The Archmage Unbound (37 page)

I questioned her for a bit longer, and
she described in more detail exactly what had happened: Penny’s words to
Dorian about his visor, the way the assassins had entered… the resulting
fight. From her description I could see that Penny had clearly been expecting
what had happened.
But why didn’t she avoid it?
I wondered. She had
seen her death approaching, she could have hidden instead of following the
expected routine, but she didn’t. What could have been so terrible that she
had accepted her own death to prevent it?

I looked up and realized I had missed my
mother’s last few words. “Pardon?” I said.

“I asked what you were thinking.”

“I was thinking I should examine your
wound more properly,” I said to cover my distraction.

“Will it hurt?” she asked, a bit
nervously.

I drew my chair close beside hers. “It
shouldn’t, unless I need to fix something.”

“Maybe I should lie down then,” she
suggested. I almost smacked myself, I should have thought of that.

“That’s a good idea,” I replied. Once
she had gotten comfortable on the bed I sat beside her and put my hand on her
midsection. Closing my eyes I turned my attention entirely to my magesight,
focusing on the woman beside me. I hoped that whatever I found would be
simple, if it were too much I might have to leave my own body, as I had with
Penny once before. Something like that was risky as I had already learned.

After several minutes I had satisfied
myself. The cut had severed the skin, fat, and muscle of her abdomen. It also
appeared that her liver and one of her lungs had been damaged, but those had
already been repaired. The abdominal muscles hadn’t been completely rejoined
however, which was probably what was causing her pain. I damped the nerve
impulses in that region and carefully knitted them back together.

Opening my eyes again I looked at her,
she had been watching me carefully the entire time. “I think I found the
problem. It wasn’t anything serious, but it would have hurt for a long time.”

“Do you know how I was healed?” she
asked.

“Magic,” I said simply, “but I don’t
understand why.”

She put her hand over mine, “You will
find out.”

I smiled at her, “I will.”

“Just don’t do anything stupid along the
way,” she cautioned.

“I’m in much better control of myself
today.”

She shook her head. “I don’t mean that
you shouldn’t punish those behind it. Just make sure you know for certain who
the blame falls on before you do anything permanent.”

“I understand,” I said to reassure her.

She continued anyway, “Then when you’re
certain, you make damn sure they never have a chance to hurt anyone else we
love ever again.”

We agreed on that at least.

***

Lady Thornbear and one of the duke’s
guards preceded me into the cell. The man imprisoned there was bound and his
eyes were covered with a blindfold. He moaned quietly as we entered. A soft
bed had been placed in the cell and I looked at Dorian’s mother questioningly.

“I didn’t want him dying before you
returned,” she said. “If we had left him on the floor he might have developed
sores and died of infection.”

I nodded, “Is he awake?”

“He should be close to conscious but it
hardly matters. After a week of this his mind is muddled, it will be hours
after he wakes before he regains his senses completely,” she replied.

I was learning to see Lady Elise in a
new light. As a child she had simply been Dorian’s mother, strict, but kind
and loving as well. Now I was forced to face the fact that she was also a
skilled herbalist and poisoner. Somehow the two pictures refused to come
together for me.

“You’ve done this before haven’t you?” I
said without thinking.

There was a gleam in her eye as she
answered, “Never a wizard… that made it much more difficult. When you find out
who sent him let me know, I’ll make something special for you to give them.”

A shiver went down my spine as she said
it and I remembered, this was a woman that had just lost her son.
She
probably wants revenge just as badly as I do.

“I’m going to move him to Castle
Cameron,” I told her, and then I nodded toward the guard. “I’ll need your help
moving him since he’s not quite sensible yet.”

She looked at me questioningly, “Are you
sure that’s wise? You have no dungeon in your keep.”

“The dungeon isn’t what kept him here
milady, you were, or rather it was the use of your arts that held him. I will
keep a close watch upon him using other means,” as I finished the statement I
leaned over and carefully clasped a delicate silver necklace around the
prisoner’s neck. I kept my movements casual but I was very careful as I did
so.

“What is that?” Elise Thornbear asked.

“Something I devised,” I said smugly.
“It will keep him contained until I can decide his fate.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Very,” I answered.

She smiled, “You were always a good boy
Mordecai. My son thought the world of you.”

“I was never as good as Dorian, but I
hold him as an inspiration for what people could be,” I replied with complete
sincerity.

Lady Thornbear leaned over then and
surprised me with a kiss on the cheek. It was sudden and gentle, but I
imagined I felt a trace of her tears there as well. “Thank you for that
Mordecai. Here take this.” She thrust a small glass phial into my hands.

I didn’t question her but my look said
the words for me, with one eyebrow slightly raised.

“It tastes sweet, like honey liquor.
Flavor a drink with it, or use it as a sweet garnish for a dessert and the
recipient will fall into a deep slumber, never to awaken again,” she said
quietly.

“Why me?”

“If anyone is going to find those
responsible for this it will be you. I doubt you’ll need it when you find
them, but sometimes subtlety is the only way, even for a wizard,” she answered.

“How long does it take to work?”

Her eyes twinkled in the dim light,
“Good question… a day at least, sometimes two if they don’t get a large dose.”

“A day before they fall asleep or a day
before they stop breathing?” I said to be sure.

“A day before they sleep, death follows
hours after that.”

I frowned, “That seems terribly slow.”

“You have much to learn. Speed is not
usually the poisoner’s friend. Slow and certain is better, and it gives you
more time and distance to allay suspicion. People tend to blame the last meal
eaten rather than the one from the day before.”

The more I learned of Lady Thornbear’s
secret profession the more she frightened me. How could a creature so well
versed in subtlety and lethal deception have been the same woman who raised my
friend Dorian?

My confusion must have shown on my face
for she patted my cheek reassuringly, “Don’t fret about it Mordecai, we all
must take on various roles in our lives. Some people confuse their identity
with what they do. Don’t mistake a ‘role’ for your ‘self’. I have done many
things, but I am none of them, I am Lady Elise Thornbear. I have been a
healer, a wife, a mother, and sometimes when necessary, a poisoner.”

Her words struck a chord within me,
resonating with some inner truth. I knew I would remember them for a long time
to come. “Thank you Elise,” I said, using her given name for the first time in
my life. “You were always kind to us as children, except when strictness was
called for. I never doubted you, no matter what hidden talents you possess.”

I turned to the guard, “Help me get him
up. I want him back in Castle Cameron and in a soft bed before he comes to his
senses.”

The man I had brought back was still
lying in the bed where I had had him placed, but he hadn’t shown many signs of
consciousness yet. Occasionally he would open his eyes and stare about the
room, but his pupils were dilated and his gaze seemed unfocused. After a week
in a drug induced slumber I imagined he was very confused. Instinctively I
worried that the treatment he had endured might have permanently damaged his
mental faculties. Then I caught myself,
Why the hell would I care if he’s
damaged?

A knock came at the door, but I already
knew that it was Lisette. “Come in,” I yelled in the direction of the door.
She came in followed by several other maids bearing a large copper tub and
towels. “Just set the tub over there,” I directed, pointing to one side of the
room.

Harold entered a moment later, his eyes
following Lisette as she bustled about the room. I didn’t say anything, not
wanting to embarrass either of them, especially since he didn’t realize I knew
about their relationship already. After a moment he pulled his gaze from her
and addressed me, “I still don’t understand why you have him in this room, your
Lordship.”

I sighed, “I don’t have a dungeon and
even if I did he’d probably sicken if I kept him there. From what I can see he
lost a lot of blood before he stopped his leg from bleeding. James says he was
pinned under the portcullis for a short time.”

“You only need him conscious and awake
for as much time as it takes to find out what he knows,” he replied implying
that I would have the wizard executed shortly after that.

“I don’t intend to execute him,” I said
simply. Harold looked shocked and given my behavior the day previous I
couldn’t blame him. I had been close to doing much worse than mere execution.
The memory made me shudder for a second, and I had to struggle to suppress the
visions of fire and torment that still seemed somewhat attractive to me.

Harold stood, agitated, and after a
moment he spoke. I was quite certain he had thrown out the first several
sentences that came to mind. I had to admire his self-control. “I assume you
have some particular reason for putting him up in a soft bed and nursing him
back to health.”

“I do. I intend to put him to work on
my behalf. I believe he may be more valuable to me alive than dead, though
only time will tell.”

Harold’s eye twitched. “What about Lord
Dorian? What about your wife?”

My temper snapped and I stood up to face
the young man Dorian had left behind to serve me. With two strides I came face
to face with him, our noses nearly touching. Harold was a tall man, for his
eyes were nearly level with my own, and his shoulders were much broader.
“Don’t test me Harold and be damned sure you don’t suggest that my feelings for
my wife or my friend are insincere or lacking in some fashion.”

He held my gaze for a second before
looking down and away. “Pardon me my Lord. It was not my place to address you
so.”

I regained my balance quickly. “Someday
it will be Harold, someday it will. I respect your honesty, but you do not
know me well enough yet.” I put a hand to his shoulder, “Help me get him out
of his clothes, they’ll be bringing in the hot water in a moment.”

His eyes widened, “Shouldn’t we let the
maids do that?”

I almost laughed but I kept a serious
face, “Hmm you may be right. I’ll ask Lisette to undress him. Perhaps she
could help bathe him as well.”

He shook his head, “No that wouldn’t be
right either.” After a few minutes we had him stripped down and ready for the
tub. Our prisoner’s eyes were open now and he seemed more awake though
whenever he tried to speak nothing but gibberish came out. Harold was looking
at the man’s right leg, which was bent and swollen. A long silver scar marked
where it had been pierced by the portcullis. “That looks bad,” he observed.

“You’re right about that,” I agreed.
“I’ll see what I can do about it. Don’t let anyone disturb me until I’m
finished.”

“How will I know when you’re done?”

“I’ll be looking around and talking to
you,” I said, giving him a wink and a smile. Harold shook his head and I knew
he wanted to comment on my being a smart ass but he held his tongue. I sat
down by the bed and closed my eyes, turning my vision inward and then shifting
my focus to the man lying on the bed beside me.

His heart was beating strongly but his
body was hot with fever. His wound was obviously infected but I wasn’t
entirely sure what to do about that. Instead I examined his leg and the
tissues around his wound carefully to see if there were any obvious problems.
His femur was broken and had begun to heal at a bad angle, next to it an
abscess had formed around something foreign.

I shifted my focus, examining the area
more closely. A small piece of stone had lodged there and the infection had
spread from there, creating a large pocket of pus and fluid around the bit of
rock. It might take a while, but eventually the infection would kill him, if
the abscess weren’t drained and the stone removed. If he survived that he
would most certainly be lamed by the badly healed bone. Luckily both problems
were things I could easily deal with.

I decided to fix the bone first.
Draining the wound would be a messy process; it could wait until after the
bath. Briefly I considered letting him feel the pain when I straightened his
bone. The man was conscious enough that the pain would be intense. After a
brief moral struggle I damped the nerve impulses from his leg and carefully
straightened the bone. An audible ‘click’ could be heard when the part that
had already begun healing came apart again and I sensed more than heard
Harold’s gasp beside me as he watched. I aligned the ends and then carefully
knitted them together. It wasn’t quite as good as it would be after a month or
two healing naturally, but the join was strong enough he would be able to walk
on it without fear. The swelling and pain from the infection would probably
make that a moot point however.