[Lanen Kaelar 03] - Redeeming the Lost (25 page)

“Who are you, then?” asked a voice from the
crowd.

“Nobody,” Jamie replied, grinning like a wolf.
It wasn’t a comforting sight. “I just happened to be there when all the
fighting was going on last night.” He bared a few more teeth. “Oddly enough, I
don’t recall seeing any of you.”

Jamie, you idiot, that’s not going to help, I
thought, wincing as a low growl seemed to wander of its own accord among the
crowd.

“That damned dragon killed the Magistri and
destroyed the College, and there it sits in the midst of its handiwork!” cried
one, pointing at Shikrar. At those words, a murmur of assent ran through the
mob, and it began to surge forward. What they thought they were going to do to
a dragon I can’t imagine, but when you get that many angry people together,
good sense is the first thing to leave.

“Foolishness,” said Shikrar, sounding slightly
amused and seeming to ignore the movement towards him. He was still lying down.
Well done, Shikrar, I thought, realising that he had chosen his position
carefully. You’re a touch less intimidating like that, and you look relaxed.
Good thinking. “At least allow me to be bright enough to fly away, having
caused such destruction, lest the good folk of the town come in the morning to
avenge my evil deeds upon my hide.”

“Nonsense!” cried a loud voice from the back,
and “Make way for Magister Rikard!” This sparked a swift-rushing murmur of “It’s
a Magister, one of them survived, it’s Rikard, he’ll tell us the truth.”

Ah, Hygel, you old fox, I thought. Small
wonder you’re one of my best agents. Good man, excellent man, as Shia hears me
I’ll see you promoted for this.

The crowd parted and a double column of
bleary-eyed student mages marched towards Shikrar, Magister Rikard at the rear.
When they reached the open space before the crowd, the little group divided
itself, one column to either side, Magister Rikard remaining in the centre.

“It cheers my heart to see so many of you come
to offer your thanks to our preserver,” he said as loudly as he could. “Were it
not for the dragon Shikrar here, we would be in even worse case this morning
than we are.”

“What happened, Magister?” called a voice, and
all the others chimed in asking the same.

“It was Archimage Berys,” said Rikard loudly,
at which silence fell like a leaden blanket.

“He was killed?” cried the voice, dangerously
angry now.

“No, mores the pity,” said Rikard. “He was the
cause of the destruction.”

“You’ve always hated Berys,” accused the same
voice as a short powerful man with grey-shot brown hair stepped forward. He
continued. “We’ve all known it for years. Why should we believe you?”

“Because it’s bloody true!” shouted one of the
students. He was tall and gangling in the way of young men, his close-clipped
red hair blazing in the morning sun. He strode towards the loud objector, until
Rikard motioned him to stop short. “Who are you, then?” asked the lad
aggressively. “I didn’t see you here last night, when we were damn nigh killed.”

Oh, lad, don’t take your lessons in tact from
Jamie, I thought, cringing. You’ll never make a friend again.

“I’m Tolmas, stonemason and builder,” replied
the man hotly, “and I’ve a family, young man. I kept them safe last night.
Fighting demons is your work, not mine.”

“Fighting demons is work for all of us, Master
Tolmas,” said Shikrar quietly.

“Except for Berys,” snapped Rickard. “He’s the
one that called that abomination down on us.”

“How do you know?” replied Tolmas, undeterred.
“And how did you escape and all? We thought all the Magistri were killed.”

“I am the last,” said Rickard, his face stony.
“To answer your question, Tolmas, I escaped because I was suspicious, and when
I saw the armed guards at the doors, ere ever the Archimage arrived, I ran. I
am a rank coward but I live. Are you answered?”

I winced for him. He was a straight arrow,
sure enough, but I didn’t see the need for truth that stark. Maybe I could give
him lying lessons.

‘Then how do you know this was all Berys’s
doing?” snarled Tolmas, speaking still for the crowd.

“He doesn’t. I do,” said the tall lad.

“Aye, and who in all the Hells are you
anyroad?” demanded Tolmas.

I heard rather than saw a slight movement at
the back of the crowd. Will, Vilkas, and Aral had arrived, and behind them
Varien and Lanen were moving swiftly towards us.

“M’name’s Chalmik,” said the lad sullenly. I
couldn’t blame him. Never mind sullen, I’d have been furious if some loudmouth had
been annoying me after I’d fought for my life, but I think he was too weary for
it. “I’ve been at the College for four years. I was to take my warrant exams
next month. Wasn’t doing too badly either.” He glanced behind him and said
laconically, “Not too many warrants going to come out of there, now, are there?”

“Was it really Berys?” asked a new voice. “Did
you see him?” This was an older woman. Her voice trembled, poor soul. They had
all trusted him.

“Yes, it was really Berys, him that was the
Archimage.” Chalmik’s voice rose and he pitched it to carry to the back of the
crowd. I was impressed. “He showed up wearing robes with demon symbols on ‘em,
asked us students if we wanted to side with him and the demons, and when we
refused he called up his little pets and threw them at us while he laughed,”
said Chalmik. “I’ve never seen such coldhearted evil in my life. Oh, it was
Berys alright, in the flesh and twice as ugly. And if I ever see him again, by
the Lady’s hand I swear I’ll kill him.”

Jamie murmured, “Get in line, lad,” but very,
very quietly.

“What did the dragon have to do with it?”
someone cried. Oh, well, yes, it might have been me. Caught up in the moment.
As it were.

The corner of Chalmik’s eye shivered, but he
never did so crass a thing as wink. “We were all gathered in the main hall,
trying to get through doors that had been locked with sorcery. We were about to
choose whether we’d rather be cooked in the fire or eaten raw by the demon when
some voice the size of a mountain calls out to stand away and we saw this huge
claw come through the wood like it was so much paper.” He grinned back at
Shikrar. ‘We thought it was another demon at first, but it pulled the doors off
and let us out. If we’d been in there another minute, we’d all have died. My word
to the Lady on it. He saved us.”

A middle-aged woman moved out of the main
crowd then. She was short and stout, but with a bright eye and a kind, worried,
very pale face. It didn’t take a Healer to realise that she was in shock.
Ignoring Magister Rikard, she walked straight up to Chalmik and laid her hand
on his arm. “My daughter is a student.

She’s done really well in her Healers work.
Magistra Erthik said she’d be a fine worker with women and babes.” The woman
glanced along the scant faces of the score of students, her eyes seeking
desperately what her heart knew was not there. “I don’t see her. Her name’s
Elishbet. Please—please—where are the others? Where is my daughter?”

Chalmik, that great gawk of an awkward young
man, leaned down and took the woman’s hands in his, calmly. “She’s gone to the
Goddess, Mother,” he said, gazing straight into her desolate eyes. “I’m so
terribly sorry.” His voice shook then, but only for an instant. “Elishbet was a
friend of mine. You should be proud of her. She was a damn fine Healer.”

The woman nodded once to him, stood motionless
for a moment, then went over to Shikrar. Chalmik followed, at a discreet
distance. So did we all.

Shikrar regarded her gravely. She stared at
him. “You killed the demon, did you?”

“I did, Lady,” he said simply.

“You’re not even scratched.”

“I was badly wounded,” he answered, hearing
the accusation under the statement. ‘Two of the students honoured me and healed
me last night. If you care to look, you will find the new scale on my back and
my right flank. It is lighter in colour than the rest.”

He shifted himself so that she could see. She
went right up to him and touched the new scale, noting the extent of it. It
covered half his back, but at that moment it was her bravery that wrung my
heart. “That’s a right bad wound, sure enough. But perhaps you don’t feel pain
like we do.”

“Despite the healing I feel it even now, Lady,
I assure you,” he said, keeping his voice level. “If the students had not been
so kind to me I would be in agony for many moons to come, at the very best.”

She stared up at him. “They had to heal you so
you could kill the thing?”

“No. I killed it first.”

“But you didn’t kill it before it killed all
the other Mages,” she said, anger rising with every word. “You didn’t kill it
before it murdered my daughter, damn you!” She balled up her fists and struck
out at him as hard as she could, again and again, putting her back into it,
beating out her pain on that dark bronze hide. You could see that he barely
felt it.

The crowd shivered but Shikrar ignored them.
He lowered his great head to the level of her eyes, slowly, so as not to
frighten her, and he spoke as gently as he might and still be heard.

“Lady, my only child still lives, so I cannot
know your pain: but I swear on my soul that I destroyed the Raksha the instant
I could. I am not a god.” At that she stopped striking him and looked up, into
those huge eyes so near her own. Shikrar’s red soulgem blazed in the morning
light. “I am not some beast out of legend, with magical powers to change the
way things are. I am a creature of this world, like you, flesh and blood. I can
fail, like you. I did what I could. If I could turn back time and save every
single soul who died last night, I would do it, were it to cost my own life—but
I cannot, and such words are empty. I grieve for your loss, Lady, as I do for
all those whose loved ones are gone to the Winds, but I am not responsible for
it. You must look to Berys for that.”

She stared at him still, not even seeming to
notice that she was starting to shake. Chalmik moved up to stand beside her. “Mother,
come, let me help you, you’re in shock—”

“I’m not your mother,” she snapped. “My child
is dead.” Her anger gave her just enough strength to turn away from Shikrar,
but at her first step her knees gave way. Chalmik caught her as if he had been
expecting it and half led, half carried her gently away.

That was the turning point. It was as if a
string had been cut, or a spell released. The crowd let out its collective
breath. Those who had no one to look for drifted away. Of the rest, some few
went to speak with Magister Rikard, but most moved forlornly towards the ruins
of the College and started to shift the rubble.

It is such a human thing. Even when we think
all hope is gone we still look, not able to understand such devastation and
death, not willing to let such a terrible disaster be real all at once. We
look, just in case there might be someone trapped, someone escaped by some
miracle, who still needs our help, every slightest noise shattering through us
as hope tries to return in the face of terrible tragedy, as we listen for what
we know will not come—but we cannot help it. It is in our bones. Move stone.
Shift rubble. Dig down to ground level. Look for survivors.

Look for bodies.

Shikrar, watching three men trying to shift a
large lump of wall, rose with a sigh and went to help.

We had all been willing to do our part, but
Shikrar did most of the work. Vil and Aral were gone, with Will as witness, to
make their peace with their former comrades and Magister Rikard. The rest of us
took a little time to rest and speak together. Jamie came over to join Varien,
Lanen, and me, and Lanen stepped forward into Jamie’s waiting arms.

“Jamie,” I whispered in his ear as we held
each other tight.

“Lanen, my girl,” rasped Jamie, stretching up
to kiss my cheek. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

I laughed, as he knew I would, my arms about
him. “I swear, I’ll avoid demon-masters in future!”

“Just you do that, fool child,” he said,
moving back a little and feigning a cuff at my head. He kept hold of one of my
hands, though. “I thought I’d taught you better than that.”

“I was fighting magic, after all,” I said in
mock self-defence. “But it’s true. I owe you my fife again.” My hand gripped
his and found an answering pressure the equal of mine. “Goddess, Jamie,” I
said, shivering, “I was sure we were dead—”

“Now, my girl, no need to go over it,” he
said. “It’s done. You’re safe.” We embraced once more, and I whispered, “Thank
you, my father,” before I let him go.

Varien came to my side and without warning
went down on one knee before Jamie and bowed his head. I ignored Bella’s
unladylike snort.

“I am more deep in your debt than ever I might
repay,” he said solemnly. “I was too far distant last night to help my beloved
when her need was greatest. If ever I or mine may serve you, only let      ‘
your desire be known and it will be done.”

“I thought you owed me one anyway, for letting
you marry Lanen,” said Jamie, grinning.