Date: 2021-01-08 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: In a world torn by war, everyone must do their part. Everyone.

Crystals of Memory: Book Four

War Mage

P.S. Power

Orange Cat Publishing

Copyright 2021

Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty-one

Chapter twenty-two

Chapter twenty-three

Chapter twenty-four

Chapter twenty-five

Chapter twenty-six

Chapter twenty-seven

Chapter twenty-eight

Chapter twenty-nine

Chapter thirty

Chapter thirty-one

Chapter thirty-two

Chapter one

Anders caught his reflection in the window of the medium sized shop. That was a rare thing, for the part of the world he was in and the bubbled glass was distorted and warped enough that it was difficult to make out what, exactly, his face was saying at the moment. Instead of seeming mildly happy, or at least relaxed, the young man in the glass looked oddly hard. As if he might just fight, at any given moment.

It didn’t really fit with what he was going for at the moment, which was just getting to the docks, not far away, with a load of goods. He had four rented donkey carts, plus ten men hired to offload for them. That didn’t count the fact that there were, fully, fifty men and women coming with them, from the palace of Sula Darian, for the trip.

A thing that he hadn’t counted on at all, naturally. It was enough that he’d had to go to the coast early, riding out with Daren Willet and Demo Gull, to try and raise coin from the bottom of the ocean to pay for everything that would be needed.

Especially since he’d had to call in another boat, to travel with them. That, interestingly, wasn’t one of the ones he’d worked with before. Captain Enna had sent both of the other craft, which he owned in part, off in different directions, hauling legal cargo. A thing that Anders and the old man he carried in his head, Farad, both agreed on as far as business went. The men on those ships were less than half a year away from having been pirates, after all. That meant doing things like having them work real jobs wasn’t a bad idea at all. Plus, given they hadn’t wanted to wait for most of a month for one of them to reach a dock they could get a message to, they’d had to do something else.

Which had meant Enna hiring the Limpet. It was a larger vessel than the Sea Leopard, and not that run down, though clearly geared toward carrying cargo for a living, not people. Which meant getting in as many creature comforts as possible for two ships, instead of just one.

So, for five days, he, Demo and Daren had sat on the coast, finding treasures lost at sea with their minds. Then, carefully, and with no small amount of pain, pulled it from the vast depths. In the end they had four large boxes, which were strong and sturdy, but not proper chests at all, filled with coins and gems. He’d done most of it himself, but the other two had managed to contribute a full container, between them.

A thing that, when he stopped to think about it, caused Anders to smile. Feeling proud of the two men. Daren had worked for half a year, in an almost insane fashion, learning every kind of magic that Anders could teach him, with aid from several others. Gull, on the other hand, had learned how to do the new magics in the saddle, as they’d traveled to the coast. Even with that impediment, the Istlan castle guard had managed to pluck as much from the vast sea as Daren had.

Part of that was due to the man being slightly stronger in magic, of course. That wasn’t the whole of story, though. He’d also simply forced himself to keep up, fighting to go on into the night, several times, so that he wouldn’t be doing less than the other man.

Regardless, they were both wealthy, now. Enough that they probably wouldn’t have to work too hard again, for the rest of their lives. They wouldn’t have to do that, if Anders wasn’t planning to push them both like a monster for the rest of the trip home. Then he was, at least with Daren, heading to the front line of the battle against Yanse. That part was leaving him feeling tense, since the warmer spring weather was about to come to that part of the world, which meant that the real fighting was going to continue again.

A thing that he wasn’t going to be able to do anything about, if he couldn’t get there in time.

He blinked at the glass window of the port shop. Then he turned and waved at Prince Alpert, who had come walking up, dressed in travel clothing. Things in bright colors, but sturdy fabrics. Fine things that marked him as wealthy, without being too easily damaged. Anders was, technically, in finer garments. They were in Barquea still, if the most northern point of that vast land, so he was, as tradition required, in a robe. One with loose flowing trousers underneath, since wearing a dress around was annoying. An idea that had him feeling sorry for the women he knew, suddenly. They had to put up with things like that all the time and while they looked attractive in them, things like running or even moving quickly required a lot more work than he was used to.

It had to leave them subtly stifled and crippled, as they went through their lives.

The Prince, seeming grave, but fighting a smile at the same time, walked over to him. There was a firm, commanding cadence to his steps. He managed to seem as if that town, in a land far away from his own, was his natural place in the world. People on the street watched him pass, probably not knowing why they did it. He was clearly a man of a different place and wealthy, but there were nearly forty others there who were dressed in fashions that spoke of the same thing. Some being much more decorative.

He had golden hair, which was rare there, but Anders did as well, and few enough were staring at him. A thing that Farad found kind of them. He’d been shy, in life, after a fashion. If he hadn’t been speaking an ancient history, being watched too closely had always left him feeling strange and over examined.

Still, when the Prince, his father, if not officially, got to him, his voice was pleasant sounding. A deep tenor that sounded so practiced it was almost musical.

“Anders! I see you’ve done some shopping? Picking up trinkets to give as gifts? Princess Aisla and I took two days to do that in the grand market in Lo’usa Tet, before we could begin to travel. I hate to take the time, but arriving home without some gifts would seem as if we didn’t care for those we left behind.” The man swallowed then, looked away and tensed.

It was cheating, but Anders read his intent, if lightly. It was an easily seen thing, once he used a bit of magic to understand what was being thought. There were people who wouldn’t have ever thought that Anders Brolly needed to give them anything, as a mere cast off bastard, who could suddenly use the fact that he’d been named a Prince of Barquea to punish him in court circles, if he arrived without proper gifts. Those, thankfully, didn’t have to be large or expensive things.

Just signs of the journey that he’d taken. A thing that Alpert hadn’t thought to mention before. He also wasn’t certain how much of his remaining coin his child had spent, the Prince not knowing that the trip had been successful as far as fishing for wealth had gone.

The truth was, Anders hadn’t even thought to purchase anything except for food, drink, and soft blankets and other bedding, so far. Given that, he laughed a bit.

“Ah? I need to go into the shops here again then. We’ll eat well enough, but I must admit, I haven’t considered gifts, at all. I should get something for a few people. Senna Grace, in the kitchen, since she’s a teacher of mine. Master Tolan... The men in the bowery and fletcher’s shop. Am I missing anyone?”

He was, of course. All of the Ambassadors, some of their people, the new Princess and her staff. Princess Peri and her daughter, Princess Mathia. Some of the servants, as well. It was going to have to be small things, given all of that. He wouldn’t have room in his bags, otherwise.

Suddenly seeming serious, the Prince frowned.

“That... Yes, of course. My mother and father, as well. Not as the King and Queen, it...” He shook his head then. “You would be inside your rights to ignore them, but it will be noticed if you do. Father didn’t allow me to marry your mother, which altered the course of your life greatly. A slap there could be delivered by ignoring this kind of thing a few times. Is there coin available for such things? You have many carts here.” The man looked at the slight bustling in the background, as men from the docks loaded the hired carts. Some of which would be taking three or even four trips to the two ships.

Anders shrugged, a thing that was too lazy, given he was addressing a Prince.

“We pulled four large boxes of gold and silver from the sea. Some gems as well. One of those is the property of Daren and Demo, however. It’s enough that both of them are wealthy, now. I also have most of what I had left. Food costs, but it isn’t gold jewelry or fine metal work. I was thinking of gifting one of the cases to Duke Lister, if we can do such without it being an insult, that is?” He looked away then, feeling awkward about the idea.

Captain Ford had become a Duke and was to marry Princess Jasmin, from Barquea. The thing there was that his lands were poor ones, which had few people on them, and were in the far north, in an area that would probably be overrun by attackers from Dora, as soon as they moved to attack in the late spring or early summer. As a Duke he was required to meet certain marks of men at arms and bowmen, in time of war, but there was no time to prepare soldiers and levies from the area. Not even for the standard sixty-three days of fighting required per year in dire times.

Alpert, instead of cuffing him on the ear for impudence, smiled. It was a grand thing, that lit up his entire face.

“Ah? That’s amazing! A very fine wedding gift, indeed. There are no troubles with finances then? I knew that the plan was to find some things, but it seems that you three did well enough. It’s three times what you took last time?”

Anders shook his head.

“No. It’s... I haven’t counted, but each of the boxes is many times larger than what I used before. I should probably break those up into bags or containers I can actually move on my own. It’s enough for the coming years, I have to think. I... don’t really know how to handle coin well, still.” He shook his head. “Now, I see no need to stint anyone. I just don’t want to give a gift in the wrong place, and have it be an insult in the giving. That or seem to be claiming to a station I don’t hold. How do I manage that?” The question was, it suddenly felt, too direct.

It was also a thing that needed to be asked, and they were speaking in Istlan, so no one looked at them strangely, not understanding what he was requesting of the adult man, directly in front of him. His father, which given how similar they looked, was probably understood by those who watched them, covertly, in the distance. That or he might be thought his elder brother.

The Prince nodded, seeming sage, suddenly. Understanding what would be needed, from both lessons and long practice.

“As a boy of Istlan, you wouldn’t be expected to give much, or anything on arrival. As a foreign Prince, a gift to the King is always a good idea, though not required. The trick is that, as family, in noble circles, such things would be expected and noticed if they were missing, coming from any prince. You, personally, can get away with a few gifts, to people you feel are important to you. Your instructors and personal friends, as well as my parents.” His voice softened then. “Possibly something small for Robarts and Peri? You’re close to them, of late? I know that Princess Peri spoke of how polite and well-mannered you were, when she offered herself to you, in payment for her daughter’s life.” The last words held a smirk, as if teasing were about to come. Then the man shook his head a bit and sobered. “Which... Honestly, I think you won her over with that, more than anything else could have. At least after saving Mathia and those others from the red plague. She was, rather, lobbying for you to be given special favors, with father, at the time.”

Anders snorted a bit, and smiled.

“Well, I should get something for all of them, then. Lady Martya, as well. If I give enough to other people, that will seem right, as well as showing that I didn’t forget about her?” She held the mind of his old student, Ganges, in the same fashion that he held Farad.

Except that she was over five hundred years old in her own person and a potential threat to the entire world. Hoatha Eta, who was Ganges himself, having never bothered with dying, even over fifteen hundred years, had suggested he woo her, if possible. A thing that a thirteen-year-old boy wasn’t going to be doing easily.

Still, gifts, tokens and possibly spending some time with her, was all possible.

A thing that Alpert understood, having been in on the planning sessions. They weren’t even planning to hide that they knew who the woman was. She would, sooner or later, simply read their minds and know that they knew. Instead, they all simply focused on the kind and gentle idea of trading Anders to her, in exchange for their world not being destroyed. A thing that might not work, of course. Ganges had made good inroads toward taking over the world, a thousand years before, after all. That same mind was in Lady Martya, without having grown tired of such things, as of yet, like the man himself had.

If that wasn’t a lie.

Then, if it was, they were all probably going to die or be enslaved, in short order.

There was a smile from the Prince, and if it was a bit dark and gloomy, no one would think much of it. Possibly that his child had said something which was slightly annoying.

It wasn’t about that. Not that Anders didn’t have his moments that way.

The Prince looked down the street as he spoke.

“You should do that. Something that is special, but not so much that it seems you plan to openly court her or seek her for your bed in the coming weeks. Do you know what kind of things she might enjoy?”

He blinked, but nodded.

“She claimed to enjoy books, in the form of stories, once. I could rewrite one, from memory? That’s not a fine gift though, from a far-off land.” He had several new ones in his head, having placed them there in the Sula’s library, before leaving.

Just getting to the docks had taken him and the others most of a month. The Sula had asked them to stay on for a bit, while he readied his people to travel. Anders had suggested they be ready in a week. It had taken nearly a month and a half. That was, in the end, due to who they had with them.

Not just Princess Jasmin and a few servants, though they had those good people in the mix as well, but also Princess Javina, Princess Lissa and much to Aisla’s annoyance, her sister Salina. Anders hadn’t understood why the women, one of them a literal girl, were all going with them. Even if it was only supposed to be for some months. No one had mentioned that idea to him at all, but his plan was to work them on magic so much that they were probably going to all hate him by the end of the boat trip. That, and on speaking Istlan.

The girls could use a bit of training in magic still, if they were going to be useful in passing messages around. It occurred to him that, having them go to the court of King Mathias for some months would also allow them time to learn people they could send messages to, directly. Again, no one had told him of that plan. Then, they didn’t have to. The Sula had ordered them, and one of their mothers, to go with them, so they did.

Really, it might even have been a special pleasure trip, as a reward for their hard work. That or to show the foreign King how trusted he and his people were.

Shaking his head a bit, Anders forced a smile.

“That’s too much, for now. Writing a book for someone by hand isn’t a normal thing. Some trinket that would look pretty on her, perhaps? If I do the same for Senna Grace and get some nice knives for some of the guards and maybe Erold?” Which would mean the other gifts were needed, of course.

The Prince sighed.

“We should see to that, then? Do you need to be there to see to loading this first? We have some time to shop, right now, before night comes?”

They did that, though it meant him running, literally, robes flapping, to the docks proper, where he found Captain Enna, standing by the gangplank.

The man called out to him, in Scara, which was the language of the land they were in. The man had an accent, being from further west, in a different kingdom, but it was very understandable.

“Anders Sona! Is there an attack?” The man looked past him, as if to find a reason he was moving with such haste.

Panting a bit, he huffed, and smiled. Then shook his head.

“We have a load of goods incoming. I need a trusted man to see to the delivery over to the Limpet. I was thinking we could get Kreed to handle that for us? He’s solid.”

Instead of wondering at his poor choice of man to watch expensive goods, the fellow simply turned and called out, yelling back at the ship.

“Kreed to the dock! Kreed to the dock!”

That was called out by other voices on the ship, which had the man himself arriving, not five minutes later, looking more than a bit upset. His black beard was a bit messy, and his hair, too long, was wild. His clothing was brightly colored, but had patches and worn spots on it in places. His shoes needed to be polished, if he was going to be a functionary for them that day.

He rather stomped, as he moved down the gangplank, glaring first at the Captain, then over at Anders.

A thing that Farad didn’t understand until he spoke, clearly resisting the urge to spit on the wood at their feet.

“So, I’m being set off?”

Enna actually smiled.

“Not this time. Anders Sona has a large shipment of goods to be loaded on the Limpet and wants someone he can trust to stand watch on it. So, he asked for you. By name. He wasn’t even acting like you were afraid of him or anything. Just saying that you could do the job, for real.”

That got the man to look puzzled, then he shook his head.

“That’s just foolish then, isn’t it? I’m a thief and a liar... A thing you know, Anders, having had to fight me over that very thing, directly. You could get someone better, like Breegs or maybe Fisher?”

Anders laughed but tried to keep it gentle and friendly.

“You’re up to this. We have a lot more fine types on this cruise, so I need you to step forward and lead the other men, at meals and all that. Matt will be in charge, in part, but we have to do a bit more of a show, this time. We have two ships, as well. Do you think you can work in, over on the Limpet? They’re a hired ship and sound like good men, but I can’t be on both ships.”

The man looked hard, for a moment. Almost angry.

“I can’t cook. Not even a little. How are we doing that, if we have high people with us?”

Anders had an answer for that one, thankfully.

“Sula Darian sent several fine cooks with us, so that the Princesses won’t starve, having to eat my cooking the whole time. We have that part taken care of. We need you to manage the servers and all that. The Limpet will have most of the servants, so we need someone to make sure they aren’t abused or insulted. I’ll try to be over, in a dingy, at times, but it will mainly be up to you, if you take the task.”

The man seemed almost stuffed and like he was going to refuse, for a moment. Until Captain Enna spoke. It wasn’t even barking out that the man had his orders, or fingering his knife, suggestively. Just a pleasant sounding set of words.

“That’s a pretty big promotion, Kreed. I agree, you can manage this. It won’t be easy, and you need to keep a calm head, the whole time. If I take the meaning here, Anders Sona is putting you up to stand for Istlan. We work for them, now, so that’s not wrong.”

Anders nodded, since regardless of where any of them were originally from, that was simply the truth.

“Let me see to your clothing? Something nicer than last time. You need to seem wealthy and important in such things.” The words could have given insult, especially to a prickly man like Kreed.

Instead, the man stood still, and didn’t even balk when Anders used magic to trim his hair and beard, then clean the man totally. The hardest part was brushing the now short hair, using new terms to organize threads and hair. It worked and didn’t pull, but he had to be very careful and, embarrassingly, had to recut the hair, since he’d left part of it too long, the first time.

In all, he stood there for ten minutes, making the fellow ready.

Then Anders smiled.

“That should work. You look ready to meet with a Sula or King, even. I need to run back into town. I have to... Shop more, if you can believe that.” He waited, expecting laughter, since that wasn’t a real task, but Kreed simply bowed, doing it a bit roughly, but no worse than the servants of the palace often did. It was in the Barquean fashion, with arms out to the sides, his palms up.

“Very good, Anders Sona. I’ll go and see to the arrangement of goods on The Limpet? Perhaps have a word with the First Mate, about what might be needed, for the comfort of our passengers?”

The voice wasn’t going to trick anyone into thinking he was a cultured man, but the words were right. If he sounded a bit like a sailor putting on airs, he didn’t seem like a pirate pretending to the same thing.

“That would be wonderful, Kreed Sona. I’ll check in on you, using magic, to make sure that there are no issues. Thank you for accepting this task.”

Then, without waiting, he turned and moved away at a controlled run. A slow one, but something that he wouldn’t have managed nearly as well, even a half year before. He was breathing hard again, when he entered the shop he needed, to find several Princesses were already inside, picking things out. The clerk, who was laying items for them out on the front counter, seemed worried, for some reason. It was obvious enough that Farad caused himself to drop into a trance, emptied his mind, and reached out to the fellow. Examining him in a manner that probably would have started a physical altercation, if the fellow had realized it was taking place.

He was older than he looked, being over five decades and seeming only to be late into his third, which was impressive to notice, that having happened without magic. His skin was dark, and his smile strained, due to the fact that he wasn’t certain how to bargain and haggle with Princes and Princesses. They were selecting enough to be impressive, but if they demanded too tight a price, he couldn’t actually say no to them. That might mean losing his livelihood or at least years of hardship, if things went wrong in the next moments.

Lissa smiled at him, and sighed, her face seeming cute, in the light through the window.

“I should present a gift as well, to the far-off King and his wives, but I wasn’t sent with much, by way of riches. I have a bit, but if I spend it now, I might miss it later.”

The words had Princess Aisla, who was busily selecting things across the room, nodding, and a rather sour face coming from Salina. Jasmin seemed bemused, but also nodded.

Each of them had similar thoughts in mind. They were all wealthy, but they were going to a far-off land where walking down the hallway and asking their father for gold with a wheedling smile wasn’t going to be happening. Aisla could ask her husband, but Jasmin understood that Captain Ford wouldn’t have a lot, to begin with.

Javina and Lissa had ten gold each, which was a lot, but not, as had been mentioned, to waste. They might need it to survive, in the coming months. Sulana Meegan, stood in the back, seeming almost affronted by the whole process. She was a Queen, more or less, so had more coin, but didn’t know what her place would be, as far as presenting gifts. It wasn’t expected in Barquea, after all.

Anders simply bowed. Toward the shop keeper, which got attention.

“I’ll be paying for all of this? I need to select some things out myself.”

That had Aisla waving at him.

“I’ve been doing that? I already have the gifts Alpert and I need to see to. This is all for you.” She didn’t tense up at all, outwardly, but Meegan, the attractive older woman, glared at her, as if she’d overstepped her place, greatly.

Even if to everyone there, including the shop keeper, she was simply his mother. A side mother, but that counted as the same thing, there in Barquea. Which technically meant that Sulana Meegan, who was about to be mean, as was her way, and scold the Princess, was actually doing it to guard him. Her grandchild, to her own way of thinking.

Anders stopped that, by grinning.

“Perfect! Thank you, Princess Aisla. Sulana Meegan... You shouldn’t need specific gifts, I don’t think, but you should make some selections, in case things come up. I have enough coin on me, I think. If not, I’ll send for more.” Or run and get it, himself. At the moment Gull and Daren were literally both sitting on the boxes, to prevent theft. That and practicing magic, and going over spell components.

That or talking about women. Something like that. It wouldn’t harm them to have a few moments to relax each day, of course.

The older woman, who had gray in her hair and lines beside her mouth and eyes, made a soft sound that seemed a bit derisive.

“Should we beggar you for our own entertainment, then, Prince Anders?” The woman seemed to mean it, and almost ready to insist they leave and not do any such a thing. Jasmin took a deep breath and looked down, her gown fine enough to mark her as a princess, even if no one had spoken the words out loud. Then, all of the women were dressed that way.

Meaning someone had done Sulana Meegan’s gown for her that day. The others could all see to themselves that way, using magic.

Anders simply nodded. His face was left serious, however.

“Of course! At least this time. Clearly, I’m currying favor with you, so that you’ll like me best, Sulana. With these others, it’s mainly that I’m planning to work them so hard over the next days and weeks as we travel that I have to seem kind now, so they won’t stab me in my sleep, later. All of you will have language lessons, of course. Except for Princess Aisla. Then, she has the little Prince to see to. That will take up much of her time.”

That, traveling with a baby, was going to be different. The boy, Leopold, wasn’t with them at the moment. Probably being in the care of servants, since several had come simply to see to that task.

Mean and conniving or not as a habit, Sulana Meegan simply grinned at him. A thing the attractive face seemed to mean, which was surprising to him.

“I see, then. Well, if you are gaining my favor, I suppose I can spend some of your coin, after all.” She, rather playfully, if in a regal fashion, made a dozen selections then. Most of them were small metal work things. Including finely engraved oil lamps, with clear glass hoods, and some interesting rope works, that were artwork, woven out of knots, in a clever fashion.

Anders, for his portion, simply bought every knife and sword in the place. They were, on average, too plain, being fine, but meant for real work, not to be decorative. He could use magic to dress them up, however, which would be easier than making them himself. That was possible, but he wasn’t certain that he truly had the skill down yet, not enough to make a truly strong blade of steel.

That was down to a lack of study on his part, of course. He could shape metal and form it well enough. Even sharpening blades was simple for him now. The trick was in making the metal hard, in the right portion, without being brittle. Doing the work to make the correct shape wasn’t outside of what he held in his mind at the moment. Creating the right structure inside the metal was the portion he hadn’t personally studied in an extensive fashion, yet.

A thing he needed to do, now that it had occurred to him.

Anders mentally marked that on the list of such things he kept in his head. There were twenty other such items to work on, at the moment. He tried to get to one or two a day, when possible, which of late, hadn’t really been a thing he managed too well.

They shopped for about an hour, and hit three different places, with him overpaying at each, if only by a little bit. Enough that the people keeping the shops all felt pleased with them having come and no one was going to have to worry about how to feed their children for a while. Not that people with shops that had glass windows were on hard times.

Still, it was important for the people of Istlan to not seem too poor. After all, their land was as rich as the one they were leaving, while still being different which might be a shock to the people traveling with them, when they saw it.

Chapter two

The first weeks of travel fell into a rather specific pattern, after the first day. Each morning, after a well prepared first meal, one of two, that Anders wasn’t preparing himself at all, the servants doing that work for them, he settled on the top deck. Along with Demo Gull, Daren Willet, and several of the Princesses. Lissa, Javina, Salina and Jasmin, even though the last woman was going to marry soon. Aisla skipped out on things, for the most part.

They drilled magician’s skills, using memory techniques, largely on their own, for the first three hours, then, more or less together, studied the tricks of being a wizard, seeking information in the distance. That required a bit of cleverness on Anders’ part, trying to find harder and more interesting things for them all to find, then walking them through how to use that skill to find things in the distance, and link that to the magician’s skills they knew, to move, change or alter things from afar.

It meant the people on the Limpet, which was in view the whole time, had their clothing cleaned and tidied for them, in their large, shared room, several times each day.

Then, in the afternoon they were joined by the servants and Sulana Meegan and walked, carefully, through learning the language of Istlan. That was met with some resistance for several days, from a few of the people, until they realized that memorizing a word every ten breaths meant that, by the end of the first ten days, they could have most of what they needed committed to memory, working only a few hours a day on the project.

Oddly, it was the servants, especially the cooks, who didn’t see why they needed to learn a new language. Sulana Meegan simply sat and did as instructed, without complaint. At least in front of him. Amazingly, Captain Enna took the time each day to come and work with them on that part of things, as well. No one even blinked at the idea, and the man himself did well, taking to the memory tricks easily enough. Not at a level that indicated a particular skill that way, but enough that, by the time they set in at the southern port of Istlan, Portsmouth, the man was able to speak to the dock officials himself.

It took a while to get everyone off the boats, and they had to hire some wagons and carriages for the princesses and other nobles with them. Those were, oddly, familiar to Anders, when he saw them. The carriage, of which he paid for two, being all that were available, were the ugliest color of yellow, with green highlights, that he’d ever seen.

The Modroc had arrived in the same carriages. Very likely the same wagons as well, since Anders had to hire everything the coastal town had, to carry them all. That meant climbing into the back of a wagon to ride, lacking a good horse at the moment. The one he’d claimed in the southern lands, Juniper, had been left at the grand palace there, to be well cared for, as she deserved.

She was a good horse, if honestly more of a pony than anything else.

Almost as if it were a joke, several of the Princesses climbed in to settle next to him, since Duke Lister and his bride-to-be needed to ride in a carriage, or it would look wrong, when they arrived. The Sulana was a Queen, so had to ride in the finer carriage as well. The baby wasn’t going in a wagon, which meant that they had Hoatha Eta, Depak Sona, Daren and the other unmarried Princesses in with them, bouncing for hours down the road. They’d gotten in early, with the Limpet heading out on the tide, the Sea Leopard waiting for some days, since Anders had left them with a bonus of coins.

The payment he owed Captain Enna, for some earlier work as well. When the ship had loaded with goods, on his say so, and headed to save some women and children, five months before.

The extra coins were simply for their service. Kreed had been given a small bag of the things, since he’d been doing special work. It was, Farad hoped, a lesson to the others. One that spoke of how working for Istlan was well worth doing. Even if it meant doing strange things that they didn’t feel prepared for.

As they rode, after the first two hours, which were filled with magical instruction, Anders started to speak.

In Istlan.

“From now on, we should all use this tongue, unless you need to pass something in secret. I wasn’t told why you were all coming? Is that a thing I’m allowed to know, do you think? I understand if you have orders not to speak about such things, of course.” He was curious, but the truth was that he was mainly passing the time, while giving a language lesson.

Lissa grinned at him, which was matched by Javina.

The younger Princess spoke, though.

“I asked to come, so I could pester you for more lessons, before you got tired of having me around. Father didn’t ask you to teach me? You started right in on it, so I’d thought...”

Anders shook his head, as Depak smiled, tears coming to his eyes for some reason.

“Truly! That’s amazing, Lissa! I don’t think that was asked of Anders, however?”

He did his own smiling then.

“It wasn’t needed, which I’m certain Sula Darian understood. I’m probably going to the front, soon, as is required of me. We should have you along?” He was teasing, since going to a real war like that wasn’t the place of a small girl. Even one who was actually working out to be both talented and powerful in battle.

Hoatha narrowed his eyes for a moment, his face looking youthful and his body lean and attractive. Like he had been as a boy, first learning to use the techniques of the Keepers of Times Story.

“That might not be the best plan, but we should see to your instruction, regardless. All of you ladies, of course. Daren will be going to the front with us, of course.”

Depak frowned for a moment, which could have been over Daren, given the words, but honestly wasn’t. The older magician was actually friends with the former servant. After a few moments, he sighed.

“I can’t love that, but we can’t protect them too much. Each of these ladies has shown promise as to being the future leader of Barquea. Perhaps having them sure up the roads, away from the most dangerous battle lines?” The man smiled, to show he was teasing.

Daren simply nodded.

“That would be a good task. I need to learn to do that, too. I’m not powerful enough to do much that way.”

Anders nodded, since it was true, which had Javina glaring at him. Then, the fifteen-year-old Princess rather fancied the man, who wasn’t that much older than she was.

When he spoke, Anders was glared at less.

“Your strength is enough. We need to work on efficiency in energy work, is all. I agree though, we need to hold the Princesses from battle. This time. Road work, building structures... That would be a fine task. We should make a palace for Duke Lister and Princess Jasmin. I’ve been checking the lands he’s been given in the north, using magic and the castle there is mainly a pile of rocks, at the moment. Daren and I will have to hurry and handle the Yansians, then head up north for that.”

Depak and Hoatha had come to aid with that, but it wasn’t a thing he was going to mention out loud. That would sound too much like asking them to fight Istlan’s battles for them, when the truth was that both men had already done their part that way, by teaching himself and Daren.

Instead of throwing a fit, Salina snorted.

“I can make up the plans for that, and you can build that for us? I have no clue how to do that kind of thing, using magic.”

There was a smile then, from Hoatha.

“That would be a good idea. Coming up with plans for it? I’ll help, having done that kind of thing many times before. As for the skills needed to do that, you can learn. Probably inside the next week or two, given the speed of your current efforts. So, that, and roads, for now?”

Interestingly, he looked over at Anders, as if seeking confirmation of the plans.

So he nodded, as if he wasn’t playing at all.

“If that won’t interrupt other plans? I still don’t know why you all came, exactly and don’t want to interfere that way.”

Javina simply looked down a bit, then over at Daren, which was telling, without seeming to be noticed by the pale, dark haired man.

“Father was pleased with my recent learning, so decided that I deserved a reward. Salina, as well. I do think that the hint was that we get you to keep teaching us, for as long as possible, but that wasn’t an order or anything. So, as long as we get to go to some parties and meet people, it’s probably fair to make us work, too.”

She smiled, and glanced at her sisters, who both... nodded.

Which had Depak bobbing his head, his face suddenly going still.

“Excellent. All of you. These are most serious times. I am highly pleased to see you all standing forward, and taking your tasks seriously. It will be some hours, before we arrive at the palace of King Mathias. We should, perhaps go over who we might meet there, if that is appropriate, Anders?”

The words had him thinking, and working on some illusions, almost instantly.

One person at a time, who seemed to be sitting in a floating chair, alongside the wagon. There was no room in the back with the rest of them. Not if the people were to be shown in a dignified fashion at all.

The first man was easy enough to pick.

He appeared, as if solid and real, moving a bit and looking at each of the others, in turn. His head was bald on top, and the hair on the sides graying. He was a bit portly, from a rich life, but still vital. His blue eyes shone a bit, and his face seemed pleasant enough.

“Mathias Caldas, King of Istlan. When you meet him, if you do, call him King Mathias each time, even if others are using Your Highness or Your Majesty. Bow, but use the method that is familiar to you. No bow is improper, except one that seems lazy or lacking in effort. If you are presented to him, simply bow, give your name if it wasn’t given for you and stand. Then you’ll be invited to move to the side, or to speak to him, briefly. It isn’t hard to do at all and doesn’t require complex lessons first. He’s a kind man. Much like Sula Darian, only, of course, not your father.”

The words got Salina to roll her eyes.

“So, he might want to take some of us to bed? How does that work here, if we get with child? He already has a woman, and is allowed only one?”

Anders nodded, ignoring the idea of the King taking the Princesses to his bed for entertainment. It wasn’t unheard of, but getting one of them pregnant would probably start a war, so hopefully wouldn’t happen.

The man vanished, showing a rather plain, but still regal, lady.

“Queen Maura Caldas. The only wife of King Mathias. Also a kind woman. She has visions, from time to time, so isn’t afraid of magic. The King isn’t either, of course. Some of the more common people will be. If anyone seems afraid of you for that reason, simply say that, yes, it’s magic, but that you were invited there, to serve them, using your skills. Then perform simple tasks for them, to aid or entertain?”

That wasn’t going to work, but it at least would be more polite than killing the cowards out of hand.

Lissa piped up.

“I’ve heard of that, from Aisla. How many people here fear magic? It’s odd, isn’t it? I mean, those with magic are no more dangerous than a person with a knife, or a horse that starts kicking.”

Anders figured things the same way, but Hoatha smiled, reached out and slapped the younger girl on the left shoulder.

“You have the heart of it. People are afraid of those things as well, and rightly so. It’s only that here, in this land, they have decided to give too much weight to magic. You might all wish to do what Anders suggested, if it comes up. Daren, you know these people as well, do you think that will work?”

Instead of simply answering, Daren looked away, then touched his bare chin for a moment, before shaking his head.

“No? Especially if they’ve heard that you were coming first. I’ll talk to the servants though, and try to get them not to be too afraid of you. Speaking the language well will help. When Depak Sona came everyone was so terrified that nearly half the servants quit, early on. I was too scared to do it, myself, at first. Anders came and introduced me, personally, and I saw that he was just a man, if one with great power. A kind one, even. That helped a lot. I was able to go to everyone else then and suggest that he wasn’t hard to work with at all. Being kind won’t be enough.”

He didn’t seem pleased with the words, but Anders had to shrug.

“That’s probably true. The nobles will be a bit better that way, since they deal with such things more often. Also, I’m planning to put on illusion shows, and other events, as often as possible, until everyone finds them boring and common place. That...” He was about to say it wouldn’t help either, but Daren clapped his hands.

“Yes! If it’s a thing for all, like you did on the road, going to Barquea? I doubt they will bore anyone, but I can see that helping, a lot. A big part of why magic is frightening is because it’s rare here.”

Depak laughed a bit at the words.

“And rare because it’s frightening, no doubt? Very good, Anders. You, Daren and Lissa will see to a show for us, then? Perhaps about the great river that was created along the eastern border, which ended the war?”

The war with the Modroc, of course. That had, of course, helped, but the Modroc had, suddenly started to have great losses, since Hoatha and Depak had gone for several months and fought, in their own persons. That meant the Modroc had pulled back, even before the water was flowing at all.

Instead of mentioning that, Anders simply started in on a lesson about illusion. By the time they were rounding the corner that would lead them to the castle, Anders had walked them all through making several illusions of their own, using memory skills, so they wouldn’t lose the teaching. Even Depak and Hoatha partook and worked on it with them.

Most of the people from the castle were shown as examples, with names. Daren did several of the servants, even, clearly outstripping the others in this new skill. Really, his work was as good as what Anders had managed in his first weeks, even after only one or two tries. It was highly impressive to see happening. Everyone managed something though, with Salina being the weakest in skills that way.

All of the princesses had that going on though, which was noticed, by the youngest girl.

“Well, men are better at magic than women are.”

Anders shook his head then, even as the girls all nodded.

“Not exactly. Women are stronger. Men tend to be a bit more adept at details and accuracy. In many ways women are the ones who excel that way. Such things, the small ones, can be learned with practice and concentration. Learning to be more powerful is also possible, but harder to pull off, or so I hear?” He didn’t really know that at all, but was speaking in a way he hoped wouldn’t dispirit Daren, in particular.

Depak looked away, as if it were a lie and Hoatha...

Smiled.

“True! It is much like with running or lifting heavy things. A man will never be the true equal of a woman who does the same work, but you can double or even triple what is possible, by keeping to good and regular practice, as far as magical strength goes. Given that most, man or woman, won’t bother working that hard, it’s well worth doing, for all of us. Especially with wars upon us from all directions.”

Depak looked back at the man, then rolled his eyes.

“Of course. Still, we are nearly at the palace. I do not know if we will be met or not. Anders, could you go over what we should do that way?”

He nodded.

“There won’t be a lot for us, this time. We’ll all need to bow, of course. The hard part here will be in introducing Gull and Daren first thing, after Princess Jasmin and Sulana Meegan, of course. Well before Hoatha here, though near the same time, since we have to let everyone know that they’re all magic users, first thing. I’m honestly not certain how to get that done.”

Depak grinned, but Anders went on.

“Seriously though, one of the others will introduce all of you, and whoever is greeting us will bow and give a small speech. I don’t know if we get Prince Robarts for this. The Heir? It might be Prince Erold, really.” Concentrating, both men were brought into being, floating as illusions next to them. He pointed to which one was which, again.

Then he shrugged.

“Really, Lissa, Javina, you should both make a point of meeting and befriending Princess Sweyn of the Modroc. Your lands aren’t at war any longer and she’s sweet. You too, Princess Salina. I just have to figure that you’ll be busy coming up with plans for that palace, for Duke Lister? Though... Really, you might get Princess Sweyn to help you with that? A joint gift, from both lands for his wedding might just go over well with the King. Maybe even with the Modroc?”

Salina made a face, but then nodded.

“I’ll ask after that? If we get a chance to meet at all. I’m a bit nervous now. What if the King sends us all away for being too ugly, or for our strange magics?”

It did not help that Daren nodded at the words, but Anders grinned.

“Well, you’re a true beauty, so it won’t be for that, at least. All of you are attractive enough. Even you, Daren. Just remember, if you get too nervous, cover it with bowing and smiling. You might end up looking foolish, but better that than rude.”

That got a chuckle, and no one spoke for a while, which was fine, since the castle, the only home he’d ever known, personally, came into view. It wasn’t a vast complex, compared to what the Sula had, but seeing it again, with fresh eyes, did show that it wasn’t humble in particular. It was grand and impressive, just a bit more modest in the numbers who could dwell within.

None of the Princesses seemed to be disappointed at least.

When they pulled up, Anders whispered, leaning in to the ladies, then Hoatha, including his oldest friend.

“It looks like we have Prince Robarts and Princess Peri out to meet us. Next to them is Princess Mathia, their daughter.” He’d covered all of that already, but did it again, just in case anyone had forgotten. They should have committed the names and faces to memory, but he hadn’t walked anyone through that, so the failure there would be his.

By the time the wagon was still enough for him and the others to stand and climb out, the princesses being helped by the men, Prince Alpert and the others were all out of the carriage, which had gotten there several minutes before they did, even if they were traveling together. Most of the wagons were behind them, holding their guards and then the servants from Barquea.

Directly behind them was the wagon that had all the gold and silver in it. With Demo and the rest of the guards sitting on the large heavy boxes, like they were chairs. The boxes were all sealed shut, formed into a seamless single piece of heavy wood, so they worked for that, pretty well. They probably needed cushions, but none of the guards complained, as they moved forward. Sir Daniel had to come forward a bit, to be greeted, since he was sworn to the King, directly. Gull got waved up as well, as Lady Lyse, Anders’ mother, moved back, to stand with him. Except that she started to move further back, which had Hoatha shaking his head.

“Lyse! Come stand with us? Gull, you should as well. I think we’re far enough back not to seem self-important?” He glanced at Depak, who looked at Anders. Who didn’t really know the answer, to be honest.

So he lied.

“That sounds right? We need to hold people back, since this is about meeting Princess Jasmin, and Prince Leopold, today. We don’t want to get in the way there. People will want to see the baby, first thing, naturally.”

Lyse looked at him closely then, as if he was saying something more than he was. Almost as if she feared he was angry with the situation. That wasn’t the case at all.

The only issue he had with Prince Leopold was that, when he’d first touched the little baby with his mind, he’d thought he was a girl. That was embarrassing and a thing that he hadn’t mentioned out loud, thankfully. It was a weakness in his skills that he’d made a point of working on after that. A thing that had instructed him in a very real way. With adults it was simple to tell a man from a woman. It wasn’t nearly as much so with a tiny baby.

A simple and basic difference, but one that had baffled him totally, causing error. It meant that he had to be aware that other things might well be the same, for him. Everything had to have attention paid to it, given that.

He winked at his mother then, and smiled. After all, he understood what she feared from him. He was a bastard. Leopold, his father’s next son, was legitimate. That wasn’t the fault of the baby, though. Just a thing of timing, and politics. One that it hadn’t even occurred to either Farad or the boy within to be worried over. That the child was his half-brother got him to smile again. He’d never thought about having such a thing, after all.

They were far enough back that he didn’t hear all the greetings and goings on from Prince Robarts, this time, but after the servants were brought forward to help Princess Jasmin and Sulana Meegan get to their rooms, the man, the Heir to the throne, walked back to where they were collected, by the wagon, and bowed. They all did that back, with the rest of them using Barquean bows, while he and Daren both used first Courtly. Gull, in the back, bent over, but Anders couldn’t see what he was doing, exactly.

Robarts smiled, hugely.

“Depak Sona! I wasn’t aware we were going to be seeing you again! Is all well?”

Depak nodded, then bowed, going low.

“I have come, as a private citizen, to help you in your war here. This man is my father, Hoatha Eta. Also here to aid in the same way, as well as help train Daren Willet in magic. Both he and Fenris Gull have learned much in the last months, on that topic. Enough so that it was thought important to make a point of that even before introducing the Princesses here? They, as well, have learned much of magic. Mainly under the tutelage of Anders Brolly. We... Should speak of that, soon, if that would be welcome? I am, as I said, only a private person, now.”

Prince Robarts bowed back, politely.

“I will always welcome your council, Depak Sona. We can repair to a private meeting directly, if you wish? After I make the acquaintance of these others, of course?”

He looked at Anders then, for some reason.

So he nodded and took a single step forward.

“These ladies are Princess Salina, Princess Javina and Princess Lissa. Princess Lissa is here to learn more of various magics, with an eye toward training others in that task. She’s very skilled in that area. Truly, we should introduce her to Princess Mathia for that?” He wasn’t certain the girl had the magical talent, but he thought it likely, since it seemed to run in families. All of the Caldas line seemed to have it, at least. “A warning though... Ambassador Belford gave her a stick to use, and she isn’t shy with it.”

That got a smile, from the girl, who nodded.

“True. A most wise man, Baron Belford.”

Robarts smiled at the girl then, and nodded.

“You speak Istlan? Impressive!”

Salina nodded.

“We all do, of course. Master Anders is very good at teaching such things. Magic, as well. We were told that might frighten some of the... More common people, here? We won’t wish to do that. I think that some of these others are planning a show of illusion and wonder, in a few days, for those who serve here?”

It was a strange thing to bring up, but Robarts tilted his head then.

“That sounds like a fun event... I don’t know... Perhaps you could, no, I can’t ask.”

Anders had to cheat and read the man’s mind, to find out what he was saying. He didn’t know if it would work, and didn’t know that having the others perform for them was at all polite to demand. Especially for the servants and common people of the castle.

Anders bowed again.

“It was a lesson set, to myself, Master Daren and Princess Lissa. I can perhaps show you and some others a small show tonight, if you wish? It won’t be the same, but it will give you the idea of what we have in mind? I’ve had some practice, as we traveled in the south.”

The Prince nodded.

“That sounds right, then. If it’s just Anders doing it, first? I don’t wish to give insult, but...”

He was so uneasy, it left Anders feeling awkward, for a moment.

Hoatha finally started to laugh.

“That seems correct? It will be a marvel, and done well enough not to leave you having to lie and pat his back to protect his feelings. He’s something of a master of such things now. He did a show for the public in Lo’usa Tet, which was still being talked about regularly, in the streets, months later.”

The Prince smiled again, seeming a bit strained, but not upset, really.

“Good then? Now, we should get you to your rooms and perhaps arrange a meal? Some of you will dine with the King, tonight, at the high table, but...” The man positively blanched, then, since adding a dozen people to the high table wasn’t going to work. Not without bumping several high-ranking nobles, which would be taken as an insult, of course.

Before he could be left stammering, trying to figure out how to not invite Depak and perhaps some princesses, Anders bowed.

“Forgive me, Prince Robarts, but would it be all right to arrange for a separate meal, for these people? I don’t wish to be demanding, or to give offense, but the common meals in their land tend to be smaller and while all here are prepared in skill for a high meal with the King at need, having had lessons, it might be easier on them to... not do that? If they aren’t needed.” He hung his head then, as if expecting a blow for being so uncouth and impolite.

Instead, the man relaxed, suddenly.

“Oh? Who would you send to the high meal then?”

Ducking again, Anders bobbed in place, just a bit.

“Princess Jasmin should attend, as should Sulana Meegan. I think... Depak Sona as well? We can lend you him for the event, but we should rather protect the others, if we can? I understand if the situation demands others, but...” He readied himself, to act humble, or even be struck, in case it was deemed to be a poor idea. Not that Prince Robarts had ever been anything except supportive of his efforts.

The man nodded then and looked concerned.

“We could have a small meal in the second hall? Is that appropriate? We should have someone in with them, to show that we aren’t stinting them. Who would you recommend for that?”

Again, he stared directly into Anders face, so that no one would mistake who was being asked the question.

It took a moment of thought, really.

“Prince Erold, his wife Princess Sweyn, and perhaps Princess Mathia, if any of them are available?” They were all younger individuals, but important, while not being so highly placed that it would seem out of place, them sharing a meal with the foreign Princesses.

That was a lot to ask for, and might seem out of place, since Sweyn was of the Modroc. Anders had a bit of a plan there, but didn’t know if anyone else would think it a good idea. Still, Prince Robarts simply nodded at him.

“I can ask after that? Regardless, we’ll have each of you in to meet with the King, in the coming days, if that won’t press you? He’s most interested in meeting you all. Anders... If we could meet after the event you have planned, this evening? Perhaps just before the meal for your event, if that works?”

That would give him a few hours to ready himself, so he nodded.

“That sound more than fine. Thank you, Prince Robarts.” He bowed then. Receiving one in return that didn’t seem ironic at all.

Chapter three

Anders had to scramble a bit to ready himself in time for his small magical spectacle. It was just a showing of the journey to the south, as well as a showing of the people from that far off land, in a friendly and light fashion. He did leave in a version of the large show that had been held for the common people in Lo’usa Tet, to show what was meant by doing a show for the people.

It wasn’t a complete story, truly, so he tried to make it more impressive, adding the music that he’d heard at several points, and showing dancing women in scanty costumes, which seemed to fill the room they were in and who moved around the individuals there.

That portion, who had come to see his little show, had shocked Anders at first. He’d expected to be performing for Prince Robarts alone, to be totally honest. Simply to illustrate what he was planning. Instead, the show room, a place that he’d never been invited to before in his entire time living in the castle, even if he knew it well, from having hidden behind its heavy curtains, many times, was filled with bodies. That meant at least a hundred people, all nobles and dignitaries were there to stare at his little travel tale.

Which meant he dressed things up, adding in blasts of warm air in time with the beat of the dragon’s wings, and, for the very first time ever in a show, added in scents at various points. He only had words to produced six such things, and needed only three of them. The scent of the ocean, tidied to not insult the noses of fine people, the scent of wood smoke burning and a particularly aromatic flower from the south. That one was put forward, made to seem like it grew over the whole room, between the people, just so he could share what it smelled like.

In short, for half a candle mark, Anders danced, waving his hands, muttering softly and working in a trance, visualizing images as carefully as possible. Especially when he showed the Sula and his wives, since giving insult there could give way to a war. That meant the man was a bit taller and slightly more attractive, without it being too much. Each of his wives was shown as realistically as possible, so that no one would accuse him of maligning them. Given Sulana Meegan was there, in her own person, watching the event, he understood that the whole thing would be reported, when she returned back to her homeland.

In the end, panting, standing to the side, he caused the room to go dark, then let the lamp light return to the room. Sweat dripped from him, so he covertly used a bit of magic to take that away from his skin, leaving him dry and more comfortable. The trick was using a small clay pot, about twenty feet away, to collect that up. Hopefully it wasn’t a thing anyone would need, in short order.

The size and shape of the space they were in altered, the back wall returning, showing the heavy red curtains with their golden ropes of silk and narrow stage, which went only about twenty feet back, to a heavy stone wall.

When Anders had done something similar in the palace of Sula Darian there had been a silence when he’d finished. This time was different. The nobles in the room, nearly as one, stood up, and started to pound their hands and feet, while calling out.

“Huzah!” A good dozen people were saying it, which he supposed was nice to hear. Better than the eerie silence of that other event.

Then, even if it had never really happened to him before, he was suddenly attacked by people from the audience, who, instead of giving him a well-deserved beating, simply hugged him, or pounded him on the shoulders. One of those, the first man there, was Baron Kilroy, in fact.

“Anders! That was... I’m left without words! Simply amazing! I feel as if I was the one on that journey, now!” The fellow smiled, and was pushed, a bit less than gently, out of the way. By Princess Peri, who smiled as she did it, leaning in to hold Anders.

“That... I agree Baron. A marvelous production.” She was supplanted, more gently, by a dozen others, all pressing in, rather uncomfortably.

Finally, after five minutes of this or so, he was confronted by Duma Sett, and her apprentice, Eltha Tenet. The older woman, who was far from old at all, smirked at him.

“So, High Master of Illusion, what do you have planned next?” The words were mirth filled, and not actually sour, even if they could have been taken that way.

He just grinned back and snorted a bit.

“High Master now? I fear I can’t meet that mark, even as a jest. I’m not even an apprentice in such things. Still, you think it was a worthy effort for a novice?” That portion of things was always hard for him. He got that he was making things happen and that they seemed to be functional enough, but he honestly couldn’t tell if he were doing things in a way that pleased others. Not really.

Eltha laughed then and shook her head, no one else moving in, finally.

“Truly, that was a very good presentation. The quality of the illusion could be improved, of course, but you also added other effects, which I can’t do, myself. Even at that, at times I felt as if I was watching the scene unfold for real, even looking for all your flaws and areas that need to be improved.” She shook her head then, giving him a sly look, from the side of her eye.

As if he were going to whine about her critique of his efforts.

Instead, he simply nodded.

“We can speak of that? Where I need to improve? Then I can, at least possibly, learn to do better, in the future.”

The words, honestly meant, got a laugh from the Duma.

“See, Eltha? This is what we must strive for, in our own work. You seek to tease him in his greatness, and he turns that into a way to become even more than he is. I agree though, let us scour this performance like fiends and curry favor by offering small corrections that most here wouldn’t notice anyway. We can meet for that, soon?”

He nodded, thinking about what his schedule might be like, in the coming days.

“That would... Perhaps tomorrow, when I come to clean the rooms in the morning? I’ll have Daren Willet in as well, so that he can clean your rooms with magic, while I stand back and call out suggestions he doesn’t need from me?”

Both women smiled, but looked puzzled.

“Daren will use magic?”

Anders waved that away. It was odd, after all.

“Yes. He’s also learning illusion, now. He started today, so we’ll want to push him for a bit. He’s planning to go to the front soon, to act as a healer and war mage there. I’m going with him, so we can’t rest too much in improving our skills. You can demand tests of us, to push us to greater things, perhaps?”

There was a clapping, from behind the women, who both turned to see a very well-dressed Depak, standing near Hoatha, who was in fine silks, but not in a robe, being dressed in very Istlan fashion, instead.

The Great One of Barquea smiled, a big enough thing that his mustache moved.

“That would be a very good idea. Especially in the area of illusion. You should both also seek to learn skills in magic from Anders? He’s the best teacher of such things I have ever encountered. Daren, the room servant?” He spoke as if he’d missed what the conversation had been about, before walking up, which was likely.

Duma Sett nodded then.

“He’s learned much of such things, I hear? We shall test him, then. If he’s learned much, we should seek to take him home, after the ending of his trials here?” There was a smile with the words, but Hoatha bowed in her direction, using the Barquean style for such things.

“If you can draw him there, that would be to the benefit of your land. As would taking lessons, as recommended. Even I have been sitting in on those. I have to agree, I have never seen a better teacher than Anders here, for such things. He has several students, each a power in their own right, after mere months of learning.”

That had a gentle nod, coming from Eltha, who smiled at the young-looking man. After all, Ganges was attractive enough and held a look which wasn’t too different from the people of her own homeland. Then, in the fashion of that place she cleared her throat and spoke in a way that could have easily started a fight, if she were speaking to a man of Istlan.

“Who are you then? Some expert in the mystical arts, I suppose?” There was a playful derision to the words, which, Anders finally understood, was actually her flirting, not being mean to the fellow. Allowing him a chance to prove himself, or at least explain, while coming to her attention.

He chuckled a bit, and bowed, slightly. It was a very informal thing.

Depak hid a grin, covering it with his left hand.

“Ah! Yes. This is my father, Hoatha Eta. Once a Sula of Barquea and the man who created the magic that we use there now, in the first place.”

Anders nodded at the words.

“He’s also working with Daren? I know, Eltha, you should work with Hoatha and make certain we’re all ready to go off to war. We need to find something to keep him busy, that isn’t really work... You two can meet, say mid-day tomorrow?”

Duma Sett went still for a moment, then snorted.

“You seek to heal the rift between Modroc and Barquea through a marriage of great persons? I don’t know if Eltha will count for that, truly. She’s mighty in illusion, so prized for that, but youthful still. Also, she’s of no particular level of birth, in our land.”

Anders waved that away.

“You know, I don’t think that really matters. We can make up titles for her, to repair such things. I’ll ask King Mathias about that idea, if we meet. The common man and woman care only that the wars won’t come again, too soon. At least to their own homes. If we tell them that some woman they’ve never heard of is being sacrificed to ensure that, they will prize her well enough, I think.”

He was trying to do his own teasing, but wasn’t certain it was coming across well at all. Instead of letting Hoatha speak, his son, looking at least two and a half decades his elder, smiled richly.

“Very good, Anders. We should investigate that. Later though. Make a note of it, so it isn’t forgotten? Now, I believe I was to be sent off to the high table of the King? That’s perhaps a bit off, being that I am only here as a private individual. Still, it’s good to know that I am being considered a friend. We should speak later, Clarise?”

Duma Sett nodded then, smiling.

“Yes! I have missed our... Talks. I feared we might never meet again. Yet here you are, back to see me, after only mere months? The war is over, even. I received a missive to that effect, only weeks ago, in fact. Something about a river coming into being in an inconvenient place? I’d love to hear how that happened.” She looked at Depak, as if she already knew what had taken place there.

The man himself merely chuckled a bit.

“Oh? Well, for that story, you should perhaps ask Daren Willet. I wasn’t there to see what happened, only hearing of it later.” Then, being enigmatic, possibly on purpose, the man walked off, smiling just enough to seem pleasant about it.

As they’d spoken the room had emptied, since it was time to sit for the late meal. He figured that he could sneak into the low hall, and eat there, easily enough. He’d been gone for a time, but the folk there were used to seeing him. It wasn’t until he got out into the gray stone hallway that Prince Erold grabbed him. That was into a hug, with much slapping on the back.

“There you are! That show was... Hmm... I don’t know... you can do better than that, don’t you think?” There was a smile being fought from his lips, as Sweyn moved in, the tall, dark skinned girl holding him closely enough that it was probably improper. He did it back though.

After all, if he was going to be thrashed by Erold for it, he might as well at least try to enjoy it. More to the point, it was clear that the Princess was feeling a bit lonely, even on meeting her for mere seconds.

“Don’t worry, Anders. When we go to visit my home, we’ll take you with us and there you will be appreciated. Those with magic are, as they deserve.” She looked at her husband, a bit grumpily, though he grinned at her and patted her on the arm.

“That’s probably just the truth, isn’t it? That was... I have no words. I cried. I won’t even hide that, Anders. That you managed a thing of such beauty... Truly incredible.” Those words just got a nod in return.

“Truly. Still, there are things to improve, if I ever have the time. Oh, you can clear your schedules for a time? We’re putting you in magical lessons, and increased fighting practice, Erold. Sweyn... I have a project that I’d like to beg your aid in, as well. It will mean working with Princess Salina, which... Well...” He ducked his head then, and looked around. “She’s doing well enough lately, but can be a bit bratty and entitled. Not that you heard it from me. The other Princesses are all better than that, but Salina is the one who agreed to help work up plans for a palace for Duke Lister. I understand if you want to work with the other ladies, instead, but please give Salina a chance? She honestly is doing better.”

He waited, not truly thinking that he was cleverly tricking the short haired girl at all. He was hit, on the arm, for trying.

“You want me to work with a recent enemy?”

Sighing a bit, he nodded.

“That too, of course. Working together to support Duke Lister will be a powerful sign that old grudges can be placed behind us. Doing that soon is better than waiting. Clearly though, work with Princess Salina, but become friends with her other sisters. Princess Jasmin is to marry the Duke, and is a kind woman, for a princess. Her younger sisters are just as kind. At least the ones we brought with us. So, befriend them, if possible? If nothing else, it will give you a way to gain information about a former enemy. The other way around, of course, so be careful there?” She was a Princess of Istlan as well, after all. That meant he had to take her side in things, regardless of anything else.

There was another hug, which was quicker this time.

“I think I understand. How do I meet these ladies?”

She looked up, as someone closed with Anders, from behind. He turned, ready to fight, his right hand prepared to make whoever was there explode, his left readying a shield. It was just Prince Robarts though, who smiled.

“We have that ready, in the small hall? A meeting for you two, Princess Mathia, and the Princesses of Barquea. Anders will guide you through that. We... I didn’t know who they might want there, so prepared a separate meal for their people. Is that welcome, do you think? We can alter things, if we hurry.”

Anders snorted a bit, but grinned, half expecting to be glared at for the rude noise. Robarts just looked hopeful.

“That’s nearly perfect. I was just telling Prince Erold that we were putting him in magical lessons in the morning, so his schedule will need to be cleared. Can that be arranged? We need Princess Mathia if she has the magical skill. You as well, of course, Princess Sweyn? Eltha Tenet... I think the plan is to marry her off to Hoatha Eta, Depak Sona’s father. At least I was teasing her about that, earlier and we should try to carry that forward enough for it to age.”

Princess Sweyn tittered, hiding her smile by turning away.

“That’s a kindness. Still, perhaps someone closer to her own age? The father of Ambassador Depak must be, what, at least seventy?”

The men there looked at him, as if interested in the idea, for real.

So, he nodded.

“Older than that. A High Magician and skilled in all other kinds of magic, however. All of them. If she can capture his heart and take him home with her, she will have increased the power of her land greatly. He had to fight against your people in this war, so that might cause strain, but if she can look past that, it would be a great thing.”

It really would, of course. Perhaps not being the best thing for Barquea, in the long run. Modroc was weak in personal magic, and relied heavily on spirits and powerful beings that possessed people, instead. Part of that seemed to be that they lacked the basic magical skill in the same levels as most other peoples, for some reason. They had some though, and if they were clever, getting Ganges the Great and Terrible to train them could lead them to being most powerful, eventually.

Robarts nodded then.

“I don’t know about that, but he’s a comely man, looking no more aged than my brother, Alpert. You should investigate that, in the coming days? I should walk you all to the meal we have ready, if we don’t need to scramble and have it changed to something else. This way?” There was a pat on Anders’ shoulder, to move him along in the right direction.

Which made little enough sense. After all, he was simply himself. Used to simpler dining, and all that. Not that it was truly lacking. Barons and even people more highly placed ate in the low hall, after all. Some boy from the castle doing that was the odd thing there.

He was dressed well enough for the meal, he thought, in brown silk, in a loose and flowing fashion. Still, being lazy wasn’t a good thing, so he muttered as they walked.

“Gliner sekt ere fen.” It sounded simple, but the first word was a complete outfit, meant to fit his own, or another’s, body perfectly. The second informed his mind of what colors to choose. In this case it was an array that held golds, deep and shining red colors and black boots.

The style was that of Istlan, but only of moderate level for such things. Meaning he looked fine, for a meal, but as if he were wearing his best clothing, to meet with the nobles, and not quite reaching upward to the level of things the others had on.

The others kept moving, but Princess Sweyn sighed.

“I can’t do magic. It would be so convenient, learning to do that to my own clothing. You can show Eltha how to do that, you think?”

He did, so nodded.

“If she wishes to try. Erold doesn’t get a choice, since we’re heading out to the front, shortly. We need to rout the Yansians by mid-summer, since it’s likely that we’re facing fresh attacks from the north. Dora. I have some news there. After the meal, Prince Robarts?” It wasn’t that secret, but it wasn’t for the hallway, either.

At least he didn’t think so.

There was a nod then.

“You and Erold will ride out and thrash the Yansians for us?” He seemed a bit dry on the idea.

Anders just nodded.

“Not alone, but that’s the current plan. Daren Willet is going as well. We should have Depak and Hoatha Eta, along with us. We might want to hold them back, if we can. There are some reasons for that. Either of them could change the course of this war in moments, of course, and they are here in their own persons, not as officials, so they’re planning for battle. We need to be seen to stand on our own, however.”

Erold grinned, as if he were joking and Prince Robarts went suddenly serious.

“After the meal, then. Thank you, Anders. I’ll have the needed people at that meeting. Here’s the very door we need. I’ll leave you all here? I can’t be late to the high meal. After all, we have a queen from another land in attendance. Sending his own wife to us shows great trust. I can’t be seen to be lacking diligence there.” He scurried off, with that explanation.

Interestingly, Princess Sweyn nodded.

“Yes. That really is a grand thing. I was surprised to hear about it, in fact. That there is a Sulana in attendance with the younger women? Sending that many here also shows incredibly close ties. I wonder why? I mean, it doesn’t make sense, does it?” Her faint accent, much lighter than it had been half a year before, seemed curious, not accusing.

Still, she stopped speaking, as they stepped into the small dining room. It was a grandly decorated place, but no larger than the bedroom that Anders had lived in there, his entire life. No more than seven full paces in any direction, he thought. In the center was a nicely set table, and seated there, next to each other, were several people.

Javina, Salina and Lissa, of course, as well as Princess Peri and at the head of the table, was Queen Maura, herself. He smiled at the woman, and bowed, going deep, in second courtly.

“Queen Maura! How nice to see you!”

“Master Brolly. I hope I’m not intruding on the meal? Robarts mentioned that you were plotting something and wanted to have an ear in the room. Using his own mother that way... Tisk. Still, it gives me a chance to welcome our guests.” There was an expansive smile at the ladies there, and a bob of the head.

Salina did it back.

“This is an honor, Queen Maura. Thank you for seeing to our comfort, like this.”

Lissa and Javina both smiled and murmured something similar, if softly, making them seem almost shy.

Anders nodded at the Queen then.

“That’s fine. You can help me in my clever plans? Or at least shut down the ones that I imagine to be clever, but that aren’t?”

He was ignored, probably meaning that he was being rude or uncouth, so he kept his words to himself for a while, and was pulled down next to Sweyn, with Lissa on his other side. Prince Erold was on the far side of his wife, near his mother, with the other girls on the other side of the table.

They were served in high fashion, which everyone there managed perfectly. He’d called on them to practice on the ship, eating each meal that way, every night. It had forced him to serve them himself, attempting to ape the serving techniques of the people doing the real work there. Daren was better at that than he was, so they were all used to seeing it done correctly.

The conversation was in Istlan, spoken, in the main with an accent, but nothing too strong to prevent understanding.

At the halfway point, no one having spoken of more than gardens and the weather, Queen Maura looked down the table at him and gave him a rather dry, fairly rueful, smile.

“Now, Master Brolly, you have clever plotting?”

He nodded, swallowing the bite in his mouth before answering. It was a bit of venison, stewed in wine, with a sugar base.

“I do, Queen Maura! A few things, in fact. Princess Mathia and Prince Erold are going into magic lessons, in the morning. You’re willing to do that as well, of course? Indeed, if you wish, I’d like to have Lissa work with you on that, personally? You have the talent for it and should at the very least learn what can be done, now. She’s learning to be a teacher of such things. Just, clearly, Princess Lissa, don’t use that stick you were given by Master Belford, too much? As for the rest, I’m roping Princess Salina and Princess Sweyn into designing a castle or palace for Duke Lister. The lands he was given aren’t well built up, yet. I also have a treasure for him, to aid him on his way. Daren Willet and Fenris Demo Gull aided me in pulling riches from the sea, for that.”

The woman blinked at him, then, seeming sour, nodded.

“Lessons, at my age? Well, I suppose. I have visions, but that doesn’t aid me much in the world. When will you be available to watch me flounder and fail, Princess Lissa?”

The girl smiled then and shook her head a bit.

“Whenever you have time, of course. You won’t fail, however. The new methods for learning are simply incredible! Anders Sona taught me magic. I was thought too slow to learn such things, having failed for three years using the regular practices for that, no matter how hard I tried. In one morning he had me moving large stones, with my mind! In a week I learned more than most learn in many, many years of practice. It isn’t easy, true, but no one has failed. You won’t, either.” She nodded then, seeming confident of that fact.

Which got the Queen to smile.

“Very well, if it’s that good, I can’t pass it up, can I? Now, those plans sound advanced. Well thought out. You can afford to have a palace built?” She looked at him directly then, as if she suspected he was over reaching.

Salina nodded.

“He can. More to the point, I think the goal is for him to build this for us, to our design, with the rest of us doing little bits of work, so that it’s a group effort? He raised several military cities for us, in Barquea. I heard that some of the nicer buildings were very nearly to the level of decoration we’ll need, with carvings in the walls and well-formed shapes. Small though. A duke needs something more expansive.” She looked around covertly, as if judging the building they were in, which truly did look nice, but was small to her way of thinking.

Sweyn laughed a bit, then.

“I thought the same, when I first moved here. It’s small, for a powerful man like King Mathias. It isn’t lack of wealth, either. It’s the cold that comes mid-winter. Even in small rooms it is hard to stay warm. That’s in a tight and well-built structure, as well. We’ll need to keep that in mind, in our planning. Perhaps a dual building? A smaller, tight, winter section and a larger summer palace, that can be opened in the nicer times?”

She was teasing, but Salina simply nodded.

“That could work. I had heard it was cold here at times. Is it worse than this?” She shivered a bit, even if she could have used magic to warm herself, or the room, if it was needed. There was no gooseflesh on her arms, so she was fine.

Anders nodded.

“Much so. This is mid-spring, here. We’re further to the south as well, than the Lister lands. So warmth in winter is more important than raw size. We need to look into a way to manage that. Two palaces might be the way to do that. I’ll investigate that, if I get a chance? You two can do that, as well, of course.”

It was a throw away line, but Salina nodded at him and smirked.

“Sure, make us do all the work. Luckily, we can push part of that off on Great One Hoatha. He’s going to work with us on this, Princess Sweyn. If you’re all right with that, of course?”

The Modroc Princess nodded.

“That would be good? I think the current plan is to marry him off to Eltha Tenet? I should meet him and ensure that that is a good match.”

The conversation turned to that topic, instead of his other, hopefully better, plans. That was fine though. Anders just sat, ate, and enjoyed being home again. Finally. Not that such comforts would last long.

Chapter four

Instead of meeting in Prince Robarts’ office, as Anders had suspected would happen, that being the normal pattern, Anders had to find King Mathias’ meeting hall, which was off the high hall, toward the back. A place that Anders had been before, once. There had been an attack at the time. By Ganges, after a fashion, since he’d made that kind of thing for Master Franken, who, while he’d had magic of his own, hadn’t bothered to become very facile or well skilled with it. Not that he’d bothered to show the world, at all.

That, where the magics used by the man had come from, was a huge problem. A thing that Anders was putting off mentioning, himself. It was a known thing, however, so he didn’t doubt he was about to be scolded, possibly cast out or killed, for bringing Ganges the Great and Terrible to the castle. He had reasons for it, but Master Franken had killed an important and beloved woman there.

That couldn’t be easily forgiven.

Ganges had been the one to create the magic powered by Estella Ford’s death. Her very heart ripped from her chest in a horrible fashion. Merely so that Master Franken could run away, at great speed. A powerful trick, but one that the man could have learned to do with mere meditation, if he’d had the learning and discipline to do so. If he would have only bothered.

Instead, he’d stooped to blood magic and taken innocent life, to run away. A thing that, in the end, was wasted. Franken could have stayed at the castle, not fleeing at all, and not been treated any more harshly than he ended up being. Truly, even with some attempts on the life of the King and Heir, there probably would have only been an execution over it.

Instead, Anders had his arms and legs broken first, and had considered skinning him alive, to remove the magical tattoos on his skin.

Still, he expected to find the room empty, perhaps with some military advisors there, along with the King and Prince Robarts. Instead, it was an interestingly mixed collection of people. Those military advisors, certainly, but also Depak Sona, Princess Aisla and Prince Alpert, as well. They were near the front, next to the King, himself. Anders was saved a seat, halfway down the table, by Master Tolan. The old man smiled at him.

“Here, Master Brolly.” That was all he said, no one speaking, until the King did, after taking five minutes to read something from many sheets of paper. The color of that was different, being like that found in Barquea, being a deep amber color.

Looking up, the man nodded, seeming rather stern.

“Princess Aisla, could you explain this to us?”

She nodded then.

“Certainly, Your Highness.” She didn’t stand, but did look down the table.

“This is the latest ranking for my people, as to who is in line for the throne and their place in that line. In Barquea, in part, their heir is chosen based on their favor with the Sula, which is based on what they do, over the course of the year. Truly, the new listings only come every five years or so, since things don’t change that quickly, most of the time. We’ve had some impressive movement, this time. My brother Naveed is still the heir, so is number one on the listing. I’ve been at the nineth place for several postings, and moved to number four, since having a child here binds us rather closely.” She grinned then. “That’s considered important there. If you make the top twenty or so, you’re considered favored by the Sula. If you make the top ten, you’re in actual contention for the throne. I won’t be put in that way, living here, of course. It’s too hard to really do what is needed at such a remove.”

Several of the people there nodded, and Prince Robarts smiled and bowed in her direction.

“Still, that’s impressive! Should we hold a party in your honor?”

Aisla let her eyes twinkle a bit then.

“Of course! Don’t forget the others, however.” She looked down the table at Anders then. “Jasmin took my place at number nine, which was a vast leap upward for her. Not just for marrying well, either. She recently became a master of the magician’s arts, as well as others, including Anders’ communications skills. She’s here to be the main communication between our peoples. Also, marrying into your family didn’t hurt, King Mathias.”

The man looked at her then and let his chin drop a bit.

“We’re honored. Having two daughters of the Sula’s house here with us, is meaningful. There was more, I noticed.”

She nodded.

“Yes, Lissa is listed in fifteenth place, Salina in nineteenth and Javina in seventeenth. All for their works in magic. Lissa was considered unteachable, and is now showing skills that no one ever has at her age.” She smiled up the table then. “The important people here are the ones you want me to get to? Daren Willet is listed as a Prince of Barquea.”

Anders had to stare then, and after a moment, clapped.

“That’s wonderful! Why though?”

The King shuffled papers then, and read the reason off to him.

“Daren Willet, healer and war mage from Istlan, did, in his own person, aid in support of the army of Barquea, in the war against the Modroc. He healed over three hundred men who would have died without his aid, took physical and mental hardship to help secure the eastern border, and worked tirelessly to show the bonds between the people of Istlan and Barquea.”

Anders clapped again. It was stunning to hear of, the man being his friend as he was.

Aisla grinned about it.

“True, he’s not actually in the running for control over the land there, but even being on the list is very important. He can, by right, go and live at the palace of the Sula, for instance. He can demand an allowance and if he chooses, he could work from his spot of two-hundred and fourteen, all the way to the top. This is no small thing.”

Prince Robarts actually teared up, smiling over it.

“So, a party for him as well? That’s... Incredible. He’s a magical healer now?”

Depak spoke then, his voice deep and calm.

“He is perhaps one of the top twenty or so healers in our two lands. Also, a fair hand in other magics. He, as well, has learned to use the new communications magics, for instance. In addition, he sought to learn the skills of the war mage, so that he might go to the front here and do battle with your enemies. He is not the most powerful user of magic, but I have rarely seen one be more skilled in such a short period of time. Not until recently, that is.” He snorted a bit and smiled at the King. “Anders is very adept at teaching people such things. He has grown in his own right, to the level of true master, already, but he is bringing more than merely his own skills back with him. Your castle guard Demo Gull, the former servant here, Prince Daren, and three spoiled Princesses of Barquea. Also, Princess Lissa.” He grinned at his own words, which had Aisla actually laughing.

“That is very true. They’re doing better of late, though, so we shouldn’t count them out yet.”

Robarts cleared his throat then.

“You mentioned such training for others, didn’t you, Anders? Princess Mathia and Prince Erold?”

He nodded then.

“Yes. I don’t want to take away from his duties, but I think that we should increase combat training for Prince Erold as well. I was planning on taking him, Gull and Daren off to the front shortly. Dora has powerful magics from Ganges the Great and Terrible. The flow of that has stopped now, but they have the objects and need only to power them with blood and death. We need to address Yanse, first, but they weren’t being backed with magics on that level.”

The King frowned then, and sighed.

“I had heard some of that. From other sources. There won’t be movement from Dora for some time, since it is still the cold season up there. Soon though. How did you find this information, Master Brolly?”

He nearly lied, then took a deep breath and fought for a very calm and even demeanor.

“Ganges told me. He’s come over to our side, but there are two versions of him. We have the original, but another of him, from a crystal of memory, resides in the head of a woman. We... Have information on that, but should deal with that in secret? There’s a plan in place. She, not the man, is the real problem. Still, he was on her side, so much of the work being done has been his.”

Almost everyone in the room was clearly baffled at what he was saying. The King understood his words though, as did Prince Robarts.

It was the younger man who queried him.

“How... Certain are you that this man is truly in our pocket now?”

Anders shrugged, and shook his head, rudely.

“Honestly? We have to suspect a trick in it. At the same time, I don’t think that we, the world, can stop him, if it is a trick. By playing along and being his friend, I hope to bring him to us, if he isn’t already. Recall, he’s lived for over fifteen hundred years. He is a master of every form of magic to have ever been invented, as far as we know. If we can bring him to the side of right, that might be our best, possibly only, chance to defeat him. Not through trickery, either. He can read minds, so we have to mean it. Still, he seems to be genuine so far, so we lose little by trusting in him. For now.”

After a moment, before any of the generals at the table could slam a fist down and demand battle, King Mathias tightened his face.

“We are supposed to simply eat the death of Estella?”

Anders cried then, a tear falling down his cheek.

“I... yes. He did not order the death, or so he claims. Franken acted on his own, out of fear. The spell was made by him, though. Imprinted into the skin of the traitor, with his own hands, working for the woman with Ganges mind inside of her. My understanding is that she, most likely, also didn’t order such a thing. Still, we need to know more and the truth is, even in our rage, we can’t beat these people. Not using force of arms. Probably not using magic, either. That leaves only words and guile.”

Truly, there were other things they might try. None of them were good things, however.

The King closed his eyes.

“Very well, Anders. You’ll be in charge of this for us. We’ll speak on this, in a more private setting, tomorrow. Now, I believe there was one more person on this list, Princess? Not that the clear personage of importance isn’t Prince Daren, of course. We should probably inform him of this, don’t you think?”

Anders nodded.

“We should, Sire. Tomorrow after we finish cleaning the rooms of our guests and those in the Ambassadors wing?”

Depak had to smother another smile, but nodded at the idea.

“That seems fitting. Prince or not, there is no excuse for him to stint on his practices. Especially if those of similar status here are being put into such tutelage? Not that he can’t be put to work, directly, if needed. Anders as well, if such is required, of course.”

That had Anders nodding, since it was fitting for a man of thirteen, not an adult there in Istlan, to be put to simple tasks or learning a trade.

The King simply nodded.

“Very well. Magic and fighting you said, for Erold? You’ll attend that as well, as your main focus, for the time being, Anders. Now, what would it cost for Master Tolan to sit in on these lessons?”

The old man actually blushed and seemed strained.

Anders smiled.

“Nothing. The current plan is to provide free teaching for anyone who is willing to risk showing they have the magical skill. I don’t have time for it, before battle, but we could use the aid in wizardry skills as well. I have much to learn in that area, so you being there would be most welcome, Master Tolan. We’ll begin after the morning meal?”

That got a nod, from the King, who actually laughed.

“Very good! I will inspect the new magical troops, as soon as you feel they are ready, Master Anders. Master Tolan. Now, perhaps we should stop teasing the boy, Princess Aisla?”

She sighed.

“Anders Brolly also made the list. In the tenth position. The reasoning there...” She shook her head, and glared a bit at Depak, for some reason.

The man gave Anders a direct look.

“I rather advised the Sula not to advance you too highly, at such a young age. You were slated to move to the second position. It was the recommendation of several people that it happen. Prince Naveed offered to step aside, without contest, so that you could be the heir. Prince Nedros, who is currently in the third place, suggested the same. Even Princess Sendra allowed that it might be the most advantageous thing to do for our people. You met her, at the front? General Sendra?”

Anders nodded. The intense woman had made an impact, after all. She hadn’t been nice, but he had to admit, she wasn’t mean either, just efficient in a way that had left him feeling inadequate.

“I recall her. I hadn’t understood that she was a Princess.” He turned to the others then. “She’s good at being a general, is all. Not pampered or soft. Then Nedros, Prince Nedros, isn’t either. I thought he rather hated me, though. I ended up annoying him most of the time, I think.”

That got waved away, by Depak.

“He mentioned that to me as well, several times. Also, that you were clearly the right one to lead. I think it was when you spent your own funds, earned with your own effort, to buy food for those of Barquea, without ever mentioning it that sent him over the edge. That or how you didn’t complain when you were stabbed with a sword through the chest, or when you drove yourself to death, to protect your people here.”

Anders ignored the leading portions, and spread his hand.

“I’m not a man of that place. Prince Naveed is the right person for that task. He knows his people and is of good heart. Nedros is as well... even if he doesn’t love me, personally.”

He didn’t want to stint Princess Sendra, but the truth was he didn’t know her as well as the others. Princess Aisla winked in his direction.

“Still, creating the Great Eastern River was impressive enough that your name is being spoken of as important back home. Not as impressive as what Prince Daren managed, of course. After all, you were going to be placed on the list anyway, even if you’d been a rude little brat. That you showed more than that impressed many. Even the servants found you to be passable. Daren, however, earned a place on a list that almost no one ever does, without being born to it. Even you, Depak Sona, had a line in that way, through your father. True, you climbed the list on your own, but being who you were born had to help a bit.”

The man rolled his eyes, and everyone else looked a bit strange.

Anders nodded, having felt that one himself.

“Right. Something like fifty years ago, Depak Sona used to be the Sula of Barquea. He gave that up and moved to the countryside, returning control of power back to Aisla’s family line. Some thirty years before that, his father had served in that position. Long, full terms, as well. Leaving on good terms, for both of them, I believe?”

Aisla nodded.

“That’s my understanding of it. Still, Daren Willet managed that, starting as a servant, from another land. There are only a dozen or so others who have managed that in written history. Not a single one was from the north, either.”

Everyone went silent then, and eyed Depak.

Meaning Anders had an idea.

“So, a small party for him? I’m certain his parents will want to learn of this. They might need to move with him to Barquea, once the wars are over here. We can’t prevent him from climbing the ranks with good works, after all.”

There was a pause to all speech in the room, until the King cleared his throat.

“Very well. Robarts, will you assign someone to put something together for Prince Daren? Who should do that?”

Thinking for a second, Anders waved slightly, which had the man nod in his direction, allowing him to speak. Not that he hadn’t just interrupted before.

“How about Lady Martya? Lady Lyse, as well. They have the needed skills and should have knowledge of the correct people for this. Plus, Daren, Prince Daren, traveled with us, so Lady Lyse knows him. It could be daunting for him to suddenly have to work with people he wasn’t familiar with. Not that he’ll truly have a choice there.”

General Nesmith tapped the table, finally speaking.

“He’s good though? In magic? Also, you’re planning to head that way, Master War Mage?” The words were oddly pointed and hopeful at the same time. Using a title like that meant the man was considering him in that capacity, not the new matter with him being a Prince.

A thing that he hadn’t considered, but which wasn’t new to him, really. For months he’d been called that in Barquea. It simply hadn’t occurred to him that it would follow him back home. Like a stray puppy, instead of a title.

“Yes. Soon as well, if that’s allowed? We also have aid from Barquea planned. Building and firming up roads, so they won’t turn to slop, in the rains to come in the fall. The Princesses will see to that? Perhaps Princess Mathia, if she’s up to the task, in time? Not that building roads with magic is women’s work. I just don’t want them too near the battles. Except...” He shook his head then and sighed.

Depak nodded.

“Yes. They are beings of power, now. Treating them as too fragile will damage them, over time. Still, the labor of such work is both honorable and will truly help the effort of a war, greatly. When will we be setting forth, do you think?”

That, it turned out, wasn’t up to him. It was General Nesmith who took over then.

“For working on roads? As soon as possible. They can do this and travel with the next caravan going out?”

Anders let his head move side to side.

“Yes. I’ll make sure they can do that. How many days do we get for that?”

“Two weeks. We can’t really travel yet. Now, how do we pay these mages to do this for us?”

Depak chuckled.

“Pay them? They’re the students. Anders is setting them a task. They will do it. The biggest question isn’t if these ladies are up to the task, but rather if we should allow Anders to risk himself in battle, instead of being set to training others.”

Farad thought for a moment, and then had to agree. Anders, the boy inside saw it as a prize being stolen from him. Then, hardship seemed an adventure to him. Death, that of others, seemed a game. The old historian wanted to avoid that kind of thing, if he could. Which wasn’t his place there. He needed to back the boy, if at all possible.

“Have those willing to learn come to me, and I’ll start their training and do that on the road, as we travel. It will be hard, but we don’t want the weak in the first few batches of students. That’s why I’m demanding Prince Erold and Princess Mathia. Both of them are strong, inside. Not tempered, perhaps, but it would be a mistake to think they weren’t up to this challenge.”

The words had everyone staring at him, as if he were wrong, or mentally slow. He had actual reasons to think what he was, however. Things he didn’t mention, at the moment.

General Nesmith tapped the table again.

“Very well. Have those going ready in two weeks. It will be the hardship of the road, which you know well, Master Brolly. This time of year will alternate lightning storms and heavy rains, with fair weather. Plan on going alone, if it becomes needed.”

He simply agreed. If he went, Daren would, without a doubt. Even if he was a prince. Gull wasn’t weak at all, so he could be asked as well, with good certainty of success.

“It will be done, General.”

Anders was allowed to leave then, the tenor of the room even more subdued than when he’d gone inside. It was late, but not so much so that he couldn’t drag himself to his room. That, when he opened the door, was a bit musty seeming. It had been closed for nearly half a year, after all. Instead of making it smell like flowers, he just changed his clothing to sleepwear and climbed into his straw filled bed. It was comfortable enough for him, being used to such things, now.

He did open the shutters though, which made him cool all night long, and meant that he woke with the birds, who called out the coming dawn before it truly made the sky light. Getting up, he cleaned his room, and saw to his pack. When he made a light, using magic, muttering a complex spell, just for the practice of it, he saw that there were things in there with him. Boxes, which held gold and riches. All four of them, meaning he had the things that belonged to Daren and Demo as well. They were sealed, the wood formed at the seams, so that no one could open them. Not without a heavy hammer and a good bit of time to break them open.

Also, his clothing and his box of trinkets, that needed to be given to people. That was in a sealed case as well. A smaller thing that had started life as a crate for fruit. Now it looked tight, but plain on the outside, instead of polished and decorated. Like a block of smoothed wood.

Sitting at his little table, thinking for a moment, he planned out what was going to be needed for the day. In the moment nothing came to him. That was just sleep, fouling his mind. He focused and considered what he wanted to know for the coming trip. How to easily repair and harden roads, using a spell that would turn on and off with a simple hand gesture. Not a thing linked to the hand all the time though, just as an indicator, only active after speaking a spell a single time. It would be easier than saying the thing a hundred times a day or more.

The energy use needed to be better, as well. Daren had to be able to do things like that, without moving so slowly that his horse had to be annoyed by moving at half pace. Then they all needed to be able to build things, and create hygiene facilities. They needed more healing, as well. Also, improved combat magics.

True, he wasn’t taking all the girls to war, but that didn’t mean it might not find them, anyway. If it did happen, then he wanted the people working with him to survive and for anyone daring to harm them to never be able to do it again. That meant a heavy focus on certain things. It was a lot, for two weeks.

Not so much for Daren, who had all of it down. Mainly. He needed some work on road building. The Princesses of Barquea were up on things as well. Erold and Mathia were going to have to work almost constantly, to learn enough in time.

A thing that Anders was certain would make him most popular in certain circles.

Still, they could keep learning on the road, sitting in the back of a wagon, or walking, to toughen their resolve, even if they weren’t up to making roads, on their own, yet. That worked out, he stood, changed his clothing to a simply brown outfit that was proper for cleaning, seeming like rough canvas, if clean and tidy. Then, rather directly, he moved to the ambassadorial wing. He started at the door that used to house Depak Sona, not knowing who was there at all. That, it turned out, was a rather grumpy seeming man, who glared at him, and spoke in Scara.

“Do you know what time it is?”

He nodded and simply spoke as if he were the one in the right, waking the poor man up.

“It’s nearly daybreak. Time to clean the rooms. Are you the new Ambassador from Barquea?”

The man nodded, his breath showing that the last evening had involved a lot of heavy drinking.

“I am. Relid Spent. Ambassador, like you said. You speak Scara? Good. I’ve been fighting to get things done here, not speaking the Istlan tongue well enough. It’s early to clean the rooms though, isn’t it? The man who normally does that tends to arrive in mid-day. Only if I’m out, as well. I thought that was the way here.”

The older fellow glared again, but managed not to seem ready to hit him or anything.

“In, then. It’s so early these people will think I’m demanding, pushing you around like this. It’s not that clean here.”

That was a simple truth, showing that whoever had been doing the job hadn’t been doing it that well. He started with the chamber pot, which had been well used, and opened the shutters, using magic for the task. Then he started in on things, calling out spells, one after the other. The man, seeming a bit unsteady, simply stood and watched him work. He was a bit bleary eyed, but nodded after a few spells were cast, instead of seeming amazed.

“Wo ere ot ere, fen.” As the water filled the basin on the wash stand, he started to cool the room, then left it. There was cold air blowing in already, after all.

Then he removed the dust from the bedding in the other room, and without asking, pulled the man’s clothing out, cleaning all of it, then removing all the dust and debris from the room and cleaned the fireplace out. That was a mess, but only took a few moments to see to. When he was finished, he turned to the man and bowed.

“Say, do you know a Corporal Larn Spent? Serving with the seventh army, under Captain Nedros?”

There was a blink then, from bloodshot eyes.

“My son. He’s made Corporal? More, you know of him? That’s unusual, being so far from there.”

Anders nodded.

“I rode with him a few months back, along the front between Modroc and Barquea. I was working as Depak Sona’s servant at the time. That and improving roads and some other work. Good man, Corporal Spent. A good soldier, as well.” That was actually true. He was also a wizard, if not that great of one.

That part didn’t get mentioned.

“Ah? Very good. May I ask your name, good sir?”

“Anders Brolly.”

The man just nodded then and waved him out.

“I get woken up at this unhealthy hour every day from now on?”

“For now. I’m leaving in two weeks. To the front here.”

“Really? That seems off. You’re a trace young to send off like that, aren’t you? Well, that isn’t my business. I’m just here for these fine people to get drunk and ply with presents. A job meant to get me out of the way, I think. Still, they don’t make it hard, so there’s that. Thank you, Anders Brolly. I...” The man made a face then. “Should I give you coin for this? We don’t do that at the palace back home, but I’ve only been there a few times. I haven’t been certain if that’s the way here. Maybe that’s why I haven’t been having my room cleaned in a proper fashion? Certainly not by magic. Even at home that wouldn’t be a thing.”

Anders grinned then.

“No, on the coin. I’ll talk to some people here and see if we can’t smooth that over. I’ll ask Daren Willet to come in the evening, to see if you need anything, for now. Um, he’s a Prince. Of Barquea? The last one on the list, added for his good works there in the war. Healing and some other things of use. He used to be a servant here and we haven’t told him about his new status yet. There should be a party for that, in a few days. You should attend that, being from that land, of course. I can get you invited, I think?”

There was another rather drunken, nod.

“Do that. I didn’t know we had a new Prince here. I heard that Princess Jasmin is coming? Princess Aisla is coming back as well. I’ve never met either of them. We should meet, of course. When I’m sober, though. I drink, but last night was... Well, Baron Tenvet had a few rather nice bottles and was willing to share. I think. He kept pouring my cup full. I probably agreed to marry his cow or something. I really can’t speak the language here well enough yet.”

Anders didn’t offer to teach him Istlan, even if he knew that he should see to that, at the very least. He was just so busy, suddenly. Plus, he needed to get to the next rooms. That meant leaving, bowing himself out, and then going door to door, waking people up. Half of them were, to be fair, already awake for the day. Duma Sett came to her door, fully clothed and with her face made up.

“Anders! You came to speak to me, as promised?”

He nodded.

“Yes. Also, to clean your room. The poor Ambassador from Barquea was living in filth. There’s going to be some yelling over that, I fear. From me. Now, quick, explain where I failed in my illusions last night, as I make certain you’re kept in at least some kind of comfort?” He worked quickly, and the state of the room was a little better than the one next to them had been. Not by much, but enough.

Some of the other rooms were better, the people inside of them having cared for things themselves, while he and Daren were gone.

It took several hours to set things right, even using magic. He ate his early meal in the low hall and decided that it was time for him, a boy who had lived there his entire life, to do what Master Belford would have, had he been there.

“I’m going to need a stick.”

Chapter five

Anders didn’t run out and berate anyone for not doing their job. It was, actually, in his plans, but being a thing he’d never done in his entire life, he pulled back from the task, working out how to best get the job done, first. Instead, he moved to collect his new students and the others who had already been working on magic for the last weeks and months, after the early meal.

The hardest people to get to were Princess Mathia and Gull. The first because, for some reason, no one had told the lovely Princess that he was actually serious about his plans to work her like a rented horse. Gull thought he actually had a job as a guard there still, so had turned out for his duty.

Which was fine, in the second case. After all, Captain Ford, now a duke, had done the same thing. They were together when he found them, so, instead of whining about the change to his plans, Anders just nodded at them, and grinned.

“Well met! I was thinking an early practice for Gull, then having everyone learning magic come here, in the afternoon, to learn to fight?” He didn’t really mean it, since forcing that kind of thing on the delicate Princesses would probably be a good way to have fits thrown at him for several hours.

Captain Ford just glared at him, as if he were being annoying. Then he, a bit grudgingly, nodded.

“You want to take Gull out of being a guard?”

Anders shook his head.

“No? I just don’t want him to fall behind everyone else. He can practice and work, or do his job, at the same time. This is mainly about making certain he knows that I didn’t forget about him.” The man was standing right there and made a rude gesture with his hands and arms, but laughed.

“Fine, fine. Make me do twice as much. I can use my wizard skills and stand guard. Not easily, but...”

Anders cleared his throat, ignoring the obvious. That he was being strange and out of place. It was true, so he simply nodded.

“That works. Go over everything else. I’ll write up the new magical phrases you need to learn, instead of drinking or sleeping at night. The plan is for all of us to do some road work in two weeks, so be ready to travel. That might not happen, if you’re needed here. I spoke to the King about it last night, and he simply nodded though, so it could take place for you.”

That news had the man smiling, instead of acting put upon.

“Well! This is a year of adventure for me, then.”

Captain Ford narrowed his eyes, but didn’t frown.

“Bring those you want trained here, after mid-meal. I’ll put the new man on teaching them, as a lesson. He doesn’t have an official post yet. Good at fighting, though. You’re dismissed till then, Brolly.” The man was a bit gruff about it, as if put out, which was fair.

Anders simply bowed, using first courtly, and backed away, so neither man would be tempted to hit him, as a lesson for him about paying attention.

Then he had to try to get Princess Mathia. That required finding help, which he actually got from Prince Robarts, by going to his office. They then had to go to the classroom.

Technically, they moved into his chamber, with his table and chair stacked on his bed to get them out of the way, since there were more than enough people to fill the whole space that day. Looking at everyone, he smiled.

“Sorry about making you all sit on the floor here. We need a larger space for this, but it works for the next weeks. Everyone who can, change into trousers and tunics, like what I have on. Javina, would you aid Princess Mathia in that, for today? New students, over here, please? We’ll be walking through the beginning lessons. Be ready to work into the night. We all have to move out in two weeks. More advanced students... We’re moving off into the woods to sleep tonight. Don’t worry, we’ll be making a dwelling or two for all of us to share. We’ll be on the road soon, possibly, so ready your minds for that.” He went still then, as Salina muttered. Her clothing changed, but she wasn’t happy seeming when that was finished.

“I wasn’t aware that I was here to sleep on the floor, Prince Anders.” Her tone was dark, and even her sisters tensed, readying for a tantrum to come.

Anders nodded.

“Agreed. As a Great One of Barquea that would be beneath you. I have some new things written up for you all to learn, so that won’t happen. Here. Each of you take one of these.” There were three sheets, with small printing in his hand on them, that had been made up earlier. That was stacked on his water basin, the copies made, rather hurriedly, while he’d eaten the first meal. Done in the low hall, in front of everyone, as they’d stared. Some of them in fear.

Then, no one was going to get used to magic if they never saw it. That, he thought, was part of the problem Istlan had that way. They kept such things behind closed doors, leaving it mysterious and exotic.

Prince Erold moved forward, as did Master Tolan. Both men sat on the floor, which was clean, but also hard stone. He felt bad, for one of them. The elder man already looked uncomfortable. Seeing that, and suddenly in clothing that a servant would have been shamed to be seen in, being too plain, Mathia sighed. Still, she didn’t whine, after looking around and seeing the rest of the room making room for themselves.

The space that Anders lived in was small and cramped, compared to what he’d been given in Barquea. Even compared to what most of the people there had slept in the night before. He ignored that, and buried the shame Anders tried to feel over that kind of thing. After all, they were there to learn magic, not critique how he lived.

Those with the paper sheets looked at them, and all settled, falling into trances, and working on their own. Technically, they didn’t need to be there, in his room, for that portion of things. They could just take the new lesson away with them and work in greater comfort. The new people watched them though, so Anders spoke, softly.

“Clear your minds. Master Tolan, this is very similar to your common wizard’s trance, but not as focused. Please focus on what I’m saying, and don’t go too deep. I’ll be monitoring your thoughts, all of you, so don’t let that distract you. Just sink into a dark tunnel of your own creation. Put aside all other thought. Feel the blackness around you...” He watched their minds, as thoughts pulled into place, for Erold and Mathia.

The Master Wizard, who was famous for his efforts in that field, instantly had the right state. The only issue there was that the man was trained to go much deeper than he was at the moment and his mind tended to slowly drift in that fashion.

Anders simply brought him back, using calm words.

“Good, all of you. Take a moment to just sit. Think of the dark. Feel the quality of it, inside your head. Heed my words now.” It took about ten minutes for the younger two to get close to the correct state, and he had to guide them far more than the older man.

Still, after that, he ran them all through the first hand motion, in their head. A hundred times, driving the movement home. Linking it to a release of magical power. Teaching their deepest selves to push objects, and people, away from them.

When they were finished, Daren hopped up and ran from the room, coming back with two servants, both men, who each carried a medium sized stone.

He smiled and placed his in front of Master Tolan. Then gestured for the others to do the same. The men, Jeld and Farrow both looked terrified of what was going on, which, as far as they could tell, was simply sitting, at the moment. They tried to scurry from the room, as soon as they were finished with the task that their friend, Daren, had asked of them.

Anders waved at the men, and smiled.

“Stay? These three are about to perform tricks for us, so we might as well get the free show, eh? I know, it’s daunting, being nobles like they are, but they’re in a trance and probably won’t even recall that you two are here at all, right now. Making it the perfect time to gawk at them. Open your eyes, please, now. There is a stone in front of each of you. Bring your outer hands up, and push it back.”

None of them threw the rock across the room, but all of them moved the stones back on the floor. Jeld, seeming panicked, used a hand sign then, to ward off evil. A thing that cast a wave of power over the room. That had Javina and Master Tolan both looking in his direction.

Nodding, Anders waved at them.

“This is Jeld. He, as much as myself, invented the magic you just used, as you both felt. Jeld, can you get some time, in the mornings? You need to be here, for magic lessons. You don’t have to do it, but being afraid of magic is foolish, if you’re going to go around casting it out like that.”

The man, a good servant and not a horrible person at all, even being friendly toward Anders, capable of magic already or not, ducked down, as if trying to bow.

“I... Can’t. Magic...”

Anders smiled up at him, and muttered a spell that would bring the rocks back into place, each time they moved away.

“Push the stones away, one hundred times. Then we’ll move to the next portion.” Then he shrugged toward Jeld and Farrow.

After a moment he tilted his head.

“Yes. Magic. A tool and nothing more. No different than a hammer in the hands of a smith, or a spoon in the hands of a cook. Even feeling fear, neither of you will shrink from seeing it, any longer. Not if it’s only your friends here doing it. Oh, also, can you both see to the new people who came in, as far as their rooms? We need others as well. The normal number of servants per room? I don’t want to be mean, but we’ve been treating the visitors poorly. Enough that... Well, I feel ashamed, having seen how their rooms were being kept. We can do better. Jeld, get a few hours in the mornings for this, regardless. I’ll clear it with Prince Robarts, so you won’t get in trouble for doing it.”

Farrow at least, scared or not, and he truly did seem nervous, bowed.

“I’ll handle the rest, then. We... A lot of us have been talking about how we’re failing the kingdom, not doing our jobs with those people. The high ones from other lands, I mean. If they won’t stand to the task...” He looked away then.

Anders shrugged.

“If they won’t, then Daren and myself will help you with it, and each of them will come and watch us practice until they aren’t afraid any longer. I have to imagine that will become boring, pretty quickly! Here, watch these three.”

The Prince, Princess and Wizard all pushed the stones away, which moved, but then shifted back into place, pulling at Anders magically, just a bit, each time it happened. It took a quarter hour for them to do a full hundred moves that way, which, by the end, had Jeld at least, relaxing a little.

“I... Think I see what you mean, Anders... It was frightening to behold, the first time, now it’s just... Like a person moving a rock...”

He smiled up at the man, who wasn’t that old at all, his brown hair and pale skin seeming familiar, since both Daren and Farrow were similar that way.

“Exactly! Like I said, it’s only a tool. Now, I’ll see you in the morning tomorrow, Jeld? Get with myself or Daren, if you need aid with the rooms of the visitors.”

With that the two men, both older than he was by nearly double, left. Not that hurriedly. Just at a normal and efficient pace.

“Sorry there. Now, seek the tunnel again, in your minds...”

They worked until time for the mid-meal, not standing or moving, which allowed them to learn six new movements of the hand, linked to various spells. Then test them, as everyone else tossed things at them, floated objects in the air, and held balls of flame for them to block or put out. In the tight space everyone had to be ready to do all of that, or risk being hit, but Anders didn’t stop it from happening, just standing ready to protect all of them if it was needed.

Then, not asking, he cast a pain removal spell on Master Tolan. At least he started to just do that, then realized that there was more work that was needed, if he was being annoying and not asking if it was desired at all.

“Hom inasa indict swerla neg ot ere fen ot needa.”

Master Tolan didn’t gasp, but he did take a very large breath.

“Oh... That is, rather powerful! I feel years younger. It’s been a long time since my joints and muscles didn’t ache.” He stood, easily enough that he seemed surprised again. “You added strength to my bones?”

Everyone else was watching and standing on their own, a few rather stiffly. Even Anders had that happening at the moment, having been still on the hard floor for too long. Walking would be enough to repair the damage to him, however.

“No, I just took away the swelling and inflammation, as well as the discomfort of the moment.”

Prince Erold, seeming drifty, and still in his trance, blinked slowly.

“That’s of note. I’m still amazed that I managed to do anything at all. I can still feel the movements, as if they live in my mind. What’s the plan now?”

Anders raised his voice a bit then.

“Everyone, all of you, need to meet at the guard’s weapons square, after you eat. You need the food, even if you aren’t hungry yet. Especially you three, since you were burning magic for several hours. I’m heading to the low hall to do that. Daren, you’re with me. You as well, Master Tolan?” He wasn’t inviting them for secrets or anything like that, it was simply that the others were probably going to be placed in the High Hall. Not that he knew that for certain.

Javina waved at them then.

“I’ll join you, as well, if that’s not...”

Anders simply nodded, since that was fine with him.

“Certainly! You’re most welcome. You all are, but we need at least some of you to attend to the King and Queen, or they might feel slighted. Possibly not right now, though? Prince Erold, do you know what’s desired that way?” Anders had no clue, really. Still, he shrugged. “We should arrange something for the others, the servants and all that, so they don’t feel uncomfortable. I should have thought of that, earlier. The error is mine, if there are any complaints. They can come here to scold me for the lack, if needed.” He hung his head, actually meaning it, for half a second.

Farad did, anyway.

Anders rallied, rapidly, in that direction, feeling fine moments later.

Erold simply bowed, using first courtly, his left hand out with wrist bent and palm up, toward the Princesses from afar.

“Indeed, you are all expected to come to a private meal with Father and Mother. Anders...”

The blond young man, only a year older than he was, grinned then.

“You and Daren and Master Tolan are requested as well, if it pleases you? We have some actual business to see to, I think. Then we go and practice weapons? I’ll put the word in, so that everyone knows why we need to rush away, first thing.”

He actually bowed himself out of the room, which was very polite, considering he was a prince. Then, a lot of the room, the tiny space, was filled with people like that, at the moment.

Princess Mathia managed a smile.

“That was very different! I’m a trifle stiff, just now. We could walk, slowly, as you explain why I was included in this, Anders?” The Princess managed to seem playful, if a bit drifty still.

It was hard to move instantly in and out of deep mental states, even for a master of the craft. When you were first learning such things, it was almost impossible. Still, even in an unfamiliar state, it was clear that the young woman wasn’t being mean about her having to do a bit of strange or even fear inducing, work.

So, he made up an answer. A thing that wasn’t true at all. His real reasoning was, rather simply, that he was pushing everyone to learn, because it was his long-held habit. If he hadn’t been working with magic, Farad would have been pressing those around him to learn new languages, or possibly how to memorize whole texts. A thing that he needed to introduce to Daren, at the very least.

Rather than admit to that out loud, he put on a dire face.

“We are at war, with more on the horizon. In the coming years it might fall to you, to any of you, to fight back our enemies. True, not on the front in the war, for you ladies. Not being Princesses like you are, but what if the war comes to you? Here or elsewhere in the lands you hold or might travel to? That is why you must learn these things. Why we must all do so.”

Of interest, Master Tolan took a deep breath then and nodded.

“That... I have heard some of what might be coming. I concur with Master Brolly, we all need to stand forward and be ready for what may come.”

There was a somber air for a moment, until Javina giggled.

“I highly doubt that I’ll be called to repel any enemies, any time soon.”

Which was true.

Enough so that Anders winked at her, getting a soft blush in return. At least he thought he saw that happening. Her dusky skin hid much of that kind of thing.

“I know. Still, the point isn’t to get you ready to fight Yansians. It’s more about making sure you can, in some years or decades, handle what may come. Plus, if you don’t learn fast enough, Lissa Sona will beat you with a stick.”

The words got the girl to nod then, and smile.

“That is my task, as I understand it. I’m to meet with Queen Maura, to instruct her in magic, later?”

Everyone looked at her, as if that wasn’t a real thing, even if it had been spoken of, the day before. It probably wasn’t, in a true fashion. That hadn’t been his point at all, so it didn’t really matter.

“Yes. No stick, of course. We need you to befriend her and to heed her council. Not that you shouldn’t teach her if she has a will to learn. Even a few things might be useful to her, after all. Don’t shy from engaging her in discussion, however. Now, with Jeld and perhaps some others, you’ll need that stick...”

That got a nod from the girl, as if it only made sense for her to teach strange men fearsome tasks. Then, she’d done it before, so it fit, after a fashion.

Her older sister, Salina, sighed then.

“Lissa will be in the top ten inside five years, if she keeps that kind of thing up. She’s already higher than me in the rankings, even. Not that you didn’t earn it, Lis.”

As they walked, Anders shifted his clothing, to a decently nice outfit, with bright, if slightly ugly, blue, green and purple stripes, in shining colors. He looked like an entertainer, instead of a fine noble, but that was on purpose. After all, he wasn’t supposed to look good. Just not poor. Daren did that as well, as, one by one, the foreign Princesses did the same.

Daren ducked his head.

“Master Tolan? I could see, if you wish, to your clothing?”

Instead of seeming put out, the older man beamed at the younger.

“That would be most welcome, Master Daren. Thank you.”

He ended up in a rather dapper and wealthy seeming mid-tones blue outfit with soft slippers in rather gaudy silver. It was dressier than what either of the other men there had on, but fit his station as the castle Wizard.

Javina moved in and waved a bit at Mathia, smiling. They didn’t exchange words, but the other girl was in a soft pink dress that was in a very good, fancy, Istlan style.

The princess clapped her hands, if gently.

“This is lovely! Thank you, Princess Javina.”

It was, thus arrayed in finery, of various levels, they entered into, not the high hall, but the room where the King and his family normally took their morning meal together. It was a pleasant space, with fine hangings on the walls, but not too vast seeming. It easily fit twenty people at the nice wooden table, with its padded matching chairs.

Everyone there stood, in greeting, including King Mathias, his wife, Princess Aisla and Prince Robarts. Several important people were missing from the space, though Sulana Meegan was there, smiling. At Daren, in particular.

Several of them were, in fact.

The King waved to the seat to the left of Prince Robarts.

“Prince Daren, if you would join us? The rest of you, as well, of course.”

The man, a boy in many ways, blushed at being called a Prince. Before he could stammer a refusal or become frightened by the new promotion, Princess Aisla spoke.

“We didn’t tell you, but you were named a Prince of Barquea. This comes with duties, as well as privileges. You are, also, the lowest of all of us, including Leopold, but you have full right to use the title and might be called on, to perform tasks as befitting a Prince. You rather impressed my father, the Sula, with your aid, given in time of war.”

Anders, still standing, bowed, going low, but still using first courtly. That got everyone else, including King Mathias, to do something similar.

Daren froze for a moment, then took a deep breath.

“I don’t understand?”

Anders could see that one.

“Sula Darian claimed you as a Prince of Barquea. This is a real thing, and a good promotion for you. It won’t mean much here, of course, so you have to help me make sure those rooms are tidy later, but you won’t be paid for it, so it will balance out. That’s one of the duties befitting a Prince, I think. It really won’t mean much, unless you travel back to Barquea and make an effort there, to aid people.”

The room stilled for a moment, with Sulana Meegan scowling at Anders for his words. She didn’t speak though, since Daren relaxed, a lot.

“Ah? That was most kind of him, Sula Darian, then! I can impress women with my new title, do you think?” He blushed again, realizing who he was with.

Salina laughed at the words. Then she spoke in a tone that wasn’t all that unkind.

“Well, it will mean more if you travel back home. I can’t imagine being a Prince of a land on another continent will impress women here that much. Not that you’ll need tricks like that at all. After all, you’re a man of worth, already.”

No one spoke for a time, though several of them nodded.

Anders chuckled, which was a bit force.

“All right now, we should stop needling Prince Daren. For the time being, at least.”

The King winked at him in return.

“Yes, please, sit, everyone. I was informed that many of you need to rush through the meal, having military training after this? I wasn’t thinking to force guests to work at a brutal pace, first thing, myself.”

Princess Lissa, rather informally, smiled at the man.

“I was sent to learn Prince Anders’ methods of teaching, if I can, by my father. I don’t know about learning to fight, but if that’s what we’re told to do, we probably should. I imagine it will be humorous, watching me stand there, not knowing what to do at all.”

Sulana Meegan growled a bit.

“That is not fitting, for a Princess. I must protest!”

She glared, but not at the King, rather over at Anders.

For his part, he nodded.

“I know. It won’t be that much, for the ladies, of course. Not in physical fighting. Prince Erold and Prince Daren will be worked hard and painfully. Along with myself. We’re heading to the front in a few weeks. The ladies need to have enough to protect themselves while they ready magics, however. It’s a bit improper. I hear the Captain Ford is putting his newest guard on it, so, you know, it won’t be taken too seriously. No broken bones or rent flesh, I’m certain. Not on the first day.”

Everyone looked at him, as if he were being very rude, instead of playful. He probably sounded a bit too dour, honestly.

The King nodded, regally, after a moment.

“I think I see. Well, see to propriety? We don’t wish to insult our friends from Barquea.”

Anders sighed then, and made a rather, he hoped, charming face.

“You mean I should stop teasing them all with promises of hard work and hardship?”

Princess Aisla giggled, which was a strained sounding thing, for her.

“You can jest? I wasn’t aware of that at all, Anders.”

Sulana Meegan scowled again and clearly readied to fight, stopping when Anders laughed at the words.

“I know. Clearly, I’m not doing it well. Still, you really do all have to sleep in the woods tonight. We need to practice making magical structures and beds. That and seeing to running water, from the ground. You all learned that, earlier?”

Daren nodded, and so did Lissa. Javina shook her head though.

“I managed two pages and a bit, but have most of the third to do still.” She looked down, as if that were too slow of her to be allowed. That or as if she were going to be shamed for her lack, in public.

“Work on that, after the meal? You have the skills for that. The time, as well.” If they weren’t all going to be practicing combat skills all afternoon.

Anders still wanted them to learn such things, at least a little, but working on magic for that was fine as well. He didn’t want to insult the Sulana. Mainly because she was, in a strange and harsh fashion, his grandmother. Then, so was Queen Maura. That last one was even true, as far as blood went.

Then, thankfully, they were allowed to change the topic, with Aisla and Meegan going over what would be expected of Daren now, as a Prince. It truly wasn’t that much.

Princess Aisla smiled about it, though.

“Given you are here, in the lands of our friends, you will need to stand ready for ceremonial efforts, from time to time. Attending functions as King Mathias requests, as well as seeing to your studies in magic and giving aid, as to your skills.”

Salina chimed in then, her face pleasant. For her.

“We all have to learn magic, if we have the skill. Truly, you have enough already to make Father happy. You should keep working on that however, if you plan to climb the ranks and become Sula, some day. That will take a lot of great works, and daily effort, but it’s happened before, I think. I can’t see making the effort, myself. I couldn’t at least. Now I’m in the second ten, which I never figured would happen.”

King Mathias smiled at the pretty Princess.

“That’s still a bit confusing to me. You say that Prince Daren, or Prince Anders could, possibly, raise themselves in importance there?”

Sulana Meegan bent her neck for a moment, almost in a bow.

“Indeed, King Mathias. Truly, being hard working and seeking to aid others will have both of these men doing so, over time. Even if they don’t seek the throne. Even here, at a remove from our home, Prince Anders has continued to train others in magic. If they receive notice for learning such, which they all will, then I have to imagine teaching will gain even greater placement.”

Princess Jasmin, who was next to Meegan, sighed.

“I should see to those lessons, myself. I’m to marry, but it’s a shame to drop such things, after coming so far.” She looked at Anders, a bit shyly. “Not that teaching us will aid Anders that much. He’s already in the top ten. We should find people for Prince Daren to teach. That will make a much bigger difference there.”

No one commented on that idea, but it wasn’t a poor one at all. If they ever had enough people to teach, that was.

Chapter six

“Ooof!”

The exhalation was followed by a bone shuddering thump, and a pain in both of Anders’ knees as he was forced to the ground. Straight down, not knocked back or even pulled onto his face. Even in a haze of pain, he rolled, moving to the right, which meant he was slapped on the back by the side of a wooden practice blade. That didn’t get him out of moving, so he kept going, being hit several times as he traveled.

The man doing the instruction for the day grunted.

Then smiled. Happily.

“Good, Anders! You kept going. Can you stand and turn back to the fight, do you think?” His voice was mild and even friendly sounding, considering Anders was almost ready to cry, from the humiliation and raw pain that had been caused.

Still, he turned, and instead of losing his cool and attacking back without control, he took a shaking breath and then forced his mind into a point of total focus. He didn’t cheat, using magic, exactly, but he had to allow that he might have been picking up a bit more about what the man in front of him intended than he would have otherwise understood.

What he found there was...

Not much at all. The new castle Guard, Alder Cohen, was simply focused on the lesson of the moment. Not in making him look bad or even harming him. Really, the man didn’t even care if he were the one looking bad. To his mind, he’d put the new student, a mere boy, in an almost impossible situation. Sword against knife, a boy against an adult fighter. Then, instead of calling foul or whining about the pain, the child kept coming back at him, ignoring the blows that came as if they were nothing.

He was, in fact, impressed.

Which meant he moved faster as Anders moved in, delivering a pulled pommel blow directly to the tip of Anders’ chin. The move had set tears to flowing, so he forced a smile, at the same time, to show he wasn’t beaten. Then he muttered, just a bit.

“Andersana insana fen.” The words, with a bit of energy, took all the pain away, almost instantly. It meant he was able to go on, eventually hitting the other man with his knife, five times.

While dying over and over, if he were going up against a man on the battlefield.

Standing back, not clutching himself in the places he’d been stabbed, Cohen started to nod.

“I truly didn’t get it at first. Captain Ford said that you men were off to the front in two weeks... I couldn’t see the reason to send those so youthful, until now. If I had ten men this strong, I could fight an army. Are you all this tough?”

Daren shook his head, signaling that it wasn’t the truth, but Anders nodded.

“Yes. I had to cheat a bit, using magic, at the end there, when you landed that pommel to my face? Daren can do that, too. Erold is a better fighter than either of us, but not as used to meditation or magic, yet. He’s training for it.”

The guard simply looked interested.

“You can do that for him, with magic? While we work, I mean? While we keep moving?”

“I think so?”

“Very well then. You first then, Daren. Sword against sword.”

That went better, though Daren, new to the ways of war, even compared to Anders, wasn’t as good. He knew which part of the blade to hold, and how to move it properly, and if he was a bit slow, it wasn’t as bad as Anders had just done that way.

He also didn’t quit, just because he was hit a few times. He did call out a few times, grinning into the pain. Finally, he used a spell to dampen that for himself, as well.

Then Erold got to go. He really was better, as far as skill went. Spurred on by Daren, he didn’t give in to the discomfort, either. When the large, rather powerfully built, man in gray finished the beating, he moved to put the practice weapons away, taking them from them, without even spinning to attack, as soon as they were disarmed.

Then Guard Cohen grinned. It was a pleased thing, that spoke of comradery and fellow feeling.

“Here I’d thought the point was to give me the drudgery, being the new man, but you’re all fine for this. Oh, some sharpening and conditioning is needed, but any of you could stand as a man at arms, at this very moment, on a field of battle. Now, you all have magic, too? Healing?”

It made sense to think that, given what they’d done.

Anders smiled back.

“War magics, healing, wizardry, magician’s skills, some illusion. Repairing and building roads and shelters, as well.”

The man tilted his head then, and rubbed at his slightly hairy chin.

“Show me what you can do that way? In combat. What’s safe for that?”

Anders waved at Daren then.

“No explosions. Try not to kill. Against me.”

They moved to the middle of the practice space, and started fighting, fast, each of them rolling spells off and using hand motions to create various affects. Daren shot a thin line of fire through the air, after a moment, which Anders blocked, using his left hand, then returned with a blast of water, from the air itself, and a wave of cold from his right hand, nearly at the same time. That, the water, landed, coming from above.

“Gah, cold!” Daren moved to the side, almost dancing, and continued, throwing lightning, fire again and returned with an illusion of one of the other guards moving in and trying to jump Anders. He smiled at that.

A monster would be obvious, but the man in gray had actually seemed to be standing back and waiting, for some time. Meaning Daren had planned the move out, without Anders picking up on that at all.

“Clever!”

He answered by schooling his mind, becoming boring on a grand level, and adding power to it. Vanishing from sight. More clearly, disappearing from the ability of anyone watching to be bothered noticing him. Then he walked around behind Daren and pushed him, using magic. It was a simple palm thrust, done from four paces away.

“Bah!” The other man went flying, because the move had been unexpected. Even as he’d turned and searched for Anders, having seen the trick before. “You always get me with that one, Anders.”

There was a rather interested nod from Cohen, then.

“That’s advanced. I didn’t know that Istlan had any mages who could do that kind of thing, to be honest. Back home, in Yanse, while it was still my home, I mean, we had a few who could have stood with you here, in this. I think. Not many though. I have to believe that none of them would last long, if you can do that and stab them with a blade, at the same time?”

Erold simply nodded, looking away a bit. Anders didn’t get that, and wondered if he was worried over the man having come from Yanse. They were at war, but it was clearly not being hidden, at the moment. When the Prince spoke, the reason was different.

“I just started learning magic, today. I know... Seven different things?”

Anders took over then, running to the weapons rack.

“Erold, shield!” He waited for the boy to put that up, and checked to make certain it was being powered well enough with magic, then threw several blades his way. Wooden ones, but they bounced to the stones of the practice square.

Then he used fire, for ten seconds, making a flower of flame in the air where it hit the invisible shield.

“Knock this from the air, with a push!” That had a blade tossed, gently, past him. It flew away, with some power.

“Douse the flame!”

That one was harder and took some time, because Anders actually generated a globe of white-hot energy in front of him and tried to keep it going, making Erold work to shut it down.

“Light!”

The boy gestured then, and laughed, slightly, making a glow over his fingers. It was bright enough to find a path, in the woods, but probably not read by.

“Brighter. Add energy to it. Look away and make it bright enough to blind someone coming at you.”

That took a long while to make happen, and Daren had to run, to get a log for him to set alight, but when that was done, and put out again, Erold had run through almost everything he’d learned that morning.

Which had the guard taking a deep, shaking breath.

“You truly only started to learn today? Do you think you can use that while under attack?”

The Prince frowned then.

“I don’t know?”

That had Daren grabbing a wooden blade and trying to hand it to Anders. Which got a head shake in return.

“That won’t work. He knows me too well to think I’d truly harm him. You as well, Daren. Fenris Cohen, if you will? Break bones and render him unconscious, if you will? No explosions, Erold.”

The magical battle was fast, intense and not at all perfect, on Erold’s part. He had a shield, but dropped it, when he tried to attack with a push, which had the guard cleverly dodging and throwing things, to good effect.

The thing was, in the end, the Prince managed to win, more or less. Cohen was on the ground, panting, waving his left hand.

“I yield. That works! How many with such skill can you field, right now?” There was energy in the question, and it was a bit odd to ask. Probably meaning that the man was acting as some kind of spy that Anders didn’t understand. He was from Yanse, but declaring that openly and as if it weren’t important, was strange.

So he shrugged and told the truth.

“This is it, for now. We may have more by the time we head to the front, in some weeks. Possibly not.”

He was given a strange look, from the guard, and then the man blew a large breath out.

“Do that. They need to pay for what they did to my family. Not to shock you, but I’m a Duke. Of Yanse. King Mathias took me in, after King Yarler, the dog licker, betrayed me and killed my entire line. About six months back. I signed on as a guard here, to try and repay the kindness shown me. I don’t have riches any longer, so have to use my body to do that. Now I see what the new Captain has planned. Not to punish me for being from the lands of an enemy, but to have me meet you three, to give me hope!” He moved in and slapped Anders on the arm. “How do we see to this training, for others? I have no coin to speak of, but I’ll go to my knees and beg for it to happen, if it will help?”

Instead of letting him answer, Prince Erold bowed. A martial thing, with his hands in front of his body, palms together.

“We need people willing to learn. Anders is doing the work on that teaching, so far. If you can find anyone with the main magical talent, I can get them into such lessons. Do you have that trait, sir?”

There was a head shake at the words.

“No. Much to the disappointment of my mother, before she passed. It’s in the family, but didn’t take with me, so I was tutored in combat. A noble enough pursuit, of course. I shall seek those who will act and send them to you? I don’t know how to do that, but I’ll find a way. I’m... A bit surprised that many aren’t volunteering. It is clearly a way to riches. Even if only trained to the level of Erold here, a poor man would be wealthy, by the end of the war, I’d have to think.”

Anders looked away then, in thought.

“It’s that people in Istlan used to fear magic. That is changing now, but we’re only a day into trying to bring that into being. If you talk to anyone, remind them that’s changed now? We might have one of the servants here, the stalwart man Jeld, coming for lessons. Princess Mathia is taking such, already, of course. Prince Erold, as well, so that sounds impressive and expensive, doesn’t it?”

The man, clearly no fool, bowed toward Erold then.

“I missed that, Prince Erold. Sorry there. No insult meant.”

The words got a wave of the hand.

“None taken. This is Prince Anders and Prince Daren. Both princes of Barquea, as well as being from here. Anders is the bastard of my brother, Alpert. Daren was a serving man here, who so impressed the Sula of that far off place to be given a chance to earn his way to leadership of that entire land. Anders was as well, but he has relatives that way, after a fashion, so it was easier for him, or so I heard?”

There was teasing in the tone, but it wasn’t that far from the truth of the matter, so Anders nodded.

“I heard that, as well. Now, we should go and practice more. We need to set a camp in the woods, with the ladies.” He grinned at Duke Cohen as he spoke. “Which sounds far more adventurous than it truly is. We have several princesses who are as good with magic as we are here. The plan is to set them to making roads for us, as a test of their skills, instead of sending them to war. You would have been training them today as well, but it was deemed improper, earlier. Due to their delicate natures. Which is a shame, since I found this effort beneficial, if a bit painful, in places.”

He rubbed a few of those, where he’d been hit earlier.

Which got a chuckle from each of the other men. All in sympathy.

There was a lasting smile, from Cohen.

“I will find those men for you. Women, too? You mentioned princesses, not ladies in general being forbidden?”

Thinking for a moment, Anders frowned.

“Both are welcome. If any wish to come, they’ll be working with you each day, as well? Probably in the time you should be sleeping, since you have a sworn duty here. I want the women trained to fight well enough that if anyone tries to take them by force, they can resist long enough to use their magic to finish the task.”

That got a serious, wide eyed, grunt.

“Understood. There was an event, at winter’s edge, where a group of women and children from here had been taken by the Yansian army. They were planning to rape and enslave them all. Illian Darca, the illusionist, stood for them. He was going to be put to death for it, until King Yarler ordered that our army wasn’t allowed to rape any longer. Istlan has held to the same rules of conduct, but no one knows why, exactly. It hasn’t been the tradition, between us.”

“Good.” Anders felt that way, and didn’t know why it was policy now, either. “It might not hold, so I want any women working with us to be as protected as possible. We can’t always be there to guard them, so they need to be capable of doing that on their own.”

The man straightened, oddly, but in a way that seemed powerful and official.

“It will be done! Thank you. All of you! I was close to taking my own life in despair, now I have some hope returned.”

With that, the man turned, and left. Apparently to another task, since he went to speak to his fellow guards. Anders was about to suggest they go and continue learning for the day, when Erold hit him on the shoulder.

“Lady Martya is trying to get your attention. By the castle?”

Turning, feeling a flash of nerves, if not real fear, he forced a smile and waved back.

“I should see what’s needed? I can meet with you both... Honestly, Daren, I’ll be with you as soon as possible, in the Ambassadors’ hall?”

The former servant bobbed in place.

“I’ll see to that directly.” Then he hurried off, in the same direction that Anders was going, to meet with Lady Martya. When he got to the curly haired woman, her skin and eyes light in color, which helped her seem rather pretty, he stopped and bowed.

Then shrugged.

“Ganges. Rothina, as well, of course? So good to see you! I didn’t know you were here the whole time, before. You could have mentioned something? Have you seen Hoatha around, yet?”

There was a blink and instead of an instant fight starting, the woman hugged him.

“You know? I’m not even being set on fire or plagued with rats yet, so that’s a grand sign you aren’t too angry with me for not approaching you first thing. I came for you, as soon as I heard that the crystal had taken hold, and ended up getting here far too soon. Now, Ganges is here, you say? I haven’t noticed him at all. Is that...” She made a rather cute face then and wrinkled her nose. “Has he come to kill me, do you think? He loved you, for longer than this place has been a proper kingdom. That can be hard to shake. The plan really could be to take me out of things, so that he won’t have any competition.”

He got to shake his head, at least.

“Not that I know of? Last I heard, the plan was to throw me at you, since Anders seems to enjoy women, instead of men. Not that Farad was of that sort, either. I guess... Really, I should test you, later, to see if the stories match up, don’t you think?”

The woman, one he’d known most of his life, who had been kind to him and friendly, but not to a level that had seemed strange or even reminded him of Ganges in any way, stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes. It was adorable, though clearly planned to reach him in a way that spoke of being harmless.

“Of course you should. Really, you should probably try to kill us both or at least send us away. I just missed my friend, so much, for so long. I... Went a bit insane, after you... Died.” She shook herself a bit then. “Forgive me. That was a long time ago. I recall it, but only vaguely. Now, Daren Willet has become a Prince? That’s all the talk at court right now. I was asked to help your mother put a party together. Say, does she know? That I’m Rothina, not just Martya?”

He nodded.

“Most here know that, or will soon. Not everyone, since it doesn’t matter that much. I mean, if you and Hoatha are both here, being pleasant and not trying to take the world over, then we have no need to be upsetting in your direction. Not that we really could. Still, you’d both go away if we asked. That being true, there’s no real reason to request that. Not at the moment.”

The words got him hugged, for some reason.

“Many will be baffled, going up against you, Anders Brolly, as you age. That... Ganges never really understood that part of things. It took time for it to make sense, even to me, and I lived it. I’m Rothina. Not Ganges in Rothina’s body. Not just Rutha, the farm girl and Ganges the wizard of the ages stuck together. It took time, but I learned, over the ages, to be myself. I have all the memories and parts of those others, inside. It makes a different being than either would have been.”

Anders had felt that, for himself.

“Yet you ran across half the world, to see your old friend Farad, killing who knows how many to do that, with blood magic.”

That was waved away.

“Blood magic? Why would I do that? I just schooled my mind for several months and collected my own powers for it. If you have time, you don’t need as much power to reach the same end point. It was difficult, but I didn’t kill tens of thousands to see you again.” She grinned then. “Yes, I did stay here, instead of traveling that way twice, even if it meant waiting for years, but I recalled your hatred for blood magic and haven’t used it for... Oh, hundreds of years or more? Which... Well, I left three months ago, but then traveled backward in time, to get here.”

He snorted.

“You still ran halfway across the world. Just to see me? A mere copy of a man you once knew, after a fashion. When you were Ganges. In part, at least...”

“Of course! I’m me, but not immune to the memories I hold. Still, Anders... If you need your freedom from me, I will leave. It’s enough, I think, to have my old friend back.”

Ganges had said the same thing. It could be a manipulation, or simply a thing they both shared.

“Well, would you meet with me, and perhaps some others, so we can try to talk you out of making war against the world?”

She shrugged then and frowned.

“Certainly, though it isn’t about grabbing power for myself. We can have a better world. The initial disruptions will be hard. Especially for those who don’t want to lose what they have. In the end we can make it so that most people have more. Not just here, but in hundreds of other lands. This isn’t just a thing taking place here or in the south... Every continent is being affected by my works. Even if I were to stop this moment and leave off, the world will be changing. In the end, it will be worth it. I have to believe that.”

That made a certain amount of sense to Anders.

“Ah. Well, I can’t handle that. The best I can do is try to protect my people, here. If that works, I can worry about the rest of the world. Now, you stopped me for a reason?” He managed a smile for her, even if he didn’t enjoy the words she’d just said.

She nodded, suddenly pleased seeming.

“I did! Prince Daren is having a party. Lyse and I were told that we were picked for it, by name, because we’d know who needed to be there for it, but we honestly don’t know who that’s supposed to be. Do you have any ideas?”

“Oh... Not really. Um... Everyone from Barquea, including the servants. They treat them differently there, more like family, so that’s needed. His parents and brothers. The head servants from here, of course. Also, enough nobles to show to these people that this is a real thing and not a game being played. Nice ones, who won’t be snooty about his once having been a servant here?” If such mythical people existed, of course.

Some of the nobles and high types were nice enough.

“Master Tolan, Hoatha and Depak, Tag Seness?” That last name was added just because the alchemist was friendly and had been kind to Anders, in the past.

Martya tilted her head, rather prettily.

“The Modroc, as well?”

He nodded.

“Yes. We should put on a show. Something using magic, but different. You saw the little thing I threw together, last night? We need something better than that. Music, maybe?”

She gave him a pensive look.

“Many of those people, the servants from here, will be left afraid, if magic is at play.”

Anders nodded, attempting to seem wise.

“Yes. People here used to be afraid of magic. Now it’s merely a slight bit of nerves, which they quickly set aside. I decided that was changing, as of last night. Put the word around about that? I mean it, in case it sounds like a jest. We’re all just pretending that no one cares any more about magic than they do about a smith or healer. It won’t work, but I’m trying to make being relaxed around magic fashionable.”

That got a soft chuckle, which was a bit friendlier than he was used to hearing from the woman. As if she were making an effort to be alluring, for some reason. Outside of the idea they’d spoken of. It wasn’t as if she wanted to seduce him, as much as placate him, for some reason.

“It’s worth trying? You’re looking at something that will take years, perhaps decades, to bring about, but you have the time, so why not?”

Before he could find a way to excuse himself, there was a commotion off to the side, under the covered walkway. Two men shouting at each other, with rather a lot of force. One of them was Baron Kilroy. The other was a younger man. Not that the Baron was old at all. It was simply that the other fellow seemed to be just a few years over two decades. He had bright red hair, and very pale skin. He was, also, pushing the Baron, physically.

Which was a dangerous thing to do, if Anders had heard correctly. The Baron was known to get himself into duels fairly often. Then, those he fought, died. Except that, in this case, the red-haired man seemed to be the one starting things. From the calling out, it wasn’t at all about a death or a great wrong.

Just the younger man screaming about having been bumped into. Some time before, from the sound of it. The Baron was yelling, but only to be heard. His words were, clearly, a rather abject apology, instead of an offer to see the other man die in a bloody fashion.

Lady Martya tightened her mouth and looked away.

“Lonn Verit. Count Verit. He came a month back and has been trying to start fights with everyone he can. Last week he attempted to push Sir Humphries around, if you can believe it. I can’t see it as a true plan either. He’s simply angry and wants to make the world a worse place.”

Anders took a deep breath.

“Grand. I suppose he’s going to try for me, next? I’m not important, but I’m short enough to seem a target for that sort.”

Martya smiled at the words.

“You know... That might work. If he attacks you, as a Prince from another land, that would be grounds to have him removed. True, you’d probably have to take a beating, since killing him would be wrong. Still...”

He didn’t love the sound of that, but nodded.

“I see. Well, you know how to regrow teeth, right?”

She tilted her head.

“You can’t do that yet?”

It was a good point. He couldn’t, but it was clearly possible. There just wasn’t enough time in the day to learn everything. Not all at one time.

Anders suddenly walked away, over to the new fellow and Baron Kilroy. Lady Martya, smiling peacefully, followed behind, about ten paces back.

“Excuse me, gentlemen?”

The red-haired fellow was actually foaming at the mouth, when he turned to stare at Anders, his lips ringed in white.

Instead of screaming at him, for interrupting, the young man heaved, trying to breathe, clearly far too angry for something minor that had taken place days before. There was a rough and tight nod, as if he couldn’t speak.

Baron Kilroy, for the first time, moved his hand to the knife on his side, ready to pull it. Meaning that Anders wasn’t going to be attacked too easily, it seemed. For his part, he bowed, using first courtly.

“I have some training in healing. May I examine you, using magic? There seems to be something wrong. Does this happen to you often?” He left his voice sounding bland and controlled. The other fellow, shaking now, closed his eyes.

“Always. I... can’t... do it. Whatever this magic is.”

Anders fell into a trance, hoping it wasn’t the wrong thing to do. The man seemed fine, at first. Until he tried to feel the inside of the other man’s head. There, near the center of it, was a lump. A thing pressing on the inside of him, in a way that was pressing him to rage. Anders didn’t know what to do about it, but he could tell what the problem was.

“I see... There’s a growth, in your head. It will have to be removed. Magically, and very soon, except that I’ll need to work up a new procedure for this, which might take some time.”

Martya did her own bit of magic then, but didn’t speak. Nothing in the man, Lonn Verit, changed in any way.

Still, the red-haired man, his white clothing showing dingy smudges in places and spital down his front, stood there, shaking.

“How long?”

Anders didn’t really know, but understood that the man was desperate.

“Some hours, at least. Possibly longer. Baron Kilroy, can you lead this gentleman to my chamber, in... Three hours? For your part, Sir, if you can hold on, until then? I’ll hurry, I promise you.”

There was a tense nod. A thing that seemed to bring real pain.

“Yesss. Do it!” It seemed to be taking a real act of will for the man to not swing his fist at Anders’ head. The muscles bunched under his shirt, fighting against the impulse.

He simply turned and walked away, trying to figure out what he was going to need. After thirty paces, Martya started to whisper to him.

“You’ll need to remove the mass, taking it through the solid flesh, leaving the brain itself unharmed. At the same time, you have to seal the wound, inside, or it will cause him to bleed there, ending his life. You have some time, since he won’t die from this for six or seven months. I didn’t even bother to check, which was... Well, as Martya, I’m not a healer, so that would have done nothing, even if I’d known. Can you learn two new spell components in four hours?”

Anders sighed, the words having been very helpful.

“I can. Really, even doing one per hour isn’t hard at all. I’ll need to feel what I’m doing, to direct the energy... I can do this. Hopefully.”

That seemed to be correct. At least Lady Martya, perhaps one of the greatest magic users to have ever lived, didn’t say he wasn’t right about the possibility of failure. Instead of worrying over it, he marched, rather firmly, to his room, alone. There was work to do, after all.

Chapter seven

Anders had to fight his way up to the real world, after some unknown time. He didn’t bother rousing himself to a great extent, simply standing from his chair, taking the water pitcher from his wash basin and then finding one of his pens. Concentrating on what he desired to happen more clearly, this time. The last time he’d tried it, about two hours before, the other pen had moved halfway into the side of his water pail, and got stuck there. Exploding when it happened, with a mighty pop. There had been splinters that had driven into his flesh, in five places.

Those had been ignored, after he’d pulled the wood out of himself. They weren’t lethally deep, and past that, bothering with it would take too much time.

This time, as he muttered the spell, he used the reworked component.

“Li nik uffa lod ere ot ere fen ot...” He drew the line for the pen to travel, his eyes closed, opening them to watch the wood and metal piece pass through the clay of the pitcher, without warping or leaving a mark. Not even a subtle disruption was made at the passing.

He followed the passage, in his mind, not dropping it until the object was directly in the center of the empty space.

Then he pulled it out, and did the new spell, over and over, until there was a knock on the door. A tentative thing, that didn’t sound like what the enraged Count could manage. When he checked who was there, with his thoughts, Anders was a bit surprised.

Of the people who might have arrived there, to watch him work, scold him for doing so, or even just to tell him the Count had, wisely, changed his mind about letting some child use magic on him, two of the people beyond his door simply weren’t the ones he would have ever considered.

Opening it, he stood back and bowed, poorly, his hands limp at his sides.

“Enter. Please, Count Verit, sit here.” His voice was dead sounding, not at all lively or even just calm. The man seethed, having to be held back by the woman that had come, for some reason. She was struck in the side of the face, hard enough that she fell back. Not enough to force her to let go of the arm, however.

Princess Peri was stronger than he would have figured.

Anders spoke again.

“Quickly, Count. Master yourself for a moment. This won’t take long.” He left out the idea that it might kill him, but it was incredibly clear to him that everyone there thought that was the likely outcome. “Please, release his arms. He is the master of himself now.”

Slowly, seeming uncertain, the man there, King Mathias, did that, as did the Princess. The others were familiar, but Anders paid so little attention to them that they might as well have not been there. No one spoke, until the Count, using pure will to subdue his rage, forced himself into the wooden chair, grabbing it so hard that the seat creaked under the pressure of his hands.

The spell was the most complicated thing he’d ever done of that nature. Anders had, on two occasions, while making sculptures from metal, had to speak longer and many times he’d had to dictate full letters from memory, into a spell, but for healing, this was the single hardest thing he’d ever even considered.

Then he summed the ten minutes of speaking up in one single word. One that, out of everyone in the room, only he understood.

“Fen.” Now.

He held his right hand out, to the side of the Count’s red colored head, following what took place with his wizard skills, ready to scramble and struggle to save the man, if he’d made a survivable mistake. As the now intangible mass released, the blood vessels there sealed over, healing, before the liquid of his essential being could leak even a single drop. Perfectly, becoming smooth, without scarring. Before the flesh came through the side of the skull, the man’s eyes snapped open, and he relaxed, visibly. Then the errant growth fell into Anders’ palm, looking wet, red and dark gray. It was warmer than his hand.

Moving back, Anders secured the growth in a bit of linen, left over from his last bit of cloth armor making. It was literal scrap, and was settled on his wash basin, since he ate at his table on occasion. Even in a trance, there were things he didn’t want to associate that way in his mind.

No one spoke for nearly half a minute, closing a bit on the Count, who started to laugh. It sounded a little deranged, for a few moments.

“Oh, my! That is so much better! I can think again. Finally.” He moved then, and started to hug people. Princess Peri first. She had a large red mark on her cheek, which was starting to turn into a visible wound, raised and red. “I’m so sorry, sister! I struck you...”

Anders, still too deep into his own mind to care about proprieties, spoke blankly.

“Move then. Let her sit and I’ll take care of that.”

The man didn’t scramble, even if he could do that safely enough. Even being hit in the head wouldn’t damage him. Not any more than the blow would do to anyone else, at least. Anders didn’t mention that, simply touching the Princess on the side of the face, in a way that probably should have had one of the men striking him. No one did.

Possibly waiting for the healing to take place first.

“Lahom bonista insana indict swerla, ere ot ere, neg ot neg, sot ot neth, fen ot un bah.” He kept his mind on her skin, the swelling and bruising fading totally, over the course of one moment.

It wasn’t a big thing, but was visible enough that Count Verit, sounding rather friendly, now that the center of his brain wasn’t under pressure, spoke, his tone kind.

“You are an amazing healer, Sir. What I hold, my lands, my title, I pl...”

Anders waved him to silence, preventing what was coming. After all, if he accepted everything from the man for a single healing, such would be too expensive for almost anyone else, after. Everyone else looked at him as if he were being strange. The King, at least, seemed to understand what he was doing. There was a feeling from the man. One of pride, for some reason.

“There’s a caravan moving to the front, in two weeks. If you could, perhaps, send some small gift or comfort for the men there? It has been a harsh winter, I hear.”

For some reason, the Count, instead of being upset over the interruption, took him by the shoulders.

“At once. I... Will this need to be done again? I have some hours, to dispose of my duties, do you think?”

Anders checked the man again, then let his head fall, artlessly, to the side.

“The work will hold. The healing is already done, so you don’t need to rest in bed, other than for your comfort. Your body has been under great stress, for a very long while, so it will take some time for that to return to normal, but regular living should hold you in good stead that way. I imagine you will have a headache for several days. Nothing too bad, compared to what was happening. It isn’t a return to illness, just your body catching up. If it becomes too bad, come and find me, or Master Willet, and we will dull the pain for you.”

He stood then, and bowed again, even if it wasn’t actually time to do that. It felt oddly removed from reality. Everyone did it back, with first courtly, from Baron Kilroy and King Mathias. Princess Peri curtsied, rather cutely, seeming younger than when she’d come in the door. Happier, suddenly.

“This... Affliction is truly gone now?” She seemed hesitant, as if he might take offense at the words. He’d just said it was, but reassuring people was part of being a healer. Even if he wasn’t one of those, he’d memorized some books on the topic. Several of them had mentioned things like that.

So he made himself smile.

“It is gone. It can’t come back soon. This has been a problem for some years?”

Everyone in the room shook their heads, except the Count. He nodded, his face twisting a bit, into an almost dreamy expression.

“Since I was fifteen. I hid it, most of my life, but the rage came then. Tainting everything I did. I fought it, but of late... I failed.”

He seemed shamed by that, which had Anders shrugging.

“As even the most powerful of will would have. Truly, you probably have the focus needed to practice magic. That or advanced memory skills. You’re a Count though, so might not have time for that kind of study? If you do, then we meet in the mornings, in this room, for now. If not, then there is no harm in it. That isn’t a demand on you, simply me noticing that you have learned to school your mind, even if you didn’t realize it was taking place. A person with such will might do much, if he chose to.”

The reaction to those words were mixed.

Baron Kilroy winced, and moved, cautiously, to pat the younger man on the arm.

“He means no insult, Lonn...”

Peri actually took three steps back and looked afraid, and King Mathias chuckled, rather softly.

“So far, the lessons are being given only to princes, queens and princesses...”

After standing for a moment, Anders nodded.

“Jeld the serving man here is supposed to come for that as well. If we can free him from his morning work schedule? I’m growing tired of the servants refusing to aid those with magic, without great fear, so I figure that teaching a third of them to use such will quell some of that. I think the point was to suggest that there are interesting people to meet, if you can attend, Count Verit? If you cannot... Well, send a missive and I’ll arrange introductions for you? The same offer goes to all of you. All of it.”

He turned then, and looked out the window. It was just turning dark out.

“Forgive me. I must take the students to the woods, so that that we can make magical dwellings and beds for the night. We should take a guard with us. Perhaps Demo Gull?”

It wouldn’t be needed, even in the woods outside the castle. Not unless an attack came. In which case... Honestly, his group of Princes and Princesses would probably have to argue over who got to kill the people coming to bother them. Unless there were too many of them. In which case running was in order. Possibly flying away. That was hard to pull off, for him, but he could do it. Most of them knew how, already, of course. They didn’t practice it, since it wasn’t easy or pleasant to do.

That had to stop, of course. Being too kind to himself that way could be his end, if battle came. Which it almost certainly would.

The King patted him on the shoulder.

“Yes, Erold mentioned that adventure to me, earlier. We also need to speak, if possible? Perhaps after first meal?”

Anders smiled up at the man, who was tall, but not so much that it left him feeling tiny, any longer. That probably meant he’d grown, not noting it happening.

“Yes, Sire. We meet at your office?” That was a place that Anders had heard of but never been to.

“Join us for the meal? Bring your students. Including... Welk, was it?”

“Jeld, Sire. That might be a bit much to ask of him, for the first day, but I’m willing to stress him a bit, if it would serve. He’s supposed to be seeing to the Ambassadors and the visitors... I need to check on that first. The servants have not been doing their best work there. Prince Daren and I are working on it, along with Jeld and Farrow, for the time being. I plan to take anyone learning magic with me, at least for the first leg of the coming trip, if allowed.” He grinned then and shook his head, trying to clear it.

“Ah! Sorry there. I went deep, into my mind, to learn what was needed for the first bit of work. I’m not normally this demanding.”

Baron Kilroy snorted then, and moved to slap Anders on the back.

“Lies, I say! Lies! Prince Anders here demands so much of himself that all around him must feel the pressure of it, constantly. Now, if you aren’t needed to save my friend’s life any longer, I was asked to let you know that Sir Humphries seeks an audience with you, about the coming effort at road work? No one is truly certain if that’s a jest or not. Depak Sona simply smiled, in a mysterious and manly fashion, when I inquired with him and suggested I check with you. Though... He also suggested that it seemed a task of the sort that the Great One Salina should be able to manage?”

That was the magician being playful and puckish, of course. That or backing up what Anders had tried earlier, heaping responsibility on Salina, to prevent her from giving up too easily.

“You know, that does sound correct. Still, this is Istlan, and asking travelers to do too much for us would be rude. On the other side, they, some of them, did come to continue their magical practices and one way to get better is to do hard things. We will be building and readying roads, however. Even if it’s only Daren and myself. Prince Daren, I mean.”

The King nodded, his face serious.

“Understood. It might be best not to stress these ladies, over much. Even Princess Mathia? Women are delicate of constitution, after all.”

Anders laughed and shook his head at the words, which got a frown from the older man.

“Not in magic, Sire. Women are often twice as powerful as men in that craft. Which is why I set Princess Mathia the task of guarding the castle here and the lands around it, from attack, along with the guards, if such comes. Eventually, that is. She has much to learn, first, but she will.” Then he bowed to the man, who was, after all, the highest of high lords of Istlan. “Also, did you know that I can assign Princesses to do work? I only just found that out, earlier today, when I tried it and wasn’t beheaded for my foolishness.”

Instead of scolding him, the King sighed. It was a mighty, and much put upon, thing.

“Ah? Be careful there, Prince Anders... If you make a suggestion in jest, or even meaning it and it is not taken well, that can lead to troubles. I’d rather not have that sort of thing here, if it can be avoided?”

He nodded.

“I take your meaning, Sire. Still, it’s a real enough goal. If such a thing, an attack, were to come here, then having people here to defend us seems correct.”

That, interestingly, got a nod.

“Yes. Be wary, however, and go gently there. Now, you’re planning to take a group of young women to the forest, alone?”

Anders saw the trap there, and nearly stammered, since that wasn’t actually his plan at all.

“That... I see your point. It wasn’t my intent to suggest... Well! I guess I should cancel that bit, then?”

Count Verit shook his head, smiling.

“No, fair Prince. None will doubt your good intent in this. Perhaps you should invite some other ladies, to protect the virtue of those being given lessons? A night in the woods might not be comfortable, so... Someone hardy?”

Princess Peri took a deep breath.

“I shall go and stand for my daughter, and our friends from the south? We should invite someone to guard us, from Barquea?” She looked at the King, who turned to Anders.

“Ideas on that?”

He had some, so nodded.

“Depak Sona, Hoatha and Lady Martya?”

The King frowned then.

“Martya? I know her of course, but why lump her in with those others?”

He shrugged, then told a partial truth.

“Well, my mother and Prince Alpert decided that we were to wed, in some few years, so I figured to get her used to working with me, if allowed. That may have been spoken in jest, of course, but real sounding plans were made for it. Depak thinks it’s a capital idea. Then, I think he might be happy that we weren’t plotting to have him married off. Hoatha... Well, we’re steering him at Eltha Tenet... Who we should also invite.” He shook his head again then. “You do understand that I’m intending them to raise a small palace, on your lands? A permanent thing, with all amenities. It’s a bit mean of me to suggest they do this in the dark, but we can, perhaps, take turn making lights? Or I could do it... I might do that.”

He held his breath then, since the King might not want that kind of thing outside his walls. Instead, he beamed, as if it were a present.

“Very well, Prince Anders. Something attractive? I must admit, I was suspecting bed rolls under the stars. I’ll inspect it in the afternoon, if you recommend such to me, in the morning?”

There was a bow then, from the King, meaning they were done. Also, in Anders room, so they all left, with Anders heading to the Ambassadorial wing, first. Just in case Jeld and Farrow’s nerve had failed them.

A thing that, when he knocked on the first door, the one at the far end, was proved to be false, instantly. A rather more sober seeming Ambassador Spent answered the thing himself, clearly having been working at missives on the same table that Depak had once used for similar tasks.

“Yes? May I help you?”

Anders bowed, in the Barquean fashion, getting one of those back. The man had spoken in Scara, so his words were returned in a similar fashion.

“I’m merely checking with you to make certain that you have everything you need? Food, or drink? I can’t get you women, but I might be able to recommend some, if that’s a thing you desire.” He was being cheeky, but Scara allowed for that, at times, even across rank and position.

The man simply nodded.

“All is well here, today! You came and cleaned for me, at that unhealthy hour to be awakened, then steadily, through the day, men and women have brought me things and tidied my space for me. I could only understand the one man. Prince Daren? That’s impressive, isn’t it? A man rising in position as he has? Plus, I can honestly send a recommendation to the Sula for him, now. Do you need anything, Prince Anders?”

The man bowed his head, indicating it wasn’t lost on him who was standing there. Not that it should have been. It simply didn’t matter, that was all.

“Not unless you wish to personally guard the Princesses from the ill manners of some brutish Princes? We’re going to be camping out, in a magical structure, in the woods this night. The students learned how to make such things just today. At least they were supposed to be doing that. Those from Barquea. This is a test, as well as a strengthening of their nerves. We travel the road in a few weeks, with some of us going to the front. To the war here.”

The man simply narrowed his eyes at the words.

“I will attend. Is there plotting afoot that requires us to flee?” He whispered the words, so that they wouldn’t be heard down the hallway. They seemed suspicious.

“Not that I know of? It will just be a good way to practice Istlan, with people who might aid you in that. Really, we should set Princess Lissa to that, if she has time. Honestly, she won’t right now. I...” After a moment of thinking, he nodded. “We should task Princess Javina to it. You have two weeks to learn. That’s plenty of time.”

It would have been if the man wasn’t expected to work full time as an ambassador, at least. There was a frown, and the man actually slapped Anders, on the shoulder.

“Don’t be boorish. The old don’t learn that fast. All know this.”

Instead of acting up, Anders, the boy inside, simply rolled his eyes.

“Normally that would be true. Princess Javina has some tricks she can use for that. You’ll do fine, Ambassador. Now, I need to... Quickly check everyone else. I have people to invite, for this night of work in the woods.”

For some reason the Ambassador, after grabbing a scimitar from inside his room, and a long knife, holding them by the leather scabbards, moved in behind him, as he traveled from place to place. Which meant that at the very next room, Duma Sett narrowed her eyes at them, before looking at Anders rather coolly.

“Yes? What do you want?” It was close to as brisk as the woman had ever been with him. Which was about the man behind him making hostile faces and fingering the sword on his side like a madman. He barked at the larger man, feeling exasperated. He was old enough to know better.

“Stop acting like you came to fight!” The words were in Scara, so the Ambassador wouldn’t be able to claim he didn’t get the idea. To his credit, the man did freeze for a moment, make a hard face, then laughed a bit, smiling.

Then Anders turned and grinned.

“Duma! I’m checking to make certain you’re being well cared for. That and to invite Eltha Tenet out to the woods, for the evening. Ambassador Spent is going along, as a guard, with several others. Including Princess Peri, since, you know, we have several youthful princesses going, as well as Prince Erold and Prince Daren.”

The woman quirked her lips at him then.

“How nice to be included! I should attend as well? I haven’t camped out for... Oh, twenty years? The weather is a bit cold for that?”

He nodded, since it would be chilly, if you were wrapped in a wool blanket, under the night sky.

“It’s a magical practice session. We should all be warm enough. We should be heading out in an hour or so?”

They had to move quickly then, but after only half that time they had everyone going out for the night standing at the side of the castle, with only Daren having thought to get blankets for them all. Except for Anders, who had stopped by his room, to get his bed roll. That meant Depak and Hoatha came out with similar things, as did Lady Martya. Instead of starting a fight, she simply moved over to the other version of her and gave him a hug.

“Hoatha! How nice to see you again!”

Princess Salina, seeming baffled, standing directly next to Princess Mathia, made a face.

“I’m... When would you have met?”

Martya simply shrugged, and spoke in Scara.

“Hoatha is, for lack of a better term, my brother. There’s a story there, I assure you. I’ve hidden that I have magic here, since it has been the way, until recently.” Then she switched back to Istlan. “Now, Anders, I heard that Count Verit lived? He has full use of his mind and body?”

Princess Peri sparkled then, in her happiness. At least is seemed as if she would have done that, if magic had been her calling. A thing that was, at least in potential, rather possible.

“Lonn is restored to us! His great anger is gone, and we were assured that this will hold, at least for some time. It’s been so terrible for him, these last years. He fought so hard against the affliction of his spirit and now, in an instant, he’s back. The torment removed.” She glanced at Anders, with a look that spoke of being more than mildly fond of him. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it from her, but it was, he thought, the first time he understood that she really meant it.

That it wasn’t about lust, or inappropriate things, just her actually thinking he was special. That idea left him feeling rather shy, for a moment. Not long, of course, since he had things to organize.

“Thank you all for coming. Chaperones, please stand back when we get to the clearing. Prince Erold and Princess Mathia, if you would provide light? Princess Lissa and Prince Daren will be required to act first. Setting a foundation and cellar. Then Salina and Javina will finish the upper levels. We’ll all work on beds. Did everyone get to that one?” The spell component for that was far more advanced than it had been for the others, but everyone seemed to be letting him know that they, indeed, didn’t need him to hold their hands while they worked.

Which was perfect, of course.

The trick, even with himself, would be to keep actively training in magic for long enough that it became part of their natures. That, he figured, would take about ten years or so. That didn’t mean they had to learn at a frantic pace the whole time. Just that they used magic most days, for a variety of things. Then, doubtless, they’d each find the level that they actually needed for such things in life. That probably wouldn’t be that high or advanced, even if they were all doing well, at present.

After all, Princesses didn’t need high healing skills. No, what they used each day would probably involve a lot of clothing and skills in decoration. Someone like Erold would most likely need the skills of the wizard, to rule, or in his case, to help his brother do so. He had no clue what the others would do with their new skills, if anything.

That was fine, of course.

The role of the teacher wasn’t to set a course in life. It was to give basic instruction, so that the learner could move out into the world and become whatever it was they needed to be.

They walked, chattering amiably enough, with a bright glow coming from Erold and Mathia, above their fingertips. On their left hands, since that was the only way they knew to make a light, so far. Mathia had a light that was orange, like the glow of fire, where Erold produced a bright white, like the sun at mid-day.

Anders didn’t tell anyone what to do, leaving that to them. It was... A disaster. At least for the first hour. Then, seeming a bit shy, Daren, stood forward.

“Sorry, we need to start over. Princess Lissa? I’ll make a line, digging the earth away with spells, and then we can empty that, over to this spot?” He moved and stood in place, ducking his head, as if making a suggestion was rude.

The girl didn’t bother acting that way.

“Finally, a plan. Yes, we should do that. I agree.”

Things went faster then, and with both of them breathing as if they were running a race, they moved enough earth and rock to make an impressive hill in the medium sized meadow. Then they hardened the walls and at Daren’s insistence, made four sturdy columns, to hold up the floors above.

Then Salina and Javina moved in and... Did everything nearly perfectly. Mainly thanks to Salina being pushy and demanding her own way, but it worked and while they didn’t have water, the two-story structure was more than large enough for twenty people to live in, without being too close. They had separate interior walls, and no doors, since they hadn’t learned to make those, as of yet.

Anders could, so, instead of being an awful person, he did his part. By using complicated spells that passed the constructed doors, made of wood taken from downed trees, and some metal hinges made from scrap that Daren ran and collected for them, through the hardened earth and rock walls. Directly to their needed places.

Then, when that was finished, he set each of the students who had the skills, to making the special beds. Those took a lot of energy and effort. Materials as well. The soft mattresses were of woven wood, the trees pulled apart to make soft strands, that felt like silk, with the outer portion being woven of the same material. The frames were of wood as well. Dried using magic, to call the moisture away in mere moments, instead of days or weeks.

In short, they were impressive. The spells were also slow. Taking nearly half an hour to assemble themselves in the clearing, outside. Anders had to move them inside, of course, using his new trick. Then, at close to mid-night, they each went in, selected bedrooms and went to sleep.

Before he could properly close his eyes, there was a tapping at his door. He checked, to see who it was, and went to it, feeling a bit odd.

It wasn’t Martya, or Hoatha wanting to talk to him, or even one of the Princesses. No, it was Eltha Tenet, who pushed her way into his room, rather suddenly.

“There. Alone now. Duma Sett will realize I’m gone in a few moments. So... Here.” She bent over, not as much as she might once would have had to, and kissed him, rather warmly, on the lips. His body started to respond, and Farad, the old and stuffy historian with an unnatural fear of women, started to push her away, in shock.

Anders, the young portion of himself, took over then, kissing her back, with at least as much skill. Then, after some moments, feeling as if he truly wished to do more, he did move her back.

“I have to send you away. For now. This... Well, I’m in charge here, so it isn’t proper.” That was the best he could think of to explain things.

Which had him kissed again. Eltha, who was twenty, he thought, didn’t push him for more than that, and stood back after a bit. Smirking. As if she’d won something against him.

“Until we meet again, then, Anders Brolly?”

With those words, she used the door and left. Leaving him feeling, distinctly... Odd.

A thing that at least part of him seemed to truly enjoy.

Chapter eight

A week and a half later, Anders was beginning to wish that he hadn’t insisted that Jeld, or several others, try to learn magic as he had. With the servant it was very clear that the man simply didn’t wish to learn. He fought the lessons at each step, and while he could be pushed to do the task, he refused to let it come easily to him. Indeed, the man wasn’t alone in that at all. Of the seven servants put forward, pulled into the task by promises of wealth or power, all of them had done much the same thing.

They’d learned, but things that should have taken them hours were moved into being the effort of days. Worse, it was due to a willful laziness when it came to magic, not any real lack on their portions. Jeld was, as it turned out, a fairly clever man, able to learn other new things with skill and speed. Still, after ten days, while Prince Erold and Princess Mathia had learned hundreds of spell components and made good inroads to learning the basics of wizardry, Jeld had managed to pick up four hand gestures. The first ones.

Those had mainly come because Lissa had beaten him with a stick. Harshly enough that, after a while, Anders had to stop her. Without that, solid brutality being used, the man refused to progress at all. Worse, the other servants that tried were all doing even worse. Each had managed one step, but would simply choose not to learn at a reasonable pace at all.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t learn, but rather that, even motivated by greed, they simply couldn’t allow themselves to reach past their fear. Part of him wanted to give up on all of them, since it wasn’t very rewarding for him. Princess Lissa was doing better, teaching Queen Maura, so it wasn’t a failure of the techniques. No, it was a failure of the students. They weren’t really motivated. A thing that, in the end, was the fault of the instructor.

Farad despaired at the idea of such failures. He’d had some, in his first life, of course. Mainly young boys who had been lured to the hermitage with a lust of learning, at a very young age. Then, the growth of a man would hit at about eleven years and they became distracted by other, more worldly things than dry texts.

This was different.

The new students were failing in the first moments, refusing to use the memory techniques, if applied to magic at all. Jeld, when tested, had learned a good bit of Scara using the same tricks, as easily as anyone else had.

Which caused Anders to truly consider tossing him out of the lessons.

Except that he hated to let the students down. It was wasted energy, forcing a person to do things they didn’t want to, of course. Which meant he needed to motivate them to find a reason for doing it. Most of them had started when it was pointed out that learning such things could improve their lives. That was a long way off, for most of them, however.

Riches, promised, but not seen. A fantasy of improved station, without anyone even ever having done it, except Daren. Who hadn’t been flashing his new found wealth around, of course. For that matter, neither had Anders.

To that end, not thinking it would really work at all, Anders used some of his scrap linen to make a small purse. Then he dressed it to look like rich silk, with an embroidered design. A wolf, to signify that the coins within belonged to the King. Not that the design was the same one he used. Not exactly. Anders had a more realistic version of the animal on it. Glinting a little in the light from his window.

Then he filled the sack with silver coins. That and copper. He had to take that to his table, and shine each of them, using magic, removing the stamps in them, replacing them with one of his own making. A single star, with four points on one side, with King Mathias’s crest, on the other. Again, it was close, but not exact, since doing that would be laying a false claim. The King wasn’t truly angered with him at the moment, but he hadn’t loved hearing that their enemy from afar had not only come to visit, but had been there for years. Watching. Waiting.

Worse, Anders had told him, rather flatly, that no one thought that they, Istlan, or even their northern continent, could survive a battle with either of the versions of Ganges the Great and Terrible.

Meaning that avoiding that, battle, was the wiser course.

Which was what he needed to do with Jeld and the others.

They were working in the servants’ hall, after the morning meals, so it wasn’t difficult to call everyone together. From the glum looks on their faces, it was clear that all of them, including Jeld, were assuming they were going to be sent away.

Waving and calling out, Anders smiled at the men and women, all of them known by him. They were the people of his early life there at the castle. If they weren’t close to him, or friends, they had always been there in his world. So, he wasn’t going to be mean to them.

“If you learn one spell component per day and can demonstrate your knowledge of it, you receive one copper. Ten, and you earn a silver. If you learn twenty in a single day, even if you forgo sleep to do it, you will receive a gold. You may try this as many times as you wish. You all can, if you wish, make a silver a day and still do half a day’s work here. Here, see the coins? Take one, each of you.” He spilled them into his hand, passing a silver to each person. “More than most make in a month, right there, in your hands. Easily captured by each of you. Hold on to those. Feel them. Solid metal. Riches that you can earn, by simply listening, and accepting that you, every single one of you, has the skill you need to do this. Now, we will begin again. Find a comfortable place to sit. I’ll be looking into your minds, so, you understand, push the greed away and focus on the sound of my voice!”

Then, when they started, he pushed them, but also corrected what they were thinking, several times, with words.

“Now, set aside that fear. Magic is only a tool. You are the craftsman. As you do not fear a hammer, there is no concern over magic. Let that go, and feel the blackness around you. Thin and translucent.” Several of the people there worried again, suddenly. He caught why and nodded. “Translucent means clear. Easily seen through. Translucent. Hear the word. Focus on it. See through it. Now, in your mind, raise your right hand. Feel the shape of it. It tingles, deep in the palm. Imagine that happening now, in this hand, in your mind. As you push it outward, you feel a rush of power, of force. Extending out, your hand open, palm toward the direction you wish any object to move. Now, bring that all together, and then... Focus on the tunnel around you. The one that isn’t there at all.”

They were all doing it, this time, and when he placed the first stones in front of them, to push back, using their new magical abilities, he added one new thing.

“In a moment, you will bring your right hands up. Before we do that, I would remind you of what lies in your left. A coin of silver. A thing coveted by many. A thing you own, if only you will take it. A thing that is yours, earned by your will. Now, raise your outer hands, open your eyes, feel that tingle, deep in your palm, and extend that outward as you push, now.” His words were bland.

Each of the stones moved.

Then he had them do it one hundred times.

By mid-day, each of them were at ten new magics each. Which got him to smile. Bribing students wasn’t a wonderful thing, perhaps, but it had worked.

“Each day, from now on, you can earn your coins. Recall, if you wish to push for more, twenty new spell components per day will earn you each a gold coin. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

Anders wasn’t exhausted from his efforts, but he was both pleased and annoyed with the extra efforts he’d had to put in, to get the servants there to bother to learn. Then, the coins meant a lot less to him than having new magic users did. They were at war, after all.

Not that most of them weren’t going to learn how to do magical cleaning, first. Then serve for a time doing that for their visitors. Mainly because he wasn’t taking most of them with him to the front. Not with what they understood at the moment.

After the mid-meal, Anders had a few hours to spend on his own projects. Most of that time had been learning or practicing fighting of late, with the friendly Guard Cohen but that day they were being given a break. Mainly because Prince Erold had a meeting to attend. Which meant that he went to find Ganges. Hoatha, since they really hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time, in the last weeks. Not even to talk or go over plans.

He had to use wizard skills to find him, the man being in an unexpected place. That was in Lady Lyse’s quarters. Not, thankfully, doing anything too adult. They were merely speaking. With Lady Martya. That being the case, Anders simply moved to the door and knocked. Hearing his name, before Martya came to open it, smiling at him.

“There you are! How does the teaching go?” She seemed to be concerned for him on that one. Probably having gotten rather in-depth information about the topic. She had sources, after all.

Anders waved at the others, then bowed, using first courtly, getting a lazy curtsy back from Martya, a wave from his mother and a bob in place from Hoatha. Then he sighed.

“Each of them finally learned the first day’s work, after only a week or more of trying for each of them. I started over and offered them a silver for every day they learn ten new things. That worked. Showing that the issue is about motivation, not lack of ability. I didn’t think so, but... It’s a bit frustrating. I’m hoping that, over time, they’ll learn to do that for themselves.”

Lyse settled in her chair, a padded and comfortable thing, with pillows on the seat and back. Martya did the same, though Hoatha smiled at him.

“That’s an unusual method. Of course, it won’t last long. You can pay them for their efforts, but if they can’t see the value of it on their own, they’ll revert to their old pattern. Not that it matters. Teaching them even a few useful tricks will have an effect on others, which is the real point, I believe? At the same time, you have several students who are doing well on a level that is rare, indeed. That some have a harder time will simply make what you are doing here more valuable. Now, we were just wondering what the next plans are? We’re off to the front, I believe?”

It sounded odd, the way it was put. As if it were a light, or trivial thing, not possible death being placed before them. If the act of going to war held weight for his old friend, it didn’t show on either his face or his demeanor. He seemed relaxed about it, as if it were of no more effort or consequence than attending a party.

“Oh... Daren’s party! Did I miss that? I still haven’t given out the little gifts I have for people from my travels. That’s lazy of me. I’m leaving in a few days, too.”

There was a slightly concerned look, from his mother and a wave from Lady Martya. She seemed different as well, when she spoke. More mature than he recalled her, in the past. Something deeper coming out of her than he recalled being there. A thing which, he had to admit, might have been his imagination playing tricks on him.

“Prince Daren’s reception is this evening, in fact. We have it worked out, and all who are needed for it are invited. We didn’t add your name to the list, since you’ve been too busy for things such as that. Are you prepared for your new venture?”

Anders could have taken offense at not being invited to the party that evening, but it hit him as an actual relief, even if he probably needed to be there, at least in part, to show good will toward his friend. In the moment though, the words laid out for him to follow actually aided him, since they brought up an important point.

“I’m not, naturally. I’ve spent all of my last days here trying to get people ready for war. Failing, as well, in the main. The servants... I can’t see taking most of them with us. They have a few spells and I have proof they can do it now, but...”

The words were laughed at, gently, by Ganges. The way he did it was very familiar, if a millennium or more out of date.

As his hand waved them away, he grinned.

“Take them anyway? At least the men. This place doesn’t send women to war easily, from what I’ve been gathering. Perhaps task young Lissa with their training, while you are away? You can leave her some coin, and we can decorate her thrashing stick for her, to show her station in regards to that. I hear she already worked on... Jeld, was it? The new room man?”

That part, that the servants were, finally, seeing to their tasks was a nicety that had Anders feeling better about himself and his world, even if it didn’t show on his face that easily.

“Yes, Jeld. I’ll do as you suggest and set Lissa to the task. She’s growing in skill and can do that. If they fail to learn fast enough... Well, I don’t know what to do past bribery. Beating people into a task they loath won’t work. Not in the long term.”

No one spoke for a moment, which probably indicated he was supposed to be intelligent enough to work that out on his own. That or the topic had gone stale, and he needed to be more entertaining.

“So, I should go to the market tomorrow and do some shopping. I have my heavy cart and the oxen, but need to check them as well. Also... Well, it’s spring, so there isn’t a lot to take with us, to the front, is there? Food is scarce all over. Just now starting to be born or grow.”

That just meant it would be costly, in coin or effort. Still, if he used care, they could hunt on the way there. They would need to carry most of a season’s worth of food with them however, which would take more than one wagon. He could rent though and see about hiring some men on to work the trip for them.

He nearly rose, to go and see to that, when his mother cleared her throat, a tiny bit.

“I hear that you made acquaintance of Count Verit, last week?”

He nodded, hoping that wasn’t a problem of some sort. It was difficult at times to know with Lady Lyse. She would give cryptic or even plain warnings one day, then act as if she’d never spoken on a given topic at all, when next they met, depending on who was about. There was no real weight to these particular words, so he nodded.

“I did, in fact. A very kind man.”

Making a silly face at him, his mother nodded.

“So, I gather. Now, at least. Once again, I have heard talk that allowing you to go to the front is, perhaps, a waste of a good healer. What is your take on this, Hoatha?” She leaned forward, a tiny bit, as if sending a message to the youthful seeming man standing across the room by some paces.

“I think that not sending Anders would be a mistake. He has trained several competent war mages, already. On top of that, he is a force to be reckoned with, in his own person.”

There was a pause then, in speech, which was filled by Lady Martya.

“Do not think that your son is weak or easily frightened, Lyse. We have all heard the stories of his adventures. I don’t doubt that there will be more. If he lives through the coming battles, of course.”

That last, adding it, seemed almost mean. Ganges, a bit annoyingly, seemed to agree with the idea. Lady Lyse seemed honestly worried, suddenly, so Anders huffed a bit and pretended to be put out, crossing his arms.

“If you put it that way, then I should stay here and see to learning to cook more, instead.”

That got a polite chuckle, at least.

So he went on, sighing. It wasn’t a real thing, but was well enough done he thought, to seem nearly as if he meant it.

“War is dangerous. It is true that I could perish in doing this. Not doing it will leave us all open from attacks coming from Dora, in the coming seasons. If we are to have an army available to meet them in time, we must press Yanse back so hard that they will sue for peace and beg to become our fast friends. I don’t know if we can do this, but not heading to the front won’t aid the good men there in the victories they need. Even if all I can do is start a few chants and pat them on the back to bolster their moods, it’s worth doing.”

Anders readied a spell, not speaking it, but preparing to. If either Martya or Hoatha decided to speak out of turn again, he was going to make them feel dizzy and unable to right themselves for several minutes. Almost as if noticing his efforts, both people simply nodded.

Hoatha even smiled, covering his lips, as he looked at Lyse. She still seemed concerned.

“There is danger, but I will be with him. With Daren as well. So shall Depak. Nothing is assured in life, but it is a good group to go to war with. Recall, Anders Brolly is a veteran of several battles. Daren Willet has served as well, in the south. Both my son and I have seen more of war than either would care to recall, and lived to speak of it, so I do think we should be, if not safe, then at least alive, in the end.”

That wasn’t going to be helpful in regards to making his mother feel better, but Anders had to nod, anyway.

“Not that we’re going to throw two former kings into our war here.” He grinned then. “Not as long as we don’t start losing, at least. In that case...”

His old, ancient, friend, smiled at the words.

“Well, I can help with roads and make a river for you, if you need? I’m sure there will be things to do. See to sanitation for instance? That’s always needed at the front of any war.”

Anders stood then, or at least started to, only to be waved back down, by his mother.

“Not yet. I’ve barely spoken to you in weeks now. Aisla was complaining of the same thing, at the high meal, last night. To everyone there. So did several others. Princess Peri and Prince Robarts managed that for you, so that no one will think it too strange, perhaps, but it isn’t natural for a young man to be working as hard as you are, on war efforts.”

He made a face, but forced it into a grin. It clearly wasn’t very well done, since his mother gave him a look back, which spoke of scolding, without speaking the words.

“Forgive me. I shouldn’t sit here making faces. What do I do to fix this? Get drunk and start a fight with someone?”

There was a gentle nod, from his mother.

“Yes? Not that exactly, since it wouldn’t be accepted from you now... You’ve been too calm in the face of danger, too often for that to be believed. Perhaps you could get caught with a woman? I’d set Martya on you for that, but...”

She seemed caught out then, and tensed, as if a fight would start from it.

From Martya.

That lady, regardless of who she was inside, made her own face. One that spoke of consideration, instead of upset.

“Baroness Murry? She’s not too old to do that sort of thing, is comely enough that being seen with her won’t be an insult and the scandal of it wouldn’t be that unwelcome on her side, either. She’s a bit staid that way, and lacking in attention given that. We’d have to move quickly... Then you can send Anders off to the front, in shame?” She snapped her fingers then. “Oh... We could get the King to do it, instead? That will have greater impact. Just don’t get her with child. Unless you decide you like her? That... Well, one could do far worse. Is she known to you, Anders?”

“Um... No? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. Perhaps, given that, we shouldn’t malign her good name, should we? Besides, I’ve had some difficulties in certain areas.” In the past, at least. A thing that caused Martya to cough into her hand.

“Oh? I thought you past that. I noticed Eltha Tenet coming from your room in the forest palace, the other night...”

His mother, betraying him, as well as showing greater information than seemed normal, simply spoke, as if it were a normal topic for them.

“I noticed that as well. Word has it they only kissed, however. That’s hardly enough for a proper scandal. Plus, as a woman from a different land, saying such things about her might cause problems. I’ll send Baroness Murry to you, if she’s willing. There, settled. Now, what do you have planned for your own life, Anders? More work, I suppose?”

He nodded, even if he honestly didn’t have such plans, at the moment.

“Naturally. Before I leave at a quick walk, may I ask... Am I truly being scolded for working too hard? I need to know, in case it’s a real issue and not me simply being teased without mercy.”

Lyse actually snorted. Making it two or three times he’d heard her make such a low born noise in his life. That he recalled, at least.

“This is deathly serious, my child. You have come to the attention of the high court, which is never an easy thing. Worse, your name is being spoken of as if you were important. You are, of course, but that isn’t what a boy of your age should ever seek. So, we need to sabotage you, a bit. With something that won’t truly do harm to you, but at the same time, will show you as a real boy. There have been rumors that you were taken over by an outside force of some sort. One that might be a threat to others here.”

Anders was angry enough at the words that Farad had to take over, dropping into a deep trance.

“Ah? Who’s been suggesting such things? I wasn’t aware that I had any real enemies here, yet.”

Martya reached out and took his arm, which resonated with a sense of calm, attempting to influence him, against his will. Not that he let himself feel anger, after a moment.

The curly haired woman, looking pale and attractive, winked at him.

“No one of consequence to you. People will always speak, just as they will always fear what they don’t instantly understand. Don’t allow it to color your thoughts. If nothing else, going for those who fear you will simply cause more to think of you in such light.”

Which was all true, of course. It didn’t make it any easier for him to manage himself at the moment, the rage pouring into and through him in a way that felt unnatural. After a moment, he forced himself back to calm, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Using his wizardry skills, Anders searched himself first. His brain was fine, as far as he could determine. No one was casting a spell at him that he could find either. As the white-hot rage left him, he felt it dropping from within. It was, it just seemed, to be him. Anders at least. His very nature bristled instantly, at the mere thought of being attacked.

A thing that everyone there noticed happening. So, when he calmed, he nodded.

“Well, I’ll be gone in some days’ time. Then, when the war ends... I was thinking I could move to another land? At least away from here. That should allow people to feel more at ease.” He shook his head then. “Only, no. If I run from those who fear magic, they’ll keep having to be the way they are. Only by causing them to become used to such things will they learn not to be so... Silly.”

Ganges, seeming ancient, managed to sound bored. As if it were a thing that he’d seen before, too many times to count.

“Such things will always run hot and cold. This year people fear you for filling a tankard with water after a few strange sounding words. In two more, those same people will beg for your favor in filling their own cup. It’s the same in all places, for all people. I knew a smith once, who was reviled in his town for making knives that were too sharp and which were hard to break. Good things, but still, he was hated for doing it.”

“What did he do about it?” Anders wondered if it was a trick or a false story, to distract him from his anger of the moment.

His friend, looking so familiar, as he had as a boy or at least nearing twenty, took a deep breath.

“Nothing. He kept making the blades, until he was killed for it, after twenty or thirty years. Now such knives are made by many of the best smiths. You own a similar one yourself, Anders.” He shrugged.

Lyse glared at the story, but gave a short bow in the man’s direction.

“So, you’re saying that nothing can be done?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. Anders isn’t a surly smith from a small town. He can do a thousand things. Including simply carrying on as he has been. I dare say that those in power here speak of him in friendly terms, as a loyal and brave servant and friend. That some at court mistake things out of mild fear will fade, if you merely show them that you are consistent in what you do. Do good works. Be kind... Be generous and brave. I doubt that much will follow you past the year, if you do that. At least until you slip up and do something that makes them afraid again.”

The words were comforting to hear. Why that was, Anders didn’t really know. Farad worked it out and shared, thankfully. It was that Anders had, over the last months, done gentle and kind things with enough ease that he had to wager he could keep doing it. Not at war, directly, but after that, it should be possible.

Plus, the old man knew a thing that Anders only suspected. It came from having hundreds of books, many about wars, inside his mind.

Those who won the wars were almost always lauded in their own times. That meant, more than anything else, that Anders simply had to win, when he went to the front. That and survive. Nothing else was in his plans, so he felt as if not much had changed that way, given the conversation.

“Good. Well, I should go and... Not work? Possibly talk to someone who isn’t too much older than myself? Sit in a hallway, eating sweets and drinking juice?”

Lady Lyse pulled her fan, and leaving it closed, tapped her mouth. Smiling.

“That... Yes? Do that? We need someone to come and loudly query you as to what you have in the cup... I’ll handle that. Outside the low hall, in say... An hour?”

That she was serious was humorous to him, but he had to admit that something sweet did sound pleasant at the moment. Juice did as well, if he could find any. It was a hard season for such things, since, as everyone knew, you got the best juice in winter. A soft beer could work as well. Anders didn’t drink often, but he could, in order to sway the minds of others.

Standing, he nodded.

“I need to go eat. Perhaps I can arrange that with Senna Grace? I’m certain I’ll look poorly in her eyes, if I do that. A shame, since I do want to be held in good stead, by certain people.”

There was a wink and then a hug, from Martya.

“Do it anyway? Simply explain it to the cooks. That will draw them closer to you. You have to impress more than the nobles here, after all.”

With that said, he bowed to everyone, and left. Feeling... slow and as if he wasn’t doing something right. For the life of him, he simply couldn’t work out what that was.

Chapter nine

Anders woke with his right-hand opening, thrust into the darkness of his bedchamber, toward... Something. There was a sound, but it wasn’t the typical explosion or dull thump that the move caused, most of the time, when used against a person. Instead, there was a rapid movement that he dodged, after a fashion, by rolling away from whatever was happening. From the sound it was all about stabbing into the place he’d just been.

“This is annoying. I was having a good dream, you do know that, don’t you? It’s so rare when I do that anymore.” He sounded glib, which wasn’t how he felt about the situation at all. It also wasn’t true. He’d been dreaming of killing four men, with magic.

The assassin laughed.

“Forgive me then, Warbow. I simply cannot allow you to return to the war. The portents do not go well for my people, if you go to the front.” The man stopped speaking, screaming instead.

Mainly because Anders had set the bed on fire, which rose in a sudden wall of white-hot flame, illuminating the room. Then he spoke, his voice barely audible.

“Hom verin bi bar ere fen ot!” There was a bit of screaming involved, but Anders tried to keep a manly bass to his voice. It came out as a tenor, but at least wasn’t a high-pitched squeal, so he decided to take it as a win.

The attacker screamed again. This time he moved back, clutching his eyes, which were glowing, brightly enough that looking at him was a bit painful. The room was filling with smoke, even as he put the bed of flames out, using a simple hand gesture. His left hand contorted and aimed at the place he wasn’t going to be finishing his night’s sleep.

“Bar, ere ot ere, fen ot...” A line of light, of only normal brightness, ran haphazardly along his ceiling, just as four castle guards ran into the room.

One of them, a man known well to Anders, spoke first.

“Why is he screaming? He... tried to sneak in and take advantage of you?” The words weren’t even playful, just spoken as if that might truly be the reason for there to be a burning bed and smoke, along with a man who was still screaming about his eyes.

In Yansian. Which made some sense, given it was Duke Cohen, dressed in the gray of a castle guard, his dagger still in his hand. Anders removed that from play, using a spell. One that cut the blade into five portions, making it very hard, if not impossible to use as a weapon.

Anders shook his head and spoke, his voice calm.

“Nothing that untoward. He only tried to kill me, in my sleep. Apparently for his people, to protect them, which is honorable enough, I suppose. I woke up fighting. He has some kind of counter magic on him, I think. I hit him with an explosive spell and it didn’t even make him step back. It didn’t block fire from the outside or his eyes starting to glow. I can stop that now?”

Sergeant Hod, who was a sturdy man of little compassion in weapons practice, waved at his men.

“Hold that for the moment, if you can, Anders. Lewit, get some rope. We want him bound before he can recover himself. Cohen is good in a fight.”

The whole thing took a few moments and there was yelling and screaming going on the whole time, with an alert going up, since an attempt to kill one boy might not be the end of the events planned. Given that, Anders fought to drop into a trance, even as his heart raced, seeking any sign that there was a further attack happening, or about to.

Which meant that he noticed when Cohen brought his hands around, and started to summon magical powers.

“Friend Followgrath, pretender of stone, aid me, please!”

The words were called out in Yansian, and for a moment, nothing seemed to be happening. Not until the floor itself grew into the shape of a monster. One that looked vaguely like a man, rough shaped from clay. When the guards moved in, before it could gain footing, their swords sparked and in one case, broke against the thing. The floor where it stood was gone, the thing hovering in the air, magic causing it to float.

Then, ignoring the grown men, it moved at Anders, as if it knew where to attack. Thankfully it wasn’t fast. That gave him a moment to notice some things. First, that Duke Cohen was holding still, and had gone silent. There was a strong flow of magic to the construct, but at the heart of it, inside the fit fellow, was a glowing mass of energy. A thing that nearly glowed as it pulled at Anders’ thoughts. A Slouagh.

A being of power which Anders didn’t have even the first clue how to battle at all. Not yet. For a moment he thought about killing Cohen, but that might not stop the thing at all, and leaving the man alive could, potentially, allow them to question him.

Instead, he laughed. He didn’t mean it, but it sounded braver than soiling his bed clothes.

“Guards out. I’m going to lead this thing on a merry chase. If someone could please summon Depak Sona? Tell him there’s a dark entity in Duke Cohen, that is the source of this animated bit of stone.” He had to dodge a slow, but no doubt powerful, blow, then. Actually, rolling on the floor.

One of the guards yelled then.

“Move back! Clear the hallway! Magical attack. Depak to Anders’ chamber! Depak to Anders’ Chamber!”

He kept calling that out as the larger men moved back, with sounds of running and in a few cases, doors slamming, along the hallway. Anders simply moved then, walking backwards, holding a light above his left hand, so that he could see as he did so. Interestingly, almost as if an animated corpse or a man walking in his slumber, Duke Cohen followed along. Powering the golem with the energy from within. It was a good trick, given the man was clearly blind. Probably forever, since his eyes had decided that glowing like the sun was their new task.

He had to move at a brisk pace, but wasn’t dashing backward, truly. On occasion, near the end of the hallway, he had to do something a bit more significant, dashing past the monster of stone, to keep the man and his beast there, attempting to kill Anders. For several minutes he did that, moving back and forth, nearly being caught, twice, the stone creature speeding up for moments, attempting to snag him by the arm or night shirt as he rolled past it on the hard floor.

He was, he knew, going to have bruises from doing that.

After some time, Depak came running up, watched the situation for a moment and then nodded.

“A slouagh? It is... Located within this man, here? I have it now. Allow me to...”

The man spoke for a very long time, lines of energy flowing from his fingertips, weaving a net of energy, then seeming to gently pull the dark entity from inside of the Duke, capturing it, as it screamed in an unearthly fashion. When the spell was ended, Depak Sona smiled, gently. The golem of stone simply stopped moving, becoming a rather homely statue.

“I have this now, gentlemen. I need to repair to my chamber. Could a clay pot or vase, be found for me? A live chicken or small animal, as well? I hate to sacrifice such a poor creature, but it is the only way to bind such things in a long-term fashion.”

Anders, out of breath, simply nodded.

“That... Seems possible. I’ll run to the storeroom and see if I can free up a pot like that. Clay?”

The man, seaming unstrained by the effort of holding the struggling energy beast, dipped his head, once.

“Indeed, Anders Sona. I also need a small animal, if one of you others could see to that? I can’t hold this being forever, as I am doing now, so haste would be welcome?”

Anders, out of breath or not, ran then. He knew where the storeroom was, after all. Near the back of the castle, in the cellar there. It had, not too long before, been one of the places he’d gone to hide from work. Not behind the shelves of clay vessels, specifically, since it was too easy to see past those. Still, he knew where they were, and could invade the space, since it was never locked.

He even had his own light, so didn’t have to stumble and fall as he moved down the stone stairs to find what was needed. The object he grabbed wasn’t vast, but still, it took both his arms to wrap around it. It was awkward, being round, but had a wide top, since, he had to guess, that would be needed if a living animal was to be trapped inside of it.

An idea that left Farad feeling bad, for a moment. He’d killed animals, to eat, and men, even some women, because of battle being upon him, but he’d never sacrifice anything specifically for magical purposes. That sounded as if it might lead to torment for whatever poor animal they had to use for the task.

He ran, moving carefully, toward Depak’s new chamber, in the visitor’s wing. It wasn’t where the Ambassadors were kept, but was just as nice, inside the rooms. All of the Barquean Princesses were there as well. All awake, too, standing in the hallway, seeming scared.

Jasmin waved to him, in fact and spoke, in Scara.

“What transpires, Prince Anders? We heard commotion and screams in the distance.”

He smiled, as if it were a grand adventure, instead of a dire attack.

“Assassination attempt, using first a blade, then a slouagh. We’ll go over the whole thing, in the morning? Right now, Depak Sona is going to seal it away, so needs a clay pot and a live animal. That should be coming, I hope?”

The girls clutching themselves in a slightly princessly fashion, seemed to go more tense then, instead of less. So, he waved at them.

“Why don’t you all go and get some more sleep? We leave in the morning, and you’ll want to be well rested for that. Except for you, Lissa.” He was slighting her, in his nerves, not calling her a princess. She didn’t mention it. Friends did that kind of thing, after all.

“I’m not to go with you? I already packed...”

He grinned, moving toward Depak’s chamber.

“Not that one. You just have to do it with too little rest. I want you to observe what is being done here.” There was no real reason for it, other than the fact that, out of all of the new students, Princess Lissa, the youngest of them, was clearly the most dedicated to the learning.

Salina made a rather bratty face about the idea.

“You said that I was the new Great One of Barquea. Shouldn’t I be there to learn this, too?”

The others chimed in then, so Anders shrugged.

“That is... Actually a very fine point. In that case, go and rouse the others. The advanced students?” It would be interesting to see who they picked for that role. To his mind it was only three others. The ones he was planning to force into hard magical labor over the next days.

Escaping into Depak’s room, he left the door open, to find the man sitting at a common looking table, the green and purple of the dark entity floating in place over it. It struggled, but wasn’t getting out easily. The master wasn’t even breathing hard, as of yet.

“Ah! Perfect, Anders. You even have a lid for it? I have some sealing wax, and some oil, which I have already prepared. Now we need only the sacrifice. Are you staying to see how this is done?”

He set the pot down, out of the way, on the floor. Near where a large container made of finer ceramic lie. The one with oil in it, most likely, since a large block of soft red wax was next to it on the other side.

“We have others coming for that, as well? I mentioned to Princess Lissa that she should lose sleep to watch and the other soft Princesses demanded the right to learn and observe as well. The new Great One of your people, Salina, suggested that first. They are getting the other good students, so you understand, take this time to mentally practice the lesson, so you don’t have to stammer or lose your place too often?” He was teasing, a bit, which was probably out of place, but the master magician simply smiled, as if a gift were being given to him.

“That is... Impressive. I can’t tell you how rare that kind of thing is, Anders. Now, you have selected Salina to be our new Great One?” The man smiled and then, after a moment, nodded. “Very well! It’s past time for me to fade from that position anyway. Do you plan to take such a role for Istlan, do you think?”

The question wasn’t a thing that he’d ever considered before.

“I... Really, that should go to the person best suited to the task. That may not be me. Daren isn’t powerful yet, compared to some of the others, but he has the best grasp of the needed skills. Of our people here, Princess Mathia is the most powerful, but is having some issues learning the more complex skills rapidly. Still, in time that may well change, for either of them.” He didn’t mention Prince Erold, who was a decent student and had been trying hard, every single day. The truth was that his skills indicated he would probably be a more ordinary user of magic that way.

He was stronger than Daren, and faster in learning complex things than Mathia, but not enough in either direction to mark him as special. Also, while he did give much energy to the new learning, he clearly didn’t hold special interest or love for the topic itself. When he could, he focused on combat and fighting more commonly. That wasn’t a bad thing, for a man who might one day be a king.

It was even more important for a Prince who likely wouldn’t take that station in life.

When they showed up, with Jeld in tow, the man being herded into the room by Lissa, standing behind everyone else, several guards ran up, carrying a small cage that held a chicken, as had been asked for. It was not happy to be there and made that known with loud clucking and other, more distressed noises. A commotion that was truly warranted, Anders feared. It was about to have very bad things done to it, after all.

Depak Sona stood and bowed to the assembled students, smiling.

“Slough, or at times sluoagh... Dark entities as they are called in this land, can be bound in several ways. The easiest is to find a human being with an affinity for allowing such to ride them, and then confine them to a cell or cage, in a dark place, and barely feed them. The being within will keep them alive far longer than they would last otherwise. The hardest way of trapping one is in stone. A large rock may be used for that, the being tricked into inhabiting it by using the blood of animals to make it believe it is going into something living. This takes great magic, as well as a very long time to truly get them to settle. You have to hold them long enough for them to slumber.”

He waved then at the things on the floor of the room.

“This, what I will do now, is the middling way. We will prepare the jar, then place the chicken in it, still alive. The whole thing will then be passed into the cage holding the slough, which will move into the living creature, in order to escape. Then we will place the lid on, forcing the bird into the oil. It will not die. In such a configuration, such a being might keep an animal alive for decades. Perhaps centuries.”

He waved at the floor.

“Salina, if you will aid me? The rest of you observe and use those memory tricks later to firm this in your minds. These are essential skills, for those such as we. The pot first, which needs to have the oil poured into it. Carefully, please. I’m leaving in some hours and don’t wish to invite mice into the space, in my absence.”

The Princess, in a heavy robe, tied in the front, but shining in the light coming from the ceiling, a decorative thing that seemed like a slowly moving waterfall of gold and sunlight, did as she was asked. Including getting the chicken in the oil, with help from Daren, then, carefully, together, they pushed the container into the glowing green and purple light.

The bird screamed, which didn’t sound normal at all. Anders simply took the lid and moved in, before Depak could request it being done, and slapped the thing on the top. The noise still came from inside of it.

“Hold that in place? Now, we need to melt the wax, and seal the lid. Without burning Anders too much. Princess Mathia, if you would see to that for us?”

The girl, looking wide eyed and nearly terrified, still did it, working out a tidy, if simple spell, to warm the wax, and then ran it physically on the lid, wisely cooling it, once she was finished, so that the wax, all of it, possibly for at least thirty paces from her, went totally solid.

Depak clapped then, getting a few of them to jump, since the container was still making rather unwholesome sounds.

“Now, it will, in some days or weeks, go silent. Until then, we should find an out of the way spot for this? For the moment, Anders, can you inform me of what took place, exactly? I was slightly preoccupied earlier...”

He tightened his face then, and looked at the others. Mainly Erold and Daren.

“Duke Cohen came into my room, intent on killing me. As I slept. I woke up fighting for some reason. He stabbed my bed with enough firmness that I’m convinced it was a real attempt to kill and not him mistaking me for his new lover. First, I tried to make him explode, which did nothing, him seeming to have protection of some sort. Then I burned him, lighting the bed on fire as he touched it. After that, I caused his eyes to glow with a blinding light, which distracted him. For a while. Then he summoned this dark entity, the Pretender of Stone, to attack me. It wasn’t fast, so I darted around having it follow me, while we called for Depak Sona.” He blew a large gust out then. “It was inside the Duke. I hadn’t even thought to check for that and I was with the man each day, in weapons practice. Though, I have checked his thoughts, to make certain he was on our side and... Well, I found nothing indicating otherwise, the whole time.”

Truly, he’d felt poorly about doing it. Untrusting of their new ally, who had been so cruelly betrayed by his own king, for some unknown reason. A story which, suddenly, seemed a bit suspect.

Prince Erold growled.

“That is not good. The man swore an oath to my father. Also, Master Tolan also checked his thoughts. How did he hide himself, do you think?”

There was a voice from the door then. Anders turned to see Hoatha standing back, behind Jeld, having watched the goings on, it seemed.

“Probably by using the slough to dampen certain considerations. The affinity was stone? That would work for it. Stone is quiet and calm. If done well, the man might not have even known that he was lying about anything, until the order came to kill. Interesting that he went for you, Anders. On the night before you go off to the war, even. That speaks of a man under time pressure, to me.”

There was a grunt from Depak, nearly drowned out by the screaming from the clay pot.

“Agreed, Father. This man seems to have worked out where the greatest threat to his people comes from, and sought to protect them. If it was a mere order, from his masters, then the fellow would have probably gone for the King or Heir. That or an important general. Not a boy playing at magic.”

There was a hand wave at the end of the sentence, as if dismissing Anders’ efforts. Which was probably fair. He almost had to seem that way from the outside.

Prince Erold took a step toward the door, but stopped, looking at Depak. His voice wasn’t defensive at all.

“Except that anyone with eyes and a will to watch would see that Anders Brolly is the one lifting us, magically, in this land. It is his will and effort strengthening us and giving us some small chance to change the outcome of the war with Yanse. A thing known to Duke Cohen. He even acted impressed by it. Indeed, he gained several students for us, from the staff here. Word had him even going to the city and seeking students there, in his own person, as well.”

None of those had come in yet, thankfully.

The servants might not be truly motivated to learn magic, but they were people that Anders knew and had for years. Plus, he was paying them more to learn than the other man would have to be spies or saboteurs. Even if that had been their plan, it had probably changed the moment they learned that he was a better source of coin.

He was about to ask what they were supposed to do then, when Prince Robarts and Prince Alpert, both armed with long knives, walked into the room. They stared at the screaming pot on the table. Erold waved at them, which had the blades put away, instantly.

“We trapped a dark entity. We need to move this pot to a secluded vault. One away from people, since it will make this noise for a while. Clearly, we need to move it carefully, so it can’t get out.”

Prince Robarts seemed to think for a moment.

“The remote vault? It’s locked, but I can gain entry. That’s near the back wall. Anders, if you and...” He stopped then, looking at the others, then lighting on Jeld, who was actually a servant there.

Anders turned and waved.

“Jeld and Princess Salina? Jeld and I will do the actual carrying, this time, of course.”

The spoiled, bratty Princess... simply stood there regally, and moved ahead of them, a light coming from above the tips of her fingers, to guide the way, as if that had been his reasoning, the whole time. It wasn’t. Prince Robarts and four gray clad guards moved with them out into the night, the sun just starting to peak above the trees in the distance, telling him that morning was upon them. It was nearly time to leave already.

Still, the work needed to be done first and if possible, Anders was going to eat before he climbed into a saddle.

As they walked Salina cleared her throat.

“Why pick me for this? You could cast a light as well as I can. Any of us in that room could have.” She, politely, was speaking in Istlan. Which probably meant she didn’t think the reasoning was all that dire.

Anders smiled, knowing that she wouldn’t see it, being in front of him as she was.

“Ah. Well, Depak Sona heard that I had picked you to be the new Great One of Barquea, and has agreed with that. He plans to step out of the way and give that title over to you, when you are ready. The duties of a Great One, of course, are different than that of a mere Princess. So, you have to go into the scary cellars, carrying the eerily screaming pot and things like that. Jeld is just being picked on because he’s a servant here. Though, when I asked for the advanced students to be called for, I notice that he was summoned? That speaks of great things as well, don’t you think, Prince Robarts?”

Anders readjusted his hands on the clay pot, a bit. It wasn’t heavy, but walking sideways, while working with someone else was awkward. Jeld looked at him strangely, as if afraid, suddenly. A thing he hadn’t been about carrying the noisy dark entity. Not outwardly, at least.

The Prince simply nodded.

“Indeed, it would seem so. You’re representing the kingdom in the war, soon, Master Jeld?”

The other man ducked his head.

“Yes, Prince Robarts. We leave in some hours, I think. I was told to pack for it. Not everyone was, but we wasn’t told why.”

Anders, feeling mean about it, corrected the man. A very rude thing to do, even at the best of times.

“You weren’t told why. Not that anyone here heard me correct you. You have to speak clearly, from now on. The reason is that you can do the work that will be needed and the others can’t yet. Even bribing them to learn is only getting medium level results. My hope for you is that we can kindle a love of learning inside of you, on this trip. That you will find value in it. Plus, if Great One Salina is going all the way to the front, you’ll be needed to guard her. With your life, if need be. The other Princesses will be returning here, at about the two thirds mark, on the map. The trip won’t be fun or easy, then we will face death on the far side.” He shrugged and kept walking.

“Depak asked me who would be the Great One of Istlan. Daren Willet and Princess Mathia were both mentioned for that. Then, clearly a land can have more than one of those. Perhaps you will aid Jeld here in doing the same as you are, for his people, Princess Salina?”

Instead of acting too good to help a servant out, she spoke, haughtily, but with words that were decently kind, for all of that.

“Of course! Especially if his task is to help keep me alive. I... Hadn’t thought about going to the front of a war. Will I be in the battle, do you think?”

Anders nodded.

“Yes. A Great One must not shirk her duty. Of course, this isn’t your land, so you’ll also have to stand back and allow us to take the lead there. What do you think, Prince Robarts... Should we also risk Princess Mathia to such a task?” He wasn’t playing at all, hearing instead the voice of Depak Sona, in his mind. Telling him that princes couldn’t be coddled too much, or they would grow to be poor leaders.

He didn’t know if that was the same for princesses.

Shockingly, and Anders truly felt a thrill of fear at the move, the Prince nodded.

“I will speak to the King, my father, about this? It may not be allowed, for you either, Princess Salina. We will also need to ask the Sula about this. Still, you have permission for both of them to ride out, and can contact us here, correct, Anders?”

“I can, Prince Robarts.”

They still had to walk for a while, until they came to a small, locked door, made of heavy timbers, on a stone building that looked almost like an outhouse. Robarts used a key, pulled from inside his tunic, which had him searching for some moments to find the correct piece of metal.

Then, Salina, the Great One in training, went first, even if she was clearly nervous about it. There were stone steps leading down and a decently large vault under the earth there, shored up with heavy timbers and a lot of stone. The place was damp and cool inside, but other than shelves with various bits of art and some nice chairs and chests, it wasn’t special or even gloomy.

Part of that, the lack of sinister aspect, was due to the fact that Salina was producing a fine light for them, that didn’t even flicker or dim over time, like a torch might have. They walked, awkwardly, down the steps, with Anders being the one to do it backwards, one step at a time. Then, inside the room proper, he selected the far-left corner, and moved toward it. That was empty, with only a pile of soft looking carpets nearby. They were older things, but decorative enough. The damp there would, eventually, ruin them, he didn’t doubt.

Still, they weren’t going to break the pot, so it seemed safe enough.

“And down. Let me...” The pot was, carefully, pushed all the way into the corner, just off of touching the stone of the walls by a mere finger’s width. Then pulled out to four, in case the thing inside ever managed to make the pot move enough to hit anything.

Then he stood up and brushed his hands off.

“There! Now... We pretty much need to get ready. On the good side, I bet we all sleep well tonight! Salina, I’d like you and Jeld to be ready to do the first two hours of road work. That won’t be until mid-day. If we have to remove moisture, I’ll have Daren and Erold doing that for you, which will make it far easier than if you have to do it all yourself. Trust me on that. Then, when we stop for the night, we’ll need housing for everyone. Salina, you’ll be in charge of that.” He stopped then. “I don’t mean doing the work yourself. I mean in organizing the others into doing it. Try to get a sense of who’s good at what and place everyone in the right spot?”

They all walked outside, with him being demanding enough that a bit of scolding was probably in order. Prince Robarts had stiffened enough that it seemed he expected that.

Salina simply nodded.

“I get to order you around for that, too?”

“Of course. More to the point, do it in such a way that no one realizes that you’re guiding them? But, yes, anyone there will aid with it.”

She seemed lost in thought then, but wasn’t throwing herself to the ground to kick her feet and cry, so Anders decided she was up to the task.

Chapter ten

“No.” Anders didn’t glare at the whining princesses in front of him. It was a coalition of forces, from two different lands, suggesting that they were working too hard. Desiring to stop and rest for a day, instead of doing their work, fixing the roads.

They were standing around him, as he brought in several elk that had been taken from a herd that had wandered too close to the road. They were floating behind him, the huge things making him breathe heavily, as he was blocked from taking them to the makeshift camp site they had for the night. Still, he forced a smile, even if he didn’t feel like doing it, in the moment.

Javina, a bit indelicately, grabbed her own behind, and whimpered.

“But... I’m not used to sitting on a horse like this. I thought I’d be fine. I just...” She wasn’t throwing a fit over it, just seeming pitiful. Salina and even Lissa were about to lead a collapse into a full screaming match, insisting on their privileges, it seemed. It was enough that Depak and Hoatha both walked over, as did Prince Erold.

Anders simply rolled his eyes.

“You, all of you, know healing magics for pain, swelling and inflammation. Use them. Part of taking a trip like this is so that you can learn to push yourselves, when it isn’t easy or simple to do. Ideally, doing that without complaint? No one is comfortable here. Everyone hurts, and is uneasy, riding toward battle. It isn’t that I don’t care about your pain, it’s simply that you, all of you, don’t have to have that going on, if you decide not to. That, remembering to use your powers, is the hardest part of gaining such skills, for many.”

To her credit, Lissa made a small choked sound and started to mutter, under her breath, making some covert hand gestures at her own delicate places. After a mere few lines, she sighed.

Seeing this had Mathia doing it herself, then the others following suit. Salina glared at Anders, seeming honestly annoyed with him.

“You, are not being kind to me, Prince Anders! I’m a guest here in your land and you’re acting as if I’m your slave.” She hardened as Depak moved up next to her, doing his own bit of disapproving, directed toward her location, but modified her words, a small fraction. “You’re at least treating me like a mere student!”

She was doing her yelling in Scara, which had many people looking at her. Most not understanding why one of the mages was suddenly speaking so harshly. Anders simply nodded in her direction.

“This is a goods caravan. If you wish to turn back, you may do so, of course. My purpose isn’t to abuse you in this. I can harden the road myself, if need be.” Faster than the others were doing it, if with more personal work on his part.

The Princess in question stomped, like a child not getting the desired treat, and stormed off, as if she were the wronged party. Anders kind of hoped she was going to go back. They could send the others as well, along with some guards.

The men with him were, at least, willing to hold their own council, in their misery. Depak Sona glared at her, as she walked away, her red tunic and trousers glinting a bit in the gray light coming through the trees. There was a soft wind, which was a bit chilly, though no one was complaining about that, so far. It was enough that Anders was wearing chain mail, with a yellow and red gambeson underneath. That, the padded linen armor was heavy enough to keep him warm.

Several of the others were doing the same thing, including Javina, who made a face at the scene.

“This... I know that I need to do better. Forgive me. I’m not strong, I guess.” She hadn’t used magic to fix her pain, as of yet, and Anders wasn’t going to tell her to do it.

Her younger sister waved at her however.

“You have the magic for this, don’t you?” The tone was a bit bossy and short, but other than having her sneered at a bit, didn’t start a battle.

Just a long stream of spells, which did have Princess Javina sighing, when it was done.

“This is... I thought it might be a little hard, but travel has always been different for me. I’d thought being on the ship was a true trial, and then riding in the back of a wagon. This, sitting on a horse, this is what it’s like for most people, isn’t it?”

Depak laughed then. It was forced, loud, and he threw his bald head back. Hoatha simply smiled and looked away.

Even Erold rolled his eyes a bit and turned slightly, to hide his rude reaction.

The elder magician, Depak, waved at their own line of wagons, which were working to the side of the road, so that people could pass if they needed to.

“No? This is a wealthy caravan, rich with animals to do the work and good wagons, commissioned by powerful individuals. Most people, in all lands, walk, if they wish to travel long distances. They do not sit upon a fine horse, and most never even see carriages, much less use them. So, this, what you and your sisters are complaining about, it isn’t some vast hardship. It is simply not what you have grown used to in life.”

There was a sigh from Javina, but also a slow nod.

“Sorry then, Prince Anders. We should set up for the night? I could... Make a small house for us? To the side? With good beds...” She seemed desperate on the matter, but it wasn’t truly a problem.

It was important to practice, after all. Even making soft beds counted for that. There was no grand virtue to sleeping on the dirt, after all.

Anders shrugged.

“Spread them out. Keep them very small, so we can take them down in the morning, without damaging the woods. Each of us should make something, for ourselves. I’d also like one for the caravan leader. Who’s going to do that?”

Daren raised his hand a bit, wisely standing back, away from the yelling women.

“I can see to that, Anders. We also need to collect water and wood for a fire. How are we cooking those elk?”

He grinned, since it had been a good find, that herd, and having four large animals on the first day would help them stretch their stores. He’d broken down and simply hired six full wagons, which were directly behind the ten being sent to the front with food treats and wine, by Count Verit. Anders had asked for something like that, but hadn’t figured the man would spend that much on it.

They didn’t have any poor camp followers to feed on the trip, either, meaning that everyone else there was a professional traveler and caravanner. Anders even recognized some of them, from his last trip to the front.

“We need to butcher these. I could use some help with that, if anyone knows how to do it? We’ll share the meat out. Everyone gets to cook for themselves, though. We can use a tarp for that?”

He had some small idea as to how to do that, butcher an animal, but the truth was he lacked high level skill in that area. No one with him stepped forward and claimed that sort of thing, either. Everyone stood there for a moment, until Javina, rallying a bit, called out.

“We could use some help butchering these animals?” Her voice was loud and she spoke in Istlan, which had several men and women slowly coming toward them, seeming scared. That was just their fear of magic, of course.

Anders waved to the six people.

“Hello! I’m Andy. I can catch animals, but the truth is I’m not great at butchering them, so any aid we can get that way will help. We’re going to share the meat with everyone, so pass the word on that? It’s free.”

One of the men, who was already unshaved and probably in need of a bath, grunted.

“You just took them? From the King’s woods? That’s a hanging offense.”

Anders nodded, since that was correct, normally.

“King Mathias has given me specific license to hunt here, though. That means we can have a bit extra, as we travel.” He smiled and the man looked around, a bit shiftily, at first.

“Aye? That... Sounds unlikely, don’t it? Still, they’re already dead and if we part them fast, we can bury the bones, so no one is the wiser. You lot the magic types we have along? I noticed the road isn’t knee deep muck. We made twenty miles today, when I expected us to be stopped as soon as the metaled road ran out. That you?” The man waved at the still floating animals, swallowing as if nervous, but not taking his question back.

So, Anders made a point of seeming as normal about that as possible.

“Right. Actually, several of the others did that part for us. They’re students, learning the hardships of real work, and some others who are off to the front, to support the troops there. Don’t be shy about making magical requests of them. Any of them. They’re here to work, after all.”

The man made a half-choked sound, but guffawed and slapped his right leg with his hand.

“Sure, and that won’t have us turned to frogs or whatnot? Let’s get to that butchering? You knew to bleed em, so that’s good. This is a lot of meat. You really passing that out, for free?”

Nodding, Anders started to move, as the others who had come actually walked along with them. Jeld grabbed a tarp, a large waterproof and laid it on the ground, then took off, probably to get wood, and water, along with Daren. Prince Erold had to get the ladies with them to do that part, since they had no clue as to how it was supposed to be done.

Hoatha moved in with the butchers, and started to handle one of the animals on his own, using a hooked knife that was on his belt. As they did that, Anders trying to help two women with one of the bigger beasts, and largely getting in the way, people started to talk. As if they were friends already.

The woman next to him, who smelled of sweat and had lanky brown hair, lines on her face and who was only in her second decade, not being too much older than Daren was, smiled at him.

“If we’re going to have good roads, we won’t take too long to get to the front. This is going to last, you think? The new road? Does it go away as we pass?”

Trying to take the skin off, through his own effort, a sharp knife running up smoothly, he nodded.

“This will probably last some decades, if not longer. Even today we were slowed by the wagons, not by the lack of people to do the magics. We can also fix wagons, if they break, faster than we might otherwise, so the biggest issue will be animals needing to be cared for. Speaking of which, I should call in some fodder for them. After we do this, though.”

His new road friend spoke again, smiling. She had all her own teeth still, it seemed.

“That’s useful then. All this magic is frightening, but useful, all the same. Back in Losly, where I come from, we had a woman who could grow trees into pretty much anything she wanted. Houses, wagons, even chairs and tables. Not a popular woman. Mean, since no one was that kind to her. Can you do that kind of thing, you think?”

Already separating the joints, Hoatha nodded.

“He can. Probably not in exactly the same way, but the basic idea isn’t a bad one. I heard that you here in Istlan have recently started to accept magic as being normal and even helpful? What was it your King said, Anders? That magic is no more than a tool, like what a blacksmith might use, to shape metal?”

They were lying, since the King hadn’t said that at all, at least that Anders knew about, but he nodded as he worked.

“Right. It’s moving across the land and people are growing more used to such things. We aren’t weak that way any longer and a lot of people are moving to learn various types of magic now.” He grinned at the women, both of whom clearly knew when they were being sold a bill of goods.

So he grinned.

“Which is a good thing to spread around, if it comes up in conversation?”

The first man, who seemed a bit gruff, made a disgruntled noise and glared at Anders a bit.

“I heard there was an attack on the King last night? No one knows what it was, except that some foreign magician battled it back. You fold, some of you, came from the castle, didn’t you? Do you know of that, or is it just talk? No one said the King was hurt or dead.”

Hoatha, moving faster than the rest of them, while also doing as good or better of a job, glanced up at the man and shrugged.

“It was a man of Yanse, ridden by a slough. A dark being of magic. He went for Anders here though, not your King Mathias. Depak, the bald dark-skinned man over there? He and some of the students bound the thing in a pot, so it won’t be a problem again. The Yansian lives, but is blind. Captured by the guard in the castle.”

The gruff, unshaved, man looked hard at Anders, then.

“Why would he go for you, in particular?”

“I don’t honestly know. Probably just to prevent us from traveling today, really. There was a stone golem created, but it wasn’t that fast, so I ran back and forth, keeping it busy, while Master Depak did the real work of capturing the thing. I need to learn to do that, myself. I think the real point is that the King wasn’t even targeted by Yanse, this time. Just me, some castle boy, so it wasn’t as serious as all that. He’d tried to stab me first. Duke Cohen. At least that was the name he’d given. He was taken in as a kindness, and then betrayed us, after taking an oath to the King and kingdom here.”

They spoke then, as they worked, with Daren coming back, a night’s worth of wood floating behind him, covering several different topics. If the men and women there minded the magic, they didn’t complain about it.

Unlike the princesses, who managed to dislike his cooking, got grumpy about carrying buckets of water, even when the Great One of Barquea was doing that himself to set a good example for them. Then they managed to be most embarrassing, carrying on, even after darkness had fallen. It made the whole night unpleasant, since at least one of them, possibly more, kept summoning water into his tiny hut. It was annoying enough that after the third time he simply slept outside, under the stars. That meant he was up before true light hit.

That started a constant barrage of magical pranks, mainly targeting him. He knew who was doing it, since it was a combination of Salina, Javina and Mathia. At least the younger two weren’t actually angry when they did it, just trying to be cute and playful. His temper still frayed, as the days passed and on the tenth day he’d had just about enough. He nearly lashed out, at least with words and had, more than once, contemplated revenge.

Salina was strong in magic, but Anders was still better at it and was willing to kill, if the need arose. Not that her naughty annoyances deserved that level of response. He knew that. On some level. Still, he waved the magic group over, smiling.

“This is the last day, for the ladies.” Dreading the words, he looked at Salina. It was hard enough that she went wide eyed at the move. Possibly recalling that when they’d practiced combat magics together, she always managed to lose. Almost instantly.

Daren also tended to beat her, rather handily, in fact. She was strong, but one on one fights were often about more than that.

“Princess Salina... You’ll be riding to the front with us. That means your jests will have to stop. From this point on we all have assume that any strange magics we can’t instantly identify is an attack. All of us must be prepared to fight, constantly, now.” He felt like making a more direct accusation, because her tricks hadn’t been meant well at all, but instead of forcing her to give a false apology that she didn’t mean, he got ready to stop her from throwing a fit. Using guilt, if it was needed.

Instead, Depak did it for them.

“Indeed, Princess Salina... While humorous, your other activities won’t work for us now. Also, no more carrying on. Things are rather more serious, from this point forward. Understood?” The tone wasn’t even scolding or dark. Just bland.

As if everyone simply accepted that her attacks on him had been about flirting or being interesting. Which, even in his own annoyance, he could see that was part of her intent. Not the flirting, so much, but that, to her, he was practically a brother, or perhaps cousin. A person to lightly torment, as long as they didn’t actually become violent.

Now he simply nodded in her direction, doing his best not to hate her, just a bit. It mainly worked, if only through an act of will.

Her voice was, suddenly, a bit hesitant.

“I... Didn’t think I was actually going to the front. That’s just a thing Anders was saying, to make me work harder. Why would you take me with you?”

That was true, of course, but Hoatha went slightly wide eyed. They were all speaking in Istlan, which meant that he did the same. Without notable accent.

“Why would that be needed? You have been put forward as the new Great One of Barquea. A thing that wasn’t even a title until you came along. I’m certain that you’ll meet that challenge. Still, pranks against people going to war won’t be welcome. Thankfully. I was afraid for a few days that you were going to be turned bright yellow or some such.”

Anders nodded before she could claim that wasn’t possible.

“Salites nisk wol, endri fen ot...”

He didn’t have to point at her, having used his secret name for Salina. She turned a rather lovely, bright shade of yellow, with a pattern of small green and red flowers, all over her skin.

Looking at her arms, the Princess, finally, smiled.

“So, being the target of such things really is bothersome, is that your point, Prince Anders?”

There were at least twenty people watching, some having gone wide eyed when he’d caused her to turn colors in a nicely patterned fashion. Again, he simply bowed, as Erold and Daren both tried to hide their smiles. Depak simply glared at him.

“I’d just suggested that the time for such things was done?”

That required a second bow.

“Of course, Great One. Fen.” He waved at her when he spoke the release word, allowing her to change back to her normal, lovely, appearance.

Then Anders clapped his hands.

“That was the last such thing, until the end of the war. Agreed, Salina? Everyone?” There were nods then, which, he had to allow, should be enough to stop the activities.

Then he got back to work.

“Princess Lissa, please keep them on task and see that Master Tolan, and as she will, Queen Maura, keep up with their studies? Fenris Gull, as well. From this point onward, I want at least one person on look out, using wizardry, at all times. I’ll take the first watch. Search for everything. Horses in the area, men on foot, any sense of magic or ill intent. Even extra fires that seem untended. We’ll change every two hours for that. Draw lots to see who’s going to be woken up and when. No one shirks their duty.”

That went over about as well as he would have thought it might. He hated being woken up to work as well, and if you were doing wizardry in the dark, you pretty much had to stand up to do it, or you would fall asleep. Smiling he mentioned that part of things.

“We need to do that on our feet. That way when you fall asleep, the tipping over will warn you of that change of state. I’m not joking. Even if you stand next to your bedroll or hut, outside. It’s a pain, but we either take things seriously now, or people die for the lack.”

There was a smile, from Depak, who brushed at his mustache with his right hand. It was short and well-trimmed, but still solidly there.

“Agreed, Master Anders. Those traveling forward from this point need to prepare for the hardships of true war. Now, we should collect fuel for the fire and perhaps some greens?”

That got a nod, having been the habit of the last few days. Each night one person was selected to summon things to them, for the meal. Bitters and fresh fruits, if possible. It hadn’t been very much on the last score, since, naturally, it was too early in the year for anything to be ripe. Even the bee hives were far from full of honey. It was better to leave all of that kind of thing for the ones doing the work, the bees, than not, given that factor.

Still, they had fresh leaves of various sorts and some young cabot root, which was starchy, but not that hard to eat. As he cooked, Anders tried to seek out information about the world around them. The knights with them were uneasy, but he wasn’t finding any attacks incoming. Which didn’t mean they weren’t. He’d missed that kind of thing before, after all. Clever tricks could, at times, hide one from wizard skills.

Anders also ran a physical search of the area, before they lost the last of the light. He was joined by Squire Fain, who looked nearly haunted, as they walked in a large circle.

The other boy took a deep breath.

“I dread going back to the war. To have to kill again.”

Anders simply nodded, not speaking for a long while. When he finally did, there was a weight to his own words that matched the tone of the Squire.

“I know. Both that you don’t wish that and that I don’t wish to, either. Except, of course, that I truly do, which no doubts mean I’m either a fool or a monster.” He grinned then. “Though, a person did mention to me once that the term monster was generally held back for those who ate those they killed. I think we’re safe that way, at least?”

The words got a smile at least, from the taller boy. He was nearly a head taller than Anders was, still, even if he’d been growing. Both had, so they were evenly matched that way, for the moment.

“Your mother said that? Or, was it perhaps one of the southern magicians?”

Anders shrugged.

“Truly? It was an old pirate, on a ship that had been taken in battle. Even he, a man who had seen dozens of battles or more, had agreed that going to war was a foolish thing. Also, at times, a needed one. I have no doubt that both of us will do our duty. Well, too. Even the former servants with us will.” That wasn’t a thing he was totally certain of, on Jeld’s part. Daren would stand fast in the face of an army, even if his own death came for him. He’d gotten close enough to that before to show his mettle, after all.

The other man was less certain. Acting like he wasn’t brave might make that happen though, so Anders was willing to pretend hard for his sake.

Fain was in a situation much like himself, of course. Anders was seeking information from the world, so picked up things about the man next to him, at the same time.

“Oh? So you don’t think that I’m a coward, for not feeling easy about returning to the front lines? It has been hinted at, by some others.” He glowered then, as if he’d taken true offense at the idea.

“Not even in the slightest. Indeed, you’re braver than many a fighting man. Your fear, if we call it that, is only that you might enjoy death too much. Which, away in a keep or castle in time of peace, is a very good concern. Now... Here, going to war, put that thought away. Simply allow yourself to be good at your chosen task and don’t bother yourself with concern for the enemy. We can’t survive, in our hearts, if we do too much of that.”

He wasn’t certain his words would make sense, until a nod came.

“I know. When I dream of battle, I feel the thrill of it. The blood lust that happened on the field of battle, in the last campaign. Everyone else I’ve spoken to of that failed to understand. Isn’t that odd?”

He shook his head then, scanning the forest for any sign of activity which didn’t belong. Nothing was there. Not even the stirring of birds in the trees.

“No? You spoke to good people, with pure hearts, who know, secretly, that they would be at risk of failure in their nerve, if they were in the same place. They have no place for the idea that others don’t feel like they do. So... Don’t worry over it? You are simply one of those built for war. When you return home, you will have to fight to be a good person again, but now? Simply free your heart and try not to be cruel beyond measure.”

He was, naturally, speaking to himself, perhaps more than the boy next to him. The man, by all measures of worth and value. The Squire had killed five to seven in battle, man to man, already. Anders had killed so many more that he refused to truly try to count them. Tens of thousands and even saying that was a lie, meant to make him seem less like a fiend. A dark tally he didn’t at all doubt he was going to be increasing, shortly.

So, naturally, he spoke words to Fain that he needed to hear, himself. There was a knock on the arm then, as Fain walked away, keeping to his rounds. Anders simply needed to go and make a small hut, raising it with magic, then pull his newest bow, one not made by himself at all, just grabbed from the bowyers. He still did that every day he couldn’t fire it. Three hundred times. This one was a man’s war bow, but the lightest kind used in real battle.

It took a while for him to do all of that, and when he laid down for the night, he wasn’t hit with globes of water falling on him, or flashes of light going off every few hours, to wake him. Instead, it was, simply, a normal night. Finally.

Before dawn he checked the oxen, his six wagons and all the horses. One of them, a horse being ridden by one of the knights, needed its shoe fixed. He took care of that, carefully, still nearly being kicked in the head by the mighty beast. Then he ran his mind out, making certain first that no attack would come soon and then to ensure the wagons were all sturdy and ready for the day. He actually had to go to the back of the line and do more healing work, as well as wagon repair, before they left, then ride Brownie to the front, after waving goodbye to most of the girls who had traveled with them.

Then, for the entire length of the day, he cleared the way of water, on his own, and improved the road, hardening it, as he rode, at the very front of the line. The Caravan Master wasn’t that happy about the idea, since that was his place, normally but he did mention enjoying the better roads.

When they stopped for the night, when he was planning to go and get some food in, he found that Daren had already done it. Also, the man had made a small house for him. One nicer than the little things they’d been making and destroying each day. Technically it wasn’t just for him, since they all shared it. Then, in the morning, before they left, Salina was tasked, by him, to place some carvings and decorations on it, and make it brightly colored.

Then, not being asked, she moved to the front of the line and did her part, taking the water from the road and making it drivable. A thing that clearly wasn’t fun for her. It hadn’t been for him, either, so Anders merely watched her work and kept his mind out for attacks.

Nothing came, thankfully.

On the day after that, Daren suffered a turn doing the same thing, barely making it. Meaning Jeld was the one at the front of the line when they got to the military encampment.

Anders headed that way, as the road was hardened, right up to the gate of the camp. The men there went wide eyed, but didn’t seem upset to see them.

Before he could speak, Depak and Hoatha both rode up, with the younger seeming, much older fellow smiling.

“Now you and I will rebuild this into a proper camp, Son?”

Depak nodded.

“I do think that is the plan, Father. Perhaps we should find out what the General here would like first?”

That being General Coelder, Anders thought. It was harder than it seemed like it should be, standing back and doing nothing, as a fabulous city grew around them out of the very earth they stood upon. Given who was doing the work, it didn’t take long at all, of course.

Chapter eleven

When the General met with them, the next morning, the man seemed a bit bemused, instead of angered at the sudden changes that had taken place the day before. The men weren’t in tents any longer, having grand, well decorated, barracks and the man himself had a small palace to stay in. So did his top five captains, and two majors.

Depak and Hoatha did the work on that, while Anders worked out a cistern and sanitation system, to prevent illness. The others, including Prince Erold put up a vast wall, with a lot of space left inside of it for marching, weapons practice and other tasks that soldiers seemed to be required to perform.

The General, seeming even more gray and thin than he had been seven months prior, simply looked around, and then sighed.

“This is a true wonder. An amazing thing, to be certain.” His face went blank then and there was a head shake. “We’re down to half the men we need to fight, after the heavy losses before winter. We nearly lost the entire border when things collapsed here. The Yansians have a hundred thousand men ready to march on us at any moment. It is good to see you Master Brolly, but I don’t know if even you can make up the difference here. We’re simply outnumbered and are going to be, until mid-summer. I fear that the battles won’t wait until then.”

Anders could see that as a problem, but cleared his throat.

“Let me introduce these people to you, General Coelder?”

The man nodded, and smiled.

“Forgive my lack of manners, of course. I would love to meet your friends, Master Brolly.”

He waved then, his hand open and face set.

“This is Prince Erold, of course. You’ve met. Next to him is Prince Daren Willet. He’s a Prince of Barquea, having earned that title through great works of magic. That isn’t an easy thing to do. This lady is Princess Salina, also of Barquea. Born to that title, but she’s being trained to be their next Great One. That is basically their head war mage, among other things. She’s only a trainee, of course, but not to be ignored, as to her powers.”

He waved at Depak then, and grinned.

“This is the Barquean Great One. Depak Eta, and his father, Hoatha Eta. That... Hoatha Eta is one of the greatest users of magic to have ever lived. Last, we have Jeld. Palace servant and of course, one of the best magicians and wizards here on the front. The current plan is to hold Depak Sona and Hoatha Sona back, so that the rest of us have something to do. They’ll see to roads for us and light healing work? The rest of us will move forward, with what troops you have and...” He sighed then.

The General looked tired, but rallied a bit.

“You brought me a troop of war mages? Three of them?”

His gaze ignored Prince Erold. He also glanced away from Salina, but ducked his head, politely.

“Five of them. Each as good or better than I was, last we met. Untested in battle, using magic, though. Prince Erold is a veteran. Prince Daren guarded me from armies, on the southern continent. So, clearly, we should sit back and have Jeld and Princess Salina do the hard work for us. It won’t be fair, otherwise.”

He was jesting, but the General went wide eyed, seeming suddenly well pleased.

“Very, very good then! Thank you all for coming to our aid. I had heard we had friends in Barquea, but I didn’t think to see them come all the way out here. I am humbled by your attendance. Thank you. All of you. When will you be ready to travel, do you think?”

It was early in the day still, being in the cool of the morning.

“We can leave inside an hour or two? Faster if you need us to. It would be polite of us to go to the Yansians to remove their armies, I have to think. It’s important for them to realize that Istlan isn’t a land to trifle with.”

The thin man, straight, if worn down, looked around, then yelled.

“Prepare to march! Full kit. Ready to move! All officers to the command...” He grinned then. “To the command palace!”

People started to run around, excitement filling the air. Dread as well, but so far that wasn’t too heavy in the steps of those he could see.

It took longer to get them around than it did for Daren and Jeld to ready the horses. The rest of them were invited inside, to see the plans being made and to aid in them, if possible.

There was a large map, with metal pieces placed on it, to show different types of troops. There was a large army along the main road, poised to march on them, it seemed. Then, past that, there were smaller groups, near holds and keeps of various sorts.

In the distance, some ten days hard march away, was a castle. Where the King of Yanse lived.

The General pointed at the closest group.

“A hundred thousand men, and women. They seem to have three or four magic users of note and about two dozen who do smaller things for them. They outnumber us in that way. Still, they haven’t shown the powers of a Master Brolly, so far. None of them have. Their best is an illusionist of great talent and a necromancer, who can bring the fallen to life again, to battle without ceasing. Thankfully not that many at one time. A few dozen.”

Anders dropped into a trance, and pointed at the map. The other side’s main forces weren’t that far away, so he was able to find them, in the distance.

“They’re in camp, at the moment. They have... Several wizards. Five who can use spells to start small fires. A woman who can raise storms, which is of real note. Not on the battlefield, of course, since anything they do there would also hit their own people.”

He searched for a long while, with Hoatha speaking to him. Eventually he realized that the man was speaking to him in a loud voice, which meant that he had to come to the surface of his mind to see what was going on.

“We’re done now, Anders!” He was smiling, even if the others looked concerned.

“Did I say anything useful?”

There was pointing then, from the General, at the map.

“You did. We have the name of their commander, knowledge of what types of forces they can bring to bear and the knowledge that they currently aren’t ready to march, expecting to wait another ten days, for the roads to improve in their area. This isn’t the bad time of year for that, but march a thousand men on a thawing road and you will end up with ankle deep muck. We can do better than that?”

Depak nodded, seeming serious.

“We can travel at about three or four miles per hour, without hardship, permanently improving the path in front of us. You said that we have twenty thousand healthy men, at present?”

Anders thought for a moment, and then recalled some of the most ancient stories he had in his head.

“If we...” He tightened his face then and ducked his head, in shame. “We can simply find them, and hit them with explosive arrows and other tricks, before they can mass to do real damage? It will be... Murder, comes to mind. We don’t have the ability to politely ask our enemies to give over, unfortunately. They also came rather well presented, with a large army.”

Anders half expected everyone in the room to sneer at him. Only half of them did, which was refreshing to see. Some of the Captains glared at him, but General Coelder simply nodded.

“I agree that not giving them a true chance to win is the better option. If we do that, we had best win, of course. The victors will choose how the tale is retold. Pretending that we aren’t about to lose here, without such tricks, is foolish vanity.”

One of the Army men spat on the floor, which had the General glaring.

“You will order us to be cowards, who attack in the night?”

Anders shook his head, so that the man would turn his ire on him, where it belonged.

“Not at all. I will be the coward, alone. You will face what remains of their forces in the light of day. There will be blood and battle enough to leave us all feeling that we did our parts, I’m certain.”

The man, who wasn’t ancient, lurched across the room, trying to strike Anders. It was unexpected, but instead of making him explode, which was the first impulse, a palm came up, with energy applied to it, pushing the man both back and down, after stumbling halfway across the room.

“Calm now, Captain. Save the fight for the enemy.”

The man turned and started yelling, losing his composure.

“You are a craven madman, who skulks in the night! There will be tales of you, if you do this thing! Dark things will be spoken of you, in whispers!”

Depak started muttering, and Daren was holding his fist, held out, with power behind the move, ready to kill. Jeld went wide eyed, but matched the same move, seeing it done.

Hoatha laughed. It was pleasant sounding and out of place.

“Don’t oversell what can be done on a march like this, Captain. Anders is suggesting a thing that will work, but odds are they will be standing in neat, clean lines, ready to meet us when we arrive. Can we use the terrain to our advantage, General?”

For some reason, that, the idea that they’d be meeting the larger force head on, got the hot head to calm down. Anders didn’t stare at him, but did look inside of him, in case he had a mass inside his brain. It fit what he was doing, as far as sudden violence went. That wasn’t the issue.

No, the man was simply on several powerful herbs, being compelled to do such things. It made him unstable and rather foolish, but was no worse than being too drunk to lead, which several of the others there were hiding from the room.

Even Jeld had, clearly, partaken recently. Given it wasn’t even mid-morning yet, that seemed a bit early. Some did that kind of thing so that they’d have safe water to drink, but Jeld could summon that from the air, if he desired. Still, if he needed to brace himself before battle, Anders wasn’t going to condemn the man for it. A clear head would aid him more, once the fighting started, but not running away in fear was required for those off to the war. If his courage had to come from a bottle, then so be it. The man was, rather, being forced to be there, after all.

So Anders let the fact that he was just attacked go, as if he hadn’t noticed it.

Instead, they formed plans, with others being pointed out, in case the first ones didn’t work. Then they moved out, their horses having been tied to the posts in front of the Command Hut. Anders was on Brownie, with Princess Salina riding Chestnut. That had been the way of things since the others had left, since the war horses had been chosen to go all the way to the front, and the others, mainly, sent back.

By riding straight through, they would get to the enemy forces just in time for a proper army to set up for the night. They would, no doubt, be expected to bed down, make fires and wait for first light to sneak up on the enemy. Which was natural enough, since men didn’t see well in the dark.

Except that all of them there could make that kind of thing. Enough for the whole battlefield, in fact. Technically, the other side could do that as well, since they had Illian Darca with them. It would be an illusion, but an illusion of the sun still cast a bright light. Which was a thing, once considered, that made sense to him to work with.

They rode in the middle of the marching forces, for protection, as well as because that was where the General was. Not in the back like a coward, but not in the front, open to attack before the fight even started.

“Hoatha? Do you think you can make a large light for us? An illusion of the sun, say?”

The man looked at him suddenly, and nodded.

“I can do that. More, I can make an illusion of the sun that your men will see, and the other side won’t. Leaving them blind.”

They spoke in Scara, so he nudged Brownie toward the General, and cleared his throat.

“Hoatha has agreed to make a light for us, when we arrive? A vison of the sun, that we will see and the other side won’t.” Again, he looked around, half expecting the hot-headed Captain to come for him. He was in the front, leading them in, well away from Anders.

The General looked at him, blankly, for a while.

“Very good. Set that in motion for us, please, Master Brolly? Then ready those attacks you mentioned? That was a bit of an unfortunate event, with Captain Neil, earlier. What... Do you have planned for him? A duel, after the battle?” The man seemed to be suggesting against that, instead of trying to give him ideas.

Then, the last time they’d met, nearly, Anders had killed four men, for raping an enemy soldier. In a trial by combat, suggested by the General himself. It had been meant as an assassination attempt, but was also a mistake. The man wasn’t planning to make the same one again.

“Over that? No. The man was merely discussing things, if passionately. We don’t have to take it as more than that. He took some substances that give energy, but that also make one rather harsh and violent. He won’t be like that, normally.”

That information was, it seemed, welcome enough.

“Ah? That did seem a bit out of place for the fellow. It isn’t spoken of much, but many do things like that before battle. So, you didn’t take offense? That’s enlightened of you, Master Brolly. Things can grow tense, in such situations. Tempers flare. It’s best not to make more of this than is needed.”

It was a good bit of advice. One that he’d had his own issues with, in the past.

He moved back, to speak to the others with him, as they rode. Assigning tasks and working out what they needed to do. He grew a bit anxious, as they came closer to the enemy. He started to use wizardry about then, as an excuse to drop into a trance. One that was deep, without leaving him insensible, since it was a poor idea to go into a fight without being aware of what was happening.

“They’re aware that we are riding toward them. Their leader, General Hogarth, seems to think that we will be making camp in the field we passed about an hour back. His wizards aren’t up on the fact that we’re still moving. We’re about three miles away from the location they’ll be setting up in.”

That bit, learning where they were going to be, was using prognostication. It wasn’t the only place they could do that, but being only about an hour away, in time, that likely wouldn’t be changing. Anders didn’t really look past that.

Foretelling the future was always less accurate than going over what was happening in the moment.

“The weather is going to stay dry, for the night. The clouds will stay. The goal will be for their weather witch to make a rain storm, except that she only controls the winds, which will harm them, since they’re planning to take the high ground. Normally that would be against us, but we won’t let them get set.”

When he looked around, a few moments later, using his eyes again, the General had moved in alongside of him.

Anders looked at the man, feeling totally calm.

“They know we are coming, now. They don’t know where to go, yet. There’s screaming and commotion.”

They weren’t riding in the dark, having about four hours of light left.

The General called out, his voice loud.

“Ready to move left, into the field.”

There was nothing like that visible, but Anders found the off-shoot road to the right place. It meant walking across a small stream, but it was no more than a foot deep, which he mentioned, a bit dreamily.

“Everyone get your armor on.”

His people all had gambeson, chainmail and weapons of some sort, with them. He had twin long knives, but hadn’t put his mail on, yet. Prince Erold had, wisely, ridden out with his in place on his body. So had Daren. The rest of them had to scramble, while on horseback, to get dressed. Some of the men around them, marching along, made their own adjustments, when he called out. Probably understanding that he wasn’t in charge of them. Just a voice, saying something that seemed sensible.

Anders pulled his bow around, but left it unstrung. It was an Istlan war bow. He wasn’t stringing it while on the back of a horse. What he could do as he traveled, was make up twenty explosive arrows. They were different than the last time he used something similar, since the spells he placed weren’t nearly as strong, but were far more complex.

The goal was to not go unconscious after the first six arrows, this time. To make up for the lack of raw power being used, Anders was planning to channel what happened. The explosions should, if he did it correctly, throw all of the power along a hundred thin lines, all at head height on the common man. If it would work, he wasn’t totally certain. If it didn’t, then he was going to have to scramble, to use something simple, but more powerful.

This time his was going to be the hand on the bow, so if he collapsed, nothing was going to be fired from him. Daren had a bow out as well, as did Jeld. Erold and Salina didn’t, having other plans in place. The field was flat enough, on the bottom half, but the General, daringly, set the main battle line about fifty paces from the bottom of the hill. The enemy would be able to shoot their bows further, given where they were standing. No further than the Istlan bows would reach, of course. They were just better that way.

From where they were standing, their bowmen could start firing before the enemy forces could even get set in line. The hardship was going to be waiting for the other forces to arrange themselves enough to get the most out of their attacks. Anders wanted them to come to him, if at all possible, instead of chasing them across the countryside.

“We have enough space here. Jeld, Daren, can you stand on the flanks? Ready to fight, but also to prevent anyone from going around the edges. Prince Erold, Princess Salina, if you’d stand with the forces halfway through the middle, on each side? Stay out of the front rows and keep a shield prepared.” He turned then, still in the saddle, as they rode into the battlefield. “Hoatha, if you and Depak would stand in the back? Ready what spells you think we need. I don’t want either of you in the battle, if at all possible.”

He grinned then, not feeling his face move, being too deep for that kind of thing, still reading what the enemy was doing.

“Unless we start to lose. Then, of course, save us!”

Depak was grim, but managed a dry sounding cough.

“We’ll do that, I’m certain. Use caution. We’ll be back by the General.”

Everyone moved to their assigned locations. Anders readied communications spells for each of them, reviewing the special names he had for them. It would be hard to do, in the heat of battle, but was worth trying to have ready.

Anders placed himself in the middle of the massed soldiers, just behind the lines of regular soldiers, all holding pikes. He walked up on foot, but stopped to string his bow, right next to the man with a red patch on his shoulder, marking him as a sergeant. The man blinked at him, then nodded.

“You’re in the wrong place, aren’t you? The bow line is to the right.” He pointed, but wasn’t smirking or even being mean about it. Just letting Anders know where he figured he needed to be.

So, he smiled.

“I’m on magic for this. I’m in the right place.”

The man made a considering face and called out, softly.

“Hey, we have a wizard here. That’s new, isn’t it?”

The men around him laughed, at his expense, but Anders was so deep into a trance state that he didn’t bother to feel the derision. It was clear that, for some insane reason, they thought he was playing. It was a poor place to do that, but he looked youthful. He was young, honestly. Part of him, anyway.

He just stood there, waiting, the men not bothering him in particular. They chattered a bit, but were professional soldiers, so mainly kept it to what they thought the enemy was going to do. Anders simply started to call things off, before the other side moved their troops around. By the third time people were listening to him.

On the eighth accurately called troop movement of the other side, the man with the red patch next to him started to ask questions.

“When are they going to press the attack?”

“They... don’t know yet. Their General is currently scrambling. They’re planning to use illusion against us, in a few moments. That will... Look like a five headed beast? It isn’t real, but will be followed by the first horn. I don’t know what that means.” He hadn’t gotten that information, for some reason.

The other fellow patted him on the shoulder, his heavy glove studs clanking against his shining mail shirt.

“Prepare for battle. There’s magic about to be used on us? How certain are you of that?”

“Very. It’s harmless illusion... Honestly, I have something for that, in answer. At least I can, since I picked up that it’s coming like this. Can you let people know it’s about to happen? A bit of a show?”

Illian Darca was much better at illusion than he was, but Anders knew what he had planned, in the moment. That meant, by rushing a bit, he came up with a monster of their own.

The man next to him bellowed, nearly in his ear.

“Stand ready for illusion! Stand ready for harmless illusion!”

In the space between the forces, the five headed serpent came from the ground, growling and hissing, seeming as if it were truly alive. It even breathed and huffed steam from its mouth, as if fire were coming next.

Instead of a chant, Anders brought up his own illusion, then. A giant wolf, with white and gray wings, covered with detailed feathers, wearing a tabard over his back which showed him to be working directly for King Mathias. The great beast pelted in from the side, standing just as large as the other creature there. The men on both sides stilled, to look at what was being presented to them, in some awe. Then the wolf, slowing to a walk, started to speak. In Yansian, looking directly at their lines. As if hungry.

“Good soldiers of Yanse. This is the only warning we can give you this day. Run. It is your only hope. Flee! Death is about to rain down upon you. You cannot win this battle!” The wolf moved toward their lines, his voice growling and deep. Like thunder that spoke.

“Run now, and live!”

Then, it vanished. Slowly, Anders got a single arrow out, counted out a full minute and sighed.

“They had a chance.”

He was a bit shocked when the arrow, a normal one simply taken from the stores of such things, before magic had been placed on it, flew over the heads of the front line, hitting four full sections back. Then he felt a cold thrill when the explosion he had planned made a strange whistling noise. A high-pitched thing that didn’t seem to do much at all. Until the front line on the other side simply fell down. There was a circle of bodies going down, leaving a hole in the battle line of the enemy which was impressive to behold. He couldn’t tell why, at all, but when he loaded the next arrow, and aimed to the side, it happened again.

The center of their line was laying on the ground, not moving, in no more than a half minute. The entire Yansian army reeled then. A single blast came from their side, on a horn. Readying them for battle.

When two sounds of the horn came, telling them to fire arrows, each side of the other army was hit with decently loud explosions. Jeld and Daren made very real dents in the other line, on both sides, if not perfectly at the same time. In the middle a group of knights, no doubt brave men, tried to fill the gap that Anders had made. It meant riding over the bodies of the dead, to struggle into place, in a single thin expanse, which stretched for a good way. It was at least a hundred horses wide.

Anders tried another arrow. Again, it made a whistling sound. This time it was more dramatic, since the horses screamed and fell, dropping armored men to the ground. The circle of death was vast, but he wasn’t even breathing hard yet. Still, he paced himself, waiting for the knights who could, to stand up and try to run at them on foot.

Most of them didn’t make it to the pike line, since Prince Erold cast a line of energy, like lightning, from the side. It ran through the metal clad men and women, in lines of pure light. From his right, there was a sudden line of black that flew outward, toward the enemy line there. Where it touched, armored men went down. Screaming. Why that was, Anders didn’t understand. Only that the powerful move had been Princess Salina’s work.

To their credit, the Yansians didn’t just give up and flee. They fought, or at least moved forward, with only one in ten men making it to the lines, in places. There was a real battle going on, but at the same time, the other side simply kept dying. Then, rather cleverly, a group of fallen men rose from the ground, after a young fellow ran out onto the field and touched each of them. They didn’t go down to his next arrow at all.

“The returned dead. Let me...”

He thought for a moment, then cast his mind out, and instead of killing the necromancer, he attempted to work out how to stop the man’s spell. This wasn’t blood magic, and didn’t have a charm. Instead, the boy was willing them to live, using his own personal energy, chanting constantly.

Anders, gasping this time, started a spell of his own.

“Hom fla ere ot ere, fen ot...” He pointed using his mind, to lift the man into the air, floating him over the heads of the Istlan forces, setting him down next to himself, breathing hard.

“Sergeant, can you render him insensible?”

That was done, suddenly, with a heavy leather gloved hand. The man, who had golden hair and a short, well-trimmed beard, fell to the Earth with a thud. When that took place, the shambling dead fell as well.

“Can he be taken to... the General? Without touching the dead, he can’t raise them.” Anders was gasping, since causing a man to fly at that distance was incredibly hard work.

There was a bellow from the man next to him.

“Two to take the necromancer to the General! Don’t let him touch the dead!”

They had real fighting going on, so, barely catching his breath, Anders started to cause people to explode. Just for entertainment, he killed in other ways, using actual spells. Then, since the line to the right was being pressed harder than his position, which had gone nearly silent, he started to take the enemy from that side.

After four hours of battle, as dark fell, the sun came out. For their side. The enemy, even those standing directly next to them, fumbled and seemed to be almost blind. They tried to run, half their force heading up the hill, lacking discipline. Feeling horrible, Anders started to send arrows out again, killing and then, giving chase, to take even more lives. So many he didn’t even want to count them.

He had to scramble over bodies to do that. He wasn’t alone, since the entire battle line moved with him, nearly enough that they were giving chase.

“No quarter! No prisoners! Let none escape!”

That came from the back of the line, but was repeated, many times.

Anders simply moved ahead, and kept killing, until he was out of arrows. He didn’t feel good about himself, but he understood the idea. They were in a war, and they’d just taken out most of the opposing army. They might field another of the same size, in the summer, but each one who couldn’t regroup later, made their odds of winning quickly go up fantastically.

So, he kept going. Wishing he could stop to be sick. Not because he felt that way. He didn’t. No, because he should feel that way, and couldn’t. No one else did that sort of thing, and the men in yellow were cut down, unable to hide, because even off the field of battle, he saw everything as if the sun were up and it was noon.

While the desperate enemy couldn’t even see the Istlan forces coming for them, as they tried to hide.

Chapter twelve

Anders had to push himself to get back to the main body of the army. He’d fallen in with a group of foot soldiers who had kept hunting the enemy, well into the night. Even miles away from the battlefield the world stayed bright, looking as if there was a sun in the sky, even if it didn’t move at all. When they found the enemy, they killed them. Anders did a lot of that himself. Ending the matter quickly, as Farad Ibn Istel shook and moaned inside at the inhumanity of the actions.

They were the work of a true monster. Or could be, if Anders had felt hungry at all.

A few of the others tried to loot the dead, but they held to taking only coin and jewelry. They had to carry it all back, after all, and walking with six sets of full armor wasn’t going to work. For his part, Anders didn’t take anything from the dead, even if it was offered to him, many times.

They weren’t making camp at the battlefield, but rather in the clearing they’d been expected to stay over in. It had a small river near it, and was far enough from the enemy that none of them were going to double around and kill him in his sleep.

His whole body ached, after hours of fighting and running, chasing desperate soldiers, who only wanted to go home to their families. To the girl they’d married and what little ones they had on the way. Maybe to their parents, if they were young enough.

Instead, they were food for crows. Nothing came out to eat the dead yet, but he didn’t doubt that it would, as soon as daylight honestly fell.

When true dawn broke, Ganges’ spell faded. It was such a miraculous thing that his mind almost couldn’t make sense of it. The man had, apparently, given a specific source of light, that worked properly, to over twenty thousand people.

Anders knew he would have failed to do that with even a single person. Not that he didn’t get the idea. Ganges was so practiced at magic that things such as that, a complex spell that would be nearly impossible, was the kind of thing that he did standing at the back of an army.

Apparently without even breathing hard. At least that was the feeling, when he saw the man, after everything was suddenly dropped, the sun blinking once, and then showing again on the horizon. His old friend, looking as Farad recalled him as a young man, when he’d first left the hermitage, seemed to not even be tired. Even after a full night awake, doing incredible magics.

For his part, Anders could barely walk, by the time he was back at the temporary base. What he found there was, of course, very different than he’d bothered to think about.

Daren and Salina had set to healing people, along with Depak Sona. There were signs of hundreds having been aided, with remains of drying blood and people limping around still, milling in circles in some places. The number of dead on their side was small, however. He counted, going over it twice. Thirty-seven lie on the ground, unmoving.

Ten more were being aided still. The rest of their people were, for the most portion, simply tired from the battle. Not having anything else to do, he went to find General Coelder, being joined by Hoatha, who put a gentle hand on his shoulder, as if to sooth his soul.

A thing that wasn’t needed at all.

Much to Farad’s shame. To Anders’ as well. It was over the wrong thing, of course, as it always was, with the boy. He was upset, but not over the incredible numbers he’d slaughtered. No, he was ashamed that he didn’t feel like everyone else there did. Many of them, at least. It showed on his face as weariness, instead of tears of grief or rage. He was fine, more or less, with the fact that they’d won. Not elated by it, either. It was just another event to him.

The old man, his short hair white in the morning light, stood at a large rock, which was being used for the moment as a table. His gaze stretched out, over the men in the field, a soft smile on his lips as he looked into and then past, the tree line. Seeming shaken from thought, he focused on Anders, suddenly.

“Ah, Master Brolly. That went... Rather differently than I’d expected. Do you need anything?”

He nodded, even if he truly didn’t have anything he desired, except to drink some water and sit for a while. Possibly sleep.

“I can send a message to the King?”

The man lit up then, as if having been given a prize for all his hard work.

“Right! I’d forgotten you could do that. I’ll have something ready to go, in a few moments. Let me... I need to pen the message, so there’s no confusion.”

The man’s aide de camp arranged for pens and paper, as Anders simply settled by the large stone, his back to it, dozing for a moment, until a voice called to him. It was Ganges, which confused him, on waking. For a moment he was back in his cave, a place where he’d lived for over eighty years. What informed him of that not being true was that there was far too much light, meaning he was outdoors.

“Anders? It’s time for you to send a message?” The man had, wisely, not shaken him by the shoulder. Doing that would have had him fighting on waking, he didn’t doubt. A thing that, he realized, might well not have any effect on the ancient mage at all.

So he grinned, instead of acting too tired to move, even if he still felt that way.

“Very well. Let me...” Standing, attempting to, left him feeling ancient, but his young body did it, with an act of will. There was no pain, only a great weight. A thing slowing him more than he would have thought possible.

The message to the King was, of course, to go through Master Tolan, who wasn’t awake for the day, yet. Instead of waiting, Anders sent an annoying message first.

“Awaken, Master Tolan. Incoming report.” He spoke the words out loud, so that the General would understand why his spell had seemed so short. “It will repeat ten times. Then we need to wait a few moments, so that he can get to some paper and produce a light.” A thing the older man had learned to provide for himself, with no more than a short bit of muttering.

That portion of things had been interesting, since the man had thrown himself into learning the new skills being practiced with a will, once they were made available to him. It took him twice the effort that it did some, yet the man never complained and had kept up and even surpassed all but the best students, doing much of it on his own, from books and scraps of paper.

The need for extra effort was already fading, since that had mainly been about being set in his ways. As he released that, his ability to memorize new things sped back up again. As if he were much younger than his years.

Then, Anders was fairly certain that Old Tolan had already worked out how to reverse the flow of time for himself, and was, if at a measured pace, growing more youthful.

There was no definitive return message, the man understanding that Anders was waiting for him. He needed to use the chamber pot, but as soon as that was finished, Anders had the prepared message set into action.

“Fen.”

After a moment, the General spoke, sharing what was going out with his men.

“We’ve reported our victory to the King and await orders. For now, rest the men. We have extra food rations to spare?”

One of the men, a Major, nodded. He seemed tired as well, but his job had been leading, not directly fighting, through the night. It showed in how he was able to carry himself. He was upright, and not sitting, for instance.

“We have some treats even, sent by Count Verit. Wagons full of things, as a gift to the men. We could pass those out, and then use the wagons to share out the spoils? How are we splitting that?”

The older man shrugged.

“Any man with a confirmed kill gets the armor and weapons, any coins or other riches on the body. Any unknown or uncertain kill gets split, with the command section getting fifty percent, and the regulars a share of the remainder. Any idea how that’s going to fall out?”

A bloodshot eyed Captain, the hotheaded one, grunted.

“Ninety percent of that is going to the war mages, then. That wasn’t half as cowardly as I’d figured. Sorry there, Brolly.” He was a bit begrudging, but didn’t seem afraid or anything. Just as if he realized he’d been in the wrong, the day before.

Anders waved at him.

“Can we... Get a tally, and part that out, my bit, to the men?” He was, after all, wealthy enough, already.

The General smiled, hugely.

“I’ll wager we can! Then, in the morning, we will be on the march. Which direction we travel being up to the King. Any thoughts there, gentlemen?”

Groaning, he made himself speak, first.

“We... Should press on. Into Yanse. We need to finish this, before mid-summer, if possible. How far away is the first place we need to take? The keep of...”

There was a pause, as the old man looked at his map.

“Helmshold? We can be there in half a day’s time. Is there a way of using magics to breech the walls there faster than normal, do you believe?” He glanced at Hoatha, who simply smiled.

“There are. Even using no more than what was shown on the field, yesterday, we can take such a structure in, call it five hours? Less, perhaps, if the students are willing to work later, after having some rest?”

“What’s needed?”

That got an artless, almost lazy, shrug.

“A tunnel, through walls of wood and stone. You could simply tear the side open, of course, but by going more carefully, from an unexpected direction, you might save the dwelling, as well as personal effort.”

The words got a nod, even if he didn’t truly understand how to get that done. Making a tunnel required moving tons of material, at the very least. Rather than complain, or even ask for help with the puzzle, he simply tried to think through it.

“I’ll need to see the location. I can find it, using wizardry. Then I’ll need a way to shift things as little as possible. Explosions really would be the easiest way of doing that...”

The General nodded, but then waved in his direction.

“To your own discretion on that. My understanding is that this keep is mainly made of wood, if that makes a difference?”

It probably did.

“I’m going to lay down, for a moment, if I can? It’s too hard to think. I know, lazy of me, but...”

No one made his weakness into a thing to mock, simply waving him away. Several of the men there did that, too. Hoatha took part of his weight, having Anders lean against him, as if fearing he might fall down. That, being led somewhere, was the last thing he recalled, until sometime later, when his bladder and thirst forced him to wake again. It wasn’t dark out yet, but the day had clearly vanished, as he’d slumbered.

He was inside a dwelling, on a soft bed, that was rather comfortable. Still, he could see, since it was full daylight coming through the open window, off to the side. Instead of walking to the stream for water, he found his pack, which included a metal drinking cup, and filled it several times, draining it over and over, then moving outside to take care of his other business. Then he cleaned up, muttering a few familiar spells, which made the paste which had developed fly from his teeth and mouth, as well as the scum and dried sweat of fighting remove itself from his body.

Then, heading back inside the small dwelling, which had the rest of his people in it, he sat, cross legged, in what had to be considered the front room. There he sent his mind out into the world, recalling first the map on the stone, to find Helmshold keep. Preparing to create grand new magics, to find a way in.

Which wouldn’t be needed at all, he realized.

Not for this one. The keep had a major weakness, in that it didn’t have a well at all. It had, instead, a covered pond, that was fed by a slow stream which had a weak wooden wall above it. That was tied in place with ropes. Thick things, covered in tar, so they wouldn’t weather too quickly. Most of the wall was stronger, being of thick timbers. He still could have removed those, of course. Simply cutting them down, using a severing spell. A thing that he’d done before.

Arranging the words properly would be all that was needed for that, of course. After half an hour of searching, he opened his eyes, a plan already forming, as to how to get inside. Then, since no one else had woken, he went out looking for food. He had a bit with him, but there had been a mention of treats being shared. Dried fruits and candied nuts, mainly. No one looked at him as being too greedy when he pulled enough for all the mages. It was just in a pile, sitting on the ground. There was enough left, and it was clear that everyone knew to simply go up and take their share.

The lack of screaming at him over it probably meant that those watching figured his personal share was vast, of course. It wasn’t, he was just grabbing enough for seven people. That was dropped off in the front room, with his portion being eaten, since he hadn’t really had anything for over a day and had burned a lot of magic in that same time. A thing that had to be replaced, if he was going to keep going. There wasn’t anything to hunt or scavenge in the area, either, an army having been camped nearby, for weeks. There was, however, real food having been brought in, the wagon caravan having been pressed to enter Yanse, while he slept.

Meaning they’d started before the battle had, the day before. It showed a lot more trust in their relatively small force than he would have held, were it up to him. Still, it meant his personal wagons had come as well. Complete with drivers, and of course, a full load of food for them all. His people, at least.

To that end he made a large outdoor cooking station, out of earth and stone, raising it carefully, then moved to the woods to take what fuel he could find there. Seeing that, the army cooks simply set up, doing the same thing he was, and getting right to work, making a late meal for them all. It was mainly going to be hard bread and tangy cheese, but it was something other than the insects that were all that were left in the field they were in.

Anders made things from his own stores, which, while not fine fare, was better than what the Army was getting that night, by far. He even made extra, figuring that the General and some of his staff would realize that the mages were eating better than they were and wisely come sit by them for the meal, away from the main body of men, to reduce jealousy.

Not that they were going to complain, having gotten sweets already. Anders thawed some meat, a bit of what remained from their travels, and prepared that with a bit of dark sugar and some wine vinegar, as well as making soft flat bread, and using magic and more effort than he should have had to, managed to grab some early green apples, which he fried up in his large pot, to soften and sweeten them a bit. They were heavily spiced, and while still good, were sour, by nature.

Everyone came out to eat, well before dark, and as he’d figured, the command staff brought their plates over to where he set up, looking as if they were ready to beg for food.

A thing he didn’t make them do at all.

“I made some extra. Meat is going to be at a premium, for a while in these parts. The early apples are from about three miles off. I’ll work on getting other greens in, as we travel. Are we to move in the morning?”

Coelder grimaced.

“If we can have light, we could move in a few hours, and take the keep by surprise. I don’t know if that’s possible at all.” The man looked at his plate, and took a bite of the meat, first thing. “This is very good. Thank you, Master Brolly.”

“You’re welcome. Now, a light? For everyone... That should be possible. Oh, say, did we kill that necromancer I caught? That was before the no prisoners order went through. I have some extra food made up, if he lives?”

The Major, Langley Morder, called out then.

“Have the prisoners brought to the command section!”

He was surprised when, ten minutes later, not just one, but four men and women were brought forward. All had been beaten, at least a bit, but none seemed to have been ill used, thankfully. There was the young man, dressed in rich clothing, though it was torn in places. Next to him stood a woman who was older, without being truly ancient, dressed in a robe of heavy material. A plain brown, but with a fine pattern woven into it. A man, with gray hair and a well-trimmed beard, a thing that covered his chin, and upper lip, but not the sides, stood nervously, but in front of the woman behind them.

She was young, seeming no older than Anders was.

The older man, rather bravely, spoke first. It was clear he was frightened, but he did it anyway.

“I must ask that you not harm the ladies. They have magic, but only small things that did you and yours no harm in the battle. That my life is forfeit is understood, but...”

The words were in Yansian. Anders simply stood, holding his plate, and carefully bowed.

“We have extra food here. May I have your names, gentles?”

He would have assured their safety, but it wasn’t his place to do so. Everyone else looked at him then, only a few of them understanding what he’d said. Jeld got enough to stand and then find some extra bowls, from the Army cooks, as well as some wooden spoons. He just dished food up, as everyone else watched, the older man taking a deep breath.

“I’m Illian Darca. This man here is Davis Hughs. Then we have Calotta Meriths and Devi Sams. We’re all magical support staff. We were. The army is broken. We are at your mercy. You of Istlan don’t think highly of magic, so... Again, I beg that the women be spared.”

He seemed almost regal, in his plea. The other man nodded, to show his agreement, as the women both bowed their heads. Fearing the fate that must befall them. Anders translated the words, then added a bit, looking over at Prince Erold.

“This man is Illian Darca. Baruda? We owe him a great debt. I, personally, owe him much.” He didn’t mention what that was, but Erold had at least heard the story before. So had Depak and Hoatha. Daren as well. It was the Prince of Istlan who stood then, and bowed to the man, going low.

Then he spoke, in Yansian. It was a bit broken, but more or less understandable.

“Illian Darca. You are known to those of Istlan.” He called out then, in his own tongue. “Release this man’s bonds. All of them, in fact. They are not to be harmed, if they offer no resistance.”

A few of the Army personal seemed uneasy about that, but one of the men, a cook, moved in with a sharp knife, and, as the men and women prepared for death, untied their hands, prying the rope away, carefully. It was a nice length of rope, so he knew enough not to cut it.

They’d been tied together, but now simply stood, not understanding what was happening.

Jeld got them their bowls of food, smiling at them, not seeming fearful at all.

Anders bowed and smiled. It had to seem tired, but he hoped it didn’t seem insane.

“I’m Anders Brolly. This man here is Prince Erold Caldas. Third son of King Mathias. General Coelder is in charge of the army here.” He went on, explaining who everyone was, adding in the military staff he knew there. The rest was left off, instead of overwhelming the men and women. They were allowed to sit. On the ground, with the rest of them.

The old man, Darca, managed a nervous look, settled carefully and then shook his head.

“Forgive me, but I do not truly understand. We aren’t being put to death?”

“Correct. Some months ago, when asked for aid, you prevented a group of Istlan women and children from being used in a most foul fashion. That kindness is not forgotten. I, personally, owe you for that.”

The man tilted his head then.

“You do? I’m not certain...” The words were polite, if baffled.

Anders, sitting near the group of foreign magic users, explained.

“I was visiting in the south. The southern continent, in fact. In Devos, on the road, heading toward Barquea, when the southern army buckled here. I could only sit and watch it happen, using wizardry skills. I tried, desperately, to find some way to help, but I was too far away. Thousands of miles. So... I recalled that I’d made some cloaks, and had them passed out. Using that as a point of familiar focus, I sent a message to those wearing them. Begging you for aid... Thank you, by the way.”

He bowed again, sitting still, but meaning it.

The old fellow sighed.

“Illian aid... That... Well, there were rather some questions about that, weren’t there? Clearly some powerful magic had been used to do that, and then, well, I work in seemings, only. I managed to make a big enough production of things that the army decided to let those people go. No one understood how they’d known to call out to me, but all agreed that, once they’d done so, I was obligated to act.” He bowed back, his head staying low for a long moment.

Not asking for the rest of things.

Anders explained, anyway.

“When we were at sea, we had occasion to be attacked by some pirate ships. On one of those was a Knight of Yanse, working with his uncle. A good fellow named Sir Kline. He mentioned a battle we had both been at, a while back, where the mighty Illian Darca, who we of Istlan call Baruda, due to your fantastical skill at illusion, had been there. Giving me a name. That’s all it was. Happenstance turning to good fortune for many, that day. Out of disaster. At least for our side.”

The man took a bite of the apples, and blinked.

“This is well done. Prisoners aren’t normally fed well, if at all. Thank you. What is the plan, after this, if I may ask? For us, I mean? Selfish of me, but it’s rather front and center to my thoughts, I must admit.”

Anders didn’t know. They weren’t going to be put to death. Not even if he had to grab them and run. He shifted to Istlan then, and spoke to the General, since he was in command there.

“What is the plan for them? We could count their ransom as coming from me, perhaps?”

The man shook his head, but not in an angry fashion. Then he glanced at the others there.

“That probably won’t be needed. As you said, we owe a debt here. We’ll need surety from them that they will not act against us again, for a time. Say two years? If they agree to that, then we can, likely, allow them to go home. They aren’t soldiers and have the offer of paid ransom. We can, if need be, take that from the spoils you brought in? Those are already being spread to the men as a bonus, so... Let me check with the King on that? I’ll need your aid...”

They finished eating first, but as soon as they were both done, Anders cleaning the plates with a simple spell, which had the captive suddenly paying closer attention to him, for some reason. After they moved away, the General carefully writing out what he wanted from the King. It took an hour to send the message and get a reply, but that went directly to the other man, not to Anders.

The General simply nodded in response, seeming strange and as if hearing voices.

“Release them, on their word not to do harm to us for that time. Very good. See to that for us, Master Brolly? My ability to speak their language isn’t great, I fear.”

When Anders found them, food finished, bowls taken and already cleansed, by Jeld and Daren, he clapped.

“We have word as to your disposition. All of you are to be released, if you agree not to act against us using your skills, or force of arms, for a time of two years? The war is going to be over before then. Truly, if you can get word to your King and ask him to declare it over, before we take his capital, that would be a kindness. I don’t want to have to slaughter my way across an entire land, seeking him. Regardless, if you all agree, on those terms? Give your word and all that?”

Each of them looked at him, in turn.

The young man, the necromancer, brushed at his lank brown hair.

“I agree. To save my life, I will not fight you, with magic or weapons, or other means, for a time of two years.”

The women echoed him, still seeming scared and Illian Darca sighed.

“I will do the same. Not that it matters. I was bested already, by your illusionist. That wolf... A bit gaudy, but well done and the work of a true master of the art. Making it speak like that, in the language of Yanse... Well, my paltry efforts paled in front of it. May I have the name of the person who did that?”

Hoatha laughed a bit, then spoke in flawless Yansian. There was no hint of a detectable accent.

“That was Anders Brolly, of course. The man you have been speaking to.”

Anders waved the words away, and spoke.

“That wasn’t a paltry effort at all. I have learned much about what is needed for good illusion, from seeing your work, in fact. I hope one day to match what you can do. It is a dream, perhaps, but that is the standard to which I hold my illusions.”

The other man rolled his eyes, but did seem pleased, for a moment.

“You are most accomplished. You have many here who are. That is unusual for Istlan, is it not? We of Yanse normally have your people beaten by many times in magic, on the battlefield. This... Well, I have seen something like it before, in prior campaigns, but this was... Overwhelming.”

It was going to have to continue being so, but that wasn’t mentioned.

Interestingly, Hoatha and Depak saw to aiding the mages in leaving, finding them some captured horses and sending them north, away from where the battles were going to be happening, in the coming days. Into the night, as it was. Then, with the others producing lights, riding along the line of men, they marched out into the night, themselves.

They arrived at the keep in the early hours, with Anders making three large holes in the heavy timbers of the walls, opening them all at once. It took a lot of effort, as well as getting very close to the structure, but Daren froze the stream and pond that had the wooden guard wall over it. That allowed the men to simply walk inside and take the place, killing some guards, but not even many of those.

In the morning they marched on, after securing prisoners, this time, and stripping the wealth from the keep. The plan was to keep moving, their forces moving faster than the enemy could comprehend. That meant pushing themselves, resting when they could, which was far from comfortable.

Princess Salina whined, nearly the whole time, but she kept going, and in a way helped the others stay strong. After all, with the soft and coddled woman doing her part, none of them could do any less.

Even she got better over the course of the next days. That or she was so truly exhausted that she didn’t have the energy left to bother him with requests to rest or take comforts that no one else was being allowed.

After three weeks, and a line of six different keeps and holds, the last one being a real, if small castle, they arrived at the home of the King. Anders had figured the man would have fled, but instead they were met with an army that was twice the size of their own.

They started to die, almost instantly, Anders laying waste to them using his new explosive arrows. The whistlers. Then the line opened, and a rather familiar looking creature walked forward, on four legs. Those were hugely muscled, the being a light mint green in color.

Prince Erold turned to him, dressed in full plate armor, with a lance in his hand. He hadn’t bothered doing that for the other battles, but this one was special, it seemed.

“Is that an illusion, do you think?”

He shook his head, since he understood the idea. The being wasn’t there, to his wizard’s skill either. Still, it was hiding that way, not a mere seeming at all.

Meaning they were in incredible danger, suddenly.

“No, Prince Erold. That’s no illusion. That, is a Lerna. Even one of those can lay waste to an army, and if I have it right, magic will do very little to it at all.”

Tensely, the blond Prince nodded.

“I see. So, we fight with spear and sword?”

Smiling, Anders shook his head.

“Not at all. No, this time, we fight with words.”

Chapter thirteen

Anders had to put his shield up, turning his left hand, last two fingers down, thumb alongside his palm, as arrows tried to hit him. That was his fault, walking out into the battlefield, to confront the giant beast who stood there. Except that, of course, the being wasn’t an animal at all. It was a person.

If one who was clearly getting ready to bite him in two. It was larger than a big ox, by nearly three times, with a massive head and a mouth filled with sharp seeming teeth.

“Hello!” He called out in the tongue of his own birth. It would sound a bit accented to the being in front of him, but should be understandable. “This is a bit far away from Lornistan, isn’t it?”

His tone was affable he thought. Not fearful, either.

The great beast, who wasn’t one of those at all, gave him a look that seemed to carry a grin with it. Like a dog might hold on its face, except done on purpose.

“Someone who can speak properly? Finally! These tiny creatures keep dragging me around on a cart, tying me to it. I could break the ropes, but then they poke me with their sharp sticks. I was supposed to come to the cold north, to fight in a war, but truthfully, I’ve been moving from place to place for nearly a year, not understanding what’s going on at all. You... seem to be on the other side?”

He nodded, since that was simply the truth.

“Yes. Things have changed. Both Rothina and Ganges are on our side now. I’m Anders Brolly. I used to be Farad Ibn Istel. I lived a few miles outside of what is now Lornistan, in fact, over a thousand years ago.”

The big creature gave him a curious look, arrows still falling on Anders, who held his shield in place, and otherwise ignored them. Nothing hit the Lerna, thankfully.

The voice, which was deep, but very clear, came out politely.

“I can’t really just give over, because you say I should. I don’t suppose you can prove you are who you say? I was told to come and do what these men wanted. I’d kind of gotten the impression that one of them was supposed to marry me, to be truthful. Instead, the only poking they give me is with a spear point, as they grunt at me in their strange language. They feed me, but... I think they don’t know I’m a person.”

“That’s less than perfect of them. We, of course, understand that you’re far more than they assume, naturally. Now, proof... Let me...”

He looked around, then waved, intending it for Ganges, who seemed to understand. He walked out onto the battlefield a few moments later. Instead of putting up a shield, he simply walked, the arrows passing through him, instead of landing at all.

When he got about three paces from the Lerna, he called out.

“Saffron? So nice to see you! I wasn’t aware that you were way up here. You’ve met Anders? He’s an old friend of mine.”

“I have. He seems very kind, great-grandfather. Now, am I supposed to turn to this other side? I’m not certain. This man mentioned that we’re on his side, now?”

Ganges looked past them, toward where the King of Yanse, Yarler, was sitting on a golden steed, his armor a rich golden color. He looked good, Anders had to admit. Not handsome, as much as regal.

“That’s right. Though, for the moment, you should probably move to the side, so that no one gets confused and attacks you. It’s too hard to explain that you’re on our side and would be unfair, to have you turn and attack those of Yanse. Your friends, no doubt?”

The Lerna shrugged her vast shoulders, which seemed very much like what Ganges often did.

“Not truly. The language barrier kept us from growing close at all. I’d hoped to meet someone, but... no. Of course, not trusting them, I stayed in my battle form, which I’m certain made that harder for them. I normally look prettier than this.”

Ganges walked with her, to the left of the battle, nothing touching either of them as Anders had to walk backwards, holding his shield, being targeted by arrows the whole time. Then he started fighting again, the arrows being returned from his side of the line, thousands of the enemy falling at once each time one of his arrows fell.

The other war mages were taking nearly as many, so a parley flag was being flown, about ten minutes later. Their side sent a Captain out, to speak to what seemed to be a well-appointed and outfitted knight. Anders only knew that they weren’t supposed to keep fighting, for the time being. When the Captain returned, he failed to speak to Anders at all, going back to the General, who was, after all, in control of their side of things.

Then, after two more exchanges, everyone standing there, not knowing what was going on, the Yansian side laid their weapons on the ground and simply stood there. Surrendering.

They didn’t seem happy with it, but they were standing in piles of bodies, so it seemed like the better plan. Fighting really hadn’t worked for them that well, so far. The men around him cheered, but Anders didn’t bother doing that. He was too tired. Too sick of fighting, to think that it was over yet.

There was a lot more standing then, and finally the army moving out to take the remaining five thousand Yansian knights and soldiers prisoner. They were stripped of their armor, the women set to the side. Even if rape hadn’t been allowed so far, the men started to strip the women of their clothing, beating them and demanding they spread their legs. It was done rudely, as well, and not even in their language.

Anders walked forward then, and simply killed the men doing such things, without warning. Ones from his own side. That got the others to stop what they were doing, after the first ten died.

“We do not harm those surrendered in battle. Show respect.”

He readied himself to fight, and wasn’t too shocked when he had to do it. People were made to explode, stumbled back and hit by blasts of lightning, taking about twenty more, over the next minutes. Then they pulled back, with General Coelder riding over. He looked wild eyed, but when he bellowed, it wasn’t with an order to attack Anders.

“Hold or die! We have brokered a peaceful surrender here. Now, you fools, hold! Fall in. Fall in!”

He turned his horse, to face Anders, seeming a bit annoyed.

“Thank you, Master Brolly, we should have this now. If you would see to the safety of these ladies? Perhaps healing? Our apologies, as well?” The tone was uneasy, and when Anders touched his mind, the reason for that was due to fear. He didn’t know if Anders would strike him down for failing to control his forces earlier.

“I will, General Coelder.”

There were over a hundred women, most of them fighters, but some mages and in a few cases, something else that he didn’t understand. They were all happy enough not to be raped and by the time he spoke a dozen lines to them, the others in his group came to stand beside him.

All except Prince Erold, who was busy, treating with the King there.

Depak moved to stand near him, with Princess Salina turned the other way, facing behind them. Her hand in a fist, ready to fight, it seemed. It was fierce looking, her eyes being dark with anger.

Anders waved at the women again.

“We have guards for you, now. Forgive our lateness to this. We... expected better of our men. Truly, they’ve been well behaved, so far. Now, we have healing for any who are harmed and I could get your names? General Coelder also asked that I convey our apologies for what took place here. I am sorry, as is the Kingdom of Istlan.” He bowed then, going low and holding it for nearly a minute.

Finally, the women there did it back. Then, after a while, he started writing and speaking to each lady in turn.

They were tallying names and numbers, as well as doing some light healing, when a rather scared seeming boy of Yanse, dressed in a plain tunic and black loose-fitting trousers walked up to them, his voice shaking.

“I seek Prince Anders Brolly, if it pleases you, my lords?” He spoke his own language, meaning Anders heard and understood him first.

“Here! What may I do for you, Sir?” The young man, who was probably ten or so, turned to him and visibly relaxed.

“I was sent, by your Prince, Erold? He asks for you to come and translate for him, I think? Several there can speak Istlan tongue, but no one does it well enough. Is that well with you?” He swallowed, as if Anders might yell at him for doing his job.

“Certainly. Daren? Jeld? Will you both stay here and guard these ladies? If anyone tries to harm them... Kill the attackers. You as well, Princess Salina?” He spoke in two languages, so that everyone understood the plan.

Then he moved, along with the boy, and interestingly, both Depak Sona and Ganges. The child didn’t seem to think it odd that the two dark skinned men walked along with them.

“I’m Walden. A page here. I just carry messages and all that? My mother works in the kitchen, so she got me in, working here, too. I was never sent to fetch a prince before. I figure they don’t care if I die too much, so put me up for it. This isn’t good, is it? The King surrendered. We’ll probably all die now.”

That was a good thought to have, if not one to set a young mind at ease. Anders didn’t mention that though.

“Probably not the pages. I don’t know about anyone else. Kitchen staff should be fine, too, so that’s you and your mother... I don’t really have a lot of influence that way, myself. Let’s go and see about what’s needed?”

As they walked, Anders covertly pointed at himself, muttering a simple cleansing spell.

“Andersana nisk ona karu, fen.” There was a buzzing sensation as all filth, oil, dead skin and any smudges or blood moved from his skin. The new word pushed that away from his clothing, as well, though it didn’t actually tidy that portion of things, otherwise.

He did that one separately, waving to the side, so that any waste would hit the remnants of some small plants that had been there, probably for decoration, until they had been trampled earlier that day. After that, he changed into a robe, made of silk, in a green color with a woven black design in it. It was fancy, while still leaving him free to move, having trousers that were very flowing.

This was made of his main outfit, leaving the gambeson and mail alone. The muttering went on longer that way, as they walked into the halls of the grand palace, which was, he had to admit, refined. There were bright wall hangings in the front entry to the place, done in bright yellows and blacks, with red highlights. Showing different scenes, indicating old victories in battle.

The boy guiding him, intent on his duty, didn’t seem to notice the alterations Anders made, which probably meant he hadn’t reeked too badly. This showed when they worked into the space more deeply, to show a line of Istlan soldiers, all carrying spears, guarding a single door.

One of the men waved in his direction.

“This is Master Brolly, the war mage. I don’t recognize the other boy.”

The man next to him rolled his eyes, but didn’t mention why that was. Anders just waved at the child next to him.

“This is Page Walden. Mark the face in your minds? He’ll need to come and go, but at the same time that fact will almost certainly be used by the people here, to attempt escape or assassination. Try not to harm the boy over it. Any of the other servants, either. Truly, we should find a way to buy their good will. Give them gifts and protection, in these troubled times.”

He was just making conversation, but several of the men seemed to think that sounded about right.

No one stopped him from going to the door, where he simply knocked, using the brass ring there. It wasn’t a thing he was used to, but it made a satisfying clank on the metal below it, and the door opened almost instantly, to show another ten guards inside, all in Istlan colors. They lined the stone walls. Inside the ring made of those bodies, sitting at a finely carved table that was on a raised dais, sat Prince Erold, dressed for battle still, King Yarler, stripped of armor, in what were probably the clothes he’d had on under that and General Coelder.

There was another man there, sitting to the King’s right hand. He had a great white beard, a thin frame that matched Coelder’s and a bitter expression, at the moment. The lines on his face spoke of smiles being at home there, more commonly. His light blue eyes scrapped over Anders when he walked in, taking in information on a fearsome level.

He leaned into the King, whispering, but not that softly. As if they were supposed to overhear what was said.

“This one is a magic user. His raiment is fresh, without loose thread or bit of fluff. It isn’t an illusion. That or it is of a finer kind than I have ever seen. It rubs as he moves, giving off sound. His hair is unkept, but his face and hands perfectly clean. He wears armor under the flowing outer garment, at the same time, and there is a line of a hidden dagger on his right hip. Something long, but not a true sword. There are weapons calluses on his right hand, and on his fingers there are marks of heavy bow use. This, then, is likely the one called War Bow. Anderson Brolly.”

Bowing, he tried to give the man a polite look.

“Anders Brolly. Not Anderson. Everything else was correct. Very well done, Sir. Brilliantly, in fact. May I know your name?” It seemed polite, if all of his secrets were to be laid bare like that at a glance.

He spoke in their language, the King sighing.

“This is my chief councilor, Berit Mourn. I am King Louis Yarler. I was King, at least. Our negotiations here are to see if I keep that title, after my grave mistake, or if I am to be locked in a tower, fed through a slot in the door?”

Anders bowed to the man, using second courtly, since the truth was, for the moment, he was still the King there. That wasn’t going to last, but his disposition wasn’t truly up to him. Then, on standing, he repeated the whole thing, in Istlan, word for word. That way the General would have all of it as well. Prince Erold already spoke some Yansian, so it wasn’t totally lost on him.

He didn’t sit, moving to stand behind Erold and Coelder, instead. Simply repeating things in different languages, when desired. Which was almost every word.

Yarler looked at the table and then brought his head up, defiantly.

“I was approached, some years ago, by a woman. She did wonderous magic, and suggested that she could provide my army with an incredible fighter who would lay waste to the armies of Istlan. She delivered instead a beast that no one understood how to handle. We were committed and so war began. I imagine you know the rest. Except who set us on this path in the first place?”

The General gave the man a look that spoke of possible torture being in the offing to find that secret out, and Prince Erold sighed.

“A woman, with dark skin. Lovely in her way? Calling herself Rothina, or possibly Rotha?”

The King wrinkled his nose, making his blonde facial hair move.

“So you do know of her? Regardless, she set us to war, with the promise of an easy win, and then her creature failed to do much of anything. Except eat. It did a lot of that.” The idea didn’t leave the man seeming pleased.

Anders interjected then.

“The Lerna known as Saffron? So you don’t think poorly of her, she was more than willing to fight on your behalf, though she didn’t seem to enjoy being poked with sticks and spears. No one even tried to teach her to speak your language, which would have made things far easier that way. She seems more than passingly intelligent. That worked out for us, since my understanding is that had she been set on us in battle, Istlan would have lost.” He grinned then. “Also, she was led to believe that she might find a husband, among your people? Clearly, you fell down on that portion of things. She seems most charming.”

He spoke the words twice, with Prince Erold simply going wide eyed, but seeming to believe him. The others, all of them, seemed to think he was jesting with them.

Except that Berit Mourn simply thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“You seem rather serious about this topic. Saffron, you claim the name to be? A true mistake on our part then, not seeing her for what she truly is. Not that it matters now. Please convey our apologies in her direction? If I am to lose my head in the coming days, there’s no reason for others to think me rude in passing.”

Anders smiled at the wordplay and spoke to the man directly, in return.

“It will be done, as you say.”

The conversation was darker in the main, going over how to best strip the kingdom, with Yarler suggesting that they simply place another on the throne. A relative of his, perhaps, or even Prince Erold, who would guard those of Yanse as his own. There was a clear plea in the words. Nearly begging, for the people of the land not to be broken for his mistakes. The man didn’t ask for his life. Not even coming at the idea from the side.

They seemed surprised when Prince Erold turned to Anders and spoke, in broken Yansian.

“Send a message to father mine? Pen it, shall I do first, here.”

It took longer to write out than it did to speak the spell, breaking it down carefully. Going directly to the ear of Master Tolan.

The words were rather hard and almost brutal, in the first lines.

We have taken Yanse and they lie broken at our feet. Their King has surrendered in his own person and for his people...

After that was a simple repeating of what had been offered, as for terms. There was no suggestion that the man hurry in any way, but an hour later, still at the table, Master Tolan’s voice spoke in his ear. He had to write the whole message out, hurriedly, since it was long and rather complex in parts.

When it was finished, written in Istlan, both the General and the Prince went over it, their faces serious. Then Prince Erold waved at the paper.

“If you would, Master Brolly?”

The paper was dry under his fingers, and he’d written it, so already had a translation in his head. Some of the phrases had to be spoken differently, in order to be understood, which had been interesting enough to him that he’d already worked most of them out. A game of sorts, that he often engaged in, when standing around doing little to nothing.

“This is the word of King Mathias Caldas, of Istlan. King Yarler is requested to swear fealty to both Mathias and Istlan. For a time of ten years, one part in ten of all coin, all grains, all new born animals of the field or barn and any goods or other commodities are to be given over to Istlan, on the last day of harvest.” There was a hiss, from the King, but not his man, who simply stared at Anders so intently he feared they were going to fight, later.

Erold waved for him to continue.

“In addition, Yanse is not to have a standing army, for a time of twenty years. Nobles may have forces in their own areas, for common defense. Levies may be trained, but the army must disband, for that time. Watchers will be posted to see to the application of these demands.”

The King sighed then and shook his head.

“I have to agree, then, for my people. Is there more?”

There was, of course.

“Istlan and her forces will prevent, where possible, the abuse of any of Yanse who do not offer harm to them, in the future.”

That was the entirety of the thing, except for the ending, which was a hope for peace between their lands and an official acceptance that the war was over.

Sneering, seeming ready to balk, King Yarler nodded.

“May we send acceptance then? This will need to be explained to my people. It’s a hard punishment, but better than a war to the death of every poor plow boy and milk maid. Will you do this for us, Warbow?”

He bowed, then repeated the words to Prince Erold, who smiled. It was forced, but he helped to write the message out, suggesting pleasing phrases. Then they all witnessed the King of Yanse kneeling, and swearing to both Istlan and King Mathias. If the man was disgruntled over the act, embarrassed and humiliated, he still spoke the words and, when Anders touched his mind, seemed to mean them. For the moment.

That there would be resistance to the new rules was also part of what was going on, inside his mind. The man also didn’t think he could win, at all. Even killing King Mathias wasn’t going to be enough to sway what had already been agreed to.

Still, holding his kingdom, and his life, as well as that of his sons and daughters, was enough. His last wife had died, trying to have their fourth child, not two years before. For the moment. The councilor standing next to him didn’t bend the knee for Istlan or her King at all. His mind was also seeking holes in the demands made. Oddly, the man felt that the simple wording and gentle terms acted on the side of Istlan, not Yanse.

A thing that Anders could work out for himself.

If they were too harsh, the people would fight, even to the death, since that would be what came anyway. Taking one tenth of all wealth each year would make it harder for their prior enemies to raise forces against them, and would make life a bit harder on the common people, and the nobles, but it wouldn’t break them. Ten years was a long time, but not so much so that the end was out of sight. Most people who were alive would see the fine lifted, and their normal lives return.

Most people would simply bristle under the yoke, knowing their turn under it would be over, in time. Then, of course, the next thing would land on them. That was the way of life, after all.

Prince Erold stood up then, meaning General Coelder did the same thing. Anders had stayed on his feet, marking him as a guard there, or a servant. The army men had been standing the whole time as well. The shifting was ignored, but all of them were doing that kind of thing. Standing for hours on end was work, after all. Even for fit people used to fighting.

The Prince turned and bowed to the King of Yanse.

“We will leave men here, to guard you. Will you be sending missives and giving a public address, to explain things to your people?”

Once translated, the man, rather stiffly replied.

“I must humble myself in public as well? That wasn’t what I heard in the agreement.”

Erold laughed, which didn’t go over very well, the men, both of them, seeming ready to take offense.

“Not at all. You swore to Istlan and her King. You’re one of us now. That means you won’t be required to grovel or demean yourself for our entertainment. I only meant that it would be best for your people to understand things, quickly. Just to prevent future issues that might arise?”

The words were polite, but didn’t make the men relax at all. Instead, they simply stood, as Prince Erold and General Coelder left the room. The soldiers in their dark red and gray-black walked out as well. Marching, in a very official fashion. Anders simply stood there, waiting for the rest to leave. Smiling at the two men there, gently. Trying to seem compassionate.

The King of Yanse stared at him then, seeming afraid, for a moment.

“You are to be our guard then, Warbow? Our watcher?”

“Not that I know of. I just wanted to add a few words.” He regarded the men coolly, for a moment. Dispassionately. “This is a low day for you, but the building blocks of a good future were left to you. Hold to your word, and you will rise in power again. It will be tempting to plot and plan, perhaps thinking that murder or dark magics can return you to what you were, faster. That won’t be happening. At the same time, if you simply do the right thing, for your people and yourself, and keep your word, you will be fine. The only cost of this... Mistake, will be in the lives lost in battle.”

He bowed and backed away then, toward the door.

“A thing that I fear I will pay for as well. Let’s not have war again? I would rather find the people of Yanse as my friends.”

Laughing, darkly, the King threw off a lazy bow.

“Well, we’ll see if that happens? I don’t know if I can do that, with you, Warbow. Too many died at your hands, for friendship. Perhaps with your King, though?”

That was about the best that Anders could hope for, even if there was a rebuke in it.

“Understood. I will leave your lands, as soon as I am allowed, given that? Perhaps it would be best if I not be required to return, any time soon?” He was tired and it showed in his voice.

Yarler sneered at him.

“Is that a threat, boy?”

“Yes. I can see that your people will think me a monster, for what I have been forced to do. The problem with that is, of course, that I actually am. I know that war is bad for people, but I don’t have troubled dreams at night. Tens of thousands, perhaps a hundred thousand, of your people have fallen to me, personally. We don’t want it to be more than that. I don’t. We don’t have to be personal friends for you to make this loss into, if not a victory, then at least a lesser thing. Over time.”

The King growled at him then, actually making a guttural noise, deep in his throat.

“Leave here, Anders Brolly. If I see you again...”

He shrugged, since the time for being courteous was, it seemed, over.

“Then perhaps you’ll be more polite? This was a hard day, for everyone. I won’t hold your feelings against you, given that. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll take my leave?”

The large man, who was easily a head and a half taller than Anders was, seemed ready to fight, or at least call out in anger at the boy in front of him. His man, Mourn, touched his arm, but didn’t speak at all. It was enough, and the man waved him away.

“Forgive me. Go then, as you please, Brolly. Perhaps we will speak again, in less heated times?”

With a nod, he backed from the room, then got ready to fight, when the door closed. No men stood to guard the people inside the room, however. Not until he was all the way outside the castle, some minutes later, did he find anyone with a weapon, who seemed to be watching anything.

He walked back to where the women had been being kept, but they were all gone. No one knew where the prisoners had gone at all. He had to move into a trance to find out what was going on, which was simple enough, really. Those who had been defeated had been stripped of weapons and armor and sent home. To their families. The ladies were in that group as well.

Many of the people in the area were frightened, but the city around the castle wasn’t deserted, since there was, suddenly, coin to be made. Soldiers flush with full purses were willing to buy a lot of different things.

So he walked down the road, toward the feeling of where his people were staging. Some minutes later he caught up with General Coelder and Prince Erold. The twenty guards they had as well. From the talk, they didn’t get to leave, so were sleeping outside, under the sky, that night. At least the poor soldiers were. Anders didn’t even have to make a house, one having been brought into existence for them already. From the way it was laid out, Princess Salina was the culprit on that one.

When he got in, she frowned at him.

“So, we have won a war. Why am I not happier about this? I keep thinking of those I killed. They haunt me, when I close my eyes.”

He simply nodded.

“That is the price of being a Great One, I fear. One of them. You must carry the weight of those who you must climb upon to become great in the first place. It is never battle that makes you great. It’s what you do after it that shows who you truly are.”

The others there seemed to think he was being rude, but Depak Sona, sitting on the floor, to the side of the room, simply nodded. His face perfectly blank. It meant a lot, coming from a man who had been called Great One for over sixty years. Nothing more was said about the topic.

Chapter fourteen

Anders was called on to act as interpreter for King Yarler and his people, almost constantly over the next few days. The man didn’t try to kill him, but he glared, grumbled and made rude hand gestures when he thought no one was looking. He failed at that part of things, but was ignored. After all, Anders was just standing there, hour after hour, sending messages to Master Tolan and receiving answers, back and forth.

Endlessly, it seemed.

It was just as hard on Prince Erold, who had to sit there, trying to seem peaceful and calm, as the angry King became less tractable over time, not more. On the third day, upset that King Mathias wouldn’t lower the ten percent annual payment he’d demanded, the man practically foamed at the mouth.

“If he will not bend on this, I will have his son raped and flayed alive!” He pounded the table, standing to his full height.

Right before he flew backward from the large wooden table, the ten soldiers in the room finally getting to do something, pointing their spears at the large man. He slid on the floor, which was smooth enough to not damage him too much. Anders moved around the table, having been standing on the other side, his right hand held out, in a fist. A thing that presaged death to him, but probably just looked odd to the man on the floor.

“Enough!” He was yelling, sounding angry enough that several of the guards covertly took a few steps away from him. “You will not make threats! You have lost and if you don’t accept it, now and agree to what you already swore to, I will kill you and put someone else on your throne! One word, other than asking for King Mathias to have a fine day, and I will end your days!”

He actually readied himself to do just that.

Behind him, in a similar stance, Erold cleared his throat, speaking in Istlan.

“I missed that. You’re going to kill him?”

Anders nodded.

“If he doesn’t give over, here and now, in a very real fashion. He just threatened to have you raped and flayed alive, as a threat to King Mathias. Who do you have in mind to take his place?” He wasn’t being glib or friendly, having had enough of the man, ruler or not.

The words included a sigh.

“My brother Alpert, was mentioned for the position? If we do that, we’ll have to kill King Yarler’s entire family line. I was trying to avoid that.”

“I know. I have been as well.” Then he switched to Yansian, the man on the floor fuming at him.

“So, what will it be? This is in your hands. Do you actually bend the knee, or are you...”

The King scrambled up, pulling his belt knife. From the side, backing away, Mourn called out. “No!”

The councilor was correct in what he likely saw coming. Anders didn’t pause, since the blade made it a real fight, between the two of them. As the large, decently powerful man moved in, rushing faster than Anders would have credited as possible, trying to plunge the hand long blade into his face, his own right hand opened. With the greatest flow of energy that he’d ever put into an explosion, using that particular spell.

The man was a King, after all, so deserved the best he could manage.

His upper torso and head were gone, the lower portion of the body standing for a few moments, before crumbling, the black leather boots and cream-colored trousers covered with blood and bits of the King. None of the guards screamed, and Prince Erold made no more than a harsh, somewhat grunting sound. Berit Mourn moved back, in fear, clutching himself.

“The fool...” His eyes went wide, then the old, rather thin, man, simply nodded. “My family is blameless in my activities. I know that you must slay me, as a threat, but if you could leave them alive? My sons are grown and live far from here, not having chosen the life of power. My wife is... She’s a good woman. Spare them, please.”

Anders stared at the man, wanting, in part, to simply send the man away. He knew too much to waste, after all. The other portion of himself nearly murdered him, as he stood there. It was the way that things were done, after all.

Breathing hard, he nodded.

“You will get a payment in gold, to keep you and your wife. The family of Yarler must...” Kindness wouldn’t work, of course. Even if they promised themselves to King Mathias, in five years, or ten, they’d come back and become a problem. Farad knew that, from the old histories. It didn’t happen every time, but so often that he couldn’t risk allowing it.

He repeated the words in Istlan, with Prince Erold, who looked pale, agreeing with him. A bit too eagerly, as if he wanted to placate a wild animal.

“We should clean up in here and then contact Father, to let him know that the plans have changed. I’ll pen a missive to that end?” His tone was slightly nervous, as if that might not be allowed.

Anders nodded, and started muttering a spell. Everyone stared at him, until they noticed that the blood and viscera of the former King came together, forming a ball, which then floated into the air. That was walked to the front of the castle, past the wall, and deposited to the side of the heavy wooden gate there. On the right.

He didn’t tell anyone what his point was, in doing that. They didn’t have the man’s head, since that was beyond recognition, being in thousands of pieces, as it was. Then, spinning on his heel, he went back inside, to finish removing the blood and missed chunks of flesh. That didn’t have to be touched, if he did it, instead of forcing some boy with a mop to take care of the mess.

When he entered the room again, Erold had a rather hasty note for his father. It was, when he read over it, kinder to him than he would have been.

It spoke of how King Yarler had made vile threats against his personal safety, then attacked Anders with a blade. It was all true, but lacked a bit in the telling. Worse, it wasn’t even being done to protect him, he didn’t think. His friend was simply shortening the tale, so that the spell of communication wouldn’t be too long.

It took about ten minutes to translate it into the special language of the spell, then, since it involved the death of a King, it was set to play ten times, instead of the normal five. They had to sit, for a very long time, with Berit Mourn becoming more and more uneasy. A thing that made sense, when Anders thought about it for a while.

After all, it really did make more sense to simply kill Mourn, rather than to pay him some gold to go away. He wasn’t in line for the throne there, but all of the nobles who wanted to resist the yoke of Istlan would seek him out, if he were left alive. A bit of shiny metal probably wouldn’t be enough to stop that from happening. Still, they could make the man vanish, later. If he killed him then and there, everyone would be afraid of him. If he followed the man himself, when he left, and made it seem as if he simply ran off, for his own protection, that would probably work well enough. People would suspect, but they wouldn’t know who to blame.

He spoke out loud, when Master Tolan’s voice spoke inside his head. It sounded as if the man were right there, next to him.

“Prince Alpert is to move here, securing Yanse for Istlan as Regent, his heir becoming King of Yanse, when he reaches the age of majority. The family of the former King, to the seventh in line for the throne, are to be put to death, as soon as possible. All others of that line are to be dispossessed, regardless of station. If they are of noble lineage, they must be put to death.”

Prince Erold made a considering sound, and then smiled, softly.

“Interesting. Father is making certain that Alpert won’t be seen as benefiting from this directly. That’s a fiction, of course. The powers of a Regent are very similar to that of a King. So, we need to round up what relatives of the former King we can find and log who they are. This is bloody work, and needs to be done in public. Hiding this won’t have the needed impact.”

Anders was already standing, and readied himself to personally kill women and children. It was bloody work, as had been said, but part of him at least was already dead inside, and wouldn’t care too much about that.

That wasn’t the real plan. Not at all. Erold simply sent the guards, two of them, to set things up, and had the Army collect the needed people. Some, wisely had fled, in the previous days, but five hours later the screaming and crying people, just seeming like any noble might, were being pulled out of their line and having their heads chopped off by a hooded ax man.

He was one of the Istlan military, and large, but a full black head covering protected him from being known, in case retribution was to be delivered later. The scent of the dead, a combination of released bowels, urine and a coppery hint of blood, reminded Anders of the battlefield. Only with less smoke and more high-pitched screaming.

The public came out to witness the act, a thing that Anders didn’t understand at all, at first. They jeered those dying, in a cruel fashion, making hand signs that were probably considered most rude. It wasn’t until they were dead, and Anders was waved at by Erold that he really thought about it, however.

“Would you speak for us? Explain to them what our thoughts were here?”

He didn’t have anything prepared, but was used, from his past life, to speaking to the masses. This was a large crowd, of thousands, dressed in a variety of brown and beige homespun clothing, with smatterings of brighter colors in the mix, which was what commoners there wore to work, he thought.

He moved to the front, Prince Erold beside him, and formed an illusion. It took a moment, but was large, and commanding seeming. King Mathias, if he were twenty feet tall, and perhaps ten years younger.

The voice that came out was correct as well, but loud, so all assembled might hear it. He also spoke in Yansian.

“Good people of Yanse! Attend my words. The King of your land Yarler, in most vile fashion, attempted to attack and kill Prince Erold of Istlan, after swearing to protect that land and it’s King! He died in that attempt. These good people here, blameless, were his relatives. Their lives were ended, to buy you and yours peace, in the coming years. This was not done to be cruel! Istlan and Yanse, are lands of laws, where none is held too far above any other. You are safe, as long as you throw in with those of Istlan and seek to be peaceful. Your King made mistakes. We do not seek to make you, his former people, suffer for his actions.” The seeming, a giant thing that was impressive enough, heaved a sigh, and took a single step forward.

“To that end, King Mathias of Istlan is sending his second son, Alpert the wise, to act as regent for your land! Celebrate this, for your lives will improve far more under him than under those who foolishly started a war they could not win! Rejoice and spread the word of the new order. That you now, all of you, have a chance for a better life, that you were kept from before!”

There was cheering. If it was due as much to fear, as had their previous efforts of jeering, as it was to his rousing speech, no one called out to challenge him on it.

The massive vision of the King vanished then, and the bodies of the dead were left in place. To rot. As a warning to the common people, he had to think.

Anders waved in their direction.

“We should see to proper ceremonies for them. We’ve won. No need to seem like savages now. People hearing of this will get that we aren’t to be trifled with.” Plus, bodies rotting in front of the castle would start to stink, shortly.

Prince Erold agreed though, after some thought.

“Cart them away, and bury them, in an appropriate space. Can we find a religious leader to say what rites they might require, so their souls can rest?”

The crowd was still there, so Anders walked toward the crowd, wondering if they were going to attack him, for being on the wrong side of the war. After all, they didn’t know who he was, personally.

“Excuse me, please? Does anyone know a local religious leader, who might speak for the dead? We’re going to have them buried, if that’s welcome.”

No one spoke for a long time, until a rather wizened old man stepped forward. He was stooped, missing most of his teeth and a bit filthy in places, showing he did some form of physical work for a living.

“We burn our dead, most times. Are you cursing them?”

Anders shook his head.

“Not at all. We can do that instead, then. Burn them as their customs call for? These people did nothing wrong. They were just related to the wrong man. We should see to them, as kindly as we can, after what was done here today.”

The man grunted, and looked at Anders closely.

“You with the Prince there? Herold? His advisor, or...”

“Erold. I do some small magical work for Istlan. Anders Brolly.”

The man spit then, on the ground.

“The Warbow? The man who killed most of the army?” He glared for a bit, then shook his head. “You seem a bit small for that, truth told.”

It was a bit insulting, but also not a thing for him to worry over at all.

“I know. A constant consternation in my life. So, a religious leader for these people? I don’t know what gods they served or followed.”

There was a pause, then the man pointed, down the road, into the distance.

“I don’t know what the King or his people did that way, but the Followers of the Waters have a temple down that way. They’re a big enough group that no one will think it odd that they handle this. Straight down, on the right. You won’t miss it. Big stone place, with waterfalls.”

People, picking up that not much else of note was going to happen that day, started walking back to the city, in the same direction that Anders traveled. No one bothered him, for some minutes, until finally, a woman who looked to be about two and a half decades smiled at him, sizing him up before moving next to him. She had golden hair and a lithe frame under her skirt. Anders gave her a nod, not smiling.

“Well met, miss.”

“Well met, Sir. You’re one of those Istlan types? Do you know what the plan is for us? I saw the giant speaking back there, but is this new Prince we’re getting a cruel man, or... He was called the wise. That sounds like the type of thing that the powerful call themselves, to fool the rest of us, doesn’t it?”

It truly did, so he let his head tilt side to side for a moment.

“He’s a good man, to be honest. Not prone to anger or making poor decisions. There’s a penalty that King Yarler agreed to, of ten percent of all goods and coin going to Istlan for ten years. That might change now, but if it does, it will be lessened, not increased. A lot of that was about preventing Yanse from attacking us again for a while. If Prince Alpert is in charge here, that might not be as large of an issue.”

The woman moved a strand of her hair out of the way, her pale face rosy at the cheeks. The rest was pulled back, into a long tail. He thought so, at least. Anders didn’t look at her all that hard. Not past making certain she wasn’t pulling a weapon or making ready to cast magic in his direction. No one walking was doing anything like that, though the conversation was about what they’d just seen.

The lady touched him on the arm, to get his attention. It was a bit off, given they weren’t familiar at all. Then, others were doing that with each other, so it could have simply been the habit there. Even with unfamiliar men.

“You know of this new Prince? The Regent?”

He nodded.

“I traveled with him and his wife, to Barquea, recently. I’ve spoken to him many times before that, since we both lived in the same building. His wife is Princess Aisla, from Barquea, hence going there. She recently had a child. A boy, Leopold.”

There was a pragmatic nod, and a few of the other people walking near them, clearly listening, seemed to agree with the idea.

“Oh? That’s good then. Barquea is a very civilized place, I hear? Perhaps having a wife from there will prevent too much violence from this Istlan fellow? They have a child, as well, which is a sign of a strong line, unless he’s old already?”

Anders shrugged, bored with the conversation and the stress of watching everyone as if they were secretly plotting to take his life. He did it, because it was needed, but it didn’t entertain him much. Which gave him an idea, if he wasn’t sent home in the next few days.

“About your age, plus a small few years?” He paused then, since he’d said that incorrectly. “A few years older, that is? I think he’s seen twenty-seven years. I don’t know when his birth season is, to be honest.” It hadn’t come up, so far.

“He’s not evil though, you think? Those women were going to be raped, and some of the soldiers and one of their war mages fought them, to stop that... Is that normal for Istlan people?”

It wasn’t, he didn’t think, but he nodded instantly.

“Yes. They’re just people. Not so different than you and yours. Not perfect, and the men were making a mistake, the other day, but you should be safe that way. At least to the same measure that you always have been.”

The woman seemed to relax then.

“In truth? That’s good to hear. The soldiers didn’t beat us earlier, or order us to go and watch the nobles being killed. It... We had to jeer them. It was too dangerous not to seem to support what was done. What if they did it to us? Istlan... They’re primitive people. We have all learned that, our entire lives. They are barbarians, who don’t use magic, even. Except... That giant man... I don’t...”

Anders spoke with no heat to his words.

He’d heard such things before, after all. From what he could see, Yanse and Istlan were actually very similar, in many ways. They worshiped similar gods, if under different names, for instance. The language was different, but clearly shared a common root source. Even the clothing was similar in style. They had kings and nobles, and their system, so far, hadn’t seemed too strange that way.

Meaning the big point was about magic.

“The people there, in Istlan, have recently changed their views that way, in regards to magic. Instead of fearing it, they are learning to accept it as a mere tool, now.” It wasn’t true, but if he told enough people that kind of thing, eventually it might be.

“Oh? That... makes some sense. They certainly used it in the battles, didn’t they? How did you come to live there? You’re from down south, in Yanse, right?”

The streets were filled with people, many of them simply standing and talking to one another, as they hit the edge of the city. It was a well built up place, and smelled, but no worse than any other large place he’d seen in that part of the world. Barquea had been better, but a lot of that was due to how dry it was in places. This place was, currently, made of stone, with cobbled roads of tan rock, and buildings with exposed timbers and more rock. There were wagons, some with goods, in different places, but it seemed to be too few for a large city.

Then, if he had a wagon in an occupied area, he would have hidden it and whatever he had to sell, as well.

“I’m from Istlan. From the castle there, in fact. Anders Brolly.”

The woman didn’t seem to recognize his name, but an older woman, walking close enough to hear them, growled at the mention of his name.

“The beast who slaughters armies?”

A lot of people looked at him then, and started to close, by a few steps. Sighing, he nodded.

“Yes. I wasn’t alone, but much of the carnage was caused by me. As was my duty. I hate war.” He didn’t really care that much about it, but it was the right thing to say. No one tried to stab him, at least.

A man from the side, lean and hard from work, as well as too old to be a levy, made a hard face.

“Aye, boy. We are ordered to go and do, for others, and get little choice in it. I’m sure that when you return to your land you’ll be lauded as a hero for the same things we fear and condemn. Not that we won’t do it, anyway, even if it isn’t fair.”

That got him to nod, as a strange, rather grand, building came into view. It literally had a small stream cascading over the roof, into waterfalls down the front, marking it as the temple he sought. There was walking to do in order to get to it, the place being decently large.

Glancing at the man, he grimaced.

“About in that vein. War itself is seldom fair, is it? We were attacked, without need or reason, so I came to fight, having some small skill with magics that helped. I had to go and do what I could to save my people. It was required, but doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate your people as well. As this man said, we are sent to war and have to do what we can.”

The original woman spoke again, her voice soft.

“Did the King truly go for the Istlan Prince? That sounds insane. I heard the announcement, but...” She looked nervous then, as if he might take umbrage at her suggestion that they’d been lied to. Which they had.

So, he corrected himself.

“It was far more complex than that. He’d threatened to rape and flay Prince Erold, in anger. I pushed him down with magic and told him to step lightly. Instead, he tried to kill me with a knife. An eating blade, since that was all he’d been allowed to keep. I made him explode as he came for me.”

No one spoke, so he went on.

“When I made the image of King Mathias, the giant? I tried to make the whole thing shorter, so it would be easier to understand. I didn’t really have a speech prepared, so... I probably should have just explained the whole thing.”

The elder woman cackled a bit then, bitterly.

“Nah... People will think what they want and telling them anything will just get them to assume you’re lying to them. The King died. It really doesn’t matter how it happened. We burning the body, do you think? Last time the King died we had a week of mourning. Men shaved their beards and heads and women covered their faces with ashes. King Medred. He died in bed, of a pox.”

Waving to the temple ahead, Anders tried to figure out what they wanted him to say.

“I’m going to find a religious leader from the area to see to the burial of the former King and his family. The ceremony. We bury people, in general, but we’ll probably do what you consider respectful, here. Do you want a week of mourning for the King?” He didn’t see a reason for that, but waited, which was a good thing, since everyone started to nod.

The blonde woman ducked her head then.

“That would be a comforting thing. A sign that Istlan won’t simply kill us all or take us to be their slaves. Not a week though. King Yarler lost in a war... Three days, perhaps?”

That seemed to be a popular time frame. A thing that, to their way of thinking, should begin at sundown, the next day. When they had the fires, to burn the bodies.

“I’ll suggest that then. It depends on if we can get a religious leader to help us or not.”

The lean fellow, rubbing at his great tan and yellow beard, with long white streaks in it, made a face.

“Yeh. You know how that type is. Offer him a few coins and let him boss some people around for his imaginary god and he’ll do what you tell him to, I suppose. You headed to the Followers of the Waters? I worship over at the Temple of Denog, the Earth God, myself. Farmer by trade, so I pay a bit to the waters, of course. Farmers need rain, as well as dirt. They’re fine with deaths, I suppose. All of them are.”

Again, everyone around him seemed to think that was well enough done, if he could make it happen. People started to pull off, though the blonde woman held pace with him, finally, when they were alone, being a bit more personal.

“I’m Verissa. My husband is the local cooper, for this area. I don’t suppose you have need for barrels, do you?”

It was a strange thing to ask, but after a moment, he nodded.

“Honestly, I might have use of a few, before I leave. He has a shop close by?”

“Two streets over. The sign is marked, so easy to find. That way?” She pointed, off to the side, down the street. “I should get back now, I suppose. It was good meeting you, Brolly. I hope all from Istlan will be so kind.”

He did too, but doubted that would really happen.

“Well met, Veritsa.” He stopped and bowed, ready to fight if it was needed. The lady bobbed back, showing she didn’t really know what to do that way, and walked away, not looking back as she did it.

He didn’t turn to look either, since he wasn’t planning on courting her and had no other reason to stare at her as she left, other than that. She wasn’t a high beauty, but had seemed kind enough, given who he was. Really, even the old woman who had growled at him had come around easily enough, given that.

Of interest, no one had seemed to be afraid of him, in particular. They hadn’t loved what he’d done, but seemed to understand, without asking, that he didn’t really go around killing for no reason. That they, not being against him in a battle, or coming at him with a blade, would be fine.

At least it seemed like that and he hoped it was the truth.

The temple of the Fellowship of the Waters was even more impressive, close up. There were six waterfalls on the front of the building, falling onto rocks, with a nice pond in the front of the place. There were things growing in that, and large fish with a bright golden color moving in the clear waters. There was a covered portion, but water came through it, in places, seemingly on purpose. You weren’t going up the stairs and then inside without getting wet, it seemed.

Which was annoying of them to have put in place, but did fit the theme, so he simply walked up the roughhewn stone steps and moved toward the vast, already opened, door. Inside the space were fires in places, to fight the chill and produce light. The roof was closed at the top, and the inside of the cavernous place had another pond, of all things. There was no place to sit, other than on the ground, which was covered with a sheen of liquid. A rather fussy seeming man scurried over to him, his blonde hair lank and darker than it would have been if dry. His clothing was blue, and light, sticking to the man’s thin frame in places.

“Brother! Have you come to give praise to the waters?”

Anders bowed, using first courtly, which had the man, seeming baffled, doing that back, bending in half, humbly, arms at his sides, like a commoner. Then, while they had bowing in Yanse, it was mainly kept to the nobles, who had their own secret fashion of doing that, just like Istlan had.

“I was sent to arrange funerals, for many people. The King is dead. King Yarler? His family as well. It’s a sad thing, but what comes from war. We’re to have three days of mourning, I think? It might be more than that. What would...” He looked around and shook his head. The place was strange an uncomfortable, but it had clearly taken some coin to make. That or magic. “I’m from Istlan, and don’t wish to give offense, but what would you like in return for arranging such things?”

The thin man simply bowed again and grinned.

“We don’t properly charge for such services, but, if it isn’t a hardship, a small bit of coin would be welcome, as a gift?”

Anders pulled his purse out, looked at what was inside, and nodded. Then he closed it and handed the whole thing to the man. It was only about ten gold, which was enough it seemed. Then, he wasn’t aware of just how many had died.

“There will be more. A gold for each person? I don’t wish to cheat you.”

That got a sigh, at least.

“The gift is normally a silver per person.”

Which was still pricey.

“This is the family of a King. Their lives were stolen from them before their natural time. I would like their way into whatever afterlife they believed in eased as much as it may be.” He hadn’t liked the King there, but the man was gone now. Being seen as kind that way was worth more to him than mere coins.

A thing that no one would probably understand or care about.

Chapter fifteen

Anders threw himself into the rites needed for the fallen King of Yanse, and his people. It would have been better if Prince Alpert could have been there, to retire the killer. To at least send him home, or into exile, instead of having him standing by, making a mockery of the entire thing. Instead, he paid nearly a hundred gold for an event that, in the end, didn’t sound that grand at all.

The Followers of the Water were able to build large fires, to rid them of the bodies, as was the custom there, and were willing to say pleasant words, to smooth things over with their god, and perhaps the restless spirits of those murdered for having the wrong blood in their veins.

In the end, before the fires could be started, the next day, he came up with a plan. It wasn’t really a big matter, being mainly illusion. A thing that would probably be gaudy and inappropriate. Still, he was in charge of the event, so worked it out with the priest of the Water, or whatever the man called himself. Brother seemed to work, though he’d never given a personal name at all.

Everyone seemed to be avoiding him while he worked, which, oddly, Farad thought he understood. It was what he’d have done in the same place, and was, with some of the others. Those who had been in the battles were all on edge and seemed either angry or nearly too tired to go on. Of all the magic users, only Depak and Hoatha were immune to that, with Prince Erold holding up better than the rest. Salina was being very quiet but throwing herself into building things outside the city, to practice. Grand palaces and a small walled compound, that didn’t seem to have a real purpose.

It was lovely, however. A thing that made Anders smile, when he finally got over to see it. The workmanship was flawless, as far as he could tell. It had running water and proper indoor toilets, of a kind that he’d only seen in Barquea. The walls were covered with complex patterns, even in the dwellings that seemed to be designed for soldiers. The rooms for the servants were easily three times the space that Anders had at home, even. He was touring the place, on his own, when he ran into her, and managed to smile. She didn’t do it back, but after a few moments she waved at him.

“I was thinking that those sent by King Mathias could stay here? It’s not too far from the proper castle, without being them having to stay in the walls of that place, if they don’t wish to.”

She glanced at the walls, not looking at him at all.

“Ah? It’s wonderful. Very well done, in fact. I’ll need you to show me how to do what you have here with the privies. I have the basic idea, and some spells for it, but not everything.”

She simply snorted at him, and winked. It was the first playful thing he’d seen since the last battle.

“I can do that. Finally, I get to know something you haven’t already mastered? That’s fun, isn’t it? There’s to be a funeral, later?”

He nodded, since the time was closing in for that, already. There was a field, about a mile from the castle, that was prepared for that.

“I need to get ready for it, in fact. You should attend, with the others? I know, it’s a grim task, and I at least won’t be welcome, but...”

She closed her eyes.

“It’s cowardly of me, but I’m tempted to hide from it. I’ll be there though, ready to be attacked and reviled for my part in this. So far... Well, no one has tried to speak to me, other than a few of the soldiers, asking if I was available to take trade.” Her words were dry, but her lips quirked. “I was very surprised when I learned what they really meant by that. They were all polite, when I explained that I was here for magic, not for that. A few tried to give me gifts instead, which is always nice to have. Flowers and some pretty stones?”

“Ah? That... I think that must be part of being a woman, truly. Men have to try to marry and all that, and women do the selecting. That’s me ignoring the first portion. I don’t know what to do about that. Probably nothing. I mean, they asked if you were open to trade that way. They didn’t force you or even insist more than is normal?”

She glared at him, but smiled at the end of the moment.

“No, that’s true, they didn’t. I’m simply not used to being put to such questions, so openly. At any rate, I’m fine, which I think is what you were really asking of me?”

He nodded, not actually being able to care. Still, he pretended to, which had to be nearly as good, in the moment.

“Now, I need to change. My clothing. To tidy and then meditate, before the rite takes place. I have some small illusions planned. I hope it’s taken well.”

Again, he didn’t hope that at all, but the words tumbled out anyway. Even if they were lies.

She simply pointed at an open door.

“Use the side room? I need to work up some furnishings for this place. It’s going to... Take a few days, I think. Maybe more than that. Do you have any idea when we’re going back? I...”

He understood.

“I’d like to leave as well. Nothing against the people here, but I keep thinking that they’re going to turn on me at any moment. Not that I can blame them. They hear my name and have to assume that their son, or nephew died at my hand. Possibly their daughter or husband.”

The woman simply nodded, her face gentle. Almost sad.

“I keep seeing the faces of the poor men I killed. It was at war and had to be done, but I would wish for a better way.”

He would too, if it could make a difference at all.

Walking into the other room, he found a large tub there, a pool under a waterfall. The water was cold, but refreshing, so he cleaned himself with a spell, then washed, since it was familiar to him and left him feeling cleaner, for some strange reason. Then he dried with more magic, using an old spell variation that took water from his skin.

“Andersana lod wo, ere ot neg, fen ot...” He didn’t have to wait too long, streamers of liquid moving from his skin to the small washing pool, since that drained constantly. The ring of stone was interesting and decorative, while seeming very natural in certain aspects.

The water in the air twisted a bit, writhing around the others of its kind, joining into one, at the end point. When nothing more came off of him, he ended the spell.

“Fen.”

Then he cleaned the rest of the way, and dressed himself again, in rich looking velvet and silk, all in black, that being the color of death there in Yanse.

It was in Istlan, as well. Interestingly, the color for that was white, in Barquea. In Modroc, it was red, or so he thought. He looked fine, probably. He combed his short hair, but didn’t have a looking glass, and wouldn’t know how to use it for that purpose if one was on the wall. His hair was straight, and not in the way. That was enough, for him.

When he went out, Salina was gone, so he walked the near mile down the main road, to the field where the bodies had already been placed on large piles of logs. The gray sky started to drop water on them, which he ignored, since that wouldn’t be important to him. No one was watching him, so he bowed, toward the pyres, one by one. There were twenty-seven of them, matching the number of the dead from the execution, the day before. Plus, one for the remains of the King. What they could scrape up of that.

“I’m sorry. I wish things could have been different.” He meant that, at least for most of the people. He didn’t feel bad about King Yarler at all, of course. The man had probably wanted to die. It wasn’t lost on him that the man had gone for the Warbow, who he knew for a fact had killed large portions of his army, in his own person.

If he’d gone for Prince Erold, the guards would have reacted instantly. By going for him, they’d paused, instead of grabbing Yarler, before he could stand up. Not that Erold wouldn’t have been able to make him explode. He’d killed many in battle as well. They all had done their part. Anders had done more, but that was fitting. He didn’t need his friends to be like he was. A monster unfit to be with others.

As dusk began to fall, people started to show up. The priest and his ten helpers were already there, but men and women riding on horses and in carriages arrived, before those on foot did. Then the public came, each dressed in their nicest clothing, cleaned and tidied as well as possible, with at least a bit of black showing.

When Prince Erold arrived, with the other mages of Istlan and Barquea, they rode in a brown carriage, with three others following. Behind them were at least a thousand soldiers, marching in time with one another. The act was impressive, even if they looked dingy and hard used.

That went away, since he had a plan for that. Honestly, he hadn’t figured that anyone would be coming at all, so he copied an illusion that he’d seen once, with some small changes. Illian Darca had covered a larger group of men with the seemings of large green monsters. Anders simply made the men look tidy, in red and black uniforms, with gleaming metal on their heads, all matching, even if most didn’t have helm at all. Originally, he’d been planning to make a fake army march up, having forgotten the knights, totally.

The knights were made to shine, their painted armors made brighter and without dent, when he could manage it. It was a lot to hold at once, but he managed it. At the same time, there was a sound of mighty horns, playing as if from the very hillsides, miles away. It was loud enough that everyone noticed it happening, with many of them turning to look that direction, as they lined up or got out of their fine carriages.

Anders nearly lost the entire illusion when the group in the last carriage in the line got out. There were two men and two women. The fellows looked decently fit, with a nice amount of muscle all over their tan bodies. He could tell, because they appeared to be wearing only underpants. That and short cloaks which weren’t at all warm enough for the environment they were in. The clothing was bright, being red and deep turquoise in color.

The women were, at least in proper dresses, which went all the way to their ankles. They were in bright colors as well, though more of those. The only issue that Anders had at all was that they ladies, one old enough to have gray hair, the other likely no older than Salina, both had their breasts pressed up from underneath and totally exposed.

All of them had rather tall, fairly decorative, headdresses on. Bedecked with dangling beads and in a few cases, bright feathers.

He had to block them out, totally, to focus on his plans.

A slow and mournful song started to play, coming from the distance again. Without him having to motion to the man, the hired priest moved forward and began to speak, his voice loud, but calm, at the same time.

“Oh Lord of the Waters, take your good servants to your embrace, for they are good and worthy of such. Please allow them the rest they deserve and in turn, keep them from the strife that this world once held for them.” He went on.

For a rather long time. Finally, he waved to the fires, which wouldn’t light, the rain they all stood in making that too difficult. It was hard to hold the music and the images over the fighting men, as well as dry the wood at the same time, but he did it, and then, before he could risk the whole thing collapsing, Daren and Jeld, both in uniforms of black, moved from pyre to pyre. They bowed, going low at each one, and lit it, using covert hand signs.

They were so covert about it that it was hard to tell they were the ones doing the magic. As the fires grew, so did the music, which seemed to come closer, as if an invisible band was marching toward them. As the fires burned, they all stood there, as night fell, waiting.

It was hard to make up new music, all of it having to sound sad and slow. Everything he’d done before, all of it, was totally wrong for the venue of the moment.

Still, after six hours, in the middle of the night, the soldiers were led away. They were followed by the knights, who had the people from the city, in their thousands, behind them. Marching, nearly, as if part of the official happening there.

The Fellows of the Water stayed, and planned to, well into the next day, until the last of the fires went cold. Then they’d collect the bones that remained, and place them with care in the crypt below the castle. Rather, the servants would do that, after they were delivered. The music played on, since they had Princes still in attendance, not having left yet. Princesses as well. Also, the mainly naked people, who had to be freezing, in their strange and revealing clothing.

Anders dried himself, since the work of the last hours had left him covered in sweat, and breathing hard. Moving only to holding the music was a relief. When he was clean again, a thing done covertly, he moved to the remaining people, instead of standing away and behind where the priest had spoken from. His goal was to go and stand by Hoatha and Daren, as well as the others he knew there, but he was summoned instead, with a wave, by one of the ladies in the strange dresses.

The younger one, who locked eyes with him, rather firmly.

“You are the one called Anders Brolly?”

He bowed, hoping they weren’t going to fight. If so, the lady had the advantage over him. After all, he was going to be distracted by her, no matter what he did. As it was, he had to focus his mind enough, using the music for that, to probably seem rude.

“I am. I fear I don’t have your name, yet, Miss?”

“Nona Hethdrinia. I’m the Ambassador to this place, from Minoa, across the great sea.” She waved, to the east, so that he’d get the idea. He vaguely recognized the name of the place, from having seen maps, but that was all.

“So nice to meet you, Ambassador Hethdrinia.” He had a feeling he was supposed to say more, but nothing came to mind. No one walked over to bail him out, either.

The woman smiled at him, her face damp, from the rain. The cold seemed to bother her, and the rest of her group, so Anders muttered a spell to warm the air around them, not considering that it might be rude to do that without asking first. Thankfully, one of the men nodded to him and smiled.

It took work to do that, but not as much as holding a thousand illusions. That really hadn’t been as hard as all of that, since it was really only five illusions, made to look like a thousand men, some horses and men in armor. Still, it hadn’t been much fun to hold for six hours.

The Ambassador, with the strange and foreign name, dipped her head to him.

“Would you be available, in the morning, for a consultation? I fear my husband is ill with some difficulties. They happen in travel, but your friend Hoatha suggested that I ask after you for such matters?”

That was interesting, but he nodded. Ganges could have seen to it himself, and probably done a better job of it, but for some reason had sent them to Anders. That could mean almost anything, of course. Hoatha, Ganges, was almost certainly seeing things that were totally outside of what Anders or Farad would be able to understand, lacking context and exposure to similar things.

Still, leaving the man in pain or discomfort wasn’t a good thing to do, so he nodded.

“Are you at the castle here?” He hadn’t seen them there, or heard of strange, mainly naked, people being there, either. Then, if the king you were visiting died, and you couldn’t flee back home, staying out of sight might be a very good idea.

Especially if others, of unknown intent, had marched and then made the man’s head and upper body explode.

The lady, her accent rather thick and odd, with a lilt that spoke of certain letters not being used in her own tongue, closed her eyes, and held the move.

“That is correct. You will come?”

“Of course. At first light, if I can gain entry? That isn’t assured, of course.” It wasn’t his home and there was no other reason for him to be going there, other than to see to some, hopefully, basic healing. Loose bowels or an aching middle.

The words had the woman turning away then, clearly dismissing him, by not paying any attention to him after that. Different places had different ways, so he simply walked over to his friends, who were milling around a bit, moisture not falling on them, as long as they stayed near Depak Sona. There was an invisible dome over him, about ten paces across, that shed the rain, off to the sides. The edge of that space was pretty damp, but after he pressed through the curtain of water, he was fine again. The pyres hissed, but stayed hot enough to consume the bodies.

There was a scent, like roast pig, in the air. Worse, after hours of holding magics, he was hungry. The idea left him feeling ill, but didn’t keep his middle from growling. It was loud enough that several of the others looked at him, as if he were being a true monster, responding to the burning corpses like that.

Still, half an hour later, the other people started to leave. Prince Erold simply waited though, even as the night wore on, with no one to see what they were doing. It wasn’t until a very long time later, as the sky began to grow light, that he and the others climbed into their carriages, to go back to where they were staying. Anders simply walked away, working out his own anti-rain spell, as he did that, heading toward the castle, since there was a man there, in discomfort.

He honestly expected to be turned away from the gate, but the guards there both straightened, and nodded to him.

“Master Brolly.” They moved out of his way, as he waved in their direction, trying not to seem like he was about to fall asleep on his feet.

At the door, the same thing happened, as if he belonged there. He was called by name, the soldiers acting as if it was only natural for him to be allowed entrance. Inside, there were men stationed in every hallway and large space. He simply stopped and smiled at one of the men.

“I need Ambassador Hethdrinia’s space? Her husband seems to have fallen ill.”

The man didn’t ask who he meant, at least.

“North wing. All the fine types not from here are in that direction. I don’t know which room specifically, but I did hear that one of them was sick.” He pointed, hopefully in the right direction.

There were more guards, but Anders helped himself, simply following the sounds of moaning. A low thing, that seemed pained. Enough so that he felt mildly annoyed no one had called for him earlier. Feeling like he should have done this the day before, he found the correct door, a very nicely carved and brightly painted picture of a forest, in greens and browns, with the occasional bit of red and blue, he knocked. That took place several times, before one of the men from the day before opened it, smiling hugely.

“Fovin? Netha vorin. Vorin!”

It was a language Anders had never heard before, but he could make out from the waving that he was invited in. It was just the man on the door, who had clearly been tending to the other, who was on a large, comfortable seeming bed, in wet clothing, hair and face drenched with sweat.

On the good side, the man had clearly been given water. There was a pitcher on the tall table next to the bed, with a pillow there, on the floor. Also a cup, next to the water. Anders simply moved over to the man, fearing the red fever or other ailment. A thing he didn’t know how to handle at all.

Instead of that, when he dropped into a trance and touched him with his mind, the answer was very different. It took him a while to understand what he was looking at, since he searched for signs of infection and swelling, as well as inflammation, first. Heat in the head, which wasn’t there, for instance. It wasn’t until he turned his attention to the man’s middle, that he was able to work it out.

There, inside of him, were thousands of tiny creatures. Worms, or something like them, moving and attacking the man, from the inside out. Just enough to cause great pain though, not kill him. After the wave of nausea passed, Anders looked around, found an empty chamber pot and brought it near the bed. Then he focused on the man, who was a bit older, and writhing enough that it was going to be hard to pull the creatures from inside of him. Then, the man was shifting, not running away at full speed.

He took a deep breath.

“Hom denut li bestle uffa, lod ere ot ere, fen ot...”

It took half a moment for the tiny creatures to pass through the flesh of the prone man, and pointing to cause them to float into the clay chamber pot. That vessel, fired and glossy blue on the outside, with a faded rough texture to it, filled with writhing white things. The other man, not expecting what was happening, had to move back and visibly fought becoming violently ill. Anders could feel that for himself, but focused harder, to prevent that.

For nearly ten minutes, he traced out where the things were, inside of the man. Then he took them out, the receptacle rapidly filling, dangerously close to the top. It was so disgusting he nearly had to stop, before all the things were gone. As it was, he had to set the first chamber pot on the floor and grab the other one, without releasing the spell. That one was filled a little less than half way, the man on the bed still moaning, and visibly thinner across the middle.

There was more work to do, but first, since nothing was coming out any longer, through the wall of the stomach, Anders nodded.

“Fen.”

Then he had to fix the internal damage. Swelling, pain and inflammation had to be taken away, as well. Those three things were almost a constant, with illness and injury, Anders noticed. There were some things that he’d treated with only those concepts, which had helped people greatly and allowed them to heal. Since the internal damage wasn’t going to kill the man, even if it was a raw mess, inside, he didn’t heal the convoluted internal structures. That could lead to scarring or taxing the man too much, given his stressed state.

Not wanting to touch the pots again, he picked the full one up, as the man on the bed start to try and sit up. Anders had to set the pot down, and press the mainly naked man back down, smiling.

“You’re still injured. Stay here and lie down?”

The man got the idea, it seemed, if not the words.

Then, causing the chamber pots to float, he wandered out into the castle, not being stopped by any of the guards there, seeking a back entrance, so that he could dump the disgusting things. It took about twenty minutes, and even then, he wouldn’t have managed it at all, if he hadn’t happened upon a rather sleepy looking page, sitting in an alcove. A rather familiar one.

So, he smiled.

“Page Walden? I could use a bit of help, if you have some time?”

The boy hopped up, seeming ready to work, even if he did glance at the floating pots, first.

“What do you have there? Some kind of... noodles?”

Wincing, Anders shook his head.

“Not at all. No, these are worms, taken from the body of Ambassador Hethdrinia’s husband. Want to look?” It was disgusting, but the kid peek in, moving closer.

“Ew. So, you need to dump these?”

“Exactly. I’m not sure where to go with them, though. Some kind of garbage pile or something, that won’t ever be used at fertilizer for food?”

The kid, seeming friendly enough, waved for him to follow.

“I know the right spot for that. A healer came and took them out? I... Our healers all ran away, when you Istlan folks came. That’s a lot of worms. They were inside of him?”

Anders walked, the floating containers in front of him, holding pace with him perfectly.

“Right. He still needs to heal, but I couldn’t speak with him, not knowing the language. Could you get with the kitchen and ask for him to be sent only gentle foods? Mush and unspiced things. Mashed and cooked soft fruits? His middle will hurt for a while.”

The kid was making good time, walking with a purpose, his purple and gold fringed uniform top looking pretty official. Anders was in black still, being the same outfit he’d worn to the funeral.

Walden paused, to open a large door, letting them move into the space behind the castle proper. It was a large and nicely arranged flower garden. The door was closed carefully behind them, before the kid spoke.

“I can arrange that. With the food? My mother works in the kitchen. She isn’t high up or anything, but it’s a pretty good job. We’re lucky, being taken in here, after Father died, two years ago. I mean, do you get to live in a castle?” There was a jesting tone to the words, which carried, even across languages.

“I do, oddly enough. It’s a little bit like with you. My mother is... Well, technically she’s a spy. My father, I’m a bastard, so I didn’t have a father, growing up. I know the man, and it wasn’t his choice, but that’s not a great thing, in Istlan.”

The boy glanced at him, but wasn’t sneering or seeming mean at the news. Not even a bit.

“That’s to the shame of the mother and father, not the child. We don’t really look down on anyone for that. Still, they didn’t send you away or anything? That’s not too bad. I wouldn’t have the life that I do, if King Yarler hadn’t told them to get my mother in here. The head butler asked for that.” He sighed then. “That will change now. The new Regent will bring his own staff and I’ll have to figure out how to get coin for my mother and I. That... I’m too young for a real job. I don’t know what to do, really.”

The boy didn’t slow his pace, until they got to a large hole in the ground, that was deep and filled with various rotting things. The perfect place for the contents of the pots. They were dumped in, by hand, and then the last few worms removed with magic, the younger boy smiling at him.

“I know, I should learn magic like that. Those types, the ones who can do that are all rich. It’s hard to get training though. I have the basic gift, but even living here I can’t make that happen. How did you learn?”

Anders thought about that for a second, then moved back, toward the castle, having some pots to return.

“You know, I got really lucky. I was put in as a room servant for a magician, from Barquea. He taught me some things, and I was able to keep learning more, after that. Now I teach people that kind of thing, part of the time.” He shrugged then. “I can show you some things? Enough to get you started. I might have to leave at any time, but even learning a little is a start.”

Walden simply gave him a serious look.

“I don’t have a lot of coin. None, really.”

“That’s fine. I don’t charge anyone for that, as long as they try hard to learn. If you’ll do that, I’ll teach you what I can.”

They both agreed to that, which was more work for Anders, but nothing he couldn’t do.

Chapter sixteen

When he finally got back to the little house he was staying in with the others, which wasn’t that small, if he was being honest, there was a strange woman there. Not that he didn’t get who it was, after a half second or two.

“Saffron? This is a different look for you. Very nice.”

The woman smiled. Looking like a regular lady, if one with scales, pale green and white at the throat and darker on the backs of her hands and arms, with yellow hair that honestly was saffron in hue, and rather ordinary brown eyes, smiled at him. Her nose was flat, but still just a nose, not a few slits.

She nodded, her face seeming interested in him, for some reason.

“Well, the war is over, so Ganges decided that I could probably go with this look, for the time being. It might make it easier for me to get a husband, or so the idea goes. So far you’re the first person to compliment me on my looks.” She looked at him from the side of her eyes, which was a coy look, to Farad. A thing from his own youth, but not one that Istlan really used, for some reason.

“Say, you aren’t married, are you?”

There was a time when he would have blushed and stammered about being asked that. Honestly, part of him wanted to do that in the moment, to be honest about the idea. Anders, the boy, buried that deep down, stifling Farad for a moment, winking at the woman.

“I’m not married yet, no. I’m a bit too young for that still, but no harm in discussing the idea, for later?”

The woman, who looked to be part dragon, at the very least, didn’t pretend they were playing even.

“Good! We should do that. Now... I’m really just walking around and talking to people. That being you and my great-great grandfather. No one else speaks the right language for me here, yet. I should learn, but no one who can has volunteered to take the time, so far.”

That was rather pointed, since, as mentioned, there were only two of them there who had the right language to communicate with her at all.

Rather than go and nap for a while, which was tempting to do, or eat, which would be needed soon, Anders nodded at the woman.

“Please, sit.”

Then the two of them worked at learning Istlan for six hours, not stopping until Ganges found them, and cleared his throat.

“It’s time to eat? We don’t have anything prepared yet, so Prince Erold suggested we beg Anders to do that for us. I can help with that, so it isn’t all about abusing you, but the food we have here is yours, so it was deemed polite to ask after that?”

He stood up, needing to move, and to break out of the trance he was in. He’d fed Saffron words in two languages, but also described to her how to think of each one, and how to arrange it in the hall of memory. That meant they’d covered three words per minute, giving the woman about a thousand words of Istlan. Not the spellings or particular tricks in using it, but those rules were relatively simple, compared to just learning what sounds meant what.

Yawning, he waved to Saffron.

“At this pace it will take about a week for you to master Istlan. At least if we work on this after the meal, as well. Then we’ll work on Yansian. I need to learn Doran, as well, soon. There’s likely to be a war in that direction in a month or so.” He had to repeat some of the words, and help her learn them, as they came up, but there was a grin from Ganges.

“Certainly. A week for her to learn a new language. You do know that most people take years for that kind of thing, don’t you? Is that your plan for the time being? Cooking and teaching Saffron?”

Anders made a considering face, but shook his head.

“Page Walden contracted some magic lessons, so there’s that as well. He knows that I’ll be leaving in a few weeks, but learning a little is better than not learning anything.”

He was speaking in Istlan, and had to stop again, to go over what everything meant. He did it right, even as they moved to the other room, the woman placing each new thing in the hall of memory. Their kitchen was outside, as it was, being a nice earthen stove and oven. He had to collect fuel for that, which Saffron and Hoatha both aided with. When he actually started to fix the food, Daren and Jeld came over. There was no sign of Depak, Erold or Salina.

Daren knew that, and volunteered the information, without hesitation.

“Prince Erold asked for Depak Sona and Princess Salina to aid him in negotiations with the people from Minoa. The ones with the... Um, interesting clothing, from last night? Apparently, it’s much warmer where they come from, so they tend not to wear much. I was planning to find some material and make a gift of fine clothing to them. That... Well, I’m not certain that it’s my place, as a mere servant.”

Anders didn’t know either, but Ganges snorted.

“You’re going to hold to the illusion that you’re a servant still? That’s dangerous. You’re a mighty war mage, Daren Willet. I’m not suggesting that as a jest either. You, in your own person, could potentially stop entire armies. Pretend to humility, if it serves you, but don’t forget what you truly have become. That can lead to errors, or even death.”

He waved a bit at Anders then.

“King Yarler made a mistake like that, with Anders and many died for his not appreciating who he was dealing with. From the sound of it, he would have died shortly anyway, making threats against Erold, as if he were a mere boy to be held hostage... Still, that was a King, in his own kingdom. One defeated, but if it had been you there, instead of Anders, do you think that King Mathias would have reacted any differently? I think not. There is a man who holds to decent levels of wisdom.” The man grinned and waved at Daren then.

“Not that you should let power go to your head. It gives you options others don’t have, but you aren’t truly better than anyone else, either.”

Daren, humbly, ducked his head.

“Thank you for the instruction, Hoatha.”

The words got a chuckle, but no more lecturing. Not that the information was incorrect.

Anders simply shrugged.

“I need to thaw this deer meat, and cut it into strips. Saffron, Daren, why don’t you help me with this?” He spoke in Istlan still and arranged a work space, on a counter top, next to the oven. That needed to be started first thing, but Hoatha did that, without needing to be told how, or asking what was required.

They worked at making meat smaller, for cooking, chopping vegetables and making flat bread. He’d managed to keep his yeast mother alive, somehow, so used half of that to produce enough bread to feed all of them plus a few others.

The whole time they worked, he covered what they were doing, the reason behind it and how the words were placed together, for Saffron. They had some time, because hungry or not, it took about two hours to get the stove and oven hot enough for use, and all the food ready. The others walked up, eventually, clearly having come from the castle, about a mile away.

They had a table for eating, inside, and for once managed to get there before the rain started. Everyone had to get their own bowls, but they were at war, so no one whined too much about not having the comforts they were used to. Not even Salina, which was refreshing.

Though, he had to admit, the woman hadn’t been too bad, once the other girls had left them. Not really. A bit, at times, but in the main she’d simply worked, like the rest of them.

She moved in next to him, when they sat, her shoulder touching his, for a moment.

“Say, Prince Anders? Ambassador Nona was very impressed with the healing you did on her first husband, earlier. What do you want in return for that? She begged me to find out, not having realized what the problem was, and the high magics which would be needed to fix it. She mentioned sending home for riches to compensate you, for your efforts. She wasn’t jesting, either. This seems fairly important to her.”

He stopped for a moment, then blinked.

“You know, tell her that it’s a gift, from the new Regent. Prince Alpert? To impress her with the friendliness of Istlan. We need to ply them with some gifts, to that end as well. Perhaps some warmer clothing? Daren, you mentioned that portion of things?”

The man had just taken a bite, of stew, and had to finish the chewy meat, so took a moment before speaking.

“I did. As you said, a gift, from Istlan. Something colorful, though? Maybe in a similar style to what they are used to, but with more coverage? Against the weather, of course. Anders, you could make them some of your heavy cloaks?”

He nodded, that being a good idea.

“I’ll do that. Some others might need that kind of thing. Probably not for the summer, but after that. Is that plan appropriate, Prince Erold? We don’t want to overstep, but people traveling shouldn’t be hit with vast expenses, if we can limit them.”

There was a nod, with a bite of flat bread, which wasn’t set down. They were all doing that, since they didn’t have plates. If you wanted stew, you had to have the top of the bowl free, which meant holding the bread.

When he spoke, it was considering.

“Get in touch with the Regent on that? I’m sure it’s fine, but that way we can honestly say that he arranged for it, in his own person. I haven’t asked after what’s going on that way, over the last few days. Things take time, but I’ve been busily sitting and talking to people, who need me to comfort them, in the main. Things have been hard for many, lately.”

Anders understood the reason for the words, so didn’t bother acting affronted by the idea. A few of the others stiffened a bit, as if insulted by their own place in the story. At least the perception of it. Rather than start a fight, he took a deep breath.

“Right. Page Walden mentioned some of that, earlier. He works at the castle. The red-headed boy?”

Erold nodded.

“I’ve had the pleasure. He’s hard working, and reliable.”

“Also learning magic, starting in the morning. Can you put the word out on that, so it’s official? I’m going there for that. If anyone else there wants to try and has the basic talent, we can do that as well. I know, it’s dangerous, teaching a former enemy our tricks, but if you always treat people as an enemy, they’ll stay one.”

Ganges looked at him for a long while, then nodded.

“Agreed, Farad. Anders, I mean. You sounded like him, just then, but I’ve been told that isn’t how the crystals work. We should all seek to busy ourselves, in the coming days. There will be a lull in what is needed of the army, which, if not filled, will mean that troubles begin. The men aren’t allowed to rape, so will be growing desperate for female attention. I haven’t looked into the whore situation here. Have any of you?”

Daren blushed a bit, but spoke anyway.

“It isn’t a common thing here. They have some, but it’s considered a very low occupation. I mean, criminal, like cutpurses or killers, not just a job some look down on a bit.”

No one mentioned as to how he’d learned all that, simply accepting it as being real enough. It wasn’t a thing for them to worry over, officially, but the point of having the army being occupied was a good one. They needed to rest and heal, but their forces were in good shape, compared to what most were like, after several hard battles. There had been a few who were so injured they couldn’t be soldiers any longer, but it was a small handful, only. They hadn’t had any real losses to illness yet, either. That was down to the fact that they had decent sanitation, so far.

Depak tapped his chin for a few moments, then looked at Jeld.

“We could work on improving the water system for Amtha here? The infrastructure was well planned, but it’s leaking in places due to time. Some of the army could aid with that, perhaps?”

It clearly wasn’t their task to see to the occupation of others, but trying to be helpful wasn’t a horrible idea, either. The others spoke on those topics, for a while, as Anders simply ate. A lot. Enough that he felt like he was going to pop. Instead of scolding him for his greed, Depak glanced at him and smiled.

“Good. You need to keep eating more. All of us do, for the time being. We can’t let ourselves become weak and are burning massive amounts of energy.”

Princess Salina rolled her eyes, but had more bread, making a face at the idea of eating more. The others just ate, which was good enough, it seemed. No one spoke about that again, thankfully. Standing, he cleaned the table, using magic, and then removed his bowl, ready to work with Saffron again.

She however, had other things to do. What that was didn’t get mentioned, but it was an hour later when she came back and sat on the floor.

“Forgive the time. Things...”

Nature called for all of them, so he didn’t make a point of worrying over it. Just working, walking her through each word, helping to memorize it quickly. After three more hours, it still being daylight out, he called a halt to the learning for the day.

“I need to make the late meal, soon. First, I have some other work to see to, so, we’ll meet in the morning, after I come back from the castle? Let’s call that noon, actually?”

Saffron gave him a blank look, then laughed.

“This is a lot to learn, in a short time. Also, the language of a different land than the one we are in. Why is that?”

He had a real reason for that, so shared it, openly, with her.

“That way you’ll be able to talk to us. Not the locals. You’re far more likely to join our side if we’re the ones that don’t poke you with sticks and can understand you, don’t you think?”

“I see! Yes, that is very wise. At noon, tomorrow, then? Here?”

He agreed on that, and she left then, even if he was sitting in the shared front room of their shared dwelling. On the floor, since they didn’t have real furnishings. Beds, but not much else. Not even pillows to sit on. That was down to the fact that no one knew if they were going to be ordered to leave the next day, or were staying for longer. Anders sort of wanted to improve the roads heading north, if at all possible. Rather, he didn’t want to do it, but if Dora attacked, having the ability to bring goods in was going to be needed. The same was true of moving troops quickly.

At the same time, he didn’t want to make excellent roads for Doran forces to use to invade them, so asking about that before just going and doing was a good idea. At least he hoped so. Still, working out what he wanted to ask about, directly from the new Regent, he worked out who he wanted to contact for that.

After a moment, he nodded to himself, and checked, to make sure Princess Mathia was available at the moment. She didn’t notice him watching her, being in conversation with a set of women that he didn’t know, but did vaguely recognize from his life at the castle. They were having tea. He didn’t pry into what they were discussing, deciding to bother the Princess anyway.

She was new to the communications magic, but if it took her a while to write everything out, that was fine with him.

The girl did take a while to contact him, about an hour, but when she spoke in his ear, seeming a trace formal but very much like herself, he realized that he’d made a mistake.

“Anders! Prince Alpert is already in route. He left three days ago. Princess Aisla is here, with Leopold. Father asked for a full report from there, if possible? This will repeat five times.”

It did, which was fine, being short.

The mistake was that, while he had a special magical name for Alpert, in case he needed to contact him, he’d never done that kind of thing with the man, directly. Plus, he couldn’t reply, in his own person. Anders could read his mind, but the man might just not want that to happen.

Which was going to be a problem, at least possibly.

Also, he was just asked to do even more work. Which wasn’t going to get done faster, by not doing it. So, instead of whining about it, he planned out a full report, created the spell and sent it to both Alpert and Mathia. Then he waited, monitoring his father, in case the reaction was one of anger or suspicion.

Instead, the man, who was already camping for the night, scrambled to get a pen and paper, and wrote the whole report down. He missed half of it, so Anders sent it again, two more times. That was enough, thankfully.

Then he waited, the man making a point to think about what his receiving such a thing directly might mean. It wasn’t a focus on the violation of his thoughts, as Anders would have expected. Instead, it was a sense that his son, Anders, hadn’t done that before. Which could have been either the boy telling him that he was fine with his younger half sibling being named heir to Yanse, or, in a different way, could have been him showing how important he was, claiming that right for himself.

A thing that even King Mathias had nearly called into being.

For his part, Anders had never even considered the idea at all. He marked the thought, for discussion at a later date, but set that aside, and sent off his original group of questions about what Prince Alpert wanted done.

Doing that actually took up the rest of the evening, since the Prince had some real ideas, but needed more information about what was happening on the ground there. That meant sending seven different, if shorter, messages to the man, who took notes on the data, as if they were in a meeting. Anders didn’t have all the information, so had to make his own notations, so that he could query people about a host of things, in the morning.

There were things that the man felt would be needed, that he rather dreaded. Such as purging the castle of any workers with loyalties to the old king, as well as doing the same, in a more violent fashion, with the nobles and advisors who remained. On the nice side, they weren’t doing that work before he arrived.

Except that Anders understood the need to act in some cases, before those same people could escape, to come back at them later, with a fresh army in tow. It wasn’t an issue that day, thankfully.

In the meantime, Alpert liked the plans to give gifts to the foreign Ambassadors there, which he wished Anders to see to, if possible. Asking for that was loaded, in his mind, with ten layers of subtext or more. He wasn’t at all certain that he wasn’t going to ride up with his men, to find that Anders had named himself king there. If that happened, he was under orders to find a way to gain his trust, not to fight him out of the position.

Anders, feeling a bit amused, sent one final message back.

“I’m not currently seeking a new position. I have the rest of the information and will pass it to those who need it, I’ll be in touch as required, over the next days.” He wanted to make the last part a question, but they didn’t really have the luxury of not being in touch, if Prince Alpert wasn’t going to take offense at his messaging him directly.

He slept well, that night, being exhausted as he was. If he dreamed, he didn’t recall it when he stood up in the morning. That was fine, since refighting battles was a boring way to spend his valuable sleep time.

After cleaning up, changing his clothing, though wearing a black arm band to show that he was in mourning for the old King and his family. Even if doing that was hypocritical of him, Anders headed over to the castle. He was hungry, but stopping to eat first would mean starting a fire, then digging the food out and so forth. When he got into the large stone building, the guards, once again, acting as if he belonged there, he had to search around for Page Walden.

It was tempting to simply call out and demand the boy find him, but screaming in a place where over half the people would be sleeping still seemed inconsiderate. So, instead, he fixed the image of the boy in his mind, dropped into a trance and walked to where he was sitting. That, interestingly, was in a back room, off the kitchen. It was a small space, with room for ten people to eat, if they were careful not to bump into the walls around them. There though, sitting at the back, with six other people, was Page Walden. The boy waved at him.

“This is my friend, Anders. I told you, Mother? The boy who offered to teach me magic?”

A woman, one who didn’t seem that much older than Salina, if even that old, let her face shift slightly. The woman had fiery red hair, and a mass of freckles that broke the pale flesh up a lot, otherwise. Her look was concerned, at first, but instead of dealing with her, one of the men, an old fellow with a pure white beard and a bald head, over a slightly beefy body, frowned at him.

“I don’t know if the new King will allow that. We can’t risk angering him, before he even arrives.”

That was sensible enough, so Anders shrugged.

“I spoke to him last night on that very topic. Magically? Anyway, I had to vouch for Walden, personally. Prince Erold gave a recommendation for you as well, earlier, with King Mathias.” He looked at the boy for that part, then turned back to the man, who seemed grumpy, but also in charge. “Anyone else who wants to join us, and who has the talent, may. Not that we should expect too much that way. Everyone wants power, but few are willing to actually work for it.”

It was an offhand statement, but the old dour fellow glared at him.

“You spoke to the new King? Magically, you say?”

He shrugged, since it was true enough.

“Communications like that is one of my jobs, so, yes. The point is that Prince Alpert, he’s the Regent, not the new king, if that makes any difference? He knows about this and agrees that it’s fine. We’ll also be going over the water system in the city here. Depak Sona and Master Jeld are seeing to that, along with some of our army.” He sounded bland, but, rather embarrassingly, his middle growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten.

Walden’s mother stood up then, quickly. Her face was concerned again.

“I can run and make you something? I don’t know what you like, Lord Anders.”

The grumbling man with the long beard waved at the chair next to him.

“Sit, sit. This is the servants’ room, but if you aren’t too good to work with Walden, you probably won’t mind.” It was a test, of course.

One that took no skill at all, to pass.

“Thank you. All of you. I can have what everyone else is, if there’s anything left? I was too lazy to make something, earlier.” He glanced at the freckled woman, who he didn’t have a name for and smiled. “Just Anders, though. Well, technically it’s Prince Anders, but that’s only in Barquea, or if I’m needed to give a speech. Otherwise, it’s just Anders do this, Anders do that...” He grinned a bit, even though everyone else looked like it had fallen on deaf ears.

No one spoke while the red headed woman left the room, her skirt swishing as she moved, until one of the other men there did. He had a beard as well, but it was short and neatly groomed. Also, rather blond. His clothing was colorful and he had a gold hoop through his left ear. His voice was smooth and rich, both at the same time.

“I’d heard of that, in asking about the battle. Prince Anders Brolly. The Warbow. Those who saw you in battle make wards against magic, when they speak your name out loud. Men from both sides, in fact. They keep describing you as being a giant, however, for some reason. At least a full head taller than other men. Some have suggested that you might not be sane?” If the man cared that he could be giving insult, it didn’t show on his face.

Meaning it was another test.

A dangerous one, for the other man.

“That’s always a good thing to keep in mind. I think I’m well, mentally, but battle can take a toll on anyone, can’t it? That, well... I had to do what I did, to save my home, land and people. I wouldn’t expect anyone from here to forgive me for it.”

There were a few nods, but Walden was the one who spoke. Indicating that he was allowed to do such things, even when the adults were having a conversation. Not that the rest of them would be able to see Anders that way.

“The Prince, the other one, Prince Erold... He knows who I am?”

That got everyone to stare at him, as if he were stupid.

“Yes. We all do, in fact. All the mages and many of the guards. Walden, the red-haired page boy. Prince Erold called you dedicated and hard working. That’s a good place to start.”

Just then, the woman who had left came back, with a slice of fresh, warm, bread, a bowl of ground grains of some kind and a tankard, which had fruit juice in it. She ducked her head a little, when he sniffed it, even if it seemed fine to him. Apple, with something sweeter mixed in.

“I could get ale, I just...” She swallowed and shook a little bit. “It’s just not known if you have a temper, in your cups, so the head cook suggested that we give you something soft.”

Again, they all looked scared, except Walden, who rolled his eyes.

“Everyone drinks juice or clean water, in the morning. Or, is drinking ale first thing an Istlan custom? I could run and get something for you, if you want?”

He shook his head.

“This is perfect, thank you. People who use magic, at least the ones of note, rarely drink anything harder than tea. I don’t think anyone from Istlan will ask for ale or harder drink, this early in the day at all. This smells very nice.”

It was plain gruel, and soft bread, but was actually warm and had some salt in it. The juice was actually delicious, but he didn’t mention that, because saying he liked it in particular could be taken as him trying too hard to please the servants there.

Still, he ate it all, and then carried the dish and empty cup, along with the wooden spoon he’d been given, into the wash area. Walden did it first, so he simply followed along. The old man with the white beard did that too, as if it were perfectly normal.

He spoke, before Anders could call the Page away with him.

“Where will you be working today, and for how long?”

The man stared at him, rather frankly, as if expecting to be dressed down for not using his title or for being demanding. It wasn’t the noble Yansian way at all, but they did seem to be a curious people. Asking questions without guilt coming into play.

“I don’t know where. We just need someplace out of the way. Also, a large rock. I have to leave at a half hour before noon, since I’m teaching Saffron the Lerna to speak Istlan.”

The old, bearded, man simply glared at him again.

“Get to it, then? Daylight is burning.” Then he turned on his heel and strode off.

Chapter seventeen

Page Walden wasn’t an inspired student, but over the course of the next three weeks he managed to learn enough magic that Anders wouldn’t have to feel poorly about having failed him, if he had to leave the next day. That was possible, given that Prince Alpert was arriving already.

He’d made good time, as well as having started to work on what was needed in Yanse, even before getting there. It was useful, but had kept Anders busy, taking notes and running them to various people. As well as making another, darker, list. One that held the names of workers and servants in and around the castle who couldn’t be trusted.

Three of them had simply vanished, in the night, after Anders had read their intent in their minds. It had been brutal of him, but leaving them alive, or even killing them publicly, because the two men and one woman had intended to use their positions in the castle to kill them all, over the celebratory meal they were to have that night wasn’t going to work. They hadn’t done anything yet, other than gather some poisons and worked out how to get it into the mulled wine that they planned to serve. One of them was the second cook, so had been more than high enough up to make the plan work.

Instead, she and her two friends were simply gone. Having run away in the night, it seemed. There were others there who had made his list, who weren’t trustworthy, in one way or another. Some would steal, if they could get away with it, for instance. Others wanted to kill the new Prince who was coming, but hadn’t worked up the courage to do it yet.

There was another, shorter list, that he added, but didn’t mark as to what it was, at the top. Those were the spies who had stayed behind. It was important to know who they were, but the truth was that all of them were content enough to stay on and see what happened, for their masters. Removing those particular people ws simply asking for them to be replaced.

Instead, he moved into the castle, along with Jeld and Daren, to make certain everything was ready for the day. Gelard, the head servant, scowled at him when he came into the servants’ dining room. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Anders belonged there, however. The man had no clue as to if that was the right or wrong thing to allow to happen, actually. In his mind, a boy with his talents should have been served in a finer location, probably eating the proper food.

That this one sat with Walden, who he was also teaching real magic, simply meant that he was making an effort to seem like a real person to them. He understood that, but also hated Anders with a personal passion that was hard for him to control. It showed in snappish words and at times, dire looks, even if the man couldn’t find anything to hate in what the younger man had done there, so far.

“Brolly. I hear that the new Prince is coming today? We’re planning a traditional feast, but don’t know if he’d like anything specific. Do you know of anything like that?”

Walden, already eating his first meal, pointed a wooden spoon in Anders’ direction.

“You should have some of the salted caramel candy put out. That’s my favorite.” The kid sounded young for a moment, and smiled, his freckles adding to the picture. Then he took a deep breath. “Not that I’m the one who will be eating them. What does he like though, do you think?”

He thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Local fare would be best, for this. Things that you commonly have here. At least, as you mentioned, for feasts. Candies take a few days to make, normally, though... Sweets are good, of course. I’ve seen him seem to enjoy such things. Cakes, pies, sweet fruit dishes. Not all at once, just occasionally, as a treat. Normal foods as well. Really, what you normally have will be fine, I’m certain.”

He meant what they normally made for the King, but the man understood that, very clearly. He nodded at Anders then, forgetting his hatred, for a few moments.

“So, he isn’t that picky? Good to know. We’re... Missing one of the cooks. A serving man as well. Ethera, and Johan. Ethera is in the kitchen, and Johan works the stables. It’s strange, them being gone at the same time. This happens from time to time. People leave, or even just get taken away for a few days, so they might be back. That leaves us a bit short handed. I don’t suppose one of you can cook? That or work as a groom, for the horses coming in?” He looked at Jeld and Daren, who were standing behind Anders, and seemed surprised when Jeld bowed, then stood and nodded.

“I’ve worked as a groom before, Sir. Anders, you can cook, can’t you?”

He’d had lessons, and even worked, in a very low capacity, in the King’s kitchen, under Senna Grace. So, he bowed as well.

“I can. The style of foods here will be different, but I can do some basic things, if the need arises?”

That got waved away, but the man didn’t glare that hard at him, suddenly.

“Grand. Now, I can get some of the stable candies out... Are you taking Walden away for training?”

Anders shook his head.

“Not exactly. We need to go over the greeting ceremony. It isn’t hard, but all of the servants not working will be needed outside, in clean clothing, to see him and any important people arrive. That way they’ll have a chance to learn who is who. There will be some bowing, as well, and possibly a few of them being introduced. You’ll be required for that, Master Gelard. Walden will be standing by me, since he’s a student of magic. We’ll need for him to be known, in case there’s need of such things after I’m gone.”

Everyone looked at him then, with three of them seeming concerned. Daren, Walden and Walden’s mother, Lola, who was sitting next to her son.

“You’re going soon?”

He shrugged, and then shook his head.

“I don’t know? Prince Alpert and I have been in communication, and he has a letter that he hasn’t read, in regard to me, from King Mathias. That could be my new orders, or a suggestion as to what to do about me.”

Gelard narrowed his eyes then.

“Do about you?”

“Yes. It’s clear that not everyone here is all that comfortable having me around. I understand why. There are too many deaths at my hands for any here to love me. It makes sense to send me away, given that.”

Neither man behind him had mentioned feeling that way, but they’d both killed enough that even hardened soldiers would have been impressed with their prowess on the field of battle. It was the old man, the head servant, who did something shocking, slapping the table. Firmly, but not in anger.

“Foolishness, if that’s the case. You’re one of the few that have come who can actually speak our language well. You men have learned that as well?” He seemed to think that was likely, having just spoken to them in his own language.

They had, in the last weeks, since Anders had pushed them to do it. Just as he’d gotten Walden to learn Istlan. Again, he wasn’t the best student in existence, but after weeks of training, using the proper mental tricks, he could make himself well understood in that tongue.

Well enough to carry messages for visitors, and possibly some other small tasks. He was only ten, after all, so Anders wasn’t trying to push him forward too much. At the same time, the boy had shown an eagerness for learning. If that held, it couldn’t hurt to aid him in that fashion.

There was speaking then, from Daren, who naturally, did that in the language of the land they were in. As he had earlier.

“We’ve all been learning that, Sir.”

That got a grunt.

“So, when is the new Regent getting in? I don’t want people standing around all day, if we have a choice. We can pull them out about half an hour beforehand?”

Anders wrinkled his nose.

“That... Allow me to check?”

That was harder to do accurately than it sounded like, and in the end, he had to use looking through time, in order to work out when the horses would first be coming into view. Even at that, he had to guess a good bit.

“About half noon? So, in two hours or so. I can’t get closer than that in time, really. I can keep an eye out, well, use wizardry, and set up an alert when they’re about half an hour away?”

The old man glared at him again.

“That sounds fine enough. Please let us know in time? Better we stand for an hour than come running out disheveled and unkempt, as the pies burn in the kitchen.”

Dismissed, Anders left the room, not at all certain what he was supposed to be doing in the moment. Instead of wasting the time, he reviewed all of the magical elements that he’d learned. That meant, two hours later, when he checked on the progress of the incoming group, he wasn’t all the way finished with everything he’d committed to memory. That was both annoying, and a bit impressive. He wasn’t going slowly, after all, and while it was tiring, putting out that many spells back-to-back, he wasn’t exhausted.

The others had been doing their own reviews, but had finished already, when he spoke to Walden.

“Could you inform everyone that the prince is about twenty minutes away?”

Anders was clean and dressed in nice clothing, but changed that anyway. After all, he was, technically, a Prince of Barquea. That meant meeting his father with something impressive on, to show... Something. Anders didn’t get why exactly, but Farad understood it was the tradition, so his outfit was transformed from dark brown, slightly shining cloth, to thin, perfectly reflective gold, with black boots.

The day was sunny, and the weather warm enough to be pleasant, as long as you didn’t have to exercise too hard.

When the servants came out, they all looked fine enough. Their clothing had been tidied and was clean, if not perfect in every way. A few had discolored clothing, and they certainly didn’t match, but that was fine. The workers there didn’t wear a specific uniform, that was all.

He waved to Walden, however.

“You’ll need to change. Something colorful, but not that nice looking.”

That wasn’t nearly enough information for the boy, who had to be coached a lot before he managed to come up with a green and black outfit. The lines of black on it not being all that tidy seeming. It wasn’t horrible, and clearly showed that he’d done the work on it himself, to a certain type of person.

One that had been around a lot of young magicians, for instance.

The servants were only standing outside for about ten minutes when the rows of horses walked into view, from the left. No one waved, and they didn’t hurry in their pace at all. Five minutes later, Prince Alpert was visible. There was a commotion behind them, as Prince Erold came out, dressed nicely already, having done the work on himself.

The effort was better than what Walden had managed.

That idea got Anders to smile, which he still had on his face when the front line of riders got to their position. Prince Erold moved forward and bowed, using second courtly. Anders did the same, as did those with him.

It wasn’t everyone, at all. About half of the servants had come and Depak, Hoatha and Salina had managed to get themselves busy, working on a new sewage system for the local area. It was impressive. A thing that Jeld had been working on as well, though had been given the day off, to meet with the Prince. Anders had seen to various lessons, and his own practice, but that was about it. The others had taken to actually working, each day.

Prince Alpert dismounted smoothly, his light cloak moving in the gentle breeze as he bowed back, using a modified version of first courtly. The reins of his horse were in his left hand, so he didn’t put that hand forward much at all. Still, it was the intent that really mattered. He was trying to go low enough to be polite.

After a moment one of castle men of Yanse, dressed in dark brown, with a leather vest, moved forward and ducked in place a bit.

“I can take your horse, if it pleases, Prince Alpert?” He spoke in rather course Yansian, which was understood enough that the Prince handed the leather leads over.

Then he turned, and stepped forward, not waiting to speak.

“Erold!” His brother got a slap on the arm, and a smile that seemed genuine. When he turned a bit, Anders was surprised by the next movement. “Anders! Son... How are things going here?”

The man spoke in the tongue of the land, so about half of the servants turned, wide eyed, to stare. Not at the Prince, who was new and fresh to them, but at Anders. As if that made any sense at all.

“Well enough. I have a real report ready for you. First, we should introduce everyone?” That wouldn’t really be happening, or welcome. The servants needed to learn who was important, and what their names were.

Several of the people getting off of their horses looked to be well dressed, as if well off, if in a medium way. Then, they were traveling, so that could mean anything from them having their best clothing on to impress people, to this being the roughest wear they owned, to save the best from road stains. That meant any of them might be incredibly important. They could also be workmen, who wouldn’t be staying at the castle at all.

Alpert simply nodded at Anders, and smiled.

“That sounds wonderful. Who do we have here? I recognize Prince Daren, of course. Also, Master Jeld. Well met, gentlemen.” He looked down at the red headed boy standing there, and gave a single nod, indicating who was to be introduced next.

“This is Page Walden. He speaks middling decent Istlan and has enough training in magic to be useful. Magicians skills, in the main, but the basics of wizardry as well. Over here we have Master Gelard, the head servant. The important portion for now is that everyone gets a chance to see you, of course, Prince Alpert.” Anders didn’t yell his name, but did speak it firmly enough that the people standing there all glanced over and took a good look. It was needed, for their tasks.

The Prince turned, glanced around and then waved several people forward.

“This is Baron Kilroy. You’ve met in passing?”

They had, of course. More than that even, having traveled together to remove the traitor Franken from the world, about a year and some months before. A thing that Prince Alpert might simply not have recalled at all. He hadn’t been there and while that event had been a very large thing, at the time, his portion of it had been very different than what Anders, or Baron Kilroy, had been engaged with.

“Baron, so good to see you.” He bowed, his voice a bit bland. The man gave him a look that was very nearly hurt seeming, for some reason.

“Prince Anders.” His face fixed itself, quickly.

Anders smiled at him, which had the man relaxing, for some reason.

There was a man behind them, who wasn’t old seeming, though perhaps a few years greater than Prince Alpert was that way. Around three decades, based only on his appearance. He was dressed in nice, but not special seeming clothing, and his hair was blond and pulled back, showing his lean face starkly. He was, most likely, an attractive person, for a man. He wasn’t doing anything to make a show of it, which was interesting to see. His body was thin, which stood out a bit, but was perhaps matching what Anders had going on that way, for some reason.

Whoever he was, the man didn’t seem to have his nose up in the air or anything. In fact, he looked around at the servants and smiled grandly enough that it was noticed. He even waved a bit, at Page Walden.

Then spoke in Yansian. To the small red-haired boy.

“You speak Istlan, Sir?” There was no sense of talking down to the younger man, which was rather different.

Anders realized that he did, occasionally, tend to do that with the child. Even being no more than three years his senior. This man, for whatever reason, wasn’t acting that way at all. It was a thing for Anders to correct, in the future.

Page Walden bowed. His form was off, but not too much. He’d had lessons, after all.

“I do, Sir. Some. Master Brolly taught me, when I wasn’t at magic lessons, or working.” His eyes shot a glance at the new Regent, but what he thought to see there wasn’t. Prince Alpert simply looked interested and mildly impressed with the sudden use of Istlan.

The thin blond man smiled even more hugely.

“Wonderful! Impressive, as well. I was brought along to translate, but having even a few others here who can do the same will make a large difference, I’m certain.” He bowed back, matching the Page in lazy application of first courtly.

No one blinked at the idea.

Possibly not noticing.

Anders had wondered for a while if he’d been trained to a level in that area that few truly were. Master Belford was a stickler that way. The Princes did well, over all, when it came to bowing, but at times they weren’t as strict that way. A few at court had been, but it was far from everyone.

Which probably meant that it seemed like Page Walden was in his proper station and that Anders seemed the pretender there, faking his skills.

Which was true, so he smiled a bit, trying to seem pleasant in the moment.

Prince Alpert nodded, to show agreement, then moved to introduce the others that had traveled with him. Not everyone, but two more individuals.

“This is Major Vram Harth, of the Istlan army. Here to oversee the transition process. Finally, we have Master Glen Burrows. He’s here as the castle Wizard... A former student of Master Tolan, here with his recommendation?” The Prince seemed uneasy about that, for some reason.

Looking at Anders, as he spoke.

For his portion, the new Master Wizard, a round, very short, man, with a scraggly beard, seemed almost upset as well.

Anders simply smiled and bowed.

“So nice to meet you, Master Burrows! I’ve worked with Master Tolan as well. A great man. Known in many places. I found that on my recent travels.”

The man managed a bow back, but it was awkward and didn’t really seem to have a form at all, just being a bending in half. Like common folk did. Several of the others there did notice it and made faces, behind the man’s back.

Which was ridiculous, since he could read minds.

The fellow stammered a bit, his round cheeks going red.

“Um... Well met.”

“Well met!”

Then, even if it was a bit odd, Anders waved a few of the servants over, and asked their names, so that they could see the Prince and the others there up close. They were all men and women on the list that Anders had produced, who weren’t actually planning violence or feeling easily swayed to turn against the new people.

He noticed that Master Burrows, blushing or not, was reading each of the people, standing there in a decently deep trance state, his mind focused well enough that Anders could feel it. Even not being in such a state himself. When the focus hit him, Anders simply shared the work that he’d done on the topic, to give a base of work to double check. Having a professional Wizard there meant that his efforts should be gone over, after all.

There was a single, slow nod, in his direction, in agreement.

The Prince was gracious with each person he met, smiling and being pleasant. Finally, after a short while, Anders didn’t ask for anyone else to come over, and it was clear that no one knew what to do, exactly. There wasn’t anything planned, as far as a celebration or party. Alpert hadn’t wanted that, feeling it would show them in a poor light. Instead, he felt that getting straight to work would show him as being hard working, without taking the task lightly.

So, Anders bowed.

“We should see to the bags and mounts, then show everyone to their rooms, so they may refresh themselves? You have appointments, starting in an hour, Prince Alpert. The first being with myself and Prince Erold.” That likely wouldn’t sound grand to anyone else, but he had a few things to actually report. In secret.

His father brushed at his blond hair, and smiled.

“Very good, Anders. If you could set that in motion for us?”

That, it turned out, was possible. He arranged for servants to show people to their rooms, as well as carrying bags, of which there simply weren’t that many. They’d traveled fast, on horse, and didn’t have any wagons with them. That meant there were no large cases of clothing, or even documents. The horses were taken away, though the handful of military men acting as guards, along with a dozen knights, did that themselves. Four of the guards, dressed in red, moved along with the Prince, to protect him.

The Wizard did the same thing, not pretending that anyone should show him to a room of his own, even. Which wasn’t true, but showed a dedication to the role of the moment. The man, still in a trance, moved inside the castle, drifting along after the others, as they were taken to a set of rooms, which, if Anders had it right, used to belong to the royal family.

Before they’d been killed.

They also had Page Walden moving with them. A thing that had Master Gelard looking askance. The older man smiled though, seeming pleasant enough, with everyone else. He dropped that when he looked toward Anders, but his face went blank, not into a state that showed rage. As if he didn’t care that Anders was there, instead of hating him on a deep level.

The rooms were nice and had been cleaned well, stripping the overt signs of having been used in the last month. When Prince Alpert had his own space, he turned and looked at Anders.

“Is there a preferred meeting space?”

There was, being the room where Yarler had died. There was no sign of that having happened there any longer, and being there didn’t bother Anders much. Prince Erold looked a bit uneasy, but he didn’t comment on the fact, when they settled at the table there.

The guards were removed from the room, as was the new Wizard, leaving only the three of them, Baron Kilroy and the thin blond fellow. Who was there to interpret, if need arose. A position which would be important there, in Yanse. Several of the others had mentioned how difficult it was to get almost anything done, not having that skill, already.

After no more than some few moments, the Wizard came back and settled himself, seeming embarrassed, for some reason.

Prince Alpert was at the head of the table, where Yarler had been, but Anders, instead of standing behind Erold, was to the right hand of the Prince. Baron Kilroy was across from him, with Prince Erold next to him. The thin man was directly next to him, which seemed off, since it meant that the other man, the Wizard Burrows, was next to Prince Alpert. If that was done on purpose, he wasn’t able to work out what it meant. That indicated he was missing pieces of the puzzle, most likely.

A moment after they sat, Burrows, seeming nervous, glanced at the Prince, then over at him.

“No one is listening.” His head ducked, as if ashamed to be speaking at all.

Anders nodded, then checked that for himself. The man noticed him doing it, that was clear. He didn’t seem upset about it at all.

“Agreed. Is this the...” He shook his head. “I have things to report, but some of them might be secret.” He didn’t know if the men in that room were going to be allowed know everything. Or, for that matter, if he was. It made sense not to tell him a good many things, of course.

After a moment, Alpert nodded.

“This should be fine. All of you are sworn to keep what you hear secret. Tell no one, outside of this room, unless commanded by my father.”

They all nodded, or murmured that they agreed.

Then they looked at Anders, as if he should go first.

“I have a list, several of them, for the servants here. How trustworthy they are. I can pass this to Master Burrows so it can be checked?” He glanced at Prince Alpert, who nodded. The Wizard seemed shocked when it came out of his jacket and was passed over, immediately. “There were three of them, who planned to kill you, at the feast tonight. Poison. They’ve gone missing, overnight.”

Baron Kilroy raised an eyebrow, but clearly understood what that meant. Interestingly, Prince Alpert and Prince Erold both seemed concerned. The others were as well, though the Wizard read him, to see what had happened there and then went wide eyed.

In fear.

Anders simply nodded at the round-faced man.

“They’re dead. No one will find the bodies. I removed them last night, and burned them until even the bones are gone. Then covered the ash with several feet of dirt. I did the same with several of the former councilors here, a few weeks ago.”

Erold tightened his face, and looked at the table.

“I’d wondered why they all ran away. I mean, I understood that they might, after the King here died, and his family, but I didn’t know...”

No one spoke for a moment. When someone did, it was the Baron.

“Of course you didn’t know, Prince Erold. You didn’t order it done. There was no public use of force. These men, a threat to the new rule, simply left one day. Into hiding, understanding that it is their part in the new order. Except that, instead of coming back in some months, or raising a foreign army to march on us, they will remain silent. Very well done, Anders.”

Prince Alpert glared at the man, and then shook his head.

“It isn’t what I would have ordered done.”

The rail thin man next to him smiled, his face affable, instead of accusing.

“You didn’t. No one in power did. I believe that’s the point in this? If anyone finds out about it, you can point a covert finger at Master Anders here and quietly suggest that he was perhaps, a little over zealous? Then remind them of who precisely took this kingdom in battle... It should keep the people well enough distracted. If that’s needed at all. Most will probably assume it was simply what had to happen.”

Alpert blew out a huge breath of air then.

“Very good, Lord Brolly. I agree. Even if it isn’t the kind and gentle rule I have intended for this land.”

Anders felt a bit down about the failure on his part, but didn’t bother letting it show. It still needed to be done, after all. Unless it hadn’t.

To that end, he forced a smile.

“The only other thing I have is a suggestion.” The man was up on everything they’d been doing, after all. They’d been in conversation daily, normally several times, on a lot of different topics.

The new Regent waved at him to go forward. His face very still.

“Yes, Prince Anders?”

He shrugged a bit.

“You should exile me from Yanse.” The words were conversationally loud and not at all dark seeming.

The man blinked.

“I should? Why?”

He took a breath then and looked to the side.

“Why? In the nine battles of this campaign, I killed nearly a hundred thousand men. Probably closer to seventy thousand, but no one will recall that later. An army was laid to waste, on three different occasions. People here speak of the Warbow as being the villain of the whole thing. Anders Brolly. If you protect them by sending me away, it will ensure that they trust you, first thing.”

The answer he got then was different than he would have expected. Several of the people at the table shook their heads, and Prince Alpert tapped a single finger over his mouth, as if suggesting silence.

“I can see the possible utility there, of course. The only problem there is that we can’t send a war hero away in shame, for merely doing what we requested of him. If we do that, no man of the army, or any valiant knight, will be able to trust in us.”

There was another pause and Erold nodded.

“Agreed on that. Plus, Anders is incredibly popular in our Army, right now. He took his part of the war spoils and had them spread to the men, evenly. Including what he gained from the besieged keeps that we took. Even the lowest and newest recruit was given a healthy bonus for this campaign, in his name. If we kicked Anders out right now, we might well find most of our forces here marching with him, when he leaves.”

Baron Kilroy actually whistled.

“That’s brilliant, if an expensive purchase. What do you intend to do with them?”

He had an answer for that one, so tilted his head.

“The plan is to go north. Toward Dora. I don’t know if they are planning to attack Istlan, but they’ve been making ready, for some time. My hope is to seem so ready for them to attack us that they simply decide it isn’t worth the attempt.”

No one told him it was a foolish idea, at least.

Chapter eighteen

There was a feast that evening, which Anders didn’t attend. Honestly it hadn’t even occurred to him that anyone would expect him to be there. Farad tried to rally both of them, knowing that it was his own internal pressure that was driving them into the state of despair that they were in. Shaking himself a bit, which did nothing, Anders tried to find something to distract himself from his thoughts of war and murder.

That meant walking back to the shared house he was in, noticing that the outside of it had change, greatly, over the last few weeks. It had started out as a fairly nice, but outwardly plain, brown building, with a roof that matched. That was sloping, with tiles that had given them a good overhang on all sides, as if wearing an oversized hat.

Now it was a bright blue and green color, with swirled patterns on the exterior walls, and a black roof, which was the same in shape and form, but seemed to glisten, just a bit, in the warm afternoon light. Inside, the space was still open, but had some furniture in it now. Matching chairs, made of wood, a few large soft pieces, covered with pillows and hard wooden benches along the walls of the main room.

There was no fire in the fireplace, of course. Even in Yanse, the world had warmed enough that being cool each day was more important to see to than anything else, as far as comfort went. Inside, sitting off to the side, tying knots in a complicated pattern, was Hoatha.

His oldest friend, Ganges.

A person who had come halfway across the world to be with him, only to then be more or less ignored, in first the war and then due to Farad feeling poorly over the people that he’d killed. He tried to remind himself that it was needed. It didn’t truly help his mood.

Pretending to be pleased did, however.

“Hoatha! I’ve barely seen you over the last weeks. How is everything going?” He meant it, even if he had to fight to let that show through the surface level dourness that he’d been carrying with him.

For his old friend, he made the effort.

“Anders! I’ve been doing well. Watching everything and seeing where we might be of use in the area. Depak and Jeld did a wonderful job on the water and sewage systems in the city here, already. Food is food, but we ended the war at the beginning of the growing season, so other than managing the weather, we don’t have to do a lot that way. I’ve gone around doing some healing, with Princess Salina, just to work on her skills that way. In all, I don’t have much left to do here at all.” He smiled, happily enough to seem real. “Which is a good thing. You?”

Anders laughed a bit and rolled his eyes, merrily.

“Not nearly that much! Some light cooking, teaching a bit of magic. Saffron is already largely up on her Istlan. I was thinking of heading toward Dora soon.”

He expected Hoatha to be eager to leave, but the man simply waved at him, as if trying to get his attention.

“I’ve been checking that area and found nothing, since Rothina and I disabled the magics we sent in that direction... for their use. Before traveling that way with an army, we might want to send in spies and observers. If you send a fighting force all at once, it can force a fight. You think that you are simply showing how ready you are, and the enemy can only read it as preparation for an attack. Then, if even one soldier gets a bit bored or edgy, you’re embroiled in combat.”

Farad tensed. Not Anders, who simply nodded their head for them, and forced relaxation. To him Hoatha was being reasonable, sensible and probably had real information, having lead armies in war more than almost anyone else in the world. It wasn’t high on adventure, but that was fine, with the boy. Going into Yanse had tainted even his desire for glory in war. He had it, so now it seemed dull and lacking in interest to him.

Farad however, noticed the slight hitch in what the other man had said. The almost imperceptible pause. Addressing the magics that Lady Martya and Ganges had sent to the north, which they had admitted to before. Except that the last words, for their use, suddenly seemed out of place. Put there for him to hear, instead of to inform him of what had really happened.

He felt off, being suspicious of the man. His oldest friend. The only one left from his old life. Even Martya was, as he was, merely a copy. A new person, who had come from inside of a small glowing stone. A merging of Anders Brolly and Farad Ibn Istel. Something different than either.

Ganges was the same.

He was also the man who had killed millions, attempting to take over the entire world. Farad had imagined him as being different back then, after his death, but...

That suddenly seemed off to him. All because of that one hitch in speech. A thing that probably meant little to nothing. People made minor mistakes when they spoke. It was one of the reasons why he’d been taught to practice speaking in public before actually doing it.

It occurred to him though that Ganges, the man in front of him, might not have seemed any different when he was known as The Great and Terrible, than he did at that moment, smiling pleasantly and giving what seemed like good, possibly helpful, advice. That very idea caused him to feel as if he were going to lose consciousness, for about five breaths.

His lips buzzed at the idea, as the room dimmed, closing in from the sides. The pattern was blue in tone, with little sparks of light mixed into it. Then, amazingly, Anders asserted himself and smiled.

“Ah? Well, that sounds... About right, doesn’t it? I’ll suggest that to... Prince Robarts? We should really take Princess Salina back to Istlan and the comforts of a palace not at war, for a small time. Then I need to see to building that promised castle for Duke Lister. I researched what he has there, in his lands and... Well, it isn’t much. Do you think Dora will pull back, if they don’t have those extra magics?”

There was a shrug and raised hands, from the man. His light tan clothing was loose, and seemed arranged for comfort, more than to impress anyone else with his power or riches.

“Most likely. The truth is that no one wishes for war. Some think it will gain them power, of course, or land, which is my guess as to the real plan here. The far south and the far north share an abundance of snow and cold. The places between are the wealthier lands, so it is tempting for the hard folk who live in those isolated climes to strike out and take what others have, for themselves. Still, that tends to cost in lives, and such people have to work far harder to live, day to day, so every risk is magnified for them. My guess is, now that the magic sent is gone, they’ll simply pull back and wait.”

Again, the words all made sense, but Farad kept hearing things as being off. At least when the time came to speak of magics. Things sent to them, for their aid in battle.

Though, he also realized that it was probably nothing and he was being a silly old man, suspicious of every sound, fearing what it might mean.

Shaking that off, he went with what Anders had suggested for them.

“So, we should see about getting Princess Salina back. Yourself and Depak, as well. After all, both of you are dignitaries and we should at least feed you fine pies and candies for a while, shouldn’t we?”

He grinned at the words, as Hoatha waved them away.

“Who doesn’t enjoy such? Though, I must admit, after the first five hundred years or so, food holds little interest, past slowing hunger. At least as a focus for life. So, do we leave in the morning?”

Anders tilted his head, since that sounded quick to him, if there was no reason for leaving yet. Then, he felt the tension of living amongst people who, even if not all hated him, many feared him, for what he’d done to their soldiers.

Not that Istlan would be much better. Though it was possible he could simply return and no one would know who he was, in particular. Even if they heard of some war mage of great power called the Warbow, few would think of that as being him, in particular. Truly, away from the palace there, he could likely travel Yanse and no one would think that he was anything more than some strange foreign boy.

It left him feeling a bit better, realizing that. His current troubles, in small part, were there, in that place. Where too many knew him. Leaving would allow him freedom from that. Not the rest of the war, of course. He was going to carry that inside of himself for a very long time, he feared.

“I don’t know? I need to see what everyone else wishes to do, and check with Prince Alpert. He might insist I stay. Not that...” He wanted to say that he couldn’t understand why that was, but the truth was he honestly did, on a certain level of being.

The man was his father. In Istlan they were forced to stay apart, in more than a casual way. There in Yanse, the man ruled, however. His first words there to Anders were to call him son. In the language of the land they were in. Called out loudly, too, not spoken as a mere comment. He’d wanted those listening to know that he, Anders Brolly, was his own child. That wasn’t done as a threat, either.

After all, as the Regent, if he wished the Warbow to stand by his right hand and stay ready for battle, he could have simply ordered it done. No, his intent, clearly, had been in claiming Anders publicly, as much as he could without starting problems in Istlan. Even that was really about lines of succession, not hatred of him for being born poorly.

Hoatha, older and wiser than Anders by so much time it didn’t bear truly considering, simply nodded.

“I can see that, of course. Also, a fine choice. In that case, we can find things to occupy ourselves here, if we try. One place is very like another, after a while. You could put on some of your illusion shows? Those are impressive and would sooth some of the anger left from the war, I wager.”

That sounded almost crass, but he nodded.

“Away from here, perhaps? I’ll ask about the rest. Now... Have you, in your very long life, learned how to make running water indoors, that won’t make the air thick with steam?” It wasn’t brutally hot there, but the room did feel a bit sticky.

“You know, I have, in fact. What was done here is fine enough, for the region, but we could channel water through the walls and in pipes made inside the ground. Deep ones, since they’ll freeze in winter, in a region like this, otherwise. Then you’ll need special pieces made of metal or stone to control the flow. I can show you how it’s done?”

That wasn’t done by sketching in the dirt or even on fine paper. There was a discussion first, made of glowing images that appeared in the air itself, which, once seen, weren’t actually that hard to follow.

Anders waved at them.

“I’ll need to create some new spell components, but I can do this. Now, the special metal work?”

That, it turned out, wasn’t as simple, since the man insisted on doing it the hardest way first, which meant working in stone, with seals made of leather. In their case, a leather like substance created from course woven grass, instead of animal hide. That bit, transforming something as common as grass into a sheet of hardened, but still flexible leather, took several hours.

Then Hoatha didn’t let him merely make one of water gates, he insisted on ten of them. Each no larger than Anders’ closed fist. They were incredibly complex and even after making several, he failed on two in a row. He’d simply missed, slightly, when he was pointing at what he wanted done. By no more than a fraction of a finger span. It was enough to prevent the whole device from working, forcing him to start over again.

Then he had to create a water pump that used the pressure of flowing water to lift the fluid into the air, and make a large cistern, about seven feet high, which was needed to feed into the small house he built. He didn’t have individual spell components for the new pipe or to attach the water gates, so he had to do it the hard way.

It took until meal time, when Depak walked into the small space, holding two bowls, each heaping with roasted meat and various greens. He surveyed the work when he entered and nodded, as he handed first Hoatha, then Anders, their bowl of food.

“Ah! I’d wondered why we needed a new house here. I like the work on the faucets. Is that yours, Father?” He spoke as if he knew the real answer, which was probably apparent.

Anders was being pushed to do new things, for training purposes.

That, or to be companionable, but even if the man hadn’t been stern with him, he’d asked for a lot and instead, gently, that doing it right was always the better plan.

Hoatha nodded.

“In that I borrowed the idea from a craftsman nearly a thousand years ago, and then got Anders to do the actual work you are looking at here? Then, yes. All mine. Thank you, for the food. I was about to suggest we go and seek something out.” The man, former Sula of Barquea and King of who knew how many lands, simply settled, on to the packed stone floor of the tiny cottage.

Sitting cross legged, both he and Depak did the same. Anders was hungry, but waited for the other man to start, before eating anything himself. They used their fingers, but he tried to be careful that way and not make a mess. As he did that, Hoatha spoke.

“We were speaking, earlier, about the need to go into Dora, in the north. I was suggesting that we might not need to send in an army, since the magics sent there are gone now. They have been for long enough that they’ve likely figured that portion of things out. So, Anders decided that going back to Istlan, at least to take Princess Salina there for a time, to relax, after her efforts, might be a good plan? Then he’s going to build a palace for Duke Lister. Hence working on the plumbing system here. Salina is working on that as well, correct?”

That got a nod, from both Depak and Anders. The magician, his robes fine looking, being well embroidered and shining in a shifting color that reminded one of copper and something closer to fire, did the same.

“Indeed! She’ll enjoy a break, I think. I’ve rather been pressing her, Jeld and poor Daren for some weeks. Who are we leaving here, for the protection of the new Regent?”

That was a thing Anders hadn’t even considered.

Instead of blurting out that it needed to be a specific person, he shrugged.

“Let’s get everyone together tonight and see what the thoughts are on that? Page Walden is up to some basic magical tasks, and needs to keep up on his training, but it isn’t fair to insist he travel with us, to a land that his people had just been at war with. He’s young and should be allowed a few years to learn and train, before doing that. I don’t want him to lose his learning of Istlan, or magic, of course.”

Instead of answering, Depak simply stood, and came back, some five minutes later with the rest of the merry band. Salina saw him there, eating, and waved in his direction.

“Anders! I’d half thought you’d left me here. All alone, with only a slave master to fill my days.” She glared at Depak, so that no one could doubt who was the master there, but also fought an obvious grin, at the same time.

Jeld, almost out of character for him, nodded at the words.

“It’s true that Master Depak requires much of a student. I spend my days, being humbled on all sides, as I struggle to do the simplest of tasks.” He smiled at Daren then, as if that were a jest, between them.

Depak simply settled on the floor again, followed by the others, Salina doing it last. Not affronted by the clean ground, as much as needing to fight her skirt into place properly, first. Then the older man, bald and with a strong mustache, clapped his hands.

“We’re planning to leave for Istlan soon. If you all are finished with your tasks here, for the time being? The goal is to send Princess Salina there, to prepare herself for the raising of Duke Lister’s keep. We need to collect several others for that, as well, and make certain they’re prepared for the task. That might not... Well, we haven’t been there to ensure they practice.”

Anders was on his last bite of food, a bit of greens, which were mellow in flavor, being young as it were. When he finished it, covered with grease from the meat, he used a spell, muttered quietly, to clean his hands and sent the waste out the window, which was just an open hole in the wall, so far.

Then he spoke, forcing his voice to be light.

“That won’t be too huge an issue. Princess Lissa was with them. I’ve been contacting her once a week or so, to make certain everything is going well there. That topic has been discussed and she seems to think everyone is doing their part. Well, not all of the servants. Several of them have stopped lessons completely, even if they’ve been being paid for the effort.” That baffled him, but Daren simply took a large breath.

Then he sighed.

“It’s the old fear of magic. Even being offered an easy life and riches isn’t enough for a lot of them. Some will keep going, since a silver a day is too much for them to miss out on. A few might even do it because they can see the use and get past fear after a while. I still hesitate, occasionally, because of that.” He seemed as if he were about to be scolded for that fact.

Jeld bowed his own head, as well.

“I feel the same. I dread returning home, as well. I’ll be an outcast, won’t I? A being to be feared and warded against, instead of a fellow to work in the castle with. Do I even have a job there, after all this time? Will the King hire me again, as I am now?”

Everyone had a different reaction to those words, but Anders had actual answers, having bothered to check, even if it meant getting Master Tolan to go to Prince Robarts with the idea.

“You have work there. In fact, King Mathias has been paying you. A gold per week. You and Daren, both. As mages. Your work here is being done under his auspices, of course.” He shrugged. “I don’t have to go back to Istlan, specifically. I have to admit, I’d rather be there than here, since the Warbow isn’t actually that welcome all the time, but I can stay, to protect Prince Alpert here, if you all need to go back home.”

He was about to explain the rest, when Jeld simply shrugged.

“Daren and I could stay on here? He’s good about insisting I practice, so I won’t get lazy. Or is he needed? He’s a Prince. It would be harder, doing it myself, but...” He seemed to stiffen in his resolve then, ready to go on alone.

The new Prince simply smiled.

“I can do that? What would my duties be, do you think?”

Anders shrugged.

“Making sure that you both learn Yansian well enough to act as translators, if it’s needed. Provide magics for protection and other efforts, building, healing and even entertainments... See to Page Walden and make certain he keeps up with his daily practice of magic and in learning Istlan. Communications with Istlan, as well, as needed.” It sounded like a lot, once it was spoken out loud.

Daren bowed, while seated, which had Jeld doing that as well, if a little late and too fast to be smooth about it.

“Then, if that’s allowed, we’ll do that part? How long do you think that will last?”

It was interesting, but Hoatha answered, his face serious seeming.

“Well, you might both consider taking wives here? This has the sound of a long-term posting.”

Princess Salina winced.

“Ah... Prince Daren is to wed Princess Javina. She didn’t come halfway across the world for you to find some plowman’s daughter off in Yanse, Daren. I don’t know if anyone mentioned that to you yet. Not that you get a choice of course. I mean, she followed you to a different land, so you’re kind of obligated now, aren’t you?”

Anders, or rather Farad, felt shock at the words. The boy inside simply nodded.

“That was a bit obvious. So... Don’t marry just yet, Daren? I’ll ask about the rest, in a bit here. We seem to have a plan, but all of it might be changing, in the next few hours. I’ll contact... No. Daren, why don’t you get in touch with Master Tolan with what we’ve spoken of here and see what is desired that way? Then check with Javina, to make certain Salina isn’t simply playing with you on that score? She’s a trickster, at times. Now, if I’m not going to be doing the work on that... I need to get back to this place.”

Not everyone ran out, but Depak took the bowls away, and Daren left to send those messages. He seemed odd about it, which made perfect sense. After all, it wasn’t every day that a man was told he was to marry someone. The last time that had happened for Daren, it hadn’t gone well, either. Ending in murder. Alice, the girl he’d been to marry, was still at the palace, learning magic, unless she was one of the lazy people who had quit.

Anders didn’t really love the sassy cook after that, since she’d gotten pregnant with another man’s child, setting the whole thing in motion and nearly causing a war. Still, even he had to admit that having relations wasn’t normally that important. An exotic man from a different land, armed with magical implements that made women fall in love with them might not have been her fault at all, either. The situation had been dire for a time, but keeping all of that in mind was important.

Especially if the girl had actually kept up with the magic. She wasn’t horrible at it, at least when being bribed to do the work.

Hoatha acted as if nothing had been decided, and simply set Anders to remaking the whole thing, twice, before bedtime. Faster each time, in fact. The man had merely waved a hand and erased the pipes from inside the walls, not even muttering a single word. It had been instant, as well. Hours of work, merely taken away, without seeming effort.

He got the idea, of course. The man was simply bringing the stone back for him, or relighting the flame, so that he could practice. It was the kind of thing he did to people all the time, so he could hardly complain about it now. Of course, he normally didn’t have people work for hours, then take it all away. Still, on the third set of building, when it was finished, the man looked around, the room lit by a glow held at the ceiling.

There were basins in ten places, around the three-room cottage. Those were held up by clever stands, to make certain the stone work was well supported.

“There! Now, this place will probably be filled with hanging roots, come fall. The goal was to learn a new task, and I think you did that very well, Farad. Anders. You should seek your bed now? I must do the same, I fear.” He yawned then. A huge thing that had Anders doing the same.

He was tired, so nodded.

“An idea. Sleep. Well, at least I don’t have bad dreams. That... Anders doesn’t really. Not often.”

Hoatha simply walked out then, waving a bit. Not commenting on those words. Then, the man would probably just understand them. After all, Anders Brolly was only partially the memory of an old man from a faraway place. He was also something very different.

When Hoatha left, something very odd happened, in that Anders spoke to himself. Out loud, his young voice firm.

“Something isn’t right here. He keeps speaking of the magics sent to Dora in different ways. As if they were put there to attack them, not help. It’s subtle and I don’t know him like you do, Farad, but... That feels as if...” There was a tentative tone to the words, as if the boy was attempting to not start a fight with the old man inside of himself.

“Agreed, Anders. We can but watch for now. It’s probably nothing. But...”

There was a sigh then, which sounded frustrated, instead of calm or collected.

“If it’s him, then it’s almost certain that Lady Martya is part of it, whatever is going on, as well. We don’t have enough to even make a guess. If it’s both of them...”

Farad didn’t speak that portion out loud. After all, if it was both of them being in on it, then, Farad had to assume, they were going to do whatever it was they had planned. Being a friend to both of them would be the only thing he could do to slow them, in that case.

He certainly wasn’t going to defeat them in battle, after all.

That part was shocking to think of, when he bothered. Hoatha Eta wasn’t just good with magic, he was so brilliant that he was, nearly, godlike in its use. When he’d first suggested that there was nothing that entire kingdoms could do to him, Anders had figured it as bravado, or a suggestion that he was, in the way of the mage, powerful in combat.

Now he wasn’t certain that it was that at all. That his oldest friend, a man who had been a student of his once, fifteen hundred years or more before, was simply untouchable, in any normal way. Perhaps literally. Anders could, he thought, come up with a complex spell, or a spell idea, that would do that. Allow anything trying to touch him to pass through his body. It would take time and effort, but should be possible.

Hoatha could do that, and make it so that an entire army simply couldn’t connect with him, while everyone else could. He might even be able to have it set so that anyone trying to do him harm would simply pass through him. A shield could leap into place instead, of course. Perhaps both, in different circumstances. Making that happen on demand, with a single word, or a hand signal, might be possible, but it was incredibly advanced.

Honestly, he didn’t know if he was up to the task. Instead of worrying about that, he decided to learn a single new phrase that night before falling asleep. One that would allow his body to pass through anything, while still standing on the ground, so he didn’t fall inside of the world and become trapped. What he did with the idea was a bit different, since the word he chose, releth, would only work on him.

When he spoke the word, he would become intangible to the world.

Then, speaking it again, with a modifier, na releth, he’d become normal again. It was so complex that he didn’t even test it before going to sleep. Just working the sets of words, both of them, over and over again, while in a deep trance. Making them into something so real that his internal mind forced him to dream about that practice, over and over, all night.

Finally, as the morning light poured through the window of his room in the palace like house that all the magic users were sleeping in, Anders rose, cleaned himself and took a deep breath.

“Releth.”

Feeling uncertain, he walked toward the outside wall of the place, and stuck his hand toward it. It passed through without any issue or problem at all. Then, feeling brave, he walked through and back, several times. The world went dark inside, and he was gasping after about a minute, but it did seem to be working.

“Na releth.”

With that, he felt the spell break. It was, he had to consider, not a trick that he was going to need very often. Then, most things were like that, he had to consider. Most days he had no use for a hammer, for instance. If he ever needed to drive a nail, that kind of thing would be really handy to have, however.

A lot of magic was, almost certainly, going to be the same way.

Chapter nineteen

There was a strange feeling to events the next day. For one thing, at time for first meal, when Anders was just about to see to making some bread out of some rather carefully selected mixed grains, which didn’t seem to have any mold or mildew growing on them, Page Walden padded up to the outdoor kitchen. He started walking, some fifteen paces away and did his best to hide that he was heaving, trying to get enough air.

“Prince Anders? Your father is summoning you. For the meal? They’re holding it for your arrival. I think he was saying that you were expected to be there, but that it was possible no one happened to inform you of that? I could have that wrong. My Istlan is kind of bad.”

In Istlan, Anders answered, shaking his head.

“It isn’t poor at all, really. Not for having only started to learn it three weeks ago. True, you should be able to learn a language in a week. At least one that’s so similar to Yansian, but you did kind of have to learn other things at the same time. It will be faster, next time.” At least if the boy kept practicing his memory skills regularly.

There was a mock glare then and crossed arms in partial answer.

The boy answered in the new language though.

“Oh? I suppose you learn languages that quickly? Everyone in the castle thinks I’m doing very well...” There was a bit of little child grumpiness in the words, also a sense of playfulness, not true anger at the light teasing.

Anders nodded.

“I’ve learned languages that fast, yes. Still, you are doing pretty well. I just don’t want you to stop or get lazy with it. I mean, you’re working directly for Prince Alpert now. He’s basically the King here, and that’s significant. I mean, running his messages isn’t the same as being his high advisor, but it’s not exactly just being a page, either, is it?”

The boy scoffed, and switched to his own tongue.

“No doubt. Still, you need to come away to the breaking of fasts, or I’ll be thought slow and unreliable. You don’t want that for me, do you? On my first day of work with the new King?”

Anders started to walk, leaving the grains out, in a bowl. The birds would eat it, so he ran back, and covered them, with a second bowl, turned upside down. Then he ran toward the castle, muttering as he did it. He was faster than Walden was, but it was hard enough to do magic while moving that he didn’t mind being slowed a bit so the other boy could keep up.

He cleaned himself again, then changed his outfit, from a rather plain black tunic and trousers, to a fine morning outfit that would, Anders hoped, fit a fine morning meal at the castle of Yanse. The guards at the door, army men still, at least on the outside of the building, waved as he got to them.

“Master Brolly. Page Walden.”

Then they were let in, without any more question than that. It wasn’t exactly proper, given they were in a hostile land. One that used magic far more freely than Istlan did. It wouldn’t be hard for him to make an illusion of himself and Walden walking in like that. It probably wasn’t a common skill, but the truth was that people willing to try and kill a ruler wouldn’t be common individuals.

He started walking at the door, the inside of the place being guarded by a mix of knights and regular army soldiers. By the time he got to the door outside the small dining space, there were four full knights, dressed in mail and with light shirts on underneath, instead of gambeson, meaning they didn’t really think they were going to have to fight that day.

The man on the far left spoke first.

“I recognize the small red-haired fellow as Page Walden.”

Then the rather ugly, but young fellow smirked a bit.

“The other is Prince Anders, of Barquea. Some call him Andy.”

That had all the knights there laughing, as if it were a joke that they recognized him. Indeed, two of them had traveled with him on various journeys.

“Sir Daniel, Sir Rollo...” He smiled at the man who spoke first. “Sir Howard?” It was a question, since the last time they’d met, the man had been a squire.

Daniel made a pleased sound then.

“Indeed! Won with distinction in battle. I heard that you saw some action as well, out here? We were stationed further to the north, on the Istlan side. We had a few tense moments, but beat them back on the third set of things.”

He nodded, not having heard of any of that. He’d been so focused on what he was doing that everything else had dropped away from his awareness.

“Congratulations on the promotion, Sir Howard. You deserve it. We did see some fighting this way. It... Well, you know how it goes in battle.”

No one asked him to clarify, at least. They did let them into the room, Page Walden taking Anders by the arm, as soon as they got through the door. As if to prevent him from getting away.

Alpert smiled at him.

“Anders! I hope I didn’t have you dragged away from something important?” He seemed concerned with that, and looked at Page Walden’s hand, as if it were about him having been physically pulled into the room.

“Not really. I was about to make some bread, from spotty grains that I found at the bottom of a barrel. I don’t know why I’m being held in place, to be honest. Walden? What’s with that?”

The boy nodded, grinning playfully.

“The Regent asked me to see if I could grab you. I could.”

Anders simply nodded at the idea, since it made sense to him.

“Good work then. Let me go now, so I can see if something is going on? Do we need the room?” That didn’t seem likely, but he didn’t want to presume anything. There were others there, at the table. Lord Brolly, and the new wizard, Master Burrows already sat at the table, as well as Ambassador Hethdrinia. This time, instead of showing her breasts, the fairly youthful seeming woman was in a rather nice, rich and shining purple gown. It had a green sash worn across the waist.

Anders bowed toward the table, with no one standing to do it back to him. Prince Alpert waved.

“Please join us.” He seemed a bit shocked when Page Walden, not seeming certain of himself, took the seat next to Anders, when they sat. Everyone else looked baffled as well.

Prince Alpert simply smiled, as if that was exactly what he’d intended.

“Are you two in lessons, after the meal?”

The food started to come out, and if they hadn’t expected an extra body at the table, it didn’t show in the first plates set in front of them. It was decently ripe fruit, sliced and of various types.

Anders smiled.

“We are. I’ve put things in motion for Prince Daren to continue his lessons, when I leave. We need to get Princess Salina back to Istlan, before our adventure here seems to be forced labor, instead of an interesting aside for her.”

Everyone simply started eating, using forks to stab the food. Master Burrows and Walden both started out by using their fingers, but they both scrambled to catch up, without being told to do otherwise.

The Regent did his own eating for a few moments. His voice was casual when he spoke.

“Oh? You’re planning to come back here, after you see to her safe return?”

That hadn’t been his plan at all, but instead of going over why he wasn’t going to be wanted there, he tilted his head.

“Nothing so swift as that. I need to go and help see to setting Duke Lister up, and there are some issues with Dora. Possibly. Some of my... Advisors, seem to think that they might pull back, now that things have changed for them. I was planning to ride that way, with an army at my back if possible, but that might not be the best idea, apparently?”

The Prince chewed a bite, seeming to consider the words rather carefully.

“I see. There is some merit to that. Master Burrows was just telling me about the situation in that area and he found it calm. You’ve been up there for some time, haven’t you, Master Burrows?”

The heavy man, his face turning a bit red, looked at Anders with a bit of panic in his gaze. His voice was fine though.

“I have, Prince Alpert. I lived there for the last ten years, in fact. I was able to check the entire border region and some good portion of Dora and have to say... I can’t find any troop movements or signs of readying for war. A wizard can be fooled, of course, but I checked the minds of various people who would be affected and none of them indicated anything of the sort going on. Farmers and their wives, not people who would normally be covered using magic.”

“Clever! May I use that in the future?” Anders didn’t want to steal the man’s tricks, but that kind of thing could work in a lot of different cases and hadn’t been one that he’d come upon, on his own.

“Oh, certainly, Master Brolly. You mentioned leaving? I wasn’t certain as to my place here and haven’t been able to ask yet. Is...”

Instead of assuring the man of his place as the castle Wizard, Prince Alpert looked at him, is if Anders’ word had any bearing on the situation. He understood what the man was asking him, but not why it wouldn’t be apparent.

“I could be gone for some time, and am far from a professional Wizard. I think the plan is for Daren and Jeld to stay on. You’ll watch out for them?” That was a polite enough way of arranging things, he thought. After all, if Prince Alpert wanted someone else for the job he could appoint them. He wasn’t in charge of such things, as far as anyone had mentioned to him.

For one thing, that didn’t make any sense. The other man was an adult and Anders was thirteen. One of them had a better claim to a real position there.

The Prince grinned a bit and bowed.

“That would be good, if we’re allowed to have them here? Was word put in with my father?”

“Daren was supposed to see to that last night. I haven’t asked him what the word back is, not having seen him today.”

Everyone simply ate for a few moments, then Lord Brolly looked over at him, from across the table and down, since he was next to Prince Alpert that day.

“Master Anders, are you planning to stop by Barony Brolly, on your way to Duchy Lister?”

Given that he hadn’t known it was on the way, he was caught out for a moment. Instead of mentioning that, he cleared his throat, gently.

“Ah... I can’t see the Baron being welcoming of that? We didn’t end on the best foot, I fear, last we met.”

The very thin man looked at Anders, his face rather bland, as far as giving a clue to his feelings.

“I can see that. Still, he did rather claim you in the line of heirs, so you’re obligated to stop in, if you’re within range of a visit. Not that I don’t understand the idea of avoiding that, as well. I know I always try to do that, whenever possible.”

That was the first that he’d heard that his being owned by the man was anything more than a piece of paper saying he existed. Honestly, it was probably just that, but the kind seeming fellow across the table was pointing out that if fifteen people died or some such, then he was a Baron.

“Ah, well... I’ll consider that, then, if I’m ever in that area.”

Thankfully, the second course came about then. It was a single poached egg, from a chicken, for each of them. The spices used for it were interesting, being heavy on what seemed to be a mint of some sort. He took small bites of the damp egg, savoring the flavor.

After a while, perhaps seeking only to break the silence in the room, Page Walden spoke.

“Are we holding Selmnought this year?”

Anders glanced at him, then around the table, since everyone else was being attentive to the red headed child.

“Selmnought? Is that a local celebration?” Anders tried to work out what it might be.

There was a bit of bobbing in the youngster’s chair for a moment.

“It’s pretty much everywhere, isn’t it? People don’t know if we’re doing it or not. It’s... Don’t you Istlan folk have that one?”

There were head shakes in answer, so the child went on.

“We decorate with bits of greenery, flowers and all that. There’s a feast, with honey candies and sour new wine. It’s so the crops will grow.”

Prince Alpert tapped his lips, as if asking for silence, but after a moment, he nodded.

“I might be able to spare some funds for that. Let me check the accounts and see what it will take? When would this be?”

Anders nearly blurted out that it would be too soon to be easily handled, when the boy spoke.

“Day after the morrow. Is it proper, with the last King dying? I... Everyone here is in mourning, in secret. I’m not supposed to mention that, so that it doesn’t offend you, Prince Alpert. Gelard told us about how the King attacked Prince Erold and died in the fight that took place. He was the King, but beaten in battle, so... We don’t know what to do.”

Anders understood that part of things, at least. The horror of what had happened to the man’s family hit him then. This time, Anders felt it as well. Not keenly, but it wasn’t only Farad casting sadness around for a moment.

Lord Brolly seemed sad as well, for some reason.

“That has to be almost impossibly hard for everyone here to deal with... We should hold to the normal course of events, if it is as the Regent wishes, but perhaps allow the men to wear a single black armband for their loss? Nothing too grand, but enough to show their feelings, without being ostentatious. Women could, I think, be allowed a black ribbon, stripe or... I don’t know? Something small, in remembrance of the past. Perhaps for a given time?” The man went quiet then, as if his council wasn’t welcome there.

Alpert simply seemed to be considering of matters, for a while.

“I agree, largely. Can we put word out, that people should attempt to do such, for the rest of the season? There are so many things that could be taken wrongly, with such, but ignoring the loss of these people and insisting they do as well seems merely cruel.”

They had several more dishes brought to them, and then, on the last course, which was also rather small, being about a swallow of very reduced fruit juice, the head servant was called for.

When the older man came in, he seemed shocked to find Page Walden at the table.

“Why are you sitting there? These barbarians will think you’re raising yourself above your station!” He seemed almost scared for a moment, until Prince Alpert spoke.

In rather broken Yansian.

“It is, I have heard, perhaps, time for a celebration of norm?”

Anders was about to speak, when Lord Brolly did. Which made sense, given it was his specific task there.

He didn’t add anything, simply smoothing the words in their place.

“He has learned that there is normally a celebration this time of year?”

They spoke for some time, the man hedging a lot, about various factors. Finally, noticing that Master Burrows had dropped into a trance, Anders did as well. When he touched the mind of the servant, he discovered the truth. A thing that brought the man much personal shame.

No one had really been making preparations for the day, not thinking they would be allowed their own customs, any longer. He was gladdened to hear that the new ruler of their land was accepting of such, but also frantic, inside, over the idea of a grand feast being presented to the man, on that short of notice. They could do the cooking for it, but the shopping they needed to do was going to be almost impossible without at least a week’s time for it.

Anders bowed his head. Then spoke in Yansian.

“We should, perhaps, keep the feasting here down to a minimum? Since the household is in mourning for King Yarler and his innocent family? All hearts are heavy over their loss. Is that acceptable, Gelard?”

The older man, understanding him easily enough, glared at him for a moment.

“That would be a kindness, of course. I don’t know if mentioning that his family was innocent would be prudent, at the moment. People understand, but it lays hard with many here. I raised half of King Louis’ children, nearly as my own, when they were little. To see them die at the end of an ax isn’t what I’d have wanted for them. The King... Well, he was going for the Prince, so you had to stop him. None could fault you there, if they saw it happening.”

That it wasn’t what Anders recalled taking place was fine, really. He hadn’t noticed that Gelard had been there to see things at all, so he could have the wrong idea of it, he supposed. So could the other man. In the end, it didn’t really matter. One of them had to die that day, and it wasn’t him. That was all.

Lord Brolly changed the translation, into Istlan and repeated the whole exchange. Anders sat, stone faced and as if he had no heart, and Prince Alpert closed his eyes, if only for a brief while.

“That seems sound. A time of fasting, instead of a feast? Only for us, here? Those outside of the castle should hold to their normal customs that way. Now... How do we tell people of that?”

That, it seemed, was harder than almost anything else there. When the old King had died, most of his soldiers had gone with him, or had run off, as soon as possible. It was the right thing to do, but had left whatever communications system that had been in use had gone with them. Neither Gelard or Walden had any idea of how to get that done at least.

Thinking for a while, not really understanding that kind of thing himself, Anders recalled having read several stories that addressed that type of thing. Indeed, he had them memorized, so could use them for citation if needed.

“We could hire men to take messages, from city to town. With bills, to place on holy temples or meeting halls? Truly, we won’t have time to do the whole of Yanse. Perhaps just the surrounding area, first?”

That, it seemed was a fine solution. At least until they realized that no one there was a fine enough hand to write such messages in Yansian. Gelard could read and write, but demurred as to being able to do such a thing. Walden was in the same place, having some basic skills, but not at a high level and while Anders could read the language better than he spoke it, his calligraphy wasn’t a known thing there. He could have done it, but Master Gelard simply left the room, coming back a quarter of an hour later, with a short man in gray robes.

“This is the scrivener.”

Before he could explain that to everyone, the man ducked his head a few times, then took the large case in his hands, settled on the floor, cross legged and turned it into a small worktable, which included paper, ink and pens. It was an amazing contraption, which had Anders staring for some moments.

Then the Prince spoke.

“Let it be known that the occasion of... What was the name of the feast here again?” He looked at Walden, who hunched a bit, when spoken to.

“Selmnought, Prince Alpert.”

“Indeed! Selmnought. Let it be known that the occasion and observance of Selmnought this year will be observed with a day of fasting for the folk of the castle and surrounds, due to the state of mourning for the former King and his family. All others should hold to their normal traditions and practices. All children under the age of ten are to be fed, instead of fasting. Further, mourning for King Yarler may be shown with a single black arm band, of modest size and shape for men, and a bit of black ribbon, cloth or a single flower of any color, worn by women.”

The words had to be gone over several times and translated to the proper language, but ten minutes later the man had the document finished. The hand was only a bit better than Anders’ own, but the style was a bit different, which might make it easier to read for those accustomed to such things.

Then, a bit heavy handedly, he gathered fifty sheets of paper, and some of the ink the scrivener had and cast a rather lengthy spell at both the sheet and the blank pages, spread out over most of the table. No one gasped or acted amazed when the ink, as a fine mist, spread over the room, landing on the papers, reproducing the message on the first one perfectly.

It was a bit sad, really. Anders rather enjoyed that part of things, normally. Instead of acting as if it were a large thing, the scrivener simply stood, looked at Anders and bobbed in place a bit.

“How long would it take you to do this for, say, a hundred books?”

He didn’t really know, but could have run up a hundred pages at one time. Doing an entire book wouldn’t work, unless he read each page as he went. That, of course, would still depend on a lot of factors.

“A hundred different books or a hundred copies of one book?”

“The second idea?” The man, who had a powdered wig on his head, with a blue bow on the braid that hung down his back, seemed interested in the answer.

“Well, given all the materials being on hand... and a book of some size, I’d guess four to six hours? Less if I had helpers to organize things for me, so I only had to focus on the magic.”

The man clapped then.

“Very good. I have several people who wish to commission such runs of texts. The going rate is ten gold coins for each written work. We could split that up, say, with five of those coins going to you for each one?” The man held his breath, as if it were a bad suggestion.

To Anders it seemed a good enough thing to learn how to do and Farad was nearly beside himself with the idea. A hundred books at one time like that would change the world. Especially if many could learn to do it. Dreams of tens of thousands having important texts filled him for a moment. He glanced at the rest of the room, with Master Burrows seeming slightly annoyed for some reason and Lord Brolly looking fairly pleased with the suggestion.

The Regent coughed a bit and covered it with a hand. At least after the discussion was translated for him.

“That’s a fine bit of work, but you might be leaving soon. Perhaps on your return?”

It was the second time that the man had seemed to suggest that Anders lived there, in Yanse, now. It was, no doubt, a fine enough place, but he didn’t know if it was where he wished to settle. Besides, one way or the other, he had other things to keep an eye on. None of them were in that land, in particular.

“True! Still, I can show Daren, Jeld and Walden here how to do it, so that they can keep on with it, as schedules permit? We should do the same for Istlan. I’ll see if that can be set up there as well?”

That got waved at, is if it were a fine enough thing, but not important at all. As if books weren’t one of the biggest and best things a society could have. His people had loved such learning enough to support men who did nothing except recall texts, for a living.

These people seemed more casual that way. It was a bit annoying to Farad, now that he noticed it happening.

“That would be fine, of course, if you have time, Anders. If not, then perhaps in some few months? We don’t need to press you, or these others, I have to think?”

Anders simply bowed his head a bit.

“Of course.”

For some reason the Prince didn’t want him to work with books. That, or possibly, start a new project just then. Which could be due to his plans to leave, of course. Part of him wanted to claim it was more sinister than that, but he didn’t think that would be true. Alpert was a good man, after all. Not perfect, perhaps, but other than getting a girl pregnant at a young age, out of wedlock and then not being allowed to marry her, Anders had never heard of him doing anything particularly bad or even in poor form.

So, if the man didn’t want him to do something, there might be a good reason for it. Instead of feeling poorly over the idea, he simply sat for a moment, while the scrivener packed up and left. Then, before he could pull himself and Walden off, Prince Erold walked in, with Daren in tow.

“Alpert? We have a message, from Father.”

That had been written out, since that was the custom when passing such things around. The words weren’t in a fine hand, being that Daren had done the work on it. Still, it could be read, and after Prince Alpert did that, he passed the paper down to him, directly. Erold slipped into the chair next to Walden, not displacing the boy, or anything.

The words were interesting, since they included things that Anders wouldn’t have suspected as being part of such a message.

“I’m to be called back, along with Princess Salina, if she wishes to come. I’m supposed to go regardless. Daren and Jeld are to stay, to give magical backup and instruction as requested here. It’s requested that we bring the Lerna Saffron to come and stay at the castle of King Mathias, if she wishes to travel in that direction. Also, it seems that Princess Javina and Prince Daren are to be married in a year? We’ll have to have him back to Barquea for that, of course. Both of them.” Anders shrugged then. “You know, if we have to do that, we’ll want to send Walden with them. Princess Lissa can see to his instruction. That’s in the future and possibly won’t happen, but you’ll need to learn Barqean as well, just in case.”

Prince Alpert snorted at him.

“A real consideration, but one for the future. You left a bit out there?” He pointed at the paper, his face serious.

Anders had, because he didn’t think it was all that important.

“The bit about being knighted? I’m nearly certain I don’t ride a horse well enough for that.”

Ambassador Nona made a face at him then, her accented voice a bit wry.

“What is that? I do not know of it?”

Anders could see that, since the woman was working in a different language than her own.

“A knight? It’s a horse soldier, who wears armor. Very effective on the battlefield.”

Prince Alpert seemed to agree with that.

“It’s a position also given as an award for those who distinguish themselves in battle. Or, of course, if you have enough political clout. In this case it’s a bit of both.”

The words were waved away, by the lady, her sleeve shimmering in the light through the window.

“Ah? That sounds like what a boy might enjoy, then. Is this a common thing for a man of... Young age?”

Prince Erold bowed at the woman, his face charming. She was attractive and smiled back fairly well, even if she was married.

“Not common at all. Not for valor in battle. It happens, but I only know of two others in the last years. Both older than Anders is, so it’s fairly special. I’d be jealous if I hadn’t been given one as well. That was more about being a Prince of Istlan than merit, of course.”

Everyone played that off, and it wasn’t true. Erold had done incredibly well in the battle. As had Salina, Jeld and Daren. If Anders hadn’t been there, they would have still won, after all. He’d taken most of the lives, but that was just because, as he’d thought before, that piling more on the mountain didn’t really affect him all that much, any longer. There were just so many of them.

Plus, he’d had some tricks ready that had worked rather well.

The truth was though that Anders wasn’t that thrilled to be named a knight. It simply wasn’t important to him. That held, when Farad checked for the boy inside. He’d fancied himself a warrior once, a fighter, but never a man who made a living on a horse, in particular.

Part two: The Road to Ferlith

Chapter twenty

“Andy!” The voice that called out wasn’t truly familiar to him, though he turned, since it was a woman, and from the sound of her calling, she was on foot, near the edge of the road. There was a line of wagons there, waiting for the troop of military men on foot and the few horses to pass. Probably to follow along behind, if they could, using the armed men as protection on the road.

It was a good idea, and wagons didn’t really move that much slower than men on foot. Not if the men weren’t being forced to move at best speed. There was no reason to do that to them at the moment, so the pace was about wagon fast. At least on the good, very smooth and dry path in front of them.

Sitting on the back of Brownie, with Chestnut tied behind him, a healthy pack, mainly of food, but also with some few gifts, on her back. Over that he noticed the clutch of women. Each of them was wearing a blue or green cloak, even if the weather was going to be too warm for that, later in the day. Then, Anders was in mail, with a heavy undershirt that day, since it had been what the knights were requested to wear by Sir Daniel. That would be warm later as well, if not as brutal as wearing heavy gambeson would be.

Technically that only meant Anders and Sir Daniel, as well as Sir Ruffo. The soldiers going back to Istlan were actually being sent because they had to protect Princess Salina. That was the excuse at least.

It took him a moment to figure out which woman had called for him. Several were looking his way, and most of them were smiling, so at least it wasn’t going to be an attack, first thing. Unless it was a very clever trick, of course. That a group of whores would think to do that... Well, the truth was, they only had to take direction and perhaps some coin. Someone else could come up with the plans.

This particular group of ladies was familiar, however, when he stared for a bit. Then he pasted a smile on his lips, as one of them waved. She was, when he made eye contact, a person he knew.

“Mary!” He had to get out of the line of travel, moving to the side of the road himself, to speak to her. “Are you well? I was worried about you. All of you.” That was actually true, he realized. There had been a group of women and children, camp followers, taken by the Yansians at the start of the last winter.

The plans had not been to treat them kindly. He’d tried to help, but there was only so much that a man could do from thousands of miles away.

His words had the rest of the women smiling, as well. Not all of them truly meant it, that was obvious, but they were bothering to try, which was enough, for the moment. It was what he was doing, after all.

Mary, her brown hair up on the back of her head, in a rather fine-looking bun, her dress and cloak looking stained and worn in a few places, if clean, laughed.

“We were all almost taken in war... then a giant freed us, after we chanted for a bit. Then... After we got away, two ships with pirates on them came and gave us food, blankets and some coin, to keep us going until we could make it back into Istlan. We just heard that the war is over, so are all heading home now.” The woman gave him a saucy look. “You owe me a fancy new cloak? Last time you spoke in my head you said that.”

He blinked, then nodded. He honestly had. That had even been him making a bit of a vow, at least in his intent, so it was important.

“Ah.” Then he focused and pointed at what she had on. “Clotha cloda devis clotha forma re doogis kal, ere fen.” He had to point a bit, but no one seemed to think anything of it as Mary’s clothing shifted on her body. It made her jump a bit, letting out a soft sound of surprise.

Her cloak grew a bit, thinning the cloth, so it wouldn’t be as warm, and turned a shining metallic gold in color. Her dress repaired itself and changed to what seemed like a sturdy travel dress, this time in bright red, which was Mary’s signature color, he thought. The shoes on her feet, things that had looked ready to fall off, were suddenly reshaped to be light, but nice-looking black boots.

There was a pause, then a soft gasp from the other ladies in the wagon. None of them asked him to do the same for them, for some reason. One of them did speak though. Betha, he thought her name was. They’d met, on the road, some time back.

“We didn’t understand what the pirate men wanted, at first, but they kept saying Brolly and Anders Sona, so we knew it had to be you wot sent us food and coin. They were even polite and helped us build some better shelters, before they left. Was it you that made that giant?” She seemed nearly afraid then, as if a big illusion was a thing to fear.

Especially considering that fierce seeming had saved her, at the time.

“No, that was the work of Illian Darca, the grand illusionist of Yanse. I merely suggested everyone ask him for aid at the time, that was all.” It had been enough, having been pretty hard to manage, at the time. It didn’t seem like a large feat of magic, of course. A few words spoken into a thousand, perhaps two thousand ears.

At thousands of miles distance. It had nearly killed him. Though, now that he thought of it, there was an idea there. He’d identified the cloaks he’d made, and used that as a link to each of the people. He could also name a specific person or even type of item. When he called for apples from the woods, only ones close enough to what he demanded came to him.

Hoatha had presented lights for twenty thousand men, which was incredibly impressive, power wise, but if he’d come up with a specific name for Istlan soldier, that might have been enough to make it work. Truly, it could be as simple as a phrase for person on my side. It wasn’t a thing that Anders had come up with at all, yet, but he smiled at the idea. That, and many more, could be used for things similar to that.

The biggest issue then, as always, was really in having enough power to get the task desired done. Hoatha had been very careful around him, so far, but it was clear that he must have supplemented his grand magics with the blood of others. A thing that stole a bit of their lives from them, draining people without restraint, at times. In the old text, it was suggested that such magics might even drink the very souls of the dead, causing them to fade from reality as if they’d never existed.

It wasn’t a thing that he wanted to deal in, to be honest.

Rather than let that thought, possibly wrong, sour his mood, he grinned at Mary.

“Still, the things I sent along helped some? Was it enough?” He’d worried about that as well, for a while. It had been all he could get to them, at the time.

Mary, still staring at her new clothing, looking at her glittering cloak, which was already getting attention from the soldiers walking past, a few turning to make eyes at her, sighed, dreamily.

“We ate well, after that. It was a bit rough, before that, but we holed up for months, and stayed on the coast. It wasn’t truly pleasant there, but it rarely snowed and we had wood to burn, to warm us. No one died, which was a blessing. Thank you, Andy. That was most kind, thinking of us. How much did it cost, sending things that way?”

Half the women simply looked down then, into the wagon. The others pushed their chests out, and tried to seem attractive, for some reason.

“A trifle. Some coins. Nothing I couldn’t manage at the time. Now, I need to get back to my place, or I’ll end up being lost. Are you attaching at the end of the line?”

That got a nod, from one of the women who was actually wearing trousers and a well-worn, filthy looking, tunic.

“Aye! Are you hunting this trip? We could trade for some meat and greens?” The words were hopeful, even if a few of the women tittered, in the wagon behind them. The other two held children. The things were run down and their animals were in dire condition, but no one was raw boned, simply poor looking.

Anders had planned to get some food in, since he hadn’t been able to buy a lot, in Yanse. There had been a war and it was the start of summer. Plus, he’d run out of coin. He had more, but all of it was in his room, back in Istlan. In his room, if Princess Lissa hadn’t had to spend it all, trying to get the servants to bother to study each day.

If that had happened, well, then he was going to have to figure out a way to get some more. That or learn to do without. It was simply easier to pay people than to make every little thing himself. Then they could use the coin, too, which was a good thing for the world.

“That’s the plan. I could use some helpers, to aid with the cooking?”

Mary winked at him.

“You’ll clean this finery for me, when I get it covered with soot and grease? If so, I’m in. You have Little Erry with you as well? I saw him riding by... Prince Erold... It’s hard to believe that I’ve spoken to someone like that, isn’t it? Only, he isn’t so little now, is he? All of you look hard. Even that fine lady seemed like she was ready to end us, didn’t she?”

That was possibly true. There weren’t a lot of smiles in that part of the line.

“Later then, if I can find anything to eat out here? This area was stripped, so I might have to travel a bit to locate things. War does that.” It was a constant thing, he thought.

Every story he knew mentioned that kind of thing. The ones about large wars, at any rate.

Several of the ladies nodded, and he waved a bit, as he rode back, gently tapping Brownie with his heels, to get her to trot for a while, getting them back into place. Hoatha grinned at him.

“Friends of yours?”

“Yes. A group of camp followers that I met some time ago. They should be with us later. Some of the ladies agreed to help cook, if I can find anything to hunt or gather as we go.”

Princess Salina glared at him, her eyes nearly closing.

“Those women were whores, weren’t they? How do you know that sort of person, Prince Anders?” She seemed smug about the idea. As if she were scoring a real point against him in some fashion. He’d already explained that part of things, though.

Sir Daniel smiled at the woman, seeming tolerant more than pleased.

“They were with us going to the front last summer. Anders helped to keep them in food and clothing, as we traveled. They were taken as prisoners by the Yansies, and when they were freed, he sent two ships with supplies for them. Captain Enna mentioned that to me when we sailed back to Istlan.”

Depak Sona, who was on a rather nice war horse, which was named Carlton, for some reason, looked over at Princess Salina.

“Ah? These are the women and children that you asked that illusionist to aid?” He clearly knew the story, so went on, not waiting for confirmation. His gaze never left Salina, who turned in the saddle a bit to look back, questioningly.

“Anders sent a simple message, to several thousand people here, at one time, to get them to beg help from the man we met after the first battle. One who couldn’t gain from doing it at all. It worked, preventing much harm to them. A spell cast by Anders, from far, far away. In many places at one time.” He looked at the pretty woman, waiting for her to speak.

She frowned.

“That sounds difficult... Truly, I would figure that it must have nearly killed you, if this isn’t merely bragging about a lesser feat?”

Depak smiled then. It was a kind seeming thing, instead of derisive.

“It was real. It didn’t nearly kill him though, Princess Salina... It did kill him. He was pulled back from the edge of the eternal void, but it was so close that even the woman who did it, Mistress Belford, could barely believe it worked.”

Hoatha cleared his throat then.

“I had not heard of that. This was before we met again?”

That got a nod, since Anders didn’t really see the point in going over such things. Depak however, had one.

“That is the cost of being a Great One, Salina. It isn’t always about practice and safely using grand magics. At times you must face, and even be willing to go into, death itself. Trust me, when the time comes for it to be your turn to do such things, you won’t have time to consider it. That is why you must constantly seek to improve your skills. So that, in that crucial moment, you might live and in doing so, save the lives of others.”

The girl, her tan skin flawless and eyes a lovely shade of brown, snorted, rather rudely.

“Yet again you instruct me in the fact that I can’t possibly seek such a position. How can anyone be worthy of such? I’m not even certain how you do it, Great-grandfather and I’ve spent months now, with you sharing your tricks and knowledge with me daily.” She paused then and shrugged. “Anyway, I was teasing Anders, before you came up with yet another tale about his splendor. Which... I do understand why Naveed was worried about losing his place as Heir. At every turn he’s helping others. Even after conquering Yanse, he taught that message boy magic and saw to his further lessons, with Prince Daren. That alone would get you into the top ten on the postings. I mean, teaching princesses could have been you currying favor or even you grasping at a way up the list... Doing so for a page boy, unreported to anyone back home can’t do that for you at all.”

Depak frowned a bit then, but Hoatha didn’t.

He lit up, in fact.

“There is that, isn’t there? Still, Anders seems to be rather supportive of Naveed getting that promotion, in time. Best to stay away from Barquea for a while, so they can all forget you, given that, eh Anders? Now, there was talk of hunting? You and Salina are going to catch our dinner?” He kept his face blank, as if that were the real plan.

So Anders simply did the same thing and answered blandly.

“Correct. First, we need to find some animals to hunt, of course. Princess, can you do that while riding?” It was actually harder to stay seated on a horse while doing that than it sounded like it should be. He could manage it, now, but it had taken some real practice.

After making a face, the woman simply nodded.

“Maybe? Let me see here...”

Depak moved in closer to her, and had to steady her several times, over the next half of an hour, but eventually, her left hand came up, finger pointing to the same side.

“That way, about a mile. Something less than that? In a straight line though. There are deer, I think. A large herd of them.” She didn’t bother acting pleased with her efforts, which Anders checked, barely dropping into a trance.

“Indeed! I’ll be gone for about an hour and a half, meeting you all down the road?”

Prince Erold rolled his eyes at the proclamation.

“I’m going with you. We should take at least two others.”

Depak raised his right hand.

“Salina will act as one of those, since this is her duty, for the day. Who else do we have for that?” It was clear the man was willing to go himself. Also, that he understood that his going would mean that Salina would defer to him, instead of doing the work for herself.

“I’ll go, if that’s allowed?”

That came from Saffron, who looked like a scaled, faintly green, blonde lady. She was larger than a lot of people, including the soldiers marching with them. Other than that, she could pass as a normal woman, in the distance. She was even attractive in an exotic fashion. She was wearing tan trousers and a heavy shirt, but other than that she seemed lovely.

Anders smiled and gave a small bow in her direction.

“That’s a good team. I need to grab my bow and get someone to lead my horses.”

The Princess didn’t whine, though she made a face that seemed annoyed.

“Of course we’re walking. Why ride, when we have these wonderful feet, don’t you agree, Prince Erold?”

To his credit, Erold simply smiled about the idea.

“Agreed, Princess. It will be easier for us to walk than to take the horses through the brush that way. This isn’t a managed forest, from the look.”

That was true, but Salina simply altered her clothing and walked behind Anders, touching him on the back or shoulder occasionally. He figured it was about steadying herself on uncertain terrain, or even guiding him, since there was a bit of that, a few times.

Saffron, who was empty handed, with only a small knife at her side moved in and tapped him as well. Then she held a finger to her lips, and pointed with her other hand, into the distance. Sure enough, there past the trees and brush, stood at least fifteen deer. More than that, he knew. That was how many he could see, however. It was a good way off and through the trees.

No one was foolish enough to call out about the animals, thankfully. Erold and apparently Saffron were experienced enough to know that, but Salina, who had likely been hunting only on the trip they were currently on, also held to silence. The issue was that there was no clear shot. He could see the beasts, but there was no way he was hitting any of them with even a glancing blow. That didn’t mean he couldn’t kill them, of course.

He muttered for a bit, and then nocked the arrow smoothly, pulled the war bow back and let loose the instant he had a path to arc into the area the deer were to die in. There was no real sound, other than the shot being taken, the string humming gently. Not until there was a soft bumping noise, as several of the deer hit the ground. The others started, and a few walked away, but none of them bothered to run.

“We can go and collect them now.”

They were led to the spot by Saffron, who pointed and grinned when she saw the meat laying on the ground.

“You got six of them? With one arrow? Impressive! We should bleed these here, if we have time? This is a lot to carry. How are we doing that? I can take two, I think, but it won’t be easy.”

She looked at them covertly, as if she didn’t think they could each carry a deer of their own. Which was ridiculous.

“Salina and Erold will do that for us, while we stand guard. We could have Salina do it all, naturally, but I want Erold to get the practice.” Salina was the strongest of them there, magically speaking.

Erold did fine though, and was, Anders thought, as powerful as he was. Not as well trained, yet, but he definitely wasn’t weak that way.

The large scaled woman looked at the others and then nodded.

“That sounds easy for me, at least. I’ll be on the lookout? I don’t see or hear anything dangerous, yet.” She started to look around, as if she really meant it, at least.

“Good. I’ll try to find some roots and maybe some other things we can eat. Here, let me...”

He started to call out for various fruits, roots and greens. Only about half of the attempts got anything to happen. They had a nice group of roots and early greens regardless, after several moments. Those were both small, but there was enough for everyone to have some.

He also managed some onion greens.

The mass had to float behind him on the air, since he’d forgotten to bring a sack with him. It was no more impressive to look at than the deer hanging in the air, bleeding from their necks. Saffron had done that part for them, without asking if it was needed. His plan had been to make the others do it, but that worked well enough. Erold wasn’t going to balk at such a simple task and if Salina found it a problem, she was hiding it fairly well.

As the blood started to drip, instead of pour out in a thin line, from each of the six floating beasts, Anders nodded.

“Take three each. A single file line, I think? It will probably work better to have them hanging about ten feet up.”

He muttered for the roots and greens to rise higher in the air, and then into a line, to show what he meant. The others had greater burdens, so struggled a bit, with both of them having to use multiple spells to actually get the task done. That was fine, really. Not as fast perhaps, as using hand signs, but the work was well enough performed that a few moments later they were, carefully, picking their way through the brush. Saffron managed to move fairly quietly, but as a group they were kind of loud.

They found the road after fifteen minutes of fast, difficult, walking. Anders was fine, but Salina was gasping. Erold was as well, but in a softer way, clearly trying not to let that kind of weakness show. Saffron was fine, but wasn’t doing any magical work. A thing that Anders knew she could do, if not what exactly her skills were that way. She’d let some things slip, about having hidden herself that way, for a long time and, obviously, could change shape.

There were some interested glances at the floating things, but no commenting on it as being strange or wonderous in particular.

Once on the packed, hardened and smoothed road, they had to catch up to the group of wagons and marching soldiers. Several of the younger children cheered a bit when they saw them jogging up. Salina was not happy with the rushing around, but gasping too much to scold Anders over it.

“Master Andy! Is that for us?” The little girl who spoke was hushed, by an older boy, but they both seemed pleased when Prince Erold nodded.

His voice was rough, but not unkind.

“This is for everyone, when we stop later, since it needs to be cooked. We should... Is there room in any of the wagons for it?”

The driver of the wagon with Mary in it called out then, in answer.

“Make room for food in the wagons! Part that out. We should be stopping in about four hours.”

That last part made sense, given that the way they made room to carry the food was by kicking some of the more agile people out, so they could walk. Four hours of that wouldn’t harm anyone, so he didn’t really think about it for too long. He had a horse, so was going to ride, now that they were back on the road. At least that was his plan at first.

At least until he noticed that one of the people kicked out was a little boy who was limping pretty badly. He winced in pain with each step, but didn’t whine about it. He just did what was needed.

So, after the food was portioned into the four wagons, most of the meat going into the wagon the boy had come from, Anders went forward, got Brownie and brought her back.

“Here, I’ll help you up. Why are you limping?”

The boy shook his head, but after a moment, allowed Anders to pick him up, getting a bit of help from a taller boy, who was about his own age, and placing him on the horse.

The older one spoke to him.

“Tolly don’t talk. Not even before the war. He hears fine and could talk, we think, but he don’t. He started limping, about a week ago. No one saw what happened.”

There was a shoe on the foot, but when Anders touched it with his mind, steadying the child, he noticed that there were several broken bones across the top, a lot of swelling and inside, deeply set, was a pocket of white infection. It was harsh enough that Anders had to stop himself from hissing in sympathy.

He didn’t ask if the boy was fine with magic, just muttering.

“Tof ere ina fen.” The silent boy sat up straight then, his eyes wide. The other boy, still right there, walking next to them, doing the same.

“What didja do?”

“I just took the pain away from his foot. Now, the rest of this is going to be a bit different. Let me get the swelling down first? Then we need to drain the infection and set and heal the broken bones.” He focused on doing the work, first thing, holding his other questions for later. They probably weren’t important, after all.

As soon as he’d cleaned the boy, and taken the swelling away, they managed to slip the old, well worn, shoe off. There were some bright blue and purple bruises exposed then, which he took away with the next spell, moving carefully.

“Tof xeles ere fen.” He had to point, to show which foot was meant, but it worked well, the color draining away, almost instantly. Less than ten breaths later his foot looked misshapen, but a normal, pale, color.

Then, while walking, he had to focus, use his wizardry skills and more than a little effort to fix each of the bones, one at a time.

“There! You should be fine now.” He helped put the shoe back on, carefully. The boy, rather gingerly, as if fearing pain, hopped down. Favoring his right foot still. Then he tried to walk, simply wandering away. At first, at any rate. After a bit of moving without pain, he ran, as if showing the world that he was better again.

Before Anders could climb on his horse, a girl, who looked to be around the same age that Princess Lissa was, waved to him.

“Master Andy? I...” She moved in and whispered to him. “I’m cramping something awful. It’s my time... Is there anything you can do?”

That was a new idea to him, though he understood that women suffered due to their nature, once a month, often for days. Truly, being it was part of her and not an injury or illness, there wasn’t a lot of true healing that could be done at all. Instead of giving in that easily, he nodded, pretending to skill he didn’t have.

“Ina inna ere ot ere, neg ot neg, fen ot neeth.”

The girl stood up then.

“Ah. I’m healed?”

He had to shake his head.

“You weren’t ill, so no. I just helped with the pain, until sunrise tomorrow. If you need me, come get me then and we can repeat it. Before that, if anything comes up, of course.” He nodded, and patted her on the shoulder, pushing her ever so gently away. That forestalled any long drawn-out thanks, at least, though she did smile back at him, as she moved back toward the collection of children.

Which, he realized shortly, simply meant he was supposed to see the next patient, apparently. Bemused, he simply waited, and helped the boy with the reknitting of a muscle, his innards trying to poke out through the wall of his stomach. That took seven different spells, and some actual reforming of the flesh, to make happen. Still, as with the others, the boy seemed to be much relieved as he moved off.

Only to have another of the children come up to him. Then, one of the ladies with Mary. One he’d met before, but didn’t have a name for.

“Um... I have sores, on my... Where I sit? It hurts and bleeds when I feel the call of nature.”

Anders had read about that kind of thing before, at least, so wasn’t surprised at all. He simply repaired the damage, and removed the remaining inflammation. That did the trick it seemed, the rust haired woman sighing.

“That is much better! Girls, Master Andy is doing free healing...” She looked at him then and blushed. “I didn’t even ask if it was free...”

“It is! We should hurry, and see if any of the soldiers need anything, while we move?” It was all practice and if he wanted people to have a better, easier, time with magic, they needed to see it more often. In a way that wasn’t harmful or frightening. Healing didn’t really get that job done, he realized.

“Later I might do a small illusion show? Just a bit of entertainment. If anyone wants to see it?” They might not, of course.

“I’ve heard that the folk of Istlan have given up being afraid of magic now and instead have decided on a calm skepticism about it, instead?”

The woman winked at him, then patted him on the arm.

“That sounds fine, Master Andy. I’ll let everyone know, in case anyone wants to see it? I don’t know about the rest of that. It sounds... Right? We just won a war using magic. Before that only happened to us, not the other way around. We should show respect to magic, given that?”

He nodded.

“As much as you would any useful tool or craftsman, at least. No more than that, of course. It’s magic, but only a skill, like many things.”

With that, he got back to work. A lot of people had things that they needed to have seen to, it turned out.

Chapter twenty-one

Anders had used magic for several hours, healing various things. Only a few people required more than that, however. He was holding three spells for pain relief, but those weren’t particularly energy intensive matters and all would fade at sunrise the next day.

As he rode, next to Hoatha and Depak Sona, just behind Sir Daniel, he sighed.

“I need to perform an illusion show, for the people here. Especially the children. What do you think I should do for that?”

Everyone was being invited to speak on the topic, but only Hoatha did and that came after about ten seconds of thinking.

“For the people here? Children who have been far too near the darkness of war not long ago? I would suggest, something light. Happy things, to delight, instead of visions of dire things.”

Depak turned a bit to look at him, while riding.

“I concur. Also, small things? Your full shows are grand, of course, but perhaps a few simple tricks, with a bit of showmanship and flourish, instead of all reality falling away under everyone’s feet?”

He hadn’t really been thinking of his other shows in that light, but there was some truth in the statement. Not that he was going to stop doing that. Part of the fun of such illusions was that you could see a thing that was so different it ordered the mind to attention. That didn’t mean he couldn’t take good advice however. There, in that moment, his audience had different needs than they might at a jaded court or a land that easily accepted new magics.

“Small things? Lights and... I’m at a loss.”

There was a clearing of the throat, from in front of them.

Coming from Erold.

“Why not ask them what they want to see? Then you can work around that?”

It was a bit risky, but he nodded. If the show wasn’t completely professional, he doubted that the children watching would be pointing too harsh a finger in his direction.

“After we eat the late meal, then? That and make camp, of course.” It was the tenth night of their trip, but the first one with the wagons that followed behind them. Anders refused to let himself hunch over, simply going still for a moment. Depak saw it happen, and was looking at him, as if to ask him to share.

That was a mistake on his part, of course.

“We need to tend to all the animals. Healing. Especially the ones pulling the wagons in the back. I did some healing for everyone, earlier, so that shouldn’t be too in demand at the moment. Also, we need to repair all the wagons. I’m kind of amazed that any of them made it this far.” He could do all of that, of course, and was willing to spend his time on it.

The trick was, he really could have taken those tasks. What he wanted was for Prince Erold to have a go at one. Except that he doubted he could really order that done. Not even for practice. Not now that they were back in Istlan. It was a thing that could harm the Prince’s practice, if it carried forward, of course. So he sighed.

“Which of you, is doing which, or are you sharing both tasks?” He glanced at Salina, then at Erold.

Who rolled his eyes a bit.

“I knew I should have paid more attention to the wood working section. I have that though. Healing as well. I should really do both.”

Amazingly, Salina agreed.

“Myself, as well. I should have been seeing to such things as we traveled, as Anders has done. I didn’t even think of it. Some Great One I’m turning out to be, eh, Depak Sona?” It was nearly the first time she’d referred to the man that way. Before that it had always been calling him grandfather, or Great One.

The man, speaking in Istlan, shrugged expressively. His face held a soft smile.

“I didn’t think of it either, did I? I’ll raise housing for us all, if there’s space for it. Father, if you would see to wood and water? Anders, you’re preparing the food?”

That seemed fine with everyone, even Ganges, who seemed more than willing to perform the low camp tasks for them. Why that was, Anders wasn’t really certain. The man had been a ruler, time and again, through the last thousand and more years. Now he was traveling around, with Farad, but not really doing much, other than living, day to day.

That seemed a little strange. Anders, now that he’d thought about it, would have guessed the man would have been pressing him to engage in adult acts, or, perhaps, guiding him, as one might a student. Instead, he was simply there, in the background. Watching Anders, but seldom seeming to seek him out. No more than Anders did the other way around. Which made sense to him.

Ganges had been a friend of his, who had come a few times per month, to talk and visit, after he left the hermitage. It hadn’t truly shocked him to find the man at his death bed, to say his goodbyes, but he’d never considered them as being closer than that. Perhaps the man had, at one time, been something of a surrogate son to him. To find that he’d lived past that point, youth returned after he was placed in the crystal and having become the man’s lover...

That still left him feeling uneasy. As if it couldn’t have been true.

When he’d first heard of that, Anders, the boy, had rebelled internally. Farad, being an old man, had wondered if the words had been true or not. He was not, as he’d assured Ganges, a lover of men. Then, if Ganges the Great Wizard had wanted to change that, a spell or potion might well have been easily enough had to ensure it.

That wouldn’t even need to be a forced thing or one of evil, truly. If his friend had lamented Farad’s lacks, and found a way for him to serve well enough, without harm, he might well have done it, of his own accord. Indeed, he might have even done that, eventually without such inducements. It didn’t feel correct to him though. Even if the tale told seemed well enough founded.

At least to the point he could check. It had happened so long before that Farad had no way to truly know if what he’d been told had taken place at all. Ganges had challenged him, at first, as to if he believed such a tale, at least that he was the original Ganges. Farad had, of course, shown skepticism, but the truth was, he’d more or less simply trusted the man, even while counseling others to be careful in that regard.

It was a thing that he probably couldn’t have helped. To him, a little over a year and a half before, Ganges had literally soothed his brow, as he’d been passing away. Joking with him, seeming tearful and as if it were simply correct for him to be there with him at the end. Now the man, the very same fellow, rode a tan horse not ten paces from him.

Except that they were in a far-off land, a thousand and five hundred years later. Perhaps even more than that. It rankled Farad that he didn’t know precisely how much time he’d missed, sitting locked in a crystal. At the same time, his friend had grown and changed, in ways that he doubted would be within his ability to understand.

That, in and of itself, could be the difference he was noticing. He looked at Ganges and saw a young man, the same one who had left his tutelage, after basically raising him for ten years. Indeed, he looked slightly younger than that. Ganges on the other hand looked to him and had to see some strange boy, who seemed little like his old mentor at all. He was the wrong coloration, nearly as tall as a child as he had been in his first life, since Anders was going to be huge when fully grown... He had to seem, in almost every single way, like he wasn’t Farad at all.

Which was correct.

He was Anders now. Even that boy was different. Merged with him, in a way that was impossible to separate totally now.

True, Ganges had left his old home in the red desert to be with him, but it was clear that the man had either changed so much that it was hard for him to be friends now, with anyone, or that he was disappointed in Farad for not being himself any longer. It was the only thing he could think of when he considered why Ganges was acting as distant as he was.

Even that wasn’t lacking in friendliness, truly. It was as if they were just too different. Anders was, he knew, not the way Farad had once been. Then, Ganges wasn’t as he’d been, either. The boy, the man in his fifties, even, who had been part of his life for so long wasn’t there in the man who rode with him.

Which was probably the price of time’s passage. The Ganges of old, on finding that Farad was back, even in part, would have sat with him, for hours, if not days, telling him all about what had happened in the time he slumbered. This Ganges had traveled with him, and talked of the weather. At times of magic, or philosophical outlook on life.

He’d barely mentioned what had taken place at all. What bits he had let loose were about the time after Farad had been healed, after being imprinted by the crystal, and how they’d lived together. Not the wars, or times of peace that had happened. He hadn’t offered the names of books or spoken of interesting people who he’d met. There was no talk of his children, either.

The Lerna, an entire race of a sort, made of magic, had all been of his line. Saffron was his five times great-granddaughter, or something like that. Anders didn’t even know if Depak was his last child or not. It had been hinted at, but not spoken of directly.

When Ganges had been younger, he’d spoken often. Enough that the other historians had labeled him a chatterer. It was a bit of an unkind jest, but in that silent place, the boy had spread noise and consideration of everything, all the time.

Now the man was silent, unless engaged with directly. Smiling, but empty, at the same time.

Anders probably had some of that going for himself, so wasn’t going to call attention to that particular point of behavior, but it was truly there. They seemed to be friendly, but he wasn’t at all certain that the man thought of him as a friend. Not the one who he was supposed to be. For a moment, he felt very sorry for him. Especially if he was supposed to be the replacement for his long-lost love.

Lost in thought, Anders was taken by surprise when Sir Daniel pointed to the side of the road, on the right. There was a meadow, with the sound of running water at the back of it. Also a turn off, that wasn’t a real road, but which did lead to the grassy expanse. That wasn’t too high, but it was enough for the horses to graze on, without having to search for vast amounts of fodder that night. The oxen and mules with the wagons, as well.

In the direct center was a large stone ring, that had obviously been used for cooking in the past. The remnants of burnt wood, a large log end and a tower of rocks on either side, meant for a spit to be used. Not that he had one of those with him. He was traveling on horse this time, without a wagon at all. Carrying heavy iron rods wasn’t going to be taking place, given that.

Still, he had some good cast iron pots, and could make a spit using green wood. That would have to be protected by the meat being cooked, but would work well enough, for the one night. Anders laid out a heavy oiled cloth, to butcher the meat on, and then went to find where all the food had been put. He didn’t speak to anyone, but he did wave at a few people, and tried to smile a lot. That was hard to do, for some strange reason. The kids, in particular, simply did it back. Some of the women did as well, as he floated a large train of things behind him, back to where Depak was raising a magical house for them to sleep in that night. Then, before he was even halfway through taking the skins off the deer and butchering them, the man started in on a barracks for the soldiers.

Then he put up several similar structures for the women and children. A thing that no one had mentioned at all. They weren’t, strictly speaking, traveling together. Except that, to Depak, a great and generous man, that clearly didn’t make any difference. By the time Anders had all the meat ready to be cooked, seasoned with salt from his supplies, and a bit of spice from his little kit of such things, he started some roots, in water he called into being with magic, instead of walking to the stream, and went into the woods, taking down a small sapling, to strip, using it as a spit for the food.

He did most of the work using magic, just for the practice of it. When Mary and Betha showed up, both smiling as if it were a fun activity, instead of a chore, the slightly elder woman, looking fine in her now bright clothing, laughed.

“There’s barely anything left to do here at all! Do you want us to do other things for you?”

The idea caused Farad to close down a bit, but Anders, who was a very different person, merely nodded. It was enough to cause the old historian to panic a bit, until he spoke.

“Could you take some of the uncooked things around for people to make for themselves? I’m not going to be able to cook for everyone. Also, let them know that I’ll be doing a small show, for entertainment, after the meal? Everyone is invited, but it’s mainly for the children. Little magics and what not.” He waved then, to show it wasn’t a large thing.

Which was the whole point of doing it. To show people that magic wasn’t odd or scary. Just another tool to be used. To their benefit, if at all possible.

Betha took a deep breath, went slightly wide eyed, and then... Smiled.

“We can surely do that! How exciting. We haven’t had much for entertainment, for a while. I tried to tell some stories a few times and Warna can sing really pretty, so did that, but it wasn’t much. The winter was harsh that way.”

Muttering a spell and pointing, Anders caused the meat to start to rotate over the fire. It was early to have it going, but the wood was burning down well enough for some of the heat to be fairly steady. The flames licked higher in places, as the first fat started to drip into it, but that was how the method worked. Mary looked at the motion, and smirked.

“You’ve gotten better at magic, haven’t you?”

The words got a simple nod from him. It was, he had to figure, true enough.

“I’ve been practicing a lot. Teaching as well, which tends to push one to learn as well, as strange as that sounds. Then the war... Well, that pushes at everyone, doesn’t it?”

The women, both of them, were watching the spinning food cook.

“That it does, Master Andy. We’ll go and take things around. For the soldiers, too? We can see if any want to spend some coin with us, Betha, after the free show.” She reached out, and put her hand on Anders’ arm. He was, he noticed, taller than she was now. She wasn’t tiny for a woman, either, so that was interesting.

“We’ll be right back.”

That was true, since they each had to make at least ten trips, taking collections of food and hopefully messages, to everyone. Anders had food for his people ready at least half an hour before everyone else did, so passed out bowls of boiled tubers, with seasoned greens on top, that had been lightly fried, and large hunks of venison. He’d made a bit too much, so took extra for himself, and made certain that Depak, who had built seven fairly large structures, got some as well. It was favoritism, but the man had earned the food.

No one else said anything, but a few of them took more, smiling about it, as if they were being selfish, trying to replace the energy lost while working with magic. Just because he hadn’t tracked what everyone had been doing didn’t mean it hadn’t taken place. Still, he sat near the central fire, eating meat off the tip of his smallest knife, when one of the women who had joined them walked up, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Forgive me... The meat, it fell into the fire and I didn’t see it in time. I... My children shouldn’t have to eat ash or go hungry, for my mistake.” She swallowed, and hunched her narrow shoulders. “I’m not a very good cook.”

There was extra meat left and some roots, so Anders waved at it. They had uncooked meat as well, about half of it, but he planned to use that the next day.

“Let’s use the prepared food up first? Is that enough?”

The lady smiled, showing she was missing a tooth in the front, on the top.

“Oh, thank you! It should be plenty, Master Andy. I... Thank you.” She waited, not taking it for herself, so he got up, leaving his half-filled bowl on the ground, and liberated his second largest pot, which had roots in it, and served up some of the greens, on top, then sliced the meat off of the spit, which still spun. That took a bit of skill, but he more or less managed it.

“I’ll need the pot back, before morning. What’s your name, if it’s all right to ask?”

“Oh! I’m Sarath. Sarath Smith. My husband, Bix, is a Sergeant, with the third division. They’re still on the border, to the north, in case the Yansies come back at us. I never met up with him. I thought... well, coming this way wasn’t the best plan, turned out. I was to take in wash for soldiers and ended up...” She shook her head then, not going into what she’d had to do in order to survive. “Well. Thanks to all of you, for the food. I’ll have this pot back directly.”

She carried the thing away, struggling slightly under the weight of it. Not that it was huge, she was just thin and clearly, weak.

Anders sat back down and ate his food, not thinking about the woman having had to whore herself out for bits of food, in order to keep her children alive. At least after a moment. Instead, he planned out what kind of show he was going to perform. Taking Depak and Hoatha’s advice, as well as what the others had said, he worked out a plan. The trick was, he knew, to keep things fairly small.

If anyone wanted to see him do it, in the first place.

Instead of him having to go to the fires of the others, people came to find him, when darkness fell. Settling on the ground, with the stone firepit in the middle. The idea of working while surrounded wasn’t at all strange to him, since that was how stories were recounted.

He cleaned up, removed the meat from the fire and moved to the remaining piles of meat, freezing it all, for the next day. Then, muttering softly, altered his clothing, from the sturdy green trousers and tunic he had on, into shining silk robes, in a light blue, with a white pattern of dragons on the front, in stitch work.

Then he held his hands up to the side, rather dramatically.

“Welcome, all of you! It looks like we have everyone here? Good! Now, I’m going to produce some illusions, for your entertainment! You all know what illusions are, don’t you?” He leaned in, then spun in place, because there were people on all sides of him.

One of the children, a young boy, being kind and helpful, bothered to answer.

“Illusions are things that aren’t really there.”

He waved and smiled.

“Exactly! Things that have no weight, cannot harm and while they might look like anything, they aren’t truly there. Still, we can show wonders with them. Sights you have never seen! Sounds you have never heard! Smells you have never... Er, smelt? Scented?” He grinned, and raised his eyebrows, which got a polite chuckle.

Then he brought his hands together.

“Now, call out what you’d like to see, and I’ll make it appear. Keep in mind, these are harmless and not real, so be creative!”

Naturally, no one said anything for nearly twenty seconds, as he waited. Finally, one of the soldiers spoke, his voice playful.

“A blue pony?”

Anders didn’t answer, simply forming the image he wanted in his mind, adding power to it. There was a soft gasp, when the tiny animal, no higher than his knee, trotted around the fire pit. Then it made the rounds, first moving in a circle, the soft clip clop of hooves on dirt audible, and then, tentatively, the vision moved closer to some of the children. One of them tried to pat the thing, his hand moving through its back.

Ander pointed.

“I did mention they aren’t really there? Now, what’s next?”

A girl, who looked to be no older than four or five, stood up.

“A ball? A red one?”

He nodded, and built the vision out of thought and magic. Floating in the air in front of the girl. She tried to tap it, which, with some timing and focus, he moved. She tried to toss it to him, so he mimicked catching it, which looked fairly real. As they did that back and forth a few times, he started to alter the color. First to light blue, then green, then to a glowing gold color.

Then he caused it to grow, until it was the size of his own head.

It was tossed to a few other people, and back to the little girl, several times. Then two more were created, and he pretended to juggle them, which had some hooting going on, at his apparent skill. Probably because he could actually juggle. Not well, but Farad had learned as a child, as an entertainment. Oddly, Anders had done the same thing, so they both had a few tricks to show that way. It didn’t hurt that he was creating the balls, which had to fly in the way he demanded.

After half a minute of that, two of the balls were tossed up into the air, very high, and vanished. Then, holding his left hand out, the glowing globe cracked open, like an egg. There was a popping sound, and he walked around the circle, pointing at what was happening. The creature that climbed out was, fearsomely enough, a rather normal sized puppy. It was tan in color, and seemed rather real. It scampered out into the crowd, pretending to climb up Princess Salina, then hopping away, jumping from person to person, around the circle. Several people jumped or ducked from the tiny beast, as it playfully leapt at them, but no one seemed upset.

Then he made other things. A tiny wagon, with an ox, and a driver. That, the driver, was a two-foot-high version of Sir Daniel, who waved as he rounded the circle. After that, he was asked for a dancing girl.

Anders nearly lost a step then, but managed to start some music, in the Barquean style, and then did a version of the one show he recalled of scantily clad ladies dancing. The trick was putting them in rather more clothing, since what was tradition in that far off warm land would be shocking there in Istlan. It could be, at any rate. So, instead of thin cloth that could be seen through, they wore the same fashions, but in solid red and orange cloth.

There were bits of jewelry showing, copied from the real ladies he’d seen. Their faces were the same as he recalled, so each of the six women was different that way. Clearly foreign, of course.

No one seemed to mind too much. People started to clap along with the music, several of the children moving to dance as well. Just in place, which was good, since holding six illusions as well as music, on all sides of himself at once took a lot of focus. Adding all of them at once would be too much for his current skill level, he knew. When the song ended, and the women held their poses at the end, he slowly had them fade away.

Some other things were called out, and he added a few of his own, with some more music, ending on a set of glowing insects in several colors, each the size of his hand. They flew in entrancing patterns, then landed, stepped back to the fire pit stones, each sitting on one, glowing merrily. Then they vanished, the sounds ending.

“That, for today, is the end of the show. Thank you all for being here to witness it.”

There was clapping of hands then and calling out for more. They didn’t get it, since he wanted to save something for the next show. That, he decided, would be in a few days and if possible, wouldn’t be him doing it. Who he could get to try it, he didn’t know, but he wanted to show other people doing fun and happy things as well. That way it wouldn’t be just him, but magic itself that wasn’t all that frightening.

Bowing, he left the circle, and changed his clothing back to his former green outfit. Prince Erold walked up to him, his face pleasant, but not really happy seeming.

“That was very different! I was half expecting monsters and a new world being shown. This worked however, didn’t it? Small things, shown in a way that informed, instead of being strange or frightening. They all know what an illusion is now, don’t they? You should do something different, next time. Maybe wizardry? Tell people what numbers they are thinking or something like that?”

He agreed, after a fashion.

“Magician skills? I was thinking that you could do that part, so that it isn’t just me being seen doing such things? We probably don’t want to point out to people that we can read their minds. Simple things, though. Starting a fire, putting one out, calling water from the air, and that kind of thing?”

The boy, who was a man now, having seen battle several times, rolled his eyes.

“I suppose I can do that. Though, wouldn’t it work better to go around and actually do that for people? At least if simple things like that are the plan.”

He stopped then, looked away and shook his head.

“I... When did I start to think of calling water from the air and making things burst into flame as simple things?”

Anders didn’t know, so had no answer for the question. Instead, he patted the man on the shoulder.

“In three days or so? I need to work on music, I think. What I have so far is a bit simplistic. I’ve heard better, so should be able to repeat it. That doesn’t mean I can make original things, of course.” He could hum a new tune, after a fashion, but hadn’t been trained to such things.

No part of him had been.

The words got a nod, from the other boy.

“That works. Everyone likes music, after all. Not that it’s on us to provide entertainment. I get doing this, since we’re on the road, but back at the castle, that would be considered beneath our station. You need to keep that in mind? Um...” He looked away then and shook his head. “Alpert asked me to talk to you? About making books, for coin. That... It’s a good idea, but you can’t do it. That will make it look like you’re focused on coin, instead of on the people, as you’re supposed to be, as a prince there. That...”

Anders looked at his friend for a moment. His uncle, for all he never thought of him that way.

“Yes? This is the first I’m hearing about that... Explaining that earlier would have helped a bit, in my plans. I can see if Daren and Jeld want to try it? Walden... Honestly, I should get him to focus on that, since he’s worried about having to make his way in the world, for himself and his mother. Prince Alpert could have simply told me no, don’t you suppose?” It would have allowed him to focus in the right direction, sooner.

That got an exasperated sound from the Prince, as they walked, toward where they were staying for the night. It was a well decorated home, in bright blue and green.

“Could he, Anders? You took Yanse. You. Yes, with an army there and helpers, but you led the charge and did most of the work. One single man, storming a kingdom. Then you passed the wealth from it to the Army, directly from your hand. Each of the men with us would slit my throat, to back you, if you wanted it done. Alpert wants to steer you toward proper behavior, but he doesn’t know what he can ask of you at all, now. I know that Father has asked if you planned to take over, there. Master Tolan has communicated with me five times on that very topic, over the last months.”

“I’m not.”

“I know that Anders, and told them as much. The thing is, if you aren’t planning to take Yanse, what are you planning to take? No one knows right now, and that’s leaving some very powerful people feeling rather uneasy.”

Chapter twenty-two

It took weeks to cross half of Istlan and nearly that much of Yanse, of course. Anders was fine on the trip, but felt a bit down, on seeing home again. The castle of King Mathias. It wasn’t that his time there had been bad in any way. Not truly. He’d lived a life of privilege, after a fashion. Never to the level that a prince was given, but he’d had steady food, a warm bed at night and no one had harmed him, outside of weapons practice.

Even that had mainly been Guard Cohen, who, assassin or not, had actually helped to harden and train him greatly, in the weeks they’d worked together. Nearly as much on his own as all the other training that Anders had been given, combined.

Farad understood the reason for the dark feelings, having age on his side, compared to the boy with him. When they were traveling, they were useful. He hunted and prepared food, which people valued. He’d done a few little shows and even played music at the fire, some nights, for people to listen to. Every few days he took a turn improving the meadows that people stayed in, adding temporary housing, which they left up, for others to use for years to come.

At the castle he was, of course, simply Anders again. Even if that hadn’t truly been what had happened, the last time he’d returned. No, he’d thrown himself into work, bribing servants into bettering their lives. A thing that had failed, it seemed.

Not that he knew that yet, having just ridden in, with the others. The wagons had all drifted away, over the last days, with only the whores staying with them until they reached the city near the castle. They weren’t all from there, but it seemed that the men they traveled with had become fond of some of them, and a few had even talked of legitimate marriage. That was too great a prize to pull away from any of them, so the woman in charge had kept going. They were planning to turn back, toward their base, in a few days. If they couldn’t find places in the city, that was.

So, dressed in finery that left him feeling conspicuous, surrounded by others in the same state, the six riders moved to the front of the dwelling, to find about forty people there to officially meet them. Oddly, there were also watchers. Servants, but some who must have come from the city. Indeed, there were thousands of them. When they moved up the road, lined on either side with bodies, a great cheer went up.

Anders didn’t get it at all, though Depak sighed and leaned over, to whisper to him. He still had to be loud, since they were nearly ten feet away.

“Smile, Anders. I think they might be here for you.”

He did paste a grin on his face, but it was clearly questioning, since Salina spoke about it.

“You’re their Great One, after all, aren’t you? Though, I suppose they could be welcoming their victorious Prince Erold? Is that common here? I mean, it isn’t unheard of for a Prince gone to war to have such back home, so I could see it being that.”

So could Anders, really. Given the Istlan fear of magic, even if they were going to do better in the future, that seemed right.

The important part was that no one got in their way, on the stone road, so they were able to dismount in front of the King, Queen, and Heir. Several others as well, including his own mother, and the Barquean Princesses. The other ones. Interestingly, it was the blond Prince, Robarts, who moved forward, bowing toward them. He did it back, going into second courtly, his left knee well bent.

The man spoke loudly.

“Hail, the returning heroes!” He actually yelled it, which got a response from the crowd.

“Hail! Hail! Hail!”

Several servants ran over, to take their horses, with more stripping their packs and gear, to remove it to their places inside. Anders tried to hold a smile on his face, as he felt suddenly uneasy. It was only the press of people, reminding him of battle, of course.

The Heir moved in, and clapped Erold on the arm.

“Brother! Welcome home. We have a meal planned, this evening, in celebration of your return. Also, good news for you. Princess Sweyn, your lady wife, is with child.” The man leaned in then, and whispered, though loudly enough for those standing there to hear. “The timing works. It’s yours. I just didn’t want you to be left shocked and dumfounded, later.”

Anders patted the Prince on the arm.

“How wonderful! Congratulations! I should get a present for her.” He had some small things to give, from Yanse, but they really weren’t grand enough for such an occasion. Bits of braided ribbon and some silverwork in the style of that land.

A few interesting tools, and knives. Nothing too heavy, since Chestnut had been set to carrying it all the whole way.

Robarts moved toward him then, and repeated the clap on the arm.

“Anders! We have a meeting, after the celebratory meal? You’re expected for that. Truly, plan to dine at the high meal, from now on, unless you have leave not to? Father wishes a word with you, with both of you, in private, directly after this.” The words were oddly serious seeming.

Anders looked around again, for attack, and nodded.

“I’ll stand ready.”

Depak was greeted in a similar fashion, with Hoatha getting another bow. Princess Salina was given a small hug however, in the polite court fashion, with a pretend kiss to the cheek, and Saffron, very interestingly received the same. After she was called by name.

“Now, some of you should be shown to your rooms. Erold, you and Anders should meet at my office? If you have time at the moment, of course, Anders?”

He grinned, since there was going to be a bit more than that first.

“After I say hello to my mother and congratulate Princess Sweyn? Unless this is pressing, in which case, we can plan those things for later?”

The King himself moved forward, smiling a bit. He seemed strained when looking at Ganges, but that was, perhaps, to be expected. He was, or had been thought to be, their greatest adversary, not long before.

“There’s time for a few hugs and well wishes now, of course!” The man seemed calm and official, though he did spare a pat on the arm for Prince Erold. “We can, of course, wait on your convenience, Sir Anders?”

That was, other than as a jest, the first time anyone had referred to him that way. It seemed a good bit more real, coming from the King, for some reason.

He didn’t need to refresh himself, so smiled back.

Then, for the life of him, couldn’t work out what he was supposed to say. That he’d hurry, most likely, or that he did, indeed, have something to see to. Which wasn’t true at all. So, lacking words for the moment, he bowed to the man, using first courtly.

That got a knowing nod, as if it weren’t the wrong thing to do, thankfully.

Then, he was nearly taken to the ground, by his mother, who had Lady Martya beside her.

“There you are!” He was hugged for a good long time, Lady Lyse finally letting go of him after nearly a full minute. “So, it will be a bit harder to hide your exploits from me this time. I fear news of your heroism has rather traveled.”

Lady Martya moved in as soon as Lyse let go of him, for her own hug. That didn’t last as long, but seemed well meant enough. Then, they were, in a strange fashion, also old friends. She was also attractive, which Anders noted, actually forcing himself into a trance to prevent a response to her being pressed against him, before she let go. That got her to go slightly wide eyed, which had to be forced on her part. She might not have been the original Ganges, being her own, new, person, but she’d been alive for hundreds of years.

Anders doubted much that he could do would surprise or amaze her.

“Lady Martya! How have you been? Is all well here?”

It was the smallest of chatter, meant to be polite. The woman tilted her head, however.

“I’ve slowed my efforts on this continent, for now. Things are going well, that way, however. I’d thought that Yanse would take Istlan, but the other way around works just as well. Perhaps better, since Mathias and his sons are better leaders than Yarler and his family were. Now, I need to go and give Saffron a hug as well. We’ll talk, soon?”

He nodded, since that was probably required. Especially since she’d just admitted that her plans, while slowed, were ongoing there. A thing that Ganges himself hadn’t really spoken of that way.

Many of the onlookers noticed the scaled woman in their midst, but no one seemed shocked and several relaxed when Lady Martya, clearly a noble of some sort, even if not well known to the public, moved in, held her without dying, then started to speak to her in a strange tongue.

It was all small talk, as far as Anders could tell. In Farad’s language, if with some changes having been made over time. They spoke of the trip, and how Saffron hadn’t found a husband yet. Though, she had to admit rather happily, having learned to speak Istlan had opened a lot up for her that way. A few of the soldiers had been polite to her and one had even asked her to bed.

She’d refused, for the time being, but hadn’t actually turned the man away, so far.

As he listened to them, he was suddenly pulled back. Then several women took turns holding him, from various directions.

They were, in the main, princesses.

Pretty close to all of them, actually. After a few moments he got his feet under him and, smiling, hugged Princess Sweyn, lightly.

“Congratulations! Prince Robarts warned his brother, so he wouldn’t jibber when you told him later. I was close enough to overhear.”

Instead of being upset that her good news had been stolen from her, she smiled, her cute face, a nice tan color, seeming sweet.

“I was taken by surprise, it happening so quickly. I...” She looked to the side, where Princess Lissa stood. Waiting for her own turn. “We’ll speak later?”

He bowed, which simply meant that Lissa was closer to his level when she jumped in and held him for a bit. Tightly.

She then sighed.

“I could use your help, with the remaining students? I... Stopped paying them. I told them they were good enough to start earning their own coin, which is working decently well. I need to know what they should be learning next. I’m in that same place, so...”

It was always easier to be taught than to figure out what was desired for yourself.

“I’ll work up some texts for that? In several languages... It will take some days. For now, well, I’ll need to review what they’ve been doing and then we should discuss what you think they need to know, for their lives and places in the world.”

She was their main teacher, after all. He’d done the task for some weeks. Lissa had been there doing the work for several months. Enough that it was early summer, already. The day showed it, as well, being mildly hot, standing there, outside of the castle as they were. The air was rich with scents. Some were familiar, even on the road. The scent of animals, and people out in the sun, but also wood smoke and a hint of something sweet, on the wind. Flowers.

None were visible, but they liked to grow in the meadows around the place.

His portion of saying hello to people was basically done for the time being. A few people happened past, to wish him well, but the truth was, he didn’t know most of them personally. Nobles, who he had names for, but who he’d never met to speak to, personally.

Not until Count Verit strode up, dressed in a mainly white outfit, with hose and a tunic that was belted at the waist. It was a very unusual look, but Anders managed a smile for the man, since his hair, short and red, reminded him a bit of Page Walden.

“Count Verit! How have you been? Are you feeling well?” He pointed lightly with one finger, toward his head. Resisting the urge to look inside of the man, without his permission.

“Sir Brolly! I’m well, in fact. A bit ashamed to have not ridden out to war, before. I should have, but...”

Anders shook his head.

“No, you shouldn’t have. You needed the time to heal and recover. You look to be in good health now, which was the important portion of things at the time. Also, you sent those treats to the men. I was asked to give you their thanks, when we met again. More than one soldier put in for that, as well.” Which was actually true, even if he hadn’t thought of it in nearly two months.

The man, rather gracefully, waved that away. A low thing, near his waist.

“You mean the payment for my life? I’m glad it was of use to those at war, but it was you who asked for that gift for them. So, I look a bit low right now, even with that. Not that I can’t do better, now. Thanks to you. I was allowed to rest here, hoping that I could hear of some other duty or battle needed, now that my health has returned, as well as my wit. Do you know of anything, that way?”

He didn’t really, so frowned, but also tilted his head.

“Let me ask around on that topic? I need to get caught up here. Still, for the moment, know that you did the right thing. Dying on the road, as you valiantly bounced on the back of a horse, due to a bleeding brain would have aided no one.”

He meant it, but the man actually chuckled, as if it were a jest.

“Ah, now, if only the rest of these people could be informed of that.”

“You mean the same people who also stayed here and didn’t go off to the war? I’m sure they all had equally good reasons, of course.” Some would, really. Women, the noble ones, didn’t go to war there, for instance. Some would be too aged, or had tasks that were needed for the war, there at the court.

Master Tolan had the excuse and had supported the war rather vitally, from a distance.

Count Verit looked around, a bit slyly and nodded.

“I had noted that one, myself. Still, keep an ear for me on the topic? I do want to do my part if it’s needed. I haven’t been able to, for some years now.”

Anders gave a choppy nod, locking eyes with the man. He wasn’t old, but was aged enough to feel his place was in defending his people.

Then Anders was signaled to, from near the Queen. Princess Aisla, a babe in arms, smiled at him as he approached.

“There he is, Leopold, your brother, Anders.” The baby had brown eyes, and skin more tanned than his own, but lighter than his mother.

“Hello, Brother! I have a present for you, in my things. You as well, Princess Aisla. Nothing large of course. I traveled on horseback, so...”

She smiled a bit larger.

“Ah? Well, that will go over well, I bet. As well as a full report, as to what’s happened over there? We’ve been told a bit, from Master Tolan, but he’s been remarkably closed lipped on much of it. Was Salina too large of a bother? I was worried on that score.” She looked at the other Princess, who was standing with her other sisters, as if she could be nothing less than a problem.

Anders turned, so his back was to the other Princess, looking at Aisla, his face blank.

“She stood for Barquea, as their new Great One in training. In battle, several times. Then labored, remaking both a water and sewage system in a large city, along with Depak Sona and Master Jeld, the former servant here. She also helped to fix wagons, using magic, as well as heal, on the way back here. Both people and animals. I’m certain she thinks that we were mocking her, suggesting she take up the mantle of Great One, but Depak Sona isn’t making light of it. He’s pushed her as a personal apprentice, for that task, over the last months.” He grinned then. “There has been some occasional whining, but the truth is that has largely faded. Now we need to keep her busy, for long enough that the habit truly breaks.”

The woman blinked at him, several times, then started to smile, stopped and gave a rather curt nod.

“I see. I’d ask if you were making a jest, except that you wouldn’t on that score. Not with me, at least. That’s... Wonderful news, of course! I’ll have to inform Father. I’ve mentioned the good works that the others here have been doing, already. I’m a bit slow, sending messages, so far, but have been practicing several times per week.”

“Good. You should move that to daily. Even if it’s just sending something to me, for the practice. You’ve been going over the rest of your magic more? Now that the servants here go around doing that kind of thing?”

She made a face, then sighed.

“Enough to make you happy over it? Doubtful. I do practice each day, a bit. I admit, having the girl that comes to clean my chambers tossing spells around does push me to do a bit better. Things are changing that way here, I think. King Mathias announced how pleased he was that the people of Istlan are giving up their old fears of magic and seeking such skills to make our kingdom a mightier place. Word that we took Yanse at each turn in battle, using that, seems to have made a difference as well. Your name has been spoken frequently, of late.”

Anders frowned.

“You’re the second or third person to mention that in the last minutes. Is it something I need to be aware of, do you think?”

The woman didn’t say no, but also didn’t speak, her lips going tight. Why that was, he couldn’t tell.

Eventually she made a sound again.

“It’s good to have you back. Do you have plans yet?”

“Only in that I’m off to meet with some people, already. I should see to that, soon, in fact. If you’re well, here?” He watched her carefully, in case she was trying to tell him something, but she simply bent her knees a fraction.

“For now. We’ll speak, later, perhaps?”

He smiled and nodded at the words, which were uncharacteristically dark, for her.

“Later, then.” He bowed, since he probably sounded a bit curt. It wasn’t his intent at all. In fact, he was slightly baffled, at the strange way the woman was acting.

Hinting at him being spoken of, but not simply telling him why it might be a problem. If it was about that at all. There had been rumors before he’d left, about him being more than a mere boy. It was true enough, being he had someone else in his head with him, but that alone shouldn’t have become something so major. Not really. Even if people believed it, they’d probably more or less agree that he wasn’t a person to worry over and go on their way.

No one there, including people in the crowd, still watching for some reason, seemed to care that he was there. None acted frightened at least.

He started to simply walk into the castle, through the open door, when he noticed that not one, but four men were following him inside. Two were castle guards, so people he recognized. The others were the King and Prince Robarts. With Prince Erold moving quickly to catch up to them, as soon as they were inside. No one spoke at all, as they headed across the entire building, to the back, where Robarts had his workspace.

They went straight in, his eyes scouring the room, then checking it, using magic. Noticing his trance, Prince Erold did the same thing, and after a moment, as soon as the four of them were shut inside, spoke. His voice a bit far away in an indefinable, but familiar, fashion.

“No one is listening to us. I can’t find any magical efforts from outside this room monitoring us, either.”

Anders only had a bit to add, when it was his turn to speak.

“No poisons, as well. Or magic. Should we be searching for anything else, Your Majesty?”

The King sat, his weight, which seemed to be less than it had been a few months prior, if not much so, settled into one of the guest chairs, as Robarts moved behind his great wooden desk. After a moment he shook his head.

“Not that I know of? Good thinking, though, checking like that. Both of you. There has been a slightly annoying happening, in your absence, Anders. A bit of slander, impugning your good will has run through the court here. A claim that you’ve taken to plotting against me and Robarts, seeking the throne for yourself.”

Anders didn’t deny it, or say it was true. That wouldn’t be the point at all. Instead, he twisted his mouth for a moment. Then he tried not to smile.

“Two things are important here. First, have Master Tolan check my mind for such things. They aren’t there, so that should be good evidence that way? Second... How do we capitalize on people making such claims about me?”

Prince Robarts got it first, or at least chuckled over the idea.

“Set a trap, perhaps, to see who would seek to overthrow their king? A warning, it’s probably everyone in the court, except a small handful. Apparently, you’re in that grouping, if you’re willing to have a wizard seek the truth inside your innermost self. We should call for him, to have that done, do you think?”

Anders smiled, actually meaning it.

“That would be wonderful, of course. I haven’t seen him in months. Plus, I’d rather not have my goodwill distrusted for longer than is needed. Prince Erold mentioned some weeks back that people might be imagining that kind of thing. I honestly don’t understand why, but...” He shrugged, then felt bad about it, since that kind of thing was a bit sloppy of him.

Prince Robarts rose, strode to the door commandingly and spoke to the guards there. Nothing else seemed to happen. There was no calling out, or sounds of one of the men leaving their post to seek Master Tolan. When the heavy doors closed again, the Prince winked at him.

“It is a rather obvious thought. A child, not yet a man in body, who has sudden access to resources and perhaps a grudge over how he was held away from a better life for years might well seek to recoup what was withheld. Who could blame him for it? Worse, we sit here, speaking of this topic and I have to tell you that, due to your young age, we must withhold most of the honors that you have clearly earned for yourself.”

That idea didn’t bother him. Honestly, he hadn’t figured there being honors of any sort for being good at killing. The last time he’d come home from the war, his mother had set up a nice tea for him, with a few other people. They’d had some well-made small sweets, to go with it.

“You mean I can’t have a cake in my name? Too bad. I do enjoy a nice bit of pastry, from time to time.”

Prince Erold looked amused by the words, at least.

He didn’t speak though, being attentive to his brother, who seemed ready to start again.

“You won a war, Anders. A normal man would be given a title, lands, perhaps a wife of good linage and coin enough to never raise his hand in work again. We made you a knight, for an act that, even when it was announced, had nobles of the court asking if that was enough or even close. General Nesmith suggested making you a general in our Army. Alpert suggested that we hand over the Kingship of Yanse to you.”

He glanced at Erold then his face serious.

“Your name came up for that as well, Brother. Instead, we named a child. A mere babe, to that position. One who has no more right through blood than you do, Anders. That...”

No one spoke for a moment, so Anders did.

“That simply makes sense. At least as long as Leopold is raised well and is of good heart and sound mind. We have no reason to think he won’t be, given who his parents are. Yanse... I could lead there. As a tyrant. Using fear to guide them. They cannot love me, though. Prince Alpert, if he is careful, can live for twenty-years as Regent there, which to them is their King, for the most part, and then place his son on the throne when it’s time, without even a fraction of the troubles I’d have.”

He did look at Erold then.

“True, you could do the same as your brother, but he has enough age to pull that kind of thing off, without it being thought an insult to a conquered foe. Which... Well, Yarler could have done it as well, I suppose. If he hadn’t been a fool.”

Just because the man had been a hothead with him, and foolish in his defeat, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have normally been more capable than that.

King Mathias sighed.

“All of that is likely true, Anders. The thoughts of a wise man, who doesn’t seek the best for himself, before those around him are taken care of. Which seems like a lie, to those of my court. Who would refuse a wealth of land and subjects? It’s unthinkable to most here. Even myself, to be most honest. Yet, here you sit, waving such honors away, seeking nothing from me. Not even a cake. Which, by the way, we will be having some of, later. A nice fruit one, with dainties on it, for decoration. That isn’t enough, and... I fear, that people will try to use you, if we leave you here. So... I must send you away.”

Everyone in the room went very still then, and Prince Erold readied magic, twisting his hand, to form a shield. The intent rang through the room. Probably due to the light trance he was in at the moment. Anders simply sat, then, slowly, smiled.

“Do you have a destination in mind or is it just away, in a general sense?”

The man, still tense, looked at the others.

“The latter. Not into exile or anything, either. We’ll need a real reason for you not to be available to the court here. I haven’t even the slightest thought as to where you might go. It won’t be forever, but...” He shook his head. “There’s a lie in that, isn’t there? You can come and visit, but this cannot be your home. Those of the court will have to seek you out to use you against myself. A thing that I don’t fear, greatly, but with enough inducement, or perhaps the right threats, you might be turned against me. If doing this, now doesn’t force that into being, naturally.”

Prince Erold looked ready to lash out, but didn’t bring any magics around for it. Robarts seemed ready to cry, and the King looked purely miserable over the idea.

Anders thought for a full minute.

“How about a magic school? We can build it a few miles away, on land that you own, and what coin is needed for it, you can provide. That way, instead of taking students who can afford to pay for it, we can take any with the mind, will and ability, who are willing to learn? It could be adjunct to the Army, perhaps? Then we can tell people that I requested that as my reward, over that dukeship that you offered me, just now, after I refused to take the yoke of Yanse from poor Prince Alpert? That being the case, how could you refuse?”

Prince Robarts stroked his beard, hiding a smile. It was nicely full and manly, but not over long. A nice blond color, of course, with highlights of red, in the right light.

“That would seem rather ungrateful, Father. I mean, if he’s turning down a duke’s lands and holdings for the right to lead such an academy, we should take it seriously. Attached to the Army, you think, Anders?”

He nodded.

“First and foremost. All who learn magic there will learn what is needed for war, and will be enlisted for life, with certain caveats? Women should be given special duties when pregnant or if they have small children, for instance and anyone past sixty, with a good record of service, should be allowed to retire. Once past training, they should only be expected to serve a portion of the year, in time of war, and in time of peace do good works, for the same period of time. Acting as free healers, or helping to build roads or other public works. Is that too harsh, do you think?”

The King touched his face, thinking for a brief while.

“The rest of the time they’re free to live as they will, make coin and so forth, outside of the control of the military?”

He thought for a moment himself, then nodded.

“Unless they enlist full time? Then they get regular pay, say as an officer? They’ll have to learn the job and climb the ropes, of course, like anyone else, after that.”

The King, rather suddenly, stood up. He smiled though.

“That’s a wonderful idea. Now, I need to see to some things. I’ll see all of you at the high meal? Robarts, if you’ll see to that business with Master Tolan for us?”

With that, Anders, along with Prince Erold, were allowed to leave the office.

Chapter twenty-three

Given the talk that he’d had with the King, Anders expected to find people in his room, packing his things for him, even as he went back there to reopen his space before the meal. Instead, the door was closed and while the inside of the room was clean, no one had run off with his chests of sea found coins or anything. The top one was askew, and when he moved it, clearly much lighter than it had been, but the rest of them were still well filled.

True, there could be rocks in them, or pot metal, meant to trick him, but if so, whoever did the work on them managed to seal the wood at the lid in the same fashion he’d done it. The top case didn’t have that, exactly. It was resealed, but the work on it was a bit warped in places, the wood squeezed together and then joined. His work was a bit nicer looking than that.

He changed his clothing, cleansed his body, and rubbed at his face. That, interestingly, had just a bit of hair on it. Not a lot, but at some point, while he’d been away, things had started to grow there. Anders shrugged, lacking a razor to take it off with. Farad was fine with having a beard. He’d never shaved in his entire life, so wasn’t up on how that would have been done, anyway. His facial hair had been cut, many times, but going bare faced wasn’t a thing that adult men had done at the hermitage. Some who had come to hear the stories had done that though, so it had been a known thing, even back then.

Instead of cleaning the no doubt wispy strands from his chin and the fuzz from his upper lip, he simply focused on his clothing for a few moments. As much as he hated to do it, he made those into robes, to mark him as a user of magic. That wasn’t the trend there in Istlan, but it could leave him seeming different enough that an announcement of his being sent away from the court might at least seem correct. If he wasn’t simply escorted out of the building, of course.

Then, having time before the meal, Anders looked around, sighed and started to pack his things. There wasn’t a lot of it that needed to go with him. He had a few outfits, some material left, for making various things, such as sheets of linen for gambeson and some scrap metal for mail. Some pens and paper as well, which had been either made or purchased by him. A few texts, being mainly things that he’d written, as well.

That and the pack he’d taken to the war with him. When it was time, instead of lamenting that his home was being removed from him, Farad simply pointed out that it was the place of the boy to leave his home at some point. Most would be going into an apprenticeship, but that would still require leaving, to live at the home or shop of their new master.

Anders simply took a breath and then nodded. The boy gave a slightly dark laugh.

“This is a known thing. Still, it feels a bit dire, doesn’t it?”

It truly did. Which meant, after leaving his room, he kept his mind sharp and eyes moving, ready for attacks to come. Instead, he simply moved off to the high hall, to find nearly a hundred people standing out in front of the room, dressed in finery, chattering calmly with one another. There were polite smiles, and tittering at various things, meant to be derisive without starting a fight or battle.

None of which was sent his way, as of yet.

A few people looked at him, and one or two gave small waves, which he did back. After all, being sent away didn’t mean he had to do so with a lack of grace. He felt a bit dark, but pasted a smile on his face, which meant he was pleasantly appointed that way when his mother, in a lovely white gown, a voluminous thing with lace and pink ribbons, moved to him and touched his arm.

“Anders! In fine robes, as well. A different style, aren’t they?”

They were, but she’d seen the like before. On him, even. She didn’t seem to be announcing something to the others there, either. It was simply her making conversation.

“An overcoat with loose trousers, to make it easier to move. Depak Sona showed me how to make them, down in Barquea. I love your gown, is it new?”

She smiled sweetly then.

“It is. Princess Lissa designed and made it for me, using magic. Much of this season’s new clothing designs here at court comes from that direction. Princess Javina has focused on men’s fashions, which is evident on many here this night.” She tilted her head, but didn’t turn to stare at anyone. That would be rude, after all. He glanced, carefully, and noticed that she was, indeed, correct.

Many of the men were in styles vaguely like those of Barquea. Different as well. The colors were a bit cheerier than those used in the south, but the cuts were definitely similar. Anders was in shining blue with pictures of birds in black and red all over the overcoat he wore, so actually fit in better than he would have figured, at first.

There was a call for the meal to begin, from the door, an invisible servant doing the work on that, and as they moved toward the door, a man in a fine black outfit, Howard, one of the head servants there, bowed to him.

“Sir Brolly?”

He stopped, with Lyse looking on, standing next to him. She didn’t stiffen or act affronted, so he figured it wasn’t that uncommon to be stopped at the door.

“Howard. How may I aid you this day?”

The man smiled, seeming to mean it. As if he wasn’t normally called by name there. Anders wasn’t close to the old man, but he’d known of him his entire life. Claiming otherwise seemed low to him.

The fellow gave a single half nod.

“You’ve been requested to sit at the hand of the King? You as well, Lady Lyse. If you’ll both follow?”

The man turned, walking away then, at a steady, unrushed pace. Clearly, they were following, even if they’d been asked if they wished to do so. That was likely how such things were done there. Anders wouldn’t truly know, having only eaten at the high hall once before. He’d been far down the table at the time as well, on that occasion. This time he was taken to the top of the table, and discovered that sitting at the hand of the King meant he was placed several people down, on the left.

Truly, he was settled next to Princess Aisla, who had Princess Peri between her and Prince Robarts. His mother was seated directly next to him, however, which was interesting to see. Aisla gave him a concerned look, but then took in his robes and offered a smile.

“You came as a Magician? Interesting.” That was all she was able to mutter, since King Mathias entered the room, the last to get there, with everyone standing.

“Please, everyone, be seated.” That caused a clatter in the space, as people tried to be graceful as they found their seats, the men aiding the women in doing so. He nearly missed that portion of things, but managed to copy what Prince Robarts did for Princess Peri, holding her seat away and then gently sliding it in for her, so that her large dress wouldn’t get in the way.

It meant doing that for Aisla, first, then spinning efficiently and aiding his mother, who smiled at him in a kindly fashion.

“Thank you, Anders.”

Only then did he seat himself, finding the move matched in time by Prince Erold, who was directly across from him. Next to his wife, with Princess Salina on the other side of him. Just down from there was Depak Sona and Hoatha. Both of them were, he noticed, in robes as well. Depak had the nicest design, of course. The man was brilliant in that way.

The King remained standing, and smiled, looking at several of the people there at the table.

“We are holding a special feast this night, for the heroes who so handily defeated our enemies in Yanse. My son, Prince Erold, who stood in the front lines of battle, using magic to drive the evil forces of Yanse back into their own lands. Princess Salina, of Barquea, who, in her own person did the same, facing death boldly and with a might that will surely ring in legend!” He continued onward, down the table.

Fixing Depak with a smile and a kindly expression.

“Master Depak Eta and his father, Master Hoatha Eta, created grand magics to aid our forces, which again, I have to imagine we will be telling our children and their children about!”

The man stopped then, and turned his gaze toward Anders.

“We of course, all of us here, know that well over half of those who fell to our forces did so at the arrow point and magics of Anders Brolly. My grandson.” On the last words, the room went deathly silent. A single chair scratched on the floor, at the far end of the table. A few soft gasps could be heard as well. Lyse stiffened and touched his right arm.

Anders didn’t look away from the man. Naming him as a relative hadn’t been in the plans mentioned. If anything, it made the whole situation more dangerous for the King, if he feared plotting against him. It would, in a way, make Anders Brolly seem a more legitimate person to place on the throne, some day.

The King went on, smiling.

“Magic, our birthright held back, due to old fears, is now the future of Istlan. To that end, after refusing the rule of the land of Yanse, out of wisdom and care for their people, and the offer of the title of duke, here in Istlan, as he feels himself too youthful to fairly rule as of yet, we came to the conclusion that Istlan needs a great college. One of magic and learning, as well as military might! This shall be provided for by the crown, so that, if we are ever threatened in the times to come, we will not ever again be found struggling in regards of magic or those willing to use their skill on our behalf. To that end, Anders Brolly is now named the Headmaster of this facility, to be built within a mile of the castle walls.”

No one moved for a moment, then, toward the middle of the table, a single voice rang out.

“Hail the Headmaster!” It was Count Verit, for some reason. His voice carried nicely.

So did everyone else, as they called the word out. Not in perfect unison, but the request seemed well enough met.

“Hail!”

Anders, or at least Farad, felt mildly embarrassed, but the boy inside simply ducked his head, in the King’s direction, humbly. No one called for a speech, so he held to his seat.

Then the King went on.

“There was also, as a reward, a mention of cake? You have to eat your greens first, of course...” The words were wry, and no one laughed at them, until Anders did, clapping a bit at the same time. Then the room burst, merrily.

After that, the King settled into his large chair, a thing grand, though made of metal covered wood. As soon as he was slid into place, since the thronelike chair was too heavy to be easily managed by one man, so had two servants to help with that effort, the room flooded with men, all dressed in black uniforms, pushing carts and carrying trays, which were brought to each person, so they could ask for what they wished.

There were large trenchers, but also fine metal plates placed under them. Anders understood that one didn’t eat the trencher, of course. They were made without salt, to make that unpalatable. On purpose. There was no bread other than that, but it was a status symbol that they didn’t have to have filling things like mere bread to sate their hunger. Instead, they had rich sauces, made of cream, butter and wine, over tender cuts of meat. There were at least six kinds of that being served that evening. Pork, and beef, venison and lamb. Several types of fowl, as well. Each laid delicately on the bread, with sauces ladled over them, as desired.

There were, indeed greens, which could, normally, be refused. The man serving him, grinning a bit, and added a very large scoop of the cooked leaves and herb and then placed another on top of it. That jest got the man smirked at by Princess Aisla. It was funny, if a bit annoying, since it was a lot of food to eat.

Not that he wasn’t going to be able to manage it. The truth was that he’d been undereating again. It was hard, in the field, to find enough food, and the road was only a little better. So, using good manners, he ate the cooked greens first, then polished off the perfectly prepared meats, doing so slowly, since that was required of one using proper manners. It meant he was finished when everyone else was, but several of the people around him had been served far less food.

Then there were several more courses, none of them being very large. A selection of cheeses in one, a single small serving of reduced fruit juice in another, with, after six such courses, a grand cake being brought out. As promised, it was the fruit kind, with delicate sweet dainties decorating it. There were hundreds of little animal figures on the tray around it, which he was looking at rather closely in fact, as the whole cake, pale white dainties and all, started to slide off the giant platter. There were two men holding it, and while vast, it probably wasn’t more weight than the sturdy men could manage. Not normally.

It seemed to him, as he pointed at it, that part of the cake itself had collapsed.

As he watched it travel forward, off the platform it was on, it occurred to him that he didn’t have a phrase for cake, tray, or even food, as a basic portion of what was needed. So, he touched the cake with his mind, using wizard skills, and focused hard. Indicating what he wanted to affect with pure will.

“Fla fen ot...” The cake, tray and all, halfway to the ground, slowly started to raise back upward. It took a few seconds, but the men collected themselves and moved the tray under the grand cake, and using hastily provided paddles, managed to push the whole, rather weighty, pastry upright. Finally, the men readied themselves and one of them spoke, softly.

“We should have it now, Anders.”

“Fen.”

They didn’t lose it, even as the weight of it hit again. It was placed on the table, in front of the King, who smiled and clapped his hands several times. Joyfully.

“Ah! Floating cake! Amazing. Now, this looks wonderful. We should all have some.”

That was served efficiently, and Anders had to agree that it was well done. It was served with a rich sauce made of brandy, butter and sugar, poured over each slice, with a singular dainty on the side of the dish. It was, he had to think, the nicest treat that he’d ever eaten. He’d had similar things, at high holidays, of course, but clear care had been put into every portion of the dish in front of him.

Savoring it, he barely noticed when the rest of the table was finished. He didn’t hurry, much, but ate all of it, before the dish was taken away. In the end he was full enough that he doubted he could have managed to eat anything more that day. He wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was a close thing, he had to imagine.

After the table was cleared of dishware, people stood and talked, moving into the outer hall again, standing and mingling, instead of seeing to any sort of valuable work. He figured on standing for a while himself, with no one speaking to him, but several came and collected around him.

Countess Rainly, a friend of his, after an odd fashion, moved in and gave him a small hug.

“Sir Brolly! What amazing news. We’re to have our own college of magic, here in Istlan? Will you have weather work, in the curriculum?”

He tilted his head, then nodded.

“If possible. Our main initial focus will be on those areas of use in warfare. So, that fits. Not that I have any idea how that’s done. Would you be able to recommend someone who might wish to be an instructor, of such topics?”

She was a countess, so asking her to do it would, naturally, be beneath her station. She simply did a slow curtsey.

“I have some friends who might be well suited for such a position, in fact. I should... Get introductions for them? How are you taking applications?”

He didn’t have a plan for that, but after a moment, came up with something. It was a start, at least.

“By introduction, and direct contact. People can also simply come and find me, and will be tested, for their skills and to make certain they’re suited to teaching. That won’t be taking place until the fall season, since I have some small works to attend to before then, in the north.” That felt slow, and as if he were making excuses, but the Countess smiled hugely.

“That soon? Amazing! You have to have the buildings constructed first though, or is there a facility you can use already on the land?”

“I don’t know? I was planning to simply do the work on that myself. Using magic? It should only take a few days. Perhaps a week, if I make it very nice? That won’t be the major issue. I simply promised a gift to Duke Lister and his wife Princess Jasmin. Rather, I promised to attend with some others as they gave their own gifts. They’re raising a palace for him.”

The woman looked concerned for a moment, then rather slowly, leaned in.

“That sounds advanced. You’re doing this for them? At another’s behest?”

“Oh, no. I think that the Barquean Princesses are planning to do that, in the main. Prince Erold and Princess Mathia plan to aid in it as well? That might have changed, so I need to check on that again.”

The woman closed her eyes then.

“Remarkable. I wasn’t aware that such things could be done, much less by our own people. How good is the work, do you think?”

Several people moved in around him, seeming interested in the answer. They got one, from Depak Sona, who smiled as he did it.

“Ah? The work is very high end, at least when done well. The same as any crafting, in that way. We should, perhaps, offer a small example of such, tomorrow, Anders? If you have the time, of course?”

Anders didn’t have anything else planned, so thought for a few seconds.

“The new site for the school is supposed to be within a mile of the castle, but I don’t know where it will be placed, exactly. I... There might be need for a new shed or outbuilding here? Let me check on that. If nothing else we could raise something and then take it down, for the practice of the thing. That sounds like a good enough plan. We could arrange for a picnic, perhaps? For those watching, if they wish to stay for it.”

Countess Rainly touched his arm.

“That would be a wonder! Thank you, Sir Brolly. Now, after being demanding and pushing at you for my own amusement, what other plans do you have coming? You’re back from the war, so a rest of some sort, for a while? You mentioned a relaxing journey to oversee construction?”

It was a strange thing to repeat and in a different fashion than he’d presented things, which had him looking around, to see that a good portion of the room had pressed in around him, as if he, personally, might be interesting.

On seeing that, he smiled at the Countess. It was clear the woman was trying to aid him, not harm him, in some strange courtly fashion.

“Indeed, Countess. A bit of a pleasure voyage, for myself, as several others head to Duchy Lister to raise a fine castle for the new duke. Not a journey that will last too long, of course, since I have a new duty to attend to. That’s most exciting, isn’t it? If anyone knows of a person of magical talents, please ask them to apply to the new school, when the doors open. That won’t be long, if all goes well.”

He figured his portion was finished for the moment, and readied himself to attend to whoever was speaking. Instead, he was tugged, by the arm, backwards several steps. He made a fist with his right hand, and was getting ready to make someone explode, when he looked over to see that it was Prince Robarts.

“Sorry there, Anders. I was trying to get your attention, not pull you over half the room. Would you be free to see to some small efforts? Baroness Dilling’s young daughter has fallen ill. A fever and aching middle? It’s likely nothing, but mothers will dote on their only children.”

Finding his balance again, releasing his fist instantly, Anders looked around. There was no child in the room, as far as he could see.

“Could you have me directed to her? The child, that is.”

The man simply turned and walked away. Assuming that it was either him being taken in the correct direction, or the man seeking someone to do that task for him, he followed along, waving to the others there.

“Sorry, a small matter arose. Forgive me my early retreat.”

Several people there muttered, which mainly seemed to be suggestions that they’d meet again, perhaps soon. He had to quicken his pace to keep up with the Prince however, who, even if his words had been calm on the matter, seemed a good bit more concerned in his actions.

Once in the hallway, the man nearly ran, he walked so quickly.

“The child is burning up. It doesn’t seem to be the red fever, but poison is feared. I didn’t want to announce it to the room, but Baron Billings is suffering the same affliction, and a servant who attended them is in the same state.”

A few frantic minutes later, Anders was lead through a sturdy door, in the visiting nobles’ wing. It was a place that he’d been to before, the hall at least, but only a few times. Prince Robarts didn’t knock or call out first. Inside the room, groaning in pure agony, were the little girl and her father.

Anders moved to the child first. She was smaller after all, and that could mean the poison would act on her faster. He dropped into a trance, closed his eyes and touched her head. That was warm, so he dealt with that first.

“Li homa indict swerla ina einest ere ot ere, fen ot...”

The little girl snapped her eyes open, and took a large shuddering breath.

“It doesn’t hurt?”

Anders nodded, and moved, quickly, to the man, in the next bed. He wasn’t an old fellow or anything, being about twice Anders own age.

Then he started the real work. He found the poison, inside of each of them, and then, very carefully, called it out through their skin, leaving everything else inside of them. It had to be caught in a drinking glass, and took some moments, but showed two thimbles full of inky black, nearly purple, substance.

“We need Master Seness, to see if he can identify this substance. I need to be led to the servant who’s also ill.”

That took yelling, which Prince Robarts did himself.

It got results, Anders had to admit. He was found by Alice Cook, who scurried down the hallway, her skirt raised gently, to prevent tripping.

“There’s need?” She was a bit out of breath, and looked slightly frantic, but Anders didn’t make the Prince speak.

“There’s an ill servant? Poisoned, it seems. I need to see him as quickly as possible.”

The girl turned then.

“It’s Len, the new footman. This way, Anders.”

Unlike the Prince, she actually ran. It was close enough that Len probably lived due to that fact. Still, he produced as much of the inky black substance pulled from him as the other two had combined. Unlike the others, even after all the spells were used, Len didn’t instantly rouse. He did, after some minutes, open his eyes, however. There was no speech, but he managed to move his lips.

Anders didn’t lean in to hear, simply focusing, clearing his mind, then, when nothing else was intruding, he touched the man’s thoughts.

What he was trying to say was very clear. Fading though, even as Anders watched it happen. As if the spark of sensibility had left him, in that very moment. Not his life, but the actions of his inner self were wearing so quickly that Anders doubted he could have saved the man, even if he knew how. After a moment, still breathing, the man rested on his bed, unmoving, with no real thought left, at all.

“The wine. It was a soft red, served with the meal. Len had the last third of the bottle, with his own late meal, so as to not waste it.”

Anders, who had been standing by the bed, turned to look at Alice and found that Prince Robarts was there as well. He’d missed that part of things, the other man following them.

He spoke to both of the others, as if he hadn’t been taken unaware in his trance state.

“We need to find the bottle that the new wine was in. Then, if we can, should work out who had control over that particular bottle, if we can. We need Master Tolan for this. Fenris Demo Gull and Princess Mathia as well.”

The various names probably didn’t make sense to anyone else, but Prince Robarts simply yelled again, trusting in him, for some strange reason.

“Master Tolan, Fenris Gull, Princess Mathia, attend to the kitchens!”

That was called out, voices raising over the entire castle, seeking to lure those specific people.

He turned, and looked at the red-haired woman behind him.

“Alice, have you been learning magic?”

She looked scared suddenly. Probably because he sounded almost mean and abrupt.

“Yes, but I didn’t...”

He held up his hand to get her to be silent. Which worked, surprisingly.

“You kept with it, with Princess Lissa?”

“Right. Even when the coin stopped. It’s clearly too good of a gift to reject. Why?”

“Because, I want you to take two guards and go protect Baron Billings and his family. They probably won’t be attacked, but be on the lookout for anything that might be amiss. Watch the mother, but don’t let on that you’re observing her.” His only reason there was that the woman hadn’t been poisoned.

Due, most likely, to having had real wine with her meal, not the new wine, which was practically juice. Still, if the woman wanted her family dead, that would be as good a way to remove them as anything else. Slip a bit of something dire into a drink she didn’t normally have, and people would run all over the castle, seeking the culprit, while she mourned for her lost family.

Anders didn’t wait, simply checking on that, without permission or concern for such. When he opened his eyes, he looked at the Heir.

“The Baroness had nothing to do with this. That should be checked again, by Master Tolan but I’m confident in that finding.”

The man nodded, and moved into the hallway, dragging Anders by the arm, if gently. He waved to the hall guards, of which there were two.

“We need two guards on Baron Billings and his family. Alice will act as your magical support for that. No one gets in to see them. No one, unless myself, the King or Master Brolly here are personally in attendance.”

The men both stood straight, their tidy gray outfits seeming official, even if he’d seen them his entire life.

“Understood. We’ll get that going and pass the information.”

Both men looked at Alice, as if it were a bit odd for a serving girl, or more correctly a kitchen helper and cook, to be seeing to that sort of duty. Anders didn’t bother explaining, simply moving off to the kitchen.

Once there, Anders raised his left hand, focusing on the bottle that might have a hint of poison still on it. Only to find himself pointing to the scullery, where, next to the deep washing sink, with two young men working hard at cleaning things, he located the brown glass object he needed. Just about to be scrubbed.

“Hold! Don’t get that wet, Tolly! It has poison in it.”

The boy froze in place, looking worried.

“Anders? I didn’t do nothing!”

He grinned at the younger boy, who was a few years younger than himself.

“I know. We just need to use that bottle, without it being washed, to find out who did. Thank you, Tolly. Let me take that...” He simply grabbed the thing, the bad part of it still in the liquid, a last swallow at the very bottom, with bits of granules mixed throughout. New wine did that, so he doubted it was a sign of anything useful.

Still, he had that in hand, with Prince Robarts next to him, when the others they’d called for arrived. Princess Mathia got there last, hampered no doubt by her skirt.

“Get into robes, like mine. The ones with trousers. They’re easier to run in. Baron Billings and his daughter, as well as Footman Len were poisoned. We need to find out who did it, as soon as possible.”

Master Tolan took the bottle, his eyes closed, without any more being explained.

Then the older man nodded, his eyes haunted.

“Clever... We’re in for a bit of a hunt, it would seem.”

Then, maddeningly, he didn’t add anything else.

Chapter twenty-four

Master Tolan touched Anders on the arm, smiled a bit grimly and shook his head.

“No, Anders, let these others handle this.” The man was in a trance, but still walking down the hallway of the castle, his pace sedate, but marching in a specific direction.

The boy inside felt a shock at the words. To him is seemed an indication that the Master thought that he wasn’t up to the task of the moment. Probably due to his age. The others were older, since Princess Mathia was fifteen, or possibly sixteen now and Fenris Gull was well over thirty, but he’d proven himself, both on the battlefield and in other investigations, in the past.

Farad had at least, which meant to the boy that he was at least as good of a person to put in charge of this investigation as anyone else.

The old man in his head actually chuckled at the slightly disgruntled thought, almost instantly. To him it made perfect sense. Master Tolan was throwing the others into a real fire, to test their training and will to see the task through. It wasn’t a comment on him at all. Far from it, in fact. If the other man hadn’t trusted in his skills, he would have pushed for Anders to be the one doing the work, so he could prove himself.

Blinking at that realization, Anders took a breath.

“We have Master Seness looking at the compound. There’s more of it in this bottle. I already checked and Baroness Billings is clear of this crime. My work should be double checked. You two are in charge of this investigation, unless the King tells us otherwise.” He moved up, walking faster, and held the bottle with the remnants of the new wine and whatever the poison was out for Gull to take. The man did it, seeming slightly baffled for a moment, as if unsure that he, a simple guard was the right man for the job. Or to be working with a Princess.

Mathia, for her part, simply took a shuddering breath, then gave a firm nod.

“We should take the bottle to Master Seness, then, in case that has value. Then... We could start checking everyone for intent? That will take a long time. Can we use the bottle to find who touched it?”

She looked back, at Master Tolan, who was after all, a very famous wizard.

The man gave a somber nod.

“It will be a delicate task. You will need to go into a very deep trance, and have guidance to go over the faint traces there.” He didn’t suggest who should do which portion of things, stopping at that point. Leaving the task to the others.

Anders didn’t add anything either. The point of being in command was to be the one making the choices.

They kept walking, heading toward Prince Robarts’ office space, as Gull spoke, his voice calm.

“I’ll do that part. I think I can do that kind of deep trance. If not, then we grab up Master Tolan and have him do it for us? Brolly can do that too, I think. His mind is deep and vast that way. Half of what I know about trances are because I was reading his mind when he did it, carrying me along with him. I thought I was going to stop breathing, the first few times that happened.”

The Princess frowned then, and glared at the man. It was a pretty look for her, instead of an ugly thing, like most people had.

“You’ve read his mind that often? Why?”

There was a shrug, the man sounding a bit further away, fighting for focus already, even as they moved.

“Orders. I was set to do that as a lesson. Now... make certain that the questions hit the right note, please, Princess?” It was part order, part plea, as if he didn’t know if the young woman was up to the task of the moment.

Which was a real enough concern, truly.

There were guards on the door of Robarts’ office, the men seeming slightly confused at who was there. Princess Mathia gave a single, rather polite, nod.

“Would you announce us, please?” Her voice was soft, and almost gentle. Clearly attempting not to shock Gull out of what he was attempting.

One of the men tapped at the door, which wasn’t a loud or shocking thing, getting a voice from inside to call out. It was deep and male sounding, but not Prince Robarts or the King at all.

“Enter!”

The guard tucked his head in.

“Princess Mathia, Master Tolan, Sir Brolly and Fenris Gull are here and asked to be announced?”

“Send them in, please.”

That was done by the two men, both holding spears that were slightly taller than they were, out of the way. Just enough for each person to pass. There was a nod, for Anders, since he recognized both men, they tried to do that with Gull, but were ignored, since he wasn’t truly aware of what was going on fully, any longer. He moved into the room though, with Master Tolan putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him.

Inside the space showed that Prince Robarts was indeed there, behind his desk, working over some papers. Also in the room was General Nesmith and a pale fellow with a long gray beard, dressed in courtly raiment, with a keen look to his eyes. Count Legis. Anders didn’t know the man, but had seen him around, from time to time.

The General waved for them to speak, his hand moving quickly, as if annoyed. There was no bow, and the men didn’t rise, which indicated something rather serious. After all, a Princess of the realm had walked into the room.

Giving them a polite look, which seemed forced, the General looked at all of them, finally focusing on Anders, for some reason.

“How may we serve today, Brolly?”

That he was the one picked to answer made a certain amount of sense. After all, if he insulted Anders by being rude or abrupt, he could probably get away with it. Doing that with a Princess would be harder to manage. Gull was another good choice, but he was standing strangely and Master Tolan was clearly doing the same at the moment.

“Gull is going to find who touched the bottle that had the poisoned new wine in it. Princess Mathia will be guiding him. We should have them sit. Is there paper? I can take notes.”

The men, all three of them, moved then. Count Legis moved to grab both clean papers, ink and a lap board, indicating that Anders sit, setting the items up for him with quick, efficient movements. The General got Gull into a chair as well, with Master Tolan being settled across the room.

Mathia stayed standing, watching Gull closely. Testing his mind with her own, it was clear. After some moments, she spoke, her voice gentle.

“Go to the hallway of finding. Focus only on the bottle in your hand.”

Gull gave off a sense of movement, without doing more than breathing in a very slow fashion.

“Now, run backward in time, connect backwards, to who held the bottle last, before you touched it. Who was that?”

“Farad Ibn Istel and Anders Brolly.”

The girl made a face.

“Focus on that first one. Where is he now?” It made sense to ask about, but was a mistake. At least if you knew that he, Anders, was also that man.

Gull spoke anyway.

“Inside Brolly. They are one, but also not.”

Anders nodded.

“Correct. It’s a known thing. Ask if I, either portion of myself, placed the poison in the bottle?”

The girl gave him a look that seemed concerned, but she asked the question anyway.

“Did Anders Brolly place the poison in the bottle?”

“No.”

“Did Farad... Ibn Istel do it?”

“No.”

She rallied then and gave Anders a hard look for a second.

“Move back again, who touched the bottle before that?”

There was a pause, and a slow exhalation.

“A wash boy, in the kitchens... Tollis Thrand?”

Anders nodded, but didn’t speak, though it was clear that Princess Mathia saw the movement.

“Did this person put the poison in the bottle?”

“No.”

They worked back then, with the room servant, Footman Len, having been the one to touch it before that. The Baron, his daughter and his wife never came into contact with the bottle at all. Len was cleared as well, naturally. Not that placing the poison and then drinking it himself wouldn’t have been a brilliant deception, otherwise. Not as much of it as Len had done, but enough to make him merely ill would tend to show he wasn’t guilty, even if he was.

It simply wasn’t the case.

Before that, things became truly murky. There was an obvious hole, between the wine steward having held the bottle, and someone else touching it. A blank that Gull noticed, but couldn’t see through. As hard as the man worked, that didn’t clear at all. Mathia became frustrated, but hid it.

“We seem to be blocked. How do we get around this?”

She looked at Master Tolan, but Anders was the one to tap his lips, thinking.

“Back away from the problem? Whoever touched the bottle and placed the poison is hidden. Did anyone see them? Hiding from a wizard doesn’t normally allow for true invisibility.” It could, after a fashion. At least he could do that, but Anders hadn’t bothered to teach that trick to anyone else yet. He should, soon, so the skill wouldn’t be lost to time, but it hadn’t come up at all.

It took a while, seeking for someone who was close to the blank spot, but finally, by reading the minds of others, one of the guards did notice something strange, corresponding to the hidden person, as they moved down the hallway. Hugging the wall.

The figure was a man, who seemed to be blind. The assassin from Yanse, Duke Cohen.

Anders hid his shock that the fellow was still alive. Much less having gained the freedom of the castle. Instead of asking about it, he nodded.

“Where did he get the poison from?”

That was impossible to track back, of course, if the man was hiding his mind from them still. Prince Robarts tapped his desk however.

“I knew that was a mistake. Father felt that a blind man, stripped of magical rider, might give us useful information, while the war raged. Then, after it was over, there was no reason to kill him for an attack on Anders.” He smiled a bit, his face dour at the same time. “Which wasn’t about a lack of worth on your part, of course. It was simply that Cohen clearly realized what would happen if you were allowed into battle. Any Knight of our own realm would have made a similar attempt, in the same place. Once the war was over, it was thought that honor would have prevented further efforts to that end. Which is true, I suppose, but why go after Baron Billings?”

No one had an answer for that, but Anders didn’t wait, simply finishing his notes, and then getting Count Legis to help him stand, placing the glass stopper in the ink bottle and then taking the lap board from him, very carefully.

“We should find the man, and see what he has to say for himself? If he’s in the castle any longer.” They hadn’t locked the doors to keep people in, for some reason. It was actually a fairly major oversight. One that Anders had been right there for, as well.

“Why didn’t we seal the castle? We have in the past when things like this took place. I... Didn’t even think of it until right now.” He shook his head a bit, but felt fine. Clear headed and not as if something was trying to confuse him.

Everyone else did something similar, with Count Legis scowling.

“That... Truly is strange, isn’t it? It could be magic, you think, Sir Brolly?”

It was strange being called that, but he nodded.

“Possibly. We need to be aware that such things are influencing us, at least in potential. Now, how do we find Duke Cohen?”

That it turned out was a bit of a chore. The man wasn’t locked in his room, being blind, and had taken to walking around, counting out loud, as he touched the wall of the castle’s hallways. No one had felt threatened by the movements, because of his infirmity.

Anders fell into a deep trance, ready to search for a blank spot, or a hidden thing in their midst, of which there were several in the building. Count Cohen was, however, simply sitting in the low hall, eating a late meal, after almost everyone else had left the space. He wasn’t hidden at all, now.

“The low hall. This way... Except that Master Gull and Princess Mathia are in charge of this. Sorry for overstepping.”

It was taking a moment for Gull to rouse himself, but he did it, literally shaking his head.

“I know the way. We should take guards with us.” He moved to the door, stepped into the hall, and looked around.

“We need six guards to the low hall, without being known. Directly, if possible. Taking in an assassin, if we can.”

That didn’t sound too positive as to their chances, but Anders allowed the man to do his job of the moment. One of the guards nodded, and waved to the other, who moved to stand directly in front of the door, as the other fellow in gray quietly ran off. In near silence, his feet barely making a sound on the hard stone floor.

They didn’t wait for the men to show up, heading to the low hall themselves. Led by Princess Mathia, who apparently knew where the low hall was as well, even if she’d never dined there in her life, that Anders could recall having taken place. Then, what he didn’t know about a person like her would, he didn’t doubt at all, fill large tomes.

Inside the nearly empty hall, sitting alone at the same table that Anders used by habit when dining there, sat Duke Cohen. His back turned to them, bent over a plate of food that he was clearly struggling to eat with something approaching manners. There was a bottle of wine next to him, and a full cup, a bit of the liquid spilled on the table. Anders strode forward and moved both the glass bottle and metal cup out of reach of the man sitting there.

“Just in case you put poison in your own cup, Duke Cohen. You understand, correct?”

The man didn’t turn to look at him, but there was a sense of eyes on him suddenly. Anders probed instantly and found that, deep inside the Duke, was a dark rider. Directly in the core of his being. Sitting there and staring at them all.

“Brolly? There you are! You know, that little trick, blinding me, worked rather well. I can’t see a thing now. Sorry about trying to kill you, but, well, you were rather obviously going to conquer my kingdom, which I had to try and prevent. King Yarler set me the task, directly.”

Intrigued, Anders spoke, even if it wasn’t his task, personally. Not at the moment.

“Set you to stop a counterstrike of note, or...”

That got a soft snort, as the man took a bit of stew, using a wooden spoon. Then he had to swallow. That was only polite, after all, so Anders waited, as the six guards they requested moved into place, shuffling quietly.

The Duke, looking fairly young and powerful still, not broken at all, smiled.

“So many, just for me? Flattering. Even using my new friend to see for me, I can’t claim to be the equal of so many. Which I suppose is the point. I doubt I could defeat you alone, of course, Master Anders. Even trained as I am, I failed, when I tried it.” He shook his head a bit, making an odd face. “To answer you, I was set to execute you, Anderson Brolly, by name, the whole time, if at all possible. It took me a while to learn that you were just called Anders. Still, I knew who the King meant. I would have, even without a name, once I met you. Not that the others here weren’t impressive as well. If that couldn’t happen, I was to take the King and Heir, to disrupt things here. I would have succeeded in those, of course. You were the far more interesting target. I should have simply started with the golem, while you slept. I was afraid that summoning such magical aid would have alerted you.”

Anders could see that one as being valid. He might never have woken in time, given that. Certainly not with a clear enough head to get out of the way in time.

“That makes sense, of course. So, why try to kill Baron Billings?”

The man frowned.

“I don’t know the name. Sorry. I was removing that foul servant, Len. He...” There was a tense expression then and a tightening of his jaw. For a moment it was as if he wasn’t going to speak at all, then a sigh came. “He used me, when I was left blind, beaten, bound with stout chains and without a friend to defend me. Against my will. The bottle was meant for him. I got the poison from your chemist, Tag. A good man. Please don’t blame him for my use of it? He only gave it to me so I might end my days. Not that I couldn’t have simply gotten a knife and done the same thing. I would have acted with more honor, in taking that monster, but for a time I truly couldn’t fight well. Not before I called for a friend and one came to aid me, at least. I might do it now, able to see after a fashion thanks to my companion, and not being tied up as I was... but I already had the poison. It was easier to sneak into the cellar and place the wine in the correct bottle, that was all. My newest companion is not yet powerful, but he is gifted in seeing the near future. He drew me to the correct bottle, without issue. I also killed some baron, or...”

Shaking his head, Anders spoke, gently. If the man wasn’t lying, then Len had raped him. A thing that wasn’t going to be allowed, if it were the case.

“They all live. Baron Billings, his young daughter and Len. The charge just claimed will be checked, and if he harmed you in such a fashion, he won’t survive. I promise you that. In truth, I think his mind may well not recover, which will end his days soon, regardless. In that, you have most likely succeeded, then.”

The man bowed a bit, his body stiff, compared to how he’d been a few moments before.

“That is a kindness, then. I’ve asked my new friend to leave me, so that he won’t be bound away from the world. That will happen in a few moments. It isn’t an attack. Please don’t harm him.”

The beast within the man stirred then and a lightly glowing green bit of force did indeed leave him then, hovering over the table briefly, and then heading upward to the ceiling, which it passed through. Anders tracked it as it moved away, but it did that, without stopping.

All of the guards stood ready, as if to fight.

Anders merely tilted his head. Sending his companion away didn’t make any sense, if he might live. He was going to need to see for that, and even if it was a poor substitute, any guidance was better than none.

“So, you already took the poison yourself?”

The voice that came back then was a bit rough. Harsh, with a breathy quality to it. The bearded man laughed, softly.

“In the stew. It tastes better that way, in case you ever need to do the same yourself. I won’t be kept a prisoner here. That isn’t my way. I’m also not fond of being blind, to tell the truth.”

Everyone else seemed concerned by that, but Anders understood the idea. He would have prevented his enemy from holding him, as well, if it happened. It would be impossible for a blind man, even one with a dark entity inside of him to aid his movements, to escape and navigate through a land that wasn’t his own.

“I see. Very well. You seem quite good with your form of magic. You had two such beings inside of you? I saw you sneaking into place, some time ago, hidden from wizard’s sight. Then you did it again, earlier.”

The man shook his head then.

“No. Only one can ride with a host at a single time. I trained my new friend to do that and to act as my eyes. It took some time, or I would have acted earlier. I learned at the hands of a true master, however. Grandfather Snow taught me many things. Things you may not know of, yet, Anders Brolly.”

He nodded, his face still and unmoving.

“Oh? What things? If you don’t mind sharing the lessons, in case they might aid me in personal growth?”

“Ha. Brilliant phrasing. There’s no secret to it. Grandfather Snow is in the north, and not involved in our petty squabbles. There is no need for you to seek to attack him. Not that you’d survive that, if you did. I learned many things from him, over the ten years I spent studying under him. How to entreat and release the devic, for instance. How to hold control of my being and mind from them. Skills that all devic can learn, if instructed well. How to fight... I was a poor student in that, compared to what Grandfather can do, I assure you. I dare say that even weakened and blind, bound with heavy iron, that monster wouldn’t have defile him in such a fashion. More importantly, he taught me not to love life so much that I fear death. After all, when one such as we pass, we become devic, and do not truly perish at all.”

That was interesting, and Anders wished to ask more of the man on the topic, but the fellow held up his right hand.

“Now, I fear I must writhe in pain for a while. I had the full dose, so it won’t take too long. Do you have any further questions? If so, ask them now, while I might answer, or refuse with an actual voice.”

“A few things. This Grandfather Snow lives in the North? In Dora?”

That got a head shake.

“Nah. In Ferlith, to the east of there, on the coast, in the mountains. Why, do you seek your own end? If so, go there and challenge him with an army. I can’t recommend it.”

“Nothing like that. He simply sounds like an interesting person. Now, do you have any word you wish sent to your family?”

He did, and muttered it quickly, seeming surprised to be asked. Then, when he was done, the man sighed.

“I suppose that you’ll add in the part about my dishonor?”

Anders shook his head.

“None will speak of it outside of these walls again. You will have justice there, after a full investigation.”

The man, softer now, groaned a bit, in pain.

“Good. Thank you, then, Brolly. I wish I could have killed you. Saved my land... You’ll make a fine devic... someday.” He tapered off, his voice fading to nothing at that point.

Then he slumped over his plate, landing in it, still breathing but that was growing fainter with each one taken. After a minute or two of everyone standing there, the man gave a single, final gasp, and then died.

No one had moved to save him, even though Anders probably could have, if he’d moved in as soon as he knew about what had happened. The man was simply too dangerous to leave alive.

Princess Mathia looked worried, and started to speak, but was interrupted as a green glowing form rose from the body. One much stronger than the previous being had been. It hovered in the air, examining them all for a bit, then there was a sense of a nod, and the being left, following the direction that his friend had gone. Through the ceiling and then toward the north.

That and, Anders thought, slightly east. Toward Ferlith. A kingdom so small that it was little more than a city and some farmland, if the maps were correct. Hidden away in the mountains.

Very near Dora, but separate.

There was something there, Farad had to feel, but it didn’t match up, correctly. For the moment, he let that go, and simply looked at the now dead man on his favorite eating table.

“We should take him away, and then burn the body. That’s the Yansian way, not an insult to him. It’s a shame that we had to be on different sides of this.” He bowed his head for a moment, as if in prayer, which was matched by several of the others.

Then Gull cleared his throat.

“I’ll see to getting him to the first crypt. We need to call up those who work with the dead. Burning, you say? We... How do we pay them for that?”

Anders shrugged.

“I’ll see to that. Now, I need to see the King, I think. To explain all of this. You two need to come as well. You, too, if you will, Master Tolan?”

The older man regarded the body, then Anders, his face rather relaxed. Almost peaceful. That was a trick, done using deep focus and long practice.

“Of course, Master Brolly. We need to report this at once. We should, perhaps, go through Prince Robarts for this?”

That was his personal plan, since, day to day, one didn’t go and simply demand an audience with the King. He didn’t, at any rate. Really, even going to the Heir was probably him pressing things in an untoward fashion, now that he considered it.

They walked back to the Princes’ office, after Demo arranged for the body to be taken to the lower crypts, which took about a quarter hour. They were allowed into the office more rapidly this time, with Princess Mathia stepping forward, curtsying to her own father, rather politely. Anders used second courtly, with Master Tolan matching him. Gull used a martial bow, but went very low with it.

Everyone else was still in the room, so heard what Mathia said.

“Duke Cohen is dead, by his own hand and will. He claimed that he was attempting to murder the Footman, not the Baron or his family. There was a delicate matter...”

Anders closed his eyes.

“From the sound of it, Footman Len raped him, in his weakened state, in the days after the battle we engaged in. I promised an investigation into that, and justice for it, if it was truly stated.” That was beyond his ability to call for, but the Prince closed his own eyes.

“See to that, please, Sir Brolly? The man was a Duke, if an enemy to our people. Was there more spoken of?”

Anders did it then, seeking for the information in Len’s thoughts. Those were slow and nearly gone, in a way that probably meant he would sleep and never awaken. He tightened his resolve, and looked back in time, finding the incident along the path that Len, the new Footman, had lived. It was there, with the man, sent to take a meal, clearly thinking that a blind man would never be able to locate who had abused him.

Sighing, he opened his eyes and looked at Robarts, but anyone else could answer his question.

“Len is guilty, as accused. His mind won’t recover, I do not think. We should remove him from this world, but that...”

Robarts nodded then, seeming angered.

“I will see to that. Thank you for your efforts, Sir Brolly.” He seemed sad, and ready to go and kill the man himself, which wasn’t a thing that he’d noticed on the fellow before at all. Not even in the heat of battle.

Mathia went on then.

“He spoke of his training, using the dark beings and turned into one himself, as he died. There was another of the things within him that he released. To save it from harm, I gather?” She looked at the others, who each gave a nod at the idea. It really had seemed like that.

“He also mentioned that he’d been sent here to kill Anders, if he could. If not, he was supposed to take you and Grandfather. It was clear that his goal had been to go after Anders first and foremost. He didn’t seem to think that killing the Heir or the King would be a real challenge to him. Not before being laid low in combat.”

The words weren’t happy sounding, and the girl’s father seemed to agree with her tone.

“Well. We need to dispose of him now. Are we sending him back to Yanse?”

Anders hadn’t even thought of that, though it could be done, of course.

“He had a message for his family, but I’d figured we’d burn the body, with a ceremony, as is their polite custom. I could preserve it and take it back, if that’s preferable?” He had things to do, but duty came first.

The Heir stopped for a moment and then shook his head.

“I don’t know which is going to be preferred. I’ll carry this news to father. Can we have all of that in writing, please? From each of you, if possible?”

That got bows, and they were dismissed, to find tools for such things. Anders had some things in his room, packed up, but he knew where to find the needed implements. The whole of the event, written of meticulously, still only took five pages. When it dried, he walked the report back to the Princes’ office. That was empty, of course, since the hour was late. As was the custom for pages, he laid the items on the floor, in front of the door, and walked away.

That got a nod from the hall guards, neither of which spoke to him. Then he left, getting back to his own room, just in time to sleep for a few hours before the early summer sun would shine through his window, waking him for the day.

Meaning he wanted to be a bit grumpy when he rose, feeling tired and a bit ill. Instead of allowing that to happen, he schooled his thoughts, and prepared himself for the day. Cleaned and ready, he stood, and went to the ambassador’s hallway, to find not one or two, but four servants already going from room to room, with a rolling cart that had supplies for cleaning directly at hand. He smiled at the sight, the familiar faces moving in and out of the correct doors.

Which nearly had him leaving for the day, since he clearly wasn’t needed to freshen rooms and clean chamber pots. Then, instead of doing that, he moved to the furthest door, that of the Barquean Ambassador, and when the man answered, smiled at him.

Speaking in Scara.

“Hello.”

“Hello! I’m just checking in, to make sure you have everything you need?”

The man, cheerier seeming than the last time Anders pounded on his door, smiled back.

“I do, thank you, Prince Anders. The service here has improved much, of late. A man comes to my room, twice a day, using magic to clean and entertain me, even. I heard that you’re holding a small event, later today? A meal, and a display of magical prowess? Would I be allowed to attend, do you think?”

He did think that sounded fine, so smiled.

“Make certain to put an order in for food, with the servants? It’s a picnic, so you’ll need to make sure they know that you plan to attend.” The man nodded at that, seeming well enough satisfied.

Chapter twenty-five

The arrow flew into the target, some twenty paces away, striking low, but inside the small wreath he’d woven out of some supple green branches from the woods, not far off. Trying again, pulling firmly on the bow, but without too much strain, not more than he could bear at any rate, he re-aimed and let fly again. For the second time he was low, while inside the round he needed to be in.

On the eighth arrow of the set he was finally on target. That lasted for the next two, until of course he took five paces back and started over. Then he was low again, the first arrow striking the bottom of the greenery. It was annoying, but he kept going, doing better after a bit of practice. Then he had to finish his work, starting from ten paces, aiming at a wand stuck into the ground. That was two inches thick, and old enough that a clean hit would stick in, as long as the force of the blow didn’t rip the thing from the ground.

Traditionally people ended their day’s practice on the first solid hit. Anders sunk arrow after arrow, missing six of every ten he let fly. He didn’t back up however, since that would just mean missing every time. When he was on the last set of ten, with the wand reset, a voice spoke from behind him. He fired the nocked arrow, since holding a war bow at full draw was beyond him, so far. It was difficult enough that he’d never met a man who could do that, for more than a few breaths.

“You’ve been keeping up with your practice then?” Captain Ford, Duke Lister now, seemed mildly impressed with that fact.

“Well, I’ve done the exercises daily, when I could. There was some disruption, on the march, but other than that I’ve pulled it three hundred times each evening, as instructed. I haven’t had a lot of target practice in the last months. I wasn’t needed to clean the ambassadorial rooms today so decided to make good use of my time. Later I’m going to be making some buildings, using magic. I haven’t learned where I’m doing that, but that’s the current plan. Countess Rainly and some others asked after a demonstration. You should be there for that, to see what can be done for your palace. Princess Salina and Princess Sweyn are working on the plans for that, so you should get with them, to make certain those are to your liking.” He nocked and drew again, working hard not to miss. It wasn’t a perfect hit, but it did hit with a glancing blow that took the wand down.

The former guard Captain ran to set it upright, collecting the spent arrows before jogging back.

“I’m not up on this? What do you mean, a palace?”

He nodded, since it was clear that no one had mentioned that to the man, as of yet.

“Your wedding gift, from both Barquea and Modroc. A joint effort, to show unity, at least of a sort. We should go soon, to your lands and set that up while we still have good weather, for travel. I also have a chest of gold and silver for you. Some nice gems, as well. That’s from Sergeant Gull, Daren Willet and myself. A decent sized chest, too.” He held the bow in his left and placed his hands out, waving a bit with the right to show the size of the thing. “In fact, you can come and get that today, so I don’t have to store it in my room any longer? I’m moving soon, and the less I have to carry the better.”

The man looked at him, as if annoyed, then snorted.

“Ah? So I won’t have to go into debt to keep my wife fed this winter? That’s a wonderful thing. Thank you, for the gift. It sounds like a bit much, to be fair.”

Anders shrugged at the words.

“Not really. I’m technically a Prince now, from Barquea, so the gifts have to be bigger and more impressive. At least I think that’s the case? Just... When we go, I want to leave Hoatha Eta and Lady Martya behind, if at all possible. There have been some small things that worry me with them and I need time away from them to think.”

“You fear danger from that direction?”

The man looked hard as he spoke, but what he meant by the words were impossible to tell.

So Anders looked around, and then whispered.

“I... Yes. I think so. Martya mentioned that her plans had changed, but were going well enough. I’d hoped that she’d drop them. Hoatha... He’s been acting strangely. Not like my old friend Ganges at all. That could mean anything. He’s truly ancient now, and has seen much of many dark things. I can’t help but wonder if he’s truly given over, just to have Farad back in his life. When we were at war, he watched me, more than seeking to revisit the friendship of old. Truly, again, that could mean many things.” He sighed then and closed his eyes.

“He, they, also made the magics that cost your mother her life. I know that we would never think to punish a smith for making a sword used in murder and even that is a step closer than what Ganges did, but... He doesn’t seem to be truly sorry about it. Perhaps too jaded by time and loss to feel such things any longer? There was a time when the mere mention of such a crime would have pushed my old friend to tears. Now, he mouths platitudes and seems unaffected by the world.”

He frowned, as the Duke seemed a bit stiff.

“A man can be affected by battle in such ways. I have felt that myself, at times.”

“As I have as well. I’ve killed so many that I dare not count them all. Close to a hundred thousand, I fear. He’s admitted to taking so many more lives than that... Millions, at the least. The problem here is that, when he spoke of not fearing coming here, because nothing we could do would harm him, I thought he might be seeking to be brave, to impress me. Instead... Some of the things he did at war, to support our efforts, were so incredible and complex that I think he might simply have meant it. If we seek battle there, or treachery, then we’ll lose.” The same was true of Lady Martya, but Anders didn’t mention the danger there.

Jennings simply looked considering for a while, then waved for Anders to continue his practice.

“I’ll see to it that those two stay here then, on the brief run up to my lands? We should have a full guard, do you think?” He rubbed at his smooth jaw, as if trying to work the travel plans out already.

Anders shook his head.

“A few men only. Free up Demo Gull, if possible? I want to make certain he’s up to this new kind of building. I haven’t been checking on his growth in magic as I should. His wizardry has grown, at the very least. We’ll have Princess Mathia, as a guard.” He got ready for the man to laugh at the idea, and felt a bit of mirth over it himself, but the fellow simply nodded.

“We shouldn’t strip this place of the new magic users. Not that they can do much against the threat we’re leaving behind. What plans do you have if they turn on us?”

“Not much, I have to admit. I’ll suggest everyone else flee and then... Die, attempting to purchase time for that? I might stand for, oh, whole seconds, if facing them that way. My best course will be to use words and... I honestly don’t know if that will impact them at all. It was a mistake, bringing Hoatha here. I’d hoped we had an ally, but... I don’t know. Perhaps we do? Perhaps we can seek to shape and alter the plan of these two, so it works for us as well, if nothing else?”

The man actually laughed then. It sounded real and not at all dire.

“Ah? Well, that might be all that is left to us. Still, I’ll go and set this up with the King. How long do you need, to raise the buildings?”

“Two weeks, at a minimum. It depends on how extensive we need things to be.”

There was a nod, and a half wave, as the man stepped off, walking to the practice square the guards used. Even that early, a few were out working already. Anders knew he needed to be doing that as well, but his middle demand tribute, if he was doing magic of note that day. It growled at him when he considered the idea.

Still, there was time to finish the last set of ten arrows, and to collect them all up. Three had broken in practice, and would need to be repaired, if he had half a chance to make that happen. He fully intended to go to the low hall to eat, but after finding his room and stowing his bow and sack full of arrows, altering his clothing for that place, there was a knock on his chamber door.

When he opened it, he blinked, several times.

There, on his own doorstep, stood the King himself.

He bowed, using second courtly, which had the man walking into the room, as if he owned it. Which, of course, he did.

“Anders, do you have a moment?”

“I do. I was just going to the low hall, to get something to eat. What may I do for you?”

The man looked around the space and seemed to find it wanting, after some fashion. It showed on his face.

“I’m concerned about this Grandfather Snow, mentioned in the report you left for Robarts. We have almost no intelligence from that area. Master Tolan sought in that direction and found himself blocked fully, from the entire land of Ferlith, which was a thing unknown before today. He could do more if he rode that way himself, but... The Queen spoke to me this morning, of a vision. One of you, riding, far to the north. Then you vanish, and the vision ended. She doesn’t think it was you dying, but truly said she doesn’t know.”

The man didn’t hold his breath, but seemed ashamed of what was being suggested.

“Oh? How interesting. I was just speaking to Duke Lister about heading to his lands, also up in the north, near the border of Dora. Very near Ferlith, in fact. I could... Perhaps take some presents with me? After all, even if they trained Duke Cohen, who was against us due to his duty, even he stated that they had nothing to do with our petty squabbles down here. Their skills with the dark entities are simply amazing, I have to admit. I’d been told that the riders took control of the host and led them from that point on. Cohen spoke of other things, that I’d never even heard of. It might prove useful for us to gain these skills as well, if we’re forming a center of learning here.”

There was a very slow, small, bow from the King.

“That... Sounds correct? I’m not certain you going alone is the best idea, however. What if you go and find yourself in a trap, or attacked and overmatched?”

Then, he knew, he’d probably die. Instead of complaining about that, he smiled.

“Or, what if they take me and decide that they like me too much to get rid of? I could come back married and fat on sweets, just as likely as harmed or threatened. A man arriving with gifts, from a neighbor, might not be taken too far amiss. Especially if I can bring the glad tidings that we have no aspiration to take their land?”

“Agreed. Still, we need for you to be most careful, Anders. Sending you to your death could anger our friends in Barquea, after all. Also, it would sadden many here, including myself. A thing that... Well, forcing you out at such a young age isn’t the best way to show that, is it?” He paused then. “I hear that you and some of your students are to demonstrate the raising of a structure today? What’s planned for that?”

Anders took a deep breath then and forced a fake grin.

“Almost nothing, to be honest. Is there a building you’d like put up near here? That or we could start work on the school, if a location has been picked for that?”

Turning, as if to leave, the King gestured toward the door. Indicating Anders needed to move with him.

“We don’t, exactly. Not that you can’t simply choose that for yourself, I’m certain. Perhaps the large clearing, between here and the city? That’s close enough that no one will think I’m throwing you away, without being too close to the connivers who would seek to turn you against us. I...” The man shook his head, just a bit, as he opened the door. “I do know that won’t work. I could turn you against me, but I doubt that anyone else would be able to do that too easily. Not that I know what I’ve done to win or deserve such loyalty. Still, not seeing it there, or denying it, would be the worst thing to do.”

When the door was shut, the King looked at him.

“Perhaps you should change into something else for the meal? You’re in with the family, from now on.”

Taking a moment to think, he muttered.

“Clotha relen idi showa pelth drollo kal, fen” His boots were fine, and standing there in the hallway, his outfit altered, into shiny indigo robes with trousers, with a black dragon design in the cloth, that stood out a bit, as if sewn in.

“Ah! That will work. Very good. This way.”

If the King was bothered by the casual magic, it didn’t show in the slightest. They walked slowly, in a stately manner, speaking lightly as they did so. When they got to the lesser hall, where the first meal was taken by the King and his close advisors and family, the room was rather more full than Anders would have expected.

It made sense, because of course it was where the foreign princesses and the queen from the far-off land would be fed each day. That Sulana Meegan was still there made some sense, but had, truly, been a thing that Anders had totally forgotten about. Once he’d left the castle for the war, he hadn’t thought of the lady for even a moment. He kept that lack from his face, bowing toward everyone, including her, to find Lissa waving for him to settle in next to her. The girl was in fine state, wearing robes to show she was a magic user, even if Javina, Jasmin and Salina were in simple dresses.

The youngest girl spoke to him, in Scara, her voice pleasant.

“Did you hear, Anders? Salina is to be the new Great One! I didn’t even know that was a title, really. I’d thought it was just what Grandfather Depak was called.”

He answered, but in Istlan, so that it didn’t seem like they were keeping secrets.

“Yes. Stand ready to take her place if she falls or fails, Princess Lissa. Also, prepare for Depak Sona to see to your personal training as well. We spoke of that on the trail, many times. It’s too dangerous not to have spare Great Ones around.” He was trying to be teasing, but down the table, closer to the King and Heir, Depak Sona smiled and hooded his eyes just a bit.

“Exactly right. Not that you haven’t been doing excellent work of late, on your own. I must admit that I’m rather impressed, by all of you.” The man let himself beam for a few moments, including both Prince Erold and Princess Mathia in his praise, which was kind of him. “You have an event planned for today, of magical interest, Anders?”

He nodded, since it was polite to respond, when spoken to.

Then he scrambled to use actual words.

“I do, as it turns out. King Mathias suggested that we could use the large clearing down the stone road, for that? It’s about an eighth of a mile away from here, and has a stream behind it, as well as a surrounding of woods. People are taking food for mid-meal, to watch the goings on. You should all come, if you have time? It won’t be that interesting for some of you, since we have to keep you from doing any work, Depak Sona. Otherwise, we’ll seem lazy and as if we’re doing this just to force you to do it all. You can call out suggestions for artistry in the structure?”

Princess Salina clapped a few times, and then ducked her head a bit.

“Forgive me, that was a bit abrupt, for the table. I was thinking that I could practice a few things that I have planned for...” She shot an obvious glance at Jasmin then, who clearly took it as being some form of plotting against her. No one explained the situation, either.

Anders waved to get her attention.

“Barquea and Modroc are gifting you and your new husband with a grand palace, on his lands, to the north. The plan is to ride out in a few days, to see to that, in fact. As soon as we’re all prepared for that? Princess Mathia, you’re expected to aid with that, I believe?”

He wasn’t certain that had been mentioned at all, but instead of denying the idea, she nodded.

“I’ve been helping with the planning on that and trying to learn all the needed phrasings, so I can be of some service. I should practice more first, before I go.” She didn’t look at anyone else at the table, just down at Anders, as if that were going to free her from the will of her parents or the King.

So, he worked with her, nodded and pretended that was already a settled matter.

“You can help today, in fact. We all can. Except for you, Depak Sona and Hoatha. Lady Martya is out as well, for the same reason. I would like to have Master Seness on hand, to give input into what kind of facilities an alchemist would like to have. Perhaps one of the cooks, as well? Senna Grace would work for that, if she can be spared from her duties for half a day?”

There was no real reason to bring people in for that part of things. He knew how to build a working kitchen, after all. The woman just deserved some rest, on occasion. As for the Alchemist, he’d been up late the day before, so sitting in the sunlight for a while might be good for him. The man wasn’t exactly youthful, any longer.

The King simply held a hand up, gesturing to one of the messengers.

“Please request Master Seness, and Senna Grace from the kitchens attend the raising of the new college facilities today at... When will you begin, do you think, Anders?”

He had to think about that for a moment, then shrugged.

“If they can be there by about an hour after half morning? Or, really, meet us at the front gate and we’ll all walk over together.” It wasn’t a hard walk after all. Not much worse than going to some locations inside the castle wall, really.

When the King repeated the words, so that they’d come from his lips, directly, the messenger trotted off. The official messengers of the King were the only ones allowed to truly run inside the castle, without being scolded. Unless a true emergency arose, of course. Then everyone did their best that way, nobles or not.

The food came then, and while very good, it was a simple plate of poached eggs, warm bread and some lightly fried pork. He ate with care, the portions a bit scant to truly fuel him for the day. Which wasn’t a problem, since he could eat more than twice, not being on a journey, at the moment. He could even have sweets or other treats, if he ever had time to get into the town and purchase things like that.

The meal lasted a bit less than an hour, meaning that Anders at least needed to walk directly to the front of the castle, to see who wanted to go with him down the stone road, to the site of the new college. It was, he had to admit, kind of an interesting idea. A thing that left him feeling just a bit excited, to be honest. That, feeling as if something good was about to happen was a thing that he hadn’t really noticed for some time. When most of his life had become filled with a quiet sort of dread, expecting negative things constantly had come about, he wasn’t certain.

For some reason he’d expected there to be a few people there, waiting to go to the site. Senna Grace, perhaps, and Tag Seness, since the King had asked for them specifically. Maybe Princess Salina, since she’d actually seemed eager to try out some of her personal ideas. So, it was a bit shocking to find nearly a hundred people, standing with baskets and sacks, ready to go and sit, waiting for him and the others to do something.

Which didn’t seem right to him. Then, he’d seen buildings going up hundreds of times or more. To him it wasn’t that special at all. He didn’t make any sort of announcement that he was leaving however, simply finding the Princesses, who all had followed him to the door, including Jasmin, and for some reason Sulana Meegan and the Queen.

No one came with a carriage for them even, which felt a bit off. Then, there was nothing like that for Prince Robarts, his wife or the King, himself.

Everyone simply walked, following him as if he knew where he was going. That was true, of course. He was familiar with the large clearing, having played there many times, as a child. A time no more than a year and a half before, in fact. It hadn’t happened each day, but it had been a location he’d hidden from work in, more than once.

Before Farad had merged with him, from that damned crystal. Then, after that, doing things like sitting and dreaming of what he’d be in the future had gone away, almost instantly. He’d dreamed of being a fighter back then. Of gaining accolades in war, and being admired by people, who would call his name as he passed.

Now he’d been to war. He’d taken lives. So many of them. He’d gained skills and powers that hadn’t even been in his dreams, back then. More, he’d learned things that no one else could have taught him. Only Farad, the old historian. How to school his mind and tame his anger and will. Compassion for others, which, without that influence, he didn’t think he would have had. Things that were better to have than not.

His life was, he knew, better for having become part of Farad. He wasn’t certain the same was true, the other way around.

They didn’t travel fast, since it would be rude to push the pace, with people who were carrying burdens when he wasn’t. That was, of course, due to him having forgotten to bring food, which doubtless showed a level of brilliance that gave the lie to him having learned much at all. Magical work was much easier to manage if you had enough to eat, after all.

Even moving at a sedate pace, they were at the field, some ten minutes later. He could have made the trip in two minutes, if he’d been alone, of course. Still, when he looked at the cleared space, it was a bit larger than he recalled it having been. Enough that he could have put a copy of the palace there, complete with wall and courtyard. Doing that would be more than a bit showy, of course, though he wanted enough space for several hundred students at one time. That meant making rooms for them and having multiple levels. Also, he decided, separate places to learn and sleep. A large complex to practice fighting and magic, as well.

Princess Salina pointed toward the back.

“We need to build a large, raised cistern. Can you make one of those pumps that does that from flowing water?”

Anders did that first, using several large stones, turning them into smaller pieces, with chambers and tight, but smooth valves. At the same time Salina built a water tower, that was nearly twelve feet high at the bottom of the tank. Nearing twenty, at the top. It wouldn’t allow for total water flow, on a third level or above, but the second level could have that kind of thing, which was better than nothing.

Then, as boring as it sounded, he had to create a large underground seep, for waste and fluids, that was in the right place to not flow into their water supply. It didn’t take long, about half an hour, to have all that finished, but it didn’t seem like they were doing much, as of yet. Except that everyone was acting as if the whole process was riveting.

It wasn’t until he walked the outer wall of the structure he intended to make, that anyone else seemed to get the scope of the project, though. It was a different shape, but going to be nearly as large as the castle, in the near distance. Not visible from there, except a single tower, through the treetops.

Then he started to work, focusing only on what he was doing, calling out the needed spells, as others, Depak Sona and Princess Lissa, brought him food and water every half hour or so. At the same time Princess Mathia worked on the combat practice structure, which was large, but not as big as what he was putting up. For one thing, it was only a single level, though the ceiling was going to be nearly thirty feet up. Both of those places had windows, since, as soon as they were done, Prince Erold and Princess Javina both started using sand from the stream to make glass for them. Thin sheets that were smooth and allowed light in, but which were a soft tan in color, not allowing anyone to see in or out. They could be opened though, to allow for that, as well as letting air in at need.

The work went quickly, but still took most of the day. Though, the truth was that it took longer, due to Anders not being cautious enough about his words. As they nearly finished, in the midafternoon, Depak Sona walked up and directed alterations to the buildings, both inside and out, for decoration. Thankfully he was fine with patterns that they all had names for, instead of insisting on novel work being done in stone, as they built.

Doing the picky work on that took nearly as long as making the place had. In the end, they had large structures, but no beds for the students, in their barracks, or other furnishings in the learning rooms. He was willing to start on that immediately, when the King stood and started to clap his hands, as if at the end of a particularly well performed entertainment. The rest of the crowd joined in then. It went on for some minutes, until Princess Salina, wisely, bowed to them.

He did that as well, which meant that everyone else working on the buildings did, and the crowd did it back, in various forms. It stopped the noise from being made, which had the King standing and walking over to him.

“Brilliant work, all of you! I’d toured the small place you made in the woods, but this... Simply amazing! Making a gift such as this for Duke Lister as a wedding gift from both Barquea and the Modroc is a true sign of friendship. You all plan to leave in the next days, to travel to Lister? I was told that it would take you two weeks of work to see to that? This seems faster than that? Unless you plan something truly vast, perhaps?”

Princess Salina moved forward then, knowing the plans for the work.

“Not this large, for either dwelling, but two of them. One for the cold months and another for the warm. It won’t take that long, but...”

Anders smiled, scrambling for a reason that he’d said it would take that long.

“We’re expecting Duke Lister and his wife, Princess Jasmin, to want furnishings as well? Also defensive fortifications. That will take longer, as we might need to learn new patterns and woodworking skills, to make all that’s needed. I have to do this for these places still as well, but I can see that everyone wishes to skip that boring detail. It could take a bit to see to that. Days, possibly?” He grinned at the idea, as if seeing beds formed from sticks and trees would be worse than a building being put up.

The King laughed, as if Anders were making a jest, of course. Everyone followed suit, which he did as well. After all, the man was the King, and clearly trying to get everyone there out of his hair.

Chapter twenty-six

Anders felt tired as they finally set out toward Duchy Lister. The previous days had been busy, after a fashion, but also boring. Instead of working with the servants and Lissa on new skills, or creating a text for them to work from, he’d spent almost the entire time seeing to coin and shopping for goods that would be needed for the trip. Duke Lister, who had been in the Army before becoming a castle Guard, one of the Fenris, had figured on picking up some basic supplies for the trip and simply going, riding on horseback the whole way.

The Queen, however had different ideas, and had suggested, rather sternly that they would not be placing Princess Sweyn on the back of a horse for the journey. The plans for the new palace were hers in part and she was still early in her pregnancy, not even truly showing yet, so she’d be traveling in a fine carriage, not riding like a commoner.

That idea had left Anders fighting a rolling of his eyes in her presence. After all, commoners didn’t ride horses. They walked. At best they found a place in the back of a rough wagon. The issue there was that, if one princess was supposed to ride in a carriage and be pampered, then they needed to do that with the others, as well. The covered boxes on wheels and horses were being provided by the King, from his own stable and stock, but in the direction they were traveling there wouldn’t be a lot of fine accommodations.

So, instead of trying to argue with a Queen, Anders had simply smiled, nodded and spent a double handful of gold and silver making certain that everything would be as fine as possible for the trip. At least for Princess Jasmin, Princess Sweyn and Eltha Tennet, as well as Princess Javina. They were in two different carriages, both made of polished wood, with ample pillows for sitting inside. They also had a full wagon, being pulled by Poke and Crook, the second massive ox being new to him, his other having died of old age in the last month. No one had told Anders about that, until he’d gone to collect them.

It was a shame, because he could have actually done something about that, had he thought of it. Instead, an animal that he owned had lacked for treatments he could provide and died because of it.

The rest of them were on horseback, which seemed to surprise a few of them. Queen Maura had tried to insist that Princess Mathia be set to riding inside a carriage as well, but Anders had, carefully, refused that idea.

After all, he was promoting the idea that she, along with Prince Erold were supposed to be stronger than that. It was one thing to treat visitors as special, but another to put their own people, mages, who needed to be able to protect themselves and others, into such a situation.

When Princess Salina was led to a horse, one she was used to riding, the woman had merely snorted and gave a nod. Princess Lissa, it turned out, could ride as well, since all the Barquean Princesses had lessons in such things, but didn’t get the correct idea at first. Even having had recent practice, on the road, from some months before.

As he yawned, feeling as if he might drift back off to sleep, the girl nudged her rather fine courser beside Chestnut. Brownie was on the other side, having to carry the pack this time.

“Prince Anders?” The girl didn’t seem upset, but her young face was baffled. “Not that I mind riding, but why wasn’t I put in a carriage, as well? I’m a Princess...”

He nodded, but didn’t have to answer, thankfully. Not that the girl would have been rude about his answer. She wasn’t that sort of person, being easy to get along with, for a Princess. It was her older sister, Salina, who did that part. Kindly, which was good to see, early in the trip.

“Because you may be called on to be a Great One, one day, Lissa. That... If it comes to it, you have to be willing to give your life, to protect our people. That means we, both of us, can’t be as soft as we once were. I didn’t really understand what it meant, until I saw the war. What was needed there...” She rode in silence for a moment, though it was clear that Captain Ford was listening. That wasn’t hard, since Salina was speaking in Istlan, which was, of course, not for Lissa at all. It was, no doubt, for Princess Mathia. Possibly Prince Erold.

When she spoke again, she seemed a bit sad.

“When the battles came, the Istlan Great One, Sir Brolly, put himself out front, each time. He led each charge, fought personally each time and shared every risk. There... He had to kill the enemy of his people on a level that... Well, it won the war, didn’t it? I had to kill as well. We all did, who were there, but I saw what might be required of a Great One. It isn’t about the praise heaped upon them, later, at all. There is a weight to be carried, and in brief moments almost everything in the world might need to be on your shoulders. Mine, as well. So, we ride on a horse, rain or shine and guard these others, even if it doesn’t make much sense to have an eleven-year-old doing that!”

The younger Princess nodded.

“Twelve, now. I didn’t know I was going to be protecting anyone. How do I do that?”

Duke Lister nodded, and spoke then.

“Ready your magics and hold them in preparation, if you can. You don’t have a bow... Can you throw magics any distance?”

The girl hunched a bit, but looked at the man boldly enough, after sighing.

“About... Thirty paces? I’m not accurate that way, but I’ve done it. I can actually hit things at about five paces? Grandfather Depak had me practice that a few times, after he came back.”

Rather than seem disgruntled at the lack of range, the Duke smiled.

“For now, ride near the middle. Any attacks will come at the head or the tail of the line. We aren’t a huge group, so that could happen. Bandits and all that. We have only two guards, as far as anyone will be able to see. That and a lot of young people. It might be tempting for some. If anyone comes for you, shield first, then start throwing magic at them. Don’t waste yourself on throwing things too far if you can’t possibly hit yet. Hold to closer moves, and stay calm.”

The man looked around, and barked a bit then, so his words would carry.

“Gull! How are you with ranged magics?”

The man eased his horse over, instead of yelling about his prowess.

“Not too bad? I’ve worked with a bow more, of late, so can use that to carry spells. I’m a little limited in what I can put out that way. Explosions, zones of freezing and fire. A few other things, but most won’t do much in battle. I have a horn bow with me, for use from horseback.”

Anders had one of those as well, but the truth was, he’d never used one from the back of an animal, so didn’t mention the idea. Not that it mattered. The Duke simply assigned people from that point, as if he already understood their skills.

“So, guards in the front, Princess Lissa and Princess Mathia in the middle, behind the carriages, with myself and Gull taking up the rear. What do you have for yourself, Prince Erold and Princess Salina, Anders?” The man seemed almost teasing, as if he thought he was placing Anders into a location where doing nothing would happen.

That wasn’t his plan.

“We’ll be seeing to the road, as we ride, so will do that part. I also want at least one person using wizardry at all times, checking the road ahead. Check for possible attack, but also other problems. Everything you can think of, including coming weather. When we stop for the day, I want a travel waystation put up, wherever possible. Maybe an inn? I’ll do the first one, tonight. As soon as we leave the mettled road, I want that work to be done. We’ll be moving at ox speed anyway, so we can do that and not lose any time.”

Prince Erold, riding a bit away, but inside earshot, lifted a hand.

“I gather I’m up first for the road work? I hate doing that, you do understand that, don’t you, Anders?” He grinned though, as if not really complaining.

Anders laughed, not meaning it, but striving to put some effort into the sound.

“It isn’t the most interesting thing to do, is it? Still, we need to improve all the roads in Istlan, over time, and probably the ones in Yanse, as well, so we might as well start here. Just wait until we go to Barquea and Modroc and do the roads there, as well...” He grinned, putting some effort into it.

Salina made a face, but didn’t strike out at the idea of helping a former enemy.

“We have food for that kind of work?”

He nodded, since they had more than enough for the trip, in the wagon being driven by a hired man. Svenson. Anders had scanned his mind on a level that was probably improper and found him a little simple, but a good sort, for all that. He was skilled with animals and actually cared for them and could sit on a wagon seat, driving, all day long with little discomfort. Especially if the rest of them could keep the road smooth.

“I planned for it, so yes. Anyone not doing the heavy work should see to it that those who are have food, constantly. Water, as well.” They didn’t have to hunt for the trip, strictly speaking, though he was willing to do that, if it came up.

That idea had some nodding going on, since it was the easy duty, simply passing someone a bit to eat and a camp cup with water in it, every half hour or so. Gull called out then, his voice sturdy, even if it wasn’t strictly his place to make assignments. Then, Anders was doing the same thing, so he wasn’t going to complain too much.

“Anders, you’re up for the first round of watching, if Prince Erold is going to be doing the road work? I should do that, too. I have the basics for that, but haven’t done a lot to practice.”

The Duke waved at Anders, and gave a serious nod.

“We’ll trade tasks out, each day?”

Everyone agreed to that, though his own plan had been to trade out every few hours, making the individual tasks far easier. It was good practice to do hard things over time as well, so he simply nodded and sank into a deep trance state, scanning the world around them.

“The weather will be clear, probably for the next three days. Then we might see some rain. Not a lot. I’m not finding anyone with sinister intentions on the road ahead, but we wouldn’t yet, this close to the castle. No animals, either.” His voice was slow and distant to his own ears. He lost track of things for a while then, focused on the world as tightly as he was.

Seeking for any tricks, traps or ways that someone might have gotten around his skills. There were, after some hours, people on the road, but they were simply travelers, making their way to some of the villages along the way. On the rutted dirt path, ahead of them.

Anders, on Chestnut, rode only on an improved, hard-packed road that was basically smoothed over stone, created from dirt. A thing that was slightly hard on the wagon wheels, and horseshoes, but easier on the axles and legs. Anders roused, after some hours, since they were stopping, to get water at a stream, that ran alongside the road.

He took that time to check on Prince Erold, who had been doing the heavy work, and found him annoyed at the effort and heavy breathing he was doing, but fine, otherwise. He was powerful enough, as far as magic went, after all. Then he checked all of the animals, and moved around, fixing a few saddles, and in two cases, soothing rubbed spots, using magic, to protect their mounts. No one commented on it, though Duke Lister did give him a nod, as soon as he was finished.

Anders simply reported.

“Nothing new, as far as what lies ahead. The next good stopping point is about three miles north of here. There’s a village there, this time.”

Princess Sweyn, out of her carriage, walked around and stretched a bit, seeming to be nearly as annoyed as her husband.

“I’m nearly useless here, aren’t I? I should take a turn riding. Except... I don’t want to make Queen Maura angry with me. So I sit and let myself be carried along.”

She seemed to be honestly bothered by the idea, and worse, Anders had nothing at all to amuse the woman with. The others forced to ride, either. After a bit, he nodded.

“Princess Javina, could you provide an entertainment, when we stop next? A bit of music, perhaps? Use illusion for it.”

That got him glared at, but the Princess sighed and nodded.

“I can try. It won’t be very good. I’ve never paid that much attention to that sort of thing. Others always did that for me, not the other way around!”

Princess Jasmin actually glared at him, which took him by surprise.

“That’s fine for her, but what are the rest of us supposed to do? This isn’t a very pleasant trip so far, is it?”

Everyone went silent for a moment, seeming strained, since Jasmin wasn’t normally a bratty person, compared to some. She was feeling useless, at the moment, of course, since riding in a carriage was like that. He hadn’t even thought to bring any books for the others to read or anything. Clearly, no one else had either. If it was him, he’d have gone into a trance or practiced magic, which was pretty much what the rest of them were actually doing.

So he shrugged.

“Teach Eltha and Princess Sweyn the basic hand magic set? They can both learn it. I’m a bit surprised no one has seen to that yet, to be honest.”

Sweyn gave him a strange look then and shook her head.

“My people aren’t strong in magic. I can’t do that.”

“I checked, and you, personally, have the basic talent and a keen enough mind for it. You don’t have to learn, but what else do you have to do at the moment?” That was a lie, since Anders didn’t really know if that was the case at all, but the learning would distract her, in the moment, if she could apply herself.

Jasmin clapped, as if given a prize.

“Oh, that sounds much better. Not fun, truly, but at least a thing to do? Let’s try, anyway?” She was nearly pleading, which got a bemused nod from the others, even if they didn’t seem eager, for some reason.

Which were things that Anders didn’t bother thinking about for several hours, going back to watching the road and surrounding areas. When they stopped it was by a small village, but other than a few people looking at them, from a distance as they watered the horses, nothing much happened.

Except for Javina proving that she was both capable of making music and that she honestly didn’t know any tunes to play. What she came out with wasn’t well done, but it was entertaining, watching her blush over the failure. She started to glare at Anders over it, when Salina hugged her.

“Well, you have about half of it, don’t you? Next time we hear some music, we should try to memorize it and practice, for things like this. Magic isn’t just about throwing power around.”

It was true, though they also had the entertainment of watching Eltha and Sweyn do exactly that. Jasmin set up stones for them to push, near the small stream, and set them to doing that for a quarter hour, to prove they had the basic skill down. Then they both had to make lights hover over their hands. It was clear that Eltha was better at that than Sweyn was, and much more powerful, but there was a healthy glow over the hand of the Princess. Easily enough to show a path in front of her at night.

When they got underway, it was clear that they weren’t going to be stopping for the day. Sweyn was far too excited for that. After all, she’d believed that she couldn’t do magic at all. Even if it was a weak talent for her, she now understood that she honestly could do it. That had to be intriguing for her.

Riding in a trance wasn’t boring, strictly speaking, but he missed a lot of what was happening as far as conversation went, or directives about watching the immediate area. He was doing that, but at a remove, not using his eyes for the task. It was different, doing that sort of thing for hours on end. Easier, in a way, after a while, but also easier to become distracted. He was picking up things from the minds of others, for instance, which mainly had to do with boredom, or in a few cases, a desire to answer a call of nature.

They held to the pattern of riding at a mild pace, stopping to rest the horses and people every two hours. On the fifth stop, still early in the day, since they’d gotten an early start, Duke Lister called a halt.

“We’ll put in here for the night. Is this field large enough for an inn, do you think, Brolly?”

The man was smirking over the idea, clearly jesting, but he nodded. It would be extra effort to add in a full water system, but the very fact that he didn’t want to bother with it kind of indicated it was a thing he needed to do. Making a larger building, with many rooms, a full kitchen and a common area was going to be more work than they needed for themselves, strictly speaking.

“Yes. It will take a few hours, since we need to do this right. Salina, can you help with this? I’d like a water tower, like what we did for the school?”

She nodded, her face blank.

“Yes. Let me... take care of some small matters, first?” Her voice was hopeful, and Anders got the point, so didn’t comment on it, merely nodded.

“I won’t be ready for a while, anyway.” He needed to walk the space and plan it out, first.

He was still, more or less, stuck in a trance state, so simply planned, then started on the work, making a two-story dwelling, with a large open room on the first floor, and a slanted, snow shedding, roof on the top. There were windows, which he left open at first, feeling only a bit surprised when Lissa took the duty of making glass for them. Those, were clear, he noticed, which was impressive and a skill that he hadn’t learned at all, yet. He could, he supposed, make up a word for it, but he hadn’t, as of yet.

There was piping in the thick walls, and fireplaces in each of the rooms. This time, instead of stopping at the end, the place not being the size of a palace or castle at all, he worked on furnishings. Those were made to look nice, if not in a way that was truly special. There were no inlaid carvings or patterns, for instance.

In all, the work took about four hours, but they were able to move food in, and since Gull and the drivers had gotten wood for them, so he was able to start a good meal, indoors, in the new kitchen, before it was too late to see anything.

On the outside, the white building looked clean and sturdy, but not truly fancy in any way. It was, of course, a copy of things that he’d seen in other location, only made of what seemed to be smooth stone, instead of wood. They had water, as well as spigots made of real stone inside, which did make cooking far easier and faster, he realized. That was Salina’s work.

A thing which got him to smile. There had been no hint of complaining about the hardships, from anyone. The only real whining so far had been from Princess Jasmin and she’d fixed that, as soon as she had something to do.

Anders was the one with the food and the cooking skills, but he had aid, in the form of Prince Erold. They were traveling after all, and the man was good about pitching in on things. He did complain a bit, in an affable fashion.

“I’ve never used magic for that long before. I feel like I just spent the whole day running. I can barely move.” He sounded tired, too. A real thing, that seemed almost exhausted.

Still, the Prince cleaned some sturdy roots and greens taken from a box with a preservation spell on it. A thing that slowed time enough that even delicate foods would last for months, if it were left undisturbed.

Rallying a bit himself, finally, he nodded.

“I know. It’s different than doing it for a few hours at a time. We all need to be ready for that kind of thing, so it’s good practice. Can you quarter those roots, next? I’ll get the big pot going.”

The Prince did it, fairly well, considering he wasn’t trained for such things. They worked in silence for a while, not really doing more than preparing a hearty stew and some flat bread, using a bit of yeast mother from his store of such, as well as a sauce for the vegetables. It was a good effort, for being on the road like they were. Not truly fine enough for Princesses and Dukes, but better than a real inn would have provided, he thought. Then, he didn’t have to have a pot going for hours, as people trickled in for the night, which was easier to manage with something approaching quality.

When the meal was served, everyone settling in the main room, Duke Lister looked around the place and nodded.

“Can we do something similar each time we stop? If the space is available for it, I mean? If we can provide a good road and clean places to stay, more commerce will flow north, to my Duchy. This is on the King’s road, so we’ll need to send for people to man the places, but a lot will be willing to try it, if they can live in a building like this, I wager.”

Anders was a bit tired, but had to agree with the idea, at least at its heart. Still, if he were making the same type of building, over and again, he needed to come up with a word that meant a specific type, that would have everything included in one simple phrase. It was more to learn, but would be easier and more efficient than using a hundred different spells for the same thing, day after day.

“Something like new taverns, near villages, and towns, as well?” He didn’t drink, but people enjoyed that kind of thing and a good tavern was more of a meeting hall and entertainment spot than anything else.

“Do it. We might be wasting the time, but we didn’t really lose out that way, today. Good work on the road, Prince Erold. How long do you think it will take to do all of Istlan?” That was for the Prince, so Anders was allowed to eat, using a wooden spoon, out of his small bowl. There were greens heaped on the top, which made it seem a bit strange, but no one complained about that. They just ate, even if Mathia seemed baffled by the flat bread, at first.

She picked at it, as if she hadn’t eaten it before, which wasn’t the truth. Anders had cooked on the road for them, on the last trip, after all. It could, of course, be something else. She might simply not enjoy that type of thing, or something along those lines, he had to consider.

Everyone else ate it, including the drivers, who had moved to the side, sitting at one of the tables, in a small group. They whispered a bit, but didn’t laugh or seem to be doing too much more than listening, carefully. They were eating the same food as the rest of them, and seemed to be enjoying it well enough.

When Prince Erold spoke, his voice was pensive. Also tired sounding.

“It’s real work and we don’t have a lot of people who can do it, yet. We can probably see to the main portions of it this year, before winter, if I ride out personally for it. Anders, you can do this as well, right?” That was probably meant as a dig, or possibly just the man suggesting he not be put to the task alone.

“I can. I’ll drive things north and see to the east, along the border with Yanse? After we see to Lister, that is. We might be better served training people for the fall and winter months, and having them work that sort of thing in the spring and summer, as training. We need to have everyone in at least a basic sort of condition, at the college. Our mandate is to be prepared for war, at all times, after all. Duke Lister, any recommendations on who to have for fighting? We need full weapons work, as well as the magical sort of thing that way, so that everyone at least understands what the military is doing.”

The Duke actually shrugged, which wasn’t a very noble thing of him to do at all.

“Get Demo to do it? He needs to be working on magic anyway, and has been in war, in the Army, then served with the castle guard. He’s a good teacher, too, so that works. It will mean leaving the guard, but the King will allow it, if you’re still supporting the land and future war efforts.”

Gull actually wrinkled his nose, then sighed.

“That sounds like a good start, for the rest of my life. Doing magic though... It wasn’t what I figured to be doing with my last years, you know?”

Anders didn’t chime in that, if the man learned enough, it probably wouldn’t be his last years at all. He’d already worked out enough healing and time manipulation that aging wasn’t a thing he was worried about, for instance. It would take him about two days to teach all of that to the other man, if he wanted to bother learning it. There would be a lot more to learn, at a college, of course, than simply doing a specific job, but making that, how to survive for a long time, part of the curriculum simply seemed correct.

Princess Sweyn nodded though.

“I hadn’t thought I could learn that kind of thing at all. We don’t really do that, in Modroc. Very few learn magic. We focus more on the riders, as a practice. That and illusion. We use that for entertainment, though, not in war.”

Her words were quiet, in the next sentence.

“I could, perhaps, learn at this school, as well? I don’t know if that’s allowed...”

Anders shook his head, her face falling.

“With a child on the way? Probably not. No, for you we’ll need a special tutor. I’d ask Princess Lissa to do that, but for now... Will you see to that, Princess Jasmin? You should be practicing every day, anyway.” He looked at her then, hoping her answer would be polite, at least.

She closed her eyes, smiling at the same time.

“That would be a pleasure, Princess Sweyn! It will also save you beatings, since Lissa is a harder instructor that way than I am. She even hits her own sisters, if you can believe that?”

The girl gave them all a stern, prim, glare.

“Only if people refuse to learn fast enough.”

Gull smiled then.

“It works, too. Willet and I both struggled mightily to avoid that stick, down in Barquea, I assure you. Probably best not to use that on a woman who’s with child. Save that kind of thing for military training and for hard types. Say, how many hours a day will the magic types be learning weapons and fighting, Anders?”

He didn’t know, but tilted his head, thinking.

“Three. The day will be in four parts. Magical practice, book learning, fighting and warcraft and working at some kind of craft, using magic. Wood working, stonework, healing, that sort of thing. Three-hour blocks. The rest of the day the students will have to themselves.” That didn’t leave much time, but anyone going there would be expected to put up with hardships, for a while.

One of the drivers, rather softly, spoke then.

“You teaching people to read and write, like, too? Or is this only for the fine types?”

Anders smiled at the words, instead of being caught out.

“We’ll be teaching that, if people don’t come in knowing it. Languages and memory skills, as well. It won’t be the prime focus, but it’s useful to memorize texts at times. Anyone with the right magical skills and a good mind will be allowed in. It’s the start of a lifelong career, though. In times of war, they’ll have to go and fight. In times of peace, part of the year will be spent in service to the kingdom. Making roads, healing the poor and things like that. Are any of you interested?”

No one jumped on the idea, but they wouldn’t, being more than a bit fearful of magic still. That would, he hoped, be changing, soon.

Chapter twenty-seven

They were at mid-day, having made good time, when Anders tried out his latest phrase, raising a small building near a stream, in a quarter hour. It didn’t have water connected to it, and was little more than a roof with four walls and a sturdy foundation, but a dozen people could sleep on the floor inside, in a pinch, if they needed to. He made a sign saying as much, and was riding on, making the road in front of them, when the Duke called for them to move out again.

Having a proper spell for such things was truly a lot easier than doing it the other way. He’d learned three new types of structures the night before, instead of sleeping, when he’d laid down. It meant he was light on sleep, perhaps, but what he’d gotten had been enough, if barely. As he worked that day, Salina handed him food and water, in the saddle, so that he didn’t need to slow his road making efforts. It was still enough work to leave him slightly breathless, but other than that and some sweat, he was fine enough. Even that, the dampness he felt, was due to the heat of the day, rather than his hard work of the moment.

Javina was the one in a trance, searching things out for them, as she rode in one of the carriages. If there was anything to report, she hadn’t mentioned it to him. Then, she would have reported to the Duke, not anyone else, if it was important. Instead of worrying about that, he kept his right hand pointed forward, indicating where the road needed to go. It wasn’t hard to do, except that the constant use of energy was a drag on his soul.

It made for a full day, since every time they stopped, he put up another small structure, if it was possible. In one location it simply wasn’t, given the terrain, so he’d made a wider spot in the road, for wagons to turn around in, if they ever needed it.

In all, the road they were traveling on was improved greatly, with their passing. That night he started to work on a new inn, as requested, having a new word for that, as well, only to find Salina moving in and starting in on it, before he could even get set. Rather than interrupt her, he stood back, surprised. Not by Salina, who was growing into her position as Great One, or at least being an apprentice for that position, but at the fact that a small collection of men and women from the local town, which they were outside of by a small distance, came and stood there, wringing their hands, and goggling. Not only at the building of apparent stone growing there, but the state of the road, behind them.

They approached, moving not toward any of the fine dressed people, but rather toward Svenson, who was tending to the goods wagon. Anders could hear them, but didn’t intervene or move to protect the man. They didn’t seem violent, after all.

“What is this, ifn we can ask, it being thought proper like?” This came from a very old man, who was in dyed blue clothing, which marked him as being somewhat successful, no doubt. The rest of the people had bits of color to their clothing as well, though not all of it was clean.

Svenson, tow headed and a bit wrinkled at the eyes, waved at the place growing behind them.

“Duke Lister and his friends are putting up inns along the King’s road. One of you should take it on as a project, if you can. It will be a lot finer than what most have. I stayed in one last night. In a soft bed, and washed my face out of water in my own room, this morning. It just pours from the wall, when you lift a little gate. That boy over there is Master Brolly, the war mage who won the war with Yanse? He’s set to start a big school, to teach what he does. It’s opened up for anyone that has the gift for that kind of thing. I heard the King’s payin for it?” The man rubbed at his face, his thick beard being brushed to the side in places for a moment. “The King was going to make him a full Duke, for what he did, but he turned it down flat, not being old enough for that. I have to reckon that as being wise of him, don’t you think? Instead, he begged for a mighty college to be built. They, these folk and some others, put up a grand set of buildings in a single day! They also built road like this back here, all the way back to the castle, nearly. The whole kingdom is getting that. There are buildings like this and some others for folk to shelter in, if the weather turns foul on them, too. Just sitting at the side of the road, for any in need to use. Not just the wealthy and powerful, neither. They was real clear on that. Anyone, from King to plow boy.”

There was a disgusted sound, from a younger man, in the back.

“We don’t need no magic, round these parts! What we had was fine enough! Magic brings in dark things, death and ruin, we all know that!” The fellow was worked up, but a few in the crowd did try to shush him, at least a bit.

Anders moved over then, in case the fellow attacked. It was his job to protect Svenson, after all, not the other way around. He’d hired the man, so that duty was his.

Besides, letting the blowhard have the last word would leave people agreeing with him.

“That’s old thinking and wrong. The people of Istlan don’t fear magic any longer. That’s sweeping the whole land, in fact. I’m surprised it hasn’t reached here yet... Anyway, magic is just a tool. A thing that some can learn to use, to do useful things, like this. Some person, a long time ago, started rumors about magic being bad, not understanding that and it sort of stuck. We’re changing that thought now. It’s just a tool, after all. Now, is one of you the headman here?”

That, it turned out, was the first man, who had spoken to Svenson. The man in all blue.

“I be that, sir. Or, er, lord? I don’t know how to say it, what you’re called?”

Duke Lister, smiling, moved over at about that time.

“Sir, works. He’s a full knight. The youngest ever named such, in Istlan, in fact. For his part in the last war.”

The old man tried to bow, botched it pretty badly and did something close to a curtsy. A few of the others tried to do that, as well.

“No offense meant, Sir Brolly!” He ducked a few more times, and looked as if he really figured Anders was going to be bothered by that sort of thing.

“None taken, of course. What’s your name, if I may ask?”

“Thom Firs, headman for Goshberry, back there, Sir Brolly.”

He bowed, using first courtly, and looked into the town, for the first time.

“Do you have room for a new meeting house? We can put one up today, if you like?”

The man tried to demure, at first, the others seeming shy, but he finally led Anders to a large open lot, just off the center of the town. It was more work for the day, but he got to try out one of his new spells, calling a meeting place into being. It seemed to grow on its own, and did have water to it, as well as a small barn stuck onto the back of it. The structure was a bit plain, on the outside, but with some decoration could have been used as a temple for various gods, if required. The place was three stories high, but mainly had one large room inside, with the back half having rooms to use as office spaces or storage.

Instead of more strange, awkward bowing, the people just stood there, gaping for a while. Finally, one of them, a small girl, walked up to him. He didn’t know how old she was, but he had to figure it was very youthful.

“Can you come and fix my house? It leaks.”

A woman, seeming careworn and scared, ran to the girl, taking her hand.

“Elise! Don’t say things like that! We can’t bother these important people!”

Anders, feeling tired from a full day’s work, forced a smile, trying to make it seem real.

“Where is it, Elise?” She was, he decided to guess, possibly four years old, so even having been scolded, a moment before, waved in the right direction.

“That way. It’s not far. I can show you?”

It took a different type of effort to fix the thatch roofed cottage, which truly was about to fall down. The mother, Glaren, explained the reason for that, as he worked.

“My Micah died, just after Elise was born. I don’t have a man, so... I tried to fix it.” She seemed truly shamed by her lack of a good place to live.

That she’d honestly tried was apparent. Where it was held up, tied in some places, it was even strong enough. The rest of it wasn’t going to last though.

The trick was that he needed to replace it all, without seeming to just raze it and starting over. After all, Micah had built it in the first place and doing that would damage his memory. That meant he was doing the work on it as darkness fell, just finishing as Prince Erold and Svenson walked up, to see what he was getting up to. Why the driver was there, he didn’t really understand. Except that he was the one the people there had been comfortable enough with to approach, first thing.

Erold was in a new outfit, which was loose, plain and light tan in color. The cloth seeming thick and a bit like homespun. If that tricked anyone in accepting him, Anders didn’t know, being busy, replacing the roof and making some glass windows for the place. They weren’t perfectly clear, and were thick enough not to break if hit by anything normal, but they’d let a lot of light in and trap the heat, in the winter. They could open, for use in summer.

Then they needed shutters on the outside, which took even longer, as they stood there, waiting for him. He hurried, but felt watched, the entire time.

“Finally! Sorry about that, Glaren. I wasn’t trying to take up the whole evening on this, leaving you standing out here like this. This should be a bit snugger, for the winter months. It won’t leak, now.”

Elise, looking tiny, moved in and touched his arm with her slightly grubby hand.

“Thanks be to you, Brolly. I like it. This is much better.”

The mother was about to thank him as well, when Prince Erold laughed. It wasn’t mean sounding.

“No rest for you, Anders! We actually need you to come and cook for us. Salina has the kitchen ready and Svenson and the others collected wood for us, and have a fire going. Sweyn started it. Using magic. She’s very proud of that fact. Not that I blame her, it was impressive.” He seemed almost defensive on the last bit.

Anders simply grinned.

“That’s good progress then, considering she’s been riding in the back of a carriage for days while she’s learned. What else does she know... actually, I’ll test her, after the meal.” He turned then, and bowed to the girl and her mother. “Ladies? I have some work to get to. Sorry to run off on you. If you need anything else, let us know before we leave? That might... We should also be back, in a few weeks, if nothing else.”

The mother nodded.

“My thanks, Sir Brolly. This is a wonder. A kindness...”

It was getting awkward, so Anders simply bowed again, and ignored the blushing that Glaren was doing. Distracted by that going on, Anders didn’t really notice that a man was running at him, fists clenched to fight, at first.

He turned, ready to make the man explode, his right hand clenched for it and power flowing into the move, when he realized it was just the grumpy young man from earlier, who wasn’t certain about magic. The fellow swung wildly, having to stop running in order to do that, which Anders stepped back from easily.

Smiling. There was a bit of question in his expression, but he didn’t lash back at the fellow.

The man was heavier than he was, but not by a vast amount. It was also very clear that he didn’t know how to fight. Not in a trained fashion, at any rate. Anders dropped into a hasty, rather light, trance, trying to work out what the fellow thought he was doing there.

That, it turned out, was protecting his town, from the magical monster who had come to plague them. By which he meant Anders, of course. The one who had tried to seduce Glaren, a good woman, with a small palace. A thing that the man figured would work to win her over, of course. It really was a nice seeming place.

So, instead of doing anything too violent, Anders ducked a few times, and finally, not wanting to be beaten by the man, moved in right after a large, powerful, blow and tapped him in the jaw, hard enough to knock the man to his knees. He tried to get up then, which had Svenson moving, to push him down.

“Stop. What are you thinking? These are good people. Stand now and apologize!” The driver seemed to be honestly upset, and Anders doubted that the man was going to do it, so readied to continue the fist fight, if it was needed, when a few others from the town, who had been hanging back and watching, in the distance, moved in. One of them was the old headman.

“Sorry there, Sir Brolly... I... Sender, why? Now you’re going to be hung and what did you prove? Only that you can’t beat a boy in a fight. This was foolish, after Sir Brolly gifted us with a nice new meeting place and an inn. This could be big-like, for Goshberry! Now they’ll probably kill us all for being ungrateful!”

Anders waved that away, the knuckles on his right-hand aching from the single blow he’d landed. Instead of angrily demanding death in retribution, a thing that, very clearly, everyone else there seemed to expect, Anders laughed.

“See Sender? You don’t really fear magic hardly at all! Now, let’s put this behind us and not seek unneeded violence in the future? I expect better of you. Going around, getting into fights... What would your mother think?” The man was probably old enough not to be bothered by the invocation of his mother, but a woman from the back of the crowd that had gathered frowned and stepped forward.

“I don’t think too highly of it, to be true. Is he to be hung? He’s a good man, I swear, mostly. Not like this, tryin to hit people and the like. My only child wot lived, so...”

Anders bowed toward the woman, who didn’t do it back, seeming not to know if she should or not. When he stood, Erold spoke.

“This is repaired, then? Good. We need our cook back, if we’re eating tonight. I can boil some roots, and maybe some meat, but that’s not going to be nearly as tasty, is it?”

That was probably true. After all, Anders was the one with all the spices. Though, if Erold could find that, he could make something passable, no doubt. Boiling things wasn’t the best way to make it all, but it would work, and keep people alive.

Rather than wait to find out if he was going to be attacked again by Sender, Anders turned and walked off, his wizard skills behind him, on the still angry man. Upset or not, the fellow was focused on what Glaren would think of him, having been so easily defeated as he’d been, instead of planning to prove that he could thrash a man who had done that to him, with a single blow, hardly even trying.

When they were nearly back to the new inn, Anders shrugged.

“He thought I was going to take advantage of Glaren, who he’s fond of. It was misplaced, but nothing to get worked up over.” He didn’t think so, at least.

Erold growled.

“We’ll need to hide this, from Duke Lister, then. He really will hang the man for doing that. As a knight, well, you have that choice as well, and could have him killed if it were your pleasure, but no one would insist on it. You’re also a Prince of Barquea, though, and the grandson of a baron. Either of those things would end in death for that man, no matter what you say about it. Honestly, I should insist on it, so that Barquea won’t view it as an act of war.”

He hadn’t really considered it that way, even though it did sound about right, now that it was mentioned. Even he’d grown up knowing not to attack nobles.

Rather than go on about that, he waved at the Prince.

“I was introduced as a knight though, and handled myself well enough that I don’t have to hide from the minor scuffle in shame. What say you, Svenson? Should we keep this quiet, do you think?”

The man actually glared at him, as if upset he was being drawn into the matter, when he’d rather ignore it.

“I don’t know, to be honest, like. We all get foolish about women, at times, don’t we? Maybe we just like... Don’t mention it? Less’n we’re asked, o’course. Then we have to be on with the truth, but until then?”

The Prince snorted.

“Agreed. We won’t speak on this, unless asked about it. Otherwise, that man will probably die. We should leave early, if possible.”

That was fine with Anders, of course. They’d been doing that anyway. Still, he prepared extra, for the morning, so he wouldn’t have to start a second fire, allowing them to leave about an hour earlier. Before anyone could come and find them, to apologize or something like that which would give them away to the Duke.

The man made that part a little difficult, seeming almost to dither in the morning, with both Anders and Erold pushing to get on the road. A thing he noticed, his face going sly.

“Is there a problem here? You went into town for a long-time last night, Anders... Did something happen?”

He was about to lie, to save a life, when Erold spoke instead.

“There was a small house that needed to be rebuilt. It was a lot more work than it sounded like at first, and Anders rather impressed the widow woman and her daughter. I think he’s trying to avoid being married before the end of the day. The woman really did seem grateful, after all. It was a mistake, only making a new home for her...”

The Duke laughed, his face suddenly pleasant.

“Ah, that makes sense then. Well, we can go now, I suppose, as soon as everyone is ready. Who’s doing the road work today?”

Anders looked around, and noticed Salina looking their way, having heard.

“Salina? Are you planning on doing the road today?” It was fine with him if she wasn’t, of course. She wasn’t truly there to slave away each day, not that the effort would harm her at all.

She didn’t even make a face at the idea.

“That was my plan, if that works for you, Prince Anders?”

“Perfect! I’ll see to the food then, for you. Who is going to be watching for us? Javina did it yesterday...” He didn’t look at Erold, which was a good thing, since Mathia, seeming worried, straightened.

“It’s not my strongest skill, but I can try it? Is that...”

“That works. From horseback, which will be harder. I’ll ride next to you, in case you need help, to make sure you don’t fall. It can really happen. I’ve done it, several times myself.” He honestly had, but no one there laughed about it.

Taking a deep breath, as if facing a daunting task, Princess Mathia shakily grinned at him.

“Thank you, Anders. Are we in the middle again?”

That was the right spot for someone riding in a trance, so he nodded, with Duke Lister calling out the order for the others.

“Princess Salina is in front, doing the road, Meric and Hollan, you’re with her, point guard. Gull and myself will take the back. Prince Erold, I’d like a roving circuit, from you. Pay special attention to the sides of the road.”

That was a good call, as it turned out. Anders wasn’t truly busy, after the first stop, since Mathia was learning not to fall out of the saddle as she used wizardry rather quickly. He had to grab her a few times, but she didn’t break her mental state at all, even then. He was also riding to the wagon with the food, a few times per hour, which was still holding out very well, and grabbing dried fruit, crackers and cheese for Salina. She wasn’t gasping at all, in her efforts, being very strong, as far as magic went. She still ate the food though, seeming hungry enough when he gave it to her.

She also drank water fairly freely, even if she didn’t seem too hot.

Erold being on the side of the road meant that he was able to raise his right hand in a fist and make the neck of a medium sized deer explode, about halfway through the day. They actually stopped, to bleed it, and did a quick butchering, so they could wrap it up, frozen, for later. Anders did that part, even if his skills that way still weren’t wonderful.

Fresh meat would be nice, for the evening meal. They’d been eating preserved, so far. He had some fresh things in the wagon, but those were mainly greens. He used some magic to collect some gosberries, which were nicely ripe and in season, the egg sized hairy green and tan fruit flying to him through the air in plentiful numbers. He also got some early apples that seemed fine, if not perfectly ripe, some fresh roots and greens. The work being done as they rode, taking things from the forest around them. It was the perfect time of year for it, in that area and they were far enough from people that, with a bit of care, he knew he wasn’t stealing from farms or gardens.

When they stopped, he still put up the new shelters, and in one case, an inn, since the spot was perfect for it, and he had a new phrase for it he’d wanted to check out. It took the right kind of environment, with a river or moving body of water near it, but it came into being with only one spell, over the course of thirty minutes. Complete with running water inside.

Duke Lister gave him a hard look. It wasn’t clear why until he spoke.

“Are we stopping for the night?”

Anders shook his head.

“No? There will be rain tomorrow, but we can keep going, now. Salina isn’t stressed or anything and we have several hours until the normal time for that. Unless you see need for it?”

That got him cuffed, gently, on the shoulder.

“I don’t, in fact. I just wasn’t expecting you to casually build a structure like this in the middle of the day. Good work. Let’s ride then!”

That night, when they got into place, the structure was built by Lissa. She had a bit of trouble with the water system, but instead of doing it for her, Anders had her do the work over again, explaining it slowly to her, and letting her do it all, until it was finished correctly. That clearly frustrated her a bit, but instead of lashing out, she sighed.

“I’m not that good, am I? At magic, I mean?”

He was taken aback by the words, which certainly weren’t true at all.

“You’re very good, in fact. Why would you think otherwise? Because it took a bit of practice to learn something you haven’t done before? That’s how everything works, you know that, right?”

She gave him a strange look then.

“Certainly, except that you did the same thing earlier, with a single spell, didn’t you? This took me... What, a hundred?”

“About that... Still, I made up a new spell component for it, the other night. You can do that, right? You have that one for clear glass, so you know how to do it. I need to learn that one, myself. Maybe tonight?”

She looked troubled for a moment then nodded.

“I should do buildings then, too? It hadn’t occurred to me, before this. I mean, how often will I really be doing that kind of thing?”

Anders didn’t know at all. Still, he tried to give her a thoughtful look, instead of a shrug.

“As often as you wish? Also, work out something finer for the road work? You’re doing that tomorrow, for the whole day. The more refined the spell, the better you know it, the less energy it takes. You’re strong in magic, but there’s no need to not do it the easy way. You know, the one that requires you to lose hours of sleep tonight, instead of being well rested in the morning?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, a bit snottily, then laughed.

“That sounds less than pleasant. I’ll do that. You really think I’m doing well?”

It was clear that she needed to be reassured, rather than her not understanding how far she’d come.

“Very much so, in fact! Which, of course, means that you’re just going to be pushed to do even more. That’s learning for you, though. Say, do you know when everyone plans to go back to Barquea? I didn’t ask, myself. I need to know, before I go around making new plans for everyone.”

The girl glanced at him, standing outside of the new inn, and sighed.

“We’re set to travel at the start of winter here. Just before that, so we don’t get stuck in the snows. Javina needs to marry Prince Daren, so she might be staying. I don’t know on that part, to be honest. Jasmin will be with her husband, but there’s no real reason for me or Salina to stay. Well, other than to learn more magic, if we can? I’d get into your new school, but I’m fairly certain that would take a spot from one of your people, so it can’t be allowed.”

She seemed a bit down about that part, for some reason.

He raised his eyebrows.

“We should put in for that, then? I’m nearly certain that we aren’t going to have hundreds of volunteers to begin with. If we can get even twenty in the first year, I’ll be well pleased. Of course, so far, it’s only lessons from myself and Demo Gull. I should try to get Depak Sona in on the effort, if I can. Hoatha...”

The girl looked around then, and leaned into him.

“Something is wrong there, Anders. He’s... Not right. I can’t explain it.”

He’d had the same feeling, and tried to come up with a reason for it.

“It’s probably his age, to be honest. What’s a person who’s over a thousand supposed to be like? I can’t even imagine, except that I’ve seen him. Lady Martya... You know that she’s Ganges as well, right? Hoatha? Ganges was his first name.”

The girl frowned at him.

“What? I don’t... No, I don’t understand.”

He nodded, even though he’d been certain things had been mentioned around the girl. That didn’t seem to have connected with her, for some reason, and might not have really taken place.

“Ganges the Great and Terrible was a wizard, which means roughly mage now, about fifteen hundred years ago. He tried to take over the world and nearly succeeded. No one has mentioned why he gave that up. He saw the error of his ways, perhaps? Anyway, Hoatha Eta is that man from long ago. In his own person. Lady Martya has a copy of Ganges in her mind. An old thing, from over a thousand years ago. It seems like she’s working to take over the world now. We’re trying to talk them out of it.”

The girl shook her head.

“Oh. I... knew that... I must have forgotten.” Then, shaking her head again, she suddenly walked away. It was strange and a bit rude, but Anders simply went and started the meal for the day, not really thinking about it.

That idea, that Ganges was back, wasn’t a thing for a little girl to have to concern herself over. Truly, even he shouldn’t have to worry. Not over that. Lady Martya was fine, and even had been kind to him, for years. Hoatha was his oldest friend. Considering that, he grabbed some of the frozen meat, enough for everyone to have healthy portions, as well as the apples and some other ingredients. Greens as well, for health.

It was interesting, using the stone oven that the Princess had made, being a bit large for their needs, but he made bread, for that night and the next day, and several apple pies. He also portioned the beef into tiny slices, for easy eating. That was served along with sliced and lightly fried roots, and a small selection of greens, bitters and herbs that he’d gathered that day.

The food was humble enough, really, he thought. That, he knew was probably him showing the fine upbringing that he’d had, growing up in a castle. Farad had gone through much of his life with very few fine pies, made with sugar or other sweet things, for instance. The idea had existed, but it was a special treat. The kind of thing he’d enjoyed once every five to ten years. Now he made that sort of thing while they traveled, on the road.

Truly, he wasn’t serving what the castle would have, or the household of Sula Darian, but it was filling, wholesome and even if he had to lay claim to it himself, well done. The people of Goshberry wouldn’t be eating anything as fine that day, he had to believe. What they really would be having though, was a thing that Anders Brolly honestly didn’t know about.

Due to the fact that, while he’d never considered it much before, he’d been wealthy, his entire life. Privileged, in a way that was invisible to him, or had been.

Still, they had pies, and his work and effort had provided them, meaning he could take pride in them. They were well made, and flaky, as well, since he used some fresh butter for them, which was a thing he had about fifty pounds of, in a time sealed travel box.

It wasn’t until later, as everyone ate pleasantly that something occurred to him. It was a dark thought, and probably not true at all. Still, he waited for everyone, and as he cleaned up for the night, clearing the tables, he waved to Princess Lissa. She scampered over, seeming happy enough.

“You wish for me to help you clean? I barely know how, but if you show me what to do?”

He nodded. Extra hands were always welcome, after all.

“Oh, say, do you remember what I said about Ganges, earlier?”

She gave him a puzzled look then.

“Who? I...” Then, turning on her heel, the girl walked away directly, not saying anything more.

Chapter twenty-eight

The strange reaction from Lissa didn’t make any sense to Anders or Farad. They didn’t even internally argue the point, which still happened on occasion in regards to other topics. Anders, the boy, was feverishly attempting to work out why the girl would act that way, and simply couldn’t. The old man tried to step back and think, but also came up with nothing that would make her behave that way. Sometimes people forgot things, but Lissa wasn’t of weak mind, and managed to recall other things very well, most of the time.

Instead of telling anyone else about what had taken place, Anders went inside the inn that the youngest Princess had made, seeming to admire the work done. It wasn’t bad, though it was very close to what the rest of them had been putting up each day. The small details were different, of course. The front room that Lissa had constructed was a bit larger than anything else he’d seen, so far, by nearly half. The kitchen was smaller, being on the first floor, and the living quarters there, next to the kitchen space, was also rather cozy, comparatively.

When he went to pick a room, that was smaller as well. By counting doors, he found that there were six additional spaces per floor, for some reason. Which might be the correct thing to do, for all he knew. His guess was that the places could afford to be roomier, since they were remote enough that not that many would use them at any given time, but having things like that available might just increase travel, over time. A good road almost always did, after all.

Later in the evening, after the food had been prepared and consumed, he stood up and waved to get Princess Sweyn’s attention. The short haired girl, who was rather cute, thanks to the bristles on her head having grown well in the last year, giving her brown locks that touched her shoulders now, smiled at him.

“Anders! That was a good meal, for travel food. All of them have been so far. I haven’t had to eat a bowl of gruel at all, for instance. I can do it, but that truly isn’t my favorite food.”

He was actually fine enough with that kind of thing, but was used to a certain amount of variety in what he ate, being a bit spoiled that way. Still, he tossed off a small bow, almost playfully.

“Good! It’s one of the nice things about traveling in summer, we get to have some variety and fresh foods. Now... If you will, show me everything that you’ve learned about magic?”

The girl scowled a bit, then sighed.

“I’m not very good yet. I can do some things, but...”

She moved then, using hand signs first, pushing him hard enough to make him take a step back, but no more than that. When she shielded, she blocked things, but a few got through at times. The light she made that floated over her hand was bright enough, but not blinding at all.

When he looked at what she was doing, reading her form, rather than her mind, he understood the issue.

“Well! You’re doing everything correctly. Using about half your personal power that way. That... You’ll need to work on that part of things, by pushing yourself very hard, in everything you do.” The truth was that the woman was simply weak, magically. Perhaps the weakest person that he’d ever seen who had learned to use it.

Which, he realized, meant that she wasn’t actually gifted with that talent. Being one of the other types, instead. He’d thought, from everything he’d been told, that those other people couldn’t use magic at all. Instead, it seemed, possibly at least, that everyone could. They just weren’t strong enough to get the best results easily.

She frowned.

“I’d thought that I was just not good at it...”

He shook his head.

“That isn’t what’s happening. Here, make a light, like you did before?” That was produced with a hand sign, her third finger held down by her thumb. There was an imagined symbol as well, and a flow of power into the idea. A small, rather weak, light glowed fairly merrily over her fingers.

“Great! Now, that sense of tingling... Make it grow. Push more magic into the concept being used...”

That took about ten minutes for her to really do, and five more before she started to gasp from the effort. The glow was much stronger though, being at least twice what it had been.

“There! From now on, every day, practice things like this, for at least an hour. Push until you gasp and sweat from the effort. Starting tomorrow. Right now, I want to see the rest of what you can do. Add more power to each effort.”

That produced better effects and considering she’d been learning in the back of a moving box on the road, her grasp of things was actually rather good. That meant Princess Jasmin had been teaching her well, walking her through various memory techniques. Anders counted all of what she managed to do, and nodded.

“Great! In a few days you’ll need to begin doing the memory portions on your own each time. Then you’ll be able to move much faster. I still need to write up some books on that for everyone. To start with, have Jasmin go over everything in Magic for Princesses. She should have that memorized.”

That got the girl, who wasn’t that much older than he was, perhaps four years, to hug him.

“Wait... There’s a book called Magic for Princesses? That sounds rather specific.” She grinned, rather cutely, not letting him go for ten seconds or so.

He shrugged.

“It covers a lot in regards to clothing and such things. Some others as well, of course. Now, remember, an hour per day of the extra exercises! I expect you to double your ability to use magic over the next season. Minimum.” He didn’t know if that was possible at all, but being used to using power did make it seem easier. Aiming too low would just have her missing the target.

The woman didn’t seem upset by having to do more than others did, at all.

“I’ll do that, Master Anders. Thank you, for taking the time to see to me this way. I was worried that I was failing. Even now I can see what I need to work on. I can take this home and... Well, my people don’t have a lot of personal magic. We have the Devica... In Scara that’s... Slouagh, I think? The dark riders? Except that they aren’t bad. No more than people are, truly. We don’t have magic like this though, except for a very few people. A lot of that is illusion, for some reason.”

Anders blinked, having never heard the word in Modroc before.

It was, very nearly, the same thing that Duke Cohen had spoken of, in regards to his own abilities. devic, in that case. It was far too close linguistically to be random, but Yansian and Modroc were languages that didn’t have a common ancestor. Not one close enough for that kind of commonality.

He nodded.

“By nature that, or resistance to magic being used on you, are probably your strongest talents. Both could be useful, I wager. That means you’ll have to work harder to be strong in magic, but you might be able to resist a lot in magical combat.” He frowned.

She didn’t interrupt him, since it was clear he was thinking of something.

“I wonder if it’s possible to strengthen that talent, as well? That partial immunity to magic? I have no idea how to do that, but if other talents can be trained and made more powerful, why not that one?”

The words seemed to lose the Princess, who just looked at him, clearly trying to seem engaged. Also, not speaking, even to say she didn’t know the answer.

So he went on.

“We can work on all of this over the coming days, if you have time? For now, see to the exercises planned, please? I should... Oh! Say, did anyone tell you about Ganges?”

She frowned and then shook her head.

“No? That’s a name? From my part of the world, but I don’t know anyone named that, personally. No one spoke to me of that? Is it important?”

Anders nodded.

“A long time ago, over a thousand years and more than that, a man called Ganges the Great and Terrible, tried to take over the world, starting where the Red Desert is now.”

She pointed at him, excitedly.

“Oh, that Ganges! I know that story, of course. From my lessons as a child. He was a bit of a monster, wasn’t he?”

He had to agree with that.

“Indeed. Anyway, Hoatha Eta is that man. He also placed his mind into a crystal, at the height of his attempt to take over and that was, eventually, placed in the mind of Lady Martya. I think she’s originally from that part of the world. She changed her skin tone, hair and eyes to hide herself in Istlan. There was a magical crystal used for that?”

She didn’t turn and march away, at least, just tilting her head.

“That... Sounds like you are playing with me, Master Anders. Except that you are you and I’ve never seen you jest in a cruel fashion, or to confuse anyone in their perception of the world. Is this true?”

Taking a deep breath, he nodded.

“It is. I need you to try to recall it. In a day or two, I’ll ask again. There’s something going on with this, that I need to check. It’s a known thing, but... Well, best not to mention it, just yet.”

That seemed to be enough, to gain her aid.

He didn’t know who to seek out next, in his effort to check memories of certain things, but was presented with Prince Erold, the other boy seeming a bit anxious.

“Say, Anders, you were speaking to Sweyn?” He seemed to be nervous about something in that regard.

“I was. She’s a bit weak in magic, so far, so needs to push herself each day, for about an hour. Really, we should all be doing that, unless we’re already working hard at a real task. Making roads and inns will count for that. Still, she’s already doubled her power that way, so it’s worth trying. Why?”

The Prince shook his head.

“Nothing, truly. It’s simply that it’s the custom of noble women to take lovers, when they are with child, and no one can say anything against the practice, since they can’t get pregnant by another man then. I was wondering if she was planning such a thing with you.”

He blinked, and then shook his head.

“I... Do you remember about Farad?”

There was a strained look on the man’s face.

“That... The thing placed in your mind, by the traitor, Franken?”

“Yes, that. He had some trouble with women, being very shy that way. I’m a lot less so, by nature, but it’s made for some issues that way. So, no, Sweyn didn’t try to arrange such a thing with me and I haven’t been pressing her for that. Even if, you know, I probably should, being there’s that whole thing you mentioned, about her not being able to get pregnant right now. Great point, in fact. I just... It’s still difficult to move past things. I’ve worked on it a bit, in the past.” Lessons, with Princess Jasmin, though he didn’t mention the specifics.

Instead of pushing him, or punching him on the arms, Erold rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I mean, I don’t love it, but it’s the tradition...”

“Oh, you recall about Ganges, don’t you?”

He shook his head for a second, and then nodded, seeming as if something was affecting him, for a moment.

“Hoatha and Lady Martya? I was told not to think about that much, so have tried not to consider it. That’s rather big. What are we doing about that?”

“So far? Not much. I’ve simply noticed that some people are having problems recalling that it’s a thing at all. Well, one person. So, I’m going around checking everyone now. Good, that you recall all that. I need to go and talk to everyone else now.”

It was a bit awkward, having been asked if he was planning to have relations with Sweyn. Anders, the boy, was intrigued with the idea. Farad started to block the very idea and to focus on work, instead, then stopped. Their life couldn’t be led by him in that fashion.

So he let go of his resistance and took a deep breath, then walked away, with a wave.

After that, he tried talking to Duke Lister, who was well up on Ganges and Lady Martya, and recalled it well, then Javina and Jasmin. Both of them, approached together, simply turned and left him standing there, after clearly not recalling who Ganges was at all.

He read their minds, a bit brutally, without permission, as it happened. They weren’t trying to be rude or anything. Both of them had simply forgotten that they were speaking to Anders, and had a strong feeling that they needed to use the outhouse. It was an overwhelming sensation, but clearly coupled with a total lack of understanding that he was there at all.

Meaning it was magical in nature.

Princess Mathia couldn’t be approached until the next day. She was taking a turn making the road ahead of them, which she did with little real stress at all, even holding the spell set when they took breaks.

As she drank some water, seeming a bit warm, since the day was, he approached her.

“Anders! Thanks for feeding me. This is... Well, other than the mild gasping it’s not that bad. A bit boring, but simply riding is. My arm is going numb, from holding it up and pointing for hours.” She didn’t seem to be angry over that and was just commenting on it.

A thing he’d notice himself, several times.

“Eventually you get used to it. Say, did anyone tell you about Ganges?” He waited, watching her mind, but she simply wrinkled her nose.

“No. I had to find out for myself and ask Lady Martya to explain it to me. She did. She has another person in her head? Hoatha, in fact, and they’re both very old. Um, I was told that you had that as well? A different person, not Ganges...”

He simply lowered his head, since no one had used any magic on her in that regard, it was clear.

“Farad Ibn Istel. A historian from a long time ago. I just wanted to make certain you knew what was going on that way. We need to watch Martya and Hoatha, when we get back. Without starting a fight. I doubt we can beat them, so don’t make them angry. They seem to be trying to take over the world, still.”

Mathia just nodded.

“I was told that, as well. By Lady Martya? It’s ambitious, but not that odd. A lot of people try to do that. You took Yanse, which some would think was a step in that direction.”

Instead of defending his actions, Anders smiled.

“I can see that. Good work, on the road, by the way. We should be in Duchy Lister in another ten days, at this pace. From the map, that place is huge, so we have some days of travel after that, I think.”

It was slightly further to the border of the Duchy than it was to get to Yanse. The weather had been good so far, and they hadn’t lost any days to rains or storms. They were making incredible time though, covering twenty to thirty miles per day.

Closer to twenty, most days, but that was still fast, given that they were only moving at about three miles per hour. That was the best pace that the oxen were willing to bother with. Also, about as fast as they could improve the road without losing anyone to real exhaustion. Mathia, clearly, could have gone faster. So could Salina.

Anders had done that before, but it wasn’t a joyous activity, so he wasn’t insisting anyone push their pace.

After leaving Mathia, he covered everyone else on their memories of Ganges, mainly when they stopped to stretch their legs and get water, answer calls of nature and so forth. There was a pattern of sorts, when he addressed people. The Istlan nobles all recalled Ganges, when he asked again. Those of Barquea and Modroc, including Eltha Tenet, who had a very disciplined mind, were clearly affected by magic on the topic and couldn’t hold the idea in their heads at all.

When he tried the drivers, first mentioning the thing and asking them again, when they stopped for the night, all of the men forgot they were speaking to him and left to answer a sudden, extremely urgent, call of nature.

Which boggled his mind for a moment.

After all, it was just possible that Hoatha or Martya might have warped the minds of a few people using magic. Those from other lands, for some reason. Neither of them would have bothered to find the drivers and do that to them, however. Unless they were simply so complete in their plans that they did.

Anders had to check with others at that point, waiting until after the late meal and the cleanup, to sit in the small room of the inn that he’d called into being.

Then he sent a message to everyone that he had a connection to that way. Including a few people he feared he might well be hung for bothering with such things. Master Tolan recalled the whole tale, of course, as did King Mathias and Prince Robarts. Princess Peri, and Aisla suddenly both had to run to take care of natural matters on being asked about it.

Sula Darian did, as well.

The big, most terrifying thing was that Mary, the whore, and Corporal Derry the Army cook both had to do the same and forgot all about the fact that a voice had just spoken in their heads, repeating a fairly simple question, mere moments after it took place.

No one in Barquea could hold the idea in mind. Anders even created new words for specific servants there and contacted them, nearly at random. All of them had the very same response to the name Ganges.

Prince Alpert had no difficulty with it, but Daren and Jeld, people he’d already created new names for, and learn them deeply, couldn’t at all. After a while he even dared to try Tag Seness, and even Sulana Meegan.

None of them could hold things in mind at all. To all of them, Ganges was a mere myth, at the most. When he contacted Depak Sona, the man did the same thing, forgetting. The first time. Then Anders rewrote the message, telling the man to write things down, first thing, and to keep copying it. Then he put in a simple idea, repeating a hundred times.

“Hoatha is Ganges the Great and Terrible. Lady Martya is a copy of Ganges.”

Anders watched as Depak, rather desperately fighting to hold to his own mind, soiled himself, sitting in his room, focusing everything on first writing the message and then, using great levels of skill, breaking the magical hold on his mind. It was a struggle of hours to make happen. That worked, but didn’t correct things for anyone else at all.

That gave him a rough idea of how long the spell had existed, of course. Depak had been well aware of who his Father was, when last they’d spoken. So no more than two weeks prior. At least, as to when the magic started to work. That it could have been around for months or longer and only seen at that point was possible, though he wasn’t certain why it would be done that way.

Master Belford could keep it all in mind, without issue at all. Anders, finally working things out, drawing lines in his head, asked him only one other question, after then man indicated in his thoughts that he knew the whole tale.

“Is Master Tolan related to the royal line of Istlan?”

It was a thing that he’d never even thought to ask at all. The answer was telling, and fascinating. He had to read Belford’s mind, the man waking up to think about the question, having been in bed for the night by the time Anders got to him. The answer was a bit complex, but positive.

Anders spoke the whole thing out loud, to himself.

“Tolan is, originally, from the Isle of Morse. However, his family line is related to the royal family of Istlan, by blood. It was how he originally came to work at the castle. That and his great skill.”

Finally, Anders, not knowing if it was the right thing to do, sent a final message to everyone who could recall what was going on.

Almost everyone is being affected by magic to forget Ganges. Not the royal line of Istlan. Hide this, for now.

That probably wouldn’t fix anything, and Ganges might well be able to figure it out from their thoughts, but it was his duty to report such threats. It wasn’t as if he could handle it himself. He simply wasn’t up to the task. The idea that so many people, several entire lands, if not the whole world, could have their minds influenced at once like that...

Well, it was boggling, and also didn’t make much sense. If Ganges or Martya could do that, then they could simply make everyone decide that they were in charge and the world would be theirs, without a single drop of blood or even one battle, being required as a cost. Truly, if anyone could have influenced the minds of the entire world that way, even for a small period of time, say weeks or months, the entire thing could be taken, fairly easily.

How that sort of thing would be powered, Anders didn’t know. It would probably require blood magic to be done and a sacrifice of thousands or more. Tens of thousands. He didn’t know anything about that kind of thing having happened, outside of the battles that he’d fought recently, some month back.

“No.” It made sense, but he didn’t want it to be true.

That Hoatha, Ganges, had stood back and used the death he’d created to power a spell of such a nature, using him as a way to influence so many. Though, if he’d done that, to protect himself from the minds of others, there was no reason for him not to have simply taken over that way.

“Also, why not go after the King of Istlan that way? Even me?” Ganges had claimed to be his friend, but if he wanted to erase who he was, it seemed to be sensible to do it with everyone.

There was simply too much that he didn’t know, so, hoping it wasn’t a sign of some kind of magic influencing him, he let go of the idea and made a point of getting some sleep. That didn’t come easily, so as the sun rose, he got himself up for the day, and focused only on what he was doing. To that end he pushed himself, making the road, and a new building, with furnishings, at every stop. Without letting that slow them down as far as travel pace or time.

The new inn had been put up near a large, but not giant, lake. There were some large pink birds in it, which all seemed to be perfectly happy to stand in the shallows, watching them. They did that even while a magical construction came into being. That was pretty brave. Anders doubted he would have stood there and watched if a giant bird came and suddenly started doing things like that. Prince Erold did the work on that, it being his turn, so Anders caught some fish, for their meal. That, roots, bread and berries with sugar was the plan for the evening, and it turned out well enough for him not to feel too poorly about.

Better than just that, of course, since he was focusing on the task, with total devotion. Making himself not think about anything other than what he was doing. When that was over, he put on a small show, involving illusions. In the front room of the inn, which was transformed into a vast outdoor scene, with dancing animals. There was music as well. A light and lilting thing. There was no story to it, simply a passing of days, and a scene that followed with the tonality of whatever was playing at the moment. It was hard to do, but when people tried to touch things, he cast spells to make it feel as if it were all real. He failed a dozen times, trying to make that take place, but it was enough that Eltha came to him, when it was over.

“Incredible! I felt the breeze on my face and the falling of raindrops. You did that using magician skills? I need to learn that!”

Smiling, he nodded at the illusionist from Modroc.

“You already are. Really, if we set up the spells correctly, we should be able to do a much better job than this. I was just making this up as I went along. Perhaps different types of resistance where a person tried to touch anything? That would be complex, but...” He shook his head. “That would work, but it will be nearly as complex as anything I’ve ever tried to do. Let me work on this for a bit?”

That got him glared at, as if he’d said the wrong thing.

“Do that. Then stand ready to travel to Modroc with us when we go, in a few months? Only, no, you have that school to run. A valid thing, clearly. I’ll ask after what to do that way, with Duma Sett, when we return to the castle.”

Anders smiled, and then ignored the idea. He wasn’t planning to travel again soon, after the trip he was on was over. He might not get a choice, but if that was the case, he needed the new school to have a full staff of able instructors, before he left. Instead, he gathered some paper and a few pens, some ink and drying sand and started to work out the new system of illusions that could be felt as if real. After a while he started over, realizing that what he needed was simpler than he’d been thinking. Instead of a million names for things, each coming frantically as they were about to be touched, he simply needed seven. One that would be built into every illusion he made, and a few others to reduce the energy needed, affecting only the point of contact.

After all, when he imagined an image, his mind already put in all the needed information. How it felt, smelled and sounded when struck. He could use a single spell to do all of those things, because he already put all the information into place, each time. Every memory contained all of those things, after all.

It took him hours to learn the ten new things he needed, but he got some sleep and by the time they were on the road, after having eaten bread and fruit for their morning meals, he practiced casting illusions with the new system, every time they stopped.

Which had Eltha over by him on the second stop, when she noticed him bothering to practice her skills.

He made a small ball, and tossed it to her. It looked real, and she gasped when she took it from the air.

“It’s real?” She tried to squeeze it, which called on his power to resist the move, but not too much.

“I worked out what we were talking about. Here, let me...” He stopped, the magician’s component already active, until dismissed, and created a small scene for her. The world around them turned into the inside of one of the inns, in appearance. Eltha tested it, touching everything and even sitting, suddenly, trying to catch him off guard.

“This is amazing. I can learn this?”

He grinned then.

“I wrote out everything you need for it, even. Here, let me get that for you. It’s only ten separate components. That will give you weight, texture, sounds, scents, clinging sensations and friction. Wait...”

He jogged to Brownie, who was holding his travel pack and goods. The girl horse snuffled him a bit as he worked, so he stopped, once he had the folded papers, and patted her.

“Good girl. I’ll be back in a moment. Have a bit more water? I’ll try to find some ripe apples for you, later.” She didn’t answer, but horses never truly did.

They did like apples, though.

Again, each time they stopped, Anders built something, after that. A small hut, a larger place by the stream for people and animals to rest, and in one case, where there was water flowing underground, not too deep, a fountain that used the force of the flowing water to bring it to the surface, constantly. He formed a small, multi-level pool, so that everyone could get a drink. It should, he hoped, keep working for a long while. It might not, but for the time being it should allow passersby to have some water, if they wanted.

His efforts to keep his mind off of things led to the others, most of them, working on similar projects, several times during the day. True, Sweyn was mainly making herself new outfits, but she was pushing herself, both in how complex her work was, and how fast she did it, each time. That meant breathing hard, and sweating, but she did it without complaint.

Prince Erold worked out how to improve the forest, clearing dead wood and making stacks of it along the roadside as they went, for people to use. Princess Mathia took to making little huts for it, so that it wouldn’t all get damp in the rain.

Not all of the effort was needed, or even useful, such as carvings being placed into rocks in various places, by Princess Lissa and her sister Javina, but it was attractive and gave the otherwise empty area a sense of being rather wealthy, for some reason.

Doing things like that filled their days, until they finally reached Duchy Lister. Then they still worked as they moved, but were far more helpful to the people in the area than they had been before. After all, the new Duke was there to aid people. They were mainly farmers, but every place they passed had a new house on it, and often a barn as well. Wells were put in, when needed, so that they’d have year round water without trudging to far-off streams.

There were no cities, properly speaking, but the two largest towns were improved enough that they could pass as that sort of thing, if they ever had more people living there.

After the rather grand castles, both of them, were put up, which took three full workdays, even if they weren’t that large, compared to what King Mathias had, Anders knew that he needed to keep busy. Not just for his own desire to be useful, but also to keep his mind off of the Ganges issue. To that end, he decided to push into some road building, as he’d promised.

Chapter twenty-nine

The Duke, large, muscular and more than a bit intimidating, smiled down at Anders, as he stood in front of him, ready to ride out on Brownie, with Chestnut tied off to the other horse’s saddle already. She had a loaded pack on her back, with all of his travel gear carefully tucked away inside the canvas and leather. She was also carrying her own saddle, just in case she needed to be ridden for some reason.

“Going somewhere, Anders?” The voice was pleasant and not even accusing, for some reason. Anders didn’t feel bad or guilty about his plans, but was intelligent enough to realize he’d been well and truly caught sneaking away.

Still, he smiled back and nodded, as if he had every right to ride out without letting anyone know where he was going.

“The plan is to head north and east of here. To Ferlith? I’m heading that way to see about collecting an instructor for the new college, anyway, so plan to use that as an excuse to open the roads up. They won’t link to Dora, so shouldn’t put anyone at risk from attack in that direction. No more than already exists.” Any Doran forces dropping down far enough to use such an improved path would find themselves already fighting, after all.

Instead of growling about how Anders was needed there, or too young to travel alone, the man simply nodded.

“Ah? That sounds like a good use of time. You should take Prince Erold with you. He’s good in a fight, and can help work on camp chores. Maybe even take a turn or two in road building? Not that I’m giving you an order, Sir Brolly. Forcing him to stay here won’t aid him much, though. Really, we could send some of the Princesses, except that I really don’t want to risk any of them to your wiles.”

That he had those, wiles, was clearly a jest, even as the fellow didn’t bother to so much as lift the corner of a lip over the idea. Instead of denying it, he winked.

“I’ll ask if he wants to go? He might want to rest for a bit. We all pushed decently hard, getting here, after all. We can do that, though. I have no reason for going in alone. Not on this one.” The last trip he’d taken like that had been almost certain to end in his death. This time, he was really just going to see what was there, and make certain no one in Ferlith was planning anything against them. Even that probably wasn’t going to be needed.

Grandfather Snow, as related by Duke Cohen, sounded both strong and as if he truly wasn’t a threat, to anyone who didn’t create an issue for him. True, a lot of the language the man had used before dying had been meant to prevent attack on the Duke’s instructor, but that was a good thing, in Anders’ book. It meant that, whoever this man was, he was regarded well enough by Cohen to seek to protect him, even as he died.

Though, Anders had to figure that simply riding up to a kingdom and demanding to see anyone, probably wouldn’t work. Hence making certain he had a real reason to travel in that direction. Making the roads better. That way, if no one would see him on the other end, there would at least be something useful to show for his time spent.

The former guard captain smiled again. It seemed more or less real.

“Very well. When are you planning to be back?”

That was a thing that Anders didn’t know at all. He tried to guess, based on the fact that he didn’t want to be that far north when winter came. For one thing, he had a school to get ready and students to attempt to recruit, before winter.

“Call it ten days going out? Five to look around and seven back, so... twenty-two? Possibly less than that, really. I’m only planning to do the main road between here and there, this time. Then I’ll have to head right back to Istlan, for work.”

The man swatted his arm then.

“Understood. You have everything you need for such a trip?”

He tilted his head then.

“It could be a bit lean, if we aren’t lucky in hunting and gathering food. I should find Prince Erold?”

That, it turned out, wasn’t needed at all, since the very man came riding up, on his own horse, leading a spare, with a pack that seemed to be similarly filled with items as Ander’s own. He had a hard look on his face, glared at the Duke and then narrowed his eyes at Anders.

“I don’t know where you’re going, but...”

Anders smiled.

“The plan is for us, both of us, to improve the road going to Ferlith. There’s a bit more, but nothing really important. I’ll go over that when we take a break, later? I was just about to go and ask if you wanted to come.”

The Duke grinned then.

“Which sounds like a way to placate you, but he actually was doing just that. You should be back in just over twenty-two days? We have some local guard here, but I don’t know if we can invade a kingdom to save you, so, clearly, if you get into trouble, get yourselves out.”

Anders knew that one, so agreed, readily.

“I’ll be in touch, if that’s allowed? Using magic? Every few days, in the evenings? More if we have anything more to share than telling about how the road work went well.”

“Do it.”

The Duke waved and walked away, with Prince Erold seeming baffled as they started to ride off. This time the road work needed to be started at the castle’s outer wall. That, the wall around the whole compound, wasn’t that large, really. Tall, and thick, but the space it enclosed was only about a quarter that of what King Mathias had for his castle. That wasn’t done on accident or to prevent false pride, either. Just as there were two castles inside the space, both incredible to look at and very well decorated, both of them were small. The wall was about the fact that Duke Lister simply didn’t have that many men under arms, as of yet. There was a barracks for them, and he’d hired a few men at arms from the local area, but they were, more or less, farm boys who had their grandfather’s half rusted armor from five wars before.

In at least one or two cases, that had been literal.

Muttering for about a minute, Anders pointed at the road and tapped Brownie with his heels, very gently. She wasn’t the kind of horse that had to be pushed to do her basic task. Since they had four war horses with them and none were too heavily loaded, they moved at a decent walking pace. That was nearly five miles per hour, which was a bit of a stress to Anders, but not so much he couldn’t keep up with the workload.

Two hours later, having eaten twice, Erold giving him some bread and cheese, they stopped to get some water, by a small stream. Without being asked, the Prince made a small structure, using a specific phrase that Anders didn’t know, to build it. A thing that he’d taught himself.

That was a cheery thing to see, so he nodded at the effort, when it was done.

“This is going well, so far. Let’s see if I can keep this pace up?” It turned out that he could, though they did stop after ten hours of riding, which was probably too much for the horses to have to do each day.

When they stopped, Erold built an inn, complete with water inside and a small stable out back, even if it was only for the two of them, and Anders poked around to see if there was anything to hunt. That, it turned out, was a problem.

Not because there were no animals. There were many of them, no wars having been fought in that area recently meant that the creatures living there hadn’t been killed for food by tens of thousands of hungry men.

No, there were many animals to use for food. The issue was that they could only carry so much of it. Anders had to pass by all the deer, elk and the single moose that practically begged him to kill them, and ended up with several masked raccoons, instead. They were large, and not his favorite kind of meat, but the three animals he caught, once cleaned and boned would allow them to freeze and more importantly, carry, meat to last several days.

He also collected greens, ripe apples and some honey. Not much of any of that, since he couldn’t really carry hundreds of pounds of things. As it was, the sticky honeycomb had to be tucked into his small pot, the lid tied on, to keep his gear clean.

Erold got wood in, but instead of sitting in the front room to eat, they just used a small table in the kitchen. There were also beds, which had to be created using materials from the forest around them. It was mainly pine trees, but that, it turned out, worked well for the types of things they were used to making for the inns.

They didn’t talk much, since they’d been together all day, but when they did it was Anders who pointed things out.

“We need to go a bit slower. It’s bad for the horses to push them too far each day. Plus, we have no need to rush, right now.”

There was a dark seeming chuckle at the words.

“So, when it’s my turn we get to go slower? I can’t say I was looking forward to driving a road as hard as you did today. I tend to breathe hard even doing it slowly. Princess Salina is strong that way, isn’t she? Princess Lissa, too.”

“Yes. Mathia is like that as well. Women are often stronger that way than men are. The only reason Sweyn isn’t, I think, is that she’s technically more powerful in dealing with dark entities. Riders? Her people seem to be that way, as a rule. I’d thought that meant those people couldn’t learn magic at all, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. She’s gotten stronger, as well, doing daily exercises. That means you can, too. It probably means that we all need to learn more about the other kinds of magic, as well.”

There was a slow nod then, from the Prince.

“Like necromancy and... Illusion?”

That wasn’t what he meant, but he nodded anyway.

“Those, but I mean things like resistance to magic. That is probably just a different kind of magic, rather than being dead to everything on a magical level. Moving a tree or rock isn’t harder than anything else, but killing animals often is. That could be about them organizing magical energy in a specific pattern. I don’t know that, but it’s the next thing I want to look into. Blood magicians can sacrifice animals to power spells, which means they have magic, on some level.” It was in the old texts that he had memorized on the topic.

Neither of them said anything for some time, Anders at least thinking about the ideas he’d been putting forward. Especially the idea that there might have been areas of magic that he simply hadn’t learned anything about, even in passing. It was really due to Duke Cohen and what he’d said on the subject of Riders. How they could learn skills, taught by the person ridden. How they could be welcomed, but also released, by the man or woman involved.

Depak had made it sound like the entities simply grabbed people and more or less did whatever they wanted. Cohen had made it seem more like they were friends. Companions that aided, instead of dark things that invaded and took.

Then, Depak, while a powerful magician and now a decent wizard, had focused his efforts in other areas his entire life. Indeed, while they had knowledge of the Slough in the southern lands, Farad had never even read of such things being used with the facility that Duke Cohen had shown at all. Nothing even close to that.

After a long while, Prince Erold sighed.

“I’m not really suited to magic, am I? I like to think that I’m clever and intelligent enough, but so many are more powerful than I am. Better learned and more capable of thought on the topic, as well.”

The words were slightly bleak, so, given the nature of their relationship, Anders snorted and grinned. It was a bit playful and a tiny bit mean. Worse, or better, it was meant to be.

“Oh, certainly. You’ve learned more of magic in a few months than most learn in a lifetime and call yourself lacking, because a few are stronger than you are. That or have gone first, so have a bit of practice more than you do? That seems correct. Best give over and never do anything, because someone else will always be better than you are.” He didn’t mean it, and wasn’t shocked when Erold moved over to him and pushed his arm rather firmly.

The Prince’s face was hard then.

“That wasn’t my point. I’m just used to being the best at things. Maybe not truly the top, but when I took lessons, I did well. At least I was told I was doing so. What if everyone lied to me? Told me that I was worthy, special, when I was merely the same as most?”

Instead of carrying on with the teasing, Anders stopped and thought about what his friend truly meant. It was, after all, very probable that tutors and even friends could have treated him rather carefully, since he was, like it or not, a Prince of Istlan.

“I see your point. In that case, you should redouble your efforts to learn magic. I won’t lie to you, if you aren’t doing well, after all. The thing there is that you really are doing pretty well. There is room to do more, if you wish, of course. Look at Princess Salina. She’s learning to be Barquea’s new Great One. That... It started out as a jest. Even Depak Sona was looking at it that way, at first. Then she started to do the work and that means it’s honestly being treated as if it’s a serious matter now.”

The Prince made a face at Anders then. It was a bit dark.

“But she started out very strong.”

He let his head bounce a bit, and glanced around the kitchen space. It looked like stone, a fire still burning in the bottom of the oven.

“You’re as strong as I am, in magic, you know that, don’t you? I’m not going to let the fact that someone is greater in power stop me from learning. Daren is very good, and is one of the weaker people I’ve seen that way, so far. So, you aren’t starting out at the very top, but... Why does that matter? Do you think that where you start from is the only factor in where you end up? I... Well, I guess I can see it. You started out as a Prince. You worked, but as you mentioned, you were never forced to work hard. Not until you went to war and everything was suddenly life and death. Or, now, when you’re on the road, actually working each day, instead of sitting in meetings or making babies with your pretty wife.”

The words didn’t seem to give the boy relief, but he did wave a bit, and seemed to relax a little.

“That’s a real problem. What if I’m not good enough to succeed, if I’m just standing on my own?”

“Then you’ll fail? I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen, if you do the work and keep trying as you have been, but it’s always a real risk, for most people. Everything is. If a farmer raises a new cow, it could die or be stolen. If a cooper tries to make a new type of barrel, he loses time from making the ones he knows will work. Really, it’s that way, even for you, a noble Prince. You simply have less of a chance of dying if you ever miss your mark. Unless things go very wrong, of course. Then you might well fall even if it isn’t your fault. Like the relatives of King Yarler.”

The Prince swallowed then, his face bleak.

“I should have found a way to save them. That was... I think I may be evil, allowing that to happen.”

Instead of saying that he was naturally good, Anders sighed.

“I feel the same way. Even as Yarler died, I knew that wasn’t going to be a good thing. I can only take solace in the idea that he pressed my hand, so had to die.”

Prince Erold nodded then.

“Yes, saying he was going to rape and torture me was the wrong move on his part. Then pulling a knife on top of that... Thank you, by the way, for defending me. I didn’t mention it before. We were both too close to the battles then. If he hadn’t attacked, he still would have died for saying that, you know that, don’t you?”

Anders hadn’t really, but he nodded at the idea, since it made some sense, now.

Then, looking away, Prince Erold spoke, rather softly.

“I wonder, though, about all those people who ran away, into the night? The councilors and servants. Do you think they’ll be back? I know of those you removed, who plotted to kill Alpert. You told me about that. Did you do the same for the others? All of them, I mean? There were dozens...”

He could have lied about it, and was willing to, but there didn’t seem to be a real point to that.

“It shames me, but I did. No one will ever find more than ashes, buried well in the ground. It becomes easier, at times, to simply remove a problem than to deal with it in other ways. I’ve killed so many that it’s harmed my mind, I fear. That’s one reason why I can’t rule anything or anyone. What might I do, if given too much power?”

The other boy, his blond hair perfect, even if they’d been on the road all day, bowed a bit, in his wooden chair, by the kitchen window.

“What might you do? What is needed, I’d have to wager. Now, instead of me sitting here and complaining that I’m too weak in magic, I should do something... Make some furnishings of note for this place, perhaps? Something a bit nicer than what we’ve been doing.”

That was how they spent their evening, until it was time to sleep. Anders checked the horses first, but they were fine, eating a bit of grass that he called for them, out of the forest. It wasn’t a simple thing to do, but for four horses wasn’t brutally hard, either.

They had a full trough of water, and were locked inside the stone barn, safely, for the night.

The next day was a repeat of the first, only a bit slower and with the magical roles reversed. They didn’t find any towns, though they did, eventually, near evening, pass by a tiny village. The people there didn’t rush out to meet them, even as a new inn grew, next to the new road for someone to use later, if it was needed.

The days passed after that, broken up only with sleep, occasional new spells being learned or dreamed up and more hunting. Without meaning to, they pushed a bit, which meant Anders was actually shocked when they entered Ferlith, proper. Indeed, they were in the mountains for days, winding the new road through, actually taking stone from the sides of the outcroppings in places to clear the way.

Then they rounded a single bend, and found their destination, laid out in front of them. Suddenly and without warning.

A great city, the likes of which Anders had never even imagined. It wasn’t far off, either. There, not a tenth of a mile in front of them was a grand, golden, wall. In the distance he could see down, into the city, showing it as being a thriving, wealthy looking place, at least from a distance. There were many towers, and brightly clothed people in the streets.

Blinking, several times, Anders laughed.

“I think we came in by the back way.” Indeed, they were on what was probably a goat path, that had become a full road, behind them. Instead of stopping, he simply rode on, moving slowly, in case they wanted to stop him before he got to the wall.

Making a full road was, after all, clearly visible and even if not impressive to these people, who were obviously wealthy, it showed that something unusual was going on.

No one came out, until they were almost to the grand gate of the place. That seemed to be made of solid gold, with a rather impressive design inlaid into it. Instead of ten guards, with blades bare and stern eyes coming out to greet them, there was only a single man doing it instead.

The man’s face was fine enough, if brown for the part of the world they were in. A dusky tan, faded from lack of the sun, but not the pale color that Anders was himself, by any means. More like what Ganges had going on, minus a bit of conditioning from having recently lived in a near desert.

His clothing was heavy, and seemed to be made of leather, with a bright red cloak and a thick green over shirt. The fellow didn’t seem youthful, looking to be about fifty years of age, but was very spry, perhaps even physically powerful, seeming. Thick with muscle that seemed off, of course. Truly, while short, being no taller than Anders was, the man seemed to be muscled like a warrior of note might be. His hair was a blond so light that it clearly was the reason for the name he was using. It wasn’t the white of age, being off of that by some shades, toward a very soft yellow.

Instead of speaking, leaving the door to the place open, showing that no one else was there to attack or fight them, the man smiled. It was a peaceful seeming thing. Kind and most likely polite.

When he spoke, the words were in something near Doran, which Anders didn’t speak at all, yet. Instead, he dismounted and bowed.

Then he spoke in Istlan.

“Sorry, I don’t know your language here yet. We probably know something in common.” He was ready to use all of the languages he knew, but had a very good idea of at least one that the other man was going to know, of course.

Surprisingly, the fit looking older man bowed, using a very good version of first courtly.

“We do, indeed have a common tongue then! I noticed that someone was doing magic out here... This is a rather fine path you’ve left for us! Coming from Istlan? That’s polite of you. Would you like to come in? Perhaps refresh yourselves after your efforts? This has the feeling of personal magic, which can take a toll in its use. No use of... Darker things, either. Impressive.”

Anders stood up, allowing the other man to do the same and noticed Prince Erold doing that as well.

“I’m Anders Brolly, this is Erold Caldas. You’re known here as Grandfather Snow?” It wasn’t much of a guess. Not having seen the other man’s face. He’d had to fall into a trance, to prevent passing out from the shock, but wasn’t surprised when the man simply smiled, rather beatifically.

“I am called that, at times. It’s a bit rude, don’t you think? Then, half the people in here are related to me. Indeed, Caldas, out of Istlan? We might be related as well. I was, once upon a time, the King there, after all.”

Erold seemed ready to take offense at the claim, but Anders bowed again, using second courtly.

“I see. It would be wonderful, to speak with you, if we may? We have some news. A man, Duke Cohen, mentioned you to us, before he took his own life. Poison. He’d been left blind, in a fight, and was abused by a servant, in an untoward fashion, in the days after his defeat. I managed to save that man, Len, when he was poisoned. His mind is gone now, from the damage. Another two had been hit with the drug, but they made a full recovery. A Baron and his daughter.”

Grandfather Snow made a slightly hard face then.

“I have heard of this, of course. Alder told me. Duke Cohen? He returned here after his outer body died. Have you come to do battle then?”

Erold started to summon energy, to fight, but Anders waved that action away.

“Not at all. Cohen mentioned his training here in a rather positive fashion and I was hoping to entreat you to come and teach at the grand College of Istlan? A school of magic. At least it will be if I can get anyone to help me instruct the students. The building is decently nice? We have backing from the King. King Mathias. Erold’s father. We know nothing about the devic, as a magical skill. Until recently the people there were quite afraid of magic, for some reason.”

There was a sad face, for a few moments, but the man rallied and waved for them to follow along with him.

“This way. We can speak at my home. It isn’t that grand, but I don’t need much. I used to live in a cave, in the hills here, until about fifty years ago. Now, you want me to move, to teach in a school? That’s different! What subjects would you wish for me to go over?”

They all walked, the horses being led, into the city. The door closed behind them, with a flare of power. From an unseen being that stood beside it, glowing for a moment, in a pale green. The stones of the street were carved and seemed real, instead of placed by magic. To the left there was a small hill, which Grandfather Snow headed up, rather directly.

Speaking in a conversational tone, looking around, both at the splendor of the place and for possible attack. Nothing seemed to be arranging itself for that, thankfully. That being the case, Anders went over what he wanted from the man.

“How to gain the friendship of entities, and such related skills? Possibly combat, if you desire to do so? Again, your capability there was spoken of very highly. Honestly, anything else you desire for people to know, as well. The focus is on magic, but anyone learning there will be required to serve in time of war, and spend some time each year doing good works for the people there. We’re putting in roads, like the one we made coming here. That’s planned for Istlan, but also Yanse, already. Possibly Barquea, on the southern continent. Modroc as well, if we can entreat them well enough. They aren’t strong in magic. Did you used to be the King there, as well? Modroc, I mean. Not Barquea. Obviously.”

Prince Erold gave him a very strange look then, and for a moment Anders wondered if he was being rude. Grandfather Snow however, merely smiled in his direction.

“You know, I was in charge there, about a thousand years ago or so. That’s a bit of a leap to make, isn’t it, Anders Brolly? Why would you assume that?”

He shrugged, and kept walking.

“Two things, mainly. The first is that the Modroc are very weak in magic. Not with the riders, though. They use those well in battle, or so I hear. Not as well as Duke Cohen did, however. So, you led them away from magic, and toward that, but learned more in regards to such things, later?”

The man didn’t even bother to frown, simply waving ahead.

“My place is right up there. Near the wall. That, what you guessed at, is not incorrect. Go on?”

Anders kept walking, the horses making heavy clanking sounds on the stones under their shoes. It was familiar, and calming to him.

“The other thing is that you’re wearing the same face that I had, in my first life. That of Farad Ibn Istel. I’d been told that I was the only copy to have been made from the crystal that Ganges had put on my forehead, as I lay dying.”

For the first time, the man seemed mildly shocked by something.

“Oh? I... Actually, had forgotten about that. I was healed directly after that, by Ganges. Returned to youth. There was a... Red crystal, now that you mention it. So, you’re riding this boy now? When did that take place?”

Prince Erold, who had been listening, cleared his throat.

“A moment, if it’s possible? I’m to understand that you, sir, are the man that Anders has in his head and that you were both the King of Istlan once and of Modroc?”

The man regarded the Prince with a slow smile.

“That would be hard to take in, hearing of it like this. That is all true, however. I’m a little over sixteen hundred years old. Many things can happen in that time frame. I’m called Far now, by those who don’t rudely call me Grandfather Snow...” There was a playful and gentle tone in the words.

Anders went on then.

“I was placed into Anders, merged with him, about a year and a half ago, in Istlan. I went south, and found Ganges there. Alive, much to my surprise. He told me that you’d died, some twenty years after I did. He was rather clear on that point.”

For the first time, there was a frown from the other man.

“Horses around to the left. I have a covered area for them. It isn’t big, but should work, for the day.” Still not seeming pleased, he walked them around the rather fine seeming stone building. That was gray, but seemed carved out of the side of the mountain itself.

“Now, Ganges told you I died? That was true. I drowned, in the river. I don’t suppose he mentioned what took place after that? How he brought me back to life?”

Instead of answering, Anders simply shook his head. After all, he hadn’t been informed about that at all.

Chapter thirty

Old Farad, the original version, asked them both in very politely, then made tea, which was served in tiny cups, on fine saucers, to catch any drips that might have come into being. He didn’t speak at all, other than to enquire after how they took their beverages, until their drinks were dark enough to sip at without wondering if anything had been put in it.

Anders, smiling a bit, checked his for poison anyway, using his mind. There was nothing there, that he could find. Erold did the same, then took a tentative sip as Farad looked at him, with a decent level of closeness.

“Do you wish sugar, or honey? I have some milk around here, someplace.” The man looked around, as if that would help him find that kind of thing. Which, wasn’t difficult for Anders to locate, using wizardry, it was on the low shelf like object that ran along the far wall. It was being preserved, but in a way that he simply didn’t understand.

Before he could ask after how it worked, the man started to speak, settling gently into a heavy wooden chair. It had pillows on it, as did all the seats there. Everything inside was brightly colored, claims of recent cave dwelling having been made or not.

Old Farad turned to look at him, his eyes narrowing, slightly.

“First... you defeated Alder in a fight? I don’t approve of his choice of methods, but it’s a rare man that can wake up in the dark, being attacked with a knife and survive, much less truly win the battle. He told me that facing you felt like going up against a true martial master, at the time.”

He felt slightly annoyed, but didn’t let that show. It could be what was wanted, after all. A thing asked only to throw him off his game, for the coming conversation.

“It wasn’t easy or simple. I woke up and flailed around well enough that I could call off a spell and make his eyes glow as brightly as the sun. That left him permanently blind. Then he rallied, after a time and called for a golem made of stone. I dashed hither and yon, until my friend and mentor, Depak Sona, could capture the... devic?” He knew the word, but checked to make certain he was using it correctly. The white-haired man dipped his head, once, indicating he had the right thing. “Then the stone stopped moving. We trapped the entity in a chicken, which we placed in a jar.”

The man winced then and held the strained look for some time.

“I... Understand. With the defeat of Alder, his friend would have continued to fight, if something wasn’t done. You might release him now? Let him know that it’s safe to return home, instead of being trapped like that? It isn’t healthy for them. Well, imagine being trapped in the dark for months or years. It is like that for them.”

Prince Erold took a sip of his tea, nodding.

“We just break the jar open and ask the being within to go back to his home? Won’t it be angered that Duke Cohen is gone? We didn’t kill him, but if someone did that to me and then claimed to be innocent of killing, say, Anders, I don’t know that I’d go peacefully.”

That was waved away, as if being of no consequence.

“Take Alder with you, and he can explain things? He isn’t upset with you, personally. Neither of you. That one man...Len, was it? I had to beg him not to go back to seek his revenge personally. With some reason, it seems, if a powerful devic can be trapped by your people. Depak Sona? Master Depak, but from the South, perhaps? I don’t know the name.”

Sipping his own drink, a bitter leaf that cleansed the palate, Anders took a deep breath.

“The Great One of Barquea. A former Sula there. Also, even if he didn’t know of it until recently, the son of Ganges. Before we go forward, you should know that both Ganges himself and a copy of him, Rothina, are in Istlan, at the castle there. They’re trying to take over the world. I’d hoped that, well...” He blushed, and looked away, since the former plans seemed so out of place, suddenly.

Erold spoke, his voice very calm and even.

“The hope was that Lady Martya, who has been watching us for seven or eight years, would be so entranced with the return of Farad Ibn Istel that she, and they, would both give up their plans. It doesn’t seem to be working that way.”

Waving, he tried to collect himself before speaking.

“That... Is about the plan. One that Ganges came up with, when I found him in my old home. At the hermitage? The inside is covered with carvings of us. Of you, specifically. A shrine to you, or so it seemed. Now, you have a story to share? Mine is, I have to think, less interesting than your own.”

The man looked across the slightly cluttered space, seeming to be thinking something, or falling into a trance, to recall it all.

“You say that, but I lived my tales, not yours. Anything you do will seem far more interesting, given that. Still, I can see the desire to know about what took place, while you were not there.”

He paused then, but only for a few moments.

“Ganges and I lived together, for twenty-two years, before my first real death. Things were good, for a long time. I... Am not a lover of men, by nature. Having grown over time, I see little harm in such things now, but I was a product of my upbringing and lacking such desires, I didn’t seek him out that way. Not for a long time. When I did, I felt wrong, doing that sort of thing. It made him happy, so I did it, when I could. Still, other than that, things were fine, between us. I worked, collecting histories, and tending the animals, as well as our small farm. Ganges grew in strength, over time, but eventually became dissatisfied with the powers he had collected for himself.”

The man stood, and began to pace, in a pattern that was familiar to Farad. A thing he used to do himself, when recalling the old tales in an informal setting.

“I noticed it starting, about fifteen years into our living together. There were small things at first. Frustrations at not having the personal power to make grand projects. A vast ocean like lake, or a small hollow mountain of a home. Things that no one truly needed at all. Grand things, but he refused to listen to common sense, or to work slowly, over a long period of time, even if he knew by then that the natural course of aging would never take him. He demanded everything be presented to him in that moment. A thing that grew worse, for a very long time.”

There was a loud swallow then, and a shuddering inhalation.

“I tried, so very hard, to dissuade him from the course he seemed inclined to take. All those texts, inside of him, told of how to gain power. Through the use of blood and death. Only, it’s obvious that even one life is worth more than a small fresh water ocean coming into being where nature doesn’t need it. So, we argued, occasionally, about what he should do that way. For a long time, years, I won out. Until one day I noticed the rains had made the river swell, and one of our goats was stuck on a floating log. I tried to get it back, but, alas, swimming wasn’t a skill of mine, so I drowned and died.”

He seemed to be ready to end the tale there, or at least be waiting for any questions that might be asked to be presented at that moment. Anders spoke, his voice soft.

“Ganges was off to town, to buy supplies?”

There was a smile then.

“Exactly right. So, he mentioned that much?”

“Only to that point and finding you. Then, not bringing you back, even though he could have, and going mad in his grief... Becoming a monster.”

Old Farad snorted, loudly and with a wry expression on his face.

“Oh? Was that his tale? Think, Anders Brolly, I was but one man. One admired by him, perhaps truly loved, but people move past the pain of loss and death, in time. We all do that. No man would go to war with the entire world for hundreds of years because of such a thing, would they? I say no. Then, Ganges didn’t leave me dead. You might have gathered that, since I’m sitting here at this moment.”

Both of the younger men nodded, though Anders spoke, after another soothing sip of tea. The thin cup was warm against his lip, though the interior of the house was cool, even in the warmth of the day outside.

“I’d wondered at that part of things. He’d always been a bit chatty and sought adventure, but he’d never seemed to be lost in tales of romance or such tales, in particular. The Ganges I knew was, I have to think, a different one than you did, by then.”

“True! There was much change in him after the use of that crystal. Anyway, after I drowned, I woke with a start, in our home, some two weeks later. Healed, whole and perfect. I was lost for the first days, not understanding what had been done. While dead, I’d become a devic, for a time, a powerful spirit, able to hold myself to this world, after death. A human one, unlike most, but I’d understood what had taken place. I had that gift, the ability to join with others, in life, and my meditations on memory had strengthened my being to a point where I lived on. Then, in an instant, I was pressed back into my flesh, which was healed and anchored inside of it. Much like your friend Depak did with that chicken, I have to imagine. It was at first, a fine thing, to me.”

Taking a single, rather slow breath, Anders closed his eyes.

“Until you found the pile of sacrificed people?”

“Heh. I found the crypt that had been made for them, and figured out why over a dozen people were dead, in a place that hadn’t existed even a few weeks prior, yes. All of them were young. Children, the oldest of whom was still small and not to the first blush of adulthood. I...”

He stopped then, and closed his eyes.

“It was the first time in my life that I truly tried to kill anyone. Ganges and I fought then, with, as you might imagine, myself being a historian by trade and him a wizard of renowned even then, me not doing very well. When I woke up, after being flung across our home in a blast of pure force, I cursed him.” The man finished his cup, and then set it down on the counter, on the far side of the narrow room they were in.

He paced for a while then, and finally shook himself, as if to break out of the cycle of memories.

“I wasn’t angry at being bested in a fight. I hadn’t even considered that I could have won, back then. Instead, I stood up, and told him that I would fight him, to the best of my ability, for as long as I lived. That he was a monster, for having murdered innocent children, just to have an old man back in their place. I recall saying something to the effect that even one of their lives was worth a hundred of his, and my own, not the other way around. Then, packing what I owned, I left.”

There was a long pause, and then Prince Erold spoke into the emptiness left hanging thickly between them all.

“You sought to fight him then?”

The man laughed.

“Of course not. I was vastly disappointed in him, a thing that nothing would, or has, ever fixed, but there wasn’t anything to fight against, back then. He was a great wizard, but not running around killing or harming anyone. Not that I heard of. No, I moved back to the hermitage, learned more of history and began to experiment with the devic, having been one of them for some days, myself. It gave me a small understanding of them, and I came to know them, to learn from them and after a time, to let them join with me and to send them off at my own command. This was all in the first fifty years after leaving Ganges. I held no real skill for magic, though I learned some, for my own defense. There were wars, in that time, and twice the brothers were attacked. To protect them, and myself, I learned what I could. I scoured texts on fighting, with weapons and with magic, and tried my best not to fail them. In the end, of course, I did. The third army was led by Ganges, who had moved a thousand miles away by that time. I like to think that even he would have left his old brothers alone, if he’d thought of them at all. His forces didn’t know to do that, so we were all killed. Except for me. I ran, on foot, into the night, being chased by ten thousand men. When daylight came, I stood, too tired to run any longer, and called upon my friends, the devic.”

No one said anything, so the man went on, after a lengthy pause, meant to affect their thoughts.

“That army didn’t survive, though it was far closer to my own demise than I care to admit. It was then, after that time, that I tried to hold Ganges back. I fought his armies and grew in power, both in magic and in ability to fight in my own person. At each turn I was pushed back, Ganges becoming ever more powerful. When he did, I struggled and slaved, finding some way to do the same, myself. This went on for over two hundred years. I held him to the southern continent after that, but it was a stalemate. I had to raise my own army, so I founded Modra, to the east and north. Ganges answered with Barqua, and introduced a love of his kind of magic to them. He claims to be a master of all forms of magic, but that isn’t strictly the truth. He is powerful, but his weakness is in the use of others power. Blood magic. I focused on other things. Skill and personal ability. Memory and practice. It is slower, but more reliable, over time. After all, great works are rare things, and lives are precious. Too much so to waste on tricks or to impress the masses.”

That was a thing that everyone there agreed with, of course. The kind of thing that generally didn’t have to be said. Except, that, Anders knew, part of him didn’t truly feel that way at all. Rather than mention that part of things, he waited, hoping to avoid the truth. His truth, at least.

Old Farad let his head play from side to side, in the way of a historian, thinking.

“There were wars, of course. The entire south was taken and our old home nearly destroyed and turned into a desert, over the course of a hundred and fifty years. Eventually, desperately, we pushed him back and held him, and his people, in place there. After a while, the wars stopped and Ganges didn’t seek to conquer. I had figured that wouldn’t last forever, and was correct. I moved then, out of that land, and headed to the great places to the east and north for a long time. I think it must have been over a hundred years. That, traveling by ocean was terrifying to me, at first. I learned to swim, before I did anything else, I assure you! While I was gone, Ganges recouped his forces, and came at the entire world, with an army of things called Lerna. They were devastating to behold. Shape changers that could scarcely be defeated in battle. The legends of dragons come from them, or at least some of their numbers.”

Erold frowned then. The old man gave him a pleasant look.

“Hard to believe, I know, but true, none the less! Such beings truly do exist in the world.”

The Prince shook his head.

“I know that they exist, there’s one of them, called Saffron, at my father’s castle. She was set first to help Yanse defeat us, but turned when Anders spoke to her, in her own tongue and then Ganges was there to give her guidance. She seemed fierce, but I didn’t think of dragons, truly, on looking at her.”

The man, Farad, simply closed his eyes.

“That sounds like a very dangerous situation for the people there. Anyway, working carefully, for a long time, I managed to strip his forces from him and convince people of various things to make his life harder. When I established Istlan, I forbade magic of any sort for one hundred years and claimed that whole time that it was of the dark and evil. I did something similar in Modra, which was what Modroc was called, back then, language shifting as it does, and over in Lidst, to the east over the vast sea. I was the King of Istlan for a while, then left that to my son. I think the line is unbroken? You don’t look much like me, but you wouldn’t after nine hundred years, would you?” He spoke directly to Erold, who tilted his head.

“I wouldn’t imagine so. Anders is also of that line. My brother, Alpert, is his father. There was a small disruption, so he couldn’t marry Anders’ mother. An alliance marriage with Barquea, in fact. Hoatha... That’s Ganges, if I have it right?” He looked at Anders, as if he might be wrong on that, as if it hadn’t been a constant thought for him or something.

“Indeed. Hoatha Eta. Former Sula of Barquea. That... The people there don’t seem evil or bad, in particular. Indeed, they were no worse than any I’ve met.” The idea was troubling, for a moment, until Old Farad simply agreed with him on that point.

“People are, as it turns out, merely people. Even Ganges isn’t... Well, I don’t know. Once, a long time ago, he was my best friend. Possibly more than just that. Now, after all that’s happened, I tend to think of him as a memory, more than anything else. That he’s come here, to my continent, well, he probably doesn’t know that I’m here. I’ve hidden away rather well, for a very long time. He might even assume me dead. I fought him, but we didn’t meet, to speak to one another, after our fight, all that time ago. That, dying, won’t happen easily for me, now.”

He seemed slightly annoyed by that fact, instead of proud of his powers.

Anders nodded.

“Ganges said something similar. That he didn’t fear what those of Istlan could do to him, so came along rather easily. I thought he was pretending to be brave, but he knows far more of magic than I do. I know, that sound simple to manage, what with my whole year and a season of practice, but still, he did some impressive things. I... I’m not certain, but I think he affected the minds of many people, to make them forget about him. It didn’t work on anyone of the King’s line, but...”

That was interesting enough for the old man, who didn’t seem that well aged, to wave at him.

“One moment? I should seek to research that. Allow me to...” He left the room, which, after about two minutes caused a low roar to enter into being. A growling that sounded bestial, but which faded before the man came back into the room.

“I asked some of my friends to look into that for us. It will take some time, since I asked for the entire world to be checked. Hours, at least. Now, where were we? Ah, yes...Anyone of the King’s line? That won’t be true, of course. Ganges probably spared anyone of your line, not realizing that it would impact me that way. To affect even a thousand or two thousand people should have nearly killed him, unless he had an outside source of power at the time.”

“No? My mother... She would be linked to me, wouldn’t she?”

The other man grinned then and shrugged.

“Are you certain she can’t recall things correctly?”

The answer to that was, clearly, no. Not without more research on his part.

Anders sighed. Then changed the subject a bit.

“Tens of thousands, dead in battle could potentially power such a spell, correct? At my hand, not his. Yanse declared war on us, so I...” He stopped then, looking away. Not wanting this particular man to know of the dark things he’d done.

Prince Erold spoke then, not seeming defensive or angry.

“We’re normally weak in battle, due to a lack of magic. Anders learned enough to defeat the best Yanse had to offer that way. Many died. The best guess is that half their army perished, with about sixty percent of those being credited to Anders directly. They simply fell to us, in our last campaign. I was there as well, as a war mage, as were several others. Princess Salina, the apprentice Great One of Barquea, two servants from Istlan, who proved themselves brave and mighty as well. Daren Willet and Jeld.” He stopped then and shook his head. “The thing there is that Hoatha Eta and Depak Eta both came along, providing support for us. They both offered to fight our battles for us, but Anders wouldn’t allow it. Seeking to protect them, I think?”

After stopping for several moments to think, he let his head sag to the side.

“There’s some truth in that. Mainly it was about showing that we had magic of our own, so that when they leave, we don’t appear weak again. Plus, both of them were in a war recently, with the Modroc. They won each battle, and Daren and myself created a river between the two lands, to slow down easy attack. They called things off after that, without much death being needed. Those fallen in battle seemed to weight most heavily on Depak.”

Farad looked worried then.

“But not Ganges?”

“I don’t know. He came along with us, and clearly paid attention to things, never shirking from a task, even teaching us new things, from time to time, but... He wasn’t as he once was.” Which could mean anything.

The man regarded both of them, closely for several moments. It was a probing thing, so intense that it almost held physical weight. As if it was possible to feel the drag of his gaze over the body, in some unknown manner.

“How about the rest of you? Did the weight of those deaths affect you two?”

Erold nodded, and seemed troubled.

“I’m haunted, in the night, by what I’ve done. A weakness, I’m certain. I see the faces of the men I killed, hanging in front of me, terror on their lips as they screamed and came at me. I wake most nights, soaked in sweat. Thankfully I’ve learned to handle that with magic, or people would think me to have taken to wetting my sheets, it’s so bad at times.”

That was a new thing to Anders, but he didn’t tease the Prince over it.

Instead, he spread his hands.

“I’m not that way, myself. I think it’s the more normal, better thing to have such dreams and thoughts. Killing shouldn’t be easy. For me it is. It seems that those who come from the crystals are like that. They have to be strong in magic and of a certain lack of humanity, by their nature. The kind who kill easily and often don’t feel fear as much as others?”

The old, real, version of Farad made a soft, low sound.

“They also have to be of the line of the person copied. I don’t know if Ganges ever caught on to that one. I didn’t let that out, since I never wanted fifty versions of him coming for me, to tell the truth. Even if he can’t kill me, I have friends and family living here. As I said, half of the people in Ferlith are related to me, in some way or another.”

He didn’t move for a long time, holding absolutely still. Anders, after a while, understood what had taken place. A faint green glow, a devic, was hovering by the white-haired man’s right ear. After a while it flited away, so fast that Anders couldn’t figure out where it had gone.

The fellow made a face.

“Yanse and Istlan both have no memory of Ganges, a spell preventing it. That does speak of a high, powerful, magic being used.”

Over the next hour the conversation ground to a halt, since green, blue and even red glowing beings kept entering the room, to speak to Farad. One of them tried to speak to Anders, by mistake, which was interesting, but hard for him to hear.

It was in Celdric, an ancient language that he had to fight to understand, barely recalling it, as well as being faint.

“In the north and east, over much water, there is a land, with the magic refusing... Ganges the Terrible, biter of worlds... Not allowed.”

Biter of worlds didn’t sound correct, but he understood the basic idea. They all did. Farad smiled at him after that.

“You understood all that? Excellent. Everyone, every person with a good mind, can learn all forms of magic. Working with devic as well as using personal energies to affect the world.”

Since there was nothing in the room with them again, the friends of the old man not staying to visit after delivering their messages, seeming shy instead of mysterious, flew away instantly. So he spoke of another topic.

“What about those who are resistant to magic? That seems to be a form of magic itself. Have you learned to work with that as well?”

The man froze again, then tilted his head.

“No? What do you mean? I know that some people have little magic, and are harder to harm with it, but that seems to be similar to animals. I have taught some such people to use magic and work with devic, however. They simply don’t have much by way of such ability.”

He shook his head, willing to argue the point, even if the other man was many years his senior.

“No, think... They weaken the effect of magic. Animals do that as well, but they aren’t affected like a rock or tree, they actually dampen such things. Only while alive. That seems to indicate it’s another magical talent. I haven’t studied it in people much, but it could be useful, if learned. A shield of sorts, without need of specific spells or devic to provide for you. Perhaps even made stronger, with practice or tricks being used?”

The other man snorted then and slapped his knee, smiling.

“Well! I hadn’t ever thought of that at all. I have seen those impacts, as well, so it isn’t just you seeing things that I haven’t. Very good! It’s rare now that I get to learn of a new idea. We need to test this. How do we go about that, do you think?”

That it turned out, wasn’t that difficult, to start with. First they needed to find volunteers with that sort of ability or trait, and then gently press them with magic, while observing what was going on, both with eyes and magic.

“Then, if we can find what’s going on, we can try different things until something in what happens changes. It might take a long while, of course.” Anders was thinking that it would be a good project to work on back at the college, but Old Farad simply went to his own door and started yelling. In Istlan, even if it wasn’t the language there.

“Vogal! Does anyone know where Vogal is? I could use his aid, if he wishes to give it today?”

There was no call sent up, but a man ran around the corner, his red hair and blue eyes reminding Anders of Page Walden, for some reason. The face was different enough, being strong looking and hard. The rest of him was as well. The man also had a rather sharp looking sword in his hand, and seemed ready to kill whoever was menacing Grandfather Snow.

He stopped though, when he saw who was there and spoke in whatever the Ferlin language was called. It truly did sound similar to that of Dora. A thing that he’d heard in passing a few times.

After a moment the man put the blade away and smiled. He spoke then, not in the language of Istlan, but rather that of Yanse.

“You want to poke me with magic? I can allow that, though I don’t understand the reason for it. I don’t have that kind of thing in great measure. Which is why I teach sword and other types of fighting, instead. What do I need to do?” To his credit, the man didn’t ask if it was going to hurt, or even injure him.

He bowed toward the man, who didn’t do it back, and then waved toward Erold.

“My friend, Erold, will hit you with some very light spells. Ones just powerful enough for you to notice. You’re resistant to such things?” That was the point, but he didn’t know the man. Not asking could lead to errors.

“Yah. Not that it helps me much. Then what? I call out if I can feel it?”

“That works. Would you mind if I watch what happens, while I use wizardry on you to try and trace it? I won’t be reading your mind or anything, without asking first.”

The large fellow, who was tall and broad at the same time, didn’t seem to find that as being too fearsome at all.

The instant Erold started tapping at him with small pushes, Anders could understand what was happening. He grinned, after a bit.

“Very good. Now, try tightening up your middle, on this next bit?”

That did nothing, but over the course of hours, with much trial and error, mainly error, the man was able to do much more than just blunt magic a bit. He could, in fact, cause a small area around himself where magic wouldn’t work at all.

Chapter thirty-one

One thing that Anders learned about Farad Ibn Istel, the original one, was that the man, once an idea caught his attention, didn’t like to let go of it at all. It was, in fact, only begrudgingly that he allowed them to sleep that night, instead of going over how to improve the new tricks they’d discovered. When Vogal simply left for the day, seeking his evening meal, Farad gave them a wistful expression.

“Ah, yes, food! I suppose we should eat, and probably rest, before continuing?” He gave them a hopeful expression, as if expecting them both to leave then, possibly in annoyance, instead of seeking for the new idea that was before them.

Prince Erold grinned, his tired face still seeming cheery, if a bit puffy.

“Those both sound like good ideas. We have some food, taken from hunting and gathering on the trail, so we won’t try the goodwill of your people or yourself, Sir.”

The words were waved at, which meant little to Anders. It was a thing he did, but seeing it done by someone else suddenly made him realized how unhelpful it truly was. He understood the man was indicating what had been said, but not his opinion on the topic.

Not until he spoke.

“It’s no hardship at all. This city is aided by our friends the devic and never wants for anything, due to that. Rarely. A few of the young men have to struggle to find women, I hear. That’s always been an issue in life, however and the devic won’t really aid with that. They can, of course but it doesn’t go well, when they do.” The man was being playful, but allowed Anders to run and get the stored meat they had, which was frozen, and the greens and roots he’d collected from the trail, as well as some berries from earlier in the day.

Then the older version of Farad did something that seemed off, and prepared it all. He used honey, sugar, cream and fine flours of two types, to create a wonderful pastry that seemed to melt in the mouth, with a flaked, fried and highly spiced meat filling. It was a thing that Anders had never seen the likes of before, but which, when eaten, impressed even Prince Erold.

Anders, knowing what kind of cooking the man had learned in his first life, sighed.

“You know, I’ve had some lessons in cooking and couldn’t match what you did here. I’m not certain that the Master of King Mathias’s kitchen could have, to be truthful.”

The white-haired man smiled then, taking the words as the praise they were supposed to be.

“One of the positive things about living a very long time... You have a chance to learn a great many things. Now, Anders, Erold... You both can repeat what Vogal was doing already, correct?”

They hadn’t tried it, but Anders screwed up his face and started to nod.

“I don’t know to what level, but I felt what he was doing, creating a sense of magical flow, inside of himself, circulating, instead of moving outward? You caught that as well, Erold?”

“I did... I don’t know if that means I can do the same thing, at all. We can try it? I’m not tired enough for sleep yet. We need light in here, if we’re going to work into the night.” He called a simple golden glow into being, at the ceiling, high above their heads. There were windows, along one wall, the rest of dwelling being inside the stone of the mountain, carved out in some smooth and professional seeming fashion.

It wasn’t truly dark as of yet, but Farad smiled at the effort. That or the idea that the Prince of Istlan wanted to keep going.

Anders, for his part of things focused on capturing the feeling that would be needed. It didn’t come easily, and for the first two hours nothing much seemed to be happening. When he was about to give up and call it a night, tired of being pushed backwards by Erold, Farad tossed up his right hand.

“There! You did it. Try it again?”

Erold, clearly bored, hit Anders again, then, five times in a row. Every blow came with the sense of what he was doing being stronger than the last. Even as each hit with less force as far as what could be felt. It was enough that Anders pressed himself into gasping and a bit of burning pain inside the nerves that ran along his arms and legs. Still, trying to make something happen, Erold increased his own power, until Anders was shaking and writhing under the assault.

He wasn’t being impacted by the magic though, simply resisting it. Not perfectly, since it truly seemed to be a brutal thing, but well enough that he was able to extend the limits of the effect outward, until it wrapped over Erold, and the room was plunged into darkness.

Which lasted until the Prince stepped back, about five paces away. Then the light came back into being, hovering above them like a dim sun.

There was a bit of clapping from Farad, who was standing well back and watching.

“May I try it, do you think? I was able to follow that. It was instructive, I believe.”

Anders figured that the man would instantly be able to match, or even defeat what he’d done, being so old and skilled, but it took nearly as long for him to manage it and again as long for Erold to do the same. In the end, Anders laughed a bit.

“So, after half a night of practice, we’re as good as Vogal was in half the time. Still, learning isn’t about how long it takes to grasp the subject, it’s about what you have added in the end. This is a good start. I’m not certain how useful it will be, in battle, since a good shield will stop a sword or arrow, and this won’t, but...”

There was a surprised look from Farad, and a shake of the elder’s head.

“Don’t you see? If we can undo magic in an area, then even those of amazing powers will be vulnerable to us, inside that space. True, then we will have to use force of arms or words to affect things, but knowing that ahead of time might aid us greatly. With this one method, we can change the field of battle forever. Ganges and... You called the woman from the crystal... Rothina?” The man locked eyes with him then and held it.

“Yes. Rothina.”

“Neither of them will be prepared to act without their magical talents, I have to think. I have such training, but unless they found a need for physical prowess over the centuries, unknown to me, Ganges simply won’t have gone in that direction. He always relied on magic. Being weaker than he that way, refusing to harvest the lives of others, I was forced to rely on everything I could find. Strength of arms, skill and guile. Over time, I pressed myself to nearly match Ganges in personal magic. It was neither easy or pleasant, but I did it. It was never enough to truly face him, however.” There was a closed eyed grimace then.

After a long time, the man spoke, seeming grave.

“This isn’t enough, of course. We have to find the edges of this power, and to press it in a thousand ways, to make certain it is not easily going to be gotten around. It will take work and study. We leave for Istlan in some days?”

Anders noticed the use of the word we, but nodded.

“We do. I don’t mean to be upsetting or untrusting, since you are, in part, me, but would you be willing to allow me to read your mind, do you think? Before I take you to the land of my people, who might be endangered if I arrive with a threat. Another one. I know that’s insulting and...”

The man simply smiled, and opened his hands.

“Of course. We should have done that before. Please? I will do that with you as well, at the same time, if you allow?”

Anders focused, nodding slowly to indicate that was well with him, dropping into a trance, expecting to have to battle to make sense of what he was seeing. Instead, he merely stepped into the other man’s very life, starting at the point where the crystal was taken from his forehead. The last thing that Anders recalled from his first life.

Then, in what felt like fifteen hundred years, Anders lived everything that the other man had experienced. Much of it was dark, but there many good things as well. The love of women, his wives and on occasion concubines, was surprising. Anders had lived with him as he overcame his fear of women, however, and then over the centuries as he learned many things that Anders hadn’t even suspected would exist.

The man had mastered stone carving on a level that no one else ever had, for instance. His ability in magic however, wasn’t as good as what Anders had managed in the last year, on his own. Part of that was due to natural talent of the body he was in, of course.

Farad was incredible in battle, however. Few could match him with a blade or even a stick, that way. With nothing in his hands at all he’d been forced to fight armed men, more than once. Each time he was the victor.

Much of his life wasn’t, as it had sounded, spent in fighting Ganges at all. Most of it wasn’t. He simply lived and sought a better life for his people, attempting to find a way to improve the world, without leading directly more than was needed.

Anders was the King of Modra, the Sutha there, and then founded Istlan, as well as Yanse, later, and then Ferlith. There was also a time where the man had lived in other lands, for over a hundred years. Places so far away that Anders had to learn new languages to have a name for some of them.

That, placing all of what was happening into his mind was both simple and an exhausting task. He did it, as if it were an incredibly long book, that taught him almost everything. It wasn’t until the last moments that he began to worry a bit.

After all, if the life of a hundred-year-old man mingled with a twelve-year-old was overwhelming, then the true life of Farad Ibn Istel would swamp him totally. Except that, when he opened his eyes, Anders still felt like himself. He recalled it all, and had vast hallways of memory filled with information and even new books that had been placed there. Thousands of them, in fact.

It was as if he’d lived it, except that it was different than that. Thankfully.

“I have it all. Your entire life. That was... Interesting. It’s a memory, but... I’ve touched minds before, and it was never like that.”

Farad smiled.

“It was the same for me, it seems. Perhaps due to a deeper connection between us? We were, once, in part, the same man. Perhaps it is even part of how the crystals of memory work, unknown to either of us? A way to get both of us to the same place, on meeting? I do not truly know, but it was impressive, learning of what you have endured and mastered, in such a short time, Anders.”

Erold looked at him strangely then, and tilted his head.

“That was no more than a few moments... Farad is what he seems?”

Blinking, Anders closed his eyes again, and then took a deep breath.

“Yes. Not a perfect being, but more so than anyone either of us have ever met, as far as being good and kind. More so than me, at any rate. I think I have a copy of everything he’s ever seen, done or read. All the skills, as well. I can make that pastry now, I think?” He smiled, since that had truly been worth the learning. Many of the things from the other man had been.

Original Farad bowed his head a bit.

“So, we can go and see if we can dissuade Ganges from harming people for his own aggrandizement? If we can master the new skill well enough, that is. Trust me, there is very little use in fighting if it’s not needed. I don’t think that we can simply talk Ganges out of his plans, but...” He sighed. “I can’t forgive him what he did, but I have lived a very long time. There comes a point where you start to understand that nothing is truly forever. That a man, or woman, might do an evil thing one time and then be truly good for the rest of their days. With one like Ganges, who will not easily perish, might he not change enough to be worthy of forgiveness, eventually?”

Anders understood the thought, and even the desire behind it. Farad had fought his old friend, and thwarted him many times, attempting to protect others. There had never been even a single day, or even one dark moment where the man had hated Ganges. Even when he’d hated himself, for having failed his friend in the first place.

Instead of answering, not certain what the correct idea was, having seen the millions of dead that Ganges had stood upon over the ages, and the smaller, but still real mountain of corpses that Farad had climbed upon to tear his old friend down, Anders found a bed. The place they were in had a dozen rooms, and while the beds were a bit like sleeping on the ground as far as comfort went, he was so tired that he drifted off, as soon as he’d barred the door.

In the night, several times, his friends came to him, whispering in his ear, reporting what they’d found in those far-off lands they’d been asked to investigate. He thanked them, each time and placed what was told to him into the hall of memory, drifting back to sleep. It was a little annoying, that they were mistaking him for the other Farad, but it also made sense. It wasn’t as if they could see him as a small boy. They perceived the world, but without eyes or ears. Even when they spoke, it was different than true speech. More of a transfer of knowledge, as if reading a mind, instead.

It was fascinating, knowing what they were now. That they weren’t simply former people, but also the oldest gods, the spirits of places and times, as well as people long forgotten by even the histories that he held inside of himself. Only four of them made the mistake of thinking he was Farad though, so he got enough sleep, even if it was a bit interrupted at certain points. In the morning, rising at about the same time as the others, before the first real light of day, Anders reported what he’d been told.

“The land of Seraph is free of the spell of Ganges, but also has never dealt with him that they know of. Mithra, to the east and south cannot recall that he still lives at all, nearly as strongly as Istlan or Yanse are finding themselves affected. The rest of the world seems to be clear, after that.”

Farad didn’t ask how he’d learned of such things, already knowing, it seemed.

“I heard much the same. There are pockets of places affected in other lands, but nothing like what is happening here. Good then. If he’d learned to impact the entire world in such a fashion, we probably would have already lost. We need to go over the new skills, in a stronger fashion, as soon as we can. We should include Vogal, as well? He’s a capable fighter, but has always felt the lack of a personal magic rather keenly. Having a skill that can remove that from others might leave him feeling better about himself.”

That seemed to be a mere kindness, until, after their first meal, which Anders made for them, being light biscuits fried in oil, and a sauce made of fruit sweetened eggs, over fried rabbit strips, done well enough that Erold was watching him for betrayal. When that was consumed and Vogal called for, the real work began.

At first it didn’t seem to be that different than what they’d done the day before. Erold pushed at the man, who instantly stopped him from doing any kind of magic. Then, they fought, with Vogal easily disarming Erold, over and again, as if he were working with an untrained child. Then Anders was added, instructed to attempt as hard as he could, to overpower the man, using magic. He did manage it, several times, by fleeing to a great enough distance that he could cast spells again. Then, seeing that the light, the night before had worked, Anders impacted the world around the fighter, using that to impact him, instead of direct forces.

After the first few iterations of that, the other man took to simply following him, not allowing that trick to work, beating him soundly, the whole time.

Finally, all three of them, including Farad, tried to overpower the man’s skills. It took everything they had but they managed it, if only barely. Even at that, sending blasts of force and light at the fighter, Farad had to jump in and duel the man personally, to overcome him.

Anders got the idea.

“So, this is about the limit, isn’t it? As far as we know, Vogal here, at this moment, is the most powerful man in the world with this particular skill. What if we had several using this, though? Is there anyone we can ask to aid us, using magic against us, as we try to stop them, do you think?”

He asked Farad, feeling closer to him than anyone else in the world at the moment, but Vogal was the one who answered, using the same language that Anders had. Ferlith, which he’d learned the day before, reliving the life of the man that he’d once been. It was disconcerting, but he recognized who came, when called for.

A dozen men and women, all of whom smiled, and seemed both tall and powerfully built.

Not explaining the plan, Vogal simply pointed at them, including Grandfather Snow, and yelled in his own language.

“Get them! Use magic. Everything you have!”

They nearly died then, of course. Cascades of power ripped at the very fabric of the world, and Anders writhed in pain, having to move closer to Erold and then Farad, to form a bullwark of protection. They couldn’t answer with magic at all, when using their new skills and the devic, if they had come to watch, were invisible to him. Still, after a time those attacking them weakened, gasping and finally stopping in their efforts.

The whole thing had hurt, but Anders answered with a blast of light, which touched each of them in turn. Simply to test and see if he had any power left. The answer was that he did, having all of it, as far as he could tell. He felt tired, but not drained at all, in that fashion.

Seeing his friend doing that, Erold did the same, with Farad matching them, nearly, after some moments. His art of casting such was simply slower than what Anders was used to using. No one was harmed, since it was only a light, but the idea made sense to them all, even the now exhausted people.

Who, rather pleasantly, applauded them, as if a fancy trick had been performed for their amusement.

One of them, a tall woman, in a blue gown, with a face that seemed normal, if made more attractive due to her thick lipped smile, moved in and gave Farad a hug.

“That was different! Did the devic protect you all?”

Old Farad shook his head at the words but smiled.

“No, this is a new form of magic. One that Anders here and Vogal worked out, in fact. It uses a natural talent that I wasn’t aware of, to shut down magic, in a given area. It takes great effort and is not perfect, but could be of aid, if war comes this way. All of you should learn it, of course. This only took the three of us a day to reach this point and Vogal learned it faster than that. So, no being lazy, you lot! I’m going to go away, for some years. I’ve taken a position in Istlan, teaching magic and working with the devic, at their new grand college there. The road has been improved between here and there, so you can all come and visit, next spring, if you get a chance?”

The woman nodded, her face a bit too calm.

“We noticed the new road heading in that direction. It’s very nice. There are places to stay along the route as well? Miken and Carl both rode down it for a way, and noticed that new structures had been constructed. At least three of them.”

Anders spoke then, using the same language that the rest of them were. A thing learned from having invented it, in part. Others had helped with that, and he understood that Anders hadn’t been there at the time, but it felt as if it had happened to him, as much as anything ever had.

“You have that kind of thing all the way to the school there in Istlan. Now, not to be mean, but we should investigate this more and...”

The entire crowd stirred at his words, then, almost instantly, with only the slightest hesitation, tried to hit them again with various magics. This time, after the initial flailing to protect himself, in which he nearly died, he was certain, Anders moved in toward the dozen people and did battle with them. That part was very strange to him, of course.

He’d practice fighting, and was growing in skill a bit, as well as knowing all that Farad did on that topic now. That didn’t change his size or shape, which threw him off, however. Also, it was clear that, having lived the life of Farad in the way he did hadn’t gifted him with any greater strength. The devic had added an inhuman level of such things to Farad, over the ages. The old man was truly more powerful than ten strong men could ever hope to be.

Anders was about as powerful as one fairly active boy. It meant he wasn’t nearly as gifted at fighting, when that actually started. Interestingly, all of the others had to pick which they were doing, fighting with hands and feet, or using magic. The instant they all started using physical skills, Anders dropped what he was doing and sent them all flying backwards with a single palm pressed forward.

Stumbling at least. They were helping him after all, and while it was hard, they weren’t his enemies. He’d known some of them their entire lives. Bethan, the thick lipped woman, had literally been delivered by Farad, for instance. Anders recalled the scent of it, and the feeling of the dampness on his hands.

He also recalled teaching her magic. A different form of it than what Anders knew. A slower thing, that left the woman with only three spells ready to call on in a fight. She had to keep those ready to go, casting them for ten minutes each, every morning.

It was clear that she’d only bothered with one of them that day, as well.

Anders, however, could use thousands of different combinations, so set people to floating in the airs, spinning gently, hit them with blasts of cold water from nowhere and sent rings of fire at them, which were only illusion, since burning his helpers seemed pretty rude. Especially if he wanted them to aid him in that fashion again.

Prince Erold didn’t match him in speed or the number of spells, but when they’d subdued the others, with Vogal standing back and watching the whole thing, the tall blond fellow called a halt to it all.

“Stop! That was fine, I suppose. Clearly our magic types need to go to the school in Istlan! Go and rest everyone. We’ll meet back here... Tomorrow at the same time? Be better prepared.”

At least half the people made rude hand gestures at the man, for his words. Even if that would probably be very helpful. They had to press things to a greater level, if they were going to take on Ganges. Rothina would be even harder, being more powerful. That was what he’d heard, at least.

The rest of the day was spent writing, and in discussion, working out ideas as to how to best use the new talents they were developing. It wasn’t going that well, he thought. Farad, looking a bit tired, seemed to think otherwise, though.

“We probably won’t have to fight with Ganges, directly. Clearly, he won’t wish to harm you, Anders. I don’t know his plan there, but he seems different, the way you have spoken of him. Like he used to be, before. This Rothina, Lady Martya... She speaks of her plans openly to you?”

He shrugged, then cleaned the metal nib of his pen on a small piece of fine cloth he had for that purpose.

“She’s spoken of it, once. I don’t know if that’s part of her plan, or... Truly, I didn’t ask her to leave off, or to explain herself, either. I just assumed that it was a bad thing.”

Instead of assuring him that he was correct, which Anders didn’t see happening at all, the old man tapped the table they were sitting at, several times.

“We should do that? There is little need to start a battle, if words will work as well. It would be a mistake to draw a sword first thing, when a few hugs and kind words will repair old damages. Again, the problem there in this is mine, not theirs. I’m the one who cannot forgive. Failing in that, if they are trying to change would be foolish. I have to work on that. It’s difficult, to forgive, after everything.”

The words were in Istlan, so that Prince Erold could understand them as well. The younger man took his time to think, brushed at his short blond hair and didn’t speak until all eyes were on him.

“We should send some messages, today. Father needs to know of all of this, as well as several others. The last he heard from me, I mentioned only that Ganges had warped the minds of many, possibly the whole world. That, if nothing else, needs to be updated. It’s a rather strong statement, insisting on making so many forget you, isn’t it?”

The words got a rather ungentle snort from Anders.

“True! What is that statement informing us of, however? Is this an evil man hiding his new plans to harm us all behind magic, or a good man simply attempting to start a new life, unhampered by what has come before? For that matter, did he do it himself, or did Rothina? People can’t recall Ganges... That means that they can’t recall that she has that same man in her mind as well, most likely.”

Sighing, Farad closed his eyes. It seemed to be him going into a trance, and possibly was, but a few moments later several devic entered into the room. Two red and one pale blue one. He spoke to them, in a gentle voice, using the language of Ferlith.

“Friends! I would ask for your aid, if that is allowed? There is, in the land of Istlan, at the castle there, a man and woman, both with the same mind, in part. Ganges. Could you go and watch them, for a time, keeping yourselves hidden from both eye and magic? I don’t know what might be done, but take care. Leave if danger to you is presented, please? We need information, but not at too great a risk to you.”

Anders nodded then, understanding the idea. The devic weren’t dark riders, or at least these particular ones weren’t. They weren’t coerced and punished into working, or even begged to do a task. They were simply asked, as one would a friend. At the same time, Farad had always considered them as such, which meant that a great many of them preferred his company to that of others. They lived there, in Ferlith, guarded it and provided much for the people there, because it was their home as well. These were their people, and they were treated as equals there.

Even having seen all of what Farad had in life, the idea was so different than what he’d encountered before with the dark entities that it seemed almost as if there must be different sorts of such things. As if these beings were the small or weak ones. That wasn’t true, of course. They simply weren’t trying to burn them to death with gouts of fire, or to shake the mountain down.

Which, he realized, was just polite. He wasn’t doing that either and the truth was he could have made a valiant attempt at doing either one of them. When they left, he murmured a bit.

“I hope they’re alright? We should see to those messages now and to making ready to travel, in a few days. We’ll need to go to Duchy Lister first. The Duke there is a friend of mine. There are also some women we need to take back with us to the castle, and isn’t really a detour at all.”

Farad didn’t balk at the idea of women being with them. Then, he wouldn’t. The man loved women, as it turned out. He’d gotten a slow start that way in life, but over time had become quite fond of them, as a collective. Anders, the boy, was fine with them as well. The Farad inside of him... Well, he had, after a fashion, been changed a lot, learning from what the real Farad had done. It had left him with new skills, and while he wasn’t ten times stronger than a physically powerful man, he could see the use of smiling at a woman and not being afraid of them if they were alone.

It wouldn’t be an instant repair, but he had the tools now, to see to his future that way. That only left two potential problems for the time being. Ganges and Rothina. He readied himself to fight them, if he had to. Even to spend the rest of his life doing so, if it was required of him.

Then, because he didn’t want to be a monster, he also worked out another plan. One that used words, and he hoped, some common sense, instead of anger at what had gone before, when he was not there. He understood how Farad felt, having seen the sacrifices used to save him, and knowing that the price wasn’t worth the goal at all.

It had happened a very long time before, however.

He wondered, for a moment, if what was needed was for Farad to forgive, though. They had all lived for so long that it was fair to say they simply weren’t the same people, any longer. Even Anders had, in the last year and a half, as odd as that sounded to him.

No, he had to wonder if Ganges and Rothina could both forgive themselves. That, if they could manage it, would probably be the biggest factor in what was about to happen between them all.

Chapter thirty-two

For some reason Anders had suspected that someone called Grandfather Snow would be treated to a large going away party, perhaps with a parade, or at least have people insist on sending twenty attendants with him when he left, for what they had clearly stated, was going to be years. A long enough time frame that, instead of simply closing his home up, he actually gave the whole thing to the son of his neighbor, since the young man was planning to marry in a few months.

Then he gave away everything he owned, except for a few sets of clothing, two horses and a saddle. It wasn’t sold, even, for travel funds. Just handed out, with a smile, to anyone in the city who wanted it. Interestingly, about ten of the floating and glowing devic did travel with them, hovering over and around Old Farad as they rode out. So, he had an honor guard of a sort. They were faint enough that most of the people they passed wouldn’t notice them being there at all. Not that they were going to see many people while they traveled.

Heading back was much faster than going had been, the only reason they slowed at all was for the comfort of themselves and the horses. They hunted regularly, and when it came to gathering, having Farad there with them made a vast difference. Anders knew a lot of new edibles, but the other man bothered to search them out. The variety of food was vast, heading back. Not up to the castle’s food standards, perhaps, but it was the best trail food he’d ever eaten.

They slept in inns at night and held up in one of those for a full day, when an intense storm came in and lingered over them, dumping a lot of water, but also filling the sky with lightning and thunder. The wind was enough that Anders went out in the damp and created a full barn for their mounts. He didn’t mention it, but when they left in the morning the old man gave him a warm smile.

“Very wise of you, to protect our friends like this.”

They practiced as they rode, and in the evenings. Not focusing too insanely on fighting, but they did work on both using magic and blocking it, with a good amount of effort. They also talked to devic, learning to understand them and befriending them, mainly by being kind. On occasion, when they didn’t use their own power for things, Farad would inquire of his friends if any of them were willing to aid them. They always did it, and the man was always effusive in his praise of them, after. As if they were friends, or possibly pets, instead of things to fear.

It was, even with that, clear that the creatures were far more powerful than any human was, using magic. It wasn’t even close, as to what they could do. At one point, finding that the road was flooded, one of the devic, not even being asked, simply moved the water, and held it up, off the ground, then easily transported it, a running stream that was beyond its banks, miles away, so the road would remain clear. Anders thought he might have made a dam of some sort and deflected the flow, but he couldn’t have matched what he’d witnessed.

He knew that he probably couldn’t have even made an illusion of it, of an equal size.

After a while, he turned in the saddle a bit, to look at the elder in their midst.

“That was a rather large show of power, back there. Is that devic particularly strong, or good with water?”

There was a grin then.

“No. If anything Rafo is weakest with water. She’s no stronger than the others here, with us. They don’t often need to do things such as that on their own, but traveling with people who have bodies requires more work, at times. I think that’s the feeling from our friends?”

Prince Erold laughed then.

“I can see that! We can barely fly, move on slow horses and keep sleeping the night away. That must be frustrating. I understand that now that it’s been mentioned.” They’d been on the road for long enough at that point that it could have been a real issue for the floating, fast moving, beings.

Anders agreed, so spoke on it as well. The devic didn’t really see, after all. One of their friends was clearly Duke Cohen, but the former man didn’t hold himself as being any different than the others. Still, he called him by name, knowing it.

“What say you, Alder? Are you finding us too slow and annoying?”

That got a laugh which tickled his mind, not a real response, but the green glow that felt like the man settled near him, for a while, on their ride. It was companionable, even if Anders had left him blind once, in life. The fellow, clearly, hadn’t held that against him.

When he spoke next, it was oddly useful.

“Ambush, on the right, bandits. Seven of them.”

Farad clearly heard the words and Anders cleared his throat, rather gently, then whispered.

“Fight ahead, on the right. Bandits. I have this one.” He stopped in the road, pulled out his war bow, and muttered a spell. Then cast a single arrow into the right area. It froze all the bandits solid, leaving their horses untouched. The plants as well.

Anders, feeling annoyed, looked at the Prince.

“We need to take their heads off and leave them on the side of the road, as a warning to others. I’ll do that, and you two can get their horses?” he knew that both men would have done the bloody, or at least gruesome, work, but it had been his action that had made it needed, so he took the task as his own. No one argued about it.

The animals took longer, since all of them needed to be tended to, for different reasons. One was a nag so old that Anders had to regrow her teeth, just so she could eat again. How she’d lasted that long, he didn’t know. She was so raw boned that he worried, even after healing her, that she might not make it the ten miles or so down the road to Duchy Lister.

He used one of his own knives to take the heads off, after thawing the six men and one woman. That part shocked him a bit, but she’d had a blade out, and was dressed to fight, in leather and brown homespun trousers. None of them had started out smelling nice and dying hadn’t aided them with that task, either. Not that they were rotting yet. After warming enough to cut easily, certain things inside of them released, however, which was less than aromatic.

Then they rode on then, arriving at the duchy that evening.

They were met, actual servants working there already, and with the Duke seeming decently positive about meeting Farad, in person. He was kind about that part of things, and not too suspicious, having been in contact with Anders on the topic of the man. Including that Anders had relived all of his life with him, which would be very hard to fake, he had to believe. Perhaps not impossible, for one so old, but he felt like a good and honest person.

Then, Ganges had seemed more or less like that to him as well. The other man hadn’t let him look into his mind in the same way, of course. Then... Anders hadn’t asked. Too much of what he needed to know was like that. Things that he should have simply spoken of, and had avoided, instead. Mainly out of worry over what he’d find out, which was foolish of him to allow to happen.

The next day they set out again, with everyone in tow, heading back to the castle of King Mathias. Their pace was deliberate, and they brought the oxen this time, but there were no delays. Not even a single day of rain. Most of what Anders did was work out ways to keep people cool, as the temperature rose around them. The crops visible from the road seemed to have come in well, which was good to see, since war years were always a bit lean. It was in all the old texts, and he’d seen enough of that himself to know it was true.

The trip back gave Anders a lot of time to think about what it was he wanted to do, and say. He knew what it was he didn’t want, of course. A fight. Even if he and Farad might win against Ganges and Rothina, it would damage too many people around them to be worth doing. Plus, he didn’t really want to hurt them.

Yes, Ganges had done bad things, in the past. Egregious things that he could understand Farad not being able to reconcile at all. The deaths of children, as a sacrifice, for instance. Except, of course, that Anders had killed as well. So had Farad. In battle, but there were also the family of King Yarler who had been put to death. There was a fine line between murdering children with one’s own hands and doing things that had led to their deaths.

He didn’t know what to do about it, or how to repair the damage done to trust.

If he could do anything at all.

Anders was, as it turned out, still thinking about that very topic when they rode up to the castle. They had to do that, even if they’d gone past the school, where he was planning to live now. They simply had too many nobles with them not to. Plus, those people were living at the castle, for the most part.

As they rode up, the scene arrayed before them was rather interesting, since the King himself had come out to greet them, along with both Hoatha and Lady Martya. Depak was there as well, in rather plain seeming robes for him. Those were a simple, very dark, blue in color. They didn’t shine or have art woven into them, either. Still, he smiled at them. It was a bit tense, around the edges, but hidden well enough. The Queen wasn’t there and neither was Prince Robarts. No one else in his family either. In short, though a lot of the others would miss the message, Anders understood it.

If they were going to fight, first thing, King Mathias wasn’t planning to risk anyone else. Not even the normal servants were there, or the guards. Just the King, Depak Sona, Ganges and the woman with the ancient terror in her head.

Something very interesting happened though, with no one seeming to understand who Farad was. Not as they rode up. Even when they got down from the horses, with King Mathias smiling, grimly, as if he didn’t see a way to save the others there.

Anders bowed to him, then to the others.

“Hoatha, Lady Martya! Depak!” He moved in and gave everyone a hug, including the King, who he patted on the arm. “King Mathias, would you take these others inside, to refresh themselves? I’ll gather the horses for us all?”

The man bowed lower then, fighting tears from his eyes, understanding the secret meaning of his words. Hopefully, it would prove to be the wrong idea, of course.

“I understand... Sir Anders. I could stay, if you wish?”

He smiled at the man’s offer. It wouldn’t aid anything, but he understood the thought behind it. He was offering to stay, and help battle against impossible odds. Even if it likely would lead to his death.

“We’ll be inside in a few hours? We have things to speak of, and don’t want them overheard. You know, about when to bow and what fork to use? Nothing too important, I’m certain.”

Most of the people there didn’t understand what was going on at all. Depak didn’t leave however, simply smiling, rather calmly. Prince Erold simply shrugged and looked at Ganges and Rothina.

When he spoke, it was in a polite, if slightly stiff, fashion.

“We’ve all learned to remove magic, even from beings of great power. For a time, only, and we don’t mean it as a threat, but I thought it only fair to explain that first thing, before hostilities begin?”

Lady Martya frowned at the youngest Prince.

“That sounds rather dire. A bit unneeded, as well. Why suggest such things? Is something amiss?”

Farad moved forward, and bowed.

“Ganges. Rothina, isn’t it? I am Farad Ibn Istel. Perhaps you still recall me?”

Hoatha laughed then.

“Farad? I’d thought you were gone! Over a thousand years ago, or more, fifteen hundred years. I... Is it really you?”

The other man nodded, his snowy hair moving as he did it.

“It is. After I left, I learned much. I also, personally, have thwarted many of your plans, over the millennia. I founded many of the lands on this continent and prepared them to rebuff your efforts. I dare say, whatever you have planned won’t work as e...”

Lady Martya jumped in then, and held the man, closely.

“I do recall you! I too, had always thought you were gone from us. I was so pleased when Anders became you in part. Is that... Why would that be a dire thing, however? Even if you got in our way, a time or two... You were always against certain types of magic, so that’s allowable, I suppose. We don’t use that any longer, anyway. The lives and blood of others? Oh, to activate magics, but only as personal talisman. You know, a patch that you smear your own blood on to make work, in the distance? That isn’t what you hated though, I don’t recall? We don’t need to use that sort of thing personally and haven’t, for over a thousand years.” She seemed rather certain on that point. Also slightly annoyed at the implied accusation. Even if it was coming from her. That indicated a sore point around that topic.

Anders smiled at the idea, and nodded.

“But you have plans, to take over the continent here? Some of those weapons that you two made were used, at least by others, with the blood of those not using them, as well. Also, you’ve made most people here and in the south forget that Ganges exists, outside of legend?”

Ganges made a slightly sour face at that rather pointed accusation.

“Yes. A spell that copies itself in those with magical powers and spreads to those around them. I put it into action when I went to see the new Sula, Darian. I truly don’t wish to be pulled back into being what I once was. As we traveled it spread, of course. I could place any information into such a structure, but haven’t bothered with much more than keeping my name secret. I’m not truly proud of my past.” He seemed a bit down about that, which Anders wasn’t certain he believed.

Not that he had any real reason to think the man was lying. The story did fit with the facts, after all. Parts of them.

Rothina, Lady Martya, waved at Anders.

“I wasn’t part of that. It’s made my life here easier, but I didn’t know it was done, until after those here who knew of what I hold inside all forgot. Most of them, at any rate.”

Farad, not leaving him alone to ask all the questions, made a face at Ganges then.

“You killed those children. Dozens of them, to bring me back.”

For the first time since meeting him again, Ganges actually flashed into anger. It was hot enough that Anders could feel it, standing some four paces away from the man. It made the air fairly ripple, with tension.

“I did not! You never let me explain that to you! Those weren’t the sacrifices, they were the first people I tried to bring back to life. I failed with those, mainly, but managed to bring back several before I tried it on you. You can only do that kind of thing once, and if you fail, you’ll never get them back. I failed those children, but I didn’t take their lives. I used animals for that, bought for slaughter, and fed to the neighbors in several feasts. It’s no worse to do that than to simply hunt or eat, is it?” The man, seeming more like Ganges, seemed ready to argue the point. He even clenched his right fist.

Anders waved that back, and pointed at it.

“Don’t take this to blows, Ganges. This Farad isn’t what he seems and won’t lose to you, even if you simply strike at each other. Magic isn’t an answer either. Not now. I’ll demonstrate that later, after we finish peacefully speaking? It’s a pretty good new technique we’ve come up with.” He was slightly proud of their efforts that way, in fact.

The other man glowered for a bit, then schooled his face and bowed, a tiny bit.

“That works, I suppose. I wasn’t a killer then. I became a monster, later, and used the blood and life of those fallen in battle, but I rarely killed people to power my magics and never used children for it. Criminals, only. Even as a force of evil, I held to some rules, thank you. Rothina has as well.”

Something occurred to Anders then, and he pointed at the attractive, pale, woman. It was done in a rude, accusing, fashion. She simply glared at him, a small bit. Probably over the pointing, to be fair. He stopped, almost instantly, allowing her to relax.

“You traveled in time, to get here. Ganges told me that it would have taken a small mountain of bodies to power that kind of thing?”

His old friend, the one he’d known, or rather Farad had, let his head move from side to side.

“Because I didn’t want you to travel in time, to go back to the only home that you’d known, Farad. Anders... The truth is, once the tricks are learned, moving through space, or even time, isn’t truly that difficult. You clearly have the power, and the mind, to do that kind of thing. It tends to alter history too much to bother with, however. Also, I was being selfish, not wanting to lose you, so lied. Can you forgive me that?”

He bowed then, with a rueful expression. That sounded fair enough, when he was finally told about it.

“I suppose. For the lies. Stop that now, however? Would you be willing to let us look into your thoughts, to see if that’s all real? Also, Rothina, Ganges, are you both willing to drop your plans for world conquest? At least put those plans in plain sight for the rest of us to see, first? We might argue against them, but it would do a lot to keep the peace.”

Ganges looked at Rothina, not speaking himself. She simply made an annoyed face at Anders.

“Fine. The same goes the other way around, though. No taking over the world without me. My current plan...” She gave Anders a rather tight and vixenish look, suddenly.

Then she winked.

“My current plan is to have you take over the world, unifying them against me. Clearly, taking over by force, or even magic won’t work. So far you managed to undo several key points of my work, and made inroads toward bringing several places together. There’s a bit more, but we can discuss that later? If you kill me here, you don’t really need to know all of that, do you?”

That seemed more or less reasonable, so he nodded.

“We can look into your minds, then? I don’t want to call you liars, but... Farad let me look into his life. It was instructive and reassuring.” It wasn’t a very good reason to do that sort of thing, but Rothina, sighing, stepped forward.

“Go ahead.”

He had to focus for a while first and drop into a trance, but he didn’t start reliving her life, thankfully. It was dark at times, before the crystal was used on her. By her own mother, seeking to use her only daughter to enrich herself. She wasn’t ill or dying when it was used, either. It also wasn’t at all fair to the girl who had, at seventeen, been stripped bare by the five-hundred-year-old mind of Ganges, the Great and Terrible.

Then he watched her, over centuries, mainly teaching and learning, caring for the Lerna and oddly, farming. Eventually, after growing bored, she went traveling and learned that the world, in many places was horrible. So she’d sought to correct that. To her that had meant assassination and a few wars, which she worked on setting into motion for decades, before learning that Anders had a copy of Farad Ibn Istel in him. Then she’d warped time, slowly, over the course of a week, and stepped from the Red Desert into the past, on a different continent.

Where she’d changed her looks using a bit of magic, to that of a teen girl, and had simply walked up to the front gate of the castle and claimed to be Lady Martya, from the west. No one had ever checked on her too closely, after that. It had taken a bit of magic, but for her that wasn’t hard at all.

When he finished there, finding her to be truthful enough, he moved to Ganges, surprised when the man simply nodded at him. That was a bit harsher, since he really had tried to take over the world. Several times, in fact. Twice it had nearly happened. Then, both times, he’d let go of it, fearing what he’d become.

The rest of his life was, in many ways, just as interesting. He’d learned much and had, it seemed, missed his old friend, occasionally. He wasn’t the most honest man to have ever lived, but he didn’t lie casually, either. He was, in the end, simply a man, like any other.

A powerful one, but still a man.

That had Anders smiling, though he stood to the side, waiting for first Farad, and then Depak, to scan their minds, looking for tricks, or clever tracks. It could, possibly, be done, but if so, they were at least bothering to try to seem like decent people. Not like they always had been, but other than having gone to war, Ganges was no worse than many.

Depak Sona summed things up, nicely then.

“Well... I now know far more than I ever wished to about my father. It explains a few things about my own life. I was created in magic? Meant to be a Lerna? Interesting. Also, that you didn’t send Franken here to cause the harm he did. You made the magic for him, that was powered by blood...”

Rothina, Martya, shook her head.

“It was a mistake to send him here. To send him anywhere, in fact. He wasn’t an evil man, but he didn’t do well when under pressure. I had high costs built into some of the magics, hoping it would mean he’d never deploy them. It was there to leave him feeling safer, even if he never activated the things. That he took the life of a good person to power his escape... I should have seen that coming and protected him. Truly, I shouldn’t have had him pressing Anders as he did, to force you into becoming what you have.”

Prince Erold glared at her.

“What do you mean, pressing Anders?”

She looked at the boy, who was a young man, not a child at all. One who, at least possibly, could defeat her in a magical battle. Not that the idea seemed to alter her words.

Not that she taunted him, either.

“I watched him, and what was going on there, closely. He was learning magic at a surprising rate, and proved himself a capable man, defending you and Princess Sweyn from those assassins, using magic. After no more than two or three days of practice. After that, I pressed him in a dozen ways, of course. People don’t grow strong without resistance. Don’t feel left out, Erold. I placed obstacles in your path, as well. True, not great magical hazards, but things that wouldn’t have taken place without a hidden hand being involved.”

He seemed to be thinking for a moment and finally gave the woman a very hard look.

“I see. Stop that?”

She waved at him then, and smiled, sweetly.

“No? Though, if you attend the new school that Anders is putting together, I might not need to do anything that way at all. Though... I have noticed that you didn’t invite either me or Ganges to teach there yet, Anders?”

That was true and not a horrible idea, if they weren’t going to be enemies or try to take over the world. At least without him knowing about it.

“What a wonderful idea! Yes. I’d like that. You’ll both be under Depak Sona, of course. We need to convince Sula Darian to let some of the princesses stay on for at least a time, while they learn enough to go forward on their own. They might be there already, but... Well, I have much to learn myself, still. On a great many topics.”

That was simply clear.

Still, for the time being it was enough, and after passing out some hugs, they all went inside. A war averted, for that day.

Then, Anders walked the short distance to his school, and set up his quarters, getting ready to begin the next adventure of his life.

Teaching.

Also preparing. The current problems were, if not solved, then at least possibly out in the open. Not watching Ganges and Martya very closely would, of course, be a mistake. He thought he could trust Farad, and was on good terms with the others.

He hoped.

Still, for the moment, even if something felt slightly portentous, he was able to relax, smile to himself and start making enough furniture for several buildings. Then all he needed to do was find a few more students, and he’d be ready to open the doors.

Thinking about that, he headed outside, to the woods, to take down some trees.