Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (55 page)

That time in Donalt’s room hadn’t been the only time she had mentioned marriage. Even Purcell had looked askance at first. Lucius didn’t know what she had said to her father, but whatever it was had caused Purcell to suddenly find excuses for them to be together. It was: “Lucius would you escort Lysara to...” Or “Lucius my friend, Lysara wanted to show you...” it was intolerable being manoeuvred in such a fashion.

To his horror, he was starting to like it!

He had been watching for Julia in the glass every few days since reaching Elvissa. It was a genuine pleasure to give the news of victory at Malcor to Purcell. There had been celebrations and feasting in the fortress and the town. Lysara danced wonderfully. She insisted on teaching him the latest dance steps to come out of Japura and the Capital. Silly though it was, he had enjoyed himself immensely.

The habit of checking his mirror had stayed with him. That was why he was thundering across Deva. He had watched Julia leave for the north, and he left Elvissa the following day. He didn’t know if Julia would need him, but he was determined to be on hand if she did. While stopping for water one afternoon, he used the mirror and checked Julia’s progress only to see the terrible results of her magic. Another legion destroyed with Julia trapped and close to death. They had ridden right through that night and led the horses at a walk the next day.

“We have to stop for the night!” Lysara shouted over the thundering hooves.

“We’re nearly there. If we keep on we could be there in another couple of days.”

“You fool!” Lysara shouted, “You’ll founder the horses!”

“To the flames with the horses. Julia is dying!”

“Think Lucius! You’ll be walking. How long will it take you then?”

Curse it! The girl was right. He slowed from the gallop to a trot, and then to a walk.

“Make camp,” he ordered with frustration thick in his voice.

With mirror in hand, Lucius stalked over to a log and sat. He stiffened when he heard a noise behind him. Thinking of the last time he had sat like this, he readied his magic. He sighed when the noise turned out to be Lysara sneaking up to catch a look at the mirror.

Fool girl!

“You might as well come over and have a look. You’ll strain your eyes from there,” Lucius called into the gloom.

“Wizards...” she mumbled. “Unnatural talents...”

Lucius grinned.

Lysara sat next to him and looked at the mirror. Thoughts of her closeness and the smell of her perfume vanished as he saw Julia lying pale and unmoving in a bed. She was safe at Malcor, but...

“She looks dead,” Lysara said.

“No!” Lucius snapped and lowered his voice as some of the guardsmen looked up in alarm. “She lives. She’s in a deep sleep. The body does that to save its strength and to try to heal.”

“How can you tell? Her lips are blue, and she’s not moving.”

“I
told
you,” he said trying not to be harsh with her. “In this kind of sleep the body doesn’t move to save strength. Besides, a healer is giving her something look.”

Lucius watched the old woman administer a potion of some sort. He widened the view and saw the ingredients on a side table. With a startled oath, he shot to his feet to run for his horse, but then he remembered they were camping. Everyone was looking at him strangely as he made himself stop and walk back to retrieve his mirror.

Lysara handed him the glass. “Are you mad?”

He grimaced. “It was stupid of me. Of course the healer has no choice, but the cost!”

At Lysara’s impatient look, he explained.

“She was giving Julia Tancred. Julia must be having trouble breathing. That makes sense when you see how much smoke a grass fire causes. Her lungs must be in a bad way, but Tancred is addictive. The amount the healer was pouring down Julia’s throat will make her crave more of it, but that’s not all. She will have visions and dreams. Some of them will be prophetic. I have seen sorcerers give up on life because of what they saw.”

“I’m sure she’ll be all right, Lucius. You said she was strong—even sorcerer rank.”

“There’s no doubt that she is a true sorceress, but that makes it worse. The stronger you are the more vivid the dreams.”

“Come and have some food. There’s nothing to be done tonight.”

Lucius nodded reluctantly and walked with Lysara back to the campfire. Julia was on her own.

* * *

The last thing Julia remembered was watching Keverin moving ahead while Mathius carried her through the desolation she had created. Maybe Keverin really did love her after all, but it was too late now. Julia drifted above the plain. She didn’t know where she was or what she was doing, but one thing was clear—she could only fly on the bars, not in the sky.

This must be Father Gideon’s Other World.

The thought of being dead didn’t distress Julia as much as she thought it should. Her thoughts felt wrapped in cotton wool. She saw with relief that the fire was no longer burning. She hoped next year new grass would obscure what she had done here. Nothing would make the memories disappear, but at least the land could heal. Wondering about Keverin, she flew south hoping to catch a last glimpse of him before trying to find her way to her parents. What if heaven was different for different worlds? How would she find them? She didn’t know the answer, and tried to forget about it for a while.

As she flew toward Malcor, the sun flickered across the sky. Why was the sun moving so fast? As usual, she had more questions than answers. It wasn’t fair! She should have all the answers now. That’s how it was supposed to be!

Julia reached Malcor and cried out in horror. The fortress was a blackened shell. The citadel had been reduced by fire. What was going on? She had destroyed the legion sent against Jihan. Malcor couldn’t be destroyed... but there it was before her. Julia landed and wandered into the citadel—what was left of it. She found blackened walls and burned doors. She pushed open what was left of the doors leading to the great hall. The blackened carvings mocked her. She remembered them whole and unburned from her time at Malcor. It seemed impossible that these were—

The world dimmed.

“Noooo!” Julia shrieked in panic.

The fortress brightened once more leaving Julia gasping and shivering. “I don’t understand...”

She wandered into the great hall and found nothing but more burned remains. A chair here, a tapestry there. Julia picked up a scrap of cloth. It was Jihan’s banner. She looked up to where she had last seen it hanging, but of course, there was nothing there now…

Julia gasped and swayed with sudden dizziness as the hall changed around her. The banner appeared exactly as she remembered it. She was back! The hall was unburned and whole—just as she remembered it. Exactly as she remembered it. She laughed in delight, but her pleasure faded as she watched familiar faces coming and going. They couldn’t see her, but she knew them all. They were Jihan’s servants.

“A new door,” Ellyn said.

“What did she say?”

“Only that she needed a new one. It was an accident she said.”

Julia staggered as the hall faded to be replaced by the burned and broken remains she had found earlier. She dropped the scrap of cloth and wiped her hands upon her dress with a shiver. What she had seen was just a memory—a ghost from the past.

Julia ran outside and launched herself into the air. She flew toward Athione on instinct. With joy she realised it hadn’t been destroyed, but her joy was short lived when she saw the gates hung broken and untended. She made her way into the citadel but the place was abandoned. Julia was about to leave when she saw someone outside in the courtyard. As quick as thought, she was standing behind the bent figure of an old man. There was something about him. She couldn’t quite grasp what it was, but suddenly she knew the worst.

This was the future! The ruin of a man was Keverin, and he was at least seventy years old. Worse, he was blind and missing his right hand. What had happened?

“Who is there?” Keverin said.

“It’s me Kev, Julia.”

“Julia, are you there?”

Before Julia could answer, a teenage girl came out of the stable wiping her hands on a scrap of cloth.

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”

“I could have sworn... no matter. Have I ever told you why you were named Julia?” Keverin said seating himself upon the steps to the citadel.

“Yes father. Hundreds of times,” she sighed.

Father?
This girl was Keverin’s daughter?

“When I adopted you,” Keverin went on oblivious to his daughter’s scorn. “You reminded me so much of her that I thought the God had been kind and sent her back to me.”

“I know,” the girl said impatiently. “She was a great sorceress, defeated three armies, and killed thousands of sorcerers. Now I need to get back to work.” The girl stalked away.

“She’s so like you Julia,” Keverin whispered to the empty courtyard. “Fiery she is, just as you were. Back then I was tall and strong and Athione was a power in the land, but you weren’t impressed.” He chuckled rocking back and forth.

“I was... I am impressed with you Kev,” Julia said sadly.

“You put me in my place more than once, and everyone loved you, but I couldn’t say it, fool that I was. My pride wouldn’t let me, but I did tell you in the end. All our dreams are gone forever now, as you are. We thought you would never lose. You were so powerful. None could stand against you. Then
he
came and took you away from us, but I fixed him. It was too late to save you, but I fixed him.”

Julia wanted to weep for the broken man that had been a great lord. As she moved away, she heard him speak once more before she fled.

“I love you Julia said I, and you said it didn’t matter, but it did you see. You see that don’t you? Love always matters. I love you now as I did then. Perhaps the God will take me today and we will be together by his side. I hope it’s today.”

Julia flew away crying.

The sun was flickering again, but now she knew why. It was the days moving by so rapidly that all she saw was the flicker of the sun’s movement across the sky. She crossed the country to Elvissa, then Meilan, each time looking for the answer, but everywhere she looked she found broken walls or burned towns.

War had come to Deva...
and we lost
.

Devarr itself was whole and undamaged. It was full of busy people. Hasian legionaries mingled freely with Devan’s and there didn’t seem to be any animosity. Why should there be? These people had been starving under their own lords, but now they seemed prosperous and happy. She flew to other towns not near the fortresses and saw prosperity. Was it so bad that the Hasians had won? It didn’t seem that bad at all. Julia noticed one strange thing and flew down to investigate. Two black robed men were taking a young boy away from a crying woman. Boy? Well he was a man really. At fifteen children were considered adult here. The scene seemed familiar, but she couldn’t think why.

Then Julia remembered Lucius talking about his childhood in Keverin’s study. The black robes were stealing the boy away for training as a sorcerer. She followed them until she came to a horrible sight. Perhaps thirty black robed sorcerers surrounded a compound full of children. The older boys were trying to be brave and were comforting the younger ones, but the whole place reeked of fear, and desperation. One young man stood apart from the others coldly studying the sorcerers. He was older than most—quite a lot older in fact. He was at least twenty. How he had escaped detection for so long was a puzzle. Julia wanted to shout to him not to try what he was so obviously considering, but she knew he wouldn’t hear her. Moments later he was dead. He had tried to use his magic to escape, but the sorcerers had sensed him and burned him to ash.

“There’s always one who tries it,” a black robe said.

The other nodded in satisfaction. “Hmmm. Lucky for us too. No need to choose one at random for our example.”

“You’re too soft!”

“Nothing to do with being soft. We might have chosen one with real potential. Godwinson wouldn’t be amused to lose such.”

Julia moved away grieving for the lost boy. Intellectually she knew he was not dead yet, but emotionally was another matter. Not knowing where to go, she drifted through the streets like a ghost, but nowhere among the every day conversations did she hear talk of rebelling against the Hasians.

Keverin was both right and wrong about how to save Deva she decided after viewing similar scenes in other towns. He was right in trying to educate new mages, but he was dead wrong about leaving the lords to their own devices. This future was the direct result of an over privileged nobility. In the future, how far she didn’t know, the common people would welcome the Hasians. They would welcome anyone who put food in their mouths, and who could blame them? The fortresses had resisted fiercely. She knew that from the remains left behind, but they were overwhelmed. The sorcerers had made harsh examples of them and the towns nearby. No one could doubt how resistance to Hasian rule would be answered.

The lords had to be brought to heel and the kingdom united under a strong leader. More than this, the common people needed to feel they would be treated justly, and that defending Deva was in their best interests. If Keverin failed to stir some patriotism in the people, he might as well invite the Hasians to take over rather than lose lives in a futile war.

* * *

“You gave her Tancred,” Lucius accused. “I saw you in the glass.”

“Aye of course.” the healer said in exasperation. “Her breathing was so bad that she would have died if I hadn’t.”

“Don’t you know it’s addictive?”

“Aye, but the craving is better than being dead.”

Lucius couldn’t say much to that. Of course, he hadn’t said anything about the dreams. What would be the point? She would only use the same argument, and she was right.

Lucius glanced at Keverin. The lord was sitting at Julia’s bedside staring hard at her as she wheezed her shallow breaths. “Does he know how bad she is?”

“He’s no fool, but I think not.”

“That’s what I thought. Thank you for keeping her alive. Would you ask Mathius to come in? This will take both of us... if it works.”