by Guy Antibes
“You will use it for battlefield communications?” Custik asked.
“I’m not sure,” Trevor said. “If the head seer wants to keep apprised of whatever I’m doing—”
“We are doing,” Lissa said, clutching Trevor’s upper arm. “You need a power person.”
“Reena,” Trevor said, teasing Lissa.
Lissa frowned. “You don’t think I’m going to let you not use me.”
“I need the power. Reena might be on the receiving end. We have to use whatever combination will work best.”
“And you are always using the old magic.”
Trevor nodded. “I’m afraid it is my only talent.”
Custik chuckled. “Just go on thinking that.”
They stepped into Glynna’s house.
“I don’t see why you can’t take Lissa with you. We can give you a sackful of charms, and Glynna has figured out a way to get them produced by students at the academy.”
Trevor and Lissa said their goodbyes to Gorian and Glynna, who would be talking to the bishop of Jilgrath about sending messages to Trevor through the head seer. They teleported to the seer headquarters lobby from the inn and found the head seer in a conference with his staff on another matter.
“I heard you had returned,” Brother Yvan said, walking up with Reena. “I didn’t know you brought Lissa with you.”
“We were going to talk to the head seer, but he is otherwise occupied.”
Brother Yvan nodded. “We have only added to his duties. Why don’t we get a drink?”
“I can help get you settled into the women’s quarters,” Reena said to Lissa, taking one of Lissa’s bags.
“What did you find out?” Brother Yvan asked once they were served their mugs of ale.
“Lissa can duplicate what Reena can do. Custik’s ability to help isn’t as good as Mino’s. I don’t know what the connection is other than magic and maybe Dryden worship? I don’t know what one’s feelings about Dryden have to do with anything, but I don’t know what else to say.”
Volst walked into the refectory. “I heard you were back,” he said as he joined Trevor and Brother Yvan.
Trevor repeated what he had told Brother Yvan.
“I might have thought it was a female thing, but Mino destroys that theory, doesn’t he?” Volst said.
“Trevor seems to think it is a Dryden thing, but that doesn’t explain why I’m not a suitable ring user,” Brother Yvan said.
“I suppose we don’t need to know. There are only two rings, and we know what works. Knowing how the things operate could be a distraction,” Trevor said. “I think teleporting works a lot better. I’m sorry to say that after all of this exciting experimentation. Dryden has provided an alternative to transferring, but…” Trevor shook his head.
“That is pragmatic enough,” Brother Yvan said. “Using your sword, even for a moment or two, puts you quickly at a disadvantage.”
Volst smiled. “It is bothering you, isn’t it?” Volst said, goading Brother Yvan.
“Something to think about later,” Brother Yvan said. “At least you now have the backups that you talked about before you left.”
Reena and Lissa walked into the refectory and joined them. “Have you solved any of the world’s problems?” Reena asked, sitting beside Brother Yvan.
“Perhaps a small one,” Volst said.
“The rings?” Lissa asked.
Trevor nodded and then told them a short version of what Volst, Brother Yvan, and he had decided.
“You use your help as you need them, eh?” Reena asked.
“That is my conclusion. You don’t have to be stuck to me until this is over,” Trevor said.
“Too bad that Yvan can’t be the one that I need to be near.”
“Yes, that is a shame, but there is Lissa or the head seer,” Volst said.
Brother Yvan frowned. “We won’t have to worry that Lister Vale will allow you to use the new-magic ring and that you won’t want to keep either ring for yourself.”
“I can hold onto this ring as a backup and leave the other with Lister or Reena,” Trevor said, fingering his ring.
“Where to next?” Volst asked.
“You need another meeting with King Worto,” Brother Yvan said. “Will he end up neutral, an enemy, or a friend? Let’s assume the center of all this foolishness is in Maskum. Maskum and Brachia could crush an allied Dryden army.”
“I agree. I’ll find him and see if Worto is still angry at Plissaki,” Trevor said.
Volst laughed, “He probably is still on his way to Brachia after you showed him the error of his ways at the border.”
The head seer entered the refectory followed by a woman dressed in a courtier’s gown.
“Yvan and Trevor,” the head seer began, “come with me. I have a message from the prime.” He looked sideways at the lady.
“Duty calls,” Brother Yvan said as he got to his feet.
Lister Vale led them down the corridor to a small meeting room. This one, furnished like a nice sitting room, had only four cushioned chairs.
“This is Anna Kartor, the prime’s personal secretary.” Lister then introduced Brother Yvan and Trevor with a short explanation of their backgrounds.
The woman leaned forward. “Less formal channels have assured the prime that Presidon-initiated attack on you was not an act of war, but it appears that the Presidonian ambassador arranged the assassination attempt. The ambassador refused to talk, but we have examined the assassins and have traced them to less-savory elements in Collet.”
“I didn’t think they would be Presidonians, not possessing that much magic,” Trevor said. “Thank you for telling us.”
“The prime has sent a more formal notice to Queen Hyra protesting the action and considers the ambassador guilty of arranging an attempted murder. The prime has given me this.” She pulled a letter out of a pocket in her dress and handed it to Trevor. “It is an apology.”
Trevor was surprised by the reaction.
“She is devoted to Dryden, although she endeavors to keep her feelings to herself for political reasons and was given unverified information that the pontiff didn’t discourage the Presidonian ambassador. You understand what kind of position that puts Ginster in.”
“I do, having met the pontiff and his bishop,” Trevor said. “I will take that as a warning.”
“The prime does not warn,” Anna Kartor said. “You understand.”
“I do, even if Trevor doesn’t,” Brother Yvan said. “He is about to leave Ginster but will be returning often.”
“So the prime thought. We both wish you well, Trevor Arcwin,” the woman said, rising from her seat. She looked at the head seer. “I will leave now.”
The head seer rose, with Trevor and Brother Yvan following.
“You two can stay here and read the letter. I was told what was in it and will escort Anna out,” Lister Vale said.
The head seer shut the door behind him, and Trevor and Brother Yvan sat back down.
“Enemies within and without,” Trevor said. “Ginster isn’t any less safe than Presidon.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Brother Yvan said, “but you do have work to do, and vigilance is something you’ll have to continue.”
Trevor nodded. “I can always use that kind of practice.” He took the single thick page from the envelope and read aloud. The prime’s words were those of encouragement, and she said that through it all, she hoped they could be friends as well as allies.
“A nice sentiment and one appropriate to put in writing. How do you feel about it?”
“She supports me. That is all I can wish for. I suppose the secretary brought the letter as an excuse to give us more straightforward information without involving the prime,” Trevor said.
Brother Yvan nodded. “That is also why the head seer escorted the lady out and left us here.”
“Not something you want to have to do in your home city,” Trevor said.
~
Trevor
wished he could have teleported west into Fuleria, but he didn’t know where King Worto was. Lissa and Volst accompanied him on the road. The only good thing about the ride was that he sat on Snowflake.
They traveled quickly and drew as little attention to themselves as possible, eschewing Lister Vale’s offer of an armed escort. Trevor thought that would only complicate matters at the border with Fuleria, which had reverted to giving them difficulty when they crossed.
“At least we made it all the way here without an attack,” Volst said as they entered a town miles from the border they had crossed earlier that morning.
“I’m less worried about an assassination attempt since we left in the middle of the night before the whole city could have seen me leave with the Ginsterian army,” Trevor said.
They left their horses in the stable yard and registered for rooms.
“Papers,” the innkeeper said with a serious face. He looked down at what they gave him. “I thought you were coming from Ginster.”
“We were,” Trevor said, “but we entered Ginster from Viksar. My papers were produced in Okora by a Viksaran magician.”
The innkeeper frowned and looked up. “Tall young man on a massive white horse. That is my description of the person who stopped the war. I thought you had come to stir up trouble in Fuleria.”
Trevor kept his mouth shut, but Volst grinned. “This is the very person who saved lives on both sides. He is a Brachian duke too.”
Trevor groaned inside. He wondered if they would even let him rent a room.
The innkeeper furrowed his brow and looked more closely at Trevor’s papers. “It is you.” His serious face turned warm and friendly. The man put out his hand. “I had a lot of friends in the Fulerian army that just went on furlough. You saved many lives and maybe my establishment if the Ginsterian army pushed all the way to here. Your room is on the house.”
The comment surprised Trevor. Had he gone from enemy to hero? “I’m glad you agree about saving a lot of lives. I hope King Worto has changed his mind about that. Do you know where the king is?”
The innkeeper laughed. “He hasn’t checked with me for permission, but he is moving with his Brachian army due west. You can catch up to him since they aren’t moving very fast.”
Trevor knew all about how slow armies could travel. “Then we will leave early tomorrow.”
“Breakfast on the house too,” the innkeeper said.
At dinner, Lissa congratulated Trevor, but she cautioned him. “There are people who won’t be as happy as the innkeeper.”
Trevor nodded. “In war, there are winners and losers who aren’t members of the army. Suppliers lost a lot of business because of the cancellation of hostilities.”
“War is coming,” Volst said, “but the fighting will be far south of here.”
“Jarkan and Maskum,” Trevor said. “I think you are right. We will have to purge the Maskumite magicians to stop the madness. That won’t be easy.”
“Especially if they are powerful and can move around with impunity,” Lissa said.
“I never got the impression that this messenger business was without hardship and danger,” Trevor said.
He patted his chest, feeling the hard surface of the cuirass beneath his tunic. Trevor suddenly wondered how the initial messenger died. Everyone had told him that legend said the messenger hadn’t survived the cataclysmic war that changed the world.
“If I get a chance, I’d like to know what happened to the old messenger,” Trevor said.
“I’m sure he is dead by now,” Volst said with a sly smile.
Trevor didn’t pursue his thoughts. He’d ask Brother Yvan or Reena to research in the seer headquarters library.
After dinner, they decided to go to sleep early. Trevor twisted the old magic ring on his finger. She’d learn about his doubts anyway, he thought. She sat at his side, looking bored.
“I am the fire that lights up your life,” Lissa said blankly.
Trevor laughed. “At least you brighten up my life. I’m not sure I want fire to do that.”
Lissa smiled and held out her hand.
“Take my wrist,” Trevor said.
It took a few minutes, but Trevor finally made contact with Reena. He told her about their experience with the innkeeper. “Can you or Brother Yvan research how the first messenger died? I don’t know what will be a legend and what will be the truth, but I’d be interested in how successful he was.”
“Are you sure you want to know?” Reena asked.
“I am. If you know your history, you’ll have less chance of repeating the bad parts,” Trevor said.
“I noticed you said a chance. Nothing is for certain, is it?”
“Some things are certain, but circumstances can shift certainty into something else pretty quickly.”
Reena laughed. Trevor could hear it through the link. “You are a philosopher messenger,” she said.
“I am at this moment, but I’m afraid the certainty of what you just said won’t last long.”
She laughed again. “I’m afraid it won’t. Is that all?”
“It is,” Trevor said as he cut the connection.
Lissa moved her hand from Trevor’s wrist to clasp his hand. “What were you talking about? I can only feel that the link is active and that the expression on your face changes while you talk,” she said.
“I wanted to know what happened to the original user of this.” Trevor tapped the leather cuirass underneath his tunic. He shrugged his shoulders. “It might be nice to know.”
“Or nice not to know,” Lissa said. “He or she died wearing it.”
“So legends say, but I’d like to know.”
Lissa leaned against him. “Someone said knowledge is power, but I think it depends on who the knowledge holder is.”
“When you plan for battles,” Trevor said, “knowledge is power. It gives you more ability to act and make better decisions, even if the new knowledge tells you to retreat.”
Lissa shook her head. “I don’t know if Dryden’s messenger is allowed to retreat.”
“Who will stop him?” Trevor said. “Although I have an appointment from Lister Vale, even he can’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do because he doesn’t know.”
“So you move ahead blindly?”
“I’ve been in the dark before and managed to survive. I’ll do it this time too.”
Lissa punched him gently. “You’d better.”
Chapter Eleven
~
T hree days later, close to the Brachian border, Trevor, Volst, and Lissa began riding through the stragglers. They increased the pace, and a few hours later, they approached the carriage carrying King Worto.
They were stopped a few hundred paces from approaching by a rear guard.
“You will have to follow us,” the officer said.
“I’m Trevor Arcwin and spoke to the king at the Fulerian border with Ginster. I have some charms for him.”
“You mean you want to kill him,” the officer said.
Trevor shook his head. “Take my weapons.”
“There are other ways to kill a man,” the officer said.
Trevor sighed. He removed the scabbard from his back and handed it to the officer. “Take this to the king and have him make the decision.”
The officer narrowed his eyes, but then one of his men drew closer. “He really was Ginster’s negotiator.”
“Escort them at this distance,” the officer said to his men before riding ahead.
“Nothing is easy,” Volst said.
Trevor nodded. “If we have to wait a few minutes, so what? We’ve been on the road for five days.”
“Perspective? I like it,” Volst replied.
They didn’t wait long before the officer rode back. “Go forward. We will be right behind you.”
“There is an entire army behind us,” Trevor said. “We’ve noticed.”
They approached the king’s carriage, which pulled into a farmyard at the side of
the road. Trevor thought it would be best to dismount before approaching King Worto. At least he didn’t see evidence of Gareeze Plissaki.
“Isn’t my retreat sufficient?” King Worto asked, clutching Trevor’s Jarkanese sword.
“I want you to have these.” Trevor gave the king a bag of tokens. “These should work to expose any Maskumite magicians using the invisibility spell. I had a few gold-level magicians…” Lissa gave him a slight bump when he said it. “…and members of the Jilgrathian Magical Academy create these. They are a little different than the charm you used before. We aren’t entirely sure they work because there weren’t any Maskumite magicians around. Spread them around.”
“I will,” Worto said. “And you don’t need a charm?”
“No.” Trevor noticed a man sliding into hearing range at the corner of Worto’s carriage. “We can test it now. Pull a charm out and hold it while you look at your carriage, then drop the charm to the ground to see if anyone disappears.”
King Worto did as Trevor said and gasped the moment the charm dropped to the ground. “Over there!”
“They can’t see,” Trevor said. He ran toward the magician before he could get a few steps away. Trevor tackled him to the ground. Both men were bathed in fire. A silver lightning bolt splashed against Trevor as they struggled until he swung his fist, connecting with the magician’s cheek, knocking the man out.
The officers and soldiers shouted as the magician appeared. Worto picked up the charm and examined it. “I didn’t have to activate it. Good work!”
“None needed with the new ones,” Lissa said. “It is more like a ward than a charm. A reflection of the invisible person’s magic powers the detection spell.”
Worto walked over to the unconscious man. “He is one of Plissaki’s minions,” Worto said. He examined the tiny metal disk again. “You followed me all the way from Collet to give me this?”
“Don’t you think it is that important?”
“I do now,” Worto said. He looked at Trevor. The man’s mind seemed to be whirring. “You haven’t done so bad for such a new duke, other than put me into a full retreat.”