Terry W. Ervin (16 page)

Road Toad slapped me on the back. “Looks like someone is interested in us,” he said, leading the way to an officer standing in an arched doorway signaling to us.

While walking across the well-kept grass, I spotted a few pigeons roosting on a ledge. The sight of the common birds helped me relax a little. Dragons in the courtyard must have been a common thing not to frighten them off.

Night Shard released a hawk-like roar and hissed when one of the handlers held his reins, allowing a rider to climb up. Hell Furnace looked on passively, ignoring the handlers, and instead eyed the pigeons.

Prince Reveron and Wizard Seelain entered an arched door, followed by a circle of military officers. One, a young lieutenant, split from the group and ran to the officer that had signaled us. He saluted the mustached, no nonsense looking captain and waited for a return salute before speaking. “Captain, General Riverton ordered that these mercenaries be immediately fed and then debriefed.”

“Separately?” asked the captain.

“It was not specified, sir.”

“Very well, Lieutenant Harst.” The captain nodded to Road Toad. “You’re with me.” He waved over several nearby guards. “Your weapons.”

While Road Toad handed them his sword, dagger, and javelins, I did the same with my crossbow, quiver of quarrels, spear, sword and Guzzy’s dirk.

The captain looked from the lieutenant to me. “Lieutenant, see to his needs. Quarter him in the Blue Wing.”

Road Toad winked at me. “Blue Wing is on the ground floor, goose feather bed but no windows. Be sure to request plenty of oil for the lamp.”

The captain raised an eyebrow, then frowned. “This way, Mercenary,” he said before leading Road Toad through the doorway and to the right.

Lieutenant Harst nodded to me. “This way.” He led me to the left. “The Blue Wing isn’t far.”

I followed a half step behind, trying to memorize the turns and associate them with the nearby decorative furnishings, but it was hard to fix it in my mind while keeping Lieutenant Harst’s brisk pace. The floor was made of gray stone polished smooth. Occasionally we walked across rugs with ornate designs depicting exotic animals or mosaic patterns of dull-colored shapes. The rugs were normally placed where lines of carved busts sat on pedestals. In the absences of rugs and stone sculptures, hanging tapestries similar to the rugs or varnished wooden doors took their place. Ornate wood trim lined each doorway and most of the walls.

We stayed on the same floor, although we passed several sets of worn wooden stairs spiraling up, down, or both. Oil lamps, supplemented by recessed magical lighting, illuminated the hallways and especially the stairs.

We passed two pairs of stationed guards wearing perfectly maintained chain mail and holding well-polished spears. They nodded to the lieutenant and scrutinized me as we passed, while wandering nobles dressed in silk shirts and loose trousers ignored us. The luster of the nobles’ high boots matched that of the guards’ spears. The noblewomen, with curled hair piled high on their heads, took notice of me more than of Lieutenant Harst. The stained condition of my armor stood in stark contrast to their bright-colored, high-collared dresses, each accented by purple or gold trim.

I forced myself not to stare or turn my head as we passed them. Far more than the noblemen, the noblewomen appeared to compete by displaying fine dresses and flashy jewelry.

After two right turns, the ceiling paint changed from yellow to blue. We stepped past two men removing tapestries while servant women on hands and knees scrubbed the floor with brushes and buckets of water.

I heard Lieutenant Harst counting to himself as we passed each doorway. I counted with him. My escort stopped in front of the fifth door on the right, lifted the latch and opened it. He reached to a shelf inside and retrieved a long candle. As he lit it from a nearby lamp he said, “This will be your quarters.” He led me in and lit a lamp on the far table near the long but narrow bed. “I will send a servant with food, heated water and fresh clothes.” He nodded to the oblong wooden tub before looking at me, estimating my height and girth. “Stay in the room until I or another officer comes to get you. If you need anything, ask the servant.”

“I understand,” I said, looking around the small room. “Can you tell me what a debriefing is?”

His eyebrows shot up at the question, then scowled. “You’ll probably be asked about your experience combating the enemy. My superiors will want to know what you encountered and your interpretation of events.”

“Why did they separate me from my mercenary partner?”

“To get your uninfluenced opinion, and that of your fellow mercenary.”

I wanted to ask him if the prince or the grand wizard would be debriefed, but I already knew the answer. “Sounds reasonable.” I smiled while wondering if they realized Road Toad and I had been traveling and talking together for over a day since battling the Necromancer King’s forces. “I will await the servant and your return.”

Not long after eating a plate of fruit and cheese, bathing and putting on the pale linen shirt and dark pants delivered by the servant girl, Lieutenant Harst returned. After walking armed and armored for so long, I felt vulnerable without a spear or sword. Short Two Blade’s talisman hanging around my neck under the shirt provided some comfort as Lieutenant Harst led me through a maze of corridors, down two spiraling stairwells, and along damp hallways lined with well-maintained mortared stone and black ceilings.

Alert guards stood ready as we approached an arched pair of double doors. They stepped aside. After the Lieutenant’s firm knock an internal guard opened the doors, revealing an octagonal chamber lit by dozens of flickering lamps hung from the domed ceiling.

Two women and two men sat on high stools at a circular table. Beyond them, along the walls stood a number of lower ranking officers, all in dress uniforms. Among them stood a red-haired fire wizard in orange robes and a dark-skinned earth wizard in brown robes.

I followed Lieutenant Harst, who stopped in front of the graying senior general who stood before they exchanged salutes. As I stood at attention the hair on my neck rose. Maybe it was the intricate runes etched upon the walls and support columns. It felt like I’d entered a shadowy, twilight chamber. Haunting whispers echoed from all sides until the general spoke.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said in scratchy voice. “That will be all.” Even before Lieutenant Harst turned, the general had dismissed him and narrowed his brown eyes on me. He ran his fingers over his thick mustache. “Mercenary Flank Hawk,” he said, turning and gesturing to the female soldier at the round table. “This is Colonel Isar of the Second M’unicorn Cavalry Regiment.” She had pulled her short sun-bleached hair back into a tight ball, drawing attention to her weathered face. What struck me the most was her emotionless gaze. When she nodded, the general turned to his right. “This is Colonel Brizich, serpent cavalryman of the Third Royal Bevy.” He looked like every other serpent cavalryman, confident, wearing his leather breeches with his leather riding gauntlets tucked into his belt.

The sound of Lieutenant Harst’s retreating footsteps ended as the guard closed the doors and slid a bar in place to secure them.

“And I am General Riverton, First Military Advisor to King Tobias.” When he finished, the general paused before stepping aside so that I could see the woman across the table. “This is Imperial Seer Lochelle, Prime Counselor to the King.”

Until that moment she hadn’t looked up, hiding her face behind long strands of stringy brunette hair. I managed to withhold my gasp, but not my widening eyes. Imperial was the highest rank, denoting supreme and unsurpassed skill in the magical arts. Her eyes were pure white. No pupil, no iris. For an instant the echoing whispers resurfaced. Imperial Seer Lochelle said nothing and returned her sightless stare to the still water of the table’s recessed bowl. Gray or white hair would have better matched her gaunt, creased face. Her youthful hands, adorned with jeweled rings, stood in stark contrast to her aged and haggard face.

I looked back to General Riverton who asked, “Would you care to introduce yourself to those assembled here?” He gestured quickly to the men and several women who stood along the walls.

I continued to stand at attention. With all eyes on me I gave the most formal answer that came to mind. “I left home for war, Krish, son of Thurmond of Pine Ridge, a militiaman in the service of Lord Hingroar of the Doran Confederacy. I am now Flank Hawk, mercenary in the service of the Kingdom of Keesee, under Prince Reveron.”

The shuffling of boots on the floor from behind distracted me. It even caught General Riverton’s attention, but I didn’t turn around. “Lieutenant Harst brought me here for a debriefing,” I said, knowing that standing in this room, before the most powerful seer in the land, General Riverton intended more than to ask questions. Even so, I finished, “I am prepared to answer your questions,” and swallowed despite my dry mouth.

General Riverton’s left eye closed a fraction as he evaluated me. “Mercenary Flank Hawk, we’re assembled here for more than a question and answer session.”

I didn’t want to cause Lieutenant Harst any trouble along his chain of command that undoubtedly led up to General Riverton. So I stood and waited for the general to explain further before I said anything.

“We’ve brought you here so that Imperial Seer Lochelle can provide us with visual intelligence about the enemy, his equipment and tactics.” He pointed just above his temple. “She’ll draw it from your memories. What you saw while facing the enemy.”

“I can tell you exactly what I saw, General, sir.” I knew my voice wasn’t as steady as I’d intended. Catching sight of the seer concentrating on the water hadn’t helped.

Colonel Brizich began to laugh before stifling it with an improvised cough to clear his throat.

“Do you have something to add, Colonel?” asked the general.

“I do,” said the serpent cavalryman, “if I may?”

“As one of the king’s advisors, it is your right.”

“Thank you, General. I will be brief.” Colonel Brizich stood from his stool and took a step toward me. “This frightened boy is no soldier.” He shook his head. “We are wasting our time. Ask him a few questions. You’ll see.”

Cleaned and dressed as I was, without weapons or armor, I looked unimpressive compared to the equipped soldiers and robed wizards around me. The colonel saw me as nothing more than a well-dressed peasant.

Colonel Brizich snorted, placed his hand upon his sword’s hilt, and stepped back. “Bah, let’s get this over with, if he has the courage.”

I wasn’t the seasoned soldier that the colonel was, but I was no longer a farmhand either. “General, may I speak?”

He nodded. “What do you have to say, Mercenary Flank Hawk?”

“I entered a mercenary agreement with Prince Reveron to fight the enemy as directed by him or his officers. I did not agree to allow a seer to siphon my memories.”

Colonel Isar stared across the table at Colonel Brizich. He shot her an amused glace while hiding a grin by scratching his nose.

“I can assure you,” said the general, “that you’ll retain your memories. I am sure the king will agree to additional pay for your cooperation.” His right hand formed into a fist which he slid into his left hand. “It is important that we observe the enemy’s tactics, and determine how to adjust our training and tactics to overcome the enemy’s new weapons.”

The prince, I knew, had seen at least as much as me. Grand Wizard Seelain and Road Toad as well. Road Toad might have already been through this. Maybe he refused, but he certainly would not have allowed his bravery to be questioned. Neither would I. “The coin Prince Reveron offered for my service is fair.”

I recalled Road Toad warning me that, as a mercenary, I’d have to demand respect to earn or keep it. Almost always it involved a risk of confrontation. But, he said, to ignore insults inevitably led to deadly confrontations. So I locked gazes with the serpent cavalryman. “I would ask that Colonel Brizich describe to this humble mercenary his experience in having Imperial Seer Lochelle draw out his memories of combating panzers and Stukas. The telling of his heroic deeds may inspire me in mustering equal courage.”

Imperial Seer Lochelle looked up with a twisted look of anger on her face. I couldn’t help but to step back. All in the room avoided looking at her, except the general, who turned smartly to face her.

“General,” she whispered, her voice amplified by the chamber. “Our king awaits, the enemy marches.” The general nodded and she returned her gaze to the water.

My mouth had gone dry again, and my mind raced. How could I back out? The prince’s officers needed to see what they faced. But if the seer touched my memories she would learn I was a rogue healer.

I stood straight, realizing that cooperation would end my freedom. The Healers’ Guild would take me. General Riverton had turned to address Colonel Brizich, but I interrupted him. “General, sir?”

He turned back to me. “Yes, Mercenary?”

“I agree to allow the king’s Prime Counselor to work her magic on me.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Colonel Brizich relax. “You need to know what’s coming.”

The general nodded. “Very good.” He slid his stool away while the two colonels picked up their stools and stepped back. He took my arm and guided me forward. Pointing down to a padded bench, he said, “Kneel there and follow the imperial seer’s directions.”