Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (19 page)

Read Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Online

Authors: Mark E. Cooper

Tags: #Sword & Sorcery, #Magic & Wizards, #Epic, #Historical, #Fantasy, #Series, #Sorceress, #sorcerer, #wizard

BOOK: Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3
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Keverin flicked through the ancient pages. With wars going on year after year, how could anyone trust that this knowledge would not be used for evil? He didn’t know the answer. Thinking about Darius’ scroll, and the Hasian army in the pass, Keverin hefted the book and turned toward the door.

Visions of Darius screaming as he shone brighter than the sun filled his head, images of the tired girl in the hall tending his men, images of her standing on the tower throwing lightning and fire into the enemy.

Keverin took two more steps and hesitated. If he destroyed the book Julia would be trapped here. He needed her now more than ever. If he destroyed it, she would have to stay, but... he turned back and locked the book in the chest. He was a fool, and he knew it. Julia would leave and Deva would be conquered. All for honour.

Yes, but without honour we are nothing.

Lord Keverin locked the vault and the gate beyond. Nodding to the guard, he walked back the way he came. He caught a glimpse of Julia as he reached the open doors of the great hall. She was kneeling beside a guardsman and reaching out to hold his head. It was late. He should go in and order her to rest but what if more of his men died for lack of her aid? He stopped to watch...

“M’lord!” Elise hailed him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Julia looked up irritated at the interruption and frowned at Keverin’s gawking.

Keverin looked quickly away. “What is it?” he said more sternly than his want.

“The bishop has come lord.”

“Has he?”

“Yes. He doesn’t seem happy m’lord. Father Gideon is attending him, but he... he demands audience with you.”

“He does, does he?”

Elise nodded. “Will you see him, m’lord?”

Only the King dared demand an audience with him in his own fortress, and even then he had better have a good reason. Still, this was the bishop. Allowances had to be made for the Church. He wondered what was so important that Jymis could not wait for the morning to discuss it. Nothing good he would wager.

“I’ll see him.”

Elise looked relieved. “He’s awaiting you in your study.”

“You put him in there!” he almost shrieked but managed to keep his voice down to a low roar. “You should have shown him to—”

Keverin frowned remembering the great hall was in use. There were still a great many injured guardsmen—too many. Julia didn’t want to move them for fear of aggravating their injuries.

“—somewhere,” he finished lamely. “But not in my study. Who knows what kind of mischief he’s up to?”

Elise wasn’t surprised at Keverin’s dislike of the bishop. All his people knew they didn’t get along. Still, Jymis was the bishop and the position at least was due his respect. Lords were by no means untouchable where the Church was concerned. It was a narrow path he walked between his people’s welfare on one side, and censure from the Church on the other. Father Gideon now, he would have made a fine Bishop, but then Keverin was biased where Gideon was concerned. The man had been a priest here for over thirty eight years. That was almost longer than he’d been alive.

“Marcus suggested your study, my lord,” Elise said.

Marcus had suggested. If Marcus said that, there must be something seriously amiss. He obviously wanted privacy for this discussion.

“I’ll see him,” Keverin said again and made his way to his study.

Keverin hurried through the maze of corridors imagining all kinds of dire news. The Holy Father was dead, the King was, he was being censured for not making sufficient donations, and the list went on. So it was with surprise that quickly turned to dismay when he heard the real reason for Jymis’ visit.

“You can’t be serious,” Keverin said with his eyes flicking to Gideon.

Gideon was distraught. He was sitting a short distance from where Jymis sat in the best armchair. The poor man seemed near to tears with his need to explain, but with his superior in the room, he didn’t dare speak up.

Marcus was standing a short distance away with his eyes boring into the back of the bishop’s head. Keverin glanced at him but received only a glittering stare for his trouble. The bishop didn’t know it, but he had another enemy standing right behind him. Marcus didn’t like the turn this conversation had taken. Not one bit.

“Certainly I am serious, Lord Keverin,” Jymis said. “This...
person
must be handed over to me for the good of all.”

Lord Keverin, and not
my
lord Keverin? Those few words immediately put him on his guard. “Over to you,” Keverin repeated without inflection.

“I am the highest Church authority within your borders.”

Keverin acknowledged that with a nod, but for the good of all? He doubted it. The bishop knew only what was good for the bishop, but in this case he had gone far astray. Julia was essential,
absolutely essential
, to Athione’s welfare and those who lived here.

“And what would you do with her?”

“Put her on trial of course.”

Keverin gaped at the absurdity of it. No one would dare put a mage on trial. The idea was ludicrous. Jymis wasn’t usually a stupid man, but he did have lapses. For instance, Jymis, then a lowly priest, had managed to get on the wrong side of not one but two lords of Athione in succession, which was an achievement few could boast. His father hadn’t been pleased with Jymis’ preaching and had taken steps to remove him for preaching sedition against the King when he should have been teaching the God’s love. Kevlarin had risked a great deal when he threw Jymis out of Athione, but Farran, the Holy Father, had been a friend of Jessica’s for years. Farran had been a simple priest in one of Lord Padrig’s villages in his youth. Instead of calling anathema on Kevlarin, Farran had quietly sent Jymis to a new post. Gideon had taken Jymis’ place at Athione, which suited Kevlarin and his son also. Gideon was a good and godly man, one who cared for the people’s souls while leaving their bodily welfare firmly in the hands of the ruling lord, as it should be.

Jymis had prospered in Malcor Town and had risen through hard work and diligence to his present prominence. He was bishop for all the lands of Athione now, and of course he was entitled to be quartered within the fortress, but by his own wish he lived in the town of Manis Crossing. Keverin was grateful for it. There was a fine old church there, which had needed a priest for some time. Jymis had taken up the duties and residence of the local priest even while maintaining his own duty as bishop for the lands beholden to Athione. Although it was a little unusual for a bishop to replace a priest in a small town church, Jymis had the people’s admiration and respect if not their lord’s. When Jymis stayed clear of areas traditionally held to be the responsibility of the lords, he was a good priest. Whether he could be relied upon to do that from now on, Keverin didn’t know, but it seemed cursed unlikely.

“With all due respect to the Church and your holy self my lord bishop,” Keverin said. Calling this little man a lord was hardly accurate, but a little flattery couldn’t hurt. “Lady Julia isn’t a member of the Church. Therefore you cannot put her on trial. If trial there be, I should conduct it as Lord of Athione and Lord Protector of the West.”

There, let him chew on titles for a while. Jymis didn’t oblige. He smiled and stood to confront him, which made Keverin want to pull his dagger in defence.

“Heresy is a Church matter,” Jymis said.

“Heresy!” Keverin blurted in shock. “What heresy? If you think I’ll let you put that girl on trial you are
seriously
mistaken!”

Jymis’ face blanked and he made the sign of the God in the air. “Do you set your power against that of the God?”


Dare you say so!
” Keverin spat in rage.

Jymis paled and stumbled back from Keverin’s anger.

It was Marcus who saved the situation. “My lord bishop, perhaps I’m mistaken,” Marcus began smoothly. “Are you suggesting Lady Julia is guilty of practising heretical doctrine—perhaps as the Hasians do?”

“I am,” Jymis said.

“Then you are in error. I know for a fact that Lady Julia has father Gideon for her priest. Is that not so Father?”

Keverin was still glaring at Jymis, but Marcus’ words did penetrate. He turned to Gideon expecting to see the priest acknowledge the truth of Marcus’ words, but Gideon hesitated.

“I... I would gladly teach the lady, but—” sweat suddenly burst upon Gideon’s forehead and he swiped at it irritably. “But she does not embrace the true faith.”

“Ha!” Jymis crowed. “You see? The woman is a foul heretic—”

“Silence!” Keverin said cutting Jymis off. “Father Gideon is not finished. Pray go on Father.”

Gideon cringed to see the bishop so angry. He took a deep breath and shook himself free of his fear. “Julia has not embraced the faith, so much is true, but she does believe in the God. I’m very sure,” Gideon said appealing to Jymis. “I’m certain she will come to us in time my lord bishop. Allow me to teach her and she will come to the true faith, I
swear
it.”

“There is no certainty. Regardless of what may happen in the future, she is a heretic now.”

“Let us sit my lord bishop and discuss this calmly,” Keverin said indicating the chairs. “Hasty words avail us nothing.”

Marcus stood behind Jymis’ chair, which made him uncomfortable. That was all to the good as far as Keverin was concerned. He did not reprimand him.

Keverin clasped his hands before him. “This woman is—”

“A heretic!” Jymis cried cutting in.

“A
Child
,” Keverin said firmly. “Can we at least agree on that?”

Jymis pressed his lips together and nodded reluctantly.

“Good. At least we agree on something. Darius brought this child here unwillingly. It was a mistake, but a fortunate one for us.”

“Fortunate! If you think bringing a harlot into your home is fortunate—”

Keverin ground his teeth in anger. He was increasingly difficult to stomach this man’s vile accusations. Julia had given him no reason to think she was anything but chaste.

“—worse, she’s a harlot and a heretic! If her coming here was fortunate, I can’t begin to imagine what you would call unfortunate.”

Keverin could think of quite a few things that would be unfortunate and worse than unfortunate. How about a man without the gift? Yes, that would have been far worse than unfortunate. It would have been
catastrophic!
One thing above all he knew, without Julia the Hasians would own Athione today.

“Julia is chaste my lord Bishop,” Keverin ground out. “News of anything improper would reach me as soon as it occurred. I assure you that the girl is a noble lady in every sense of the word. As for her being a heretic, she’s no more a heretic than say... you are.”

Jymis’ eyes bugged and his colour deepened. “You accuse me—”

“That is
not
what I said,” Keverin said testily. “I know you to be a godly man Jymis.” He did not know anything of the sort really, but it was best to proceed as if he did. “I also know Julia is no heretic. She is willing to learn our ways from Gideon. To me that makes her a—” he hesitated racking his brain for the concept he had in mind. Then he had it. “A
convert
.”

Gideon saw an opening and threw himself into it. “The Hasians blaspheme daily in their insistence that Mortain is the voice of the God on Earth, but it has long been the Holy Father’s cherished wish to bring the Hasian people to the true faith. If blasphemy can be forgiven, surely a child’s ignorance can be also my lord bishop. Julia is not evil, she
fights
evil.”

Keverin wanted to applaud, but one look at the bishop’s face told him it would be premature. “Yes fighting,” he said bringing attention back to him. “It enrages me that I failed to protect Athione and that another had to take my place. That a woman did so, when any woman is to be protected, shames me. Nevertheless, I love Athione and her people.

“If dishonour is the price of their salvation, then so be it. Julia is nought but a child, but to me she is one thing more. She is a weapon I will cast into the faces of the sorcerers, and to the
flames with my honour!

Marcus and Gideon gasped. They were horrified, as well they might be. Marcus knew what Keverin’s honour meant to him—it was to die for in any man. To throw it away was the ultimate sin. Keverin felt sick at the thought of dishonouring himself in Marcus’s eyes—in anyone’s eyes, but it would be worse if he allowed Athione to go down to defeat because he was unwilling to make the sacrifice. He would yield himself and every one of his men to their deaths if it would save Deva. One more death made no difference, even if that one be a woman.

“The God would not want us to use witchcraft to defeat the Hasians,” Jymis said. “Evil to destroy evil?
No I say!
Evil begets more evil lord Keverin. Beware lest this child bewitch you.”

Keverin shook his head at the man’s obtuseness. Jymis had heard nothing he had said. As for witches, they didn’t exist. Fables for the most part, witches were old women who healed cuts or aches with potions they swore were magic, but were in fact brews made of such disgusting things as tree moss mixed with mould and other noisome things.

Darius said there was nothing magical about such potions, but that surprisingly they could be beneficial in some instances. Keverin shuddered at the thought of putting mould on a wound, and the thought of drinking anything such women concocted made him gag, but he trusted Darius’ estimation of witches. They were harmless old women eking a living by selling minor cures.

“There are no such things as witches,” Keverin said. “Both the Church and the King hold that such do not exist. Besides, all know women do n—”

“They do now!” The Bishop crowed in victory. “Against nature, she has magic. Only men are chosen to wield His power in the world. I say she is against the God.”

“Saying it doesn’t make it true. She has magic, therefore she must be a witch? That is foolish.”

“What other definition would you have me use? A witch uses potions and curses—both are magical in nature. Witches are women with unnatural talents. They are usually old, living long beyond their natural spans. No doubt they use their talents to prolong their lives—”

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