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Legend of Ecta Mastrino Box Set

Page 71

by B J Hanlon


  He tugged and pulled like a man trying to verify a slew of knots wouldn’t slip. He pulled at the belt that held Edin’s longsword.

  “You are a philios,” Le Fie said, his face was stern but Edin understood.

  That is all you are. Edin nodded.

  Arianne was in a long black skirt with a black blouse. It was a much more feminine uniform, but clearly designed by the same unimaginative person. The fist was much larger though, covering her midriff all the way up to her chest.

  “This is awful,” Arianne said as she pulled her necklace out from beneath the top.

  Then he saw the connection, why they looked so familiar. The gemstones on her necklace, they were from the crown and were supposed to be the same as the fist symbol.

  “Put those away,” Edin whispered.

  She raised an eyebrow but he just tapped the symbol on his chest. She tucked them back into her blouse before anyone could see them.

  “You still look beautiful,” Edin said.

  “You look… better.” She grinned and kissed him.

  It took a while before all the fussing was over, and they headed up the flagstone road. Up because that was the way the road lead. The foot traffic lessened as a castle loomed. It hid behind a small wall, barely eight feet high. The city, although much more colorful, could’ve been anywhere.

  “That’s the university,” Le Fie said pointing at a huge square building that took up multiple city blocks. It was a dull gray like the castle.

  Across the boulevard, he noticed a large sign that read Delrot Magi Appropriation Services.

  “The last piece of my father’s kingdom.” She sighed. “You know, this place was a dead island when our ancestors first found it. Even the volcano was dead.”

  Edin looked up at the giant mountain holding the castle in its shadow.

  “Now look at the place: a thriving city, towering buildings, a gracious people. It is all a testament to how wonderful the magi are.”

  Edin looked at a depiction of a man in a bright robe preaching, he hoped it was preaching at least, over a cowering crowd.

  “That’s Taming the Populous, a reproduction, the original hung in Vostine. It’s meant to depict our nature, our power and standing with relation to the mundane world. Even your elf friends. See the group off to the right.” She pointed.

  Edin noticed the large eared elves off to the side wearing tattered rags for clothes. Edin adjusted his grip on Arianne’s hand. It was sweaty.

  Despite all of the colorful buildings, it was odd that the castle and university… and a tower to the west were the only gray structures.

  As they approached, he saw the seamless walls curving around the castle and melding into the mountain. They moved through the open gate.

  Flanking it was a pair of lackadaisical guards who barely even looked at their group. Both wore light blue capes hanging off the sides of their shoulders.

  “Wind magi,” Le Fie explained. “We’re very color coordinated here.”

  “It’s always been that way,” Arianne said absently.

  Le Fie glanced at her quizzically but said nothing.

  Beyond the gates, they came to a large courtyard, flower beds ran along a red cobblestone path. Thin trees skirted paths splitting off to the left and right like fences.

  Carved statues stood tall in the flower beds, all men and women with long robes. Some held blades, others staffs. One man was blindfolded but somehow looked fierce…

  The path opened into a large palatial patio with a huge fountain in the center. A trio of birds made to look as if in flight were sprouting water from their beaks.

  As the group rounded the fountain, he noticed three men at the far side. Two stood in front of a man sitting lazily on the fountain’s edge. He had a foot on the surround as if he owned the place, the other two were laughing absurdly loud.

  Suddenly, the laugher’s head snapped around, he was fair skinned, had a beak for a nose, and had the same dark locks of Le Fie.

  He took a passing interest in the group, glanced at their escort then stared more intently. He was young, early twenties maybe. They locked eyes and Edin noticed a twitch of the lip.

  The man whispered something and an even more boisterous, perhaps sycophantic, laugh exploded from his companions.

  Edin ignored it. About ten yards before the wide stone steps that led to the huge red steel front door, they turned right. More statues flanked them, some men, and some animals.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The Praesidium,” Le Fie said.

  Arianne took a deep inhalation of breath, she stopped and squeezed his hand harder. She was staring at one statue. An man, in his forties, Edin guessed.

  He looked to the base, there was a nameplate in gold.

  King Alcor Bestavienne

  Final Ruler of the Kingdom of Bestoria

  The statue barely resembled the painting he’d seen, but Arianne seemed to have knew the face just the same.

  “What is it?” Le Fie asked. He and Flack had stopped a few yards before them and were staring.

  “It’s nothing,” Edin said quickly giving her hand another squeeze. He caught her eye, there were tears beginning to form. He tried to smile, but she looked away.

  “I’m okay,” she said wiping her eyes. She didn’t look okay, but this wasn’t the time. They hadn’t discussed what she would say when she arrived. Where she was from, who her parents were…

  Edin didn’t think that saying ‘I’m the heir to your throne, let me rule you,’ would sit well with this FAE.

  They moved on, Le Fie took them toward a giant domed building near the eastern wall. More statues flanked the arched opening and a grooved colonnade ran around the outer perimeter.

  There were flowers around it and other small statues.

  Above the entrance was the likeness of a woman with a book and a man with a gavel. Below it, etched in seamless stonework was a phrase he couldn’t read.

  “It says Grand Praesidium of Delrot,” Arianne said.

  “You speak Ulstapish?” Le Fie asked.

  She nodded once.

  An inner wall ran even to the colonnade making a sort of outdoor hallway that curved beyond sight. Le Fie led them forward through an arched doorway and stopped. He stood at the center not making a sound.

  Edin skirted to one side and saw a huge indoor amphitheater. At least twenty, maybe even thirty rows of benches descended toward a platform at the bottom. A long judges bench sat in the middle with three men. Two in the center and one off to the right like the weird kid at a school lunch.

  A horn blared in fitful bursts causing Edin to jump. It cut off after maybe five notes and a loud voice boomed from behind it. “Presenting Iashah and the foundlings.”

  “Iashah?” Edin whispered.

  “Quiet,” Le Fie said and began descending the stairs. They followed. Above them, painted on the dome was a depiction of a man in a white robe reaching out toward a giant seated on a throne.

  “That’s the meeting of Vestor the Prophet and Losilin, the creator god.” Said Arianne.

  “Vestor as in the god who founded the Vestion? He was real…”

  Arianne nodded. “A philios.”

  “I’ve never heard that…”

  “Quiet,” Le Fie whispered. Or was it Iashah?

  They stopped at the bottom, and Le Fie stepped up on a large stone slab behind a lectern.

  Le Fie pressed an open palm to his chest, turned it palm up and pushed it out of his body as if it were a dinner plate.

  “Late as usual. Some of our colleagues had other engagements that could not be missed.” It was the man in the center, his voice reverberating around the room, shaking like his giant jowls.

  Le Fie bowed slightly, but it seemed stiff. A door slammed to the right. Quick footsteps and the flash of dark hair appeared in the periphery.

  Edin saw it was the young man from the fountain. The laugher.

  The man in the center was staring at Le Fie with dark nearl
y black eyes.

  The First Among Equals, Edin assumed.

  “I was told five.”

  “Hmm…” he paused for a moment and looked past him. “Well, we have enough here to accept the foundlings.” He waived his hand in a slow circling motion as if to say get on with it.

  Le Fie waived Flack up to the lectern. “I bring you Flack, son of Ashica. He is a mundane…”

  “Yes, we know of Ashica’s boy. Your father has done many services for me in the past. My name is Pharont Otembo, I am the FAE, the First Among Equals.” The man stuck out his chest and raised his chin, actually, it was multiple chins.

  Below, he could see the curvature of a giant stomach beneath Pharont’s yellow robe.

  Pharont raised a hand out as if offering Flack something then swept it across the room. “Should you need anything, feel free to inquire. As you are a mundane and under the adult age, you will be placed in our Younger’s School.” He said Younger’s as if it were a name of the place and not just the age. “We demand only that you try your best, learn and help with chores that all must partake in.”

  Flack frowned but then bowed stiffer than Le Fie. “Thank you,” he croaked.

  Pharont bowed his head only. More of a nod Edin thought.

  “And the young lady, Arianne… she is a Gusoria. I regret I have no other information with which to announce her.”

  Arianne squeezed Edin’s hand and stepped forward, pulling him to stand next to her.

  “Master Otembo, First Among Equals.” Arianne dropped Edin’s hand and made the same sort of salute that Le Fie did. “I am honored that you have taken the time from your day to greet us.” She spoke with the cadence of a seasoned orator… another skill she probably learned when she wasn’t sewing doilies.

  “You are most welcome Lady Arianne.” Pharont paused for a moment, glanced to his right. Edin saw the look and followed it. Far above, on the left side of the amphitheater and near an open passage, was a man cloaked in black. “Your manner is interesting. Are you from a noble line?”

  Edin took her hand. Suddenly, he knew what she was going to do.

  She didn’t know these people or what Le Fie told him about their power… about how this man would react. Edin felt a sharp pang in his stomach.

  Arianne looked at him, she smiled and slowly pulled it away. “It will be okay,” she whispered before taking a step forward.

  “Don’t…” but the words barely came over his tongue when she stepped up to the lectern.

  “My name is Arianne Bestavienne. Only daughter of Alcor Bestavienne of the noble line by the same name.”

  Shivers ran down his spine. Her tone was the same knowing, proud, and powerful one she’d used on him when they first met.

  “I am heir to the kingdom of Bestoria.”

  Someone gasped, another laughed, and a look of confusion came over Le Fie.

  Pharont brought both of his hands onto the bench and clasped them together. His mouth which had dropped snapped shut causing large jowls to gyrate.

  The man to Pharont’s side spoke first. “Lady Arianne… if that is your real name, please do not take us for fools. You certainly cannot be…”

  “I am she. During the last weeks of the war, my father’s advisor, master magi Lorno, escorted me to Erastio’s Rise… also known as Eagle’s Keep.”

  “You know of that place? It was said to be legend.”

  “I do. I have stayed their on many occasions… a rather long one recently as it were… Lorno I assume cast the opeliniumica spell on me and me alone in order that I may survive the war.”

  Pharont glanced toward the hooded man. The hood moved almost imperceptibly. But it was a nod. “That spell is known to us.”

  “Erastio’s Rise is where Master Edin found me… shortly after I had awoken.”

  “She reads Highborn and her accent is… different,” Le Fie interrupted.

  Pharont’s dark eyes moved between the three of them. He cleared his throat, it took him a few moments.

  “I am Mersett Bolisona,” the man sitting alone said. “I know of the spell. It is fascinating. If used someone needs to be sacrificed and the land around would wither and die…”

  Edin pictured the mountains and the draugr. Vicilu. Was he the sacrifice?

  “There is little life left in the Crady Mountains, where the keep was.” Arianne said.

  Edin shifted remembering the Dematians.

  “Was? Where the keep was? You mean to say it is no longer?”

  Arianne nodded. “We came under assault when the Por Fen attacked; it has been destroyed. Edin and I barely escaped with our lives.”

  “Iashah?”

  “There was word of a mobilization some time back, men did march into the mountains,” Le Fie said. “They are harsh lands, nearly impenetrable.”

  Suddenly Pharont was looking directly at Edin. “And Edin, son of the traitor Rihkar…” he paused letting the venom seep from his voice like an over salivated serpent. “We’ll get to you in a moment, how did you find this place?”

  He swallowed, glanced at Arianne then back up at the men. He didn’t want to lie… at least much. These were the people he’d be stuck with for the rest of his life. “A map,” Edin said, “on the wall of a cavern in the Great Cliffs…”

  There was a little conversation between Pharont and his right-hand man who was sitting to the left. The loner stared at them and the hooded figure at the back made no movement.

  Edin swallowed.

  Feet padded off to his right and he saw the young laugher walking behind the council’s bench. He stopped behind the FAE and his left-hand man, bent over and whispered into their ears.

  Pharont’s eyes seemed to be moving around the room but not focusing on anything in particular.

  “If it is true what you say… do you have any proof?” Mersett said. He was old and Edin could see the blue veins through nearly transparent skin. The white mustache was groomed and rose at the ends.

  “I have the Blossom Stone and the Sun Stone. Two of the kingdom’s Ballast Stones.”

  “They were left in your care?” Mersett said. “We were made to understand they were hidden by the king’s royal magi.”

  “No one has found me in a thousand years. I’d say that is pretty well hidden,” Arianne said not looking at Edin. Was she implying that she had been in possession of the stones?

  Le Fie glanced at Edin then started. “The prophecy states–”

  “Quiet Iashah…” Pharont said. “Very well my lady. I will not pass judgment on your claim at this time. Knowing the spell name is peculiar. I will offer you a place in the palace so that we can get to know you and find out if what you say is true.”

  Arianne nodded and turned back toward Edin, a coy grin on her face as if saying ‘I told you, trust me.’

  Pharont rang a bell and a servant came out with a tray and a few goblets. He rushed them up to the bench and held it out. The FAE, the man behind him, and the left hand man, each took one. None was offered to Mersett.

  After a deep gulp Pharont said. “Now, I wish to hear from the boy.” His voice seemed to get stiffer.

  Le Fie looked at Edin and he felt the shivers returning. He thought about the flask in his pocket, it was empty.

  “This is Edin de Yaultan. Son of Rihkar Harlscot and Lady Laural de Yaultan. A Philios.” Edin heard a cough from Mersett. “He is a foundling, though it is more apt to say he found us. Edin–”

  Pharont cleared his throat like a pig snorting. “I do not need a fanciful story from the son of that traitor.” He turned his eyes to Edin. They were cold and dark. Edin noticed the same in the younger man standing behind him.

  “Edin, son of a mad man on your father’s side… and a traitorous house on your mother’s. If the lady behind you is to be believed, your family took part in the murder of hers. Are you aware of these transgressions?”

  Edin’s eyes shot toward Le Fie for a second then back at Pharont. “I know nothing on either account. I have not seen my supp
osed father in at least ten years,” Edin said feeling Arianne’s eyes on him. “As for my maternal family, I am but a man of eighteen years. I was not around during the rebellion.”

  “But your blood bares the responsibility of your ancestors, as all of ours do,” Pharont said and leaned to his right and then behind listening to words of the men. The younger man behind was clearly the First’s son.

  “Your father abandoned our people, fled our lands, and ran into the arms of our enemies. Even his own family disowned him and by extension you. I decree that you are not welcomed in Delrot.”

  Arianne gasped, Le Fie stepped forward.

  “Master Otembo, please do not say what I believe you are going to say,” Mersett said. “I may be just the librarian and scholar on the council, but you cannot banish a boy without the full vote of the council.”

  “We know not his loyalties. He could be a Por Fen spy.”

  “I doubt that,” Le Fie said.

  Pharont grew slightly red. “He is of traitorous blood…”

  “The isles offer refuge to all magi fleeing the mundane world,” Mersett said in a cool and even tone. “Banishment may only be induced by the vote of the full council.”

  “Then I call a vote.”

  “For a boy who has come seeking refuge? He has committed no crimes. Why is it you persecute this boy?”

  Edin grew red, the old man was defending him but still calling him a boy. He was a man, he didn’t need any of these people. He didn’t want to leave Arianne… but these were her people not his.

  “If you wish, I will leave,” Edin said through gritted teeth. “I am no boy, nor am I my father. If you wish to wield your incredible girth over me, I will do nothing to stop you. I haven’t the strength.”

  Pharont grew redder.

  Edin stared directly into the man’s eyes, he was the FAE, the leader no matter what the old man said and Edin couldn’t stop him. But he wasn’t going to let them dishonor him any longer.

 

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