Thinblade (30 page)

Alexander wasn’t expecting that, but in light of the way it set every noble at the table back on their heels he decided to take full advantage of it.

The room fell silent. All eyes were on Alexander. He did his best to smile graciously before beginning. “At issue is whether the council of Glen Morillian will recognize my claim to the throne of Ruatha.” He remained standing as he unfastened his cloak and handed it to Jack. He wanted to make sure everyone in the room could see the mark burned into the side of his neck. “Please be seated.” He remained standing while the nobles took their seats, all looking somewhat uncomfortable that Alexander did not.

“The world stands on the verge of war. Phane Reishi is loose in the Seven Isles and I have been marked as the one to stand against him. Prince Phane murdered my brother, burned my family home to the ground, sent men and netherworld beasts to hunt me, and he may have murdered my parents.”

The room was deathly silent. Alexander paused and regarded the men seated around the table. He had their attention and they each looked to be taking him quite seriously.

“Phane fled two thousand years into the future to escape Mage Cedric. He has awakened from his long sleep to discover that the Rebel Mage made preparations to defend the world against him even to this very day. I stand at the heart of those preparations. I pledge to you that I will fight with all that I have and all that I am to preserve the Old Law and the people of Ruatha. All the world stands at a crossroads and only two courses lay before you. You can choose to serve the Old Law and stand with me, or you can choose to serve Phane. Choose wisely.”

Alexander didn’t sit but instead turned to Jack and took his cloak. He tossed it over his shoulders and stepped out from in front of his chair. “Warden Alaric, I have need of your assistance. Please have your Second preside over this council’s deliberations.” Without waiting for comment he strode purposefully for the door, followed closely by Jack. Once in the hall and out of earshot of the council room, he stopped to wait for Hanlon.

“How’d I do?” he asked Jack.

Jack smiled, shaking his head in wonder, “I thought you said you were out of your element. What I saw in that room was a king.”

“I hope you weren’t the only one,” Alexander said.

Hanlon came out of the council chamber amid a cacophony of competing voices all vying to be heard over the next. He hurried up to Alexander and Jack with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

“My Second is going to hate you for that. The nobles are all in an uproar but they don’t dare go against you now. None of them can be seen to side with Phane.” Hanlon chuckled and shook his head.

“That’s my hope,” Alexander said with a look of mischief. “Let’s go find Lucky and take a walk down to the catacombs.”

Hanlon led them through the maze of passageways, halls, and corridors that wound through the interior of the palace. Alexander tried to memorize the layout as best he could but it was still new enough that he found himself turned around more often than not.

The more he walked through the palace the more he came to appreciate the construction and decoration. Its grandeur was in the simple, elegant, and functional design, coupled with the fine craftsmanship, polished white marble floors, intricately carved oak furnishings, vividly colored tapestries, rich carpeting, and immaculate cleanliness. There was just enough ornamentation in the public areas to lend that essential air of authority necessary to any seat of power but without the ostentation and aggrandizement so often associated with a palace.

Soon they were walking through the service corridors that gave the palace staff access to every part of the place without having to carry the tools of their trades through the public areas. These passageways were made from simple cut granite and were purely functional. Alexander realized that the service access corridors formed a second set of passages that often paralleled the public halls.

After a convoluted series of twists and turns and a few flights of worn stone stairs, Hanlon came to a stop at a large oak door. He knocked three times before pulling on the heavy iron ring. The hinges creaked and groaned as the oversized door swung open. The room beyond was well lit despite the complete absence of windows. They were in the sub-basement and the air was somewhat stale and musty outside the room but smelled of incense within.

The door opened into a large room sixty feet long and forty feet wide with a high ceiling easily reaching ten feet overhead. The walls were lined with shelves from floor to ceiling and the interior of the room was filled with worktables of varied sizes. Every shelf was filled to the point of overflowing. There were books of all sorts. Some shelves held nothing but volumes with identical leather bindings. Others held all manner of books, tomes, folios, compendiums, and lexicons. Still others were stacked top to bottom with scroll tubes of wood, bone, or finely crafted silver.

The shelves that didn’t hold books were filled with jars, pots, vials, decanters, canisters, bottles, bowls, hoppers, boxes, coffers, bags, and pouches. What was visible within the containers at a glance ranged from powders, ointments, and liquids of various colors and consistencies to leaves, herbs, and barks to eyeballs, feet, and teeth from a dizzying array of simple animals to magical creatures.

The tables that filled the interior of the room were equally occupied with such a variety of items that Alexander could only stare about in a vain effort to catalogue everything he saw. Several of the larger tables were covered with elaborate sets of glass beakers, vials, and basins of all shapes and sizes linked together with an intricate web of glass tubes, funnels, and coils of finely crafted copper piping. Some of the beakers and basins were filled with liquid while others looked to be carefully placed to catch the drippings from the mixture of liquids that ran through the pipes and tubes. A few of the tables were active with a number of small flames beneath a beaker here and a tube there providing the power that caused the entire arrangement to come to life, bubbling and steaming with rivulets of colored liquid running around carefully crafted spirals of clear glass tubing to deposit the product of the entire apparatus into a catch basin or heavy glass jar. Others were set up for processes that had not yet begun while still others had been used recently and were in need of disassembly and cleaning.

There were a few tables stacked with books in large piles of seemingly random placement and height. While still other tables had stacks of parchment, bottles of ink, and writing instruments as well as charcoal, pigments, colored chalk, and paints. One table toward the center stood out because it was slightly lower than the rest, sturdier looking, and perfectly circular. Its surface was completely clear of any of the clutter that was so evident elsewhere. Instead, the surface of the table was polished and smooth and the edge was inlaid with twin rings of gold wire, spaced about seven inches apart. Between the rings of gold was a series of intricate symbols also inlaid in gold.

Beneath most of the tables were cabinets, drawers, cupboards, and lockers. Not one of the tables was lined up with the walls; instead each seemed to be placed almost at random around the room, giving the place a feel of clutter and disarray. Fine crystalline chandeliers hung from the ceiling and tall, heavy brass lamp posts held finely wrought, mirrored oil lamps at uneven intervals all around the room, giving the place ample light.

Across the room directly opposite the door was a large fireplace with a set of five chairs arrayed before it. There were heavy, squat oak end tables separating the chairs; cushioned ottomans before each; and a broad, low table between the chairs and the fire.

Lucky and Mason were lounging comfortably before the well-stoked fire and talking quietly while sipping hot, honeyed tea. They waved when Alexander, Jack, and Hanlon entered the room.

As they threaded their way through the cluttered tables, Alexander did his best to take it all in. The character of the place reminded him of Lucky’s little workshop only on a much larger scale.

Lucky smiled up at Alexander. “I don’t get the chance to discuss the finer points of magic very often so I thought I’d take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Looks like you’d be right at home here,” Alexander said.

Lucky nodded almost wistfully as he looked around at the multitude of experiments and projects that appeared to be in progress all at once. “Indeed,” he whispered before a frown creased his brow with a hint of concern. “Weren’t you going to attend the council meeting this morning?”

“Already done.” Both Hanlon and Jack smiled at that. “I wanted to go have a look at the vault in the catacombs and I was hoping you’d join us. You know a lot more about magic than I do,” he added with a shrug.

“Yes, of course, but I am curious how the council meeting turned out. Perhaps you could fill us in while we finish our tea? We just poured it, after all.” Lucky smiled up at Alexander unabashedly. He was always one for a good meal or a hot beverage and he firmly believed that such important business should never be rushed.

A grin spread across Alexander’s face at his old tutor. “I guess some tea couldn’t hurt.” He took a seat and poured steaming hot tea into one of the fine porcelain, gold-rimmed cups on the silver tea service.

“As for the council, I couldn’t tell you; they’re still deliberating,” he said just before taking his first sip.

Hanlon chuckled, drawing looks from both Mason and Lucky, but it was Jack who explained while Alexander sipped at his tea and sank back into the comfortable chair.

“In just under five minutes, Alexander established his authority and gave the nobles the option of siding with him and the Old Law or siding with Phane. They’re deliberating as we speak.”

Mason nodded thoughtfully. “There is great power in belief. Oftentimes you can force the outcome you desire by framing the question to allow for only two choices, the one you wish and another that is unacceptable. It’s important to understand the converse. Never allow yourself to be limited by such a false choice. The nobles are vulnerable to your tactic because they depend on the opinion of their peers. They won’t dare reframe the question for fear that you will counter with a claim that they have chosen Phane. I’m confident that your ploy will work, but be cautioned, there are liable to be a few of them who will resent you for this.”

“I can live with that as long as I get the support of Glen Morillian. I’m going to need it when I move to unite Ruatha,” Alexander said with his eyes closed.

He was looking ahead. Phane would be working to consolidate his power and build an army. Alexander needed to do the same if he was going to have any chance at all. That meant bringing the disparate rulers of the various Ruathan territories together and forging one kingdom. The room fell silent. When he opened his eyes, everyone was looking at him.

He shrugged, “As long as I have to wear this cursed mark, I’m going to take my duties seriously. The fact is we’re going to need an army, and a big one, if we’re going to have any chance against Phane because I guarantee he’s building one as we speak.”

Alexander finished off his tea before taking a deep breath and getting to his feet. Jack and Hanlon stood with him.

Lucky looked at Mason and sighed before he finished off his tea as well. “The young are always in a hurry,” he muttered as he got to his feet.

Chapter 26

The five of them wound their way down through the catacombs. The ancient corridors hadn’t been used for years. Hanlon could just make out his footprints from the last time he’d been down into the bowels of the palace many years ago. They descended one flight of stairs after another as they made their way through countless crypts, corridors, and burial chambers. Some of the rooms were ornately decorated out of respect for the dead, while others were nothing more than rooms with nooks cut into the walls and filled front to back with bleached bones. Everywhere the dust was thick and the air was musty. The only noise was the echo of their footsteps and their breathing.

They lit their way with three handheld oil lamps from Mason’s workshop, which provided more than enough light for Hanlon to navigate through the seemingly endless maze of passages. After an hour, Alexander became convinced that the only way he could find the way back would be to retrace their footprints in the heavy blanket of powder-fine dust on the floor.

Hanlon stopped abruptly and raised his lamp to take a closer look at the wall. He examined the footprints from the last time he’d been down here and found what he was looking for. He took hold of an empty sconce and pulled it away from the wall. A muffled metallic scraping followed by a click could be heard. He put both hands on the section of wall to the left of the sconce and gave it a shove. At first it didn’t budge, but after a renewed effort a section of the wall about half again as wide as a normal door began to slide inward. The section of wall was made uneven on each side by the interlocking pattern of bricks that separated from their counterparts to the left and right. Once the section moved about a foot back from the wall face, it broke free and swung open on a set of hinges. Hanlon picked up his lantern and raised it to light the small square room beyond.

There was less dust in the unremarkable little room and only one visible exit: a single iron-banded oak door filling an oversized portal with a rounded arch at the top. The door was locked and looked quite sturdy despite long years of disuse.