power was so vast that it took her breath away. She struggled to contain what he gave her and he stayed close, watching her carefully until she was stable. Then he broke their link.

  Her face felt white with strain and she wondered whether she had done the right thing. But then her eyes cleared. Pharikian was still watching her closely and she smiled, allowing him to see how she had managed his vast store of power. Compartments had been created within her mind, her own and Robin’s power on one side, Pharikian’s on the other. They were linked by the bond of her Andaryan blood, blood which originated with him. He nodded in admiration, and withdrew to one side.

  Anjer, a Master Artesan, was next, and now that Sullyan knew how to treat the Andaryan’s power, it was easier on her. After him came Ephan, and then Kryp. Despite the Hierarch’s earlier assurance, she insinuated a question into each of their minds, to satisfy herself that they were completely willing. The only one to experience a moment’s hesitation was Kryp. She was about to refuse him when she felt him give himself fully to the task, and so his gift of life force joined the others’.

  The pirates experienced less of the process than the rest due to their untrained status. They couldn’t have shielded themselves from her consciously, but had they not been willing, a natural barrier would have rendered their minds inaccessible to a whole battalion of Senior Masters.

  Once the process was complete, Pharikian indicated that everyone should remain quiet and still so that Sullyan could come to terms with what she had done. She had surprised herself in her ability to take them all. She knew she would have no trouble with Robin, and hadn’t been too surprised at her capacity to accept Pharikian, despite the scope of his powers. She had, however, expected to reach her limit after accepting Anjer. The fact that she had then been able to assimilate three more Adepts-elite plus four untrained minds was something she needed to think about.

  Finally, she came to terms, and only the fire opal pulsing in the hollow of her throat betrayed the rapid beat of her heart. Pharikian approached her and she sensed his dismay at the tears standing in her eyes.

  “What is it, Brynne? Is the pressure too great?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak. When her voice returned, it was husky with emotion. “Such selfless generosity, Timar. How can I possibly stand it?”

  Smiling gently, he took her hand and raised her. “Think of it as a gift between friends, child. A gift freely given, to show how we love you.”

  His words hit her like a punch to the stomach and she gasped. She stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and he stared back, clearly alarmed. Rooted to the spot, she struggled to breathe. They were all staring at her, confused, and Pharikian took her by the shoulders. Through the urgency of his touch she could feel his concern, his fear that she was suffering another attack like the one that had hit her on the Tower. In a way, she was.

  Blindly, she stared at him. “A gift freely given!”

  He frowned, uncomprehending. Robin stepped forward, also frightened by her demeanor, and she knew she wasn’t making any sense. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and clutched at the Hierarch’s arm. “Majesty, I must speak with you!”

  Bemused, he let her lead him out of the audience chamber and she closed the door firmly behind them.

  + + + + +

  Robin stood alone, completely at a loss. He had no idea what had just happened, and his feelings were in turmoil. The Major had clearly remembered something important, but whether it was good or bad he didn’t know. All he could do was wait and trust she would tell him in time.

  After a few moments, the door opened and he heard the Hierarch’s voice summoning one of his pages. A young boy went to him and came back in seconds. He sped through the chamber and out into the opposite corridor. Five minutes later, he returned at a dead run, carrying something Robin thought he recognized but couldn’t immediately identify. He could see that everyone in the room was watching him as if he knew what was happening, but like them he was totally baffled.

  The blare of a horn from outside made everyone jump. Robin’s heart thudded painfully. Surely it wasn’t time already? But Anjer was rising and moving to the door, ready to inform his monarch if Pharikian hadn’t heard the signal. The Hierarch reappeared immediately, Sullyan following. Both wore grim expressions, but Robin thought he detected a gleam of triumph—or at least hope—in Sullyan’s golden eyes.

  Pharikian was speaking to her as he strode into the chamber.

  “… you’d have to be very careful. I don’t like it, Brynne, and I can’t publicly condone it, but if you think you can do it, then you have my blessing.”

  She gave him a brief glance. “I thank you, Majesty. That is all I need.”

&nb
sp; Robin kept his voice low as he fell into step beside her. “What was that all about?”

  “Not now,” she murmured, and squeezed his arm.

  He heard the honor guard approaching down the corridor and his heart thumped sickeningly. Pharikian gave the box containing Sullyan’s sword to Anjer, who as her second had the right of arming her. Surrounded by the honor guard, they left the audience chamber, Pharikian leading and Sullyan next, flanked by the massive Anjer, who dwarfed her completely. Robin and the others followed in their turn.

  In the courtyard, the horses were ready. This time Drum was present, looking fit and sleek. He stood quietly awaiting his rider, but Robin could see his muscles quivering as he sensed the tension in the air. They mounted up, and once again the entire royal household turned out to watch them leave. This time the acclaim was for Sullyan, and she raised a hand in acknowledgement. Commander Vanyr led the honor guard, and Robin saw Sullyan regarding him closely. Vanyr steadfastly refused to look at her and his eyes were hard. Robin frowned. What was his problem? He let it go. He had more pressing matters to worry over.

  On leaving the courtyard and emerging onto the white-paved Processional Way, Robin noticed a small carriage waiting to one side. Drawn by a single pony, it held two people, and he smiled when he saw who they were. Idrimar waved at Sullyan as she passed, and Marik lifted his thumbs in encouragement. She acknowledged their support gratefully, and Robin nodded their way.

  Once again, the heralds’ fanfare sounded and the Citadel gates swung open as the cavalcade reached them. The guards manning the walls, the sentries, the Velletian Guard, and the forces outside the gates all added their voices to the roar of approval that met ruler, warlords, and the Champion of the Crown. Robin felt a lump come into his throat and suddenly thought of Bull and the others up on their hill. As soon as he did so, the big man’s presence flooded his mind, comforting, bolstering, encouraging. Robin thanked him silently and set his gaze firmly ahead as the party rode around the perimeter wall toward the south gate, the same gate that he, Sullyan, and Marik had entered by all those weeks ago.

 

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