As his voice trailed off, I decided it was time to make my offer. “Do you miss the earth-bond?”
“Most days I would say no,” answered the knight honestly. “Being a knight is a lot like being a soldier. Ninety-nine days out of a hundred, it’s a waste. That kind of strength just isn’t needed for living a peaceful life, but on a day like that one—well, a night like that one—at times like that, I missed it something fierce. If William and I had been our old selves, we might have been able to prevent the rout. We probably would have lost a lot of men still, but we could have stopped it from turning into the mess that it did.”
“I’ve been talking to the Queen,” I told him.
“You aren’t thinking about bringing it back, are you?” said Thomas worriedly. “I don’t think any of us would survive very long if we took it on again.” He was referring to the side effects of the earth-bond, of course. Over time, men bound to a piece of the earth’s heart began to take on characteristics of the source of their power. It started with rough patches of skin, granite teeth, and a certain rigid way of thinking. If left unchecked, they eventually became stone golems. I had released them all from the earth-bond long before it could get that bad.
“I’m was thinking of offering you and William a dragon-bond,” I explained.
“There are more dragons?” The knight’s eyes were wide. I had kept the number and existence of the other dragon eggs a close secret. Most people only knew about the ones possessed by Penny, Gram, and the Queen. Even Matthew and Moira’s dragons were unknown to most.
“There are,” I admitted. “The Queen and I think the Knights of the Thorn should receive them. There are too many strange things happening these days, too many places that need protecting.”
“How many?” he asked.
“I won’t disclose the exact number. I still consider the dragons a personal prerogative, but I can safely say that we could provide enough to give at least fifteen knights the dragon-bond.”
“Have you chosen the men yet?”
I shook my head. “That’s up to Harold, though I imagine he’ll want you and William to advise him. What do you think?”
Thomas was already on his feet. “Yes!”
I found myself grinning at his obvious enthusiasm. It was rare for Thomas to show excess emotion. “Want to meet yours now?”
A shadow fell across his face, dampening his excitement. “Harold should be first.”
“We’ve wasted enough time,” I argued. “I’ll take you to the cave. You can use the portal to go back right after. Whatever Harold is doing, you can take his place and send him along, William and Egan too. Then, tomorrow, the four of you can start figuring out who you want to train.”
Thomas couldn’t restrain himself, and he started following me before he had even given his consent. “While we’re at it,” he began, talking as we walked, “what about some armor like Gram’s?”
I raised one brow, looking at him over my shoulder. “You don’t like the armor I made for you?”
He held up both hands. “No, no, nothing like that! It’s just—well, it would be handy to be able to take it off and on with just a word the way he does. I was a little envious after seeing it in action.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “I’m afraid Matthew made that armor, and it takes a lot of time. You’ll have to make do with the plate I gave you for the foreseeable future.”
Chapter 32
The small audience chamber in Castle Cameron wasn’t a place I used very often anymore, but it proved ideal for the small meeting I had planned the day before. It held a table capable of seating twelve, as well as two large windows that allowed in a considerable amount of light. It was also warded for privacy, an improvement I had added years ago, after learning the hard way.
Karen was the last to arrive, and from the annoyed look on her face I assumed she had been visiting Matthew before coming. She exchanged a knowing glance with Moira, who sat beside me, and probably a few private telepathic messages as well. I didn’t ask, though. Sometimes a parent just has to trust his children to figure out their own problems.
Lynaralla sat on the other side of me, and Elaine Prathion was next to her. It occurred to me then that the chamber was occupied by every female wizard in Lothion, unless one counted Moira Centyr’s shade, but she was technically a magical construct.
“Now that we’re all here, what are you plotting, old man?” asked Moira with a grin that bespoke mischief.
“Something I can’t manage for myself,” I said cryptically.
Elaine spoke up then, “You know, George is starting to think you have something against him. Every time you need something, you call for me.”
I winced. George was her younger brother, and technically, she was correct; he would have served my purpose just as well, since he had the Prathion gift. “You’re right,” I admitted. “Tell George to come see me after we talk. I have something else he can help me with, but for this I think it would be best to keep it between you ladies.”
“So what is it?” asked Karen bluntly.
“I learned something interesting from Lynaralla the other day. There’s a library of sorts beneath her mother’s roots. I think it holds information we need,” I told them.
“And you want us to steal it?” asked Elaine. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Espionage is a better word,” commented Lynaralla. “My mother will likely offer the knowledge we need if we but ask. Your part is simply to keep my father ignorant of our presence. Is that correct?” She turned to see if her assumption was in line with my thought.
I nodded. “I’d like to take you, Myra, Karen, and Elaine to the island.”
Moira broke in, “Why Myra? Why not me?”
“The more bodies, the more likely you’ll be discovered. Myra can ride along inside one of the others and still provide the same benefits you would,” I explained.
My daughter sighed. “Let’s see, Elaine to hide our presence, Lynaralla to talk to her mother, Karen to return everyone afterward—what do you need the dark talents of a Centyr mage for?”
“Insurance. On the off chance they’re discovered by a lone krytek, Myra can rewrite the memories of the whoever sees them,” I answered.
“Or, if they’re caught and slain by Tyrion himself, she can send a spellbeast back to tell you what happened,” added Moira, voicing my unspoken thought.
“That’s an ugly way of putting it,” I protested.
“But a logical precaution,” noted Lynaralla. “Also, if I am her host for the trip, you can count on her to report fully on any conversation between me and my mother. She may also be able to glean information from Lyralliantha that I cannot.”
If I had been younger, her cold analysis of my ulterior motives would have made me flush with embarrassment. Instead I merely acknowledged her observation. “I trust you, Lynaralla, but that’s a valid point.”
“I’ll do it,” said the young She’Har woman. Elaine and Karen were also nodding in agreement.
Moira wasn’t completely sold on the idea yet, though. “Don’t agree too quickly, Lynn. What are you getting out of it? I understand why Dad wants us to do this, but this sounds like we’re just using you.”
Lynaralla smiled. “I am happy to be used, if it helps my family. My reasons are the same as yours. Also, I would like to study the writings. If we bring them here, I can read them at my leisure. Many of them probably contain spellweaving techniques that I can learn from. I cannot do that while they reside within Tyrion’s demesne.”
We talked a while after that, but not for long. Moira left to pass the word along to Penny while we made our way to Turlington. I had planned to use the World Road to get there, but Karen had already made the trip, so she teleported us directly, not to the city, but to the coast itself. From there I gathered them together and lifted us into the air.
A dragon would have been an easier way to fly, but then Elaine would have had to hide it as well once they reached the island. Plus, I could fl
y faster, getting them to the shore of the island in half the time.
Once Tyrion’s island came into view, Elaine shielded us in a veil of invisibility, and after we landed, Karen teleported me back to Castle Cameron before returning to her companions. Now all that was left for me was to wait.
So I went and found Matthew. I needed him for part of the enchantment I was adding to Penny’s new arm. Foolishly, I looked for him at home, thinking he might still be sulking, but it turned out he was in his workshop with Gary.
He and Conall were outside the shop, shaping copper to help finish Gary’s antenna. The android was looking on silently, but he greeted me with a quiet nod in my direction. I watched without interrupting until they were done. All in all, I stood there for most of a half an hour.
When they stopped, Conall spoke to me, “Dad.” Matthew didn’t bother speaking; he was still deep in thought.
“Give me a hand for a while, Matt,” I said, interrupting my oldest son’s reverie.
“Huh?”
“I need you to lend a hand with an enchantment I’m working on,” I explained.
Matthew looked at Gary, but the android simply shrugged. “Conall and I can handle the rest. We can test it this evening, maybe. I’ll let you know.”
With a grunt, Matthew walked toward me, and I led him back to my workshop. He was never much for conversation, but he seemed depressed. It was hard to say. He was hard to figure out at the best of times, and one had to be a mind reader to know anything about his moods with certainty.
When I showed him my design, he dove into the work immediately. It wasn’t particularly complex, especially since it was something he had done before. In this case, it was just an addition to the hand that would allow the arm to summon an enchanted shield I had already prepared. He had perfected the designs to do that back when he made Gram’s armor and remade Thorn, so it took him less than an hour.
He finished and started to leave, still not having said a word.
“Matt,” I said, causing him to stop.
“Yeah?”
“Are you alright?”
He shrugged. “I’m fine.”
“Sir Thomas told us about the battle,” I began. “He spoke well of what you did, but I wondered if—”
Matthew interrupted, “I’m fine, Dad. It didn’t bother me that much.”
I wasn’t finished, though. “You know I’ve been through a lot of bloody situations. Of course, none of them are the same, they never are. If you want to talk about it, I’m always…”
He kept walking, waving his hand in the air to forestall my offer. “I know, Dad. I’m fine.”
I watched his back as he left. Liar. I wanted to follow him, to make him talk, but I knew it wouldn’t work. He would open up to someone eventually, or maybe he wouldn’t. One thing I knew for certain: it had bothered him, whether he admitted it or not.
Being a parent has to be the toughest job in the world, I thought to myself. I think I’d rather do the account books or send men to war. At least they listen to me.
***
Karen returned that evening and found me in the main keep, where I was signing documents that Peter had saved up for me. According to my chamberlain, I had been slacking off too much lately, though from my perspective I felt I had been working too hard. We never saw eye to eye on such matters. In Peter’s eyes, the only work I did that was worthwhile was when I was sitting at a writing desk.
I looked up when she came in, “Are they alright?”
She nodded. “I just came back to eat and fetch food for them.”
“Where are they?”
“We got to Lyralliantha’s trunk without a problem. They’re huddled up against it, invisible, while Lynaralla talks to her mother. She said it would take a few hours just to get her attention, but after that they could hide underground, in the chamber where the writings are,” said Karen.
Assuming nothing stumbled over them before that. I couldn’t help but worry. “How soon are you going back?”
“As quickly as I can,” said Karen. “They can’t move until I return, otherwise I’ll arrive somewhere that isn’t covered by Elaine’s veil.”
Reaching over to the edge of the desk, I picked up a small bell and rang it. Peter appeared after only a minute or two. “Yes, milord?” he asked.
“Go to the kitchen with Karen and make sure that Cook gives her anything she wants, and make sure he knows to be quick about it,” I commanded him.
Peter frowned. “I hardly think she needs me to—”
I cut him off, “Now, Peter. The faster she gets the food and can go, the better.” I knew from long experience how surly Cook could be when it came to unexpected requests for special treatment. Peter would ensure the man knew how important this was. Plus, it was a great way to get back at my chamberlain for sticking me with so much paperwork. I grinned viciously at his back as he left the room.
Peter was easier to harass than Benchley had ever been. He showed his emotions too easily. I hummed a cheerful tune to myself as I signed a few more papers and then turned to review the latest statements from my factor in Albamarl.
Once that was done, I drafted a letter to King Nicholas in Gododdin. Ariadne had asked me to notify him regarding the Ungol village that we thought was inside his borders. While I had destroyed the warriors, neither the Queen nor I wanted to think about their families starving over the course of the winter. Since it was outside Lothion’s borders, we couldn’t do anything, but I had no doubt Nicholas would probably find a way to help them.
It was late in the afternoon when I finally finished, but before I could hide, Peter appeared. The man seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to whether I was busy or not, or perhaps he had been spying on me secretly. “George Prathion is here to see you, Your Excellency.” I could almost hear the smugness in Peter’s voice. This was his revenge for my kitchen errand earlier.
Perhaps he had been taking lessons from Benchley. I resolved to check into it later. No good could come of it if he learned from that man’s wicked example.
There was no getting around it, though. I had sent word for George to attend me earlier in the day. I had simply forgotten about it in the midst of everything else. “Send him in,” I answered.
The young man entered and presented himself with a short bow. “You called for me, Your Excellency?”
“Come sit down, George. No need to be so formal. It’s just the two of us.” I waited until he had found a seat before continuing, “How are you holding up?”
George looked uncomfortable, and his hands kept reaching up to adjust his jacket. Though his father had been the Baron of Arundel, most of his childhood had been spent as a commoner. He never had grown completely comfortable with the more elaborate forms of dress. “As well as can be expected,” he answered neutrally.
“It’s never easy, losing a father,” I said quietly. “And now you’ll be taking his position. I went through the same thing, though in a different order. I know the pressure you must be feeling.”
“Elaine is the eldest,” grumbled the young man.
“Tradition in Lothion dictates that the eldest male inherits, unless there is no other heir.”
“Those are outdated traditions,” argued George. “We have a queen regnant now, and Lady Rose has held the position of The Hightower for years without a husband. Even your wife, the Countess, held her position when you were—”
“I’m not arguing that point, George,” I said, interrupting him. “Elaine told me that you offered to step aside for her, but she refused.”
“But I don’t want it,” he said emphatically.
“Then you’re wise,” I agreed with him. “But one of you must, otherwise I’ll be forced to grant the title to someone else. Your mother can’t take it.” Rebecca Prathion was neither a wizard nor nobility, and while those weren’t necessarily problems, she was also fairly old and lacked both the spine and the skills necessary to succeed. The other lords of Lothion would never stand for her taking
the title.
“Then give it to someone else,” said George. “I don’t need it. We survived just fine before. I’m not suited to it and I don’t—I don’t deserve it.”
There it was, the guilt hiding just beneath the surface. He wasn’t responsible for the death of his father, Walter Prathion, but he felt it anyway. It wasn’t logical, but I understood. “That’s not the point, George, not at all.”
“It seems pretty pertinent to me.”
Given my own background, I knew what he was feeling, but I couldn’t afford to coddle him. Instead I took inspiration from James Lancaster, the late Duke of Lancaster. James had had some harsh words for me when I had doubted my own right to my title. With a stern look on my face I responded, “That’s because you’re an ignorant, self-absorbed young man, George, but I have faith you’ll grow out of that. You won’t be made Baron of Arundel because you deserve it, you’ll be made Baron because I need you. Your personal failings and character flaws are entirely unimportant to me.
“This isn’t an honor or a privilege, as most people assume. In truth it is closer to a punishment. The title is a duty, one that will follow you for life. You will not only become my vassal, but most importantly you will be responsible for protecting and feeding the people of Arundel,” I said harshly.
“Like I said, I’m not worthy. I’m lazy and my only claim to it is an accident of birth,” protested George.
“Do you think I was worthy?” I replied in a dangerous tone. “I wasn’t. No one is. Did you deserve to be Walter’s son, born with power, heir to his title? That’s ridiculous. The fact is, there are only a few wizards in this world. Your power makes you useful to me, and it also means you are better able to provide for the wellbeing of the people of Arundel than most.
“Lazy? Perhaps you were, but I don’t give a damn. You’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you had that luxury again. You’ll do your duty and lie awake at night wondering if you’ve made the right decisions for your people, and if you screw it up, I’ll be waiting in the wings to hold you to account. Your life until now has been a happy dream, one that is now over.