Chapter 3: Twisted Paths Chapter 5: Secrets in the Storm
Chapter 4: Sly Tongues Aplenty
Pent’s company continued winding its way through the mountains between Etruria and Lycia, fighting off the occasional bandit attack. They hadn’t seen any soldiers since they had fought Lord Blier. Ceniro found the farseer extraordinarily useful and would hardly put it down, although he nearly learned the hard way not to rely on it wholly as a substitute for eyes when he himself was attacked by a bandit whom he had thought further away than he was. Other than that slight slip, his tasks were much easier and even more successful than they had been, though he attributed that in part to the fact that bandits were disorganized and stupid.
When Pent spoke to Castle Wrigley, Erk and Louise both told him they were fine. Erk was nearly finished reading his “General Compositional Theory of Anima Magic: Volume 3”, and was incorporating what he had learned into his Fire spell, and was looking forward to the discussion of Thunder in Volume 4. Louise did not say too much, but did show him a lopsided brown rabbit she had embroidered on a pillow.
Douglas was still in contact, though barely – the magic of the staff was wearing thin. He had disturbing news.
“I think there is another spider in this web, Pent. I don’t know who for certain, yet, but several people have been acting strangely.”
“Not on orders from Blier, Arcard, or Ocery?”
“No. Blier is gone, of course, but Arcard has been staying out of it and the signs are too subtle for Ocery. Aldash, though, has been sneaking around. My people have spotted him apparently making deals with Lord Eshan.”
“Eshan!?” Pent cried. “That’s very disconcerting.”
“He’s also been talking to Lesil, though that may be unconnected with this affair. Lesil does have business in Faria at present, the county next door to Reglay, where Aldash has relatives.”
Pent sighed. “The question – does this plot reach further than it appears on the surface, or are we dragging too many names into the mix?”
Douglas nodded. “I would personally suspect that we have not found out half of what is going on.”
“Magic jewels can do that,” Pent agreed wearily.
“The most worrying part is that my knight Rhost occasionally has this funny look on his face, and he’s been jumpy. He’s still true to me and to his knighthood, and he hasn’t gotten short of temper yet, so I will continue to trust him, but I do think someone has approached him for information and he doesn’t want to let me know.”
“I see…”
“How close are you to finding the jewel? I can’t say how glad I will be to have this all over with.”
“Unfortunately, I still don’t know where it is. I think we’ve been getting closer – the last two villages told us it was rumoured to be either blue or purple; they weren’t quite sure on that account. One says one, and the other says another, you know. There haven’t been any villages around for the last couple days, though, only thieves and highwaymen.”
Douglas shook his head. “I hope you make it safely, Pent. Good luck to you.”
“Thank you, for all you have done, Douglas. We’ll speak again soon.”
Lord Lesil glared at Aldash, a man with white-blonde hair and dark blue eyes, dressed in purple silk and red armour. “I don’t see why this visit is necessary. It’s a pretty little pigsty, nothing more. It could be taken within an hour at most.”
“Nevertheless, you must visit again tomorrow after your negotiations are concluded with Faria. I leave for the south in an hour. I don’t have time to discuss this, Lesil. It must be spied out to make a probability a certainty. The country is rich, yes? If you want it-“
“I don’t want that frilly flower-garden of a county. You know what I want.”
“Yes, well, if you want it, you will do as Lord Eshan wishes. Once you have obtained it, your business will be concluded and I shall trouble you no more.”
“I hope to heaven that we may move soon, then,” Lesil muttered, watching Aldash leave Lesil’s castle and mount his horse. One of Aldash’s attendants released a pigeon and Lesil watched it flap away, wondering what news it brought and if it were to Eshan or Arcard or a third, more secret master.
Ceniro pulled his cloak tighter around himself and his hood lower, fumbling with the fastenings with numbed fingers. It was raining heavily, a steady cold rain from the west. Pent and Fiora didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all, a fact that earned them more respect from the tactician. Albert, the monk from Kafti, on the other hand, was greatly irritated by the rain, though he was determined not to show it and trudged along grimly.
“Whoa! Frank! Help! Someone, help my brother!” Someone was calling urgently from around a bend in the path.
Pent, in the lead, sped up. At a wave from Ceniro, Fiora and her pegasus leaped lightly over him and to the top of a crag. “Cavaliers,” she called back. “Two of them. Attacked by bandits. Do we assist?”
“Of course!” Pent cried, picking his way along the slippery path as fast as he could. Ceniro ran, nearly fell, picked himself up, and joined Pent. Albert, still determined not to show his weakness, joined him a moment later. Priscilla was nearly last, but Caddie stayed back to help her and the horses along.
“Fiora, they have a shaman on the bump just beyond the cavaliers. Please take him out. Pent, Cavven, George, Albert, assist the cavaliers. Get between them and the bandits. Cavven, take the axe-man on the left. Albert, George, attack the swordfighter on the right.” Pent was using fire spells. His tactician wondered if thunder spells might be more effective in the rain, but then realized they might be too effective and harm his own side, though he had absolute trust in Pent’s abilities.
“I should use my sword, right?” George asked. “I can use my bow if you really need me to, but…”
“No, you should use your sword. Keep your bow dry for now.”
Ceniro caught up to the cavaliers. They were dead centre in the narrow valley, just off the road. One had light brown hair and blue eyes, wearing yellow armour with white edges, and the other, blue haired and black eyed, wore dark blue armour with white edges; they both wore white tunics that were muddy with travel. The blue one was lying in a heap beside his black horse, blood from a cut on his forehead streaming down his face, and the yellow one, clearly his younger brother, had dismounted in a hurry from his brown horse and was cradling him.
Priscilla hurried up, leaving Caddie to bring her horse along more slowly, and raised her staff over the blue cavalier. The yellow cavalier looked up with a grateful expression of relief.
“Oh, thank you, thank you! I was worried for a minute, there. My name is Andy. This is my older brother Frank. We’re mercenary knights from East Bern.” His voice was much deeper than Ceniro expected.
“Well met, Andy and Frank,” Pent said, turning from brigands to kneel next to the young men. “We’re just glad to help.”
Frank stirred, grunting, and put a hand to his head. Andy pulled him up to sitting and gave him a hug. “We’re all right, Frank! These people are helping us.”
“Then what are we doing sitting in the mud?” Frank demanded. “We have to get up and fight, too!”
“Absolutely, brother!”
“Hello,” Ceniro said. “I’m the tactician for this group. My name is Ceniro. For this battle, I’m going to be using this magic thing called a farseer. It lets me plan strategies and talk to my people, so don’t be surprised if you hear me speaking but I’m not nearby. Okay?” They both nodded. “Frank, I want you to attack that axe-man standing under that tree over there with your sword. Andy, please attack the myrmidon beside him with your lance.”
“Yes, sir!”
A few minutes later, Caddie, who had somehow gotten ahead of the group and was fighting at the top of the pass with Fiora, turned back to Ceniro. “Reinforcements! Enemies!”
Cavven cursed, then swallowed other words and offered a muttered ‘sorry’ to the air near Priscilla. Albert was clearly thinking along the same lines.
Ceniro and Pent hurried forward to the pass. Caddie and Fiora were holding against the enemy fighters, axe-men and mercenaries mostly, but only just, and as Ceniro glanced at his farseer, he could see why. Then he came over the head of the pass and saw for himself.
The valley beyond was filled with soldiers, not mountain thieves, but actual soldiers. Ceniro, comparing the view with his farseer, counted three wyvern knights, a pegasus knight, four cavaliers, five miserable-looking archers, two shamans, four monks, four mages, two myrmidons, and twenty each of axe-men and swordsmen. In front of them all was a paladin.
“Oh, dear,” Ceniro breathed. “This will be difficult, even if we discount the archers.”
“Where did Aldash get the wyvern knights from?” Pent murmured, beside him. “Yes, that’s Aldash on the horse. He looks like he wants to say something. That’s why the others aren’t attacking yet.”
“Ah. Well, I will set up our side for the inevitable.”
“Good luck,” Pent told him, smiling from beneath drenched silver locks plastered to his face. Ceniro ducked behind a lump of rock sticking out from the mountain beside him and began to direct his units.
“We should be able to hold them here at the pass if we do it carefully and only let a few come at a time,” he said, gesturing for Priscilla to move her horse and the pack-horse back into a clump of trees on the right. Caddie, Cavven, and George went into the birch woods on the left of the path. “The real trick will be doing it without getting surprised by those wyverns, and the pegasus, and the shamans. And the monks. They have a lot of monks.” Fiora went further back, hovering at the level of the peaks on either side of her, ready to charge the flying units when they came over the crest of the hill, keeping an eye out for ambushes.
“George, you will probably have to help Fiora; she can’t deal with four fliers at the same time. Will your bow work in the woods? Is it dry enough?”
“Yes, it is. You just give the word.”
Ceniro nodded, a little nervous, and put Andy and Frank dead centre on the path, with the instructions to hit the enemy fast and then pull back, riding in circles if necessary. He worried about the footing, but there was nothing else really to do. Then he went to watch Pent talking with Aldash. Pent and Albert would fill in the hole on the right in front of Priscilla.
“-that’s preposterous,” Pent was saying clearly, rocking back on his heels. “And silly. Why should I join you?”
“Consider our great numbers, Lord Pent. With our forces at your disposal, we could comb the mountains even more quickly for the Jewel of Elimine, and dispatch brigands more easily. Consider, also, that if you oppose us, you will be cut down in moments. Your great power and knowledge is not enough to stand against all of us. Blier was weak and foolish. You won’t have the same luck here.”
“Pent, we’re ready. When he attacks, get back here as quick as you can,” Ceniro whispered into the farseer. Pent raised a hand to show he understood and ran it through his rain-slicked hair.
“I still don’t understand why you want me to join you. You’ve stated why it’s in my interest to join you. Why should we let you join us?”
Aldash spread his hands disarmingly. “We have the greatest interest in discovering the Jewel of Elimine. Lord Eshan, though he is not a formal member of the Eliminean church, has acquired Elimine’s Staff. The only thing missing is the jewel, and he desires to present the staff to the church whole. It would be a greater honour for him. I am his loyal vassal, and thus I have been sent to inform you of our plans.”
Ceniro knew Pent would be rolling his eyes at Aldash calling himself ‘loyal’.
“Come, let us join your search. You will, of course, be allowed to study the jewel once it has been joined with the staff and presented to the church. No one could deny you that.”
Pent hesitated. Ceniro saw Frank lean over to whisper to Andy and the tactician frowned at him.
Pent laughed shortly and came running back to where Ceniro waited, turning back at the top of the pass. “Sorry, Aldash, but I can’t do that. I already have my own faithful little band, and I know better than to trust a word you say. I know neither you nor Eshan have any interest in the study of that jewel, no study at all except power. So I say to you, firmly and irrevocably, no.”
Aldash scowled darkly. “Then you will be destroyed without trace. Attack!”
“Sir Aldash,” said a deep voice. “You have failed, haven’t you?”
Aldash coughed, trying weakly to move. He felt healing magic upon him and sat up, slowly. His face had been cut horribly over his left eye.
“Vork,” growled Aldash. “I-I…”
“There is no need to speak. Lord Pent is stronger than we have been informed, and exceptionally lucky, but his luck will not last forever. Your men who fled have mostly been retrieved. You will be of use again.”
The white-robed figure and the battered paladin warped away, out of the valley of battle.
“We can’t thank you enough, sirs,” Andy said earnestly in the next valley over. “I think we would have been killed if you hadn’t been nearby.”
“You’re welcome,” said Pent affably. “Like I said before, we’re just glad to be able to help. But you said you’re mercenaries?”
“Yes, sir,” said Frank. “We’re mercenaries from East Bern. We were knights abandoned by our lord, and now we earn our own living, defending villages and the like.”
“Hmm.” Pent thought for a moment, then turned to his tactician and saw the look on his face. “Thinking what I’m thinking, eh, Ceniro?”
“Yes, I believe I am, Pent. Please?”
Pent laughed. “You don’t have to ask.” He turned to the cavaliers. “Would you like some work for the next week or two?”
Andy brightened considerably. “We’d love to work with you, sir!” Frank nodded. “We’re good at fighting in mountains, since that’s where we are!”
“Well, that’s settled, then,” Pent said. “Welcome aboard. And you don’t have to call anyone ‘sir’ if you don’t want to. We’re a little eccentric that way. For some reason, they all still call me sir except Ceniro here.”
“That could be something to do with the fact that you’re still Count Reglay,” Priscilla said shyly. Pent shrugged and rolled his eyes.
“And you definitely don’t have to call me ‘sir’,” Ceniro told them. “In fact, I really would prefer it if you didn’t. I’m no lord, and in my last campaign, everyone called me by my name.”
Andy shrugged. “I guess we can do that.”
“Thank you so much,” Frank added again warmly.
Louise herself answered the door. “Lord Lesil! How kind of you to call. What can I do for you?”
“I came to avail myself of your hospitality once more, my dear lady. Surely you would like some company?”
Louise resisted the urge to say “never yours, you creepish twisted snake, and that’s the second time you used that line since you visited three days ago” and invited him in.
They sat in the marble room, Louise’s favourite sitting room with its big white soft armchairs and lush red carpet.
“A game of chess, milady?” Lesil asked, waving carelessly at the little ivory and ebony chess set in the corner. Louise nodded, smiling politely. She lost, not unusual when she was playing against Lesil.
The silence was nearly unbearable, but Louise thought that speech might be more unbearable. Lesil was so different from Pent. Where Pent was warm, cheerful, funny, tender, and – when not engaged in research – thoughtful for her comfort and happiness, Lesil had no sense of humour at all, was aggressive and proud, and his pleasantness seemed only a mask over a face of lust for power. His eyes were cold and she suppressed a shudder each time he looked at her.
“Excellent match, milady. Of course, I won, but I am an experienced general. While I hear you are an amateur archer of sorts, one must never forget you have no knowledge of war.”
Louise bent her head politely.
“You are lonely, are you not, my dear, with Lord Pent away?”
“Oh, no, milord,” Louise replied earnestly. “Erk is always here, and I have plenty of things to do. I have my archery, as you said, and I have my own reading – and I do love making food with our cook, although I am not very good at it yet.”
Lesil frowned slightly. “If I were married, I would not treat my wife in such a way, nonetheless. I would not leave her helpless in my castle while I went gallivanting across the country. And cooking! It is no fit occupation for a lady.” He shook his head. “If I were married, my wife would be above all that. She would have no need of such things to pass the time.”
Louise coughed lightly. “I am sure there are many ladies who agree wholly with your views.”
“But none of them are as beautiful as the foolish woman I love,” said Lesil, his gaze raking her body. Louise pretended not to notice and tried to engage him in other conversation. They talked of horses and hunting for a while, and then Lesil asked to see a little more of the house and grounds. She obliged him, though she avoided Erk’s room. The young mage was sure to be studying hard and she did not want to bother him. Not while Lesil was around, at any rate. When they reached the courtyard, she did not take him into the barracks out of respect for the soldiers’ privacy, but Yens, near the door, came out and saluted smartly. Louise thought Lesil looked, at last, a little bit impressed.
But she didn’t even show him the rabbit pillow.
When he had gone, Louise rushed upstairs and sat alone in her bedroom, twisting her hands together anxiously.
Finally, she collected herself and dressed in her archery gear and spent three hours sending arrows thudding viciously into targets in the garden.
Erk came to find her. “Lady Louise? Usually you have called me at least twice by now to take a break. What is the matter?”
“Oh, Erk…” Louise began, her next arrow sliding from her slender fingers. “I’m so worried.”
“About Lord Pent?” the mage asked quizzically, sitting on a bale of hay and running a hand through his purple hair.
“No… Yes… No… Well… Yes. But not for his safety, this time.”
“Lady Louise, it is obvious you are under a great deal of stress. Tell me, and we’ll find a way to solve it together.”
“Well…” Louise sat down beside Erk, took a deep breath, stopped twisting her golden braid, passed both hands over her face, and began.
Douglas was walking to the throne room of Castle Aquleia when he heard raised voices in a side room. It was Duke Ocery, the strong lord who had showed signs of interest in the jewel Pent was after, and another. Douglas listened for a moment and then decided it was probably Arcard.
“Why can’t you see?” Ocery was saying. “I can handle myself. I’m not going to let any other bastard have all the fun chasing down Pent and that jewel. I’ll let him find it, of course, but I’m strong enough to take possession of it and keep it.”
Arcard said something in a low voice.
“You coward,” Ocery said. “That knight of Douglas’s has the right idea, at least. I never thought he had it in him. He was always playing the faithful little apprentice.”
Douglas stiffened and walked away quickly. He had heard enough.
“Percival! Percival, come here, lad.” The blonde squire came running from Douglas’s study. “See if Rhost is in his room, lad. I want to talk to him about something.”
The boy was back almost immediately. “There’s no one there, sir. And it seems strangely empty. Should I check the barracks? Or the sparring ground? Or-“
Douglas raised his hand. “That’s all right, Percival. Just go and continue what you were doing. I’ll find him myself.”
Rhost’s room was quite empty; both of Rhost and some of his personal belongings, especially clothes. There was a note on the desk, addressed to General Douglas. The old knight wondered that his squire had missed it.
“Dear sir,” the note read, “I write to you with regret, but also hope. Regret that I must disobey your word that has been law to me these last ten years, but hope that you may think better of me once you find out where I am gone.”
“I could not ignore the stories that have been circulating about the holy jewel that Count Reglay has gone to find. I suspect he has your help in this somehow, sir, though I never knew for certain and I know better than to commit certainties to paper. I have heard tale of the mighty powers of this jewel and have thought that, though all the stories be false, yet it would be great honour for my family if I were to either find the jewel myself, or at least to assist Count Reglay. Granted, I have never met him, and have only his portrait to go by, but I am sure I will find him, either on the way there or the way back. But it is not only I who have heard the stories, and perhaps attended to them more than I should – Lorad has disappeared with horse and arms, and his closest companions are complaining that they were left behind. It is quite certain he has gone in search himself. Sir, I know I am only one man, perhaps off on a wild goose chase. Yet I cannot risk even the smallest chance that such a one as Lorad discover this prize.”
“Please forgive my hasty departure, but I am afraid if I see you, sir, you will keep me here and send someone else in my place. I will ever be your true knight, but I beg your forgiveness (rather than permission) and leave, for this quest. I will be back soon, I am sure. Do not worry. I will be careful and always keep your training at the front of my mind. I have entrusted my duties to Harald; he should carry them out as well as I. I also beg Cecilia’s forgiveness that I will not be around to call upon her as I promised.”
“Yours ever,”
“Rhost.”
Douglas refolded the note slowly and sat down in the wooden chair, putting a hand to his head. All that time, and Rhost had suddenly snapped and run off into the blue. It was almost absurd. It couldn’t have been just the stories flying all over the capital; it had to have been constant pressure from someone Rhost trusted. There was no other way he would abandon Douglas and flee the castle.
Well. He was late for his meeting. Douglas rose and walked swiftly to the throne room.
