Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (93 page)

He nodded. Anyone wanting to get to the women’s quarter had to pass through one of those two sections. It was no accident that lord Keverin and his friend had chosen them.

“Lady Elise should have found some clothes for you, maybe in the bedchamber. I want you to have a good long bath then see what will fit. We’ll buy you more sets later, but they should do until we get home. I’ll have a robe made for you as well—to warn people.”

Mages were dangerous, more dangerous than a gang on the street, more dangerous than a gang on the street
with
daggers
even. Lorcan liked the thought of being dangerous. He went into the bedchamber, and took a quick look at the clothes laid out on the bed. There was a good selection. He found the bath just where Mathius said it would be. There was a privy!

What would they think of next?

It seemed strange not having to use an old pot and empty it afterwards, but he used it then stripped off his old clothes. The bath had gilded levers at one end. When he pulled the one on the right, hot water gushed into the bath. Magic! That shouldn’t surprise him, this was the palace after all. The King would have the best of everything. It was only right. Athione would be even better though, he thought remembering the stories about the fortresses. He could hardly wait to see.

He washed himself thoroughly, and the water turned brown. He emptied the bath and refilled it to wash again.

“Don’t forget your hair!” Mathius called from the other room.

Lorcan sheepishly ducked under the water to wash his hair. Mathius sounded like his mother used to. She had been very clean and would insist he bathe once a tenday without fail. The water seemed only slightly brown after his third bath, and he decided that it would do until the next time. After towelling himself dry, he went back into the bedchamber to dress. The clothes were very fine! He would look like a lord wearing them. He tried on two different pairs of trousers until he found a pair that fit. A pair of stockings on his feet, and then a pair of boots. He scowled at the boots. They were nice, but they were slightly worn. Lord Keverin had promised him new ones… but of course such a great lord would never break his word. Maybe they needed to measure him? Yes, that must be it. He would have new ones when they went home. Some of the shirts were cotton, and Lorcan decided they would fit, but he couldn’t resist putting on the blue one. It was made of silk and it felt wonderful on his skin. He gathered up the clothes that he was sure wouldn’t fit and took them into the other room.

“By the God!” Mathius gasped. “You look like one of the heirs!”

Lorcan blinked. “What?”

“The clothes. They make you look like a lord’s son. Are those the one’s that don’t fit?”

Lorcan nodded and gave them to Mathius who threw them on a chair. They made his room look untidy. He would hide them somewhere later.

“Oh, don’t worry about the mess,” Mathius said easily. “Lady Elise or one of the others will take them away. Hmmm, you need a sheath for your dagger. There might be one…” Mathius trailed off as he disappeared into the bedchamber. Lorcan went to see what the mage was up to.

Mathius was gathering up his clothes from the bed and putting them in the drawers. “We don’t want the servants throwing away the good ones do we?” he said absently rummaging in one of the drawers.

“No,” Lorcan said. If anyone tried they’d be sorry.

Mathius handed him a sash and a sheath. He hadn’t thought to need a sash. He had always hidden his daggers inside his clothes, but blending in might be a good idea. He hadn’t forgotten his need to find Ascol.

Lorcan wound the sash tightly around his waist and Mathius helped tie it with the correct length left hanging on his left hip. He thrust the sheath behind the sash, but the only dagger that fit was the new one he had claimed earlier. Maybe he could hide the others in his boots, but he would try that in private. What point in hiding a weapon if you let someone see you do it?

“Let’s eat,” Mathius said and led the way out into the corridor.

“How did the Lady know, Mathius?”

“Know what?”

“That I could be a mage.”

“Oh that. The glow you saw around Julia means that you can work magic. Mages always glow when they use it, and only another mage can see it. You see?”

Lorcan nodded. “She used it in her room, but nothing happened.”

“Uh-huh,” Mathius said with a nod. “That’s because she was talking to me. You have heard of mind-speech?”

“Like in the stories.”

“That’s it. I wasn’t even in the palace when she called. I was walking back from the hospital—the warehouse district?”

“I know where it is, everyone knows. I thought the stories were all make believe.”

“Some are, I’m sure, but the ones about sorcerers flying and throwing fire are true. My father was good at calling storms, and I called one just last year.”

“Really?”

Mathius grinned. “Really. Julia went to fight the Hasians, and I went with her. There was a big fire and I needed rain to put it out.”

Lorcan looked at Mathius sideways. Was he jesting?

“I swear it’s true.”

He shook his head. To think he might do the same some day was exciting, but a little frightening as well. Fighting had always meant being quick enough to avoid the other boy’s blade. How would he fight a sorcerer with magic as Julia had done? No one was faster than
lightning!
If Julia could do it, then he supposed he could as well.

“Why did the lord let her fight?”

Mathius gritted his teeth. Lorcan noted the muscles working at his new friend’s jaw. Mathius didn’t like it either then. Good. The Lady shouldn’t be allowed to fight. It was too dangerous.

“Julia is the only sorceress in the world, Lorcan. She’s the most powerful mage there ever was. None of the others were strong enough—I certainly wasn’t!”

“What others?”

“They’re dead now,” Mathius said bleakly. “There’s only you, me, Lucius, and Julia in all of Deva. Lucius wears the red robe as you saw. That means he’s a wizard. I’m a journeyman, and you’re a novice—novice’s where the white robe. Julia should wear the black robe really, but she prefers her dresses, and besides, the sorcerers are evil and they all wear black. She didn’t want to look like them.”

That made perfect sense to him. People might not like her if they thought she was a black sorcerer. Julia looked like just another noble woman in her dress. She didn’t look at all like the sorceress of Athione he had heard about on the streets. Being sneaky like that could take the enemy by surprise. He approved.

They entered a large hall with rows of wooden tables and benches in it. He thought this must be the biggest room in the world, but Mathius said Athione’s great hall was much larger. This wasn’t the throne room as he had first thought. Lorcan had been in there before during the riots and the throne was nowhere in sight. He followed Mathius to a table at the far end of the room and drooled at what he found. There was enough food here to feed the entire city!

“Here take this,” Mathius said absently handing him a plate.

Lorcan didn’t know what he should do, he felt like snatching everything in sight. He didn’t want to look the fool in front of Mathius, so he tried to watch his friend without letting on.

Mathius noticed. “You don’t have to copy me, Lorcan. The food is here for anyone who wants it. The servants keep it stocked so you can come here at any time during the day and eat as much as you like. See, there’s water in those jugs, and ale in those others. The wine’s in the decanters—”

He listened with his jaw on the floor as Mathius pointed to each of the dishes and drinks. He hadn’t known so many types of food and drink existed. There were sausages! He grabbed ten of them, and added some green stuff because mother always said he should. He never used to like greens, but now he couldn’t wait to stuff himself with it. He hadn’t eaten any for ages.

He sat next to Mathius and ate until he couldn’t eat another thing. There were still two of the sausages left when he was finished, but when he started to put them inside his shirt, Mathius grabbed his hand. He nearly pulled his dagger before remembering where he was.

“You’ll ruin your shirt, Lorcan,” Mathius said kindly with an understanding smile. “A servant will come and throw them to the pigs or something. If you feel hungry later, you can come and get some more. All right?”

He nodded slowly. A servant would throw them to the pigs! He was truly in another world, a world where the pigs were more important than people were. If he was careful, those two sausages could have lasted him for days on the streets.

After they finished eating, Mathius took him to Lady Elise to be measured for his robe. She said she would make two and they would be ready for tomorrow. Finally, Mathius left him back in his room, and said he would come visit the next day. With relief, Lorcan collapsed into a…
his
armchair. All this was his. Everything here was his!

He jumped up and wandered around his rooms. He lay on the bed trying to get comfortable. He needed to sleep for a short while before exploring the palace looking for Ascol. The bed was very soft, too soft. He couldn’t sleep! Back in the main room, he experimented with hiding his daggers in his boots. They fit well enough, but they were too obvious. Pushing them down further would hide them better, but then he wouldn’t be able to get to them in a hurry. Maybe tomorrow he could wear them under his robe. If it was like Mathius’ robe, it would hide them perfectly. He could almost carry a sword in those sleeves!

He sat in his chair pondering what he could do to his robe to make himself safe.

A few nights later, Lorcan prowled through the darkened corridors of the palace as had become his custom at night. His robe almost seemed to glow of its own will as he ghosted by another pair of guardsmen guarding their lord’s door. It was an illusion—not a real illusion like Mathius’ dragons—it was simply the glow of good quality wool. Something he had never owned in his life, but now he had
two
of them, and much more besides. He had a life worth living and real friends. Friends that helped each other without asking or thought of reward. That was special, and to him, a very rare thing.

Six hundred and thirty paces… Lord Atherton—allied to Keverin.

Lorcan glanced aside at the tense guardsmen, but he did not slow his pace. He smiled when he saw the white knuckled grip they had upon their swords. They knew him… well, they knew
of
him really. Everyone had heard of the attack upon The Lady and his part in her defence. They assumed, wrongly it turned out, that he had killed the brigands with his magic. They didn’t know that he was infinitely more deadly with a dagger in his hand than he ever had been with magic. Everyone knew what the robe he wore meant—he was a mage—therefore he had used magic. He certainly had no intention of telling them otherwise. Their mistake was protection of a sort.

Turn left, fifty paces… and right… Lord Chaidren—Unaligned Julia says.

Lorcan didn’t look, but he could feel the suspicious eyes of the Chaidren guardsmen burning into his shoulder blades as he left them behind. Lord Garth hadn’t chosen sides yet. There were quite a few lords that were holding back. Keverin called them the Undecideds, and spent a great deal of his time in meetings with them. Lord Gylaren shared his time between the Undecideds and the more easily influenced of Ascol’s allies. The Lady had confided to him that she didn’t agree with Gylaren on this. She said a lord that was easily swayed to Gylaren’s side, could just as easily be swayed back again by Ascol. Of course, he always agreed with whatever Julia thought best, and knew that about himself, but that didn’t make her less right. He knew that Julia could never replace his mother, no one could, but she was the next best thing—even when she insisted he learn his letters!

Straight ahead for three hundred paces…

He prowled by another row of guarded doors mentally inventorying those within. Gylaren was still ahead in the voting, but he wasn’t winning. Ascol owned too many of the more influential lords leaving the weaker ones to fend for themselves or for Gylaren to pick up. Julia was working hard to break Ascol’s allies away from him, but she had to do it quietly. Lorcan had caught her sneaking out of the women’s quarter just the other night and knew Gylaren had her to thank for Lord Reid’s change of allegiance. He didn’t know what was said, but Reid had announced his change of heart at this morning’s council meeting. More than that, he had moved into the suite next to Purcell where their combined guardsmen could guard both lords.

Lorcan made his way through the palace, ignoring several branching corridors, and suddenly side-stepped into an alcove. He squirmed into the tight space behind the statue and waited to see who was following him. The footsteps approaching faltered for a moment, but then hurried forward. He watched as two guardsmen trotted by. They wore the silver fish emblem upon their armour—Ascol’s men. Lorcan waited until the footfalls faded before emerging. He checked both ways to see if he was being observed, he wasn’t, and quickly entered the room opposite before someone else came along. He would wait here for a while before moving on, he decided.

He glanced around. The room hadn’t been used in years. It was in the newer section of the palace, but it adjoined the older corridors, which was one reason he had decided to see if it was occupied. Scouting was something he always did, and always would. He was determined never to become overconfident like some he had known on the streets. They were dead and he wasn’t because of that determination. Now was no time to change old habits.

He looked around the room but there was nothing of interest. An old and dusty bed, a chest of draws with a mirror above it, and some faded tapestries on the walls. None of these things held his interest. He turned to leave but hesitated. He looked around the room again. Something wasn’t right here, but what was it?

Dusty bed, dusty and faded tapestries, dusty chest of… the mirror was clean! Someone had been in here recently and used the mirror. He walked closer and studied his reflection. He saw a young lord in white robe staring back at him. He smiled, if only his mother could see him now. He had chosen not to change into dark clothes while wandering the corridors for a reason. People who dressed suspiciously would obviously draw suspicion down onto themselves. By wearing his robe, he looked like what he was—a nosy novice mage. If they could see what he’d done to his robe though, they would have been more than a little surprised. That, after all, was the idea.