The Arcanist (8 page)

When she had first come here, fleeing a marriage she didn't want and could not have survived, she had been impressed by the land's softness. It had struck her as wondrous that a land could be so peaceful. That women would not be given to rival houses as hostages for peace. But she had also thought it was weak. Against those who pursued her – those who would have brought her all the way back home to be punished and executed – these people would not have stood a chance. And she was being hunted – by her own sister.

That was why she had become a handmaiden. She needed a protector, and none of these weak fools could have done the job. At least so she had thought. But the two brothers suggested that maybe she had been wrong. They were nobles with surely many house guards they could call upon. Skilled in weapons, and noble of heart. Maybe they could have protected her – though never as well as Tyrel. Of course only the Honoured Mother would have protected a woman alone.

Besides, Imogenia the hamadryad whose temple she'd first run to when she'd fled Edin had transported her all the way here in the blink of an eye. A thousand leagues or more, in a heartbeat. She had done so much more for her. She had helped her to master her gift. Introduced her to so many others of her people who had also fled here. Had her trained in many of the arts and sciences that a woman in Tenarri was not expected to learn. She had even brought her news of her family. Kyriel owed the hamadryad a debt she could never fully repay.

A sudden snorting pulled Kyriel's thoughts back to her handmaiden sister, and she suddenly realised that Mara was standing there in front of the great beast, allowing it's trunk to explore her. A trunk that was far larger than she was. Still, she seemed confident and the beast didn't seem upset as it explored her. It was even letting her stroke its sensitive trunk, enjoying the attention.

“Anything?”

“No.” Mara shook her head carefully. “The beast knew nothing. It was just grazing the tundra with the rest of the herd. They heard a sound, a crag cat maybe, and they stampeded. Then they were here.”

Kyriel was disappointed. Unfortunately it was exactly what they'd expected. Mammoths were very simple animals, mostly concerned with grazing and following the rest of the herd. When one panicked they all panicked. And then they ran. Still, she'd hoped for something to be able to tell the Mother. After all, the opening of a portal of that size with the ends separated by a thousand leagues or more, required powerful magic. It wasn't the sort of thing a spark like Edouard, or probably even a flame could do. It spoke of something more than a mortal caster. But did that mean there was another power involved? She didn't know. Maybe Tyrel would.

She did know though that the king, a short round man with a permanently worried look on his face from what she had seen in the distance, had been right to send Edouard and Marcus to see the Mother. Tyrel needed to know of what had happened. And the Mother had been right to send them back with the brothers to investigate. Maybe if they were clever enough and quick enough, they could also send the Mother a copy of the documents that Edouard had had the guards carry to the king. The preliminary results of his investigations she guessed. And by the looks of things, a map. Maybe he knew where the mammoths had been sent from. He was a clever man.

Edouard she was beginning to realise, could be useful.

“You know the mammoths will have to be taken to higher ground.”

Kyriel nodded in agreement with her sister. They'd understood that from the moment the Mother had sent them on this journey. The beasts could not stay in the city since sooner or later they'd either cause trouble or someone would try to kill them. In either case there was a risk to the women and children of the city and, looking at it, the city did not seem to be in any sort of shape to deal with another stampede.

“The only suitable place is the high plateau, fifteen leagues north of here, and the mammoths will not hurry.”

“I know.” Kyriel sighed, knowing Mara was only saying what they had already known to be true. Mammoths were slow moving creatures, provided they weren't frightened or angry. And they liked to eat as they wandered, slowing them down even more. Fifteen leagues could be covered by a woman on foot in a single day if she hurried. But for a herd of perhaps two hundred mammoths, walking and grazing, it would be at least a week. A week while they'd have to stay in Therion. Staying in Edouard's funny looking fort too and travelling out to the herd each morning. Spending the night anywhere near the mammoths was likely to be a foolish mistake that would get them killed. Staying in the fort was not something she was looking forward to. It reminded her too much of her family's old home. Too ready for an attack.

Still, what had to be had to be. They could not leave the beasts to cause more mayhem in the city, perhaps killing and injuring more women and children. Tyrel would not countenance that. And perhaps it would be a chance to learn more of the spark. More of why Edouard had acted against the Mother's wishes. It was almost as if he believed her to be in the wrong. As if he had been listening to the tall tales of the ale soaked bards. Granted, perhaps his transgressions were small, but still they should not have happened.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

She was ready. Kyriel could see the little red crystal around Mara's neck glowing gently and she knew that the bond had been formed. The mammoth would obey her sister now.

“Could everyone step back please.” Kyriel quickly had the guards backing away and then took her own advice as she watched Mara start leading the mammoth toward the gate. The huge beast seemed remarkably calm as it followed her, though it was clearly in no hurry. But that was probably a good thing. The only time mammoths were in a hurry was when they were stampeding in panic.

A few minutes later Mara had walked the mammoth through the gate and was leading it toward the empty fields beyond. The little amulet together with Mara's talent were working in harmony just as Tyrel had promised them. But even as she watched the two of them pass her Kyriel knew it was only a beginning.

Looking back across the city she could see at least another score of the great beasts grazing peacefully, and there were likely at least another hundred or so of them spread out through the rest of the town. Every one of them would have to be led quietly out of the city like the first.

It was going to be a long day.

◄►

“What have you found little brother?”

Edouard looked up to see his oldest brother Simon standing in front of him, and was somewhat taken aback. Simon seldom visited him. Even if he'd cared for family matters Edouard was too far down the family pecking order for him to bother with. But more surprising still, he looked serious for once, perhaps even concerned. Missing was the usual larcenous grin and calculating stare he generally had as he looked to make a profit from whatever was going on. Maybe some of his properties and businesses had been destroyed in the stampede. Edouard could but hope.

Simon was the first born of the children and had been raised from the start to become the next Count Severin, the next Lord of House Barris. Naturally he dressed accordingly. So where Edouard was wearing his neatest casual attire, Simon was outfitted in the very best finery money could buy. Today he wore a dark suit that looked as though it had just come from the tailor’s shop together with a spotless white shirt that had been bleached and starched to within an inch of its life. Attached to his waistcoat Edouard could see a gold fob-watch and chain polished so that they shone like the sun. He was even wearing a top hat.

To say it seemed wrong in the midst of this catastrophe would have been an understatement and then some. But that was Simon's way. In everything. He wore his finery for all to see; always. It was the same way he kept his home. His estate wasn't just the largest in the city; it was the grandest. The marble was washed every few months, the slates too. The extensive gardens were always immaculate. Even the gates leading to it were polished until they shone. And of course wherever he went he travelled in style.

In the distance behind him Edouard could see his shining black open topped carriage with its driver and the four white horses waiting for him. Simon's home was an easy walk at less than a quarter of a league from where they stood. But he could never do such a thing. He could never be seen walking in the street like a commoner. He could never ride like one either. His carriage Edouard was certain, was open topped so that people could see him as he rode in style.

That vanity and greed came at a cost though. In due course Simon would take over from their father as the head of the House. If he had proven himself worthy as everyone had hoped he would – he would also have assumed his father's role as the Left Hand to the king in time. But he had angered almost everyone with his arrogance, and openly besmirched the family name with his insatiable greed and complete lack of morality and Edouard knew the latter was no longer a possibility. He would never become the next Left Hand. Edouard also knew that it would be a bad day for the entire family if and when Simon became the new Count Severin. He had already done the family so much harm.

As a young man he had embarrassed the family by trying to curb the House's donations to the poor, going against generations of tradition. It seemed that he considered charity nought but an unwanted expense, and the reputation of the House less important than the gold they would save. Then Simon had embarrassed them further when he had advocated that honorary positions such as the Left Hand to the king should be compensated for. Noblesse oblige was not something he understood. Edouard had been young at the time, merely a boy, but he still remembered seeing his father having to give a formal apology to the king and his court after that. He remembered in particular the look on his father's face as he'd spoken. Shame. Overwhelming shame.

Later, when Simon had been entrusted with some of the books as the heir apparent to the family's trading concern, he had miscalculated the annual tax bill the family owed by quite a large margin and naturally he had been caught. He had done it by simply declaring that a lot of their income in Therion had actually been made in the thirteen other realms the House traded in, and the tax paid there. It was an obvious lie. So obvious that sometimes Edouard had wondered if he'd done it deliberately, intending to get caught. If he'd done it specifically to embarrass the house. But still his father had paid the coin back and in keeping with the traditions of honour, another half again. That had been a lean financial year and of course there had been more formal apologies.

After that King Byron like the rest of the city had realised that Simon was far too greedy to ever be trusted with a position of responsibility and any hope he might ever have had of obtaining a high position had been lost. He would never be the next Left Hand nor attain any other high position within the realm. Not that Simon cared. There was no gold in the titles.

Their father though had still had faith in him. He had hoped that this branch of the tree would straighten in time. But was that just foolish hope? Edouard thought so. Because when Simon had stolen his mother’s own divorce settlement leaving her destitute, even that hope had to have been crushed. Now Th'yssen lived as a ward of the family, divorced from their father like the rest of his wives, but unlike them forced to live on his charity. The rest of the ex-wives stayed in the manor to look after their children. But they could have lived elsewhere had they wished. Th'yssen no longer had that choice.

Simon's crimes against the family had of course been hushed up. They had to be; it was a matter of keeping the family name and that of the house above reproach. Besides, when all was said and done he was the eldest son and the laws of primogeniture said he would one day become the head of the house regardless of his misdeeds. Edouard did not look forward to that day. But it was still destined. Simon had not transgressed so far that their father could disown him.

Still, some claimed that he had mended his ways these past years. Personally Edouard doubted it. He suspected he had just become better at hiding his crimes. Since being kicked out of the house he had bought his own business; another trading concern that rivalled that of the House of Barris. Actually it was a lot larger than theirs and operated in far more than just fourteen realms and cities. But his business was not simple trade like that of the house. It encompassed gambling, drinking, prostitution and any other vices that men engaged in. He owned or part owned most of the brothels, gaming houses, inns and alehouses in Theria. He supplied most of the ale and cider they served.

Some said he also traded on the local black market. Others said that he more or less owned the black market. That many of the traders secretly worked for him. But he kept his name out of the purview of the justices, and his wealth was such that even the king had to accept him in the court. Many other nobles were actually said to be seeking his favour, and some were looking at buying it with the hands of their daughters. He was considered a good suitor for any house down on its luck.