“Not in the same way,” said Aedan. “Or perhaps not to the same extent.
But I understand what you mean.”
“I have been trying to remember when it changed,” said Michael thoughtfully. “In the aftermath of our last campaign through the Shadow World, perhaps.
That was certainly when it started, but as miserable as I felt afterward, I still don’t think it ever truly struck home until I saw Derwyn ride up and see me standing there over his father’s body, holding his severed, bloody head. I shall never forget the expression on his face. I see it in my dreams.”
“It had to end with either Arwyn’s death or yours,” said Aedan. “Arwyn would have settled for nothing less. Derwyn knew that.”
“Still. I killed his father, then made him a duke and gave him my sister for his wife, as if that could make up for it. And now we travel to Seaharrow, where he plays host to us for Summer Court.” He shook his head. “It all seems mad. At least a dozen times, I have thought of forgetting all about this, turning around, and going back to Anuire.”
“You could,” said Aedan. “After all, you are the emperor. No one would question your decision.”
“What about you? I don’t imagine you’re very eager to see Seaharrow once again.”
“I could do without it,” Aedan said. “It holds unpleasant memories.
But we both know this trip is necessary. If we canceled it, Derw-yn would regard it as a snub.”
“Yes, Laera would make sure of that,” said Michael.
“I did him no favor by marrying him off to her.”
“By all accounts, she has made him very happy”
“So they say. I find that difficult to believe. It doesn’t sound much like Laera, does it?”
“Perhaps she’s changed,” said Aedan.
“Do you really believe that?”
“No.”
“Neither do I. She always was a meanspirited little harlot. I’ll never understand what you saw in her.”
“That is because you can only look upon her as a brother,” Aedan said wryly.
Michael remained silent for a moment. Then he asked, “Does Ariel know?”
“Yes. I told her everything.”
“Did you? And how did she react?”
Aedan paused to consider his reply. “She was very understanding.”
“What did she say ?”
Aedan found this topic of conversation awkward, but he could hardly refuse to answer. “She said the past was in the past.”
“And that was all?”
Aedan cleared his throat. “She said Laera would never forgive me, and if Laera ever tried to hurt me, she would kill her.”
Michael chuckled.
“You find that amusing?”
“Only that it sounds like the Ariel I remember from our childhood games.
She nearly killed you once, as I recall.”
“It does not disturb you that my wife has sworn to kill your sister?”
“If she ever tried to harm you, is what you said,” Michael corrected him. “And if it ever came to that, I’d kill her myself.”
Aedan was nonplussed. “Well … I don’t know if I should be flattered or alarmed.”
“If she ever tried to do you any harm, it would be an act of treason,”
Michael said. And then, almost as if in afterthought, he added,
“Besides, you are my best friend.”
“You honor me.”
“No, you honor me,” said Michael. “As emperor, I can have no friends, only subjects. You are the only true friend I have. The only one I can really trust.”
“What about the empress?”
“It is not the same. She is my wife, and I love her. I never expected that. I had looked on marriage as a duty, but I have found it to be a joy. And I have you to thank for it.”
“I cannot claim the credit,” Aedan said. “It belongs to my wife.
Ariel chose her. She said she would be perfect for you.”
“And she was right,” said Michael. “You are fortunate in having such a wife, Aedan. I hope you appreciate her.”
“I do,” said Aedan.
“Well, we have been through much, you and I. We were captured by goblins and almost taken into slavery, we have fought a war and saved the empire, and we have found good wives. Now we must settle down and start having sons who will carry on for us and secure the future.” He stared out into the distance. “I have decided there shall be no campaigns next year. Our army has fought hard and long. They deserve a rest. I shall send the mercenaries out to the frontiers to establish outposts to secure our borders.
The empire is strong now. In time, we shall expand it, but I think my vision of one nation that stretches out across Cerilia from sea to sea is one my son shall have to realize.”
“A wise decision,” Aedan replied, nodding. “A builder must not rush to lay a strong foundation.
You have already done more than any emperor before you. Your father would have been proud.”
“As would yours have been,” said Michael. “There is still much left for us to do. We must have our reckoning with Thurazor, for Gorvanak shall always think we fear him if we do not punish him for taking Arwyn’s side in the rebellion. Aside from which, you and I still have a personal score to settle with those goblins. We have put it off for far too long. I intend to lash Gorvanak to a crude litter, as they did with me, and drag him all the way back to Anuire.”
“I must admit, that is certainly something I would like to see,” said Aedan.
“You shall see it before the summer turns to fall,” promised Michael.
“And after we have done with Gorvanak, there is still the Manslayer to deal with.
Rhuobhe has grown ever bolder in his raids and has expanded his territory well into the forests of Boeruine. He has been a thorn in our side for much too long. I mean to pluck him out. However, after that, we shall cease our campaigning for a while and devote time to our families.”
“I would like that,” Aedan said. “Ariel is with child again and the midwives say it will be a son. In the coming years, I shall need to spend more time at home to supervise his early training and prepare him for the time when your son shall doubtless make him as miserable as you made me when we were children.”
Michael chuckled. “Was it really so bad?”
“To borrow a term your sister used, you were insufferable,” said Aedan.
“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Well, I shall make you a promise, Aedan. After my son is born, I shall take pains to instruct him in how to be more considerate of his future lord high chamberlain.
I shall tell him that when they play at war, dying once is quite sufficient.”
“It usually is,” said Aedan. “I think that is a lesson best learned early. And now, with your permission, I shall take my leave and go back to my wife, before she starts to wonder what became of me.”
Michael nodded. “Tell Faelina I shall be back presently. I feel the need to spend a bit more time alone.”
Aedan hesitated. There was something in his tone…… Is something troubling you?”
Michael shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said.
“The war is over, we have expanded our borders and taken steps to secure them, and save for the future plans I have already mentioned, I cannot think of anything we have left undone.” He paused.
“And yet … I have a peculiar feeling something is not right. But for the life of me, I cannot think what it may be. I don’t know. Perhaps it is merely restlessness on my part. Do not concern yourself. Go back to
Ariel before she starts to feel neglected. I will puzzle it out eventually.”
“Very well,” said Aedan. “I shall tell the empress you’ll be returning shortly.”
“Good night, Aedan. Sleep well.”
“Good night, Michael.”
Aedan turned and stepped down off the wall, then started heading back toward camp. The fires were lit now, and most of the lo
rds and ladies had settled down for the night. Only the soldiers remained awake, gathered round the fires, gaming and talking quietly among themselves.
As he passed the detachment of the house guard that had accompanied the emperor on his walk, Captain Koval moved to intercept him.
“Is everything well with the emperor, my lord?” he asked.
Aedan nodded. “He merely wants some time alone to think. He plans a campaign against Thurazor this summer.”
“That has been the rumor, my lord,” Captain Koval said. “But he has never been anxious about campaigns before. There seems to be something else that troubles him. I have noticed it since we began this journey.
Do you have any idea what it may be?”
Aedan shook his head. “No’. But he has many responsibilities to occupy his mind. The Iron Throne is more than just a seat of glory.
It can be a weighty burden, too. However, he told me he shall be going back to camp presently. We still have a long journey ahead of us, and he is not accustomed to traveling at so slow a pace. I think he is just restless and impatient to reach our destination. There is no need for concern.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Good night, Captain.”
“Good night, Lord Aedan.”
As Aedan left them, he wondered if restlessness was really all it was.
Michael had always been restless and impatient. Perhaps the prospect of taking a year off from campaigning was something he was not looking forward to. Yet he seemed to have meant what he said. Faelina had made him genuinely happy, and for the first time, Michael seemed willing and ready to slow down. Perhaps it was just the idea of being back in Boeruine, at Seaharrow, that was troubling him. Aedan was not looking forward to it himself. But politics demanded it. And they would not be there long before the army came out to make ready for the march on Thurazor.
One more campaign, thought Aedan. Maybe two, at most, if Michael truly was intent on going after Rhuobhe Manslayer after he was done with Gorvanak of Thurazor. It seemed a tall order for one summer, but after that, a year without campaigning would be a welcome respite. He was looking forward to it.
He had seen quite enough of war.
**chapter four**
The preparations for the holding of Summer Court at Seaharrow had Derwyn in a frenzy of activity during the weeks prior to the arrival of the emperor’s party. The years of war had seen most of the duchy’s resources occupied with the campaigns, as well as the supplying of the army and the garrisons.
The maintenance of the castle and the town had not been seen to properly in quite some time, and Derwyn was determined that Seaharrow would look its best when the emperor arrived.
Stonemasons had been gathered from all over the surrounding area and imported from as far away from Diemed and Alamie to repair the cracking mortar that had loosened from the winter freezes of the past nine years.
They had erected extensive frameworks of wooden scaffolding against the castle walls, clambering over it like ants to repair the damage caused by almost a decade of neglect.
The staff of servants hired from the people of the town was tripled to ensure that the interior of the castle was thoroughly swept and scrubbed clean. All the rugs and tapestries were aired and beaten to knock out the dust; worn furniture had been replaced; the arms displayed upon the walls were taken down and polished. Stalls in the stables had to be repaired, along with fresh posts and rails installed for the corrals and new thatch for the roof. The wall sconces for the torches were cleaned and the walls behind them scrubbed to remove soot, and the braziers were scrubbed out and polished so that they would smoke less. The bedding in every room of the castle had been changed, the frames laced with fresh, taut rope to provide good support, the mattresses stuffed anew with fresh straw and pillows with fresh goose down.
The uniforms of the guard needed mending, so Derwyn had ordered new ones made and had insisted that every member of his castle guard clean and polish his chain mail meticulously, replacing any broken links.
Armor was polished and weapons rendered clean and sharp. Inspections were conducted every day, and the guard was drilled repeatedly to ensure that they executed their maneuvers with perfection.
Classes of instruction were held for the servants added to handle the arrival of the court, and the cooks drilled their new assistants to make sure the kitchens would run smoothly. An additional staff of gardeners had been taken on to weed and prune and fertilize, making certain the gravel paths winding through the gardens were immaculate, and cleaning out nests of field mice and insects. Squads of grimy ratcatchers roamed the castle halls at night with their squirming sacks slung over their shoulders, and even the dungeons were cleaned out in case the emperor should decide to inspect them.
In town, the sheriff’s men roamed the streets to make sure citizens had swept them and cleaned up any refuse. Wagons hauled garbage from the alleys out of town, and every shop owner, gaming-hall manager, and tavernkeeper was ordered to make his establishment immaculate. Not even during Arwyn’s time had the town been so extensively refurbished.
Everywhere one looked in the weeks preceding the arrival of the emperor, thatchers repaired roofs, carpenters installed new doors and shutters, and farm wagons brought in barrels of wine and ale, loads of game, and bushels of fresh produce.
Laera saw very little of Derwyn during this time, but that suited her perfectly During the day, while he was running off to town to check on progress for the preparations to receive the emperor, she spent time with Rodric, a younger, more handsome, and better lover than her husband. At night, Derwyn came back exhausted and fell right into bed, fast asleep within moments. Then Callador’s portal would appear, and she would pass through it into his sanctum at Battlewaite to continue her training in sorcery.
Even without Callador to tell her so, she knew she was making rapid progress. In all her life, she had never found anything to interest her as much as
magic did. Her amatory diversions were merely that, diversions, something to add the spice of risk to an otherwise dull and dreary life.
Once she had discovered sorcery, however, she felt she had found her true calling. She looked forward to the nights when she could go to Callador and resume her training, and in turn, the old wizard enjoyed having such a gifted pupil. But the night before the emperor’s party was due to arrive at Seaharrow, there occurred a change in her routine.
Derwyn came to bed late, exhausted from overseeing the final preparations. Through his bond with her, Callador felt when it was the proper time to open the portal, and he could not do so until Derwyn was in bed, where he could safely fall into his trance. As it grew later and Derwyn still did not return, Laera started to feel anxious. All that day, she had felt a nervous anxiety, a presentiment that something would be different tonight, though she did not know what. She had even sent Rodric away, for she felt too preoccupied to spare any time for him. His attentions were becoming bothersome, in any case.
Soon, she would have to figure out some way to be rid of him.
When Derwyn finally came to bed, they spoke for a short while about how all the preparations had progressed-or rather, Derwyn spoke, while Laera made appropriate noises feigning interest, nervously wishing he would shut up and go to sleep.
Derwyn was concerned, anxious because he kept thinking there was something he might have overlooked. He wanted everything to go perfectly, to prove to the emperor and all the other citizens of the empire that the war was in the past and Boeruine was once more first in loyalty and standing.
He might have kept on talking, for despite being tired, he was keyed up and fidgety, but the misty tendrils of Callador’s portal started to appear within the room, and Derwyn dropped into a deep trance.
Laera watched eagerly as the smoky tendrils slowly started moving in a circle, more and more of them appearing as they spun faster and faster, forming a swirling vortex that became the tunnel to the Gorgon’s Crown.
She got out of bed and walked to
ward the misty, swirling portal, disappearing into it as if into a whirlpool composed of fog.
She passed through the sorcerous tunnel and felt the temperature drop, as usual, and goose bumps broke out on her skin. Her hair was blown by the wind within the tunnel. It plucked at her nightdress as she walked against it. Then, at the far end, she saw a light. A moment later, she stepped out of the tunnel, and it collapsed and faded away behind her.
But instead of coming out into Callador’s sanctum, she discovered that, for the first time, she had emerged into some other place.
She glanced around, puzzled. Had something gone wrong with the spell?
The walls of Callador’s sanctum in the depths of Battlewaite were built of large, mortared blocks of stone, but the walls in this place were constructed of another substance. They were jet black and sleek, rough cut, yet with a dark gleam as if they had been polished with a jeweler’s wheel. They seemed to absorb what little light there was, which came from large black, fluted iron braziers placed at intervals along the walls, emitting flames perfumed by some sort of musky incense.
Obsidian, she realized suddenly. The walls were made from blocks of obsidian. She was inside the aboveground portion of Battlewaite, the castle fortress of the Gorgon, Prince Raesene.
She started as she heard a voice behind her. “You are late.”
“Callador!” she said, turning toward him. “What is this? Why are we not in your sanctum?”
“There is no time for questions,” the old wizard said, approaching her.
“Come. His Highness does not like to be kept waiting.”
His Highness? That could only be a reference to Prince Raesene. She realized she was about to meet her tutor’s master, none other than the Gorgon. Her stomach tensed, and her mouth suddenly went dry.
She had never actually expected to meet Prince Raesene. She only came to Battlewaite at night, for a few hours, and spent all her time in Callador I s sanctum, located in the subterranean chambers of the castle. During the time she had studied the mystic arts with the old wizard, she had stopped thinking about why he had returned to contact her in the first place. In all that time, he had never mentioned wanting anything from her, but of course, he did. His tutelage would not come without a price. Laera did not know what that price might be, but as time went on and he said nothing more, she had simply ceased to think about it. Now she was going to find out just what that price would be.
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