Mageborn The Blacksmith's Son

I refused to take it and spent the next few moves improving my control of the center board. Then I offered a gambit of my own, placing a pawn in a seemingly indefensible position. He took time studying the position and while I waited I noticed the room had filled with people. Every notable staying with the Lancasters was there, along with the Thornbears and her grace, the duke’s wife.

  Eventually Devon decided to ignore my gambit and I smiled at him. His uncertainty had led him to believe it was a trap. A pawn sacrifice usually is, but I had counted on his fear, my gambit had been a bluff. If he had taken it I would have been even further behind and at risk of losing completely. As it was, my pawn unbalanced his position and allowed me to take his defense apart.

  He hadn’t seen it coming, but several moves later it became clear his position was fast becoming untenable. Sweat stood out on his brow and he glared at the board, seeking some way to salvage the situation. I had pinned his king’s knight and he was left with a choice of what piece to sacrifice. He responded by moving his bishop to put me in check, but the move exposed him further as I calmly countered, bringing up a pawn to defend my king. He was forced into an exchange of pieces that ended with my taking the knight. I was still behind in material on the board, but his position was scattered and indefensible.

  A quarter of an hour later it was over. I slid my remaining rook into position and it was check and mate. I smiled at him graciously. I would have sworn he was ready to spit nails, but he held his tongue. “I must concede,” he said.

  “Then it is time to settle accounts,” Duke James spoke now.

  Devon stood, “I’ll write a letter of credit on my accounts in Albamarl.”

  “You’ll pay him in hard coin. You made no mention of papers and clerks when making your wager!” James was angry, but it was calculated. He had already known it to be highly improbable even Lord Devon would carry so much gold while traveling.

  “I don’t have that much with me! What man carries a strongbox while traveling?” Devon Tremont was flustered now.

  “Then you’ll pay what you have and write the letter of credit to me. Your banks and clerks would just as easily cheat another man, but they will pay when I call your account due!” Then he turned to me, “You’ll get your reward Mordecai, I will not see a man insulted and then cheated to boot.”

  Devon was red faced now, “You dare imply my writ is no good?!”

  James Lancaster stared him down, and I was reminded of two mastiff’s squaring off for a fight, “I have no love for bankers. If you come to Lancaster again and seek a quarrel, bring your strongbox with you, you will have need of it.” And then he laughed. It was a deep laugh, the sort that starts in the belly and makes its way all the way up. I’m not sure how he managed it, given how hot the emotions were running, but it worked.

  Soon enough everyone in the room was laughing with him. Devon didn’t laugh though, not at first. He had been thoroughly humbled. Yet he was smart enough to see a way out when it was offered. He joined in at last, and a bitter laugh it was; it was not enough to cover his bruised pride. Devon left quickly after that, and I wondered who would suffer for his anger this time.

  I found myself beset with people who wanted to clap me upon the back, and within a half an hour I felt I was near to being thumped to death. Devon wasn’t popular it seemed. Marc’s father finally rescued me, “Let the boy be! He’s had enough for one day.” He cleared a path for us through the crowd and got me into the hallway. “I’ll see you in my chambers in an hour, Mordecai. Try not to be late this time,” he joked.

  I winced at the reminder of my previous blunder, “Yes your grace.” He strode off down the hall and I decided I’d best go to my room and get my head on straight. Since leaving that morning I had had nothing but one surprise after another. I could still hear them laughing and carrying on in the room as I walked away. “Did you see Devon’s face!” “Two hundred gold marks!”

  I ran across Timothy on my way back. “Evenin’ sir!” he said to me with his usual energy. “I heard you gave that Lord Devon a fine trouncing!” Word spread quickly; doubtless a crowd of the servants had been hovering outside the parlor while we played.

  “Not as much as he deserves,” I replied, “but let's keep that between us.” I gave him a conspiratorial grin.

  “Don’t worry sir, Tim here would never sell out his friends!” he gestured to himself with his thumb.

  “I would be honored to be counted among your friends Master Timothy,” I said with mock exaggeration. That pleased him I think, even though he knew I was teasing him. For such a young lad he was remarkably sharp. “Would you do me a favor Timothy?”

  “Sure sir!” he answered.

  “Keep an eye out, and if you or someone you know sees Devon Tremont doing anything odd or suspicious, come find me. Can you do that?” I might have only a few friends among the nobility but perhaps I could turn the staff to my advantage.

  “Glad to sir. It’s nice to see one o’ them get their comeuppance at last. Meanin’ no disrespect to our own good Duke o’ course!” he said.

  “If you run into Penny let her know I need to see her, I’ve had a devil of a time finding her the past two days,” I added. He assured me he would and then we had reached my door. I said goodbye and stepped inside. The cool dark room was a welcome relief. I must be getting accustomed to the comforts of privacy and a feather bed.

  That thought made me pause, the rooms I had been given were easily the size of my parent’s entire house. I felt lucky to have my own tiny room and bed there. What would happen when I spoke with the Duke?">

  What would that sort of money do to me? Or them? I didn’t want to wind up like Devon Tremont, arrogant and uncaring. The Lancaster family was kind though, so perhaps nobility would not inevitably turn me into a pompous ass. I became aware that I was pacing the room, making a circle around the sitting chair and the divan.

  In the dark. I stopped and stood still. The room was pitch black. I could hardly see my own hand if held it an inch from my nose. Yet I had been navigating easily around the furniture a moment before. I realized I could feel where everything in the room was, a sensation similar to seeing, but more visceral, like touching everything around me with feather soft fingers. Curious I closed myself to my power, as I had recently learned to do before sleeping. The sensation ceased and I found myself trapped in the cloying dark. It felt as if the world was closing around me and for a moment I was claustrophobic.

  I hastily opened my mind and I could see again. Just not with my eyes. It was such a subtle thing I had not noticed it when I could see normally. I lit a lamp and sat on the bed. I had a lot to learn and without a proper teacher I had no idea what to expect. I wished Penny were there to talk to, but then again, the last time I had seen her she had been frightened senseless by my newborn power.

  It was time to see the Duke, so I pulled out my mother’s surcoat, emblazoned with the Cameron arms. It was a loose garment, open at the sides so I was able to put it on, even though it was clear that I was a bit larger than Elena had been. She had been a tall woman, so it was only an inch or two shorter on me than it should have been. I belted it around the waist and went out to find James Lancaster.

  I found him in his rooms, with Genevieve beside him. They had the look of two people who had been sharing secrets. James gestured for me to close the door behind me. After I had done so I stood facing them.

  “I am here at my mother’s request.” I said.

  Genevieve burst into tears. It was so sudden and unexpected I had no idea how to react. She leapt up from her seat to throw her arms around me. In the sixteen years I had been alive, and the eleven or so I could actually remember, I had never seen Marc’s mother lose her composure. Laugh yes, angry occasionally, sorrowful perhaps... but I had never known her to weep like this. Worse she was clinging to me in a manner that should have been reserved for her own children or her husband.

  Nervously I put my arms around her and patted her lightly on the back; looking to her husba
nd to guide me. He merely nodded, as if to tell me it was alright. After a moment, Genevieve released me and returned to her seat. She was still sniffing and her face was a mess, red and puffy.

  “I was certain when I saw you walk in here wearing that,” James said. “I have not seen her in over sixteen years, but you look much like your mother, although your coloring is your father’s.”

  “You knew them?” I asked.

  “I did. I met your father several times in Albamarl while he served the King. I knew your mother even better as she grew up in Castle Cameron not twenty miles from here. I met Ginny there,” he looked affectionately at Genevieve.

  That confused me and I guess my face said as much. Genevieve answered my unspoken question, “I was there to visit my sister, Sarah, your grandmother.” Her eyes were still wet. I took a moment to work out what that meant. If she was my grandmother’s sister, that made Genevieve my mother’s aunt, and my grandaunt. She was family!

  “But that means...”

  “Your mother was my niece, and you are my great-nephew.” I guess her hugging me wasn’t such a breach of protocol after all. Then another thought struck me.

  “So Marc is my...” I have never been very clear on the rules for calculating the various degrees of cousin-hood. Fortunately I was in a room full of amateur genealogists; the nobility learn this stuff from the time they’re old enough to talk.

  “Your first cousin, once removed,” she finished for me. It would take me some time to sort out the connections in my own mind. At first I wondered if this meant I was a relation of the Lancaster family, but that was not the case. I was related to Marcus through his mother, who had been a Drake before she married James.

  “How well did you know my mother?” I asked, once we had gotten back on topic.

  Genevieve answered, “Very well, she was my only niece. When she announced her intention to return to her family’s home for a visit I wanted to go as well, but James and I were required to be in Albamarl that week. I would have liked to have seen you... with her,” she almost broke down again, but taking a deep breath she regained her composure. “She was very young and full of life. When she decided to devote herself to the line of Illeniel and take the vow I thought her father might go mad; so angry he was.”

  “He didn’t want her to marry a wizard?” I had no idea what sort of issues being a wizard entailed in the circles of high society.

  “No dear, that was later, I mean when she decided to become Anath’Meridum,” she replied. “Your mother was mad for fairy tales and adventure, that and her athletic nature led her to seek your father out.”

  Now I was more confused, “What does Anath’Meridum mean?”

  Genevieve explained as best she could, with occasional help from James. Neither of them understood it, but apparently certain wizards were bonded to a guardian, a warrior that would watch them, stay with them, and eventually die with them. At least that is what the legends implied, but I got the impression that James didn’t really believe their lives were linked in the physical sense.

  “Why would a wizard allow himself to be bound in such a way that if his guardian died he would die also? That never made sense to me, not that I don’t believe it is possible. I just don’t think they would set things up to work like that,” said the Duke.

  Genevieve nodded, “In any case, her father was none to pleased about it. She was his heir and the vow precluded her from inheriting. I don’t think he was too keen on passing the estate to her younger sister.”

  “When did she marry my father, Tyndal?” Genevieve was proving to be a wealth of information and the past was coming to life before my eyes.

  “About a year after that she and Tyndal were engaged. It was supposedly rare for a woman to become Anath’Meridum, but those that do frequently fall in love. I guess it is to be expected when a woman and man are forced to spend every day together,” she said.

  “How many Anath’Meridum are there?” I asked.

  “None now, I would assume. There was only one for each wizard, and the Illenial family was the last of the recorded lines. You have to understand, I don’t know much about the traditions, only what Elena told us,” she seemed apologetic.

  “So my name is Mordecai Ardeth’Illenial, or should I call myself di’Cameron?”

  James spoke up, “Properly your name is Mordecai Illenial, although you could choose to carry your matrilineal name as well, Mordecai di’Cameron Illenial in that case. Ardeth is a term added for a wizard that has been bound.”

  I had no idea if I would or could be bound as Tyndal had. It sounded extremely awkward. Of course I had no understanding of the true reasons for it at that time. We continued talking for a while, till the conversation turned to the future. A subject I was understandably nervous about.

  James broke the topic, “Mordecai, you realize the Cameron estates are still in my hands don’t you?”

  As a matter of fact I didn’t. I was so ignorant of the workings of the upper class I wasn’t even sure what he meant. “No sir,” I said uncertainly.

  “After the fire, the murders, none of the Camerons were left, other than some distant third cousins. I might have passed the estate to one of them, but your mother’s note made me aware of your survival, so I have held them in trust,” he paused, “for you.”

  He had to explain a bit more to me then, but it seemed that the lands of the Cameron family were held by the Lancasters, and through them by the King. In other words, the Count of Cameron had been his vassal and the Duke of Lancaster had the freedom of deciding to whom he would bestow the title and estate to, if he chose not to keep it for himself. In short, he was offering the lands to me.

  “If you intended all along to pass the land to me, why did you wait till now?” I had done nothing but ask questions since I came in.

  “Your mother, and I as well, felt you would not be safe,” he said simply.

  “Wouldn’t I have had guards and a castle?”

  “They were not enough for your parents. Almost everyone in Castle Cameron died that night. I had no way to prevent something similar from occurring again. Even now I worry that you might fall prey to a similar fate, but you cannot remain as you are anymore.” For a moment I wished that I could remain a simple blacksmith’s son, the world he described was too big, too dangerous. Mort Eldridge didn’t belong in a place like that.

  “Why not?” I wished aloud.

  James responded, “Your only protection until now, has been anonymity, and anonymity is no longer enough. You now have an enemy who will someday be one of the most powerful peers of the realm, rivaled only by myself and superseded only by the king. Your only protection now is that of rank and station.”

  I had to admit the logic of his words, but something else occurred to me, “You said ‘almost’ everyone in the castle died. Who were the survivors?”

  “The only ones that lived were those who were away or didn’t eat the meal that evening. Even those that didn’t partake were slaughtered when the assassins came. A handful of servants hiding in the cellars survived, as well as Father Tonnsdale; who was fasting and locked himself within the chapel,” he answered.

  “Who was the poisoner?”

  “We never found out. There was nothing left to discover. The fire gutted the castle and the few that survived didn’t work in the kitchens,” he said. The lack of evidence obviously bothered him as much as it did me.

  “What about the assassins? Surely something must be known about them, or who sent them...” I asked.

  “We believe they were the Children of Mal’goroth, a cult to one of the dark gods. They overran the Kingdom of Gododdin many years before you were born, we thought they had plans to repeat their actions here, but there has been little sign of them in Lothion since that night. The few we found were already dead,” he sighed. “We won’t uncover the secrets of sixteen years ago tonight, and we have other things to accomplish.”

  “Such as your grace?” I was curious now.

  “You
reached your majority last year, I believe...,” he looked at his wife.

  “Mordecai is sixteen and will turn seventeen in almost two weeks,” she answered. Genevieve was possessed of an excellent memory regarding birthdays apparently. The age of majority in Lothion was sixteen.

  “Very good, Mordecai I will confer your title and land upon you tomorrow evening, followed immediately by your commendation ceremony.” He smiled at me.

  “I am overwhelmed your grace.” I said, stunned. Who could have thought he would move so quickly?

  “Please, call me James when we are in private. Now, you should go and get some rest. Marcus is planning a boar hunt in the morning and you’ll want all your wits about you for that.” He clapped me upon the back and led me to the door. He leaned out and shouted, “Benchley! Fetch the scribes. We’ll be working late tonight!”

  “Thank you your gra... James,” I stumbled. He nodded at me and I found myself walking back to my rooms in a state of profound shock. I was barely aware of my surroundings and nearly walked into Penny as I rounded a corner. She was accompanied by Rose Hightower.

  Penny let out a most unladylike yelp when she saw me. At first it seemed she didn’t even want to meet my eyes. I had never known her to be shy before, but she had been through a lot lately, so I figured it might be understandable. “Penny! Thank the gods! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” I grabbed her hands with a sense of relief. “I need to talk to you.” I gave her my most serious look.

  A slight cough caught my attention and I realized my mistake, “Forgive me Lady Rose, I forgot myself. I hope you are well this evening.”

  “No need to apologize, I cannot blame a gentleman so taken with the sight of his lady-fair.” She gave me a knowing smile and I started to protest but she continued, “What is this?” She was looking at my surcoat. Penny took notice as well.

  “Mort?” she made my name a question.

  “It’s complicated, and one more reason I need to talk to you, but not the most important one,” I was having trouble getting her attention. She looked to Rose.