The Consuls of the Vicariate (31 page)

O
n the way back to the Shimmering Dawn headquarters, Laedron considered the possible existence of The Bloodmyr Tome. He’d never heard of such a thing before, but given all the things that had come to pass, he wasn’t prepared to dismiss the possibility outright. On the contrary, he presumed that such a book could and probably did exist.
Farrah Harridan. How does she fit into this?
Is she
merely someone who came across a loose-tongued Uxidin, or has she found the tome and used it for her fantastical stories?

“We’d better discuss the trip,” Laedron said, when they were all in the common room.

Once everyone sat around the table, Laedron stood at the end and said, “Any thoughts as to what—” The door flew open, startling Laedron until he saw Jurgen come through. “Ah, you’re back.”

“Of course,” Jurgen replied, coming closer. “I told you that I would return this evening. Have you learned anything from the Arcanists?”

“Before we go over that, I must tell you something. Whatever you did to save my life has done something to me. It’s changed me.”

Worry crossed Jurgen’s face. “Changed you?”

“I can’t sleep, yet I feel refreshed and eager. What spell—miracle—did you perform on me?”

“The restoration miracle,” Jurgen replied with a shrug. “It is designed to repair all of your wounds and remove anything hindering you.”

“That would explain why the wine had no effect,” Laedron said, glancing at Valyrie. He cleared his throat when she looked away. “No matter. I can’t sleep at all.”

“I apologize, but the injury was too severe to treat without the stone.” Jurgen took a deep breath. “The stone seemed to make the miracle easier to perform, too. Almost effortless, in fact.”

Laedron eyed him for a moment, thinking about Ismerelda’s scepter and the ruby set in its end.
I find spells easier to cast with that rod, too
.
Does that gem also contain the essence of someone? Something? Ah, I can’t even say what’s wrong with me, let alone determine what that ruby may possess
.

“Is something bothering you?” Jurgen asked.

“No. Let’s move on. You asked about the meeting with the Arcanists?” Receiving a nod from Jurgen, Laedron continued, “Demetrius Hale was little help, but he did send us to speak to Cedric Tamden, a reclusive man spending far too much time in the library cellar.”

“I see. What did Cedric have to say?”

“He seems to be convinced that we must find one Farrah Harridan, the author of an untitled book. Valyrie thinks the woman is somewhere in the south of Lasoron.”

“What do you think, Laedron?” Jurgen asked.

Laedron paused, then swallowed deeply. “I can see no other possibility. We seek either an Uxidin or the tome. If we pursue Harridan, we have a name and a starting point, but if we go out looking for an Uxidin, we have neither.”

“Better to go after a peer than a legend, eh?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, I have heard of Mistress Harridan, and I know of her works. The church has hunted these books to the point of extinction over the past several decades since we first heard of them, and we suspect that she’s a sorceress.”

Valyrie tilted her head. “Several decades? I thought they were far older than that.”

“The style of writing is older than most contemporary works, but I recall their first appearance in our libraries,” Jurgen said. “I would say they first started showing up about twenty or thirty years ago.”

“And you suspect she’s a sorceress?” Laedron asked.

“Yes. Her words carry a consistent affinity for magic, and she has twisted prophesy and scripture to better fit a mage’s world view.”

Laedron shook his head. “Cedric Tamden seems to think otherwise. After reading through the book, he was convinced that she’s seen or heard something to inspire her work. Whatever that is, we need to find it.”

“Then you will seek her out, Sorcerer?”

“If she’s still alive. If not, I hope we’re not left walking in circles.”

“I wish you luck, but I hope you will stay for a while yet.”

“Stay?” Laedron shrugged. “We have nothing left to do here. You haven’t started any more trouble, have you?”

“No, nothing like that. The consulship and I merely wish to thank you for everything you have done for us.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It’s not quite that simple, my young friend. The consulship has instructed me to summon you for an assembly two days hence.”

“Two days? I’d much rather get underway sooner than that.”

Marac came alongside and swatted Laedron. “Oh, come on, Lae. I know you’re not one for praise, but take a little recognition when you deserve it, won’t you?”

“The sooner we can find out what’s wrong with me, the better.”

“I’m sure you’ll be all right.” Marac turned to Jurgen. “Go ahead and make the arrangements, my good man. We’ll be there.”

Jurgen left, and Laedron gave Marac a scornful glare. “We have little time for ceremonies. I must know what’s happening to me.”

“We can’t go without a plan,” Marac replied. “At the least, they’ll probably pay us something for our trouble. We can’t go without supplies, either, Lae.”

“Very well.” Laedron took a seat at the head of the table. “Let us discuss our next step, then.”

“If we’re to go to Lasoron, we must decide where.” Valyrie retrieved a map from a nearby bookcase and spread it across the table. “In the south, there is but one major city—Nessadene. It lies on the coast of the Sea of Pillars. Aldrissa is a small logging village just west of the city, but it’s unlikely that a writer as skilled as Harridan would be there.”

Laedron smiled, remembering his little fishing town of Reven’s Landing and the fact that he, his mother, and his sister—all gifted mages—lived there. “Of course, no one of any importance could be in a place like that.”

Valyrie glanced at him, seeming to notice the insult she’d cast. “Forgive me—”

“No, think nothing of it,” Laedron said. “You’re probably right. After all, nothing world changing ever happened to my family while we were there. I would doubt something as mystical as The Bloodmyr Tome, or an Uxidin, for that matter, would be in a logging village. Even Ismerelda hid herself in a sizable city.”

“How will we travel?” Marac asked.

“The same way we got to Azura. Along the roads.”

Valyrie crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. “There is another way.”

“If you mean by magic, it’s dangerous.” Laedron shook his head. “No, it must be by land.”

“Going by land presents several problems,” Marac said.

“What sorts of problems?” Laedron asked.

“Well, for one, highwaymen. Battles tend to draw unseemly sorts from all over to profit on the dead and travelers.”

“And the war,” Brice said.

Laedron rolled his eyes. “The Sorbians aren’t going to attack again. Why would they?”

“Not the Sorbians. The Falacorans. Jurgen is sending a ship, but the message has much further to travel.”

“He’s right,” Marac said, nodding. “Armies could still be moving along the roads, and word might not have reached them yet. We could be mistaken for enemy scouts.”

Laedron threw up his hands. “Then how?”

“By sea,” Valyrie said. “We could acquire passage on a ship.”

“A ship would take us away from the direction we’re going, and I thought only the Arcanists could sail the Sea of Pillars. You did say Nessadene lay on its coast, right?” Laedron leaned forward over the map, then struck the marker with his finger. “The northeastern end of the Sea of Pillars, right there.”

“Yes, but that’s what I’m suggesting.” She traced the map with her fingertip. “We could convince the Arcanists to ferry us across the Sea of Pillars. We’d save days—maybe even a week—compared to the other options.”

Laedron nodded. “The sooner, the better, and since Marac’s volunteered us for this ceremony, we need every bit of time we can muster.”

“You’ll hold that against me?” Marac asked.

“No, no. I don’t look forward to being paraded up and down the streets, but I’ll let it go this time. The potential rewards would do much to further our task.”

“All right.” Valyrie rested her arms on the table. “We’ll speak to Jurgen about getting passage then?”

“Yes.” Laedron glanced at each of them. “What supplies do you think we’ll need?”

“If we go by ship, we’ll have little need for food,” Brice said. “Some, but not much. That pretty much goes for any other supplies, too; if we’re not to be in the wilderness, I don’t see us needing much.”

“Right, but I don’t want to go empty-handed.” Marac took a sip from his cup. “We’ll need some basic things to tide us over until we learn the city, and travelers without supplies make easy targets for greedy merchants.”

Laedron smiled. “Agreed. Let us get our things together and take care of any other business we have so that we’re ready to leave as soon as possible.”

“All right,” Brice said, standing. “I’ll return later.”

Laedron said, “Wait. What have you to do?”

“I have to see someone one last time before I go. I’ll be back. Trust me.” Brice left without another word.

Laedron raised an eyebrow, then gazed at Marac. “Have you any idea what he has in mind?”

“No. I just hope he doesn’t get himself in trouble—” He stopped when Laedron glared at him. “Sorry. I won’t pick on him anymore.”

“Have you anything to do, Val?” Laedron asked.

She stood. “I’d like to see my teachers one last time, to tell them farewell. And a few friends.” She stood and went out the main door.

“Looks like it’s just us, old friend,” Laedron said.

Marac grinned. “A terrible proposition.”

Laedron chuckled. “Perhaps, but it gives us a little time to talk, a luxury we haven’t had lately. Things have gotten so complicated.”

“Complicated? I’m no master of language, but I’d bet there’s a word far stronger than
complicated
to describe our lives recently.” Marac paused. “Tell me about this girl of yours.”

“Nothing to tell.”

“Nothing to tell? Come on, Lae.”

“I think I’m in love, Marac.”

Marac laughed. “Sorry, my friend. I’m only surprised to hear those words cross your lips at long last. She’s quite a catch, isn’t she?”

“Quite. We haven’t known each other for long, but I feel something when I’m around her. Is that strange? To feel in love after so short a time?”

“You’re asking me?” Marac asked. “Well, I guess you are, aren’t you? No, not in my mind. A week or two is plenty of time to get the feeling, but now, you have to own it.”

“Own it?”

“Yeah, you have to own it. Take the heart out of it and see if you line up with her.” Marac scooted closer. “You have to look at it from the outside. Can you see yourself living with her for the rest of your life? Getting into fights and making it out with your skin?”

“Oh, we won’t fight. I could never fight with—”

“You will. Take it from me. You’ll fight, and you’ll be bitter. There’ll be times that you can’t stand to be around her, but you have to decide beforehand if you think you can make it. No, you have to know that you can repair the breaches as they come.”

“I just never see us fighting. Not ever.”

“You’d better at least think about it. I don’t mean to spoil things or get you down, but these things happen. Everybody fights sometimes. Laren and I have argued. My parents fight and bicker, but they make amends. That’s what it is to be together.”

“You and Laren?”

Marac sighed. “Yeah, after we suspended the wedding plans. She still saw me after that, and she’d always climb up and down my back about the drinking and my night life. We made up each time, though. We know that we’re meant for each other.”

“You’re making me rethink this whole thing, Marac.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Is it?”

“I only mean to say that you have to know. When you know, you’ll
know
, but don’t do anything too hasty before you’re sure. Take things slow. Get to know her well before pursuing anything permanent.”

“I’ve never seen this side of you before, Marac. I have to admit that it’s kind of nice.”

“There’s more to me than drunken wildness and chasing women I don’t care about. You should know that, Laedron Telpist.”

“Of course that’s not all I think of you. I only mean to say that it’s a pleasant difference from what I’ve witnessed lately.”

Marac nodded. “We’ve been through a lot. The war, fighting with priests who turned out to be Zyvdredi sorcerers, and the heartache. Every day that passes, I worry that I’ll never see Laren again.”

“You’ll see her. I’m sure of it.”

“I hope so.”

“Enough of this talk for now,” Laedron said. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

“A walk?”

“Yes, a walk. Have you forgotten how?”

Marac stood. “I only wonder why.”

“With everything that’s happened, we’ve never been able to take in the sights. The city bears many places to see, and we may not have a chance to visit here again.”

“All right. It could be nice.”

“That’s the spirit,” Laedron said, opening the door.

Marac followed him outside. “Where do you want to go?”