Forging Divinity (27 page)

He took a sip, and it certainly didn’t taste like poison. Not that he had much experience to compare it to.

“I have to ask,” Taelien began, turning to Edon with a goblet in his hands, “Why the fixation on my presence in the city? I didn’t come here to cause any trouble.”

“Your capture was a simple misunderstanding,” Edon offered. “If I had been apprised of your arrival in the city, I would have offered you diplomatic freedom immediately. Unfortunately, as you are no doubt aware now, we have strict laws against wearing Tae’os-related symbols in public. I sincerely doubt the guards who arrested you had any concept of who they were dealing with.”

Taelien nodded. “That makes sense,” Taelien replied. “I’m not particularly familiar with the history behind your city. I was just coming here to visit someone. Why do you have such strict laws about Tae’os worship?”

“It usually doesn’t come to an arrest,” the not-Myros offered. “But we have to be careful not to allow Tae’os followers to propagate the old faith here.”

“Why is that?” Landen asked, surprising Taelien. Everyone turned to look at Landen, with Edon seeming to notice the man for the first time. “I mean, they’re mostly harmless, aren’t they? Believe in life and freedom and such?”

  “Some sects have historically been much more violent than others,” Edon explained. “But violence is not the primary concern. I cannot tolerate the spread of ignorance in my city. The Tae’os Pantheon may have existed at one point – perhaps they still do. But they are no longer active in the world, and therefore no longer worthy of worship. Their religion misleads people into believing that these gods look after them, guide them, give them strength. That is no longer true.”

“The laws are for the protection of the people, Landen,” Lydia explained, drawing a half-raised eyebrow from Taelien. “Old god worship prevents people from looking for real, practical solutions to their problems. They might stand over a sick man and pray to Lissari, for example, rather than seeking the aid of a doctor – or of the very real gods of our city.”

“I suppose that makes sense, throwing them in irons just seems a bit harsh,” Landen replied, jerking a thumb at Taelien. “I heard from Veruden that they put him in chains. In the Adellan Room, no less. Where is Veruden, anyway? Thought he was coming.”

Lydia glanced from side to side, frowning, apparently also processing Veruden’s unexpected absence.

“Again, it is unfortunate that actions were taken against our honored guest,” Edon waved to Taelien, “Without my knowledge or consent. We have no laws that instruct anyone to bind Tae’os followers in chains. Typically, Tae’os-related symbols are simply confiscated, and the followers are educated and sent on their way.”

Taelien remembered that someone – maybe Lydia? – had mentioned that Tae’os followers typically weren’t treated harshly, and that his case was unusual. And, of course, Lydia had explained that he was going to be executed if he hadn’t escaped.

“I take no offense,” Taelien said, waving a hand dismissively in the air, turning back to Edon. “I understand that you were not involved in my arrest. That said, I would like to see measures taken to ensure nothing similar happens again.”

Edon raised a hand to his chin. “Hrm. Is that what you’re asking for as your boon, then? A change in the laws, to protect Tae’os followers from abuse?”

Taelien shook his head. “No, I’ll request that as a part of my new position as an ambassador. The boon will come later.”

Edon smiled warmly. “Very good. I would hope you wouldn’t squander your prize on something as simple as that.”

Squander? It would only be squandering the boon because you would not act on it in good faith. If anything, any abuses would simply be more secretive. I’m sure they will be either way, given how public this incident was.

Taelien picked up a cutting knife and began to slice his beef into roughly equally sized pieces, considering. What should I ask for? What would give me leverage?

I could ask for the Heartlance,
he considered.
It is ‘within his power’ to give it to me. But I’d risk grave offense.
The type of grave offense that would put me in the grave, most likely.

“You were very open-ended about this ‘boon’ you offered,” Taelien pointed out, still cutting his meat. “What are the exact terms?”

“Ah, an excellent question. The boon must not violate any of our laws, create any kind of threat to the kingdom, or tax our resources in a way that would threaten the lives of the people of the city,” Edon explained, leaning forward across the table to pull a plate of bread toward him. The gesture seemed oddly disjointed from his lordly bearing.

“All reasonable restrictions,” Taelien said, nodding.

“You can have some time to consider it,” Edon offered. “In fact, I would be pleased for you to remain at the high palace as my guest. I believe we could learn a great deal from each other.”

Taelien quirked a brow at that. “I am honored by the offer, but I fail to see what knowledge I could offer you. I’m just a swordsman.”

Landen and not-Myros both scoffed at that. “You are hardly ‘just a swordsman’, Taelien. I haven’t had a fight like that in ages,” the Myros said.

You haven’t had a fight like that at all,
Taelien thought, but he forced a grin. “You flatter me. I know I could not have won an extended exchange. I was forced to resort to dubious tactics,” Taelien offered, trying to sound more humble than he actually felt.

“Dubious or not, they sure worked,” Landen said, putting a hand on Taelien’s shoulder. “You ever feel like doing a team bout, you come to me first.”

Taelien turned and nodded to Landen. “I’d like that, actually. I regret not having a chance to see more of your Lysen Tear style.”

Landen nodded. “I’m sure we can set something up in the future.”

“Another bout with you in the arena would be certain to draw a great crowd,” Edon offered. “You were quite impressive today. We could arrange for you to demonstrate your skills again, perhaps to raise funds for a cause of your choice.”

Taelien pondered that.
Another chance for them to try to off me in the ring,
he considered,
but that might be too blatant. Perhaps he just wants to use my reputation to make his city look better. Making me a local champion helps detract from any stories that I was initially mistreated, and it would even help make it look like he’s being very reasonable about the Tae’os Pantheon.

Or, Taelien considered,
it might even look like the Tae’os Pantheon has a presence here. And that it works for, or with, him.

“I’ll have to think about it. Truth be told, I probably need a few days to recover before I make any serious decisions.” Taelien laughed, and the others laughed along with him.

“Yeah, you took a bit of a beating there,” the Myros said in a friendly tone. “But that’s to be expected, given that it was five on one.”

“He evened out those odds pretty well, I’d say,” Landen groaned. “How’d you do that trick with pulling away all of our swords?”

Edon seemed to turn his gaze more intently toward Taelien in response to Landen’s question.

“Trade secret,” Taelien replied with a grin. “Maybe I’ll teach you someday.”

“Don’t make promises if you’re not going to keep them,” Landen replied with a grin.

“Not a promise,” Taelien amended, raising his hands in a warding gesture. “Just a possibility. It depends on how long I’m in the city.”

“Well, I believe we can all agree that you would be welcome for a long stay,” Edon offered, taking a bite of a hunk of brown bread. Still chewing, he turned toward Lydia. “You’re awfully quiet, sorceress.”

“I am simply overwhelmed in such austere company, Ascended,” Lydia replied, bowing her head slightly.

“Resh, I don’t remember you being so timid when I brought you on as a sorceress,” Edon said, waving his bread-carrying hand. “Tell us, what do you think Taelien should ask me for his boon?”

Lydia quirked a brow, turning to Taelien, and then back to Edon. She raised two fingers, pushing up her glasses. “Well, if I was in his position,” she said, sounding as if she was pondering aloud, “I would ask you to make me a god.”

A broad smile slid across Edon’s face. “Ah,” he said, setting his bread down. “Now that’s more like the sorceress I remember. A brilliant idea, and ambitious. Strictly speaking, it would not violate any of my conditions. Somehow, I doubt it would be to his style-“

“Very well, make me a god,” Taelien said. “That is the boon I require.”

I was planning to ask for help finding Erik Tarren, but there’s a good chance Edon is one of his enemies if Tarren was working with Tae’os followers. This could get me more information, and more power, if it’s actually true.

Edon turned to Taelien, tilting his head to the side, chewing for another moment and then swallowing. “Interesting.” He paused. “Very interesting. I would not have expected that.” Edon glanced to Lydia, and then back to Taelien. “Very well, then. That particular boon has a condition, however.”

“You’d really consider that, master?” the Myros asked, shooting a quizzical glance at Edon. Landen seemed to have fallen silent for a change, glancing rapidly between Taelien and Edon.

Edon waved a hand dismissively at the Myros. “I offered him any boon within my capability. Godhood is not simple to obtain, as you already know.” He turned to Taelien. “I can’t simply snap my fingers and make you a god,” he explained. “But I can put you on the path, and offer my help.”

“Accepted,” Taelien said. “When do we start?”

“As you accurately pointed out, you probably should take some time to rest before doing anything taxing. And, I assure you, the tests of godhood will be taxing.” Edon place his elbows on the table, looking straight at Taelien. “There will be considerable danger – both failure and death are possible.”

Tests of godhood. That seems like a great time for him to try to get rid of me.

Taelien glanced at Lydia, but her expression was neutral. He looked back to Edon. “I will take some time to prepare for these challenges, then. Perhaps your champions,” he indicated Landen and Myros, “Or even your sorceress could help me prepare.”

“You will be given all the resources you need,” Edon assured him. “But you must understand this – if I help to make you a god, you will be a god of this city. Dedicated to this city, and its protection. Those are my terms.”

“I have no objection to that,” Taelien replied, turning to Lydia too late to catch the trepidation in her features. A knock sounded on the door a moment later, causing all the people present to turn.

“Open,” Edon said, and the door swung open, seemingly of its own accord. A thin, lanky-looking young man stood in the doorway, looking nervous.

“I, um, am so sorry to bother you. The queen – er, Queen Regent Tylan – has requested Lydia,” he stammered.

“Go ahead, sorceress,” Edon offered. “You can dine with us again another night.”

Lydia turned to Edon, putting down her food, and gave him another bow and salute. “Thank you, Ascended. I will look forward to it.”

She pushed herself away from the table, giving Taelien one final look, and pleading with her eyes for him to be careful.

I’m always careful,
he said with his return glance and a half-grin.
Especially when I’m charging right at my enemies.

Lydia gave a bow and salute to the Myros, nodded to Landen, and retreated from the room.

Chapter XI – Necessary Precautions

Lydia followed a pair of guards toward the queen regent’s sitting room, swallowing her nervousness. She still had her Comprehensive Barrier spell active in case of emergencies, but she was more worried about Taelien’s situation than her own. He was isolated now, amongst any number of potential threats – and in spite of his obvious combat prowess, she doubted his chances against Edon and Myros together.

What is he?
Lydia pondered as she followed along familiar corridors.
And what do I need to do to protect him?

Mentioning godhood as a boon had been a gamble – she hadn’t expected him to accept. Now, they had placed Edon in an even more precarious position than before. He’d have to deliver his promise to Taelien or find a way to remove the swordsman from the equation quickly and quietly. Like right now, for instance.

The sorceress shook her head, dismissing those foreboding thoughts as she arrived at the door to the queen regent’s room. Tylan would have her own agenda, and Lydia didn’t have time to worry on Taelien’s behalf at the moment.

The guards abandoned her at the door, presumably having only been ordered to escort her that far. Lydia knocked politely. It was hardly her first time visiting the queen regent, but she hadn’t been back to the high palace in several months.

“Come in, dear,” came Tylan’s voice from inside. Lydia twisted the door handle and stepped in, sweeping her sword out of the way to prevent it from knocking against the wood.

The queen regent was sitting in a large chair behind her work desk, inspecting the top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. Her garb was simple gray and white, her face marred by many years of worry lines. If Lydia didn’t know the woman, she might have assumed her to be a secretary, rather than the current ruler of the kingdom.

The chamber was simple enough, with broad curtains blocking out the light from the single window and a lit fireplace in the corner providing the only major source of illumination. Three other chairs sat opposite the queen regent, but none of them were currently occupied.

A quick glance from side-to-side told Lydia that there was no one else in the room – at least no one else that was visible. Her instincts told her to check for hidden attackers, but tact overruled her uneasiness. Casting a spell immediately on entering would probably come across as both rude and paranoid.

“Queen Regent,” Lydia said politely, bringing her right hand into a salute.

“Close the door behind you,” the queen regent said, waving a hand.

Lydia turned and closed the door, feeling even more isolated.

“Come sit down.”

Lydia followed the order quickly, taking a seat in the center of the three chairs across from the queen regent. Tylan looked up immediately as Lydia sat, shifting her stacks of paper aside and looking straight at the sorceress.

“I have a task for you, Lydia,” Tylan said, steepling her fingers on the table.

Lydia nodded.
An odd time to ask for something, but not that strange, I suppose. She’s given me orders before.
“What do you need?”

The queen regent reached to another pile of papers on the table, split the stack, and immediately retrieved a paper from the top. She flipped it around to face Lydia and passed it across the table.

“There’s a caravan leaving the city in two hours. They’ll be waiting at the address at the top of that page. You’re to hand that paper over to the captain of the caravan’s guards, Korin Matthews. You’ll note my seal at the bottom.”

Lydia quickly glanced over the page, noting a wax seal at the bottom with the symbol of a harp. The page instructed that Lydia was to take command over the caravan in the case of attacks by enemy sorcerers. She looked back up at the queen quizzically.

“Problem?” the queen regent asked.

“No, queen regent. Why are you expecting an attack on the caravan by sorcerers?” Lydia rested her hands in her lap, contemplating.

“There have been some peculiar rumors about foreign sorcerers working within the city. Your presence will merely be a precaution,” the queen regent said with a soft smile.

Foreign sorcerers? Wait, are those rumors about me? Or Jonan, perhaps?

“May I bring some additional support with me, in that case? Court Sorcerer Veruden, perhaps?”

Tylan shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure you’ll be quite capable of handling any incidents by yourself.”

Lydia allowed herself to frown. “And the caravan is leaving in two hours? I’ll barely have the time to make it to the gate by then.”

“You’d better get running, then. Is there anything else?”

Lydia read over the paper again. “It doesn’t say anything about what this caravan is carrying.”

“No,” the queen regent replied. “It doesn’t. There are six wagons. Their cargo is all very valuable. The third wagon from the front is carrying an ambassador from Selyr. The caravan is his. He needs to leave immediately, and he needs to survive the journey to Coldridge. Once you get him there, you can return home. Any trouble should occur before that point.”

The sorceress quirked a brow. “Would you mind divulging the source of these ‘rumors’? It might help give me some context for making the necessary defensive preparations.”

The queen regent waved a hand dismissively. “I have my resources, dear. Just be careful. I wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to you.”

“Thank you,” Lydia said, trying to sound as sincere as possible.
Sometimes I hate this job.

Lydia pressed a newly-written note against the mirror in her pouch.
Away on queen’s business for a few days,
it said. With business attended to, she followed the queen regent’s directions to the location of the caravan.

“Korin Matthews?” Lydia inquired, noting a man in front of the caravan wearing a gold-trimmed silver breastplate. He was shorter than most of the Queensguard, but he looked very athletic, and he wore a flanged mace on his left hip.

“That’s me,” he said, turning around toward her. He looked startled when he faced her, taking a step back. “A sorceress? What can I help you with?”

“Looks like I’m coming along with you for the ride,” she said, handing him the wax-sealed letter.

“Huh,” he said, reading it over. “I hadn’t heard anything about this, but I’m not one to argue with a sorceress. Or the queen, of course. ‘Sorcerous support’? What’s that mean, precisely?”

She leaned over to whisper to him, “Means we’re probably going to be attacked. Possibly by another sorcerer, actually. Keep three eyes open, yeah?”

He leaned back and nodded to her solemnly. “You can count on me, miss sorceress. Let me go tell the other guards.”

She snagged his arm as he turned to leave. “Just keep it discrete. I don’t want the civilians hearing about it.”

Korin raised an eyebrow. “Not sure I see the sense in that.”

She leaned in again. “I don’t want anyone to panic, and if the sorcerer is among the people within the wagons, I don’t want him to know that we’re aware he might be attacking us soon.”

He nodded solemnly and put a hand on the arm that she had used to seize him. “Not to worry, miss. I’ll use the utmost discretion.”

“May I inspect the wagons?” Lydia asked.

He shook his head. “Guess you haven’t heard yet. Our orders are not to disturb anyone inside those wagons, for any reason. Important ambassadors or some such. Like to keep to themselves.”

Ambassadors...And the queen said an ambassador from Selyr... Does she mean Rethri ambassadors?

Oh, gods, are we shipping prisoners?

“No problem,” Lydia said brightly. “I’ll look forward to working with you and your men.”

“Thanks,” he said, pulling his arm away. “I need to get back to work.”

“One last thing,” she said. “Hand that arm back.”

He raised an eyebrow quizzically, and then handed his arm back over silently. She took his hand.

“Dominion of Protection, fold against his skin.”

A shimmering field of translucent energy enveloped his body for just an instant, and then faded into invisibility.

“Uh, thanks?”

“A precaution, is all. Hopefully it won’t turn out to be necessary,” Lydia smiled. “Now, let’s get this caravan ready to go, shall we?”

Night had fallen before the caravan exited the city gates. They were only about an hour behind schedule, which was good by caravan standards, at least in Lydia’s experience. It helped that none of the inhabitants of the five front wagons ever entered or exited their enclosures. Only the people riding in the rear wagon – a few civilians unassociated with the rest of the caravan – came out to finish packing their goods or carouse with the guards.

“Why are there civilians in the last wagon?” Lydia asked.

Korin shrugged. “Until you came by, we weren’t aware there was anything unusual about this escort. Although, to be fair, I’m not usually put on caravan guard duty. Lord Esslemont insisted on coming along with us, since he’s heading the same direction we are and he wanted protection. I wasn’t in a position to argue.”

“Why would someone want to leave the city in the middle of the night?” Lydia pondered aloud.

“It’s not really that unusual, miss, especially during the warmer months. It’s possible they just didn’t want to deal with the heat, or perhaps they just had final preparations to make during dawnfire hours.”

Lydia nodded. “That might be right. Thanks for the reassurance.”

Korin gave her a half-salute and went back to organizing.

The wagon drivers were all members of Korin’s guard, which somewhat unusual, but not unheard of. They seemed well-trained, but nervous – probably because Korin’s “trusted few” guards had spread the word of a potential attack to all the others. If the attacker was already traveling with the caravan – a possibility that Lydia had considered – this heightened sense of nervousness might have put the attacker on alert as well. Lydia had judged that warning the guards was worth the risk, but the ambiguity of the situation left a foul taste in her mouth.

She’d need to react, rather than taking the aggressors out in advance. She hated operating that way – though it would hardly be the first time she’d been forced into that situation. She knew to take precautions for the contingencies she was capable of planning for.

“Dominion of Protection, fold against my skin and teach me the secrets of the Dominions that assault you.”

Lydia renewed the Comprehensive Barrier that protected her just as the front wagon began to move. The spell sent a tiny tingle along her skin, causing her to shiver for just a moment.

Can’t cast too many more of these today or I’m going to be useless for days.
Protection spells drew from the body’s natural ability to ward off harm. Practicing protection sorcery often ended with Lydia sick in bed or nursing stubborn bruises that appeared from the even a mild brush with anything particularly solid.    

She’d marched along with the wagons, alongside three regular soldiers and Korin. He’d offered her a place to sit alongside any one of the caravan guards, but she’d declined. Coldridge was a long walk – over a day away, at a caravan’s pace – but she didn’t trust her perception to be as good while riding. This way, she could periodically walk by each of the wagons to check for disturbances.

The wagons made it out of the city without incident, as she’d expected. She had Korin list out the names of the guards with her, but none of them struck her as particularly suspicious. She’d met a handful of them from work at one of the two palaces, but she didn’t know any of them particularly well.

Korin himself seemed friendly enough. His anxiousness faded a bit as they made it into the open air of the wooded trail outside the city, winding toward the north west.

If I was a renegade sorcerer, when would I choose to attack a caravan on the way to Coldridge?

Lydia pondered that question inconclusively, but it led her to a more important one.
Why would someone be attacking this caravan in the first place?

She let herself fall back to the second to the last wagon, taking a slow pace as she considered her options.
They’ve been very insistent that no one go inside the other wagons. Someone has to have seen them loaded, though. Maybe I can get one of the guards to talk.

Then again, if someone along the caravan is going to help coordinate the attack, I don’t want to arouse their awareness of my awareness. Hrm.

One of the guards driving the wagon noticed her and gave a little wave. She waved back, giving him a friendly nod, and turned her head back to the road.

If only I could see inside the wagon without going in there.

Like what Jonan did with the door to his house.

I wonder...

She glanced at the door side of the wagon, and then let herself fall behind a little further, out of the sight of any of the guards.