Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (23 page)

“They have the right,” Julia whispered almost plaintively as her dream surged up again. She ruthlessly suppressed the images and tried to distract herself with the view.

The citadel was awesome from this vantage. Julia thought herself high up, and she was, but the citadel towered hundreds of feet higher still. She craned her neck upward to see the banners on the towers. They looked tiny from here. With the distance in mind, she realised they must be three times the size of her bed sheets! Above each of the citadel’s six towers, the crescent moon on black of Deva was flying proudly above Athione’s crossed fists on green circle. The towers were round. Although half of each tower was buried in the wall, Julia knew the shape was adhered to on the inside. She had lost count of the times she had climbed the stairs from ground level to women’s quarter. Round and round you climbed, until coming to a door leading to the maze-like corridors each level boasted. No two levels were the same, which would confuse the enemy in wartime, and confused her
all
the time.

The ground floor of the citadel had no windows for obvious reasons, but the other levels boasted large leaded windowpanes. That was still a surprise. Had the citadel been built that way, or did a previous lord succumb to decadence? Keverin would never be foolish enough to reduce the citadel’s strength by making arrow slits wider, so it must be his ancestor’s fault. No, Julia didn’t believe any of Keverin’s family would be foolish enough to change what the Founders had wrought with their sorcery. It was the Founder’s design then. They must have been confident that their magic could defend Athione to decide that a little comfort was permissible.

“Athione was never taken, so they were right.”

“Pardon, Lady, did you say something?”

Julia looked away from the citadel toward the mountain wall. A guardsman stood there unnoticed by her until now. It wasn’t surprising. The mountain had been left in its natural state. The many cracks and crevices provided shadows enough to hide an army. Intentional? She doubted it, but the guardsmen would make use of the advantage.

“I was just wondering if the citadel had ever been different to the way it is now.”

“No, Lady. The Four are the same this day as they were on the first day. The south stable is new though—only five hundred years old or so. Lord Kevlarin built bigger grain stores thirty years ago or thereabouts, and Lord Keverin did it again six years ago. He doubled what was there already. Everyone says we have enough food for years now. Three years if we’re careful.”

“Keverin knew the Hasians would come.”

The guardsmen nodded enthusiastically. “The Lord is a good lord—the best!”

Julia smiled and moved on. Whether Keverin was the best was debatable. No it wasn’t, she admitted reluctantly. It was her own dislike talking. Who was she to judge a good lord from a bad one? She had only met two! Now that Julia knew what to look for, she found more guardsmen spaced at regular intervals along the North Link. There were enough of them to form a chain for messages to the east battlement. It seemed likely the arrangement was an old one—a standard duty post. Maybe she should tell Marcus that the men would be more use in the west courtyard. At least they would be for the next few weeks.

Better not.

Julia reached the east wall and moved along it until she stood over the gates. The towers brought her memories of the battle surging back, but it was the dream not the memory she wished she could forget. It could so easily have been different. It was just dumb luck that she had killed the Hasians and not her friends. Guilt was a powerful force, and Julia had a lot to feel guilty about. She didn’t know how many people she killed that day, but the first man was the only one she could honestly say that she felt no guilt for. She had killed him in self-defence. If only she had known how to make a ward. Julia shook her sadly. Wishing never came to anything. That she was defending others should make her feel better, but it didn’t. The dreams punished her at night, and the memory of what she had done punished her during the day. The wine dulled it though. She could live with it—she had no choice but to live with it.

Julia gazed east between two Merlons. The crenels that allowed a man to shoot his bow at an enemy came no higher than her chest, but she still had difficulty seeing. The sidewalls of the Merlons were tapered toward each other to reduce the angle for enemy missiles while maximising it for the defenders. Standing at the point of a stone V, even one as large as this, meant her view was restricted. She moved to another crenel and then another trying to see the town. East Town wasn’t far away. She could walk the distance in under an hour, or a candlemark she should say—why couldn’t she remember that? It was nestled in the valley at a point where the foothills broadened and flattened out. It was surrounded by fields of crops and grazing sheep. The town didn’t have proper walls, but she was spoilt by Athione’s grandeur. What East Town did have was a grassy ditch surrounding it, which was kept clear of buildings. The waist high wall a few paces inside the ditch was more of a boundary marker than a true defensive position. Even so, it would provide something to hide behind if attacked by brigands.

“No brigand would be stupid enough.”

“You would be surprised, Lady,” a nearby guardsman said. “When Kevlarin was lord, we had trouble with Malcor.”

“Malcor is one of the Four isn’t it?” Julia asked and the guardsman nodded. “Well then, they can’t be brigands—can they?”

“Not now, but years ago there was trouble. Lord Malcor tried to take Lord Padrig’s land. You do know that Lady Jessica is the daughter of the old Lord Padrig?

“She told me,” Julia said.

“He’s dead now of course. Kevlarin went to help Lady Jessica’s father throw back the Malcorans. He won when The Lord killed Lord Malcor.”

“You mean Kevlarin killed the old Lord Malcor?” Julia said with her mind suddenly full of new names and confusion.

The guardsman shook his head. “That’s what we told the new Lord Malcor, but Lord Keverin was the one to slay him. Kevlarin took the blame to save his son from challenge—not that Keverin needed saving. Anyway, the new Lord Malcor challenged Kevlarin for killing his pa. Kevlarin accepted and drained him on the spot!”

Two Lords of Malcor dead just like that? Deva was harsher than she had thought. “What about brigands and East Town?” Julia asked trying to get back to the original question.

“Lord Athlone—he’s Lord Malcor now. He raided East Town and did some real damage before we ran him off. He’s always making trouble, but nothing as bad as that raid before or since.”

Julia could hardly blame Athlone for wanting revenge on the murderers of his father and older brother. Still, she trusted Jessica and Jessica didn’t like Athlone at all. If Jessica said Athlone was bad news, then that was good enough for her.

Julia descended one of the gate towers and surprised a group of guardsmen lounging there. They were betting on a race between two rather large spiders. The track was composed of two scabbards lying parallel to each other, but neither spider seemed close to winning. Both were more interested in trying to escape than racing. When the guardsmen saw Julia they scrambled to their feet looking shamefaced. They were shifting from foot to foot like schoolboys caught playing truant. Julia managed not to laugh, but it was hard. She noticed that Alvin was with them.

“How’s the head, any headaches or dizzy spells?”

“No, Lady. When you fix something, it stays fixed,” Alvin said with no doubts.

The other guardsmen nodded and murmured similar things, but Julia wasn’t so sure. It cost her nothing to ask about recurring problems when she saw a former patient, and it might cost a life if she didn’t. She had some idea of magic’s limitations now, but only through trial and error. Mathius had alluded to problems that hadn’t been solved by magic, but she didn’t know whether that was a matter of choice or necessity.

“Well, I thought I would ask just in case.”

“Thank you Lady, but I’m fine now,” Alvin said with a slight bow.

As Julia made to walk on, all the guardsmen produced Alvin’s little bow. It was as if they were tied together. They bowed perfectly in synch with each other.

“You’ve been practising!” She said joking, but Alvin and the others nodded in agreement.

“Marcus showed us how the Lord does it.”

Julia didn’t know whether to be angry or amused, but this Lady Julia business was getting out of hand! She looked at their earnest faces and couldn’t spoil it for them.

“Well, you do it very well.”

Julia left the tower as quickly as she could without insulting her friends. She was glad to get away from their misplaced adoration.

The bronze clad gates were locked, but the gatekeeper was nearby. Julia knew he must be the one to see because he wore a guardsman’s armour but his sash didn’t have a scabbard thrust through it. Gatekeepers didn’t need swords. There were plenty of guardsmen armed to the teeth and ready for mayhem. All he needed was strong arms and a helper.

Galen had both.

“Open the gate for me would you?” Julia asked.

Galen’s eyes widened when he realised who was asking, but he hesitated. “The Lord said to lock her up tight, Lady. Did he say?”

“Your Lord didn’t say anything about the gates. I’m the one asking. I want to visit East Town for a few hou—candlemarks.”

“I can’t open her up without his say, Lady.”

Keverin, Keverin, bloody Keverin! Julia was sick of wandering around bored out of her mind every day or sitting in her room staring at the fire. It was too hot for a fire, but she had lit it to give her something else to stare at other than her four walls. She wanted out of here for a few hours!

“Please listen,” Julia said as patiently as she could. “I know you have orders to follow, but if you don’t open it for me, I’ll try with my magic. I’ll try not to break anything, but I can’t be sure you’ll still have a gate when I’m done.”

She felt sorry for Galen, but everyone treated her like a child that would break unless handled with care. She felt like a prisoner in Keverin’s personal jail!

“I’ll do it for you, Lady, but the Lord will be angry. If he asks... ?” Galen said almost pleading with her.

“I’ll tell him that I made you do it and that you wouldn’t open until I threatened you with magic. Will that be all right?”

“Thank you!” Galen said in relief. “That’s really good of you, Lady.”

Not really, Julia thought miserably. Galen was thanking her for getting him out of trouble that she herself was dropping him into. She watched the gate being opened, until another distraction took her attention. Alvin and the others had bundled out of the tower when they heard the well known sound of the gates rumbling open. All eight of them came toward her with determination on their faces.

“No,” she said simply.

“But!”

“You are not coming with me,” Julia said. It was time to put her foot down. Everyone was mothering her. It was intolerable!

“...do we say?”

“...the lord—”

“He won’t like it that is certain—”

“I don’t care what your Lord likes or doesn’t like.” Julia interrupted. “I’m not his prisoner or his Lady. He can’t keep me here if I want to leave for a few candlemarks. Do you dispute me?”

“No lady!”

“Not I!”

“But he will...”

The guardsmen subsided unsure what to do or say to next to change Julia’s mind, all except Alvin. He stepped forward ready to argue, and although he was younger than the others, they allowed him to take the lead.

“I don’t need an escort,” Julia said before he could start.

Alvin shook his head in determination. “I will escort you, Lady.”

“I don’t need an escort Alvin, you know that.”

“You are
The Lady
. You need an escort.”

The guardsmen rumbled their agreement, but each man thought he should escort Julia. Alvin was younger than Julia, but the way he looked at her made her feel the young one.

“I have magic. Why do I need an escort as well?”

Julia thought that she might win that way. No woman before her had the gift, but because she did, she could protect herself better than a man with a sword could. Alvin frowned, and Julia was just congratulating herself when he defeated her.

“Magic has nothing to do with it, Lady. It would be dishonourable to let you go without an escort. Letting any noble lady go without escort would be the same.”

“The boy’s right.”

“Yup! Nothing wrong with his head.”

Julia groaned. She heard the agreement from the others only absently, but they backed up her thoughts. Trying to separate a man from what he thought was his honour bound duty would be futile.

“All right Alvin you win,” Julia said with a put upon sigh. “But why you and not Kedric?” It was a petty revenge—trying to cut him out of the trip, but he deserved it for lumbering her with an unwanted escort.

Alvin grinned. “I thought you knew, Lady. I was born in East Town. All my family are there. Besides, I thought you might like a tour.”

The Guardsmen laughed and slapped Alvin on the back for a well run campaign. Julia scowled, but the good cheer infected her and she laughed along with them.

“Come along then,” Julia said to Alvin as she walked out the gate.

Julia was enjoying her new won freedom. East Town was prosperous and the people were happy. She walked with Alvin by her side looking at the stalls in the market place. She had no money, and didn’t know what she could do to earn some, but her lack of funds didn’t spoil the pleasure of seeing new things.

Julia held a glass figure up to the sun and stared mesmerised as the light was shattered into blinding sparkles. The figure was of a woman with arms raised as if about to fly away. Her hair streamed back behind her, and her green cloak billowed as if the wind had just sprung up. The cloak was the most amazing part. How had the artisan managed the colour? And what about the fragility of such thin glass? The woman herself could have been anyone. The features were vague with just the barest hint of femininity in her bodily features, but that enhanced its beauty by drawing Julia’s eyes to the piece as a whole rather than to one portion of it.