The Blackguard (Book 2) (25 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Matthynssens

BOOK: The Blackguard (Book 2)
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Alador took his time, despite the impatient sighing of his uncle.
 It wasn’t just to memorize the words his uncle had pointed at, he took the time to also commit to memory the adjoining page on the control of currents.  To further his time to memorize both spells, he looked up at Luthian.  

“I am sorry uncle, the words are in some sort of rhyme that I am having trouble keeping in rhythm in my head. What is this word?”
  He looked up helplessly at Luthian.

Luthian sighed with exasperation and looked to where he pointed. “Churn, that word is churn.”

“Ah yes. I almost have it.” He kept his finger on the spell that Luthian was seeking. He already had it committed to memory as he swiftly repeated the two spells back to back in his mind until he was sure he had them both.  When he got back to his room, he would transcribe them into his personal spellbook.  

Luthian was pacing as Alador worked to memorize the spell. He kept glancing over at Alador.
 Alador had a hard time not grinning as he would occasionally sigh in frustration just to solidify his struggles with the spell.

“Come Alador, it is not that complicated of a spell in its actual words.” Luthian finally moved to his side once more.

“I am sorry. I do not memorize well when pressured and well, your pacing is not helping.”  Alador looked up at Luthian innocently. “However, I think I have it.”

“It’s about time.” Luthian stated, not apologizing for his impatience.
 “Come, we will go see if you can do this.” He picked up the book and shoved it back into the cupboard, locking it securely before he led Alador outside.

Alador knew this was one of those spells that his father had encouraged him to falter.
 Luthian wanted him to learn it and seemed almost desperate to see it performed.  He considered the wording and what he could do to thwart his success without creating harm or being too obvious.  He spent the entire time they were walking thinking on how to do this.  Fortunately, Luthian’s impatience had led to no conversation as they moved through the mansion and outside.  His uncle’s long legs had Alador moving swiftly to keep up.  

Luthian led him to a pool at the center of the
mansion’s impressive gardens.  Alador was so lost in thought that he barely acknowledged where they were.   He looked around when they reached the pool.  It was a beautiful sight, the pool was completely surrounded by foliage.  The one day he had been able to wander the gardens, he had never seen it.  It was protected from curious eyes and the water looked warm and inviting.  

“I wish to see you form the spell here.”
 Luthian commanded. He moved to a chair and sat down, he waved Alador to the pool.

Alador looked at the pool and drew himself up proudly.
 He circled his hands as was described but faltered the rhyme.  Of course, nothing happened. He had chosen words that would not set a different spell off, fearing the consequences of such a failing.

“Churn Alador. I told you that the word was churn. Try again.” Luthian seemed on edge as he leaned forward from his chair watching.

“Oh yes.  Sorry uncle.”  Alador attempted to look quite contrite. This time, he did not use the hand motions but recited the spell perfectly. He was careful not to touch his center of power.

Luthian jumped up in exasperation. “You are being deliberately obtuse, Alador. You know the spell requires motion.” Luthian looked at Alador suspiciously.

“Uncle, you have never been so demanding of a spell. You are making me nervous.” Alador defended dropping his eyes in purposeful deference.

Luthian took a breath and clasped his hands behind. “You are right. I am excited to see your potential. I apologize.
 Try it again, but this time use words and motions.  Focus on the pool’s center.”

“Could you show me once?” Alador asked innocently.
 “It would be easier if you could show me.”

“If I could do that bloomin
g spell then I wouldn’t ne...” Luthian bit his words off and looked at Alador suspiciously.

“Wouldn’t need what, uncle?” Alador’s eyes were firmly fixed on Luthian. He suspected his uncle had been about to say ‘wouldn’t need you.’
 What was this spell for, that his uncle needed him to learn it so desperately?

“I wouldn’t need to wait forever for you to memorize it. We would have already been out here practicing it.”
 Luthian swift words countered smoothly, but Alador did not believe his swift response.

He dipped his head as he spoke. “I am sorry, uncle. I forget that being based in fire, that spells of water and weather are beyond you.”
 Though his words were innocently spoken, he knew full well that Luthian was frustrated that he had not been able to master water despite the many bloodstones he had absorbed.

“Try it again.” Luthian growled out plopping down in the chair without his usual grace.

Alador repeated the spell but barely touched his center. He managed to get the water swirling ever so slightly.  He held his face as if he was pulling greatly, purposefully holding a grimace.

Luthian had stood back up and moved to the pool's edge watching the very slow movement of the pool.
  “Well, at least it is a circle.”  Luthian glanced at Alador. “Are you sure you are using all your power?”  

When Alador looked over at his uncle, he purposefully dropped the spell. “Well, I was till you asked me a question.”
  He looked back at the water. “I am hungry.  Can we stop to eat?” He looked at back to Luthian.

Luthian threw up his hands in defeat. “I will have something sent out to you.
 Keep practicing and join me for dinner.”  He turned on his heel and strode off, disappearing into the foliage.

Alador chuckled softly and peeled off his clothes. He slipped into the pool with a sigh of pleasure.
 He spent the rest of his afternoon swimming, eating and enjoying the warm rays of fall.

Chapter Nineteen

 

Alador received word a couple weeks later that his father would be leaving Silverport after Alador’s next half-day.
 Henrick was overdue for his rounds in the Daezun villages. Henrick had also promised to stop and speak to the dragon about Pruatra and her possible whereabouts. Alador would much rather approach Renamaum’s mate than the red dragon he’d managed to repel from Smallbrook by shooting it in the throat; he couldn’t imagine any way the dragon would forgive him for that. If he had to approach Keensight, he’d likely just be blasted with flames.

W
hen the half-day came around, Alador headed out of the caverns.  He stopped by the ledge to watch the port below. It was raining again, but he still stood there staring at the high masts of the ships. Every once in a while, Alador had been assigned guard duty at the entrance to the cave; it was one of his favorite duties. When he stood guard, he could watch the ships. They fascinated him, and he’d sometimes daydream about what lay beyond the great isle. One day, he hoped to find out.

“You are a hard man to catch alone,” a soft voice whispered just behind him.

Alador jumped when he heard the man speak, spinning with his sword half-drawn. A man in a dark grey robe stood before him, the raised cowl of his matching cloak obscuring most of his features. The man’s hands were out and showed no weapons.

Alador was not in his armor, dressed instead in simple pants and a dark blue shirt. His black cloak was his only concession to his place in the guard, and he’d only
worn that because of the rain. “I find it unsafe to spend much time outside the company of others.” He glanced to his right and saw that the guards by the opening were watching him closely; Alador nodded to one that he knew and received a slight nod back. He slowly slid his sword back into its scabbard. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“I am Sordith, and what I want, well…That might be a bit difficult to explain.” He dropped his hands and stepped forward cautiously. “I wonder if you would consider having a drink with me. I assure you that I will pick an inn where there are many eyes, if you feel unsafe.” The man kept his hands where Alador could see them though they were more relaxed.

Alador looked about. They were not far from where the path to the caverns joined the busy streets of the third tier; it was true that there were few places to be caught alone. “I fail to see why I should take time out of my day to have a drink with a man who seems to know me, despite the fact that I don’t know him.” Alador wondered if these were the eyes he’d often felt on him.

“Let’s just say that I have a feeling that we might have a mutual need of one another,” Sordith answered. “Your call. I am going to walk away now. I will head to the Boar’s Head and take a table in the back corner. Either you’re interested in what I have to say or you’re not. I will tell you, though, that I will not approach you a second time.” When he finished speaking, the man spun and strode towards the main tier causeway, a place that was still busy with the midday markets.

Alador watched Sordith stride off for a long moment, considering, but his curiosity got the better of him. He knew the tavern that the man had spoken about – once in a while a few of the Blackguard would slip out in their free time to have a drink there. It was the closest place with ale and without the watchful eyes of those that held rank or instructed them. Alador slipped into the tavern not far behind the mysterious man and worked his way through the crowded tap room to a table in the back. He had to wonder, as busy as it was, how this man had a private table. It was set back in an alcove, with three short walls about it that offered a little privacy.

Alador slipped out of his cloak and hung it on a hook that was near this Sordith’s table, then slipped into a seat across from the man. Sordith had a very relaxed manner, but his eyes moved constantly, as someone who was used to watching, and he had his back to the wall – easy in this particular location. “All right. You have my curiosity. What is this about?”

“The Trench Lord,” Sordith said softly. “In the last few months since your arrival, his mind has not been on business. He follows your every move, and he doesn't see to the matters he should be. In fact, profits are slipping, and I find this most displeasing to my pockets,” he continued smoothly. He fell silent as a barmaid slipped two mugs before them. Sordith took a drink from one then passed it to Alador. “In case you are worried I am going to poison you.”

Alador blinked in surprise; even as the woman sat the mugs down, he’d already decided he would not be drinking anything the man offered. He pulled the mug before him with a nod of thanks. “How do you know that Aorun is following my every move?” he asked softly, absently swirling the contents of his mug. The words ‘Trench Lord’ always made him cautious, like he was sensing the presence of Trelmar all over again.

“Because I am one of the ones he sent to follow you,” Sordith answered with a shrug. “I follow you on your half-days to see where you go and who you meet up with. In all honesty, you’re really the most boring fellow.” Sordith grinned and took a deep pull from his mug, his eyes darting around the room again as he set it back on the table.

Alador held his mug between his hands. “I knew someone was following me.” He looked up from the mug to Sordith. “Did I even come close to spotting you?”

“Couple times. You gave me the slip once, but you sort of stand out amongst most of the fourth and fifth tier mages.” Sordith sat back watching Alador.

“Have we met? You look oddly familiar.” Alador looked at Sordith with just as much scrutiny. The man had black hair and his eyes were a strange copper color. He was clearly not Daezun, but he looked familiar. Alador pushed the mug away slightly as he eyed Sordith.

“Not on purpose. If you’ve spotted me, you didn’t let on and I attempted to blend.”

“Maybe that’s it. You just remind me of someone.” Alador tried to picture all the mages on the tiers he had met, but not one seemed quite right.

“I have a rather common face, I am told.” Sordith shrugged. “Let’s talk bluntly. I swore my loyalty to Aorun as the Trench Lord. However, his time seems to be nearing to an end and, as such, I plan to pick those I choose to work with carefully. You keep your word and you don’t seem to play the typical backstabbing games of those seeking to increase in power. No one in the Blackguard has anything unkind to say about you other than your peculiar friendship with a death mage. You have good taste in women and you treat them well. As such, I think there are some things that you can help me with and I suspect that soon you might have need of my skills.”

Alador was surprised at this man’s perception of him. He really didn’t have much to say about himself, and when he did, it usually wasn’t nice. To hear another speak of him so well was like hearing about a totally different man. “I fail to see how I can be of any help to you, and the only help I can think of needing is a warning should Aorun finally try to kill me on his own.”

Sordith grinned. “Yes, I heard that Maxis failed quite horribly to kill you properly. Need not worry about him. Aorun does not suffer failure lightly and, well, let’s just say that the man’s last report ended abruptly.” Sordith eyed Alador. “Aorun will come for you when he feels his time is right. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for, to be honest, unless it was Maxis’ failure. This is the longest I have ever seen him take in removing someone he has taken a hatred towards.”

“Why are you telling me all of this? If you have sworn an oath, you are clearly breaking it now,” Alador pointed out. He was uncomfortable with this discussion and its implications. He shifted about, looking for others, wondering if this was a trap.

“Aorun promised to keep me out of certain business he was in, and, for the most part, he has done so. However, I recently learned he has been selling Lerdenian women into slavery.” Sordith put up a hand as Alador opened his mouth. “Now, before you say that you’re not Lerdenian and it’s not your problem, he sells your people too. I don’t like slavery. The ones that end up in the Blackguard, well, they have a good enough lot. However, I’ve been digging around, and the pure-blooded Daezun and Lerdenians have a different fate.” Sordith’s expression was grim.

Alador’s eyes widened at the idea that someone could sell another being. He knew slavery existed – for all
intents and purposes, Keelee wasn’t much more than a slave, herself, but at least she had a choice. He felt something rise up in him, cold and dangerous, at the thought of anyone being forced to serve another. The same thing was happening to the dragons, tied down and forced to a life that was not natural to them. Alador leaned forward. “You have my attention,” he growled out. His hands wrapped around the base of his mug.

Sordith had been watching him closely. “I see you like the idea about as much as I do. I need your help. If you cannot, then all I ask is that you forget that this conversation happened.”

“What do you need?” Alador’s tone was cold. His vision swam with the images of staked-out dragons, and he was hard-pressed to keep the pressure of Renamaum’s rage in check. He absently turned the mug in his hands.

“I thought maybe you could get us in, and I would go as your bodyguard. As the High Minister’s nephew, I am sure that the Stable Lord will be proud to show off his success to you and, as such, would give us both access to kill him. With me there, it will give the added look of legitimacy – I have stood with the Trench Lord as he made these transactions. Coming with you would only add the appearance of legitimacy,” Sordith answered.

“A stable lord?” Alador asked with confusion. “I don’t understand. What does a stable lord have to do with selling people?”

“It is a breeding stable, Alador. A breeding stable for people. They’re making half-breeds for the High Minister’s special army.” Sordith’s lip curled at the thought. “There is one small matter in addition.”

“What is that?” Alador was stunned by this news. His mind raced over questions – Did his uncle know? Was he aware of what this Stable Lord was doing? He had to be. There was little in the city that was going on that Luthian did not know. His eyes returned to Sordith as he finished his drink to answer.

“The Stable Lord, Veaneth, has some ability to take away the will of another. I thought with your training in magic, you might be able to protect us somehow. I have no skills in magic; mine are in a swift dagger and a sharp eye.” Sordith kept his voice low so that only the two of them could hear.

“What about other guards?” Alador was taking to his lessons well, and his father had given him a further edge in their private sessions. He knew that Sordith was right. If this was happening with his uncle’s approval, Alador would probably be able to waltz right in, unless Veaneth had been directed to refuse him entry

“Never more than ten that I’ve been able to count. If we plan right, we can have Veaneth down before the rest are even aware there’s a problem. If we plan really well, perhaps we could even kill him and slip back out before the others know.” Sordith was using the table as a vague floor plan.

“One problem,” Alador answered thoughtfully.

“What is that?” Sordith eyed Alador. He was clearly not a man to disregard another’s views.

“We’re not leaving those who’ve been enslaved; they’ll just put someone new in charge,” Alador pointed out. “Ten might be a bit much for just two of us.”

Sordith frowned. “I can take out maybe six after we drop Veaneth. Surely with your recent training and magic you could manage three or four?”

“I have a better idea,” considered Alador softly.

“Oh? What do you have in mind?”

“We bring a death mage.” Alador grinned slowly. “One that’s rather good at silencing those that might set off an alarm.”

“Do you think he would come? Do you trust him?” Sordith sat back, considering. “I mean, I know for a fact that Aorun has men in the Blackguard.”

“I know this, too, but Jon is not one of them.” Alador was certain of this.

“All right then.” Sordith slowly nodded. “When do you want to put this dog down?” He asked softly.

“At my next half-day when I am supposed to visit my father. He’ll be out of the area, but I haven’t told my afternoon instructors that yet.” In fact, he’d had every intention of going every week unless someone found out that his father was out of the city, only because he’d wanted to have a night alone. No Keelee, no merrymaking classmates and no homework. Just a day where he could relax or read from his father’s fantastic library.

“So, in a week? That will give me time to put into additional scouting and to see if there are any better times of the day to hit him. Where should I meet you?” Sordith seemed to already be calculating.

“Do you know where the mage Henrick, my father, lives?” Alador asked, also making his own plans. He had much to do if he was going to try to use his magic in battle. One thing was to ask his father to teach him how to protect against this power Veaneth apparently had.

“I follow you every week. So yes, I know where he lives.” Sordith grinned, his eyes strangely warm considering his position as one of Aorun’s men.

Alador sighed. “Yes, don’t remind me. I’ll meet you there, then. It will give our visit more legitimacy if the Trench Lord’s man comes properly and not scooting about like some ghost.”  Alador eyed the man. His copper eyes were a little unnerving.

“Ghost. I like that term.” Sordith drained his mug. “Best we not be seen too long together. I can explain away a short encounter. I will see you in a week.”

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