Prelude to Fire: Parts 1 and 2 (4 page)

“No,” he said softly.

He glanced over to the table as the door opened behind him, but Jayna was gone.

“
Y
ou should shave
,” Alice told Lacertin.

He touched his chin and twirled a few strands of hair together. The beard had grown thick and full, and there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to leave it. “You don’t care for it?” he asked. Lacertin sat before a crackling fire, and unlike Alice, his feet rested firmly on the ground. A steaming cup of ale rested in his hands, brought to him once a few warriors realized he was back in Ethea.

Alice was a bold woman and wore clothing to match. She had on bright red pants and a frilly blue shirt that clung to her chest. He couldn’t help the way that it drew his gaze, even if he knew how she’d react. “You’re prettier without all that,” she waved a hand in his direction, “hair.”

“You object to hair?” Veran leaned against the wall, considering Lacertin with a measured expression. His eyes were a light blue like so many from Vatten, and a thin band of leather pulled his long, blond hair off his shoulders.

“When it’s like that?” Alice asked, pointing a finger toward Lacertin’s chin. “Yes.”

Lacertin shook his head. He hadn’t seen where Jayna had disappeared to, and when the door to the library had opened, Veran had been on the other side. Of course, he had come looking for the group of students he’d left in the student library. Not the master’s library, as Lacertin had thought. He’d felt too foolish for the error to say anything about Jayna to him.

“Tell me about Incendin,” Lacertin said. Sitting with other warrior shapers, he finally felt the exit of some of the tension that he’d been carrying since returning to Ethea. His shoulders began to relax and the nerves clenching his belly eased. Some of that might be the ale, he realized, but some might have to do with the fact that he was here, with others serving the same purpose, if not in the same way.

“Ach,” Alice said, disgust in her voice. “There’s nothing about Incendin worth discussing.”

“I heard about Pherah and Roln.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed and she nodded slowly. She turned to the fire. “Incendin continues to attack. What more is there to tell you, Lacertin? Would you have me tell you how two of our best were drawn across the barrier? Or would you hear how they were set upon by a half dozen lisincend and then left for the hounds while the shapers with them were forced to watch from the safety of this side of the barrier?”

Veran pulled a short knife from a sheath at his waist and began running it along his thumbnail as Alice spoke. “The barrier holds, but at what cost? I know it’s dear to you, but our shapers are constantly attacked. We can’t hold it forever, Lacertin.”

“It’s not that it’s dear to me,” Lacertin said. He sipped the ale, letting it warm the insides of his mouth, trailing down into his stomach.

Alice turned toward him and rested a hand on his leg. “I know how much you have invested in the barrier. It’s stemmed the tide of the war, giving us a chance to regroup, but the maintenance is… difficult. We have to leave shapers stationed along the border just to maintain it!”

He thought about the last words that Ilton had said to him, possibly the last words that he ever would. “Isn’t that worth it for peace?”

“Do we have peace?” Veran asked. “Incendin tests the borders. They manage to cross even though we continue to fortify the barrier—”

“It will be strengthened with each additional shaper,” Lacertin said. “And it will not take strength to maintain, only to create.”

“Will it?” Alice asked. “Pherah and Roln thought the barrier would protect them.”

“That’s not fair, Alice,” Veran said. He held his knife out toward the fire, where the light gleamed off the blade. “They went where their king directed. They should have been able to manage six lisincend.”

“Ilton sent them?” Lacertin asked.

“Not Ilton,” Alice said.

“Then not their king,” Lacertin said. He scratched a hand through his beard. Maybe Alice was right that he should shave.

“You’ll have to get used to Althem leading,” Veran said. “You may not always love him, but he will be king. With as quickly as the king has declined, it will be soon.”

“It’s not Althem,” he said softly. Veran arched a brow and Lacertin shrugged. The cold relationship he shared with Theondar was no secret, but he really should do a better job masking it, especially if he intended to be of use when Ilton passed. Lacertin took another sip of ale, letting it work its way down his throat before he answered. “I serve the throne.”

Alice shook her head. “The throne. How very magnanimous of you.” She leaned back in her chair and glanced over at Veran. Her eyes lingered on him a moment, and then she turned back to Lacertin. “Where have you been while the realm has been attacked, Lacertin? What task did King Ilton assign to his First Warrior?”

He didn’t miss the note of irritation in her voice, nor had he missed the way she’d spoken about Pherah and Roln. Could she blame him? Would it have mattered had he been here? Another warrior might have mattered, but would it have mattered enough to protect two of the kingdoms’ most talented?

Doubtful. Lacertin’s time had been better spent trying to find the ancient device for Ilton, even if he still didn’t know what it did. Maybe only the archivists would know,
could
know.

When he didn’t answer, Veran slipped his knife back into the sheath. “Likely something important, wasn’t it, Lacertin? What’s he asked you to do in the past? I remember a pact with the Chenir leader, then there was the time you were to ferry two shapers from Doma. Or how about the time when he asked you meet quietly with the leaders of Xsa—”

“Yes, we all know that Lacertin is quite important,” Alice said. “Tell me, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Only that if he was gone for months, then there was some important task assigned to him by the king. Since many of the tasks that I know about involve negotiations of some sort, I would assume that he had been sent on some similar assignment.”

Alice reached across and touched the ends of Lacertin’s beard. “My shaggy friend would suggest otherwise.”

Veran smiled. “You might be right. Where could he have gone where he would need to let himself go? There isn’t
anyplace
where Lacertin might be sent, is there?”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Ilton wouldn’t risk Lacertin there.”

“No? But he’s sent him to Xsa.”

“They’re at least trade partners,” Alice said.

“They weren’t before he sent him.”

Lacertin raised the hand holding the ale and shook his head. “Enough. He didn’t send me to Norilan.”

He was impressed that either of them had ever heard of Norilan. It was a large country, and one mostly of ice and snow, but separated from the kingdoms and the rest of the continent by leagues of the sea. Few even remembered that it existed. Fewer still would attempt to reach it.

Lacertin only knew of Norilan because of his time in the archives. That, and because Ilton once
had
asked him to make the journey. He claimed they would be able to find help in Norilan, and that Lacertin could reach it on a shaping much easier than the fleet sailing out of Vatten could ever hope to reach.

And Lacertin had gone, fulfilling the duty his king asked of him. It was in Norilan that he learned of the barrier. Their shapers had something similar, though theirs was constructed of ice and water, using shapings so complex that Lacertin would never have managed to master them. He could still remember the way the cloud of cold and shaped air had pushed against him, blocking his access to the country.

Alice looked over at him, studying him with brown eyes, before shaking her head. “Right. Because why would Ilton want to seek help from a nation hidden from the rest of the world for centuries?”

“And one where there are known to be shapers?” Veran asked.

Lacertin leaned forward. “How do you know there are shapers in Norilan?”

Veran smiled. “You grow up in Vatten, you hear stories. Fishermen who take their ships too far away from our shores, risking more than they should, and coming across nothing but ice. Wind shapers with the fleet, unable to reach coordinates they know exist on the map.” Veran’s smile deepened and he looked at Alice. “And warriors unable to cross the sea.”

Alice turned sharply to him, and he shrugged. “I won’t deny that I’ve tried reaching Norilan. I’m from Vatten. Water shaping is in my blood. If there are those who know how to shape better than me, I would learn from them. Tell me, Lacertin, have you
never
considered making the crossing to Incendin? Have you never wanted to learn the secrets of the Fire Fortress?”

“I have learned all that I need from the university,” Lacertin said defensively.

Veran laughed. “You might as well ask Theondar if he had ever considered leaving the palace. The man loves his luxury.”

“I don’t blame Theondar for his service to Althem,” Lacertin said. Alice pursed her lips and shot him a look that told how little she believed the comment. “His time will come sooner than I would like, and then he will be the First Warrior.”

Alice sniffed. “Perhaps you’re right. And perhaps you didn’t venture to Norilan. That doesn’t answer where you’ve been. If it wasn’t to secure some secret truce, then what
did
Ilton ask of you?”

Lacertin’s hand went to his pocket and he traced the runes on the box through the fabric of his cloak. He’d spent so much time searching, following the directions coded into one of the texts given to Ilton by the archivists, that he struggled to explain.

Yet he needed to have help, especially if he was to understand the intent of the plates, or why they had been placed throughout the kingdoms. What purpose would the ancient shapers, those with shaping ability that exceeded his own, have for keeping the parts separated?

Without the archivists, he wouldn’t know. Without leaving them with Ilton, he might not know. But he’d sacrificed too much to simply lose them without understanding what they were, and without knowing that whatever power they possessed would be used to help Ilton. That was why he needed Anna.

“He sent me throughout the kingdoms,” Lacertin answered.

Veran’s face fell. “That is all? You were gone for what? Three months? And you return telling us that he sent you throughout the kingdoms? It seems to me that you could have served better in Ethea if that were the case.”

“You could even take up your old quarters,” Alice suggested. “Theondar might not appreciate having you so close by, but I think he’ll get over it. Maybe you can help show him how to serve his king when Althem assumes the throne.”

“Althem has essentially assumed the throne already,” Lacertin said. “And I’m not certain there’s anything that I could do to help Theondar, or that he would listen if there were.”

Lacertin wondered if he would even be able to stay within Ethea once Althem began his reign. Theondar would lead the warriors, and what would he do? What would Lacertin be relegated to once Theondar led them?

He pushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter. He served the throne, not the man sitting atop it, and not the First Warrior. It had been easy when that had been
him
, but what happened when it was not? After all these years, would he really be able to follow another’s lead, especially Theondar’s?

As he took another sip of ale, forcing the hot liquid down his throat, he tried to convince himself that he would.

T
he streets
around the palace were quieter than he remembered. Was that because of Ilton’s illness, or was there another reason for it? Lacertin made his way along the streets, the plates heavy in his pocket, debating whether to return to the palace.

If he did, he could search for Anna. She might know something more about what he’d been asked to find. Ilton trusted her more than anyone else, so Lacertin
should
go to her, only how could he reach her? The princess wouldn’t be willing to see him, would she? Especially not as she mourned her father.

But he knew of nowhere else to go. He could take the plates to the archives, but there was no guarantee that anyone there would know what to do with them either, and he would find it easier to reach Ilton’s quarters again than to find his chief archivist advisor.

That left Ilianna.

He’d made a point of keeping his distance from her since Theondar started courting her. What would she say to him when he went to her, asking for help? Would she offer it willingly, or would she look at him with the same expression she wore the last time he’d seen her, the one that told him that she knew what might have been?

Did it matter? Lacertin had made his choice. It was the same choice that he’d made over and again, serving Ilton with the same devotion. There could be no doubting his loyalties, not like so many from Nara.

He’d changed clothes and trimmed his beard, choosing not to shave completely. The months with it had given him a certain affection for the beard, and there was a part of him that preferred that others might not recognize him.

He reached the doors to the palace and stopped inside. The servants moved in something like a dance, stepping quickly from one place to the next in complete coordination. Lacertin watched for a moment before turning away and looking for Bren. The old master of servants had helped him with Ilton; perhaps he would help him find Ilianna as well.

There was no sign of Bren, only the pair of shapers standing watch at the bottom of the stairs who eyed him with suspicion. Lacertin waited, considering descending to the lower level and the rooms he still had there, but for what purpose? Would he wait until he had some sign of Ilianna? Would he wait until Bren came to him? How would any of that help Ilton?

Lacertin touched his pocket, feeling the plates within. He couldn’t keep them to himself. That hadn’t been why Ilton wanted him to obtain them. But without Ilianna, that meant he would need to find Ilton’s archivist advisor. With as frail as Ilton already had become, it was time that he did. That was the reason he’d returned, wasn’t it?

“You’ve returned.”

Lacertin turned and saw Theondar watching him from the end of the hall. He wore an elegant green jacket and his warrior sword hung from his waist as if he always had been meant to carry it. Theondar was as skilled a shaper as Lacertin, so it was quite possible that the Great Mother
had
intended him to carry it.

Theondar started toward him. “One visit wasn’t enough? Nast noted you shaping while you were with Ilton. Do you think to attempt another?”

He should have known that someone would be paying attention to him while he was with Ilton. There were said to be ways to mask shaping, but he hadn’t learned them. “The
king
,” he said, emphasizing the title, “does not need me to disturb him any longer.”

Not until he discovered why he’d been asked to obtain the plates. Then he would go to Ilton and see if there might be anything that he could do to help him. Theondar would likely not share where to find the princess, not to Lacertin.

“No? Then why
have
you returned?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and controlled his breathing. “Tell me what you know of the attack on the border,” he said.

Theondar tipped his head to the side. “That’s what you care about? Roln and Pherah are gone. We have lost others to Incendin—”

“At the same time?” Lacertin asked.

“Why does it matter? The barrier is nearing completion and then we will have peace from Incendin.”

The barrier. Once, it had seemed like the answer, but if warriors died because they relied on it, could they ever truly depend on it? “Tell me what you know of the attack.”

Theondar waved a hand and made as if to walk past him. “Find out from another. Althem expects me—”

Lacertin grabbed his sleeve. “Tell me, Theondar, does Ilton still live?”

Theondar jerked his arm away. “You know that he does.”

“Who serves as First Warrior?”

Theondar’s eyes narrowed. “Is that the way you want this to go?” Theondar asked.

Lacertin wished that there was another way. The moment that Ilton passed, Althem would fully assume the throne, and then Theondar would be named First Warrior. Lacertin would have to make a choice of whether he would serve, and how. Antagonizing Theondar now would not help him.

Lacertin sighed. “I only want to know what happened to our warriors,” he said.

“Ours? You remain away from Ethea for months, unaware of how two of
our
warriors are injured along the border with Incendin, injured where the barrier
should
have been secure, and you claim to sit among us?” He laughed bitterly. “You have set yourself apart from us for so long, almost as if you believe the stories of the great Lacertin.”

“You don’t understand. I haven’t set myself apart—”

“No? Then stand with us. Fight Incendin with us.” Theondar glanced along the hall, but the servants who had been there had mostly disappeared, unwilling to get between the two warriors. “Listen, Lacertin, we might not have always gotten along, but your talent alone could mean the difference in this war. Haven’t you ever considered that?”

He swallowed. That had been the hardest part of leaving on Ilton’s missions. They meant that he left others to the fighting. He didn’t long for battle, but he recognized that the more warriors who fought on behalf of the kingdoms meant that they were that much closer to the end of the war. Had he not been off searching for the plates, he might have been able to help Roln and Pherah.

Or maybe nothing would have changed. Perhaps he was thinking himself more powerful than he was.

“I’ve gone where Ilton has asked, much like you will go where Althem asks when you serve as First.”

Theondar sniffed. “And you’ve never stopped to counsel Ilton on whether you
should
go? Isn’t that the role of the First Warrior as well? Not blindly following orders.”

“I’ve not gone blindly.”

Theondar smiled. “No? Then you agree that you needed to be gone the last few months? Time when Incendin has increased their attacks? Time when we’ve lost two warriors and over a dozen shapers.” He paused and considered Lacertin. “You didn’t know that, did you? It’s not only our warriors that fall, but how many more shapers must die?”

Lacertin didn’t know what to say. There was no argument to make. He had been gone when the kingdoms needed him, but he’d been gone at Ilton’s command.

And for what? Plates created by shapers from centuries ago that may or may not have the power to restore the king?

Then what?

Theondar shook his head. “You may think me harsh, and you might not care for me, but I
do
care for the kingdoms. I have fought—and bled—for these lands. That’s what it means to be a warrior.”

With that, Theondar turned and left Lacertin standing alone in the entrance to the palace.