Frostborn: The Iron Tower (36 page)

Perhaps Tarrabus would find his power hampered. Though knowing what she did about the nobles of Andomhaim, Mara doubted it.

Few of them were men like Ridmark Arban. 

“I suspect,” said Calliande, “that you have acquired the Sight.”

Mara looked at the taller woman, and saw the pale glow of the magic of the Well waiting within her. 

“I think I know what you mean,” said Mara. As she looked at Calliande, she saw flashes of other things, of gray mist and a vault of stone, of a twisted staff and a grinning dragon’s skull. “But I don’t understand what the Sight is.”

“A magical talent,” said Calliande. “Incredibly rare. In ancient days, the Keepers of Avalon were alleged to have it, until they perished fighting the Frostborn. I have to cast a spell to sense the presence of magic, but you do not. You need only to look to see the presence of a spell, to discern its nature and kind. And sometimes the Sight grants glimpses of the past or the future or far-off places. It is…little understood.” She tilted her head to the side, frowning.

“What is it?” said Mara. 

“I did not know that I knew that,” said Calliande. She sighed. “Evidently I had forgotten.” 

Mara frowned. “Is it dangerous?”

“Anything can be dangerous if misused,” said Calliande. “But I don’t think the Sight poses any immediate danger to you. You might see things that will disturb you.” Mara’s eyes wandered to the jagged, half-melted stub of the tower of iron. She saw see the residual dark magic clinging to the ruined tower. “But I don’t think it can hurt you. The traveling, on the other hand…”

Mara lifted her hand, listening to the burning song inside of her head. If she concentrated, if she drew on the song, the veins beneath her skin started to glow, and she could step into the fire and let it carry her somewhere else.

“I don’t think I can go more than thirty or forty yards at a time,” said Mara. “And the farther I go, the harder it is. It’s like…piling rocks, I suppose. The first one is the easiest, but every one after gets harder unless you rest.”

Calliande considered that. “The use of magic is much the same way. I suspect you have gained the ability to transport yourself using the power of your dark elven blood. Ridmark told me the Warden could cast such a spell within the walls of Urd Morlemoch. And Shadowbearer can travel wherever he wishes with his magic. It might be dangerous. Traveling too far using magic can drive a human insane, but if you cannot move more than thirty yards at a time…”

“And I am not fully human, anyway,” said Mara. “I suppose that it is an effective tool.”

“As the Artificer found out,” said Calliande. 

Mara got to her feet with a grunt, and they stood in silence for a moment, watching the warriors and the men-at-arms sort the loot. 

“What am I?” said Mara at last.

“Yourself, of course,” said Calliande with a smile.

“I knew that,” said Mara. “But what am I now? I always thought I would become an urshane or an urdhracos. But the transformation came…and I don’t know what I am now.” 

“Something new,” said Calliande. “Your father intended you to become a monster. But you turned the transformation to a new direction.”

“Thanks to the Watcher,” said Mara, voice quiet. Calliande had asked her not to tell anyone else of the Watcher, and Mara saw no reason not to comply.

“He gave you the chance,” said Calliande, “but you took it. I do not believe this has ever happened before, a dark elven half-breed who resisted the transformation and retained her free will. So what you are now is entirely up to you.”

“I suppose,” said Mara, “in that regard I am no different than any other man or woman.”

“No,” said Calliande. “Paul Tallmane made his choices, too.”

“Thank you again,” said Mara. “For everything.”

To Mara’s surprise, Calliande laughed. “For a former assassin of the Red Family, you are perhaps the most studiously polite woman I have ever met.” 

“My mother was always polite to everyone,” said Mara. “To the very moment she died.” She took a deep breath. “I thought I would be polite until the moment I became a monster. Since that is apparently not to be my fate, instead I shall be polite until I die.”

“If you come with us to Urd Morlemoch,” said Calliande, “that may be sooner than you like.”

“I know,” said Mara, “but Jager’s mind is made up, and I agree with him. I would like to live quietly somewhere, but I fear that is impossible if the Enlightened of Incariel come to rule Andomhaim. Or if Shadowbearer brings the Frostborn back.” She shrugged. “And Jager feels guilty, so guilty, over stealing the Dux’s signet ring and dragging us into this. He wants a chance to make up for it, and I will go with him.”

“He never shows it,” said Calliande.

“My Jager is a brave man,” said Mara, “and he would rather go to his death than show weakness to anyone. So we shall accompany you.” She hesitated. “If the Gray Knight will have us, of course.” 

“I think he will,” said Calliande. “In his heart, he wants to go to Urd Morlemoch alone. But he knows he has a better chance of success with companions.” 

“As do we all,” said Mara.

“I feel rested,” said Calliande, “and I shall spend some more time among the wounded.”

“Are you sure?” said Mara. Calliande had healed wound after wound last night, focusing upon the most badly injured until she had collapsed from exhaustion and Ridmark had carried her to a cot. “Surely you cannot have recovered already.”

“I have not,” said Calliande, “but the work must be done. If politeness is your compulsion, then this is mine.”

“A more admirable one by far,” said Mara, and Calliande laughed and went about her work. 

Mara watched the courtyard, marveling. She had been so certain that she would die here, or that she would become a monster. But neither had happened…and she did not quite know what to make of the new possibilities before her. But did not the scriptures say that the judgments of God were beyond understanding?

Jager strolled over to join her, and Mara grinned and kissed him.

“I had a thought,” said Jager.

“Only one?” said Mara. “Perhaps we should consult Calliande.”

“Ha! Well, several thoughts related to the same topic,” said Jager. “Crowlacht’s men liberated a great quantity of food from the Tower’s stores, more than we can carry. It would be a shame to waste it all.”

“This is so,” said Mara. “Everyone should have a good meal before we depart.”

“It also occurs to me,” said Jager, “that Brother Caius is a friar.”

“Yes,” said Mara. “He’s mentioned it.”

“It means that he’s also a priest,” said Jager.

Mara opened her mouth to answer, and then her mind put the pieces together, and she started to laugh. 

“I have to ask you a question,” said Jager.

###

Ridmark emerged from the battered keep and saw Kharlacht and Gavin talking.

“It is not surprising,” said Kharlacht. “You have observed how they look at each other.” 

“But why here?” said Gavin.

“What is surprising?” said Ridmark. 

Kharlacht and Gavin looked at him, and Gavin grinned. Even Kharlacht looked almost pleased, or at least less grim than usual.

“Jager and Mara,” said Gavin. 

“What about them?” said Ridmark.

“They’re getting married,” said Gavin.

“Here?” said Ridmark.

“Here and now,” said Kharlacht.

“Apparently Jager simply planned to have Caius marry them then and there,” said Gavin. “But we have all this food and wine looted from the larder, and Crowlacht and Otto want to get drunk and feast anyway…and what better excuse than a wedding?” 

“Among some of the tribes of Vhaluusk,” said Kharlacht, “it is traditional for a man to present his bride with the weapons of defeated foes to prove his prowess and courage.” He shrugged. “I suppose the Iron Tower and the sword of Paul Tallmane are trophies enough. Perhaps Jager can carry Paul’s head at the wedding.”

“Calliande would object,” said Gavin.

“Mmm. This is true.”

“They love each other,” said Ridmark, rolling his staff between his fingers, “and they have gone through great perils for each other. Why not?”  

“Then you will not insist that we depart for Urd Morlemoch at once?” said Gavin.

The boy wanted to attend the wedding. Ridmark almost smiled.

“We need a few days of rest in any event,” said Ridmark. “I see no reason why not.”

“And Jager and Mara will accompany us,” said Kharlacht.

“Of course they will,” said Ridmark. “I am marching to certain death at Urd Morlemoch, determined to go alone…and somehow I have acquired followers. By the time I reach the walls of Urd Morlemoch I will likely have an army.”

“Crowlacht could be convinced,” said Kharlacht. “And Otto bribed, I suspect. Some of the tribes of Vhaluusk are not adverse to mercenary work…”

“No,” said Ridmark.

“He was joking,” said Gavin. “Wasn’t he?”

“You never joke,” said Ridmark.

Kharlacht offered a curt shrug. “A wedding is a special occasion. Exceptions can be made.” 

Ridmark opened his mouth to answer, and fell silent as Mara approached them.

“Gray Knight,” said Mara. “Might I ask you a favor?”

“Come, Gavin,” said Kharlacht. “We shall let them speak alone.” 

Gavin nodded and followed Kharlacht into the courtyard, leaving Ridmark with Mara.

“What is it?” said Ridmark.

“I am sure you have heard I will wed Jager in a few hours,” said Mara. “When Brother Caius performs the rite, I would like you to stand as my father.”

Ridmark had not expected that. “That is an honor…but why? I cannot be more than five or six years your senior, for one.”

“Well,” said Mara with a smile, “my real father would be a most unwelcome guest.”

“Truly,” said Ridmark, “but why me?”

“Because you saved my life,” said Mara. 

“You seemed to have done that yourself,” said Ridmark.

“And I would not have had the chance,” said Mara, “if I had died before we even returned to the Iron Tower. I was ready. I asked you to kill me. I begged Jager to kill me. I would have welcomed it, had you done it. And…you convinced me otherwise. You made me believe. And you were right. If we had not heeded you, the Artificer would have slain us all, and would even now be building his new empire.”

Later Ridmark would wonder why he said what he said next. Perhaps because Mara, out of everyone he had met since the day of the blue fire, understood. She had wanted to die, wanted to die as Ridmark had wanted to die after Aelia had perished. Maybe that was why he could be honest with her. 

“Perhaps I did it for the wrong reason,” said Ridmark.

Mara lifted her pale eyebrows. “What reason would that be?”

“Morigna and Calliande were right,” said Ridmark, his voice quiet. “I saved them because I could not save my wife. I would not kill you because I failed to save my wife. I know…I know that it will never bring her back, that it will never make up for what I did. I know this with my mind, but my heart screams otherwise. So here we are.”

“And here we are,” said Mara, “and I think a noble deed done for an incorrect reason is still nonetheless a noble deed.” She stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek, which required her to stand on the tips of her toes and strain. “Thank you. May I presume to offer counsel?”

Ridmark sighed. “Permit me to guess. I should stop blaming myself for Aelia’s death?”

“Well, that is a good idea,” said Mara, “but I was going to say that you should really do something about Calliande and Morigna. They will likely kill each other at some point.”

“Why?” said Ridmark.

“Because of you, I am afraid,” said Mara. 

Ridmark had suspected that was the answer. 

“They are wrong to think that,” said Ridmark. “Calliande does not know herself. She could be wed. And Morigna is…”

“Brave,” said Mara. “And fond of you. So because of that…you are afraid that they will meet the same fate as your wife, and you could not bear that.”

Ridmark said nothing. Which, he supposed, was answer enough.

“I understand that,” said Mara. “Better than you know, I think. But do not live your life in despair, I beg of you. I did that. I thought I knew the future beyond all doubt. And look what happened instead.”

Ridmark tried to smile. “Perhaps, when this is done. If we live through this, if we stop the return of the Frostborn. Then…perhaps I will be able to think on what you have said.” 

“Well, Jager and I will be there to advise you,” said Mara, “all the way to Urd Morlemoch.”

Ridmark sighed. “I suppose there is no way to dissuade you.” 

“No,” said Mara. “Not any more. We have as much of a stake in this as you, Gray Knight. Shadowbearer wants to bring back the Frostborn, and Shadowbearer’s servants kidnapped me and forced Jager to steal from you. No, we shall see this through to the end.” 

“So be it,” said Ridmark.

Mara blinked. “I would have expected more of a fight.” 

“This has happened enough times,” said Ridmark, “that I know better than to fight it by now. If you want to follow me to Urd Morlemoch, then follow. I will not stop you.” 

“Then we shall indeed see this through to the end,” said Mara. 

“I would be honored,” Ridmark said, “to stand as your father at the wedding.”

###

So Ridmark stood as Mara’s father as she wed Jager in the courtyard of the Iron Tower. 

The mercenaries and the orcish warriors stood and watched as Caius led them through the rite. It did not surprise Ridmark in the least that Caius had the entire rite of marriage memorized, and recited it in flawless Latin, leading Jager and Mara through the ceremony.

At last Caius pronounced them one flesh, warned that God would pronounce stern judgment any who tried to tear asunder what he had brought together, and the new husband and wife kissed. The mercenaries cheered, while the orcish warriors bellowed in approval, shaking their weapons in the air. The feast began soon after, and Otto and Crowlacht and Sir Marcast and many others raised toasts to the health of the new couple.

Ridmark suspected it was more of an excuse to drink than anything else, but one could hardly disapprove of the sentiment.