Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (43 page)

The first few days they had kept to an easy pace, and Julia had wondered what all the fuss was about. A little nudge with her heels made it go. All you did was sit on top and steer. What could be easier than that? How do you make it stop, should have been her first question, and not how to make it go. When her companions stopped to make camp that first night her horse had kept walking on into the night. The guardsmen had thought it hilarious, but she hadn’t. The flaming beast wouldn’t stop no matter what she said, so all she could do was turn back. After circling three times like an airliner coming into land, she had threatened to zap their arses with her magic, unless someone stopped the damned thing. The next day she was given a lesson in horsemanship and learned how to make her horse do what she wanted.

They were well on their way to Malcor now. The land hereabouts was desolate, and she had been a little worried to see Jihan load his horse with two large water bags and not just one. He said something about a promise he had made to himself, but she didn’t know what the promise was. Seeing the desolate hills and lack of towns, she realised extra water was a good idea.

They kept riding until well after dark.

At Keverin’s order they stopped to make camp. Julia sat atop her horse and stared wearily at the ground trying to decide how she was going to get down without collapsing.

“Do you need some help, Lady?” Ahnao said.

“I don’t think my legs will work. If I can just get them to cooperate, I might be able to get off this flaming torture machine.”

Ahnao laughed, but there was concern in her eyes. “I’ll get Jihan to lift you down.”

Ahnao swept away. How Julia envied her ability to ride without pain.

The girl returned and Jihan lifted Julia down in his strong arms. Rather than set her on her feet, he took her into a tent the guardsmen had hastily erected for her. She was grateful for their thoughtfulness. She didn’t want them to see her fall and have to crawl. Ahnao helped her to undress. Each night they went through a similar routine. Ahnao helped her undress and then applied the balm to her sore thighs and backside. It warmed her muscles as if she were in a sauna.

Julia sighed as the pain was replaced by a warm numbness. “Thanks Ahnao. That feels much better. I hope I’ll be all right when we reach Malcor.”

“You’ll fine. It always feels like it will never end at first. You must be very strong with all these muscles. I thought ye were from Camorin when I first saw ye. Jihan says even women are warriors there.”

“Pretty strong I guess,” Julia said as she dressed. “I wish I could ride like you though.”

Ahnao looked down and spoke in a small voice. “I ain’t that good. I’m just a peasant. Anyone can ride a horse—been doing it since me ma took me in. Never had fine horses like them out there though. We use plough horses for most everything.”

“Don’t put yourself down, Ahnao,” Julia said reaching out and squeezing the girl’s hand. “Where I come from we don’t have peasants and nobles. In your blue dress you look as much a high born lady as Jessica does.”

Ahnao didn’t look up. “Jihan is a lord’s son. He’s the heir to Malcor! How can such as me even dream…?”

“He likes you. I’ve seen him looking at you when he thinks no one can see.”

“Looking is nothing. A lord can dally with a peasant girl, but he won’t marry one.”

Jihan was different from other lord’s sons, but that different? He did like Ahnao, Julia was sure of it. The heir to a place like Malcor though would need more. Would a girl like Ahnao be able to command respect from the others in the fortress? Would they even give her the chance to try? Julia was unused to thinking along these lines, but she tried for Ahnao’s sake. Ahnao would need to speak as the nobles did, and never slip back into her usual way of saying things. Clothes were easy—the fortress would be full of them. Jihan’s regard was already turned her way, so the only thing Julia could think of was making Ahnao sound and act like a lady.

“Do you know the difference between you and me—apart from my magic that is?”

“You are beautiful, and a Lady, and strong, and—”

Julia broke into Ahnao’s tirade. “Nothing. The difference is nothing, Ahnao. If I put on your peasant dress and spoke like you, everyone would call me a peasant. Put a fancy dress on and talk like a Lady, and suddenly I’m a Lady. Do you see? You must look people in the eyes and never look down or away. It makes people think you’re timid and below them. If you listen and remember, you can learn how to sound like a noble. I’ll help you. If you ride with me, we can chat. I’ll try to teach you what to say. Half the battle is thinking about what you want to say before saying it.”

“Do you think Jihan will want me?”

“Anything is possible. Just look at me—I wasn’t even born on this world! Getting you and Jihan together should be easy to arrange compared to that.”

Ahnao grinned. “I be good at remembering.”

Julia smiled. “If someone asks you something, don’t answer straight away. You should wait a moment to collect your thoughts and then speak carefully. You would say something like this: me ma said I was to get the water. I would say this: my mother asked me to fetch the water. Do you see? I said exactly the same thing as you did, but it sounds completely different.”

Ahnao nodded. “I understand me—my Lady.”

“That’s right. When speaking, two people of equal rank should call each other by name—unless you’re being introduced for the first time or wish to be formal. After being introduced to someone like Jessica, you would say: I am pleased to meet you, Lady Jessica. Later you would say hello Jessica or good morning Jessica, something like that.”

“I should say: I understand, Julia?” Ahnao said.

Julia nodded. “When we enter Malcor, there will be servants. Try to remember how the lords spoke to Keverin’s people. Force yourself to talk to them the way Keverin talks to his servants. He treats them kindly, but you can hear the difference when he speaks to another lord.”

Julia was uncomfortable with that last part. She thought everyone should be treated the same, but that wouldn’t work for Ahnao who was so unsure of herself. She could be less formal later when she became used to speaking differently.

They spoke late into the night.

Ahnao rode with her the next day and ignored Jihan completely. He seemed puzzled about his abandonment, but he had other things on his mind. Through the rest of the journey, Julia spoke with Ahnao about anything and everything, so that she could hear how a noble spoke. When Keverin rode close, Ahnao listened carefully as Julia kept him talking for candlemarks. When Keverin rode off, she called Brian over and chatted with him. Julia felt she might be in danger of losing her voice, but she kept talking to Ahnao, or Mathius, or one of the guardsmen.

Then the day came when Malcor loomed large.

* * *

Jihan and Julia rode toward Malcor’s south gate. The light was fading now, and it made the fortress seem made of shadow. It was a huge dark mass brooding on its foundations waiting for the unwary to come too close. What was he doing back here? Jihan tried not to let
her
know how badly he wanted to gallop in the opposite direction, but he didn’t think Julia was so easily fooled. He had felt torn with indecision when Keverin had told him the plan. On the one hand, he would have the chance to rule Malcor as it should be ruled. He knew how important it was for a loyal lord to hold the fortresses. On the other hand, there was his father to think of. He had often fantasised about challenging Athlone, but now the time was here he found himself uncertain. Before meeting Ahnao he would have taken any chance to see his father dead for hurting his mother, he had reasoned that he had nothing to lose, but now he found himself thinking about the risk. He had a future with Ahnao to look forward to now, but he couldn’t turn his back on his mother. Her ghost cried out to him for justice.

“We’re nearly there. Have you thought how you’ll handle your father where I’m concerned?”

Jihan turned in his saddle to look at his only companion. Keverin and the others were camped out of sight in the woods close to where he killed Luther. Malcor dominated a large plain, which allowed its approaches to be watched for leagues in any direction. They would be seen if they came any closer.

“Are you all right Jihan? You look ill.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me that galloping a few hundred leagues wouldn’t cure.”

Julia laughed as if he had made a joke. Perhaps to someone as powerful as she was this was all an amusing adventure. To him, it wasn’t funny in the least.

“Be serious will you?” Julia said grinning. “Have you decided what you’ll say?”

“There’s not much
to
say. If they let us in, they might not, but if they do, my father will most likely set a punishment. If he asks why I came back, I’ll say Keverin turned me out.”

“Kev would never do that!”

“You and I know that, but my father hates Keverin. He would believe the worst of him rather than accept him as the better man.”

“What kind of punishment is he likely to set?”

“He’ll most likely order his cronies to beat me—it’s his standard punishment for my disobedience. As if a beating could teach me discipline,” Jihan sneered. “All it ever taught me was how to hide and fight when cornered. That’s over with now. I swore not to put up with such things. I’ll kill them if I have to.”

Julia nodded, and stayed quiet for the rest of the trip.

Jihan reined Jezy to a halt when they reached the gate, and Julia eased up by his side. “Ho the gate!”

“Who comes?”

“Jihan, son of Athlone and heir to Malcor!”

Jihan waited wondering whether his father was aware of his arrival. The thought was soon answered when the gate swung open on well greased hinges. One thing Athlone was good for was keeping the fortress in fighting trim. Julia and he rode through the gate and into the courtyard. He dismounted handing his reins to a stable-hand, and lifted Julia down. The groom took their horses away, and Jihan turned to his father.

Athlone looked old. The man was only fifty two, but the perpetual frown he wore, as if dissatisfied that the world did not do his bidding, made him look wrinkled and worn. Athlone was still a man to be wary of, but his father’s ageing made Jihan feel his youthful strength that much more keenly.

“Well boy? Where is Haiger?”

Jihan took pleasure in ignoring Athlone and instead turned to Julia. “Lady Julia, I would like to present my father, Lord Athlone. Father, this is Lady Julia. We met on my travels.”

“I am delighted to meet you at last, Lord Athlone. Your son has told me
sooo
much about you,” Julia said sweetly.

Athlone was visibly trembling in anger, but to Jihan’s great delight he swallowed it.

“Delighted,” Athlone said through his teeth. “It has been long since a lady so lovely has graced my halls. You are most welcome. If you will excuse me for just a moment, I wish to speak to my son.”

“Of course. It must be hard when a son leaves to go adventuring. You must have missed him
awfully
.”

Jihan tried not to let his amusement show. Anyone who had spoken with Julia would realise her sugar-coated words concealed an intense dislike for Athlone. Fortunately his father was entirely unprepared for a lady to begin with, let alone an intelligent lady sorceress.

“Where are Haiger and the men I sent?”

“Dead,” Jihan said. He gave no further information, and watched his father struggle with his temper. Athlone was not one to hold his temper, but Julia’s presence seemed to restrain him for some reason.

“All six?”

“What did you expect me to do? Allow myself to be brought back like a runaway dog?”

“What I expect is some respect boy!”

Jihan shrugged.

Athlone’s face darkened and he turned back to Julia. “Perhaps you would like to refresh yourself, Lady. If you will follow me, I will show you to your rooms.”

“Thank you, you are most considerate,” Julia said and followed him inside.

Jihan looked around the courtyard once, before trotting up the steps and entering the citadel.

* * *

“She didn’t look like much,” Athlone said. “Good looking I grant you, but dangerous? I hardly think so. She’s nothing but a child.”

“Don’t be fooled by her appearance,” Abarsis warned. “That child as you call her has enough power at her command to level Malcor. Rile her my lord, and you will have the citadel coming down upon your head—upon our heads I should say.”

Athlone grunted and poured himself some wine. “I’ve sent for Jihan. He will be here shortly. You have a plan?”

Abarsis nodded and turned to his two companions. “You felt it?”

“Yes my lord sorcerer. She is strong in the magic.”

The other mage nodded. “It sings.”

“It does,” Abarsis agreed. “Take no chances. Mortain, may he live forever, orders her taken and brought before him. I order you to kill her at the first sign of her escape.”

“As you say, my lord sorcerer.”

“It will be done.”

“Go,” Abarsis said and the two mages bowed then left.

“That’s it? That’s your entire plan?”

“There are two ways to take a mage my lord. One is overwhelm him with superior power. The other is by surprise. No one has enough power to overwhelm Julia by himself—not even Mortain could do so. Surprise then is the plan.”

“What after?”

“Mortain wants her for himself. A spell to hold her, another to bend her to his will, and Julia may well be the mother to a new generation of true sorcerers.”

“I would sooner bed down with a snake,” Athlone said in disgust.

Abarsis nodded in agreement.

* * *

Jihan found his room exactly as he had left it. He took the time to wash and change his clothes before pulling his armour on again. With his sword bare, he sat in a chair watching the door. Why was Athlone waiting? The only thing he could think of was that he was trying to make him edgy. It was working.

The room was in darkness and the sun had been down for at least a candlemark when he heard the knock. Jihan didn’t bother to hide his readiness as he opened the door to find four guardsmen waiting.