Warrior (The Key to Magic) (22 page)

"What have you got in mind?" Finaeal asked.

"Kill everyone in the house and burn it down."

"Good idea.  No witnesses.  Let's do it."

THIRTY-ONE

In the midst of walking back and forth across the room to adjust himself to the curious combination of artificial legs, new trousers, and boots custom fit to the wooden feet, Mar stopped and shook his head, certain that he had heard incorrectly.  "Sorry, could you give me that again?"

Mhiskva nodded.  "Of course, my lord king.  I would like to present a request that you officiate at my wedding."

Mar flew up from the floor a bit so that he could look at the Viceroy without having to crane his neck. 

"I didn't know you were... I mean, this is the first that I've heard... well, sorry, it just had not occurred to me that... oh, well, right."  He snapped his mouth closed to cut off this rambling and then, realizing only as he spoke that it sounded inane, asked, "Has it been a long engagement?"

"I only received an answer to my suit today, my lord king."

"Ah.  You know, for some odd reason, I didn't think that there were any female Gaaelfharenii."

Mhiskva looked blank.  "Female Gaaelfharenii, my lord king?"

"Never mind.  So who are you marrying?"

"Lady Chrynn, my lord king."

"Huh.  I was under the impression that the two of you had just met."

"That is correct, my lord king.  We met for the first time at the conference."

Mar tallied the days and then raised his eyebrows.  "A fortnight?  That was a short courtship."

"No courtship involved, my lord king.  I have familial obligations to produce heirs.  Lady Chrynn would like children.  We have come to an agreement to achieve these shared goals."

Mar allowed himself a slight smile.  He could very well imagine Mhiskva boldly storming matrimony in the very same manner that he would a fortress.  "Lyeut told me that she had seen you two walking together.  Anyway, when's the wedding?"

"Within the hour, if it is agreeable to you, my lord king."

Slightly taken aback, Mar nodded, then let his smile widen.  "Sure.  In a hurry, are you?"

"Lady Chrynn has agreed to establish a household at my ancestral holdings in Bhrisnia and to oversee the renovation of the manor house and the restoration of the fields and orchards.  She will be leaving in two days on the
City of Mhajhkaei
.  It is necessary that all of our business be concluded by then."

City of Mhajhkaei
had no magician-pilot and was full sail.  Her long trading voyage to the western coast would take at least three months.  Baring a sudden outbreak of peace, Mhiskva was unlikely to see his bride again for a very long time.

"That doesn't give you much of a, you know, a honeymoon."

"But it will remove her to the relative safety of Bhrisnia.  Like Lord Hhrahld, I have begun to experience dreams that appear prophetic in nature."

Mar's good humor instantly faded.  "Have you seen anything clearly?"

"No, my lord king, but the conviction has grown that I should take precautions to leave something of value behind."

After an extended silent moment, Mar moved on, forcing a smile.  "Where would you have the ceremony?  The throne room?"

"Lady Chrynn has indicated that she would prefer the ceremony to be simple and short, my lord king."

"Well, what about right here in my dayroom?"

"I am sure that that will be suitable."

"Alright.  What exactly am I supposed to do?"

Mhiskva pulled several folded pages from his pocket.  "I have written out the traditional Brisniarii oaths in a question and response format, with your portions underlined.  You will also need to sign the marriage registration and a letter of sanction as the liege of Clan Earalae indicating your ascent to the marriage."

Mar took the papers and glanced over them.  "I should be able to manage it."

"Thank you, my lord king.  I shall inform Lady Chrynn."  The high-captain started to turn away.

"By the way, Mhiskva," Mar told him quickly, "I'll need you to clear any appointments for tomorrow.  I'm going up to the Monolith tonight.  I have something there that I need to take a look at."

"Aye, my lord king."

Up until this moment, Mar had shunned another look into the Moon Pool.  At first, he had feared to look, not wanting its ancient magic to dictate his actions.  Later, though he could not deny that much that it had shown had come to pass, he had been certain that its failure to show his missing limbs had invalidated its version of the future.  Now, with his own magic restoring his legs and eventually replacing his arm and hand, that certainty no longer existed.  His own actions had, in an inadvertent way, perhaps returned him to the path that he had thought avoided.  He was still convinced that the future could be changed and that any vision that the Moon Pool might provide was therefore inherently suspect, but all three Gaaelfharenii were foreboding unspecified disaster and he could not simply remain idle while it approached.  He would have to look into the magical waters once again and hope that the pool would reveal what troubled the three giants' dreams.

Thinking that he should present an imperial appearance, he went to his bedroom and put on the sea-blue uniform jacket with the blood red trim that he wore over his brigandine at court.  Thus far, this was the extent of the official imperial wardrobe.

The wedding, as planned, was brief.  Both Mhiskva and Lady Chrynn presented themselves without attendants and no audience was present save for the on-duty Auxiliaries who peeked in from their room.  Neither bride nor groom opted for any sort of celebratory attire, arriving apparently in the same clothes that they had put on that morning -- Mhiskva in his usual palace uniform of trousers, boots, and the double layer wool shirt that served him as an arming doublet and Lady Chrynn in a modest blue blouse, solid shoes, and comfortable trousers.  Each replied to Mar's briefly rehearsed prompts in an efficient and nigh emotionless manner.  After Mar pronounced them bound to one another unto death under the laws of the Empire and the customs of Clan Earalae, the handsome Praaerii woman and the Mhajhkaeirii giant shook hands solemnly, expressed their thanks to him in a formal manner, and excused themselves, leaving him with the distinct impression that he had just concluded a diplomatic agreement rather than matrimony.

Right after the couple had gone, he went into the Auxiliaries room and sent Mlehn to inform Ulor to make Number One ready to leave as soon as possible.  He also dispatched Lyeut to inform Yhejia that 1) she would need to find a new tutor for Prince Davfydd, 2) that he had decided to move the entire Imperial household, specifying that he meant by that literally
everyone from cooks to guards,
to summer quarters at the Monolith, and 3) that he wanted preparations completed for the move within no more than three days.  That accomplished, he returned and sat down at his table so that he could finish going through the day's reports before he departed.

As he was storing his papers and books to make ready to leave, an urgent knock came at his doors.  Without crossing the room, he used a spell to sweep the doors open and found an agitated Phehlahm holding a courier pouch.

"An emergency message from Master Khlosb'ihs, my lord king!"

A quick spell snatched the pouch from Phehlahm's hand and sailed it to Mar's.  The first page of the missive was short and written in the shipwright's own crowded hand.

My lord king, 

Today, the regular morning courier boat from Khalar failed to arrive on schedule.  After consultation with my staff, I ordered Vice-Captain Mhygaeus and a file of marines to investigate utilizing Magician-Pilot Ihlvoh and his courier boat, which happened to be present at the time.  Currently, we have no additional magician-pilots to supply reinforcements but are rushing to complete a sailed Number One class vessel.  Within hours, Magician-Pilot Ihlvoh brought the attached report which I have sent on immediately to you.  Awaiting your wishes in this matter,

Khlosb'ihs, shipwright

Mar flipped to the second page.

Viceroy's Palace, skyship docks, some buildings burning.  General rioting and fighting in streets. Have landed in Lower City in support of besieged Guardsmen.  Will attempt to locate Viceroy and Imperial forces.

THIRTY-TWO

To make the trip as short as possible, Mar had taken the helm of Number One himself and the skyship screeched through the gathering dark at the highest speed that he had ever achieved, her every beam and plank groaning at the shuddering strain.  He had surrounded Number One with a modified flux bubble that diverted a large portion of the terrific wind, but anyone foolhardy enough to stand atop the cabin section or steerage risked being swept away.  Though Ulor had had hand lines rigged between the steerage stairs and the cabin section entrance, the short trip across the open main deck was treacherous and all who essayed it were bowled from their feet at least once.

Of course, Mar could have controlled the skyship from his cabin, but Ulor had been uncomfortable with the idea of having no one on deck while it was underway and Mar had felt obligated to join the vice-captain.  Now he sat, artificial legs -- such had been the tumultuous nature of their departure from Mhajhkaei that he had not thought to put them off -- stretched out before him.  Like the others, he was wrapped in a flannel-lined leather greatcloak that kept him moderately warm in the frigid air. 

Ulor had said that as master of the vessel, he should be the one to brave the windstorm and so had taken first watch.  The three with them, Quaestor Eishtren, who had his bow, Phehlahm, and Truhsg, had simply stayed when Ulor ordered the crew below, giving every indication that they had taken it for granted that they should do so.  The five of them were hunkered down in a tight clump just below the inadequate windscreen of the steerage deck.

Everyone else, the hundred extra legionnaires that Mar had had put aboard included, was crammed into every available space in the cabin section and the bottom deck and had been warned to be prepared for abrupt maneuvering at any time.

Though both had requested that they be allowed to accompany him, he had ordered Mhiskva and Berhl to hold fast in Mhajhkaei.  He needed dependable commanders to watch over the city while he was away, lest the monks choose to attack.

 "How fast do you think we're going, my lord king?" Ulor asked, nearly shouting to be heard over the noise of the wind.

Concentrating on the background ether in front of the skyship to watch for any unexpected obstacle and monitoring both the vital flux bubble and the lifting and driving spells of the skyship, Mar was only half aware of his immediate surroundings and was slow in answering. 

"Maybe forty leagues per hour."  He glanced over at the spring-wound clock that Ulor had had mounted to the stair riser.  "We should make the Monolith in another hour."

He had decided to stop at the settlement just long enough to speak to Master Khlosb'ihs to find out if he had heard back from Vice-Captain Mhygaeus.

Visibly shivering, Phehlahm, who sat nearest Mar, tucked his greatcloak closer about himself. "Do you think it's the Phaelle'n, my lord king?"

"Maybe, but I don't see how they could have snuck a large enough force to Khalar to raise this much mischief."

"It seems hard to believe that the Khalarii have risen in revolt," Ulor suggested.

"I'd agree with that," Truhsg, sitting between Ulor and Quaestor Eishtren, said.  "A Khalarii fugleman in Coirneal Relvhm's command told me that a lot of them believe that the King is the reborn avatar of the god Rwalkahn."

"I don't believe that they have," Mar told them.  "Whatever has happened, it isn't a revolt by the common folk of the Lower City, or the crafts workers, or the foundry people.  My guess is that it's sedition by the upper classes.  The Patriarchs have no reason to love the new Empire or the new Viceroy.  Either way, we'll know when we get there."

"There's E'hve," Phehlahm said, looking aft.  "Looks like he's bringing us some hot tea."

A sudden ripple of turbulence rocked Number One then, and Mar devoted his full attention to the skyship as he tried to strengthen the deflection of the flux bubble without causing a decrease in speed and then worked to stabilize her flight.

It took E'hve, his greatcloak fluttering frenetically, another few minutes to drag himself forward, but he had indeed brought a steaming copper storm kettle. Nodding in mute acceptance of the thanks offered by Truhsg, Ulor, and Phehlahm, he passed out mugs and began filling them.

Mar's
unease
flared.  It had been some time since this mostly unhelpful magical foreboding struck and it took him a moment to realize it for what it was.  Thinking that the premonition must refer to some danger approaching the skyship, he extended his ethereal senses to their utmost limits and allowed Number One to slow gradually in case he needed to maneuver.

E'hve reached Phehlahm, and began filling his cup.

"Thank the Forty-Nine for your kindness, sir," the ceannaire said between chattering teeth, cupping both hands around his now steaming mug.

Mar glanced at E'hve, looked away, then shot his eyes back, registering for the first time the tell-tale ethereal disturbance of a glamour.  Outwardly, the man had E'hve's face and build, but it was only a magical disguise.

"
That's not E'hve!"

At the same time as the imposter threw back his cloak and snatched a shortsword from a spring clip at his belt, Phehlahm surged to his feet, lunging to interpose his body in front of the thrusting blade.

While Mar rocketed to a standing position and the others jumped up, the false E'hve's sword pierced the marine ceannaire's chest and Phehlahm fell.   The assassin snatched the blade free and poised to strike across Phehlahm's slumping form at Mar.