Highmage (Highmage's Plight Book 4) Page 12

  "He will be here...” Se’and replied. “Fate, at least, will see to that."

  "How can I love him so?"

  How can I answer that? "Go back to sleep, Fri'il." Better dreams than the reality to be faced.

  The old man sat in the courtyard of a partial ruin of a once great house in the Seventh Tier. Destiny haunted this place. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the somewhat fetid air. Behind his gaze this city danced in flames at the Dark One's will. "No," the old man muttered. "That was the one I dreamed—the one Alrex set asunder. Glad enough to see this place is similar, but different.”

  Conking his head, he chuckled. "Alrex, you were able to mar destiny's plans. But in bringing this George Bradley to our world, you have somehow set the oldest prophecies to rights, and others to new paths. Oh, how He must hate so many plans foiled…. Thank you, Alrex, for giving my children another chance."

  'NO,' whispered the sudden crack of thunder.

  Looking to the darkening storm clouds, the old man laughed. "All your plots will come to naught… My children will regain that which was lost and our children together shall have ships which will one day ply the skies!"

  'NEVER!'

  It began to hail.

  The old man laughed as he hurried under the house’s eaves, feeling the Conclave drawing to an end.

  The Empress rose as the chamber filled with chaotic shouts and cries. Ever so softly, she said. "There shall be no tie!"

  Regis stared as the Empress sang out. There was a flash of light. In the next moment all anyone could see was light, blues: greens, violets, cyan, orange, yellows, and colors the human eyes is unable to describe.

  When sight returned all could see that Grendel's column lay shattered and the human mage's brimmed. The Empress looked at her incredulous cousins. "Now is a time for unity. Remember your oaths! The Empire has its Highmage! Together we have made this choice!"

  Regis stared, then proclaimed, "The Conclave stands concluded."

  "NO!" shouted Grendel. "This is a farce! It is I who am Highmage not that—that human pretender! Empress, you shall rue this treachery!"

  The chamber quaked as he vanished from their midst.

  Lord Hayden and Archmage Kolter glared at their monarch and the new Highmage.

  The Guild Hall emptied far too quickly as Abernathy and others gave a bow before being nearly the last to leave.

  George turned to Revit and Terus, “Leave us.”

  The boys turned and vanished.

  “Empress.”

  “Highmage.”

  “I suppose I should thank you.”

  She frowned, “Thank me? I do not think you appreciate what I have done…”

  “You elected me to Highmage – so I’ll have access to the Gate.”

  Shaking her head, “Can you be so ignorant? I’ve made a man Highmage, so I shouldn’t be surprised… Je’orj du Bradlei… You need me to gain access to the Gate… Perhaps it’s better to say, I am the doorway – you are now the key.”

  :George, I don’t like the sound of this.:

  “I’m not certain, I understand, Your Majesty.”

  “You are now my consort,” she said, wincing. “But I must admit, better you than Grendel…” She turned away, muttering, “We will discuss details later. Forgive me, but I am too tired to deal with this now.”

  As he watched the elvin Empress march away, he mumbled, “Alrex, if you were alive, I’d kill you.”

  Part II: Highmage in Waiting

  Chapter

  17

  “Your Majesty, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Herald Varian said. “But a matter of state has come to our attention.”

  Her Imperial Majesty was not sorry for the interruption at all. The members of Court, however, were less than pleased. “Excuse me, lords and ladies.”

  “Master Stenh, the Academy’s supporting this… this upstart Highmage… makes it clear that this is no place for my son.”

  “Donnialt, you don’t understand what kind of pressure I’m under, I… I can no longer continue on staff here. A number of my apprentices, their families have asked for me to take on their studies full-time.”

  Stenh’s response to such parents, “Your son will always be welcome in this Hall, which shall always uphold our charter to defend the Empire and obey the Highmage, who has ever led us.”

  Donnialt’s response, “Go then and have your apprentices that are in need of a new master report to me immediately.”

  “Master Stenh, my family has asked that I come home… I know I’m new to journeyman rank, but… they’ve good reason to be afraid. I’ve got to go.”

  The head of the Imperial Mage Academy merely nodded and replied, “I understand. Ward yourself carefully, the Tiers are proving rather dangerous these days for the unwary.”

  Over the next week the Imperial Mage Academy began to look rather empty. Over half the masters had left, a number more were still considering leaving just barely were swayed into staying for the time being.

  Of the students only about a third remained, including Rexil, whose master, Deylon, looked at him and turned to whisper to Master Donnialt, who then glanced at him appraisingly. “Rexil, lad, join us a moment.”

  “Uh, Masters…” he said with a nod, a worried look on his face.

  The Dean of Students said, “Lad, you’ve our trust, you know that.”

  “Yes, Master… of course.”

  “Good, then can you use that back door we’re not supposed to know about and get a message out for us.”

  Eyes wide, Rexil muttered, “Back door.”

  Master Deylon smiled. “Yes, the one Revit and Terus apparently created when they blew up the garden.”

  “Oh, uh, that one.”

  “Yes, the one you’ve been slipping through to buy candies to sell to your classmates.”

  “Me, Sir? Oh, you must have me, uh, confused with, um, someone else.”

  Master Donnialt grinned, “I’ve been, uh, getting chocolate second-hand for over a year. Master Stenh does appreciate an enterprising apprentice, you know.”

  Heart racing, Rexil decided truth was best, “A fella’s got to make a living, Master.”

  “Definitely solid journeyman material,” Donnialt said to his master, who nodded. “Now come by my office after dinner, I’ll have a letter for you to deliver, then.”

  Rexil nodded.

  “And don’t tell anyone, we’re not quite sure who’s still friendly in these halls; and if going out alone, you’ll need every subtle warding we can endow you with.”

  Master Stenh stared at him. “So you found someone appropriate.”

  Donnialt nodded, seeing the carefully folded missive in the shape of a flower petal. The ward symbols were carefully hidden from sight… mundane or otherwise. “Stenh, you certain you want to do this?”

  “No, but we can’t exactly support the wards without sufficient students and masters. As it is we’ve effectively retreated Underhill.”

  “Only until this mess blows over.”

  “The Highmage needs our help, Donny.”

  “The Empress needs it more… and we’re going to have to expedite our training, which means playing an Inner Circle secret.”

  “What you are talking about is could get us all killed, Stenh.”

  “Perhaps… but if it works as it should we’ll have the time we need and the most defensible position imaginable.”

  “So we will get us a new crop of students… that no one else really wants.”

  Stenh nodded, “Which means we’ll need new masters that no one else really wants, either.”

  “Stenh, there’s only one real option… one person who could help but he’s otherwise occupied.”

  “Now, Donny, I’m not considering even begging a moment of the new Highmage’s time… What we need are… some human mages added to the staff.”

  “That’s practically worse than seeking Faeryn instructors even if there were any more.”

  “There soon will be… at le
ast from our students’ perspective. And let’s hope we’ll have journeymen aplenty to help the Empire in these turbulent days ahead.”

  The Empress sat before her most trusted advisors as the Imperial Mistress of the Scrying Guild. “Say that again.”

  “We’re blind again to the Northlands, but were able to glimpse Fenn du Blain under a flag of truce approaching Gwire.”

  “No good will come of that,” the regimental legion commander said. “He’s taken half the Crescent. Only the Southern Alliance is holding back further incursions.”

  “He’s made no further attempts at taking the Keep of Niota,” she replied, following those reports keenly.

  “No, the Lyai’s reinforcement and the, uh, ogres on hand are able enough. Apparently the new Lord Niota is quite formidable and that is likely another factor in changing the course of his attentions.”

  The old mistress of scryers added, “The Lord Niota’s lady wife, Amira, is a powerful scryer. She has formed a new circle there. There are no troop movements in that section of the border or the Crescent that we do not see.”

  “Yet, your guild is blind to much that is going on here in Empire and

  elsewhere,” the Empress replied.

  “We’ve a great many wards and occluding spells to deal with, Your Majesty,” the Mistress of Scryers replied.

  “Would that we had more powerful scryers as in the days of old,” the Empress said. “If wishes were horses, we’d have battle steeds… So, what do you advise Commander?”

  “We need to move more legionnaires out of the capital and to the border,” he answered as Herald Varian winced.

  “Leaving us defenseless,” the Empress said.

  “The troops will do us no good if the borderlands fall,” the commander advised.

  “We’ve two full legions in the borderlands,” she replied.

  “Better we have three,” the command replied. “Fenn will invade Gwire and our treaty with Gwire will demand our wrath.”

  Herald Varian uttered not a word. He would share his thoughts in private as the Empress’s new personal herald. Only the threat of Imperial reprisal for an invasion stood between Fenn’s foolishness and the attack that would likely soon follow out of the Demon ruled lands beyond.

  The Empress glanced at him. He knew what he would advise. Keep the legion here. But would she?

  She peered into the still water of the bowl as her elflord husband paced and said, “They should have been back by now.”

  “Lee, I’m trying to concentrate,” the Lady Esperanza replied.

  “Grendel’s back. The Empress is back, what’s taking him so long?”

  “He’s only human… The Guild’s wards were bound to have some odd effect on him and Terhun told you it has any number of times.”

  “By now the entire Empire knows he’s been elected.”

  “The Scrying Network is still compromised to the west and south, so it will likely take the Imperial Post a few days more to reach everyone.”

  “And what’s Her Majesty doing? Only arguing endlessly with the Courts.”

  Esperanza shook her head, “Actually, I caught a glimpse of her sending much of her First Legion toward the northern border.”

  He winced. “She should have ordered troops back rather than be worried about Fenn du Blain’s activities in the Borderlands.”

  “Lee, if your cousin feels the Empire requires them, that is where they belong… but that doesn’t mean you can’t do anything to help.”

  “What?”

  “Can you spare any of detachments of your Second Legion?”

  He blinked, wishing he could be calling on Terhun. Where might he spare a detachment assigned to his province?

  The young elvin lady smiled and turned back to the waters, which soon rippled and opened to her scrying sight – sight far stronger than any other Imperial Scryer in the capital.

  The dark robed pair checked out the old ruin of a house in the Seventh Tier. “This wing is a total loss,” one remarked.

  “The main house and the west wing look solid, even some furniture left.”

  The old man came up behind them, “Looking to buy?”

  They drew daggers instantly as they turned to face him, “Where did you come from?”

  “Ah, Ladies, that is quite a tale,” he said, leaning on his cane, which he tapped on the floor. “Let’s just say, this broken down house is yours for the asking, and leave it at that.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Wrong with it? Hmm, it has a bad reputation… Some claim it’s haunted. Perhaps it’s best if you make certain it maintains that reputation, eh?”

  The pair frowned.

  With a sigh he said, “The place was cursed by a Cathartan Mother Shaman about four hundred years ago… if I recall correctly. Who knows anymore?” he muttered to himself. Then he perked up, “Let’s see, the Mother Shaman said… only my sisters will know peace here.” He smiled, “Nice woman, but black didn’t do anything for her. Come to think of it the young lady with green eyes said to tell you the bonded houses can really use all the help they can get.” He hooted, “Hell of thing to suddenly remember that.”

  “You’re not an elfblood,” the older of the pair said, returning her dagger to its sheath. “How old are you, anyway?”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He half turned,

  “Welcome to the neighborhood… Oh, the cellars are quite extensive, you can hide, practically an army down there,” he shouted behind him.

  “He’s crazy… isn’t he?”

  “He quoted Lady Grin. Or didn’t you study the House Chronicles?”

  The young woman’s eyes widened. “Well, I guess… this place will really be haunted.”

  Esperanza frowned staring into the bowl of water as a breeze coming through the townhouse’s window suddenly picked up. Her eyes went wide, “Lee! Send the signal to Verny he’s to get that carriage to the main entrance to the Guild Hall now.”

  He rushed to the door and called down, time to raise that new made banner outside.

  “Yes, Milord Lyai!” a servant went running.

  No spell would ripple along the city wards. This signal was simple enough. Not long after his banner fluttered in the wind, but another new banner went up down the Tier at a merchant house abutting the Dwarven Quarter.

  Soon a dwarven washerwoman could be seen taking laundry from the next Tier.

  Another dwarf watched from a tower window, called down and two men left a tavern singing a ribald song, and so it went until Spiro was called to the estate wall. “What now?”

  Tett came racing down. “Get Verny, we got the signal.”

  “I hope Lord Je’orj, I mean the Highmage, will like the new coach.”

  Verny spent almost as much time in the barn as he did accompanying the Lady Se’and across the Tiers since the announcement that the Conclave had concluded. Terhun had made it clear that he was assigned to Je’orj’s household. But Verny had actually volunteered.

  Je’orj’s rather large mare watched Verny as he asked, “How are you today, My Lady.”

  He received a whinny in reply.

  There were two other large mounts that had come with the formerly thought of merchant Jeo d’Aere, whom Verny and his Imperial Agent boss, Terhun, had accompanied from the capital of the province of

  Lyai. “You’re looking rather pleased with yourself.”

  The mare canted her head.

  “What do you know that I don’t?”

  Then he heard Spiro’s shout as he ran out of breath to the entrance to the barn, “There you are… It’s time!”

  Verny glanced at the mare, who nodded her head as Spiro frowned, “What? That monstrous horse volunteering to pull the coach, or something?”

  The mare nickered back.

  Sighing, Verny replied, “I think she said, she’d be honored.”

  The dwarf frowned, then grinned, “They get her harnessed! Je’orj will be home soon!”

  J
uels felt faint and suddenly leaned against the wall.

  “Are you all right?” Andre said, grabbing her arm.

  The world swam around her from a moment. Breathing hard, she muttered, “I’m fine.”

  Andre’s frowned. “I’ll be right back. I’ll get Master Balfour.”

  Downstairs Fri’il suddenly cried out, and Cle’or shouted up the stairs, “Get, Bal, Fri’il’s water’s broken!”

  Juels waved her away. “I’m fine. Go get help for Fri’il.”

  Andre shook her head, then turned and ran back down the hall, yelling, “Master Balfour! Master Balfour!”

  Juels sighed, “Oh, hell, I’m going to need a lot more luck…”

  Gallen stood in front of the couch as Aaprin climbed in after Revit and Terus, making sure they stayed out of trouble. Mounted Imperial soldiers surrounded them as both guards and escort.

  The large horse harnessed to the coach, glanced back as the driver looked about warily. The Guild Hall entrance flowed and a pale falc with a black crest flew out, beating upward before circling.

  Moments later, staff in hand, Lord Je’orj, now Highmage Je’orj, Gallen reminded herself, strode across the ward followed by a two Imperial guardsmen, bane swords strapped to their sides. “Hello, Verny,” George said.

  “Milord, uh, Highmage, welcome back.”

  He paused. “How long were we gone this time?

  Clearing his throat, the Imperial agent disguised as simple coachman said, “Two months, six days.”

  George’s eyes widened in shock. “Get us back home as quickly as you can.”

  Raven flew ahead, looking for any sign of treachery as the coach hurried down the streets across the Tier. :George…: staff said, flaring to life.

  The apprentices crowded around him, then edged back in the seats in surprise as their master muttered, “What’s wrong?”

  ‘Fri’il’s giving birth and something’s wrong.’

  “Bal!” George mind shouted.

  Verny held on for dear life, the mounted Imperial Guards spurring their horses to catch up as Lord Je’orj’s rather large mare ran full out drawing the coach behind it. The occupants yelled or screamed, as the impulse took them as the coach teetered taking a turn down the thankfully already cleared lane. However, the Imperial guards who were maintaining the perimeter still had to dive out of the way as the vehicle burst past them.