THIRTY
Grummond’s man answered the call quickly, stepping forward with an ease and presence that caused some discomfort among Wynter’s following. It was an interesting juxtaposition that the weakest lord should have the bravest champion - and the two could not be more different. The man towered over everyone in the building, Wynter guessed he had to be nearly seven feet tall. He was huge and surely could kill a man simply by falling on him. Taking his place in the center of the arena, the giant man nimbly grabbed his sword off a back-scabbard and planted the point in the dirt in front of him. For any other man present, the sword would have required both hands, but this man moved the massive piece of metal with such fluid grace it seemed weightless. With a practiced nonchalance the larger man casually placed his left hand on the pommel and his right hand on top of the left and waited. There was no arrogance in the movement, Wynter noted. He was merely doing as he had been trained.
Wynter looked to Grummond and gave him an appreciative nod. “Your champion is stunning, Grummond. My compliments.”
The little man, used to having his way, sneered his response. “I will take your castle and piss on it until it melts.” He turned back to his champion and smiled, sure he would live to see the end of the day.
“That makes this so much more fun for me then.” Wynter turned back to the champion and applause broke out again and continued until he waved to his people and lowered his hands, entreating them to remain calm.
Wynter extended his hand to the man, who had to look down to see him properly. “Good afternoon. I am Wynter, King of Solwyn, and you are…”
The champion was taken aback by Wynter’s casual nature. “Sire?”
“Your name, man. What is your name?”
“Sir Keldon, sire, in service to Lord Grummond.”
“Do you enjoy being in service to Lord Grummond?”
“Sire?”
“Look, Sir Keldon, let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be. Lord Grummond is a puffed-up little fop who wouldn’t last two minutes in a tavern brawl, much less be able to put on armor. Does he treat the people of your village well? Does he treat you well?”
Sir Keldon didn’t respond right away but Wynter noticed his eyes shift subtly to his left, and following that glance, he saw the woman who came as Grummond’s wife. Looking at her and then at Sir Keldon, he decided to try a new approach.
“Sir Keldon, would you like to have that woman as your wife; legally and for the rest of your days?”
“Yes, Sire, more than anything else.”
“Then you have to make a decision. You can fight me and die, and never see her again; and believe me Sir Keldon, you most certainly will die.” To reinforce his threat, Wynter caused the chest and back plates of the giant’s armor to constrict upon themselves, causing the champion to feel how easily he could be crushed.
“Or, you can renounce Lord Grummond and kneel before me and accept me as your king. I will allow you to retain your title, I will give you land, and I will make you the Captain Commander of all Solwyn’s forces. Does this sound agreeable to you?” Wynter released his hold on Keldon’s armor so the man could breath easily again and respond.
For his part, Keldon never flinched at the discomfort he felt, and Wynter was sure only the two of them were aware of what had happened. “You are exceedingly kind, sire, but it seems, somewhat…dishonorable?”
“Sir Keldon, your time is now. Honor is a great thing for the living. Accept my offer and live and you may be as honorable as you like.”
With only a second’s hesitation, the giant man knelt before Wynter. The applause was deafening. The woman who had drawn Sir Keldon’s attention was smiling broadly and openly weeping, clasping her hands in front of her face. When the applause died down, Wynter turned to Nethyal who grabbed Grummond by the arm and led him down to the arena floor.
Grasping the hilt of Sir Keldon’s enormous sword, Wynter imparted a small bit of magic allowing him to easily lift the monstrous steel blade with a single hand, earning him much respect and credibility from the soldiers in the arena. He moved the blade until the point rested above Sir Keldon’s heart announcing that Sir Keldon of The Cobalt Tower rise and be recognized as the First Knight and Captain Commander of Solwyn, reporting to the king alone.
As the man made his feet again, he smiled triumphantly and looked toward his love.
“As the First Knight and Captain Commander of Solwyn, you may ask a boon of me, Sir Keldon and I shall grant it.”
“I should like to marry, my king.”
“Bring the woman forth.”
As the giant went to claim his bride, Grummond began to yell. “That is my wife, you cannot marry my wife!”
The crowd, upon hearing this roared its approval again, causing Grummond’s face to go red like flowing blood. What the crowd did not hear was Wynter’s response, “it’s not illegal for a widow to remarry, Grummond.”
With Sir Keldon and his bride-to-be before him, Wynter knew there was still the matter of removing Grummond with enough of a show as to bring the other champions in line as well.
“Ask the woman how to do it. My bet is this Grummond creature has treated her cruelly. Ask her how she would like to see the wretch removed.”
It was, Wynter thought, an excellent idea. “You are, Malai, currently the wife of Grummond.” The woman nodded. “While I would see my knight commander happy and my vow to him fulfilled, it is impossible that he marries someone who is already married. So, Malai, by way of a wedding gift, how would you become a widow?”
The woman, who Wynter had thought was shy and demure, showed more mettle than her husband. Her eyes and face pricked up at once as she realized what was being asked and Wynter could almost see the wheels in her head turning with possibilities. Malai leaned forward and lowered her voice so only Wynter could hear and asked if what he had told her about the Fourteen were true? It dawned on him then, that it was Malai who had asked if those inside the pillars were alive when she saw the Fourteen for the first time.
Wynter laughed aloud and put his hand on her shoulder. “Why, Malai, you are a treasure among women, hidden away with this feeble wretch Grummond. Good people,” Wynter turned to the audience, “Malai asks if she could be widowed by creating a Fifteenth to join the Honored Fourteen.”
The crowd applauded loudly and Grummond blanched, his face moving from the red of embarrassment to the white of shock in a moment. The other eleven lords started to rise out of their seats and with a flick of Wynter’s wrist, the wooden chairs grew limbs which ensnared the lords and brought them back to their seats, firmly tied. The crowd did not miss this bit of magic and grew quiet. It was not unknown for their king to use his power, but they knew it was not used idly.
Wynter felt another tooth dislodge from his gums and fought back the urge to gasp in pain and surprise. If this keeps up, he thought, I will look like a leper and not be able to be seen in public. He steeled himself and swallowed the tooth and a mouthful of blood, motioning to Nethyal to bring him a skin of water.
Moving close to Malai he spoke softly so as not to open his mouth too much and to minimize the air rushing across the fresh gap in his jaw bone. “If I make him the Fifteenth Pillar, he will remain alive, and technically you will not be widowed.” She nodded and stepped back to Sir Keldon’s side.
To the crowd, Wynter spoke, not caring if blood flew from his mouth as he did; the effect, he thought, would be a good one. “This man is not fit to be made one of the Pillars of Solwyn. He is not a Kelman and he is entirely unworthy of such a glorious sacrifice. But, if Malai would have him become ice, there is no reason she should not have her wedding gift.” He looked to the men who tended the fishing boats and said, “take him to the shore, prepare a boat and sail north to the ice. When you arrive, cut from the ice a hole, and lower him in.” The crowd roared their approval again and Grummond was taken from the arena cursing and screaming the entire time.
“Bring the next champion.”
&n
bsp; “My king, we beseech you, do not play with us so; have mercy upon us.” The call came from among those lords tied to their seats on stage.
Wynter looked at them and at the soldiers amassed before him. He ran his tongue across the sensitive hole in his jaw and, when the crowd’s silence was at its height, he replied. “I will retire to the castle for an hour to think upon it,” Wynter proclaimed. “If I can divine a reason to spare your lives, perhaps I shall.”
To the men at arms in ranks along the arena’s edge, Wynter looked next. They could see which way the wind blew, he knew, and it wouldn’t take much to have them all join his cause. They respected the giant Keldon if nothing else, and Wynter believed they would follow him.
“Sir Keldon, please offer a place in the forces of Solwyn for any among the men at arms who would renounce their former lords and stay here or be deployed to the Eastern and Western Reaches as needed.”
Sir Keldon bowed in salute, spoke briefly to his soon-to-be wife, and made his way across the arena. He quickly and quietly took command of the corps in front of him and after his voice died away, each company of men replied in turn. Sir Keldon then led the fully formed and equipped army of Solwyn out of the arena.
Wynter stood for long minutes watching the arena empty until only the retainers, servants, slaves, cooks, and concubines who had followed their lords to Solwyn remained, having nowhere to go without their lords. They bowed respectfully as Wynter and Nethyal walked past them out the great gates.
“You have one hour. See Lord Nethyal when you are finished, and he will find you work and lodging.” As they continued to walk Wynter turned back to a former slave and pointed out a small pile sticks, rope and stone. “Please clean up when you’re done.” As he and Nethyal walked out of the arena, Wynter ensured the gates crashed closed behind. Moments later as they walked toward the castle, Wynter and Nethyal could hear screams from inside the arena walls. Wynter smiled and didn’t care who saw the blood fall from his lips.
“We have conquered the north in an afternoon, Nethyal. It cost us a tooth.”
THIRTY-ONE
Krieger’s camp was their home for nearly a month as Lydria honed her magical skills under the watchful eyes of Krieger and Haustis. Haidrea and Kimi spent much of their time in the forest hunting and when in camp, they did their best to help Lydria recover from her work.
During their training sessions, Lydria learned that using magic to incapacitate an enemy was more effective than killing, as it took less of a toll on the wielder. They also discovered that magic was better at close range, losing its effectiveness with distance, while the impact to the wielder remained the same regardless. It was interesting to Lydria, that when Kimi stood away from her, closer to her targets, her magic seemed to be more potent at greater distances.
“That your magic has limitations is good,” Krieger said. “If Wynter is to attack Bayside, he will have to travel with his armies to do it which means while he is powerful, he is not invincible. As to why your magic retains its power when Kimi is afield, I am at a loss, but unless Wynter has such a helper, it gives us an advantage.”
Krieger’s schedule continued every day with Lydria practicing magic, building up her abilities with small tasks and increasing the intensity and repetitions of tasks as the days passed.
“Kimi, I feel this is all I have done for the last year.” Lydria did not often complain, but the effort was taxing, and she was tired and sore.
“It is important. You’ve told me before how your father did things without thinking because of the countless hours and days he had trained to do those things. It is the same with you now. You are following the path of your father, and like him, you will see the reward of your work.”
It was Haustis who ended the training one morning after Lydria used ground vines to ensnare the legs of Krieger and Haidrea and pull them to the ground.
“Krieger, it is time.” The old woman looked at the man lying on the ground and he returned her gaze in a way that made it apparent they would travel as soon as he could be untangled. “The vision I have recently seen is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed. There is a shift of power coming to the world. It is not clear if it is Wynter or of Wynter’s making, but we cannot wait longer.” Without another word, she turned to the cabin and started gathering her things. Lydria limped after her and when Haidrea returned from the woods, her horse was saddled, and they started toward Bayside.
It was mid-afternoon, and the light frost of early morning had given way to a sharp, but sunny day. Krieger had provisioned them with warmer clothes from stores in his cabin. The city, he told them, despite its buildings and fires, was often cold and without sun as the stone walls captured the cold and held onto it like a lover until forced by fire to let it go.
The journey to Bayside would only take a few days, but Krieger insisted on traveling to the east and entering town through the eastern gate.
“It may seem overly cautious, but I have never traveled with such important cargo as I have with me today,” he nodded toward Lydria. “I have friends to the east of Bayside who can tell me the temperament of the city before we enter. Arriving from the east puts the sun at our back in the early morning. When we arrive, we will have a better view of the town than they will have of us.”
“You speak as if we are entering an enemy city, Krieger.” Haustis’ voice raised slightly, and she looked at the man with something akin to suspicion. “Is there something you are aware of that you’re not telling us, my friend?”
The others remained silent as they watched Haustis and Krieger, neither of whom gave away much in their words or motions. Even Kimi, with all the sensitivities of his kind, found it hard to fathom any deeper meaning in their words.
“For years I have kept many secrets my dear Haustis, but never have I had the opportunity to keep one from you. No, there is nothing I am aware of, but we have time to be cautious. The city of a king is a fickle place and court politics often change overnight. Many a man has been woken by the pounding of the guard at his door even though he was at peace when he went to bed. My caution stems only from the importance I give to my mission.”
The exchange seemed to be enough for Haustis. Kimi traveled apart from the horses and planned to stay off the paths as they road and outside the walls and boundaries of the city when they arrived. “I will meet you tonight,” he told his friend, and Lydria gave him a mental hug as he bounded into the forest.
The travel was steady and easy going. For a time, Krieger continued to drill Lydria to perform small magic, and to goad her into action he threw stones at her from the saddle. Her first reaction was to use magic to hurl the projectile back. The tactic was successful, as several bruises and small cuts to Krieger’s arm and cheek testified, but the weakening effect it had on Lydria was considerable.
“Unless I sit here pelting you with stones for weeks on end, you will be able to fend off only a few such attacks before your own body betrays you.”
Lydria asked Krieger to throw one more and this time the stone bounced away before it hit her. To Haustis and Haidrea, traveling on either side of Lydria, it seemed as though the rock simply stopped before it reached her and fell to the ground.
Krieger smiled broadly. “Does it hurt you to do this?”
“I think I could possibly do this all day, but I’m not sure that I could do anything else besides.”
Haustis looked to Krieger and back to Lydria. “As she is not acting upon the stone, she uses less magic. If she were to hurl the stone back at you, as she did before, the force for the movement comes from her magic. She has recreated a steel shield in magical form. To a soldier, holding a shield, while not effortless, is a chore he can manage all day. Well done, Lydria.”
As the afternoon wore on, Lydria experimented with moving the magic shield between herself and Haidrea and Haustis, encompassing both herself and her horse, and extending the shield further from her body. While these tasks were possible, they proved to be difficult, at one point nearly ca
using her to fall from her mount before Haidrea moved along side and held her in the saddle.
At camp it was all Lydria could do to eat before she was asleep.
The next morning was clear and brisk, with a wind coming down from the north that brought with it a dry, stringent but odorless feeling in the back of the travelers’ noses. “Snow will fall soon, you can smell it on the air,” Haidrea said. The first snow of the year was almost never heavy, but it began the cycle of freezing the ground so that deeper, longer-lasting snows could follow. For Krieger, the snow and its inevitable melt meant mud and prints that would last for days.
“Do you think anyone is following us?” Lydria asked the question of Krieger but it was Haidrea who responded. “There was someone shadowing us for a time yesterday. They were behind us and slightly to the north, but they did not account for the modest breeze yesterday that foretold of the wind today. They were never close and perhaps were just meant to watch?” She looked directly at Krieger. It wasn’t so much a question to answer as a statement to confirm.
To his credit Krieger did not seem surprised by the response. “Your people are a wonder to me even after all these years. I have friends in these parts and they keep an eye on who travels this path and many others. If we were anyone else, I’m sure they would have approached more closely to try and discern our business. As it is, we must be more cautious now and not practice Lydria’s skills any more while on this path.”
“If we are to travel, we should be going.” Haustis spurred her horse to a trot and looked impatiently for the others to follow. When they arrived at her side she told them, “Last night the spirits showed more treachery and peril. While I don’t know the time or place, I feel we should be on our way, to either avoid those omens, or be done with them quickly.”
Magic's Genesis- The Grey Page 21