The Sorcerer’s Guardian

by Antonia Aquilante

  Lord Etan was undeniably as handsome as he was intelligent. Tall with thick dark hair and the classically handsome features shared by the men of the royal family, as well as a trim body always dressed in fashionable, richly colored clothing, Lord Etan made a striking figure. Savarin would be lying if he denied being tempted to see if Lord Etan might have been interested in an affair at one point, despite how much younger than Savarin he was. Over ten years. But he hadn’t. He didn’t need a lover questioning his origins, and Lord Etan was the type of man who would want to know about Savarin.

  “Master Savarin, thank you for coming up to the palace today,” Lord Etan said.

  “Of course, my lord. I’m happy to.”

  Lord Etan nodded and stood. “Their Highnesses would like to hear your progress as well, and I’ve been told they’re available now.”

  He hadn’t expected to speak with Prince Philip and Prince Amory directly today but had no problem doing so. Walking with Lord Etan from the office and through the palace, he let Lord Etan lead, though Savarin realized quickly that they were on their way to the princes’ office. Lord Etan didn’t seem inclined to talk, or at least not about Savarin’s purpose for coming up to the palace that day. But Savarin didn’t want to spend the whole walk across the palace in silence.

  “If I may ask, how are Master Tristan’s daughter and sister?” he asked. When Master Tristan’s baby daughter had been kidnapped, she had been with his sister, who had been snatched as well. He’d heard nothing of them since they’d been found and brought home, not that he’d expected to, unless he was needed again for some magical purpose.

  “The baby is fine. She wasn’t hurt, and she’s too little to remember what happened. Tristan’s sister… well, she’s handling it. Physically she’s just fine, but the experience has left her anxious. She’s had a few nightmares. Her family is taking care of her,” Lord Etan said. “She’ll be all right.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Me too.” Lord Etan’s brow furrowed for a moment before smoothing out, his expression clearing. “Thank you for your concern. I’ll let Tristan know you asked after them. He would thank you as well.”

  He hadn’t known Master Tristan, merchant and—if he wasn’t mistaken—lover of Lord Etan, before his daughter was kidnapped, so his only image of the young man was that of frantic father of a missing child. But Master Tristan had written a note to Savarin, which had found its way to him through the palace guard, thanking him for all he’d done. It was a considerate gesture from one who likely had plenty to deal with even with his daughter and sister returned to him.

  When they arrived, Lord Etan rapped on the door to the princes’ private study before opening it. Savarin followed him into the room. He liked this study. There was another office, a far more formal room, that the princes used for the majority of their meetings with others. Savarin knew he’d achieved some level of trust when Prince Philip began meeting with him in this room and not the more formal one.

  When he entered the room, Prince Philip was leaning over the shoulder of his husband, Prince Amory, who sat at his desk with a sheaf of papers in front of him. The two men were quite different in appearance—Prince Philip with the look of the royal family in his stature and dark hair, and Prince Amory slightly shorter and more delicate with his auburn hair and pale ivory skin. Savarin had thought him beautiful the first time he’d seen him and had no trouble seeing what attracted Prince Philip to him, even if Prince Amory’s appearance wasn’t Savarin’s usual type. He’d seen quickly that the differences in the two men meshed well, making them a formidable pair and very much in love.

  As the princes looked up, Savarin bowed to them. He straightened only when Prince Philip spoke. “Good afternoon, Master Savarin.”

  “Good afternoon, Your Highness.”

  “Please, sit,” Prince Amory said, gesturing to a chair in front of the study’s desks as Prince Philip returned to the chair behind his own desk.

  “Thank you, Your Highness.” Savarin settled himself in the chair Prince Amory indicated. Lord Etan took the one beside it.

  “Etan has told us about your project, of course,” Prince Philip said. “Tell us what progress you’ve made.”

  Savarin had brought his concerns about the changes in the protections surrounding Tournai to Lord Etan originally because of anyone he might have brought the matter to—the princes, Duke Cathal, Lord Etan—Lord Etan was the one with the most chance of understanding his interest and his concern. Lord Etan was a scholar himself, probably more of a scholar than Savarin was, and one that had a keen interest in the history, legends, and magic of Tournai. He was well aware that Lord Etan would inform the princes and would therefore have to explain what the problem was to the princes as well. Prince Philip and Prince Amory were not stupid men by any stretch of the imagination, but Savarin still didn’t want to have to explain magical matters to them if he didn’t have to.

  “Yes, Your Highness.” He summarized his efforts at research, though it galled him that they hadn’t amounted to much information at all. Only a pile of speculation. If something useful lurked within it, he hadn’t been able to discern it yet. “My travels were slightly more fruitful, at least with gathering information about what condition the protections are in.”

  “What did you find?” Prince Philip asked.

  “I traveled the majority of our eastern border with Elleri before I had to return to Jumelle. From what I’ve seen, the barrier formed by the protections follows the border, or at least it does in that area. I did find spots where it seemed weaker.”

  “Weaker how?” Prince Amory asked.

  He fumbled for a moment to find the words to explain it to someone with no training in sorcery. He might have struggled to explain it to someone with training as well—the protections didn’t behave like any others he had ever seen. “Think of the protections surrounding Tournai as a barrier, a thin but strong wall, Your Highness. In a couple of spots, the wall has gotten thinner, weaker. As if someone has been pushing at it, wearing it away.”

  “Trying to get through it,” Lord Etan murmured.

  Savarin hesitated, then nodded. “I can’t be absolutely sure how it was weakened yet, but it appears so, my lord.”

  “And can they get through?” Prince Philip asked, cutting to the heart of the matter. “Is Tournai vulnerable?”

  Savarin hated to admit he didn’t know. “It’s difficult to say, Your Highness. If only because I don’t know the original intent of the protections. Obviously to protect Tournai, but against what—magical attacks? All invasions? We haven’t been attacked since the protections went up, if I’m estimating the timing correctly, so it’s difficult to tell.”

  “And we don’t know what the original intent was,” Lord Etan mused. “I’m researching in the family archives to see if I can find any references for you.”

  “It would be helpful to know what they were meant to do. All I can tell at this point is that parts of the protections are weakening. In what appears to be a deliberate fashion, as I said, as if someone is testing them, not as if they’re wearing away on their own, which I would expect to be slightly more uniform. Though that’s a possibility as well.” If the spells were weakening on their own—which he was surprised hadn’t happened already given that the spells had been put in place centuries ago—he’d expect them to be weakening along the whole border at the same rate. “I haven’t investigated the rest of Tournai’s borders yet, but I plan to as soon as possible.”

  “What do you expect to learn?” Prince Philip asked.

  “If there are any more spots that have weakened. I want to map them so we know where they are. I also want to confirm that the protections follow the current borders.”

  The princes both nodded, but Lord Etan seemed contemplative. Savarin wondered if they realized all the implications of what these spells were and that they were still in place. He doubted it, though perhaps Lord Etan had some idea, and he wanted more information before he laid out all
his theories for them.

  “What’s your plan? Lord Etan said you wanted to strengthen the protections if you can?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Savarin replied to Prince Philip. “I don’t want to leave those weak spots as they are. First I need to find all of them, and to confirm my theories about the protections. And I need to figure out how the spells work. If I can’t, then anything I do to strengthen the spells and do away with the weak spots will be nothing more than a patch. It won’t be as strong, and it won’t last anywhere near as long.”

  If it took at all, but he didn’t say that. He’d find a way to make the patches stick if he had to, but he didn’t plan on having to. He would figure out how the spells were put into place and what kept them working so long after their creators’ deaths. The protections had to be anchored to something, somehow, and he would find out what.

  Prince Philip nodded once more, so Savarin continued. “I plan on finishing a circuit of Tournai’s borders first. To find any other weak spots and investigate the spells as I go. I can continue researching the history when I return, and perhaps Lord Etan will find something helpful as well.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Lord Etan said. “The archives aren’t in the best condition. Mostly they’re just horribly disorganized, but the majority of the records are well preserved. Some have deteriorated. Probably because they chose not to go to an outsider to have preservation spells put on them.” Lord Etan sounded both insulted and resigned by his own statement, probably the result of being both scholar of history and member of a secretive royal family.

  “All we can ask is your best, Etan,” Prince Amory said with a smile for his cousin by marriage.

  A sharp knock came at the door as Lord Etan chuckled. Prince Philip called out a command to enter. “Captain Loriot,” Prince Philip said after the door opened and closed, “perfect timing. Thank you for joining us.”

  “Of course, Your Highness. You had need of me?”

  Savarin glanced over as Loriot stepped up beside Lord Etan’s chair. The captain looked his usual competent self this afternoon; Savarin hadn’t seen him look less than competent in all of their association. His thick, dark hair all in place, short beard neatly trimmed, deep red and brown uniform perfectly pressed. The royal seal was embroidered on its breast, his captain’s insignia displayed on the jacket’s arm.

  “Yes, Captain,” Prince Philip said. “Master Savarin will be traveling along Tournai’s borders on an important mission for us. I’d like you to accompany him.”

  Shock stole Savarin’s thoughts for a moment, but the protest came quickly. “Your Highness, that’s hardly necessary.”

  “There have been reports of bandits in the area, perhaps crossing the border in and out of Amaranta,” Prince Philip said with an inquiring glance at Loriot.

  “Yes, Your Highness. There are, of course, patrols out looking for them,” Loriot said, supplying the requested information.

  “I’m sure the patrols will take care of the problem,” Savarin said, trying to keep his voice even and calm. Amaranta was the neighboring kingdom to Tournai’s west, one that Tournai had a good relationship with. Savarin had traveled extensively in Amaranta and knew it well enough to be assured that Amaranta would have its own patrols out too if the bandits were troubling them as well. The bandits would be found before long. “And in the meantime, I’ll be fine on my own, Your Highness.”

  “I think it best you have someone with you.”

  “I need not remind you that I’m a powerful sorcerer, Your Highness. I can take care of myself,” Savarin said through gritted teeth. He didn’t need a nursemaid or a protector.

  “No, you needn’t.” Prince Philip’s voice was mild. “Nevertheless, all it would take is one bandit catching you unaware while you concentrate on the magic, and none of your power would help you.”

  “I hardly think that likely, Your Highness.”

  “Likely or not. I think it’s possible, and I don’t want that to happen.” Prince Philip glanced at Loriot, standing silently by. Lord Etan and Prince Amory were silent as well. “Captain Loriot will accompany you on your journey to ensure your safety.”

  Savarin wanted to argue. He didn’t want anyone with him on this trip; he preferred to work alone, to travel alone. He didn’t need anyone with him, especially not for protection. But he also recognized the futility of arguing with Prince Philip at this point. He probably shouldn’t argue with Prince Philip at any time, but sometimes a discussion was warranted.

  Apparently not today.

  “Yes, Your Highness,” he said, giving in as gracefully as he could.

  Prince Philip nodded and turned to Loriot. “Keep Savarin safe while he does what he needs to do, Captain. Brief your second because you may be away from the city for some time.”

  “Your Highness, perhaps it would be best to send someone else, even several guards, with Master Savarin,” Loriot said far more diplomatically than Savarin had managed, though he could see Loriot wanted to go with him as little as he wanted Loriot to. “My place is here, with you.”

  “I do not need several guards.” Savarin couldn’t resist saying it, though Loriot was the only one who spared him a look.

  “You’ve trained your second well, and he’s experienced. We’ll be fine without you for a little while, and we’ll call you back if we need you.”

  Loriot obviously heard the unyielding note in Prince Philip’s voice too. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Good. Speak to Master Savarin about his plans.”

  And that was plainly a dismissal. Savarin was going to have company on his travels whether he liked it or not.

  He didn’t like it.

  Chapter 3

  LORIOT HADN’T expected the summons to the princes’ study to go as it had. Or anything close to how it had. And from the expression on Savarin’s face, he hadn’t expected Prince Philip’s edict either.

  “I don’t need you to come with me.” Savarin waited to speak until they were out of the study and far enough down the corridor to be out of earshot of the guards stationed near it.

  “And nevertheless, I have to go with you.” Loriot couldn’t ignore an order from Prince Philip, even if he thought the action to be an ill-advised use of his time. Any of his guards could accompany Savarin and make sure no one snuck up on him. Loriot was needed in the palace in Jumelle, not haring off after Savarin on whatever his mission was. Loriot’s mission, every day, was to keep the princes and their family safe.

  “I don’t need a minder or a protector.” Savarin didn’t raise his voice, but his tone was firm, one that probably intimidated all the lesser mortals the great sorcerer dealt with. Loriot wouldn’t be intimidated.

  “Prince Philip believes otherwise, and though I believe I’m needed here to ensure the safety of the royal family, I cannot disobey his order.” Even if he wanted to. He would do his duty to the prince. “The prince has made up his mind. There’s little sense in arguing with him about it.”

  He didn’t add that Savarin had tried and hadn’t gotten far. He didn’t need to—the disgruntled look in Savarin’s eye told Loriot he realized that quite well.

  “It’ll be a waste of your time. I can protect myself quite well should I need to. But I doubt I’ll need to, I’ve traveled in Tournai for years and never had trouble.”

  “Prince Philip wasn’t downplaying the danger of bandits. There have been several attacks and sightings recently. The army is searching for them, but they can’t be everywhere at once.”

  “And I can take care of myself, as I said. I don’t need you along to protect me.”

  As Savarin spoke, Loriot found himself being pushed inexorably backward. But Savarin wasn’t touching him; no one was touching him. And still the unseen force pushed. Panic scraped along his nerves, and his hand twitched toward his sword, but a twitch was all he could manage. His arms were bound tight to his sides, his legs tied as well. He forced his breathing to remain even, ignored his pounding heart. He knew what this was—Sav
arin proving a point—and he wasn’t going to allow himself to react to it. His back collided with the wall, the force of the magic holding him against the plaster. He could think of more appealing situations in which to be pushed up against a wall, but he didn’t say that either, not to Savarin.

  “Yes, fine. I see your point. You can take care of yourself, but if someone takes you unaware while you’re involved in one of your spells or not paying attention to your surroundings, they could slit your throat before you realize anyone is there. All the power in the world won’t help you then.” Loriot stared hard at Savarin, both because he wanted to get his message across clearly and because he refused to show the instinctive fear that shot through him at the magic being used against him. Even if that magic was only being used to make a point.

  Loriot’s stare seemed to have no effect on Savarin, who loomed over him, far closer than he had been before, as Loriot remained pinned to the wall. “I can see the point you’re trying to make as well,” Savarin said finally. “I don’t believe there’s much of a chance of what you’re thinking happening, however.”

  “The point is that it could, and Prince Philip believes it could. You may not want my presence on your mission, and I may not want to accompany you, but neither of us has a choice.” All they could do was hope the army dealt with the bandit problem expeditiously, or that Savarin’s tasks out of the city didn’t take long.

  Savarin let out a sound of disgust, but he stepped back, and Loriot could move. He swallowed down the relieved gasp and stepped away from the wall, straightening his uniform. He regretted that small lapse, but he did keep his eyes on Savarin even through it.

  After a long moment, Savarin gave him a sharp nod, a grudging acquiescence if Loriot had ever seen one, but an end to the argument at least, and that was all Loriot could ask for at the moment.