Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (48 page)

Read Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Online

Authors: Mark E. Cooper

Tags: #Sword & Sorcery, #Magic & Wizards, #Epic, #Historical, #Fantasy, #Series, #Sorceress, #sorcerer, #wizard

BOOK: Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3
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“—alive again. You should have seen her with the wounded. It was as if she saw Corlath in each one she helped to save. She’s asleep in her room now.”

Thank the God! I couldn’t live without you my heart.

* * *

Lucius tried to see the wound the way Julia did when healing. He frowned in concentration but he was having difficulty envisioning what she described. He thought that he might have glimpsed it once or twice as he slipped into the realm of power, but it was probably his imagination. Although Julia didn’t have as much experience with magic as he did, her control over this aspect was way beyond his. Healing was her primary talent, though that might change when she had learned enough to judge her abilities one against another. Maybe it was something to do with her sex, or maybe people were inherently different where she came form. Whatever the case he was wasting his time trying to learn her method. It just didn’t work.

Sighing, he gave up and brought out his needle and thread to begin sewing the man’s arm. He had found the Tanjuner bleeding to death near the shattered gate and instead of giving him the grace had decided to use him as a messenger boy.

“There, that should do it,” Lucius said as he finished.

“Why are you helping me?” Methrym said. “Your people will kill me as soon as they find out I’m in here.”

“So you’re awake are you? No, no! Don’t thank me, it was my pleasure I assure you.”

The Tanjuner growled a curse and tried to get up.

“You listen to me War Leader—yes I know what you are. I saved you for a reason. I’m going to give you a horse and supplies so you can ride home to your emperor with a message.”

Methrym stopped struggling to rise and looked warily at him. “What message?”

“Tell Vexin not to send any more assassins after me. Tell him to
heed me
or I swear that I’ll pay him a little visit. While you’re there you might as well mention that the next Tanjuner army I see on Devan soil will not survive long enough to be an inconvenience. Tell him to look to Athione. I’m sure he’ll know what I mean. Now get up and follow me.”

Lucius led the fuming War Leader out into the courtyard and into one of the stables. He quickly saddled a horse while Methrym hid in the darkness. Scouting about, Lucius found a water bag and a small travel pack and threw them both to Methrym before leading him and the horse into the night.

The War Leader mounted. “I am Methrym of House Malai. Remember it wizard. I want you to know the name of the man who kills you!”

“Very pretty speech,” Lucius said in amusement and Methrym scowled. “You just remember what I told you to say. Now be gone!”

Methrym galloped away into the darkness.

Julia wouldn’t like what he had just done, but it was necessary. Vexin would hardly give up his dreams of conquest just because of a little set back like losing an army, but the thought of what happened at Athione might give him pause. He hoped so any way.

“Who was that?”

Lucius turned and went to join Purcell. “A man named Methrym.”

“I know you must have a good reason, but why are you letting one of the enemy go instead of killing him?”

Lucius was not fooled by Purcell’s tone. The look in the lord’s eyes said he was holding his temper until he had his answer. Lucius appreciated Purcell’s restraint. He had been accepted as a friend only recently—letting an enemy go could be construed as traitorous. He liked Purcell, but more than that, he liked his new life and didn’t want to lose this chance at happiness.

“He will carry a message back to emperor Vexin for us,” Lucius said as they walked back inside. “I told him I would take exception to any more assassins being sent, and that if we see another Tanjuner army on Devan soil it would be destroyed.”

“Good idea! Shame it’s only a bluff,” Purcell said beaming.

There were still a good many people moving about collecting weapons from the fallen and removing the bodies. Outside the wall, the Elvissans were taking care of their own dead. The Tanjuners had indiscriminately piled bodies a few hundred yards away, and it was their unenviable task to find their comrades and remove them for burial. The Tanjuners would be burned.

“I wasn’t bluffing about destroying Vexin’s army,” Lucius said with a shrug. “You have seen what Julia can do when she fears for her friends. They don’t know her as we do. They would certainly be surprised and defeated, but the assassins are another matter. I’m certainly not going to kill Vexin, but it can’t hurt to warn him. You never know he might take heed.”

They paused looking around at the scene of battle. The gates were lying against the wall and the remains of the barricades had been shoved to either side. Bodies lay where they had fallen, but there was no longer any Devan dead among them.

“If they send another army Elvissa will fall before Julia could possibly get here,” Purcell said. “Donalt barely held them off, and more than half of his men are dead. Gy will have to return to Meilan eventually, and Marcus to Athione. I don’t think my boys will be able to hold off the might of Tanjung for long—not if Vexin is serious.”

Lucius made his way into the citadel thinking of ways to bring Deva into parity with Tanjung. “You have to find some way to motivate the other lords into levying troops. In the Protectorate each lord pays to equip two thousand men for the legions. You need something similar here in Deva.”

Purcell chuckled, but there was no humour in the sound—more like frustration. “I agree my friend, but unlike the Protectorate we don’t have a strong leader to force the lords to do that. If we did, we could have a hundred thousand men under arms.”

Deva had always been a rich land, and although hard times had now come, the lords could easily afford to contribute to the kingdom’s defence. The lords ruled their lands, which included the towns and cities nearest them. The king in Devarr ruled the lords in turn. Most lords had a castle or stronghold, but even those who did not could help with funds.

There were only two ways to make someone do what you wanted, Lucius mused as he negotiated the tower steps. The first way was to offer something in return, and the second was to threaten dire consequences if they didn’t cooperate. The problem with the first was that the lords were already rich. What could possibly be offered that would make them do their duty? If the second way were to be tried, Purcell would need a very big stick indeed to make the lords sit up and take notice. Civil war could result if it wasn’t handled right, and they would be even worse off.

Looking around at the aftermath of the battle, Lucius didn’t at first recognise where he was. A separate section for the women where their word was law was still strange to him.

“Where are we going?” Lucius said. “If I’m not completely lost, we’re in the women’s quarter. I don’t think you should have brought me up here.”

“Don’t panic man! Big strong wizard like you should have no trouble standing up to the women,” Purcell said laughing.

It was all right for him to laugh. He was already married! Men ruled the Protectorate, but it was surprising how many times Lucius had heard a fellow sorcerer say he was adamantly opposed to this thing or that, only to see him energetically pursuing the opposite position the very next day. Women in the Protectorate might not rule the country, but they most definitely ruled their consorts!

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucius said. “No woman is going to tell me what’s what. I’m not married, and I’m not going to
be
married. I like my life now I have some freedom and I’m not giving it up. I don’t
like
marriage!”

Purcell laughed. He was completely at his ease, but Lucius was becoming extremely uncomfortable. As they progressed, they were passing more and more women. The lord would incline his head respectfully to high born and low alike, and receive one in return. A serving girl, who would curtsy to her lord while elsewhere in the fortress, became a completely different person here. Her manner would change from subservience to haughtiness as soon as she crossed into this quarter.

Lucius followed Purcell’s lead, but he didn’t receive the same response as the lord. The woman in question would incline her head in like manner, but before and after that, he was subjected to intense scrutiny as if she were trying to decide what shelf he should go on. The last one was the worst. He would swear that she catalogued his every fault!

Subject: male two yards tall, dark hair and beard. Occupation: wizard. Dirty boots, thread hanging from right sleeve. Status: unmarried!

Lucius snorted at the thoughts running through his head, and received a grin from Purcell. Together they walked into a room. It was nicely appointed without being over done. The walls had good quality tapestries depicting the Elvissa Mountains if Lucius was any judge. A large fireplace provided the only illumination. The logs crackled and popped quietly.

Purcell left him to enter another door.

Lucius caught a glimpse of someone in a bed as Purcell entered a brightly lit room, but he couldn’t be certain who it was as the door closed to cut off his observation.

Walking idly around the room, Lucius came across a painting. It was a simple family scene painted in this very room. He studied the portrait of a younger Purcell and his family. Lady Isolde—he assumed—was sitting on the arm of Purcell’s chair. A young boy and girl were sitting at their parent’s feet while the older son stood behind the chair with one hand on the back of it staring at him. The eyes of the staring figure seemed to follow his movements as if judging his fitness to be in the room. This had to be Corlath. He knew Purcell’s son had died only recently, but the portrait seemed to dispute that. It was so life like. He almost expected the boy to walk out from behind the chair and demand to know what he was doing here.

“Janni painted that almost ten years ago.”

Lucius spun to see who had spoken. It was a girl—no a woman. She was the child in the painting. She had grown into a stunningly gorgeous woman. She was about his height and wearing a simple dress of pale yellow cotton. Her hair was golden fire and her eyes sapphire pools that glowed in the firelight. She shone. She trapped his gaze with hers, and he couldn’t look away.

When Lucius had first met Julia, he had thought he would never meet a more beautiful woman than her. He was wrong. Julia was lovely, but in a different way than Lysara. If Julia was the strength and fire of the sun, then Lysara was the quiet serenity of the moon at midnight.

“I told you to bring him in, not stare at him with your eyes falling out!” Purcell boomed from his place in the doorway.

Lysara blushed charmingly and turned to her father. “Sorry father. We were just looking at Janni’s painting.”

“Never mind that my girl. Donalt is awake.”

Lysara quickly went to her brother’s bedside. At Purcell’s invitation, Lucius followed. The man in the bed was very pale but he managed a smile at his father’s reappearance.

“I am Lucius. With your permission I will examine you and try to help.”

“My thanks, Lucius,” Donalt said weakly.

Lysara moved out of the way to let Lucius close to the bed. He pulled the covers down to reveal the bandaging wrapped around Donalt’s middle. Using his dagger, he gently cut the bandages away to reveal a long livid wound in Donalt’s right side. The cut was deeper in the front then quickly became shallower toward the boy’s back. It was at least two hand spans in length.

“You are a very lucky man. Any deeper and your stomach would likely be punctured,” Lucius said as he pressed the wound firmly.

Donalt grunted as puss was squeezed out of the wound.

“I’ll take your word for it Lucius of course. I must say I don’t feel very lucky,” Donalt said with a weak laugh, but then he grimaced as his movement caused him more pain.

“Ha! That will teach you—” Lysara scolded her brother.

Lucius listened only absently as he invoked his mage-sight. Again, he failed to see what Julia said she saw. Resigning himself to failure, he didn’t bother trying further. Instead, he used his magic to ease the boy’s pain. Donalt gasped in relief as the spell touched the wound and soothed it. Using a method of his own devising, Lucius ensured his spell would continue to keep the pain at bay. It was a part of what a mage did when building a self sustaining ward. In this case, the magic would be continually entering the wound in the shape of his spell.

Lucius prodded the wound again. “Can you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“Good. If Julia was here you would be completely healed in moments, but she’s at Malcor. You will have to heal the slow and natural way, but I can keep the pain at bay and give you strength. I’ll sew the wound closed. It will help to keep infection away.”

“Sew! Will that not hurt him?” Lysara said worriedly.

“Not in this case lady. My spell stops the pain. Do not your healers know of the invisible animals that cause infections?”

“Surely you jest! Animals small enough to get in there?” Lysara pointed to the wound.

“I am not jesting. In Hasa all healers know of them, but knowing about them doesn’t help to stop infection. Keeping wounds clean, using clean bandages each day, and boiling the old ones does. Julia could probably destroy them directly, but none of her injured guardsmen were wounded long enough to need that.”

“I mentioned her to you earlier Lysy,” Purcell said.

Lucius began closing the wound with his needle and thread, while listening to Purcell describe Julia’s battles at Athione. He was interested to hear that Mathius had handled the wards for both of them—it confirmed his earlier thought. Mathius would be strong one day... if he survived. Lucius finished sewing the wound closed. He left a small part of it open at the lowest point to allow any blood to drain. With Purcell’s help, he bandaged the wound and used his magic to strengthen Donalt’s flagging energy.

“Are you married Lucius?”

Lucius looked up at Lysara in sudden alarm. Purcell watched with a slowly widening grin.

* * *

15 ~ Lord of Malcor

Jihan stood fully armoured in the south courtyard waiting for the guardsmen to bring his father. The entire population of the fortress was crammed onto the walls and around the sides of the courtyard waiting to see him best Athlone. Ahnao stood with Julia and Keverin directly opposite him. Ahnao looked worried, and strangely that made him feel better. It was wonderful to have people who cared. During his time at Athione he had made a number of friends, not least Keverin and Julia, but it was Ahnao he instinctively looked for upon entering the courtyard.

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