Nightlord: Shadows (39 page)

“Yes, Sire.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they chorused.

“Get to it. Seldar, a moment, please.”

The rest moved off. Seldar saluted.

“Seldar, see that skinny guy?” I nodded toward Beltar.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“What do you think?”

“I like him. I think he has the makings of a knight, in his heart. It is his flesh that fails him.”

“Glad to hear that. Think you can fix that?”

“I have already begun to do so, Your Majesty,” he assured me. “If you wish to look closely, you will see several spells on him, my copies of the spells you gave to Torvil, Kammen, and I. Do you wish to examine them?”

“Not at the moment. Keep an eye on him. If it looks like our spells are having unintended effects, you let me know instantly, got that?”

“To hear is to obey, O Mighty King.”

“Cut that out and go help everyone.”

They did. Kelvin really knows how to wear someone down. He’s like a sadistic gym teacher without school regulations. It’s terrible to watch. The man is a machine. He had them sweating like squeezed sponges, then he divided them up into teams and had them take turns assaulting Mochara’s canal-side wall again. The city watch wasn’t sure what to make of it—last time, they had warning!—but they quickly got into the spirit of things and defended the wall with considerable zeal.

That was ugly. No fatalities, but a number of cracked or broken bones, with one leg breaking rather messily. I played medic so the rest of them could keep at it. Seldar joined me as a medic fairly quickly; he managed to break his ankle after being thrown from the wall.

Kammen came over to talk to me privately. During one of the ladder assaults, he had lifted a hand to shove the person ahead of him up. That’s when he noticed the candidate was definitely not a man. She pretended not to notice. He pretended it never happened, but came to let me know.

I told him I knew, to keep his mouth shut, and to get back in there. He shut up and went back to trying to climb a wall.

I noticed, with considerable pleasure, that we regularly had people make it over the wall. The simulation ended at the wall, though; they just jogged out the nearest gate to rejoin the assault.

Around midafternoon, Amber and Tianna came out to join the spectators. They obviously didn’t care for the dust, sweat, and blood, but they did make it a point to be helpful to the fallen. Seldar and I already had healing spells on the injured. I was teaching him to work his flesh-welding spells in the right order.

“It’s a question of how serious the problem is. If it’s a blood vessel, handle that first, but always make sure you’ve got the right ones. You mix up a vein and an artery and it’s not going to end well—Oh, hello, Amber, Tianna.”

“Good afternoon,” Amber replied. Tianna gave me a practiced curtsey. “I hear you have a number of wounded in this latest battle for Mochara?”

“Yes. The city guard is a group of violent, dangerous defenders, and their wall is pretty annoying, too. I think we could take the place, given proper preparation. It’s wonderful.”

Amber shook her head in mock sadness and started in on the wounded. She laid hands on them and flooded their systems with living energy. That didn’t weld flesh, but the welded flesh and bone would heal much more quickly and with minimal scarring. It also halted that nasty tendency of the wounded to go into shock.

Tianna also tried to help. Her efforts were less spectacular, but she did have some effect. It was the difference between a river and a drinking fountain, but a drinking fountain is sometimes all you need. I think Amber only brought her out so she could practice.

Amber kept a close eye on Tianna whenever Tianna was working on someone. Twice, Amber interrupted. On those occasions, I smelled smoke. I suspect Tianna doesn’t quite have the fine control to distinguish between life energy and thermal energy; it’s still all a lot of blazing power to her. The fact that she can control it well enough to do only one or the other—at least, usually—is a good thing.

After they laid hands on the wounded, Tianna wanted to be up on Bronze. Amber may have come out to help, but I think Tianna just wanted to ride Bronze again. Maybe to see me, too, a little, but mainly to ride Bronze.

Well, Bronze is definitely prettier.

Tianna stood on Bronze’s shoulders, in front of me, while I sat there and steadied her. She liked being up where she had a view; eight-year-olds aren’t known for their height. Bronze’s mane wrapped around Tianna’s legs and waist, much to Tianna’s delight. With that sort of safety seat, I let Bronze trot around the exercise ground without me. I knew she was as careful as a kid with a basket of eggs.

The lady artist was out again, watching us and scratching at a tablet. I saw her on most days, doing whatever she was doing, but now I wasn’t the one driving the circus. I wandered over to her. She saw me coming, blinked at me a few times, and put her stylus away.

Mental note: paper. Not parchment, not papyrus, not a wooden tablet with a thin layer of wax. Paper. It’s vital to an educated society.

“Good afternoon,” I offered. She nodded. She was dark-haired and wore it long, in a thick braid. Her eyes were pale blue, almost grey, and she looked at me calmly. They probably changed color in different light. I waited, but no reply seemed forthcoming. “And how are you today?” I continued.

“I’m well, thank you.”

More silence. It started to feel awkward.

“I’m Halar,” I added.

“I know.”

“I’ve seen you out here before.”

She smiled and said nothing.

“Okay, I’ve been as polite as I know how, but you’re not helping this conversation along.”

“Should I?” she asked, all innocence. I shifted gears.

“Fine. I’m Halar. Who are you?”

“My name is Tyma.”

“What’s your occupation?”

“I’m a minstrel.”

“Why are you out here?”

“My father wants me to tell him about what’s going on.”

“Who is your father?”

“Minaren.”

I sighed.

“Quizzing you is not my idea of entertainment,” I suggested.

“Then stop.”

“I’m cursed with curiosity.”

“Not my problem,” she said, shrugging.

“I don’t suppose you would just explain yourself?”

“That’s hard to do. I’m a complex person.”

“And a rather literal one, when you choose to be.”

“Yep.” She smiled again.

“Okay. Why are you out here for your father?”

“He asked.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Speculate,” I told her. Her eyes narrowed at me.

“Well, it’s possible that he wants to hear about the doings of the King of Karvalen.”

“Why send you?”

“For one thing, he’s blind.”

“For another?”

“I think he wants me to practice.”

“Practice what?”

“Observing and reporting,” she said. “I’m already better than him at composing music.” She couldn’t help sounding pleased with herself.

“So, you’re an apprentice minstrel, out here gathering information for your blind minstrel father. Have I got that right?”

“Yes.”

“Any particular reason you couldn’t just tell me that?”

“No.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

I turned my back on her and walked away. I heard her take a breath, as though about to call out, but she held the impulse and let me go. I went back over to where Amber was working on someone who had managed to get his elbow twisted.

“Thanks for coming out,” I told Amber. She shrugged.

“I heard you had wounded.”

“I’m really sorry about this morning, in the House—”

“Let us not speak of that now.”

“Okay. Can I apologize again for my side trip to the mountain?”

“Yes.” She paused and I realized she was waiting.

“Um. I’m sorry?”

“Not a very impressive apology,” she said, then smiled a little. “I forgive you. I’m just a bit out or sorts with the thing tonight, and some of the administrative details of Mochara.”

“I’m not sure I can imagine, but I believe you. Anything I can do to help?”

“Are you going to leave Mochara?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can’t—wait, what?” she asked. “You are?”

“Of course. The mountain is a whole city, the capitol of Karvalen. Someone has to be there. I’ll be moving out to it over the next few weeks, maybe months, depending. Might take a bit to get it going—it’s kind of in the middle of nowhere—but rest assured I’ll relocate.”

“Oh,” she said, softly. She looked away from me and seemed lost in thought. We watched the ongoing mayhem for a while and occasionally helped Seldar with a fresh injury. Bronze completed a slow lap and came up beside us again.

“Look, Mom! I’m riding a horse!” Well, she wasn’t wrong. Tianna was lying on her belly along the back of Bronze’s neck. Bronze’s mane was wrapped around her whole body. Tianna held on to Bronze’s ears like handlebars while looking over them.

“I see that,” Amber said. “Well done. Now get down; we’re going inside.”

“Aw, Mom!”

“Now, dear.”

Tianna grumbled under her breath as Bronze’s mane unrolled her to one side and down into my arms. I set her down. They walked back into Mochara, holding hands. Tianna waved from the gate as they went in.

I shook my head. Maybe it was a good thing I wasn’t around to be a father; I might not have any talent for it. And I might have spoiled Amber absolutely rotten. I certainly had that impulse with Tianna, which makes me a fantastic grandfather.

“Seldar, have you got this?” I asked, indicating the assault.

“Yes, O Ruthless One.”

“I’m going to go talk to Tort. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Of course, Your Augustness.”

“I told you to cut that out,” I reminded him. He just grinned at me.

Bronze and I went back to Tort’s house at a trot. People cleared the street and bowed as we went by. Either that’s good sense about not being run over, or respect for the King. Hopefully, good sense.

Once Bronze settled in, I went inside. I wanted a bath and something to eat.

“Ah, there you are,” Tort said, sitting in her floating chair. “Done with Thomen and the guild already?”

“With…? Oh. No, I completely forgot about it. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time.”

Bronze flicked an ear at me when I mounted. Neither of us knew where the wizards’ guildhall was, so I had to ask around. We alternated between a canter and a walk, partly because I had to follow directions, partly because it was daytime and there were a lot of people in the street. Eventually, we found the place. I dismounted and went inside.

My old mentor, Jon, once explained to me why the life of a traveling wizard—and any wizard without a noble patron was going to be a traveling wizard—was so difficult. Not so the life of a citizen of Mochara! Here, wizardry was a respected profession, with or without a patron. It was possible to live pretty well with an endorsement by the guild. The guild decided if you passed muster as a wizard, much like any guild with its members. They also endorsed you for things you were especially good at, such as levitation, magical fires, summoning sailing winds, making it rain, and so on.

The guildhall was a very nice place, mostly mortared stone on the first floor with a timber upper storey. Beyond the front door was an entryway that sucked the mud and dirt from your boots; beyond that, the room had a stone floor covered in rugs. A pair of pretty girls waited until I was out of the entryway and then bowed.

“Good afternoon, sir,” one of them said, eyeing my sword.

“Good afternoon. Is Thomen available?”

“May we ask the nature of your business with the Master of the Guild?” the other asked.

“He asked to see me.”

“Right this way, sir,” the first one said, leading me farther back into the building.

The room was some sort of examination room. Thomen and two other wizards were inspecting a fourth. She was on a sort of couch or divan, or just a padded table; furniture isn’t my strong point. She was probably about five-nine, blonde, with a wide mouth and light grey eyes. Only one of her eyes was light grey; the other eye was shimmering with a sort of opalescent sheen.

“Your Majesty,” Thomen said, stiffly. I waved at the rest to not bother. “I am sorry to have you here for this, but Seretta has a problem.”

“Good afternoon, Seretta,” I said. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“Her left eye, Your Majesty,” said one of the examining wizards. “She was working with a different sort of scrying spell when a magical surge hit it. Now she’s seeing something through that eye and it’s scaring her.”

I blinked at the guy.

“What’s your name?” I asked.