The Exodus Sagas: Book I - Of Spiders And Falcons (23 page)

The doors opened, by magical will alone not by touch, and Lady Aelaine Lazlette entered with her usual brisk pace and flowing black robes, graying dark brown waves of curled hair pulled back and elegant. Following her closely was Middir of Kivanis, mostly known for his invention of alternative spells and arcane application to older procedure and method, reveled as one of the most sought after professors of the arcane and the family’s most trusted ally. Her mothers teacher, and for several years Gwenne’s teacher as well, Middir was more plump of body and thin of white hair, save for his braided beard and mustache. The two had no smiles, more looks of concern and worry as if they had just had an argument and Lady Aelaine was in need of time alone.

“Hithins, leave us for a moment and hunt would you my friend?” despite her concerned appearance, she spoke always as the Lady even to her bonded pet vulture.

“Yes my Lady, my pleasure. Good evening master Middir.” with an unnecessary squawk and a heavy beat of its wings, the white scavenger bird flew out the windows, windows that opened into the cold with a wave of the High Wizards palm. The cold drafted into the chamber, ruffling the curtains, Gwenne concentrated on the spell that was emitting from her, blending her outline with the moving cloth, ensuring she was not noticed, breathing slowly in and out as the windows closed once more.

“My Lady, it is not theft nor a crime against the Highborne elves of Kilikala to protect what is theirs by whatever means we have.” The old man sat on a chair made of sparkling air, one that he merely thought of for a moment. His arcane skills flowed freely and simply after so many decades of mastery in the arts.

“They are not ours to protect, Middir. Those tomes are in the hands of one of their own.”

“Yes, a savage wood elf and a satyr from the north, and hunted by the most deadly swordsman and mercenary in the southern realms.” Middir spoke with heavy northern accents, shortened words, and his point was always quick, leaving proper time for those he spoke with to retort. They were manners of high chivalry from his birth, trademarks of Kivanis and Shanador, kingdoms of great honor.

“The court of the Whitemoon will intervene, one of your students said they recognized the engravings on his weapon to be of theirs. We should not interfere.” her patience wearing thin, impossibly trying to navigate through his wisdom and logic.

“If the court knew those tomes were heading to Valhirst, or even near it, they would have done something. Not to mention that this Nadderi elf is employed by Salah-Cam, my old student, who is probably guiding this killer from afar. It is an unfair advantage that we can balance Aelaine.”

Lady Lazlette moved to the curtains, peering out into the night sky over Vallakazz, the beautiful city of lights, art, and the magical college over the lake. Vallakazz was not like other cities, it was special, educated, people traveled from many countries to see the old temples, the beautiful manors, and the Lazlette Semanarium atop Lake Pellicram. Aelaine did not like dealing outside the city, nor with those not of the arts. She did not have anything in common with them, therefore there was no bond or trust. “What did Lavalandara of Kilikala say of these tomes when she contacted you Middir?” her exhaustion at worry of putting her students or colleagues into danger was weighing heavy on her conscience.

“The Arcane Magistrate of Kilikala said that a traitor of their own, Eliah Shendrynn, had stolen four of the ancient texts of High Elven Magic and was being hunted. They believed that he was heading to an old temple to the Gimmorians, south of the ruins of Teirinshire and Arouland. They had contacted the court of the Whitemoon, and were assured a hunter would have them before any tragedy came about.” Middir of Kivanis lit a pipe as he rocked on the invoked chair.

“And so he has, this hunter has obviously stopped the transgressor and is en route to return to the court as we speak.”

“He only has three, Aelaine, just three. And he is followed by servants of an insane rogue wizard seeking unlife, his enchanted pets, a squadron of trolls, and this murderous assassin. To defend him, he has a satyr scout and himself. You and I, as human, can only imagine what powers could be learned from those books. Let us balance the scales a bit my lady. He can not escape the watchful eye of Salah-Cam unless we intervene.”

“The wood elf will not come to the city nor accept our help, you know this Middir.” Aelaine traced a crescent moon in the air by the window with her fingers, altering its color to sparkling white with a turn of her wrist, then dismissing it into mist.

“He does not have to my lady, but if his enemies
thought
he were safe inside a city of twenty thousand, they may err on the side of our elven friends to the far north, become confused, and give this hunter the distance he needs to get safely away.”

“A diversion that could lead that assassin and spies of Salah-Cam to our city.”

“A chance we take. Prepared for confrontation, we ensure that this killer does not get within a mile of the bridges.” Middir stood up, waving his chair away into lighted dust falling to nothingness.

“You men have gift for strategy, logical plans, I wish Arlinne were here to help me in this decision.” Her head lowered, admiring the black marble floor with gold trim and feeling that long lost love choke in her aging chest.

A warm hand placed on her shoulder, like many times before. “He is not, my lady. He left here not because of you or Gwenneth. He left for his family that remained in Southwind. His battles were there and so was his sense of pride and duty. No matter what you did, he would not have been satisfied in Vallakazz with all its peace and learning. He was a brave warrior and leader Aelaine, a leader of men into battle for king and country, not the captain of the city guard he tried to be here.”

“If he had not left he would be alive today, here to see his daughter grow and help me with these decisions that come more and more frequent.”

“Perhaps, but he would not be the man you loved, nor would he have ever been happy without a war to fight. Remember my dear, without him, the ogre may have rose up and taken this kingdom by much surprise. His death served purpose to uncover an army, organized and hidden, deadly, to the western waste. His other children, after Gwenne, now lead that fortress that keeps us safe. To you and I, sad and tragic. To men like Arlinne T’Vellon, it was glorious and in death he achieved victory over the ogre, his enemy.” Middir knew it was hard for her to hear, no woman likes to hear reasoning for her husband leaving her and a child behind to start again an exciting life of battle. He also knew not to mention the wife he took in Southwind and bore twins with. The old man had seen enough in his life from Shanador to Caberra, and here in Chazzrynn, to be able to put reason and rationale to any decision a man may make. Right or wrong, Arlinne was hailed a hero and loyal Lord of King Mikhail’s kingdom by his death thirteen years ago. Middir wished often that Aelaine had remarried and left some room in her life for something other than the academy, her remorse, and her daughter. Perhaps left something for herself.

“Give me the night to think it over, but make preparations for the enemies of the elves to believe their quarry heads to Vallakazz.” A surrendering sigh and a weary soul bid the old man good night and Aelaine rested on a real velvet sofa of rose maple and burgundy hue in the center of her study. “Thank you, professor Middir.”

“Sleep well Lady of Lazlette and you as well, Gwenneth behind the drapery.” The door shut behind him, his smile wide and warm behind his white beard. He loved to cause a little mischief now and again in his old age. Middir always had his arcane senses in place, even in the safety of the college, and young Gwenne’s glamors were no match for the experienced veteran, he had known she was there before he had entered the room. Leaving some interesting mother and daughter time, Middir of Kivanis went to enlist some help from the ninth year students graduating soon in typical grand fashion over Lake Pellicram.

“Gwenneth Lazlette! You sneaking disobedient spy in the night!
And Hithins knew
you were here, that is why he so eagerly left into the cold night sky!” too weary to get up, Aelaine scolded from the sofa.

“Calm yourself mother, I was researching, not spying on this political piece of intrigue that you gave into Middir about.” the best defense Gwenne knew was to defy and push a bit more, wearing her mother out to avoid punishment.

“I did not give in, do not change the matter at hand. Bribing my vulture, sneaking into my chambers, glyphing the door to the nine years’ classroom, and concealing yourself within the drapes? Seriously Gwenneth? You will take this Academy one day, take my position as duty to your family and you insist on this rebellious behavior?” Her finger glowing red with wisps of flame as she spoke.

“Mother, it is tedious and boring. I wish to study, to improve, to learn more, the ancient spells and arts, like you, and Middir, and Kalzarius, and all the others I have read about.” Gwenne sat next to her mother, knowing that she must be weary from the graduation proceedings, letters of arrangement, and now this elven issue. “Let me have my own class, something a bit more, say, dangerous?”

“It is enough that King Mikhail can only take one wizard to his court this year, then King Richmond the Second of Harlaheim denied Lord Bradswellen the Third of Saint Erinsburg his request, and then….” She felt overwhelmed, her words trailing off, thinking off those books in danger, danger that could get them into terrible hands and have wicked consequences. “I should have had every one of my students this year assigned, and I have half. The letters to Jal-Adeen take weeks each way by ship, their wizards forbid communications from arcane means. It is a difficult year, and may take me till summer to get it all sorted, Gwenne.”

“I could help. I can handle this matter with the books of High Elven Magic, I would much enjoy some breath from remedial teachings of how to detect arcane presence, decipher ancient tomes, and handling the same questions from the students in their third and fourth years.”

“The same questions you had, same you asked Middir and I many times over Gwenneth.”

“Yes, when I was thirteen, mother. I was raised here, in our academy. By twenty the other professors would let me teach their classes, and by twenty five they asked me for assistance on research.”

“You are gifted, just don’t be in such a hurry. You are young …”

“Yes mother, I know! I went to the village of Sierra Vale last week, to the south and east of here. I saw women my age, women with four children and husbands! And do you know what I thought as I realized my youth? I realized that I could destroy the entire village in moments, then reconstruct it, change the weather there, and still not be happy, for I am alone with all these skills and gifts with no one to share them with. You had a life, before grandfather died, a husband and a child. I do not, and you speak to me of youth? I am not ready to settle here because
I have never left here
!” her anger was as much the truth as it was a tactic to sway her mother to let her do something exciting.

“Thank you for reminding me of how little I have provided you,
noble daughter
.” Aelaine’s sarcasm was showing, near the end of her rope with debate this cold day, seeking rest and comfort for herself.

“You know what I meant
mother
. And my
father
has nothing to do with any of it by the way, he left when I was four years old, left to return home to where he thought he belonged. He did not write, nor visit!” Gwenneth, seeing that her mother was beyond decision tonight, feeling her temper, would keep her pride intact by slamming a door or three on her way to her chamber.

The doors slammed, one by one, fading as her daughter got further away from the High Wizard. Aelaine waved her hand, the latch locking from across the room. She waved the fingers on her other hand, motioning for a book on the top shelf to lower through the air into her lap, which it did as the arcane energies took presence. Lady Lazlette opened the old, plain looking tome, revealing it to be empty of pages, a false book within the magical texts of her library, hidden for decades. Aelaine stared at the letters, dozens, old and yellowed from long ago. She opened one.

“
dearest Aelaine, please forgive me. It has been three months since my last letter, the trade routes relentlessly hit time and again by the massing ogre tribes. King Mikhail and Prince Johnas feel it is isolated circumstance, yet I feel there is more to it than that. How is our daughter, she must be nine by now, and surely enjoying the arts that you love so…..”

Sobbing at every hidden word of every hidden letter that she had never responded to, Aelaine Lazlette felt pain like no other. I was pain she kept secret from the world, her closest friends, allies, and even her daughter. A daughter she knew that was too much like her father in many ways, so much that she had been trying all her life to keep her from, the love of confrontation. The lure of battle, the adventure of victory and risk was a craving that, Aelaine felt, had stolen and murdered her husband many years ago far beyond the woman he had remarried could have.

Thwack, thwack, fwepthwack
! the window opened for the vulture, who had flapped outside of it trying to get in before it was completely open. Landing above the magical fireplace, magical yet still warm and lit, Hithins shook his feathers free from the snow. He noticed Lady Lazlette, sobbing on the sofa alone and reading the letters again. “What have I missed, my Lady?”

“Nothing, Hithins, nothing. Do me one favor, no interruptions till morning please, I need to rest.” Her neck wet from crying, her mind and body overcome with stress and worry, Aelaine did not move from the sofa. The snowbird flew over the fireplace, round to the other room, and circled back with a blanket in tow. He flapped rapidly, dragging the heavy wool blanket over his mistress as any good pet would do for his master.