The Archmage Unbound (4 page)

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Authors: Michael G. Manning

Tags: #fantasy, #wizard, #sorcery, #epic, #magic

BOOK: The Archmage Unbound
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She blushed and gave me a look that told
me I’d pay for embarrassing her, but it was a pleasant look. “What were you
doing that was so important it kept you and Dorian from coming to dinner on
time?” she said, changing the subject deftly. “Lady Rose was most disappointed
when he wasn’t here at the start.”

Rose Hightower happened to be sitting
next to her when she said that and she shot Penny a warning glance. “I was
merely concerned,” she said, dabbing at her lips with a hand towel.

Dorian spoke up then, “Forgive me for
worrying you lady, I was merely educating my good friend the Count as to the
particulars of the armorer’s craft.” As usual he seemed completely oblivious.
I was beginning to doubt he would ever realize his love wasn’t unrequited… then
again perhaps he kept himself in the dark on purpose. If he ever admitted to
himself that she felt as he did he might be forced to do something about it.
That was probably a more terrifying possibility for him than facing the army of
Gododdin had been.

“Armorer’s craft?” Rose said, lifting
one eyebrow in an artful expression of surprise. “Is the good Count planning
another war so soon?” As she spoke I watched her carefully, despite her
conversational skills her eyes lingered on Dorian much longer than they did
anywhere else.

“Stop that Rose, and you as well
Dorian. I’ve told you both to call me by my name. This isn’t some state
function, it’s dinner, and this is my home,” I said.

Dorian chuckled; they both loved teasing
me with my newfound station. “Careful Rose, we mustn’t offend our kind host,”
he said in mock seriousness.

“Very true Dorian! Please forgive us
Mordecai,” Rose responded, joining him in the game. As she spoke she put her
hand lightly across his forearm. It was a small gesture, one intended to
emphasize her words, but I would have bet a pound of gold he’d never move that
arm so long as her hand rested there. She probably knew it too. Women are
devious.

I sighed, pretending to be annoyed so
they could continue their game. “Could I get some wine?” I spoke loudly
enough for the man passing behind to hear, for I assumed he was one of the
serving staff. Yes, I do have serving staff now… not to mention hiring a full
time messenger. Whoever it was ignored my request and continued on, passing
through the doorway that led to the kitchen. “That’s odd,” I said to Penny,
“Did I speak too softly?” I hadn’t bothered to turn my head so I wasn’t
entirely sure who had ignored me.

She smiled at me, “It might help if
there had been a servant near enough to hear you.”

“There was!” I protested, “A tall
fellow, almost my own height.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken this time
Mort. No one has gone by for a minute or more, but I think I see one of the
maids coming now…” She lifted her hand and waved one of our servers over,
Lisette was her name I thought. She quickly hurried off to fetch a cup and
some wine for me.

I frowned and closed my mouth. In point
of fact I hadn’t actually looked around but I was so accustomed to using my
‘extra’ senses that I hadn’t needed to do so. I was quite certain a man had
passed by, even if Penny hadn’t noticed him. There was little point in arguing
though; in any case the wine was coming so I had nothing to complain about.

“Mordecai, you never did answer my
question,” Rose reminded me.

I was startled from my thoughts,
“About?” It took me a moment before I remembered. “Oh, the armor!” I
exclaimed. “I’d rather not talk about it here. I’d like to keep the details
quiet until I’m ready to announce the plans. Perhaps we can discuss it later?”

“Ooh a mystery!” Rose replied with a
twinkle in her eyes.

“It isn’t anything that exciting, trust
me,” Penny assured her. “Of much more interest would be the topic of your
visit with Cyhan today. You still have not told me how it went.”

Apparently Penny was not alone in her
curiosity, for everyone leaned closer. I took a deep breath, hoping to finish
the tale in one go rather than have to repeat myself. “It went about as well
as can be expected. He and I agreed to disagree.”

Rose broke in, “That sounds remarkably
civilized when the disagreement was over whether you have the right to continue
breathing.” The humor in her voice was gone now. Rose had been quite angry
about Cyhan’s decision to end our working relationship so violently. I wasn’t
quite sure if it was because he had hurt Penny in the process or the fact that
he might have killed Dorian in his attempt to get to me.

Dorian laid a hand on her shoulder, as
if to calm her down. The gesture made the two of them seem very familiar;
although I’m sure he didn’t realize it. “Rose, he may be our enemy now but to
give the man credit he was only acting according to his oath and his
principles.” I couldn’t help but wonder that just an hour or two prior he had
been chiding me for letting my enemy walk free yet now Dorian was defending the
man.

Rose gave him a sharp glance, “Honor be
damned! He turned his sword against his student and his friend,” she said,
looking at Penny and me each in turn, “and against you.” She punctuated the
end of her sentence by jabbing Dorian firmly in the chest. “Any oath that
requires such a thing needs to be re-examined. Blind obedience is the refuge
of a fool too scared to think for himself!”

Penny’s face was a study in conflicting
emotions but she put her feelings away and tried to steer the conversation back
to practical matters. “All those things aside, what did you do Mort?”

“I sent him back to the king with a
message,” I replied simply.

“A damn foolish thing to do,” Dorian
supplied.

Rose snorted, “We agree on that at
least.”

“You’re probably right, but I wouldn’t
have the man executed for doing his duty,” I answered.

Dorian grimaced, “His duty will see you
dead and he should not be taken lightly. I can respect his decision but when
you have a sworn foe in your grasp you don’t hand him a dagger and turn him
loose.”

“What message did you send him with?”
Rose asked quietly.

“The king has asked me to meet with him,
privately. I changed the time and place and sent the information along with
Cyhan,” I said.

Penny looked at me sharply, “You said
you weren’t going.” She kept her voice level but there was a certain amount of
worry in it.

“I changed my mind. I’m still not going
to meet him at the time and place of his choosing; rather I’ll meet him on my
own terms.”

“That’s wise, since it’s even odds your
meeting would be an ambush. Getting rid of you would solve a lot of the King’s
problems at one go. Where do you intend to meet him?” Rose asked intently.

I smiled, “In his bedroom.”

“Somehow I doubt his majesty will agree
to that,” Dorian observed.

“He won’t be given the option to
decline,” Penny snapped at him impatiently. The tension in her shoulders was
unmistakable. “Are you sure this is wise? This isn’t what we discussed
earlier.” She and I had gone over the topic the night before and now I had
changed the plan.

To give her credit, my wife is no
shrinking violet. I had come to respect her as a woman of courage and
determination, but she was sometimes a bit timid when it came to risking my
health. I suppose that made some sense, considering she was expecting our
first child. I glanced down at her already swelling waist. Looking up again I
met her eyes, “I’m sorry love. I know you’re worried, but I have to clear
things between myself and the king or we’ll never have peace. I think this is
the only chance we’ll have.”

She saw the look in my eye and knew
there was little sense in arguing. “You’d best be right, or I’ll make sure you
spend whatever’s left of your life regretting it.” It was no idle threat
coming from her.

“Our child will have a father,” I
assured her. Penny’s determination was possibly one of her most beautiful
qualities.

“A surprise meeting will introduce a
certain amount of tension into your discussion. Are you sure that’s what you
want?” Rose asked, breaking into the conversation again.

“Absolutely,” I stated. “Edward needs
to understand that I’m negotiating from a position of strength or he’ll never
respect any bargain we make.”

The discussion went on for a solid hour
after that, but I had already made up my mind. When all was said and done, no
one liked my decision but there weren’t any better suggestions made. Only the
future would tell whether it was a good idea or not.

Chapter 3

The next morning I decided to take a
break from my usual routine. Rather than head to the forge and resume work on
my next bit of armor crafting I went looking for my other childhood friend.
Thanks to Dorian I had paid better attention at dinner the night before and
managed to notice a notable absence at the table.

I wondered how many other meals Marc had
missed without me bothering to ask about him. Times like this made me realize
that I wasn’t exactly the best friend a fellow could have. Sure, I had plenty
of excuses… a new wife, a county to run, but I still couldn’t allow myself that
luxury. Excuses would always be plentiful, true friends were not.

I didn’t see Marc at breakfast so I
headed for the room he had been staying in. Pausing at the door I listened for
a moment. I heard nothing and my other senses told me that my friend was
inside, alone but awake. I had almost hoped he would have a ‘companion’ with
him… that would have done much to allay my worries. It really wasn’t natural
for him to spend so much time alone; Marc had always been a highly social
animal. I knocked on the door and waited.

There was no response though with my
ability I could sense him pouring another drink from a bottle. I could only
assume it was wine. I knocked again and spoke loudly, “Marc it’s me, open
up!” He chose not to answer and instead slumped over as if he were sleeping.
He knew I could sense him through the door. “That’s not going to work,” I
yelled at the wooden door, “I already know you’re awake.”

“Go away!” came a muffled response from
within.

I’d had enough so with a word I unlocked
the door and opened it. Marc was sitting on the divan across the room, staring
bleakly at me as I entered. He was holding the wine bottle in a curious
fashion in one hand. “What are you planning to do with that?” I asked.

“I was giving serious consideration to
the thought of tossing it at you,” he said dryly, “but then I decided it would
be a waste of good wine.” He changed his grip on the bottle and turned it up,
taking a long swallow directly from the bottle.

“You look like shit,” I volunteered.

“Thanks,” he replied. “That means a lot
to me… coming from you.” His tone was surly and I could tell he was ready for
a fight.

“If that’s your idea of witty repartee
you really are drunk.”

“Not yet, I just woke up. Give me an
hour,” he said.

“Why don’t you give the wine a rest
today and help me with some planning?” I suggested. It was actually a
half-truth. While I wouldn’t have minded having my friend’s advice on my near
future plans I obviously wanted even more to snap him out of his dark mood.

“I’ve got a better idea Mort!” He sat
up suddenly, as if filled with energy and enthusiasm. “Why don’t you go make
your plans, and leave me alone? That way you’ll get better plans and I won’t
have to listen to your bullshit!” He lifted his bottle again and started to
take another long draught of wine.

“If you’re going to be a sarcastic ass
you might as well do it sober,” I replied and before he could react I deftly
slipped the bottle from his hand. Ordinarily his reflexes were so quick I’d
never have managed to do it… but a lot of hard drinking had made him slow.

“You ass!” He was too slow to catch the
bottle but planting his hands in my chest he gave me a hard shove. I fell
backward over a small table and landed on the floor. Marc leaned forward and
started to take the bottle back but I planted a foot in his chest and sent him
flying across the room. He bounced off the corner post of the bed and crashed
into the dressing table. “Bastard! You’ll regret that!” he shouted at me and
snatched up a clay water pitcher as it started to fall.

Even hung over and strung out as he was
I had to admire his dexterity at the catch… till he chose to fling said pitcher
at my head. The motion caught me off guard and I failed to duck. Thankfully
the shield I still habitually kept around myself prevented me from getting a cracked
skull. “Hey! You could have seriously hurt someone like that!” Having fought
a few times as children we both knew there was an unspoken rule against
throwing heavy objects… or doing anything else potentially permanent.

“As if I could hurt you! You and your
stupid shield… why don’t you take that thing off and fight like a real man?” he
challenged.

“Fine!” I yelled back. “You could use a
good thrashing. Did it ever occur to you that your family might be worried
about you?” As I spoke I dropped my shield, though there was no visible sign
of it.

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