The Consuls of the Vicariate amob-2 Read online

  “Tell me of your home, Lae,” she said, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. “Sorbia, isn’t it?”

  “Nothing to tell, really.”

  She gently swatted his hand. “That can’t be true after what you’ve said. Your sentiments of home obviously run deep.”

  “You’re right.” Laedron shifted his weight. “My homeland is one of rolling grasslands and hills, fertile soil, and tall oaks and hickories. But that’s not what makes it the place to which I am eager to return. To crave those things is for farmers, and stewards of the land we are not.

  On the western coast lies a village called Reven’s Landing, my home and the most serene place I’ve ever known. Gentle beaches, the warmth of the sun on your back most of the year, and all the comforts of our cottage draw me back there when I’m discouraged. I can still taste the redfish we had not long before I left. Those were easier times indeed, those times spent in my small fishing village.”

  “Sounds like a wonderful place, Lae. Your family?”

  “They fled when the war started. The Morcaine mages’ academy was attacked, and Marac brought news that Ma had taken Laren, my sister, with her, but they didn’t tell anyone where they were going. That was probably for the best; no one can seek you out if no one knows where you are.”

  “And your da?”

  “That’s a long story.” Laedron rested his head on his hand.

  “I’d like to learn of him if you don’t mind.”

  “My da was the Bannor, a lower noble and administrator of sorts, to the king, appointed to Reven’s Landing.”

  “Sort of like a mayor?”

  “Somewhat, but he had been given more authority than you might see with a mayor. His name was Wardrick Telpist, and he passed away when I was still very young. If not for the portrait in our house, I would likely have forgotten his face. Ma always said I resembled him, but I couldn’t see it. I always thought I favored her, and most people agreed.”

  “I never knew my mother,” Valyrie said. “She died during childbirth, and Da was left to care for me. When I got old enough to understand, I pitied him for the sacrifices he was forced to make. He gave up everything-his ambitions, his career, and his friends-all so I might have a better life. He took the innkeeper job from my uncle so he could work and care for me at the same time. Things weren’t always well between us, though. I took many of my blessings for granted, and I wasn’t as kind as I should have been at times.”

  “I’m sure he looked past that, Val. Your father must have loved you above all other things in this world.”

  She nodded. “I know, but I have regrets.”

  “Ah, yes. Regret. I know it well, but I move forward. I find a way.”

  “How? You seem to find the path so easily.”

  “It’s never easy, Val. Only quickly done, often as fast as the regrettable decision was made.”

  “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “The how is different for everyone. When the thoughts crop up in my head, I remind myself why I’m doing this, who I’m doing it for. It gets me through it.”

  “My regret is that I never got a chance to tell him ‘I’m sorry.’” Valyrie tightly clasped her hands in her lap, then rubbed them together.

  Laedron nodded. “We rarely get the chances we want. I’m sure our parents understand, though. It’s nice to hear an apology when you’ve been wronged, but they would forgive us, Val.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Why don’t you tell me of your home?” Laedron asked.

  “My home? You’ve seen it.”

  “No, I mean the details. The little things that an outsider might not know or see.”

  She searched her thoughts, then grinned. “I’m happy that Azura was a woman.”

  Laedron tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “This country is a difficult place to live at times, and it favors males over females. The church, the militia, the merchant guilds-all of it is based upon patriarchal hierarchies. If Azura had been a man, we women would likely be forgotten as doers of menial housework and ensuring men always had full bellies.”

  “Ah, I see,” Laedron said. “Nothing wrong with a full belly, but I see your point.”

  “Is Sorbia the same way?”

  “What do you mean? Do we keep women as slaves?”

  “Yes. How are they treated in your homeland?”

  “We’re…” Laedron paused, as if trying to find the right word to use. “I suppose you could call it egalitarian.”

  She gave him a broad smile, and Laedron asked, “What? It means-”

  “I know what it means, Lae-equal, balanced. I like a man who knows his way with words. I am studying to be a lyricist, after all.”

  He swallowed hard, and she detected that familiar awkwardness and fumbling that he had displayed at their first meeting. “Of course. I… um… a lyricist?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course. A composer of tales, a singer of songs.” She raised her hand. “To sing of heroes loved and lost, to speak of things uncommon to lore, and to pen the tales to preserve for posterity.”

  “You’ve got a certain flair for it. Can’t argue with you there.”

  She chuckled. “Of course, my father would hear nothing of it. He wanted me to be a seneschal, a keeper of books in some noble’s house.”

  “Good money in that,” Laedron said, at first with confidence, then his voice trailed off when she glared at him, “…or so I’ve heard.”

  “There’s more to life than gold and silver. I want my riches to be in my words, my wealth to be in the tales I spin, and my happiness to come from my travels and adventures in the wide world.”

  “You remind me of how I used to be years ago.” Laedron crossed his feet and stretched out his legs. “So long ago, when things were different.”

  “Why did you change?”

  “It didn’t take long. When I arrived in Westmarch, the city to the east of my village, and started my training, I changed, little by little. Things that were once exciting seemed more dangerous than they previously had. That danger turned into anxiety, then into fear of what lay ahead on my path.”

  “You got over it, though, didn’t you?” Valyrie asked.

  “Not completely. I’m thankful for the fear, though. Fear lets you know you’re still alive, the same way pain does. If I had been more brazen, I’d likely be dead by now-me and my friends.”

  “It took courage to do what you’ve done.”

  “Courage is easily confused with having the will to do what is necessary. A brave man without fear is simply too foolish to understand the consequences or outcomes. He is a danger to himself and to others.”

  “Whether courageous or strong of will, I’m glad that you held fast to the goal, Lae,” she said, leaning closer. “Above all, I’m grateful that you’ve come here.”

  He dipped his head. “You are?”

  She took his hand in hers again. “Yes, Lae. I…” She paused and looked away. Take a chance or leave it alone?

  “Yes?” Laedron asked. “Please, continue.”

  A chance it is, then. “I have feelings for you, Lae. Feelings that I’ve had since we first met.”

  “Really?” he asked.

  She fought the urge to shake her head. Men truly are blind to matters of the heart. “Yes.”

  “I–I feel the same way.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” she said with a snicker.

  “What?”

  “You couldn’t have been any more obvious.” She smiled.

  He grinned, but then frowned.

  “What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy?”

  “I worry, Val. I… are you sure that you feel this way, or is it something else?”

  “I’m sure, Laedron. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

  He nodded, but he still seemed to have something on his mind.

  “Don’t hide from me. What’s bothering you?”

  “I don’t qui
te know how to put it.” He pulled his hand from hers.

  “Then speak plainly. You’re not going to offend me.”

  “All right.” He took a deep breath. “I only want to make sure that your interest in me isn’t because your father passed.”

  “No, Lae. I’ve felt this way for some time, and I know that you have.”

  His face showed his confusion. “Then, why? Why tell me these things now?”

  “Because you almost died, for one. The first thing that went through my mind was what might have been. I asked myself, ‘Had I talked to him, would things have ended differently?’ I told myself that I wouldn’t let things pass me by any longer. If I ever got the chance, I’d do something about my feelings.” She sighed and reached for his hand. “When they saved you from dying, I decided that I wouldn’t let the opportunity pass again.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing left to say. We’ve said all there is.” She slid off her chair and onto the edge of the bed, then leaned forward. Running her fingers through his hair, she said, “Words shall keep us apart no longer.”

  “I-”

  She raised a finger to his lips. “Relax.” She lowered her hand, then closed her eyes. She tried to take her own advice, but she could feel her heartbeat drumming in her chest. Electrifying chills tingled her fingertips while the heat of a bonfire burned deep within her heart.

  Inching closer and closer, she finally felt her lips connect with his, and the kiss told her volumes about Laedron-of his restraint, his respect for her, and of his desire. That simple kiss said more of the connection they clearly felt for one another, and she was convinced that, despite having kissed others, what she felt was unlike any other she had experienced. Is this love?It can be nothing else.

  She couldn’t help but let out a quiet giggle when she opened her eyes and saw Laedron’s eyes still closed and the expression on his face indicative of the pleasure of the moment. She cleared her throat.

  Opening his eyes, he gave her a wide grin. “That was amazing.”

  She took a deep breath, a smile and a tear coming at the same time.

  “What’s wrong, Val? Do you feel that we’ve made a mistake?” Laedron asked. He reached up and wiped away her tear.

  “No, Lae,” she said, lifting her face to the ceiling. “I never thought that I’d be happy again-that I could be happy. ‘Tis a tear of joy.”

  Laedron wrapped his arms around her. “It’s all right. I’ve felt that way many times, but things get better.”

  She returned the embrace. “Do you think you can walk?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d like to try,” he said, sliding one leg off the bed.

  “If we can make it to the common room, I have a fine soup simmering.” She took his arm to help him walk. Upon reaching the long dining table, she helped him to a seat, then went after the stew. “I hope you like rabbit.”

  “One of my favorites,” Laedron said with a smile.

  16

  A Palace Fit for Soldiers

  Driven to the point of exhaustion, the horses slowed, apparently unable, or unwilling, to press on at the same speed. Night had fallen, and Marac looked up at the endless sea of stars in the cloudless sky. “Peaceful. Only fitting for a night such as this.”

  “A night when we return with hundreds of injured soldiers?” Jurgen asked.

  “At least we’ve saved some, Jurgen. That’s got to count for something.”

  “Of course, but I fear the negotiations we shall face with the Sorbians. What if they demand our surrender? To think, our holy places occupied by foreign troops, our people living under the heel of an occupying army.”

  “You think he’ll demand it?”

  “I don’t know,” Jurgen said. “Anything can happen. He could demand anything, regardless of our acts of kindness and professions of peace.”

  “Whatever the outcome, I’m certain that it will be for the best.”

  “Truly?”

  “At least no one else will die needlessly in the war. At least the lives of the people will be spared. That was our only concern from the onset.”

  “I only hope that you are right.”

  * * *

  Once inside the city, Jurgen led the long procession of wagons to the Vicariate Palace.

  Marac dismounted, gave the reins to a stable hand, and said, “You have our thanks.”

  Marac and Brice helped Jurgen and the other priests unload the injured soldiers from the wagons.

  “Where are they going to stay?” Marac asked.

  “Only the palace would be large enough to house them all.” Jurgen started walking. “I must rouse the steward and have him prepare lodgings for these men.”

  Brice nodded. “What about us? What do we need to do?”

  “Check on our sorcerer friend. He’ll likely be awake by now.” Jurgen turned to climb the palace steps.

  “Well, back to the headquarters, I suppose,” Brice said.

  Marac touched his arm. “Not so quick.”

  “Why not?”

  “Laedron… he could be upset.” Marac stared down at the cobblestones.

  “Upset? About what?”

  “The spell. Jurgen using the soulstone.”

  “Nonsense. He’ll be as pleased as I was. Who could complain about being alive?”

  “You don’t know Laedron as well as I do,” Marac said, shaking his head.

  “That’s silly, Marac. Come on, and don’t worry about that.”

  Reluctantly, Marac followed him through the streets on the way to the Shimmering Dawn. How is he happy all the time? It seems like nothing gets Brice down. Maybe he knows that if Laedron’s mad, it’ll be me taking the brunt of it. Or perhaps he really believes what he says.

  Brice walked in first, and Marac paused before entering the headquarters building. How bad will this be?Might as well get the tongue-lashing over with.

  Marac overheard Laedron ask, “How did it go?”

  “Good, I guess,” Brice replied. “Jurgen summoned all the priests in the city and brought-”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes, from what I could tell. They healed the soldiers and brought them back to the city. Duke Fenric was there, too, and he was alive.”

  Marac crept the rest of the way into the room, trying his best not to be spotted, but he gave himself away when he noticed Laedron’s complexion and hair. “You’re back to normal? But how?”

  “Don’t play stupid, Marac. You know exactly how. Jurgen performed the spell at your request.”

  “No, have you not seen your reflection in a mirror? The gray tips, the wrinkles… they’re gone!”

  Laedron glanced at Valyrie, then back at Marac before struggling to stand. “What do you mean?” He took a metal plate in his hand, angled it with the light, and peered into it. “Creator! How can this be?”

  “Did you not notice these things?” Marac asked.

  “I wasn’t that concerned with my appearance when I awoke.” Laedron tilted the plate and his head, looking at his reflection at different angles. “We need to find out why this is so.”

  Marac relaxed slightly, glad that Laedron didn’t seem to be angry with him. “And how do you suggest we do that, Lae?”

  “By finding someone who knows. Perhaps Victor?”

  “Victor?” Valyrie asked.

  “Victor Altruis, the Shimmering Dawn mage of Westmarch. If anyone’s left who would know, he’d be the one.”

  Marac nodded. “Certainly, but only after our mission is complete here. Jurgen may need us yet.”

  “Then we must go,” Laedron said, returning the plate to the table.

  Valyrie shook her head and took Laedron by the arm. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere. You can’t.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Laedron said, patting her hand. When they exchanged a smile, Marac knew precisely what feelings lay behind it. Perhaps we should’ve left you two alone longer. Looks like the caretaker’s smitten with my boy.
/>   “Let’s be off, then,” Marac said, interrupting the moment. Though it’s nice to see, we can’t wait around all night for them to stop staring at each other.

  * * *

  They reached the Ancient Quarter and heard a commotion from the consulship building. Entering the consul chamber, Laedron stood in awe of its splendor. How many men and how long would it take to build something like this?Surely years and hundreds of workers.

  Jurgen had apparently called the meeting, and the consuls sat silent, staring up at him from the gallery. Few seemed to perceive Laedron and the others enter, but Laedron noticed the blood stains on most of them.

  “Ah, you’ve joined us,” Jurgen said. “Might I present my friends, Laedron Telpist, Marac Reven, Brice Warren, and Valyrie Pembry. Their hard work has helped to bring about the end of Andolis Drakar.”

  Sporadic applause came from the gallery, but it was clear that none of them were in the mood to hand out medals or high praise, and for him, the clapping seemed to be almost a slap in the face compared to the trouble he and his friends had gone through in dealing with such a terrible threat.

  “Might I speak to the assembly?” Laedron asked.

  Jurgen extended his open hand to the floor. “Laedron is a Sorbian,” Jurgen said, garnering a few hisses from the audience, “but he would like to speak with you.”

  “I have heard that you went to save the soldiers you could,” Laedron said, walking to Jurgen’s side, “and you have done the right thing. What have you decided to do, Vicar Jurgen?”

  “Nothing as yet,” he replied. “We can surrender or seek a truce, but we can do neither until Duke Fenric has recovered completely.”

  “Surrender? You’re considering that even now?” a vicar asked, standing in the gallery. He was a younger man, older than Laedron, but not as aged as the other vicars as the average went. “They’ll lay waste to our capital, to our honored traditions!”

  Laedron waited for the gallery to grow quiet. “Andolis Drakar has done more damage than the Sorbian army could ever hope to do. No, your honored traditions and your capital have been besmirched by treachery and lies, and you were led by the nose to this day.”