“And perhaps more likely to finish the formidable tasks ahead,” Juhl said.
“If they still work,” Arasemis said. He turned to the students with a serious gaze. “To be blunt, none of you is ready for these. Mastery of aerina and chemina before machina.”
“But the builders of these mechans surely hadn’t mastered the first two arcanae,” Marlan protested. “The arcane knowledge was not yet codified, nor complete.”
“The arcanae are never complete,” Arasemis said. “There is always more to discover.”
Fetzer could read the indecision in the master’s face. Arasemis seemed as eager to try on one of the suits as his students were. Fetzer gnashed his teeth at the thought of Arasemis claiming himself as the only one knowledgeable enough to wear a mechan—especially given his missing arm.
“It’s not as if we’re building the mechans ourselves, without mastery of the arcanae,” Fetzer said. “They were safely made, as I’ve demonstrated.”
“And we’ll keep training,” Marlan said. “With new tools that can help assure our success.”
“Any of these mechans might kill any of you,” Arasemis said, “or your companions beside you. It’s one thing to wear flaming gauntlets, but walking with your whole body aflame cannot be taken lightly—to say nothing of wearing it in the chaos of battle. If all of you insist on this path, it will require strictest discipline, complete concentration, and more training with the little time we have to spare.”
“I choose the lamp armor,” Fetzer said.
“No, I will have it,” Arasemis said. “It will be the hardest to tame, followed by the shroud armor, which will be Marlan’s because of his skill in alchemy. Juhl, the wheel armor demands your speed and nimble frame. Rodel, you will wear the arrow armor. And, Fetzer, you will take the forge armor.”
Fetzer became hot with frustration. “Shouldn’t the one-armed man have the mechan with a third punch? I have no such handicap.”
“He is your master,” Marlan said.
Arasemis remained calm. “Your aggressiveness propels you, Fetzer. The hammer mechanism will aid you when your enemies surround you.”
Fetzer kept his mouth shut. He was already plotting how to snatch the lamp armor.
“So we have training to do,” Marlan said.
Arasemis sighed, then looked down at his parchment. “There is so much more to learn, and not only beneath Thorendor. There are tombs down here somewhere, and burial sites scattered across Pemonia that hide more relics and buried history. We could find the missing ingredients of the furywine of the Hrals.
“There is also the story, told in the colonial record and Enildir’s book, about a mysterious shore in the Nake lands that killed men who merely walked upon it. And other tales about the volcanic forge under the Gilgalem Mountains, and the fabled airships, and the wildmen who still live in the Black Forest that Erwold thought could be tamed for Candlestone’s ends. So much can now be revealed and revived…”
“We could spend a lifetime looking for all the Candlestone relics and secret places, Master,” Marlan said. “Shouldn’t we remain focused on our tasks?”
“It is a historic time,” Arasemis said. “Donovan and Rugenhav are on the cusp of war, the perfect backdrop for what will be the Order’s greatest performance since the killing of Hilsingor. And yet, at the same time, Erwold’s writings and clues point to so much that we could use to complete our ultimate task.”
“Airships, if they ever existed, would be the most wondrous weapons,” Fetzer said. “But the mechans are right here, and our skills sufficiently sharp. We shouldn’t waste time looking through dusty tombs for trinkets or machines that never were.”
“I agree with Fetzer,” Marlan said. “I want to find the secrets of Candlestone too, but it seems best to let that wait. We can set our plot in motion and always return to the relics later, to aid future efforts.”
“We are meant to discover all of these tools to ensure our success,” Arasemis said. “Erwold wrote that finding and employing the artifacts of the Order would lead to a widespread collapse of the kingdoms. Embarking on these pilgrimages, as he called them, to the hidden places was my grandfather’s dream. He believed every tool should be gathered first.”
“But the ancients and Erwold could not predict the momentous events of our times,” Marlan said. “Now is the time to take advantage of the political upheaval to overthrow kings with what we have, as you have said.”
“I agree with them, Master,” Juhl said. “It’s what we’ve trained for.”
“And the mechans give us a new advantage,” Rodel said.
“We’ve done well thus far, despite the loss of Bertwil, Morroy, and Garion,” Marlan said. “We must finish what we’ve started so their sacrifice means something.”
“You are right,” Arasemis said. “The temptation of the relics is enormous for me, especially after seeing these mechans with my own eyes after decades of merely reading about them. I wish I had found Erwold’s writings earlier, but we must look forward. We have momentum against the House of Avaleau and the high nobles.”
“Once the kingdoms begin tearing themselves apart, perhaps we’ll take time for the relic hunt to strengthen ourselves,” Marlan said.
“Blood now. Relics later. Much blood after,” Fetzer said.
“Everyone take down the mechans assigned to you,” Arasemis said. “You must dedicate yourself to training with them before we go to Eglamour.”
76. MILISEND
Eglamour Palace, Toulon Ministry
Bloomfade, 3034
Milisend eyed Serdot all evening, waiting for the right moment. He had not seemed to notice her watching. The king’s court was packed with people eager to voice their growing complaints to the throne. Yet Erech was nowhere to be seen. Brugarn claimed he was resting and not taking visitors, so Brugarn presided over the court.
Milisend tried to watch Brugarn and Serdot at once, hating the one and placing her hope in the other. Brugarn had repeatedly denied her entry into the king’s tower. She knew he was consolidating his power on the eve of war with Rugenhav. Her father had already retreated back into himself, content to let Brugarn and Chaultion make his decisions while he hid away.
As Milisend watched, she realized Serdot was not looking at Brugarn like the other courtiers. He was looking across the court, watching someone else. She tried to trace his gaze and guessed it was directed at Lord Reimvick. Deep down she knew Reimvick must have known about Garion, maybe harbored him. Looking back, his behavior was always different, loitering around court longer than others. There was more to it than his professed love of gossip. Serdot may have seen it before anyone else.
Milisend glanced back toward Serdot, but he was gone. Her eyes shot back to Reimvick, who was slowly making his way toward the door. Chaultion interrupted Brugarn’s talk to whisper in his ear. Brugarn in turn whispered to Waldemar.
“Today’s court is suspended until this afternoon,” the steward announced. The courtiers collectively moaned with displeasure but dispersed. Brugarn had already hastened out of the room toward his private chambers.
Milisend searched the crowd for Serdot. Finally she caught sight of him, moving toward Reimvick. She picked her way through the crowd and snatched Serdot’s arm.
“I need to speak with you,” she whispered.
“Princess,” he said with a curt bow. “Perhaps another time.”
“Now, Serdot!”
He was clearly torn, glancing back and forth between Reimvick and her. His irritation was plain to see. “Remember when I saw your black leathers?” he whispered back. “I’m still working on that investigation, you see?” He jerked away from her, but she persisted.
“It is a matter of life and death,” she said, not bothering to mask her desperation.
“Yes, my investigation certainly is,” Serdot said as he turned away.
She grabbed his arm again, digging her nails into his forearm. “You will speak with
me. Remember, if I am to wed Valient, he will no longer be your only master.”
Serdot turned back to her, a faint look of surprise and respect on his face. “Very well, Princess.”
They exited the hall. Still clutching him, she turned Serdot into the right-hand corridor after Reimvick turned left in front of them. She spoke softly.
“I’m sorry to break you off your hunt, Serdot, but I require your service.”
“How may I help, Princess Milisend?”
She ignored his sharp tone. “When will Lord Valient return to Eglamour?”
“I expect him within two weeks.”
“That’s too long. You must help me directly then.”
“I’ve not been informed of the problem, Princess.”
“This is a delicate matter, Serdot. But since you’ve seen me thieving, I’m sure I can depend on your discretion once again. Chief Magistrate Tronchet currently holds a prisoner by the name of Regaume.”
“Your lover in crime.”
Milisend cut her eyes at him. “Yes, and I’m not surprised that you know. But you must also know that he is innocent. Release him, secretly if possible.”
“That would put me in violation of my oath. The marshal is a lawkeeper. As his agent, so am I.”
“Please, Serdot. Regaume is a thief, but he is special to me. And he has not committed the crimes the Ralmogard magistrate claims.”
“How can you be sure?” Serdot asked. “Have you ever seen how he lives when he’s not stealing into the palace to see you, or whisking you off to the woods?”
“I brought you into my personal matters for your help, not your advice. If you are acting on behalf of a lawkeeper and my future husband, then do me this service.”
“As a royal, you can petition Tronchet directly.”
“I’ve tried, with little effect. Tronchet has delayed sending Regaume to Ralmogard, but time is running out, Serdot. You must help me.”
“Your father is the king and thus lord of all lawkeepers.”
“Do I have a father? Have you seen the king? It has been weeks since I’ve been allowed to see him, Serdot. Brugarn sits on the throne even if the crown does not yet sit on his head. Please, I have no one else to turn to.”
“I regret I cannot.”
“Please!” She shamelessly let the tears spill from her eyes.
“You love this Regaume?”
She nodded. “If I’m fated to wed Valient, I will grow to love him. But a part of my heart will always belong to Regaume, whether he lives or dies. Should Regaume live, I will be a happier wife to your master.”
Serdot regarded her cautiously. “Princess, when Lord Valient returns you should petition him directly. I cannot do this myself. I am sorry.”
Milisend struggled to wrangle the rising anger and sadness inside her. “Will no one help me?”
“I’m sorry.” Serdot spun away from her and disappeared into the crowd.
77. BRUGARN
Eglamour Palace, Toulon Ministry
Bloomfade, 3034
“You’ve got your war, my lord.” General Chaultion tossed the dispatches on the table.
“Took longer than I planned,” Brugarn said with a smile. “I didn’t think the Alpenon rebels would take this long to erupt.”
“Asteroth was heavy-handed, as you wanted.” Chaultion absently twisted his white mustache.
“Perhaps not heavy-handed enough. Tell me exactly what happened.”
“You recall the Rugens’ answer to our intent to sell that damned Geras Vilarwef to the Austveedes?”
Brugarn nodded. “I wasted too much time negotiating with that insufferable Vesamune. Ransom at the border and so on.”
“Well, Asteroth found a way to upset those tediously made plans. He sent the body of Geras in a wagon across the bridge, then tossed his head in the river. Your brother only got half the ransom, of course, but the Rugens got only half of Geras.” Chaultion could not stifle a chuckle. “Even we could not think of a better way to spark a good war.”
“Excellent! The Rugens immediately attacked Alpenon?”
“Soon thereafter. That bastard Graf, the Warden of Havelbern, organized a force quicker than Asteroth guessed he would. Your brother’s letter says he was prepared for a flare-up of the Durgens rebels and the movement of Rugen troops into his ministry, but Graf brought more soldiers than he expected. Asteroth requests reinforcements.”
“I will reconvene the court this afternoon to announce that we are at war, as the city will undoubtedly be swirling with rumor. All lord ministers will be called to serve in the kingdom’s defense.” Brugarn could not stifle his own giddy chuckle. “This was well done, General. And it’s only the beginning.”
“And a fine beginning it is, my lord. You will inform the king?”
“I suppose, but not until after court. I’m sure Erech is still sleeping, aided by an extra dose of the queen’s popaver. I’ve made sure they’re both well stocked.”
“The lord ministers will require the king’s clear consent,” Chaultion said.
“I’m the lord minister of Toulon. You needn’t remind me of our traditions. Erech will support the defense of the kingdom, and most will believe it is an unprovoked Rugen invasion. In other matters, how is the suppression of the Borel District going?”
“The rioters are all but defeated,” Chaultion answered. “One of their leaders, Fosset, was killed, but we couldn’t find his deputy, Cid. Unfortunately, the news in the slum is that the Blackhoods from Mordmerg have come to help them.”
“Crush these rebels before you go to Alpenon—no excuses. Send my regards to Asteroth when you see him.”
“I do not plan to travel to the borderlands at this time, my lord. There is much still to do here to prepare the northern armies.”
“You are the High General of the Armies of Donovan. The king would go to the border to defend his honor under normal circumstances. And I, well, I have you to fight and win my wars, General.”
“Lord Asteroth asked that I stay in Eglamour, my lord, to arrange his reinforcements and supplies. He said he does not want, or need, my help.”
“That is because my brother has always seen Alpenon Ministry as his own personal little kingdom. And if that’s how he wants it, fine. So long as he destroys any Rugen army they send across the river.”
“The Rugens will likely invade Gadolin as well, my lord.”
“And Erath will stop them as well. The twins are big men with big swords and fierce hearts. I’m confident in their abilities, and we’ll send them what they need. When Rugenhav is sufficiently drained of soldiers and gold, and when our nobles are properly aligned behind me, we’ll make our move against Erech, and I’ll take Rhunegeld into my hand. They’ll crown me, and I will take a new army south, the savior of my brothers and my kingdom.”
78. FETZER
Thorendor Castle, Wallevet Ministry
Bloomfade, 3034
After some time, Fetzer finally pulled his gaze from the candle’s flame and began to write all that had been filling his head.
Mechan training has progressed well despite the endless cautions from Arasemis. He wears the lamp armor but doesn’t actually use it. Ridiculous. Meanwhile, my forge armor is burdensome. It’s too heavy for wall running, and the hammer perched between my shoulder blades disturbs my balance, especially when deployed against the practice targets. It crushes helmets well enough, but I’d rather torch them with flaming gauntlets. I’ve not given up hope of persuading Arasemis to give me the lamp armor.
Juhl, always deadly beautiful in combat, is stunning to watch in the wheel armor. It is light enough for her to run the walls, then deploy the steel wheels from her boots, quickening her speed further. I’ve never seen a Calbrian landship, but sailing on rocks must sound similar to her wheels on the stone tiles of Thorendor. As with all the mechans, her approach is no longer silent, but her speed denies an opponent any advantage. And replacing her hands with fing
erless anchiclade blades completes her shocking form. Altogether she is nearly impossible to catch or disarm.
Rodel has settled into his arrow armor with a satisfaction I’m jealous of. Arasemis should have given that mechan to me, if not the lamp armor. The small crossbows hidden inside his bulky forearms can shoot four bolts or poison darts simultaneously. The mechanism that recocks the crossbows harnesses his walking movement. Revolutionary.
Only Marlan’s shroud armor appears to use the ancient Naren-Dra preference for illusion over offensive action. He has tested the veins with many alchemical fluids. Once, he was all but invisible against a stone wall while using a mica cloaking solution. It seems anything we use in alchemical powder eggs can be liquefied to use in his mechan. Arasemis says even poisons could be used, making him unapproachable, but that it’s too dangerous for us to test.
Everyone has superb mechans but me. Why couldn’t Arasemis have given me the bear armor? Or even the fury armor? Anything would be better. I’m starting to wonder if the old man is trying to sabotage me. Marlan has privately urged me to be patient. But I can see my friend’s patience with Arasemis is also beginning to wear.
When we were all down in the tree root tunnels, the students might have revolted against Arasemis if he had insisted on relic hunting over king killing. Even Rodel. The old man is simply too giddy about the dusty past, especially the ancient heathens. He’s unfocused, aloof, and out of touch with the modern world. Marlan is hopeful that the importance of our next tasks will bring Arasemis back to the present and force him to focus. I’m not convinced.
Training continues to go well. I feel better in the forge armor but still not as nimble as I’m used to being. And wall running is still too difficult, though I can bound off the walls when I have to.
Arasemis says we will leave for Eglamour in two days. He has a safe house for us in the slums of the city where we will live until our tasks are complete. We will travel in two groups to reduce the risk of disruption.
Arasemis and Juhl and I will go together one day after Marlan and Rodel. We will take the direct route from Bredahade while they will go around through Lundwynland. Both groups will be disguised as wine merchants and will travel in wagons with our mechans and weapons hidden in the barrels.
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