Merchants and Mages (Highmage's Plight Book 2) (29 page)

  Both nodded certain that they had found nothing out of the ordinary.

  “You take this pass. It’s good for two days –– just two... You can renew it at the Lyai’s Station in Lower Town, but that will cost you a quarter gold, or a half silver.”

  “Then I’d best be moving on.”

  She was waved past. Once out of sight, Cle’or muttered ever so quietly,

“Nice trick.”

  Balfour sneezed as Me’oh cradled behind him softly laughed. 

Master Galt and Esperanza entered the city through the gate to the Upper City.  Esperanza was dressed as befitted a lady, attended by her human manservant. Galt maintained the illusion easily enough, keying the city wards with the proper deference. They recognized him as being a member of the Mage Guild, which prided itself on its right to privacy –– too bad he wasn’t a member.

 
The journeyman at the Gate was Academy trained and did not even notice the presence of the elvin-blooded heretic in his midst. Galt wondered what the Empire was coming to if its so proudly trained mages could not recognize one another even under spell guise.

  He would have to see to the posting of a Faeryn apprentice at the Gate. It would be good practice and might shame the Academy–trained to innovate, well, perhaps not. Creativity required a bit more thinking than they had become accustomed to.

  They headed to the nearest inn. He took her hand as the coach came to a stop and led her within. The old woman who ran the place glanced at him ever so briefly, “Milady, welcome to The Butterfly. Your rooms will just take a moment to air out. Do you wish me to send for a messenger to inform your kin of your arrival?”

  Esperanza glanced at Galt, who replied, “That will not be necessary. My lady is not expected until tomorrow, and she is in no hurry to see her kin.”

  “Oh, then perhaps you will appreciate a hot bath after your long journey?”

  Esperanza nodded, “You are most gracious.”

  Galt briefly discussed the price and suitable accommodations were chosen. “Please follow me,” the old woman said.

The water was steaming hot as Galt poured a third bucket into the tub for her. Esperanza knew it was a luxury, but felt embarrassed. They had been given one room, which included a servant’s pallet for Galt, but other than the tub, no amenities –– other than the screen to provide privacy.

 
It was obvious that this place was not considered suitable for humans ––

but only for those with elvin blood, and their servants. She undressed

behind the screen, then slipped into the tub.

  “Galt, this place must be enormously expensive.”

He chuckled, “Nothing is too good for a well–bred lady such as yourself, Milady.”   

  She settled into the warmth and laughed. “I was never that well–bred.”

  He laughed. “Would you care for more water then?”

  She thought about her answer. “No, I’m fine. Save it for yourself.”

  Shaking his head, he replied, “As Milady wishes.”
Too bad.

A Faeryn for Niota

Chapter 50

T
he chamber that the lad led them into looked bright and new, unlike anything Talik had expected. The ogre strode ahead, then casually lifted Thomi into a chair that seemed to be of the same stone as the rest of the keep.

  The lad cleared his throat, “Welcome to Niota, Milord.”

  Amira looked around her and whispered, “The wards are stronger than any I’ve ever felt, even in the Tower.”

  Talik glanced at her in surprise and asked their host as he offered his hand, “If I may?”

  Thomi extended his arm and shook the mage’s hand. The ogre edged protectively closer, but sensed no ill intent. Talik concentrated on the recognition spell and felt it reach out to the boy. After a moment, he released Thomi’s hand, totally perplexed. “No trace.”

  “None?” Amira asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Thomi asked, exasperatedly.

 
“Thomi, I just looked for any trace of elvin ancestry in you.”

  The boy laughed, “I could have told you that. I’m human.”

  “So I, uh, see. Yet, you’ve managed to bring up the wards of this ancient place. That takes great magery.”

  The ogre rasped, “It –– answered –– me...  Not –– Thomi.”

  “You?” Talik muttered.

  “We –– speak –– same –– lang –– lang, tongue.”

  The mage glanced at Amira, who walked up to the ogre and asked, “How did you do it?”

Shrugging, the ogre knew he did not have the words to explain it to

them. “Thomi –– tell.”

  In frustration, they looked to the boy, who seemed particularly ill at ease. “Well, it –– it happened after Raslinn died. You see, his presence made Niota sick. So, Niota kinda went to sleep. When Raslinn was gone, Niota awoke and Walsh could speak to it again.”

  “And just what happened to Lord Raslinn?”

  Thomi swallowed hard. “Uh, he cast a terrible spell, which –– well, I think it ate him...”

Dustin stared at him. “You want me to go to the Lower City and find a healer?  If someone’s hurt, I can more quickly fetch one from the Healer’s Hall!”

 
Galt shook his head, “This healer is an outsider...  He can help those in the Lower City who could never afford one of the Healer’s Hall’s ilk.”

  “But why ask me, Master Galt? Surely you… ”

  “I have other business to attend, lad. We’ve already sent off scores of mages. Now I wish we hadn’t been quite so generous.  And you’ve made friends in the Lower City, I understand.”

  The journeyman swallowed. “Me, Master?”

  Galt looked at him more closely, wondering what the young elfblood had been getting himself into while Talik had been away. “You have earned a very valuable reputation over the years. The people know they can turn to you.  That is an important asset for this task.”

  “Oh,” Dustin replied weakly, glad Galt had not heard of his more recently made reputation. But knew it would not be long. “Of course, Master Galt, I’ll find the healer and let people know they can trust him. That should be easy enough.”
If Terhun does not find me, first.

Cle’or noticed the change in people quickly enough. They had taken lodgings in meager but warm accommodations. Me’oh had told the old tavern keeper that she was a midwife, and her husband, a healer

of uncommon skill.

  If she hoped that would create a proper entry to the society of the Lower City, she was sadly mistaken. Balfour had even gone out seeking ways to help, but people were frightfully mistrustful.

  However, that suddenly changed one afternoon. Mothers with ailing children began appearing at their door. Cle’or looked them over carefully, while Me’oh and Balfour worked at diagnosing their problems. Most were suffering vitamin deficiency, while Me’oh dealt with by first providing important herbs to be added to their morning porridge or tea. She also explained what foods their mothers should buy whenever possible. Each person he saw he accepted the most nominal of payments from, but it was enough to secure their lodging for a few more nights. 

  One child, a girl nearing adolescence, came to see him showing signs of abuse. Her face was black and blue. Her mother would not satisfactorily explain how it happened. “I can heal the bruises,” Balfour told the mother, “but I cannot help her here.” He tapped his head. “Those bruises can alone be addressed by you.”

  The woman shook her head. “We live a hard life. She will do what she must. I cannot help her.”

  The girl winced. A memory came to mind as those same words were shouted at her. She had tried to do what they wanted but –– but just couldn’t! Balfour’s eyes widened, then he squinted at the girl’s mother. “Very well.  Perhaps you don’t believe me or that I really can heal her.” He took a deep breath and concentrated. The bruising on the right side of her face faded away as if it had never been. The left side he left marred. “There. That is all I can do for you today. Tell your husband I would do no more. The price for having a pretty daughter is much higher than he seems willing to pay –– or that others will so readily seek.”

 
Aghast, the mother clutched her child and fled. The other mothers waiting heard his every word and quietly spoke among each other. There would be no talk of the healer being unable to cure the child.

 
The next day, they had people waiting along the hall to see the marvelous healer.

The news of the healer was reported to Terhun. But the most interesting fact was that Dustin had gone down into the Lower City and spoke on their behalf.

 
The young elfblood had never met them. Now, here he was doing them a service. Perhaps, Jeo d’Aere had new friends in the city? But then came word that Hynrik, Archmage Talik’s servant, had spoken at a sudden meeting of the Faeryn.

 
Something was up. Galt likely had spoken to Dustin, hence the favorable introduction for the new healer living in squalor in the Lower City. But what exactly did a healer think he was doing? The money was to be made was from wealthy clients in the Upper City, not the poor of the Lower City.

  Now, there was a thought. Perhaps this new healer did not care about that. Terhun considered adding the healer’s presence to his weekly report to the Lyai, but hesitated. No, I had better look into this further first.

Cle’or sensed that they were being watched. It might be no more than the merely curious.  People were talking about Balfour, the wonderful healer come into their midst. However, those watching seemed to be lurking in the shadows and apparently had very keen and discerning eyes.

  Balfour noticed her hand sign. He casually shook his head, indicating they were sticking with the plan.

 
She sighed, not liking this one bit. She kept her hand from reaching for her concealed throwing dagger. She decided that she hated the plan.

Terhun sent for Dustin. That entailed his suddenly being waylaid by one of Terhun’s mages. The spell left him feeling numb as he awoke to find himself sitting opposite from the agent. “Uh, hello, Master Terhun.”

“Good afternoon, Dustin.”

  “I take it you want something from me?”

  “Yes. I’m interested in knowing more about the new healer in the Lower City.”

 
Dustin did not even try to dissemble. “It’s Faeryn business. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

  Terhun laughed. “Everything involving the Faeryn of late concerns me. The Chancellor is close to seeing every ill in the Province as being Faeryn wrought.”

  “You know that’s not true, Master.”

  “Of course, I do... which is why you will tell me all you know about their interest in the healer.”

  “I know no more than you do.”

 
Terhun smiled, “Oh, but you can find out, which is why I like you so much.”

  “I’ll not betray my people.”

  “I’m not asking you to –– and won’t,” Terhun promised. “I just don’t like the feel of things at present and wish to be prepared for every eventuality.”

 
Dustin liked the sound of that not at all.

Defending the Keep

Chapter
51

N
iota rested on the ledge of the great cliff that marked the boundary between the Empire and the Crescent Lowlands. It was said that the first Highmage, himself, had made the earth rise, setting the Imperial lands forever out of reach of both common humans to the east, and the Dark One’s forces to the north. The Trelorian captain had begun to believe such mystic folklore of late.

 
The narrow road that his troops held led up to Niota’s very gates –a place that had proven to be a deathtrap. Between the refugees and the ogres had at first defended the keep, they had killed over two hundred of his soldiers. They had dropped boulders, rained burning arrows, and slung stone at them. The gates had held firm against their battering rams.

Gates that should have been open for them.

 
Now, under cover of darkness, a group of Gwedian Northerners, men of Lord Fenn du Blain’s personal troops were scaling the keep’s wall, while one of Fenn’s sorcerer watched.

 
The captain knew this was his last chance. If they failed, he would die in agony. Fenn du Blain, Trelor’s ruler, in everything but name, would see to that.

Thomi heard a sound late that night and rose half-dressed from bed. Walsh instantly awoke and began to sniff the air. “You sense it, too?” the boy asked.

 
The ogre hefted a thick wooden club and went to the door. He paused, yanking it wide. 

  Amira gasped, “Uh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  Sighing with relief, Thomi smiled, “It’s all right. What are you doing?”

 
She emptied her pouch on the table, next to the fletched arrows she had

brought. Grinning, she said, “It’s harder than it looks.” She held up an

arrow. “Care to try?”

 
“Try what?”

 
“Switching out this, for that arrowhead.”

 
He picked up one of the black metal arrowheads. “What is this?”

 
“Oh, something I picked up the other day.”

 
He sat down, “Okay.” He drew his knife and pried lose the standard arrowhead and worked to replace it with the black one. A moment later, “See?”

 
She pushed the rest toward him, “Only a dozen more to go.”

 
He grimaced and held out his hand. She gave him another black arrowhead.

 
It was only later that Thomi realized that Walsh was watching him from the doorway. Thomi put down the last arrow. “Walsh, what’s wrong?”

 
The ogre suddenly tensed, then turned and ran down the corridor. Amira grabbed up the quiver and the arrows as she raced after Thomi who chased his rather large friend.

  The other ogres came from throughout the keep and climbed the parapets. Walsh led them to the wall furthest from the gate. Thomi looked hard and abruptly noticed that the entire Imperial training cadre were hunched warily along that section of the ramparts. Talik gestured to them to stay back, then took a deep breath and spread his hands wide.

  Light blazed above them, dazzling their eyes. “Now!” Talik cried.

  As one the guards rose with their bows notched and let fly. The ogres grabbed the rocks stacked along the length of the wall, then leaned over and threw them. The screams were terrible even as a few dark forms managed to reach the lip of the ramparts, while most of their companions literally were felled, dropping to their deaths.

  Walsh tossed a stone in the air, then hit it resoundingly with his club. The stone struck the foremost figure squarely. His scream rang in Amira’s ears. She hid her face in her hands. Thomi put his arms around her. “It will be over soon.”

  She trembled, knowing that voice. It had
said those very words in her dreams that night, which woke her. “You’ll need these, Thomi,” she murmured.

 
He blinked, then left her to grab a bow, which she quickly strung, tossing him it back to him.

 
His voice echoing from her dream had a deeper timber. She shook her

head and saw Talik rush across the rampart toward one of the legionnaires, who screamed in agony, yet there was no mark on him.

  Talik pointed and shouted, “They’ve a mage! Get back!”

 
A stream of viscous green fluid flowed up the side of the battlement and continued to flow over the now shriveled legionnaire. A bolt of fire shot from Talik’s fingertips and struck the vile stream, which hissed. A green tendril shot forth back at Talik. He cast a warding and the tendril stopped only a foot from him.

 
“It’s attracted to magery!” Talik shouted.

 
Amira’s gaped, then shouted, “Thomi, use the arrow!”

 
“Um, I only know how to string them!”

 
“Well, it looks like you’re about to learn!”

 
He did as the tendrils sprouting, surrounded and cocooned Talik’s warded form. Thomi drew the string to his ear as Amira tossed several more arrows before him. His arm wavered, then steadied.

 
The tendrils squeezed Talik’s warding shield, sparks showered. Amira’s chainmail began to swirl in fluid. She spread her arms and – saw the mageborn feeding the tendril far below and the commandos climbing without ropes or ladders.

 
The tendril suddenly released Talik, turned, drawn to the High

Magery of her scrying
. Talik slumped feeling drained.

 
Thomi let fly. Black metal and spell met. The resultant explosion knocked Thomi off his feet and the tendril burst into flame.

 
Amira
saw
the mageborn below shriek in agony as the tendrils flamed and raced back to their mageborn source.

 
Gazing with her unseeing eyes at Thomi, she cried, “You must shoot their mage before it is too late.”

 
“That’s all well and good, but don’t I need to see him?”

 
The keep quaked.

 
Walsh shouted, “Here –– Thomi!”

 
The boy hurried up to the higher battlement, bow and three of the arrows she had thrown him clutched in his hand.

 
She
saw
him atop the battlement.
Saw
the next wave of invaders scaling over the wall, daggers drawn. Several lost their footing to the quaking and fell backward into the night clutching for the reaching hands of their

fellows –– only a few succeeded –– the rest fell, screaming.

  Ogres and legionnaires stumbled forward as they moved to engage the new enemy. Thomi positioned himself over the parapet and drew. The ground beneath his feet steadied. Amira abruptly saw through Thomi’s eyes as he drew back to his ear, targeted the point below where the mageborn glowed to her sight as a number of his men fell from down the length of the stone wall, knocking the Trelorian soldiers guarding him off the road and the rest of the way down the escarpment.

 
The mage looked up and met Thomi’s glowing gaze in the distance. Thomi released.

 
The mageborn sorcerer laughed, cast his warding spell to block the arrow, then gasped as the spell had no effect. Well, at least not the effect he expected.

 
There was an explosion that momentarily blinded him and all his men. However, Thomi was not. He drew his next arrow and let fly and notched his last arrow. He blinked past the glare, which was

dimming, sensing Amira directing his sight yet again.

  He loosed as the mage’s illusion faded, revealing one of the goblin Raslinn’s determined ilk. The first arrow struck, exploding against his wards, knocking him a step back. He heard the whistling passage of the second arrow too late to do other than partially ward himself again. The explosion this time was nearly on top of him. Making him tumble back down the road. The last arrow struck his enchanted mail. Flame burst around him, sending him plummeting off the edge to his death with an inchoate scream.

 
Amira had one last seeing, a commando’s hand reaching over the wall for Thomi’s throat. Before she knew what she was doing, she raced up to Thomi’s side, leaped passed him, stabbing her knife into that hand as it reached over the stone.

 
The man cried out.

 
Walsh rushed to their side, reached over and grabbed the Trelorian soldier. He threw him down, knocking off one of his fellows climbing up behind him. They both screamed on their way down. The legionnaires let fly with their arrows. There were many more screams.

The last of their attackers were overcome and several legionnaires lay dead,

others were wounded. The remainder were moving, though exhausted,

trying
to help the living as best they may. Ogres carried the
worst hurt down from the battlements to Talik, who struggled to heal them.

 
The remaining Trelorian soldiers fled back down the Imperial Road to the lands below. Their retreat so hasty that they knocked many of their fellows off the narrower sections of the path. They fell screaming, which only added to the chaos.

 
Thomi stared at Amira, “You were in my mind.”

 
“You needed to know where your target was.”

 
“Uh, thanks,” he muttered.

 
She smiled. “You definitely handled that bow better than I could.”

 
He grinned, then they went to talk with the Archmage.

The legionnaire he treated gasped as his wounds vanished. Talik

swayed as a youngling ogre offere
d a steadying hand. “Well, Lord

Niota, they know you’ve a mage here now.” He coughed as an ogre with a wicked cut down his arm sought his help. “And that the Empire has truly reclaimed this place.”

  “Then we’ve won,” Thomi said.

 
“For now,” Talik replied, then took a deep breath and focused on the ogre’s injury. The cut glowed and healed, slower than the exhausted Archmage liked.

 
At which point, Amira’s chainmail swirled once more and she saw. She screamed, then collapsed at Thomi’s feet. He knelt beside her, “Amira!”

  Walsh looked at his fellows
as they listened to NI–O–TA lay claim the elvin girl. He bent and picked her up and carried her inside the keep as Thomi demanded, “She’ll be all right, won’t she?”

 
“She –– be –– fine.”

 
“Uh, Walsh, where are you taking her? Uh, Walsh, that’s my room.”

 
Pausing, the ogre considered his words carefully, “Bed –– soft.”

 
Thomi frowned and said, “Uh, fine, give her my bed, then!”