“... There’s just
one
last reassurance we need,” the gray-haired scholar hedged, tucking his hands back together on top of the council table.
To his credit, the impostor Stelled didn’t scream or growl or flinch at the last-minute gambit. He didn’t even roll his eyes, let alone sigh. “And what reassurance would that be, milord?”
The Chief Dean unfolded his hands and held them out to either side. His fellow council members clasped hands, forming a chain around the table ... and a silvery white shield around the impostor. Power flared up, obscuring the man for a moment, then died down low enough that they could see him from the knees up, though from the knees down, the brilliant glow remained, locking him in place with far more magic than most mages could overcome on their own.
That
was Ellett’s cue. Stepping into the light cast by the chandelier of lightglobes overhead, he let the impostor get a good look at his one set of formal robes. The inner two layers of golden and lavender silk matched the golden patches appliquéd on the outermost violet layer, patches that echoed the gilding, and the function, of the enchanted armor he had left back in Aurul. While the silk wouldn’t do as much to stop a purely physical blow, it was the look of his clothes that mattered.
From the widening of those hazel eyes, Ellett knew the impostor recognized the distinct design of his garments, marking him as a member of the Aurulan Royal Guard.
He smiled. “The council would love to know how a very
dead
man can claim to still be alive.”
The false alchemist twisted a ring on his finger ... then paled when nothing happened. He twisted it again, then looked up at the air. The Chief Dean and his fellow Jettans dropped their hands, though their binding shield remained firmly in place.
“Don’t bother looking to your cohorts for rescue, ‘Lord.’ This entire room has been warded against mirror-Gate travel. As we speak, the university’s top magecraft students are working to trace the origin points of any and all scryings upon this building, and specifically centered around your person.” The Chief Dean smiled. “They have been told it is an extra-credit project which will affect their grades for this semester. Naturally, they are being rather diligent in the matter.”
Scraping back his chair, the stout, gray-clad Dean rose, squared his shoulders, and clapped his hands together. A murmured spell released a sparkling green globe of energy. It zoomed forward, penetrated the shields holding the impostor in place, and impacted on the other man’s chest.
The magic vanished inside his body even as the impostor clutched at his robes. An odd look came over his face, not quite bulging his eyes, then the man belched loudly. Green gas issued from his mouth, hovered in midair for a moment, then formed misty lettering in the Jettan alphabet.
Thanks to his sip of Ultra Tongue years ago—a necessary expense for the Royal Guard, so that they could overhear any possible plotting in foreign languages—Ellett could read the characters that formed. Not that there was much to it, just a single word which identified the other man’s nationality.
Haidan
.
“It figures,” he heard Mita muttering in disgust. She raised her voice slightly. “You were correct in your assessment of the situation, Mage-Captain. Jetta Freeport wishes to apologize to the Aurulan government for all the troubles that were caused when we fell for the lies of these Haidan scum.”
“As it is said, so shall it be written. Thus it is proved, and so shall it be,” Ellett replied philosophically, ritually. He folded his arms in their hip-length sleeves and shrugged, keeping his gaze on the mage caught in their extraordinary shield. “Had our God wished it otherwise, this matter would have been cleared up a lot sooner. The Eyes of Ruul can pierce all disguises and see even into the very heart of darkness. But I have faith there is some greater good to be found in unveiling these matters here and now, rather than earlier or later. We need only grasp it, as
true
allies, and turn this would-be disaster into an advantage for both sides.”
“Well spoken, good Captain,” the Dean of Spellsmithing stated, rising from his spot at the large, nearly circular table. He fetched a casket from the floor, opened it, and fished out a set of what looked like silk-wrapped manacles. Ellett didn’t have to actually see the metal to know it would be engraved with anti-magic wards. “We’ll make sure there’s enough left of him and his accomplices so that
some
of them, at least, will be available to face Aurulan justice. Once we’re done exacting our pound of restitution, of course.”
“As I told Captain Mita and some of the other members of your council, my people will be happy to let your people go first,” he allowed, bowing politely to the men and women ringing the room. “My only request is that you consider the possibility of teaching
our
mages such finely crafted spells. I didn’t even know there
was
a spell that could force a man to literally belch his true allegiances.”
The Chief Dean chuckled. “It’s a rather popular one among our students, since it can be crafted to belch out any manner of truths regarding its impacted target.”
The sour look on the false Stelled’s face amused Ellett to no end.
Unmasked by the equivalent of a student’s prank, of all things.
That
has to sting the impostor’s pride.
Looking pretty wasn’t easy, anymore. As attentive as he was to his duties, Ellett couldn’t wait for his day to be over. Only at night, when His Majesty and Her Highness had retired for the evening, could the Mage-Captain set aside his vigilance and do what he longed to do: Contact Mita on the linked scrying mirrors they had bought back before he had left Jetta Freeport.
Today was even worse. Mita told him that her ship,
Jetta’s Pride
, had been elected to escort the newly appointed ambassador to the docks of the winter palace. They had barely settled into the winter palace a handful of days ago when she had scryed him through the mirror with the news that the Jettan council had finally selected a representative to send to the Seer King’s court. Apparently there had been quite some difficulty between what the council thought was an appropriate representative and what His Majesty preferred. Ellett hadn’t been privy to those discussions, so he hadn’t been able to advise her on what Devin, or perhaps Ruul, wanted to see.
But she’s finally coming. She said last night she thought it might be possible for them to arrive sometime today, even though she wasn’t quite sure
when
.
He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder, through the glass walls of the Vaulted Chapel. All he would see would be the royal gardens, more of the royal gardens, a bit of the palace walls ... and nothing of the sea from his position near the holy dais. No tall black masts, no crisp white sails, nothing of the
Pride
.
A palace servant approached along the outer wall. Ellett eyed the cream-and-purple-clad man, gauging him for unusual or furtive behavior, a possible disguise, or anything else that could hint at a threat to his king. Or to the king’s staff, for the man whispered something in Master Souder’s ear. The Master of the Royal Retreat waited until the Seer King lifted his hands from the shoulders of the youth brought before him for a chance at prophesying his future, then lifted a couple fingers, subtly signaling his liege.
Devin nodded slightly, finished what few words he had to give to the barely pubescent boy and his proud-beaming mother, and dismissed them with a bow of his head. As they backed up the aisle and turned to leave, the Seer King raised his hand and his voice.
“There will be a brief pause in the afternoon’s viewings and blessings of our youth. We have received word that the ambassador of the Jettan Freeholders has finally arrived. We wish to receive their delegation at this time. Please extend all due courtesy to our honored guests.”
Ellett felt his heart skip a beat. His stomach tightened with the hope that Mita would be among the delegates escorting their ambassador into the glass-walled, marble-vaulted hall. Firmly, he reminded himself that now was not the time to let his vigilance slack, and peered over the heads of the seated families waiting to petition their king for a glimpse at their children’s futures.
The sight of an armed, armored redhead descending the stairs to the chapel doors, accompanied by two equally armed and armored gentlemen, both thrilled and dismayed him. But they stopped on the landing above the last set of steps and carefully removed their weapons, setting them on the carpeted floor. It wasn’t the first time that armed dignitaries had done the same, so someone must have instructed them in the proper protocols.
A pair of servants opened the great glass doors and the trio strode inside. Ellett watched them approach, drinking in the sight of Captain Mita. Her hair was a little bit longer—the mirrors they used were small and thus didn’t always show head and shoulders—and she had pulled it back in a braid, perhaps in deference to Aurulan fashion. Other than that, she didn’t look much different than the last time he had seen her in person, which was when she had personally delivered him to Aurul a few months ago. As for the last time he had seen her in a mirror ... well, she was fully clothed this time.
She gave one of her broad, charming smiles to the Seer King and bowed, as did the two men accompanying her. “Greetings, Your Majesty. I am Ambassador Mita of the Jettan Freeholders, and these are my assistants, Kulden of the Mage’s Academy, and Reltor of the Merchant’s League.”
Each of the gentlemen bowed in turn. Ellett forced himself to assess them for potential threats, but it was hard to concentrate, given the news she had dropped into his lap.
Ambassador Mita? She never told me that
she
was the new ambassador! And she never said anything about giving up her career as a ship’s captain.
Devin nodded and made the necessary speeches of welcome and introduction. Struggling to pay attention, Ellett blinked twice and moved belatedly when His Majesty beckoned
him
forward.
“... Mage-Captain Ellett will personally show you to your ambassadorial suite. I place you in his very capable hands. Captain,” Devin added, giving his stunned Guardsman a slight smile, “I trust you will show her everything she wishes to know about her life here?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Bowing, he gestured for the trio to retreat back up the carpeted aisle. It was unusual for a Royal Guard to be given this sort of duty. Even more so for their leader. He didn’t protest, however. Not when it allowed him to walk out of the massive, glass-roofed chapel at her side.
They paused at the landing to pick up their weapons. Sheathing her daggers, Mita grinned at him. “Surprise! ... I hope you don’t mind I kept it a secret?”
“I might have, if I weren’t
very
happy to see you at the same time,” Ellett confessed, then reined in his enthusiasm, glancing quickly at the two Jettan men flanking her. Mindful of his duty, he gestured at the doors leading back into the palace proper. “This way, if you please. We’ve set aside a suite for you. Hopefully it should be large enough for your needs.”
She nodded and walked beside him, the other two following, as he led the way. Ellett filled the time with a discussion of various palace amenities and points of interest, then gave them a tour of the multiple-room suite. He added plenty of information which would be of interest to the mage and the merchant accompanying Mita, but most of his attention circled around the woman at his side. Once the other two men were settled in their bedchambers and she had been shown to hers, alone with him, he found himself feeling a bit awkward.
Mita cured that feeling as quickly as the time it took her to remove her ornate armor. The moment the tooled leggings were dropped onto a chair, she turned and caught him in a hug. His own armor got in the way, but he didn’t care. Nor did she. Snuggling her cheek on his shoulder guard, she peeked up at him.
“I hope you don’t mind?”
“The hug?” he asked. At her nod, he dropped a kiss on her brow. “I can’t think of anything I wanted more. At least, while I’m wearing armor. And on duty.”
She chuckled. “Yes, your duty. And mine, too. The council was rather dubious over His Majesty’s insistence that
I
be the ambassador. I was, too, at first. But then the more time passed, the more I missed you. Mirror-chats are good and all, but ...”
“But not enough,” he agreed. “I didn’t ask for you to be the ambassador. I know how much you enjoy sailing.”
“And I couldn’t ask you to give up your job. It’s slightly more important than mine. Peany’s the new captain,” she added. “Jukol was offered the First Officer position, but he says he likes ordering around the crew too much to give up being a bo’sun just yet, so they promoted a Second Officer from another ship to serve under Peany. As for myself, I’m still a commodore of the fleet. I heard you have pleasure-boats, both here and at some lake up near your winter palace. If I ever get the urge to go sailing, I could always commandeer one.”
He grinned. “Just so long as you don’t turn privateer on His Majesty’s lake.”
“Oh, there’s no worry of that. I just got my hands on the only booty I really want.”
Her words, and the pat of her hand in a pertinent place, warmed him from the inside out. Devin’s instructions floated through his mind. “So ... I’m supposed to show you everything you wish to know about your life here. Is there anything you’re wishing for, right now?”
“Well, aside from the wish that you weren’t on duty—which I know you take very seriously,” she reassured him, “—I’d love to know is if it would cause difficulties between our peoples if the Ambassador of Jetta Freeport was caught sneaking into the quarters of the Captain of the Royal Guard?”
He mulled that over, enjoying the feel and the scent and the sight of her in his arms. Whether or not the Seer King’s prophecy
meant
for this to happen didn’t matter. It had, and he intended to capitalize on it. “They
might
be more forgiving if, say, the Jettan Ambassador and the Mage-Captain had something of a formal agreement between them regarding such things.”