Moonstone, Magic That Binds (Book 1) (10 page)

His comment made Lotto laugh. “When am I going to do anything like that?”

Kenyr’s eyes turned serious. “You have to train as if you mean it. Don’t treat anything I say lightly. Unless I laugh after I say something, I’m giving you vital knowledge that might save your life.”

Lotto had to blink his eyes as he made a mental adjustment. A shock of fear shot through him.  What had he gotten himself into? He just hadn’t thought of his training as a serious undertaking.

He looked at the newly cleaned blade of the sword. The fear left him, replaced by awe as he looked at the blade. The metal didn’t shine like a mirror like other swords he’d seen, but it looked bright and solid. He’d even term it wicked and certainly more valuable than two golds.

“This is too valuable,” Lotto said, his breath nearly taken away as he slid the sword silently back into its sheath. The knife had more shine, but he could more easily judge its perfect balance. “You didn’t replace the grips.”

Kenyr laughed. “I’ll teach you to wind your own. That will make the weapons feel more like yours.” He walked to the center of the ring with a dull practice sword. “Come on out.”

Holding the sword in his hand, Lotto approached his new teacher.

“Lift it up.”

Lotto lifted the sword up and it felt too heavy.

“Swing it around.”

The sword didn’t work very well and Lotto felt deeply disappointed. “I can’t use it.”

“Here.” Kenyr traded swords.

This one felt better. Lotto swung the sword more comfortably.

“You look as if the king’s son has stolen your sweetheart.” Kenyr grinned. “Don’t worry. We’ve got to build your strength up. The sword is made for a strong man and that’s not you at present. However it will be. The one in your hand is lighter and much inferior as a weapon, but better suited for learning. We’ll start with some exercises to build strength and then end with some swing practice. A good swordsman needs to work at it. You’re just beginning.”

“I can’t take my sword with me?” Lotto nearly felt like crying. His expectations for the training session crumbled into despair.

“Of course you can. You won’t be ready to train with it for weeks.”

They worked out for an hour. Lotto hadn’t ever done much in the way of physical exercise and he quickly became exhausted. Kenyr took him back into his workshop. After he picked out blue-black cording for wrapping his grip and a quick lesson in how to fix the grips, he returned to the bookshop.

He had to consciously keep from hobbling. He taxed his muscles differently than he ever had and they were all protesting the abuse. The new experience surprised him and he still didn’t know what trouble he had gotten into. 

Mander waited on a lady in fine clothes. “Lotto, I’d like to you meet Lady Anna. Remember the book from a few days ago? She was the customer.” Mander smiled at Lady Anna and the way she returned Mander Hart’s grin, Lotto could tell they were very good friends. “Anna, this is Lotto, my precocious shop assistant.”

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Lotto,” Anna said holding out her hand.

Lotto felt his neck heat up. He shook the woman’s fingers and wiped his hand on his trousers. Maybe he should have wiped his hand first. He bowed as well.

Mander and his lady friend laughed, softly, but enough to embarrass him.

“What have you got?” Mander said, looking at Lotto’s new weapons.

Lotto’s embarrassment increased.

“I’ll let Lotto show you his treasure in private. Dinner tonight? Both of you?” the lady said.

Mander raised an eyebrow at Lotto. “Say yes, my assistant.”

Lotto blinked for a bit, panicked. “Yes.”

“Good. As the sun sets,” Anna said.

“As the sun sets,” Mander repeated.

The phrase seemed like a password. Lotto didn’t want to intrude. He could barely walk from his afternoon of training and now he had to eat dinner at a noblewoman’s house? He turned to go to the back of the shop as Mander said goodbye in a quite intimate fashion turning away from the couple.

He laid his new possessions on the table and sat down with his back to the front. He took a deep breath. All of his available time had disappeared. He thought that once he had cleaned up the shop that Mander might even let him go, but now with the magic studies, sword lessons and a social engagement, he felt overwhelmed. He flinched as Mander squeezed both of his stiff shoulders.

“Well, show me. Obviously you bought more than the poker.”

“The Seytaran weapons dealer caught me at the market and showed me these. They cost two golds, but I think they are work much much more. Here.” He gave Mander the sword while he still stood.

Mander whistled after he slid the sword from the scabbard. “When this scabbard was new, I’ll bet it cost more than two golds. This is beautiful. Do you know where it comes from?”

“Serytar. Where my parents lived.”

“Right you are. Impressive. You were able to find that out from our books?”

Lotto felt more grounded now. “I did. It’s a noble’s blade. The shape is called an eagle wing.”

“Old fashioned, but much sought after by knowledgeable swordsmen. There are one or two of these at court, you know. None are as fine as this. You know this blade is very old. It won’t take a bright shine like a new sword might, if it ever did. Special steel like that is hardly ever made these days.”

Lotto sat back astonished. “How do you know all of this?”

Mander replaced the sword and laid it on the table. He sat down and took the long knife out of its scabbard. “Even more silent.” He nodded. “I’ve spent most of my time outside of this shop, you know. A king’s counselor and I’ve been on an army campaign or two. I can show you my swords tonight. You’ll need some better clothes to dine with Anna, I think. We can come up with something suitable.”

Lotto realized that Mander had never invited him to his personal residence.

“My own weapon is more conventional. Nothing like this. These are heirlooms, but I’ll bet they’ve languished somewhere, neglected.”

“The grips need to be replaced and they came in an old worn wooden box with tattered velvet lining.”

“You trained today with the Serytar?”

“He owns the Golden Blade.”

“Yes, Kenyr. I know him. A good man… a very good man.” Mander folded his arms and smiled.

“He’s going to train me.”

“I know. I hired him after he suggested it.”

Lotto sat back astonished.

“I told him that you would be interested in that particular sword. I had to run out before you left to describe how you looked. He had those swords and wouldn’t have sold them for any price except to you.”

The sword, the older Serytar and Mander’s grin made everything click in his mind. “My father’s bodyguard!  He was younger then.”

“Eighteen years younger. Kenyr couldn’t return to Serytar and an acquaintance of your father helped him get established as a blade master in the city. He knew your parents and those were your father’s weapons. They traded both boots and weapons before he commanded Kenyr to leave to save you and the Moonstone from becoming the possession of Emperor Daryaku. I never understood why your father told Kenyr to toss the boots in the pond, but I know now. No one should have ever found it, but you were drawn to the stone. I’m convinced of it. Kenyr refused to join the king’s service, but I’ve enlisted his help on occasion.”

“It’s too much of a coincidence that we met!” Suddenly it all seemed too convenient.

“It is in a way. I had men observing you in the village from time to time, including Kenyr. Your transformation surprised us all. When your witch-friend and you bolted, I figured that you’d be heading to Beckondale where the Princess lived. I had you listed with the guard. When you came though the gate, I was immediately notified. You came in on a cart carrying fruit and I personally followed you from the market. If you hadn’t followed me to my shop, I would have turned around and sought you out. I truly did need a worker and that made bringing you into my clutches all the better. You’ve been a marvelous shop assistant, by the way. I say that in all honesty.” Mander laughed.

Lotto snapped. “I’m in your clutches?” This attention had overcome him. “You are playing me like a string puppet. I’m a slave. Leashed like a dog. You’ve peeped on me like a pervert!”

“Do you have any other metaphors?” The smile never left Mander’s face.

Lotto grabbed his hair with frustration and rocked in his chair. “I don’t know what a metaphor is!”

“Calm down. Listen Lotto, you can walk out that door with your swords and sell them to a proper armorer for enough to keep you fat and happy for a number of years in any small village in Valetan. Go ahead, I’ll not stop you. Or you can stay with me. I’ll employ you and teach you about the world. Fessano will make you into as much of a wizard as you desire to be and Kenyr will instruct you into becoming an accomplished swordsman. Leave at any time. No one will expect any pay. Kenyr’s instruction is freely given, even after I pleaded with him to pay for your training. He was a loyal bodyguard and held you in his arms when you were minutes old.”

Lotto couldn’t combat Mander’s reasonableness. The man remained calm as Lotto seethed with emotion. To know men watched him while in his former state upset him… but then he never knew they observed his antics and the old Lotto wouldn’t have cared at all.

“All right. I trust you. I certainly trust Kenyr. Fessano, not so much. I’ll continue and I do appreciate all that you have done for me. It’s easier being the village half-wit than facing all of what I’ve discovered.”

Mander nodded. “Knowledge brings a certain responsibility for one’s actions. That is a burden, for sure, but a good one. Let’s close up shop. We’ll have to go to my place first to get us both presentable enough for Lady Anna.

~

Restella lay back on her bed after her meal in the presence of the odious Louson. She didn’t trust the man at all and she couldn’t shake a feeling of something wrong.  She dressed and left the little room she had been given. She paced up the corridor, as restless as a nervous cat and noticed the faint flickering of candlelight under the Captain’s door.

Could she bother the Captain? He had hardly spoken to her. She shook her head. If she came as an aide, then she would perform the proper role. She knocked.

“Come.” The words came out clear and immediate. The Captain was awake but in a state of modest undress. He shrugged into his uniform jacket. “What has prompted my most junior lieutenant to bother me tonight?” The man didn’t expect off-duty formality.

“Something is wrong. Earl Louson isn’t bothered enough about the border incursions. He feels no threat. When I’ve seen him in court, he’s more nervous than he is today.”

“This is his keep, so I would expect him to be more in charge, but I think I know what you mean. Go find Silver and tell him to rouse a double watch.”

Why Silver? She didn’t question the Captain and put on her weapons and her boots back at her room. It didn’t matter, the captain gave her an order and she would carry it out.

The troops were camped outside the keep’s walls in a large open field. She looked for the wagons and found Silver chatting with a few other soldiers round a fire.  Most of the soldiers seemed to have found their bedrolls.  She still couldn’t shake off the feeling of wrongness.

“Silver!” Restella called from a few paces away.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” He straightened up and buttoned up his uniform jacket. Restella looked at the men at the fire a little irritated at the grins on their faces. They all appeared to be sergeants.

“Captain Shortwell has ordered a double watch. I—”

Silver put up his hand. “The order is good enough for me, ma’am. You don’t have to justify an order, just answer questions if anyone is unclear. I am very clear and will put half of the men on alert, if you agree. The other men and I were just talking about us all feeling a little itchy being out here, if you want to know the real truth.”

“Very well. If you must know, and you obviously don’t care, I feel ‘itchy’ as well. I’ll leave you to it. Don’t delay.”

“I won’t, ma’am.” He straightened up and saluted. The other sergeants were already on their feet. “You know what to do, men,” Silver said to them. “Do you need an escort to the keep?”

Restella shook her head and headed back towards her bed. She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but even laying down would give her some rest. As she came up to the door to the keep, the guards who had let her out had gone and the two large oaken doors were wide open.

The glow of campfires still lit up the field, but Restella decided that she’d forgo sleep and man the gates herself. Once Restella pushed the gates shut, she struggled with the door bar and took the stone steps up to the top of the wall.   She leaned against a flagpole and gazed out into the darkness. Glancing up at the sky, she noticed that no moon appeared to offset the darkness. As much as she wanted to report back to the captain, she would stay on the walk above the gate until the guards returned.

She ended up sliding down the side of a flagpole onto its base, just being able to peer over the battlement. Restella had no idea how much time had elapsed when she heard yelling coming from the camp. She began to rise when she heard the whistling of arrows with two of them hitting the flagpole above her, making it shiver.

The sounds of horses came closer and then curses as the riders milled about in front of the keep’s doors. A horn sounded in the distance and faint lights began to light up the keep windows. Restella heard metal scraping on the battlement and crawled over towards the sounds.   She took out her sword, feeling more powerful with it in her hand and began to hack at the ropes tied to grappling hooks.

Fighting began to break out in the courtyard as Shortwell’s officers began to fight Earl Louson’s guards.  The invaders began to climb up the walls when war horns began to blow closer. Fighting broke out below her as she fought by herself on the top of the keep’s wall. She didn’t have the time to do anything but fall into the rhythm of her sword. Part of her mind reacted to the attacks and another gagged at the carnage she inflicted on her enemy.