Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (68 page)

“You speak of dynasty.”

Jihan nodded. “My ancestor’s rulership of Malcor isn’t ancient like yours. Not even four hundred years yet. More than one Lord of Malcor has died childless. Adoption at Malcor was almost a tradition before my family was raised to rule in the north. I wouldn’t bring those uncertain times back again.”

“I’m sure you will not. You have time,” Keverin said to comfort his friend, but it was for himself and Athione that he sent a prayer winging its way to the God.

Please let there be time!

Jihan nodded. “You’re right. So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan?”

“Meagan.”

Keverin grunted. “I will confront him with Hringham and the plight of the people there.”

“His people.”

“Your point?”

Jihan shrugged. “My point is that he breaks no law—”

“He breaks the
God’s
law!” Keverin said sharply.

“Peace my friend,” Jihan said raising a hand. “Under the King’s law, he may do whatever he wishes within his own borders. We have no power to challenge that. Only the King may do so.”

“No one with honour would treat his people so.”

“Exactly my point. Meagan is an honourless little weasel—you agree?”

“Certainly.”

“Then what makes you think he will change his ways?”

Keverin scowled. “I could challenge him.”

“So could I, so
will
I, but what if he refuses to accept?”

No true man would refuse to accept such a challenge to his authority, but Jihan was right in his estimation of Meagan. “I’ll think about it when it happens.”

“Fair enough.”

They camped that night beside the road in a small clearing that had obviously been used for that purpose for many years. There were stone circles blackened from the ash of old camp fires, and there was a stream that ran sweet and pure near to hand. Firewood had been left in neat piles by previous travellers, and Keverin ordered more cut to replace what they used. The sergeants arranged a watch schedule with their captains and sentries were quickly set. Jihan’s men would trade off with Keverin’s to split the night in two. The weather was fine, the chance of rain remote. The tents were left packed aboard the wagons in order to facilitate an early start in the morning.

“We should do this more often,” Julia said snuggled next to Keverin where he sat on a log before one of the fires. “I could get to like camping.”

“Camping,” Keverin mused. “You make it sound like entertainment.”

“Where I come from it is. There are people who journey into the countryside just to live in a tent for a while.”

Keverin’s eyebrows climbed. “A strange pastime.”

“You would say that, but if you saw my world you would understand.”

“Oh?”

“We live our lives by the clock, Kev. We never seem to have enough time to do what we want to do. We rush from place to place not realising just what we’re missing. Our trip to Devarr would be considered a short hop in my world. It would only take a few days by car and we would still think it too long. There are people that regularly fly around the world and think nothing of it.”

Keverin shook his head hardly able to imagine it. “I would like to see that.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Julia said with a shiver. “You wouldn’t like my world. I don’t ever want to go back—not ever.”

“You won’t have to,” Keverin said wondering at the change in her.

“I don’t want to be alone. Not again,” she whispered.

Propriety be damned, he thought. He bent to kiss her. Julia raised her lips to his and the kiss deepened. The world faded until there was only Julia and her touch. She was everything he had ever wanted in a woman. He would be lost without her. Their lips parted and they stared into each other’s eyes completely unaware of all the grinning and happy faces surrounding them.

“You will never be alone again. I swear it.”

“I love you so much it hurts,” Julia said suddenly teary eyed.

Keverin nodded. “I feel it too,” he said and thumped his armoured chest over his heart. “Right here.”

“Yes,” Julia said swallowing her tears and laughing at herself. “Just look at me. See what you’ve done?”

“I
am
looking.”

Julia blushed scarlet.

Keverin looked reluctantly away. “Strike us up a tune, Udall.”

“Aye m’lord!” Udall said happily and took up his lute. “What would you have?”

“The Milkmaid’s Daughter!” someone called.

“The Guardsman’s Lament!” another said, but it was drowned out by laughter. It wasn’t a song for polite company and there were noble ladies present.

“How about Gentle Gwen?” Moriz said. “I always liked that one.”

Halbert snorted. “Big bad guardsman! You’re nothing but a big softy!”

The guardsmen howled in laughter. “He’s right Moriz!”

Moriz scowled. “It’s a good song,” he said trying to ignore the laughter and catcalls.

“It’s about a village girl and her sweetheart,” Keverin whispered to Julia while the debate continued. “She falls in love with a guardsman, but he’s called away to war by his lord.”

“Does it have a happy ending?”

“In a way. She crosses the kingdom to find him, but he lies buried under a weeping willow where he fell. She finds his grave and in her time is buried by his side. The last part tells of them living forever in the Other World.”

“Together?” Julia said.

Keverin nodded. “Forever,” he said and raised Julia’s hand for a chaste kiss.

Udall began to play Gentle Gwen and Moriz sang in a surprisingly good voice. Burke retrieved his flute and played along. Halden sang the chorus and everyone joined in. Julia concentrated upon the words, and when the chorus came around a second time, she joined in. To Jessica’s amused disgust, Udall played The Milkmaid’s Daughter next. It was a popular tune with the guardsmen. More instruments were hastily pulled out of the baggage and into the firelight. It wasn’t long before they had their very own orchestra composed of widely grinning foot tapping guardsmen.

Julia laughed when she heard the song. It belonged in a common room and would probably be sung by a sot deep in his cups. Everyone roared with laughter when Keverin played the part of the daughter’s intended. On one knee he sang to Jihan. Jihan fluttered his eyelashes coyly and flounced away singing his part. He returned to Keverin with his hands folded shyly under his chin for the chorus.

Everyone sang the chorus, and then Keverin sang to Jihan again. He was panting from laughing so hard when he rejoined Julia.

“That was marvellous,” Julia said happily.

“Jessica will give me what for later.”

“No she won’t. She hasn’t laughed so hard in ages.”

“Nor have I!” Keverin said with a grin.

Mathius rose to his feet and everyone hushed in expectation. In a quiet voice he told the story of the Founding. Keverin had heard the tale many times. Instead of watching Mathius as he brought that long ago time to life, he watched Julia. She was spellbound. She was leaning forward and hanging on Mathius’ every word.

Julia saw him watching her out the corner of her eye. She grinned at him. “What?”

Keverin shook his head with a smile. “I just like looking at you.”

Julia held out her hand and he took it. “Listen, he’s coming to the best part.”

Keverin reluctantly turned his attention to Mathius just as he conjured a dragon. He gasped in shock, but it went unheard. There were gasps and gaping faces aplenty.

“Oooh…”

“Ahhhh…”

“Look at that!”

The dragon was lovingly crafted in tiny detail. Its silver scales shimmered and reflected the firelight. It floated above Mathius’ hand lazily flapping its wings as if flying through the air. It was a beautiful creature and one that Keverin recognised. There was a much larger version of Mathius’ dragon in the great hall at Athione. The dragon tapestry was very old and based on a story from the Histories.

Julia was grinning at his stunned expression. Keeping her voice low she said, “I knew he could do it.”

“Do?”

“Illusions,” Julia said simply. “He’s been playing around with them for tendays. He got the idea from my botched attempt at a ward—you remember?”

Keverin shook his head. “I never saw it.”

Julia’s face darkened and he squeezed her hand. She was remembering her first attempt at warding. It had been just a short time after the sorcerers destroyed Athione’s west wall and gate towers. He had been badly injured and near death when Julia climbed one of the crumbling towers to fight. She had tried to raise a ward to replace the one destroyed, but according to Marcus and others he had spoken to, it had manifested itself as a mere curtain of blue light. It had
looked
like a ward, but it was merely light. It was unable to hold the enemy out of the fortress.

“That was a long time ago, Julia. Don’t think about it.”

“Easy to say,” Julia said with a brittle smile. “Anyway, that’s where he got the idea. He really is a genius, Kev. We were talking about wards and how the different types were constructed, when he suddenly said that if I could raise blue light with magic, why not shadows? That’s all an illusion really is you know—light and shadows. The next thing I know, he’s experimenting with them and adding other colours.”

“He’s amazing,” Keverin said because Julia wanted him too. “What else can he do?”

“Just the dragon—he isn’t very strong yet. It’s tiring for him.”

The dragon was a pretty thing, but it wasn’t a very practical kind of magic. He didn’t say that though. Julia and Mathius had a special relationship—one he could have been jealous of if not for his own special place in Julia’s heart. He respected her feelings for Mathius because he shared them to a—no doubt lesser—extent. He could never know the intimate bond they shared—the bond between two people blessed with the God’s power, but then Mathius would never know what Julia and he shared together. Keverin watched the dragon rise above Mathius’ head and belch flames into the night. It rose higher and higher until finally disappearing with one final blast of fire. There was a hush over the camp. All eyes were searching the sky as if expecting the creature to return.

Mathius broke the silence, “And that, my dear friends, was how Deva was born in blood and fire.” He bowed to Keverin and Jihan.

Thunderous applause erupted from all sides as Mathius took his place by the fire. Julia winked at him, and he grinned in delight.

Keverin stood and the camp quieted. “We have an early start tomorrow, but I think there’s time left for one dance,” he said and held out his hand to Julia. “Come my lady.”

Udall whispered to Burke and the other players. There were nods and hasty retuning of strings. Udall began it. It was a simple melody that was commonly played at weddings and feast days. No one knew its origins, but that it was old was beyond question. There had been many different songs penned to accompany it over the years.

Julia took Keverin’s hand reluctantly and he pulled her to her feet. “I’ll get you for this,” she said under her breath just as Burke and the other players began to play their accompaniment.

“Hush,” Keverin said. “You know how to dance better than anyone I know.”

“Gymnastics is a different kind of dancing.”

“I know,” he said with laughter in his eyes.

Julia curtsied and tried to cover her sigh of exasperation, but Keverin heard it all right. He bowed, and then led her into the dance. She responded to him and the music beautifully. He knew she would.

Julia was made for dancing.

The next day found Keverin’s thoughts far from music and dancing. In the distance, Herstal Keep rose seemingly out of the forest as they followed the road over dip and rise. It was built on a hill that had once been the site of a watch tower guarding the river approach to Devarr. The tower was gone now, only its purpose remained. A purpose Herstal fulfilled admirably. It was a shame that the same couldn’t be said for its lords. The trees had been allowed to close back in from where the Founders had pushed them. No doubt Meagan liked a little hunting—most lords did, but allowing the forest to hold that which foolish lords had allowed it to reclaim, was more than just unwise. True, the keep—and the tower before it—had been built to watch the river approach, but it also watched the land. That land was now composed of deep forest.

Meagan wasn’t a fool, but he was acting like one. No one could treat his people so badly and not reap the consequences. He must know that. Why then was he doing it? Why, if not for greed, was he taxing his people into ruin? It was more than just brutal. It was foolish. Meagan’s prosperity relied upon the prosperity of his people and lands. By doing as he had done, he was weakening himself.

“Why destroy his own?”

“Hmmm?” Jihan said. “Who?”

Keverin nodded at the keep, visible again as they topped a rise in the road. “Meagan. Put yourself in his place for a moment—”

“I’d rather not.”

“—do that and destroy your own people?” Keverin said ignoring Jihan’s sarcasm. “Where is the gain?”

“Gold?”

“In the short term, yes, but he’ll ruin his lands. It doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes sense all right,” Jihan said. “Just not to us.”

Keverin grunted. “I suppose.”

“What about undermining the King? It would have that effect wouldn’t it?” Julia said.

“He’s dead.”

“Yes, now he’s dead, but he wasn’t when Meagan and Scalderon started this.”

Keverin frowned. Julia had shown him the letters penned by such lords as Scalderon and Meagan. There was no mention of any such plan. There was treachery and conspiracy, but no mention was made of taxes.

“How many others were involved in your father’s plans?” Keverin said.

Jihan scowled. “Athlone’s treachery was spread far and wide. Did they all write letters? I doubt it. Those that did are bad enough. There’s no telling how many were involved or how deeply.”

“You’re looking at this all wrong,” Julia said.

Keverin turned to find his lady close behind him. “Oh?”

“You told me that if Athlone had tried to go through with his plan, there would have been civil war.”

“And so there would,” Jihan said. “Athlone chose his allies carefully and well. Those he needed most would have known his plans in detail. They had to be deeply involved—the letters prove that—and trusted as much as Athlone trusted anyone.”