In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) (6 page)

“Now just hold on, h―” Maelgyn suddenly found his jaw magically clamped shut, unable to say anything.

“Shh,” she hushed, ‘smiling’ once again. “Later. Nap, now.”

His jaw was released from whatever hold she had over it, but he didn’t say anything. After all, it was pretty obvious she wasn’t going to answer any more questions – or let
him
say much of anything else, either -- until they were on the other side of the river.

He looked at her and shrugged. He wouldn’t have thought a ferry across this small river would take long enough to have a decent nap, but she wasn’t the only one who seemed to be settling in for a lengthy trip.

Oh, well,
Maelgyn thought.
I suppose I could use the break.

Despite taking more time than Maelgyn had expected, the trip across the river went a lot smoother than he feared. Even the animals were content, and it was notoriously difficult to keep horses, or animals of any kind, happy on a river trip. Maelgyn vaguely wondered if the girl, whose magic impressed him more and more as he watched her use it, had anything to do with the boat’s ease of motion. He doubted she’d give him a straight answer – or any answer – but he wouldn’t have been surprised either way.

When they were finally anchored on the other side of the river, she couldn’t seem to leave the boat fast enough. She seemed to be stumbling quite a bit as she went, but once she was ashore her balance was restored and she relaxed. Finally, she opened the same pouch she had collected the nickel dust in earlier, and released it into another magical whirlwind around her. Nodding at Maelgyn as he left the boat, himself, she proceeded to follow him as he collected his horses and made his way through town.

“Have you ever been here, before?” he asked.

“Once or twice,” she answered, smirking as if she’d just told the most amusing joke she could imagine.

“Know where a good inn is? It’ll be dark before too long, and I’d like a good meal to go with my room.”

“Yeah,” she said, and then started walking. He shrugged, and started following her. She seemed to be doing well as a guide, so far, although she was still a bit of a curiosity.

“Um, Euleilla, can I ask you something?” Maelgyn finally said. “Or rather, several somethings? There are a lot of things I’d like an answer on.”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

“Well,” he hesitated. Which question to ask her first? “I guess to start with I’d like to know how you got so powerful in magic. I’ve never seen the like! Who trained you, may I ask?”

“Mmm, not saying,” she said after some consideration.

That threw Maelgyn off his train of thought. “What? Why not?”

“Bad memories,” she explained, not going into detail.

That threw him off. “Right. Then... um, hm.”
If she won’t answer that,
Maelgyn wondered,
what will she answer?
“Where’d you get all the armor? Not many women outside of noble families wear armor, and most noble families in Svieda supply their children with something heavier than leather.”

“Pants were papa’s,” she explained. “Had ‘em altered. Made the top.”

Again, that didn’t answer the question he really wanted to know. “Why? Are you planning to be a soldier or something?”

At that, she broke out laughing. There was no explanation given for her laughter, but obviously the suggestion of her as a soldier was what caused it. Finally, when she caught her breath, she answered, “No.”

This,
Maelgyn realized,
is getting me absolutely nowhere. Oh, well, I have more important things to worry about than this madwoman, and I’d better start thinking about them. Maybe, when this war is over, I’ll come back here and see if I can ever get a straight answer from this Euleilla girl. Like just who she really is....

“How far away is this inn?” he asked instead.

“Close,” she answered, the ‘smile’ back on her face. She gestured ahead with her thumb.

He blinked, and then looked around at the buildings lining the street. Sure enough, about a hundred yards away, a building advertising itself as the “Left Foot Inn” stood.

“Left Foot Inn,” Maelgyn mused. “Weird name.”

“The owner lost his right foot in the Borden Isle War,” Euleilla explained, startling Maelgyn.

“Did he, now?” He was more surprised that the girl gave him a complete answer – and to an unasked question – then he was that the owner had lost his foot in the wars. That would have been interesting in itself. Most wounded veterans of that war were given a pension and some simple job, not left to fend for themselves at some inn in the middle of nowhere. A few people had managed to slip through the cracks, of course, but in general Svieda kept track even of those who refused employment. There was no mention in the papers Wybert had given him of any innkeepers along this river who were veterans of a former war.

Nevertheless, a hot meal was his goal, not sorting out people who were pretending they were war heroes or mysterious girls who wouldn’t give a straight answer unless it was to an unasked question. Following the girl in question, he handed his horse’s reins to a young man taking the role of the inn’s porter and stepped inside. To his surprise, the owner of the place greeted the two of them quite enthusiastically.

“Euly! I didn’t know you were going to be back today,” he cried, getting up on a peg leg.

The old man threw his arms around her in a fatherly hug. “You could stand to put some meat on those bones, but you look healthy enough for a girl that’s been out of town for a few months. Did you ever find a guide for crossing the mountains?”

“Him,” she said, jerking her thumb at Maelgyn. That startled him, for he hadn’t agreed to anything as far as he knew. In fact, he hadn’t thought he would be seeing her after getting to the ferry. Apparently, however, when she said she was following Maelgyn she wasn’t kidding.

The old soldier looked Maelgyn up and down. “Well, I guess you’ll do, sonny.”

It was then Maelgyn knew the man was exactly the veteran Euleilla claimed. Maelgyn had seen a portrait in Largo Castle dedicated to him. It had been commissioned as an apology, of sorts, for the actions of a previous, particularly boorish Sword of the realm. That Sword had unceremoniously dismissed four heroes from the early stages of the war, claiming their war injuries made them “unusable” whatever their past actions. When that Sword was later deposed, three of these heroes had been found, their pensions restored and their status acknowledged with peerages and similar rewards. The fourth was believed to have been dead, but that had never been confirmed.

“Admiral Ruznak?”

The old man’s eyes widened. “It’s been a long time since anyone recognized me for my military service, boy, but I was never more than a captain.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken there, sir,” Maelgyn noted. “Sword Prince Alphor, Prince Wybert’s father and predecessor, promoted you, uh, ‘posthumously’ after a search of the kingdom turned up no trace of you. That was almost fifty years ago, sir.”

“Heh,” Ruznak snorted. “I ain’t dead, yet.”

“They thought you were,” Maelgyn replied. “But the promotion is valid, nonetheless. What Sword Pennyweaver did to you and the other veterans in the war was a travesty, sir, but upon his death his successors and the other Swords in the kingdom did everything they could to make it up to you.”

“Bygones, sir, just bygones,” Ruznak laughed bitterly. “Pennyweaver was a louse, but I knew most of the rest of his kin were good enough folk. That’s why I fought for them in the first place.” The old soldier’s stare became even more penetrating. “So, what can an old innkeeper like me be doing for a Sword of the Realm, my boy?”

Maelgyn blinked in surprise. “How did you...”

Once again, Ruznak laughed – this time a much happier sound. “Let’s just say you strongly resemble a certain ancestor of yours I was once proud to call a friend and leave it at that. Now, on to business. Since my little Euly here says you’re going to take her to Sopan, I’m guessing you’re young Maelgyn. I’ve heard a few rumors about a new war here and there, but I’m afraid this sleepy little town doesn’t get much more than rumors. What say, while my cook fixes you both a meal, you tell me a bit about what’s been happening?”

“Certainly, sir!” Maelgyn stammered. Somehow, Ruznak seemed to have been a step ahead of him from the moment he walked in the door... a trait the man seemed to share with Euleilla, although in a decidedly different way. Ruznak was startlingly up-front, while the girl was astoundingly evasive. Which made something Ruznak said pop into his mind. “Is Euleilla your daughter... or, rather, granddaughter, sir?”

“My daughter?” Ruznak repeated, sounding just mildly surprised. “Why, no. That is to say, I’ve sired no children of my own. However, there are quite a few orphans who I’ve helped on their way, and she’s one of them. When my late wife proved to be barren, raising some of the less fortunate children made her feel better. I haven’t been too distressed at the idea of continuing that tradition now that she’s passed. Most of the other orphans – or their children, since we’ve been doing this for almost thirty years, now – work here as waitresses, maids, cooks, etc. Euleilla, though, was always a special one. She went out on her own a few months ago, like many children do when leaving their parents, to sell some of her trinkets for the journey ahead. I’m not quite sure what that makes me, though... what am I to you, anyway, girl?”

“Gramps,” she chirped cheekily.

“Gramps, eh?” he laughed. “Well, I suppose that fits. I’m old enough, that’s for sure. Okay, Euly, why don’t you head on back to your room and freshen up while I deal with your ‘guide,’ here.”

“‘Kay,” she said, ‘smiling,’ and quickly swooped into one of the back rooms.

“Now, Sword Maelgyn, how about that talk?” Ruznak said, narrowing his eyes at the young man.

There was something dangerous in that stare, and Maelgyn began to understand just why he’d been so successful as a naval captain. “Yes, I suppose we’ll just have it.”

“Now, why are you taking this land route to Sopan, unescorted even, and not traveling by ship?” Ruznak asked, leading them to a table. Moments later a young maid, probably one of Ruznak’s other adopted children, showed up with two cups of some steaming beverage, which she promptly set down in front of the two men before leaving.

“The journey by sea is too dangerous. I’m leaving behind the escorts to make my journey more low-key.” Maelgyn took a sip of his drink, and widened his eyes in surprise. “That’s pretty good. What is this?”

“A sweet tea sold by the Dwarves. If you stop at any of the Dwarven settlements on your trip through Mar’Tok, you’ll probably want to order that over anything else they’ll have. It’s called Mo’kah tea. It’s the only non-alcoholic drink I think they’ve got, and their liquors are too strong for most humans.”

The young prince tried to remember if there was any note of that in his papers, but couldn’t think of any. “I’ll keep that in mind, even if this tastes like no tea I’ve ever had, but on to business. What do you know about the war so far?”

“A few rumors and little else. I know the king was assassinated, and that it appears we’re at war with our former ‘allies,’” Ruznak spat. “I never liked the Sho’Curlas. I always suspected they were the ones who convinced Sword Prince Elaneth to take the Borden Isles into rebellion, and were the ones who provided the rebels with the funds and arms to fight us.”

“Well, your guess is probably correct, and so is what you know,” Maelgyn said. “Prince Hussack and his son, Prince Mussack, killed Gilbereth right before my eyes, demanding the surrender of my province in order to prevent an invasion. Gilbereth had refused, and so... well, none of us knew Hussack was a mage, and a powerful one at that. Even guardian-sized Lodestones didn’t seem to matter, and he actually took the throne room and it seems he held it until the Sho’Curlas army showed up to rescue him.”

“You should still have been able to leave by ship, though... unless they’ve already swept the coast? They had no navy, as I recall.”

“Until recently they didn’t. Lots of factors, including the weather, made sea travel too risky for me to leave from Happaso or Glorest. By the time I got to Largo, it became obvious that I couldn’t leave by sea. Sho’Curlas has essentially annexed the City-State of Oden by ‘treaty,’ which means its entire navy was made available to our enemies. They’ve already wiped out the fleet in Largo and established a blockade around our major ports. The naval detachment at Sopan should be enough to break them, once it can be mobilized, but until then naval travel is unsafe.”

“Hm,” Ruznak frowned. “What other information about the tactical situation do we have?”

“Well, we know that Sho’Curlas fully secured its eastern border in the months before this invasion. Sycanth was taken before they could put up any kind of advance, and Svieda castle fell not too long ago. Our enemy’s armies hadn’t moved on after taking Svieda Castle, last I heard, and likely will be met by the combined Glorest-Rubick-Happaso army when they do. Gilbereth implied we had some intelligence suggesting that Sho’Curlas instigated the rebellions of Abindol and the Borden Isle, but I don’t know what it was.”

“I knew it!” Ruznak crowed. “I’ve said it for decades, but no-one believed me. Now, we know for sure... and I have to wonder if it matters, since we’re already at war with them.”