Thinblade (60 page)

Regent Cery was accompanied by his court wizard Izar, General Markos, and Minister Savio. Anatoly, Jack, and Abigail were with him. Anatoly looked concerned at seeing so many guards.

“Why the increased security?” he asked.

Isabel answered before Alexander could. Anatoly had been one of his teachers and he’d learned to choose his words precisely when answering Anatoly’s questions. The old man-at-arms dealt in reality as it is. He had no time for anything else and wasn’t afraid to say what he thought, especially to Alexander and Abigail. More than that, Alexander wanted his mentor to respect him, so he always took care to be precise and accurate, which usually meant taking a moment to choose his words before answering him. Isabel had no such concerns.

“The man in black who’s been chasing us is here in the city. He was out in the square a few minutes ago so Alexander and I took a shot at him.” She reported the facts calmly and succinctly like she was addressing her commanding officer.

Anatoly stiffened a bit at the news. “I take it you didn’t hit him,” he said.

This time Alexander answered. “No. Apparently he’s a battle mage named Jataan P’Tal and he’s the General Commander of the Reishi Protectorate.”

Anatoly’s face lost a little color. More than anything else, seeing the look on Anatoly’s face at the mention of Jataan P’Tal’s name frightened Alexander.

“I know who he is,” Anatoly said. “If he’s here, then we must leave. I’ve seen the man fight. He fought in the service of Kai’Gorn during the border wars as part of an agreement to allow several operatives of the Reishi Protectorate to serve in a number of important offices in the city. I watched him wade into our forces with nothing but a sword. He killed thirty-four men in just minutes. It broke the spirit of our unit, and the commander ordered a retreat. I’ve never seen a man move so quickly or with such sudden violence. When he struck, men fell. Alexander, you can’t stay here.”

“I know,” Alexander said. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, first thing. Mage Gamaliel will be coming with us.” A bit of the tension eased from Anatoly’s face. He nodded his approval.

Alexander turned to the Regent and said, “Regent Cery, I’d like you to announce a banquet in my honor for tomorrow evening as a ruse. Cancel it at the last minute with my apologies.”

“Of course, Lord Alexander,” Regent Cery said. “I was planning a formal banquet anyway a few days from now. I’ll just move some of the preparation up a bit. There is still the matter of the council meeting. The local petty nobles will be assembling in less than an hour. I would strongly advise you to attend. Your presence will solidify your claim to the throne.”

The council meeting was about what Alexander expected, a bunch of self-important petty nobles preening and posturing for each other and for Alexander. Each of them tried to sound important without saying anything of consequence and without making any firm commitments. Alexander listened politely for about an hour while each noble pledged his support to him provided he could produce the Thinblade. It seemed that none of them believed he would be able to, so they could be gracious and offer their support while secretly thinking that they would never have to deliver on their promises. He studied their auras and remained impassive while they spoke. He didn’t call them out when they lied to him or made conditional promises he knew they had no intention of keeping. Instead, he gave them rope.

He made a mental note of every promise offered and every claim of loyalty to the Ruathan bloodline. He didn’t offer anything himself, but simply listened to their long-winded speeches that strung one word after the other without any meaning.

These men lived in a world where the meaning of words was fluid, where there were no absolutes. Everything was a matter of interpretation or opinion. Truth and fact mattered little to them. Power was their stock in trade and it was clear after the meeting that most of them didn’t care much how they acquired it. Alexander reminded himself that Phane was more than happy to play off such desires and was in a position to offer these men a great deal in exchange for their allegiance.

By the end of the meeting, he better understood Regent Cery. He was a man who simply wanted a stable and consistent world to live in, and having found others unable or unwilling to provide such a place, took it upon himself to do so for his community.

Alexander could just make out the silhouette of Blackstone Keep through the twilight when he returned to his quarters. He was comforted by the presence of a wizard and two dozen well-armed soldiers guarding the glass bridge.

Isabel and Jack had accompanied him to the meeting while the rest of his party had stayed in their quarters preparing for their journey.

Adele was waiting in the foyer when they entered. “Lord Alexander,” she said with a bow, “if you’re hungry, dinner can be served any time you like.”

Alexander suddenly realized he was famished. He smiled graciously even though he was still a bit irritable from listening to a dozen liars talk for what seemed like hours.

“Adele, that would be wonderful, I’m starving.”

She beamed. “I’ll begin at once,” she said with another bow and hurried off.

Alexander could hear the bustle of a small serving staff bringing food and dishes into the dining room as he took a chair in the sitting room with Anatoly, Lucky, and Abigail.

Abigail smiled with mischief. “How were the nobles?”

He gave her a smirk, “Less than noble.”

She chuckled, “Better you than me, Big Brother.”

Lucky cracked the shell of a nut from the bowl on the low table in the middle of the room and popped the meat of it into his mouth. “Did you learn anything?”

It was a question that Lucky had asked him countless times during his childhood. Alexander had discovered that upon reflection he could usually pinpoint some detail or element of any experience that broadened his understanding in some way or another. He thought for just a moment before nodding.

“Regent Cery is the right man for the job. None of the other petty nobles in the territory of New Ruatha can be trusted.”

Anatoly grunted, “Not surprising.”

“How’d your inspection of the military go?” Alexander asked while he fished a nut from the bowl.

“They have about ten thousand heavy cavalry, twenty thousand infantry, and another twenty thousand archers. They’re well trained and organized. General Markos is a good commanding officer. His men respect him and he knows his business. Precious few have any battle experience and their equipment is a bit old and worn, but all in all, they’ll be a good addition to our forces. I’d like a little time to train them and improve their equipment before sending them into a fight, though.” True to form, Anatoly delivered his report succinctly and clearly, without embellishment.

Abigail picked up when he stopped. “I was impressed by their archers. They have a larger bow than I’ve ever used. It’s no good for riding, but on foot it can send an arrow about twice as far as my bow with three times the force. The thing stands a few inches taller than me and the arrows they use are a good six inches longer than the ones we’re used to.”

“Huh, that could be useful. Are the raw materials to make more readily available?” Alexander asked.

“Yep,” she said. “We walked through the trees they use to make them in the northern edge of the forest. I talked to the head bowyer, and he said he could make a thousand a month if he had a hundred men to help him.”

“Good, the more the better. I’ll talk to the Regent and ask him to make the arrangements to start stockpiling weapons.”

Alexander turned his attention to Jack. “How’d it go with your bards?”

“Quite well, actually, they took to the lyrics and music quickly and with enthusiasm. I guess it’s to be expected given that this is the biggest story to be told in millennia. I also told them about the wanted posters. Those will be discredited and torn down by week’s end,” Jack said confidently.

“Sounds like we’ve accomplished everything we needed to. If we can just lose Commander P’Tal, we’ll be in good shape,” Alexander mused.

Adele entered tentatively. “Lord Alexander, dinner is served.”

Alexander and Lucky stood in unison, both with a smile.

“Thank you, Adele. It smells wonderful, even from here.”

They enjoyed a leisurely meal while they discussed strategy and politics. Alexander knew he could win some of the territories over for a time without the Thinblade, but he would need the ancient badge of office that the magical sword represented if he was going to have any chance of uniting the whole island of Ruatha. That meant Blackstone Keep. He started to feel anxious to be on the road again. He felt safe enough here with the heavy guard and the palace secured against any unfamiliar visitors, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the enemy attacked. When they did, there would be death. The best way to prevent that was to deprive them of their target.

After dinner, he walked Isabel to her room and kissed her goodnight. They shared a look of longing and desire. They had agreed to wait until they were married, but sometimes they both regretted that decision.

Alexander looked into her eyes for a long moment. “We’ll have all the time in the world,” he whispered before kissing her on the forehead.

Her hand slipped from his as he turned and willed himself to put one foot in front of the other. He dared not look back. Once he was in his room, he closed the door and leaned against it like he was holding it shut against an irresistible force.

Chapter 50

He sat down to meditate for a few minutes before bed. He’d decided that he needed to explore the magic available to him more fully. He put a heavy pillow on the floor and got comfortable, sitting cross-legged with his back straight, hands folded in his lap, and eyes closed in the dim candlelight of his sitting room.

He began the deep breathing that Mason had taught him and allowed the tension and stress to drain away. Once he was relaxed, he began the process of quieting his mind. As each thought, worry, or concern intruded, he recognized it, observed it without emotion for a moment, and then dismissed it. Soon his mind was quiet. He drifted in the simple peace of meditation for a time and then found himself adrift in the firmament. He had no location, no point of awareness, and no form. He was one with all.

At first, he felt overwhelming confusion at the cacophony of thoughts and events that inundated him. It felt like the whole of reality was taking place within the theatre of his mind. It was far more than he could see, hear, or understand at one time, so he just observed. He took the mindset of the witness. There was no involvement, no attachment, no emotion, only awareness.

Gradually the flurry of the countless events occurring everywhere at once faded into the background. He started to see the firmament as a whole. A great, living, breathing, dynamic ocean of potential with a wave moving through it that manifested the present moment where it crested. It was constantly moving, shifting, and changing. And it was beautiful, not so much for what it was itself, but for the moment of now that it created and all of the beauty, love, and life that took place in that one precious moment.

Alexander simply observed for a while. His awareness floated on the firmament like an oil slick spread impossibly thin across the whole ocean of potential. The crest of the wave faded into a background music of impossible complexity and beauty. It made his heart soar with the possibilities it represented. And then, quite suddenly, he felt a jolt of fear. Was this the rapture he’d been warned about? Had he lost himself to the endless potential of the firmament?

His awareness slammed back into his body with such force that he lost his balance on the cushion. He stood and paced for a few minutes, trying to remember every detail of the experience. Then he thought of his journal and spent the next several minutes writing. He wasn’t sure what value the experience represented but he knew with certainty that he had accessed the firmament.

After giving it some thought, he sat down again and tried to repeat the process. This time it was easier. Only five or ten minutes passed before he again found himself drifting pleasantly in the limitless ocean of potential. This time he had an objective: Phane.

Alexander’s awareness was all encompassing and spread out across the firmament. At the moment he focused on Phane, he felt impossible motion and a sensation of shrinking. His point of focus went from the impossibly large to a single point on the crest of the wave that was reality.

He was floating high in the air above the central square of a large city. Fires burned everywhere. Soldiers moved in squads from door to door, dragging the inhabitants out into the street and setting their homes ablaze. He could hear cries of desperation from the victims and righteous shouts of command from the soldiers.

He looked around for Phane. The Reishi Prince was standing on top of a flat-topped pyramid in the center of the giant flagstone square in the middle of the city. On either side of him stood a creature that made Alexander shudder with fear and disbelief. Each had two arms and two legs and a head like a man but that was where the similarities ended. The creatures stood eight feet tall, were exquisitely muscled, and had skin that was a smooth shiny black like obsidian or the surface of oil. Their faces were without eyes, nose, or mouth. Instead, they simply had indentations where their eyes and mouths should have been and bumps where their noses should have been. They had no hair or genitals. Their knees were those of a canine and their large feet were those of a raptor. They had oversized hands, and each of their six fingers ended in a three-inch-long, razor-sharp talon. Alexander could see the darkness of their auras and knew at a glance that they were from the netherworld.