Merchants and Mages (Highmage's Plight Book 2) (27 page)

  “Once ready your troops will
assault Niota under the cover of darkness,” the guard told the Captain as he drew the head of the messenger from a sack. “Or die trying.”

  “We shall not fail Lord Fenn, Milord,” the Captain replied.

  “See your men understand that.”

An exhausted Thomi was roused by the cry from the west gate. He wasn’t the only one. The ogres paused, setting aside the prodigious amount of food they were consuming. Walsh staggered back into position. Three female ogres and four children readied themselves as three exhausted males struggled to rise.

 
The sound of horses’ hooves abruptly filled the courtyard as the Imperial Gate opened wide. Legionnaires rode into the main courtyard and stared. There was splattered blood, several bodies of soldiers dressed in Trelorian colors, and wounded raggedly dressed humans standing about who had taken arms for the defense.

 
Thomi turned.

 
“Ahem,” the Sergeant said, “uh, Milord, the lady said you needed help and apparently was not kidding. Men, to the battlements!”  

 
The ogres eyed the legionnaires, who quickly dismounted and rushed to man the walls as they drew recurve bows. Seeing the climbing Trelorians, they let fly as they had trained.

  There were cries.

The Sergeant came up to the boy in elvin chainmail with Niota’s sigil. “A little young to be lord, Sir, aren’t you?”

 
“I don’t feel so young anymore, Sergeant.”

 
“Get some sleep, we’ll need you for the next assault or the one after… thank the Empress that the boys slept in the saddle much of the time.”

 
“See to the Legionnaires mounts,” Thomi said to one of the older refugees, who nodded, gesturing for assistance to his fellows as he did as he was bid.

 
“That’s gracious of you, Milord… Uh, Lord Niota.”

 
The boy headed back down from the battlements.

 
“Empress help us; that boy’s not even a bloomin’ elf,” the Sergeant muttered, then saw the action getting lively. “HEY! PUSH THEM, SO THEY TAKE THE LADDERS WITH THEM!”

 
His boys let fly and kicked those nearly upon them. There were screams as ladders fell. “NOW THAT’S MORE LIKE IT, LADS!”

Walsh woke.

  NI–O–
TA was singing. Every ogre of its lineage was here now. He

glanced at the sleeping Thomi. He looked like a boy, but he
wasn’t

any longer. He was Lord Niota now. He had fought to defend this place, led into battle even the untrained humans, who had taken refuge here over the years, who had been trapped here.

  The floor upon which the boy lay had reshaped itself for Thomi’s comfort.

 
The ogre shook his head. The Trelorians were retreating for now. But they would be back and next time it would be worse.

 
‘Oh, help is coming.’

 
Walsh looked about him, “Who?”

 
The voice laughed and took his question literally,
‘Niota has chosen a wife for your nice young man – and she is bringing a friend, who, well, knows the right kind of people.’

 
Walsh frowned and muttered, “I –– know –– that –– voice.”

 
‘Why, you actually remember me? How delightful? I guess cursing you for eternity has some advantages after all.’

 
Shaking his head, Walsh almost remembered. But it was so hard. So long

ago he had been human, many lifetimes ago in service of Niota. So long ago since he had been a spacer and had go
ne to war to save their lost colony.

  NI–O–
TA intervened.

 
‘So, my dear, I shall not disturb your pet further. You know where to find me if you need anything.’
He laughed.

  NI–O–
TA made her displeasure known. It may not be alive but it could feel pain, apparently.

 
‘No need to get huffy… I am going!’

Nagging Vision, Nagging Doubt

Chapter 46

I
t watched Esperanza. The elfblooded woman was persistent. Her horse had gone lame and, though she was not a healer, she still did her best for the poor creature. But it was to no avail. She would have to walk the rest of the way.

 
‘This was taking too long. No fun at all.’
He looked around for someone suitable in the city. Ah, there they were – the pair that had broken his ward – and that fascinating staff. It stood beside the bed glowing. He probed around it. It kept him out, but was not emanating magic.

 
‘Leave,’
demanded the spirit that gave the Summoning life.

 
‘Oh? And why should I do that? Ouch… Fine, be that way. You claim them, cousin… But I’ve chosen my own piece for the Great Game…’

 
‘This is not a game and you cannot just play with their lives.’

 
‘Well, I have limited options as you well know… and I have much to learn about the Empire.’

 
‘Have you picked a side?’
it asked.

 
‘Not yet…’

 
‘Don’t take too long. As is it, the Demonlord’s minions are on the move.’

 
He saw an image of an old elf, who looked far from happy, heading out of the city in a private carriage on the Northland Road. Fog obscured the vision, but more fog could be seen heading south – possibly originating from the Tower of the Consecrated.

 
‘So the lady has left her Tower and is heading here.’
This was not good for Esperanza, who would arrive too late. She really did need help.

 
‘Still not taking sides?’
it asked.

 
‘I thought the idea of a kingdom was foolish, too.’

 
‘Now it’s an Empire, Sage One.’

 
‘You know I have no love of humans.’

 
‘No reason you should.’
He turned to seek other game and heard,
‘Good

hunting.’

  What had Elfdom come to?
he wondered.

 
‘Perhaps, someone with friends might be of more assistance to you?’
He was offered an image of a sleeping mage with pathetic wards protecting him.

 
‘Don’t think this means I owe you!’

 
‘Of course not.’
Laughter echoed behind him as he moved across the city in the blink of an eye.

 
He focused on the mage and whispered in his dreams,
‘I have a task for you… You are going to need to keep some of your Faeryn mages in reserve. Talik will have enough help. It’s the Lyai who must be warned of danger… There is a young scryer stranded on the East Road… She is marked by elvin chainmail and she’s your witness that the Scryer’s Network has been suborned.’

Galt slept fitfully. He had the most vivid dream of a young woman in chainmail on the… which road?

 
‘East Road, idiot… She’s your proof… Go to her; help her reach the Lyai to warn him.’

 
“Crazy,” he muttered.

 
‘Perhaps, but can you take that chance, Master Galt?’

 
His eyes opened and he sat up. “What?”

 
‘Dare you take that chance?’

 
“Who said that?”

 
There was a breeze on his cheek, then he knew he was alone. He pointed at the candle, which lit, then turned, “Where are my damn boots?”

Esperanza bolted awake. Her armor was swirling, turning fluid, becoming the waters of the scrying pool that had shattered around her only, what, two days before?

 
She saw a mage waking others in the middle of the night.

 
‘He’s coming here, you realize.’

 
She glanced at the night sky, “Yes, I had an inkling that might be the case.”

 
There was laughter.
‘My, you do wake up badly.’

 
Shaking her head, “Okay, perhaps I do.”

 
‘Better… much better… and just for that, I am going to give you a present.’

 
Water welled up from the ground beside her. It fountained upward and

fire burned within it. Abruptly there was no water. But there was a sword – another black metal sword.

 
‘It is not as fancy as the one your friend took with her, but it should do.’

 
“You’re giving me some sort of bane sword?” she muttered.

 
‘Well, it is not precisely a bane sword. Consider it a relic. It was buried in the Barrows and you will, no doubt, put it to much better use.’

 
She reached out to it.

 
‘I would not do that.’

 
Her fingers stopped within inches of its hilt. “Uh, why?”

 
‘You are wielding a spell at the moment. It really does not like spells.’

 
“Then how did you bring it here?”

 
‘Believe it or not, not through magery. It followed you here.’

 
“Right; like you have?”

 
‘Hmm, something like that, yes.’

 
She rose off her knees and stood. “Okay, I’ll bite. What I am supposed to do with it?”

 
‘Why give it to the nice elf with the horse, of course.’

 
She nodded, “Ah, huh.”

 
Her armor solidified and gave off light.

 
‘Best not touch the blade when your armor’s like that, either.’

 
“Thanks for the safety tip. Now, can I go back to sleep?”

 
‘Please, it is not like I am going anywhere.’

 
“Great,” she whispered, wondering how she was going to fall back asleep with a ghost hanging around.

Traitorous Scryer

Chapter 47

F
ri’il awoke to the aroma of herbal tea. Se’and smiled at her, but it was Lord Je’orj’s look that made her say, “Okay, am I dying, or something?”

 
George nodded, “Well, ‘or something’ sums it up.”

 
Fri’il felt the bump on her head. It was gone. “You healed me.”

 
The tawny furred, black maned beast, Raven, bounded onto the bed. She was lolling her tongue, then settled at Fri’il’s feet. George nodded, “Yes, we healed you and learned something when we did.”

 
The staff stood sentinel at the foot of the bed. It, well, twinkled at her. “Okay, what did you learn?”

 
Se’and glanced at George, who nodded. She grinned, “Fri’il, you’re pregnant.”

 
“Right, I’m pregnant.”

 
Raven shimmered and changed form and chuckled, “I to have a sister.”

 
Fri’il suddenly looked uncertain. “You mean, I’m pregnant?”

 
George sighed, “You think we’d lie about something like that?”

 
She glanced down at herself, “But, but I don’t feel any different.”

 
“You will,” Se’and said.

 
“But, but –– I don’t want to give up my sword training!”

“Cathartans,” George muttered, “and their knives.”

Fri’il was now dancing on the bed, “I’m pregnant!”

  Raven jumped on the bed and Se’and was, well, on watch, might best describe it.

 
:George,:
his computer staff said through their rapport,
:lucky you. We are going to be a father.:

 
He turned away from Fri’il’s delighted face as Raven fell into her arms. In a whisper, he said, “Right, this changes nothing. We’re going to find the Gate and go home.”

 
Se’and looked at him.

 
:George, what are you going to do about the – baby?:

 
“Same as always since we got here. Play it by ear and hope for the best.”

 
Se’and came up to him. “You look far too serious, Milord. The first child of our House will be born.”

 
“Yeah, I realize that.”

 
Se’and glared at him, then whispered, “If you spoil this moment for Fri’il, I’ll kill you.”

 
Now that was a cheery thought. He walked back over to the bed and opened his arms to his young bodyguard – who was his wife in everything but name.

 
Staff watched.

 
Se’and watched George hug the mother of his first born child to be –– and she looked anything but joyous. Staff hid that knowledge, logging it with the knowledge that this pregnancy was all its fault.

“So, they did not send for a healer.”

 
“No, Milord,” the innkeeper told the elfblood.

 
“Anything else to report, Jakov?”

 
“Uh, only that those in the room below complained about the noise this morning.”

 
“What kind of noise?” Jakov knew his duty, but also believed his guests deserved their privacy. “Out with it.”

 
Jakov wasn’t particularly courageous, which is why his lack of discretion could always be counted on. “The bed’s banging on the floor a lot. I was about to go up to discuss it, when you arrived.”

 
“Oh, leave that to me,” he said with a smile. “I will talk to them

about it when I return this to them.”

  Jakov, all too quickly, agreed; glad to see the Lyai’s agent go. He grabbed up the two gold pieces conspicuously left on the counter.

Fri’il was dancing with her lord to music only they, and Raven, could hear. Se’and was both amused and chagrinned. Delighted Je’orj, at least, was paying proper attention to Fri’il; chagrinned Raven was still naked and wouldn’t tell her what she’d done with her servant’s clothes. The wer–girl was sitting on the bed, looking actually happy. Shaking her head, Se’and

knew how vexing the girl could be –– and how dangerous.

  The knock at the door was most unwelcome. “Get back in bed, Fri’il,” Se’and rasped, then glared at Raven, who rose and shimmered, then bounded off the bed.

 
George took up his staff as Fri’il ducked under the covers. Se’and glanced back one last time, then opened the door a crack.

 
“Ma’am.”

 
“You again,” she opened the door and stood aside.

 
“I heard you had some trouble last night… Master d’Aere.”

 
“Master Terhun,” George said as Se’and closed the door.

 
The Imperial agent glanced at the bed. “I hope the lad’s doing better.”

 
“He’ll be fine,” George replied.

 
“Good… Oh, and I believe this belongs to you, too.” Terhun tossed a bulky wrapped package on the floor. It tore open, and a corner of Raven’s servant boot jutted forth.

 
The beast growled.

 
“You know hounds haven’t been seen in the Province, possibly the whole of the Empire in centuries. They are Northland beasts after all. Saw a few when I served in the legion, though. But none with such tawny blonde fur or such a lovely black mane. One night, though, I saw a hound that had been practically a pet to one of the mages walk out of the perimeter. It was dark that night, but I could have sworn I saw that hound stand on two feet. I’ll never forget when I heard laughter. It was a man’s laughter. A man I’d heard laugh before, one of our Chain Hill scouts I hadn’t seen in a while.”

 
Terhun gazed unflinchingly at Raven. “You killed last night, boy. I understand that. You had no choice.”

 
Raven tilted her head and glanced at George, who nodded. She rose on her haunches then shimmered, changing form.

 
“Empress,” Terhun muttered, “you’re a girl.”

 
She growled, muttered, “I no girl.”

 
Fri’il sat up in bed, “No, you’re not.”

 
Terhun scratched his head, “Quite the family you have here, Jeo.”

 
“Yes… and I want to keep it that way.”

 
“Oh, far be it from me to interfere with that. Now, who –– or I should say, what are you really?”

 
“Hmm, I’m a teacher primarily. A rather angry one, where this Mage

Guild of yours is concerned.”

  With a wry grin, “Well, how would you like to see them get their comeuppance?”

He entered the wayside tavern and went to the barkeeper, and placed a gold piece on the table. “I am meeting a lady.”

 
The man frowned and glanced at the coin, it was not a standard Imperial; flames emblazoned it, making it a coin for a followers of the Demonlord. The other advantage to enchanted coins is that they could only be recognized by those sworn to the Dark Lord.

 
Nodding, the man muttered, “Upstairs, fourth room on the left, Milord.”

 
He continued on without thanking the man, he was only human, after all. Climbing the stairs, he proceeded to the room and knocked on the door.

 
The door opened, seemingly of its own volition. “Uh, finally, what took you so long?”

 
“Took me so long? Why have you left the Tower? Are you crazy?

Your assignment is to lead the effort to blind the fool Imperials.”

  “Which will only continue to be possible after I deal with the twit of a girl who escaped the Tower and knows the truth,” she replied.

 
“How could you have been so stupid?”

 
She glared at him. “Her name is Esperanza.”

 
“What?” he shouted. “Do you know what it took for me to get rid of her without anyone questioning her being given into your so tender mercies?”

 
“Yes… But she’s not someone we can kill outright. It’s not like the Emerilyn’s unwonted heir to the wealthiest House in the Mage Guild Alliance would
not be the subject of an official Imperial investigation.” 

 
He grimaced. “What do you need?”

 
“I need you to get me in to see Archmage Constandine.”

 
“That old fool?”

 
She grinned, “Precisely.”