The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare (77 page)

“My…father…?”

“Why, yes! How could I have gotten anywhere with that old geezer in the way? He was far too powerful, and popular. He had to be eliminated. But a little bird told me he had a penchant for a certain vintage of imported port wine. A little gift I sent him to celebrate his birthday. He was delighted. Soothed himself with it nearly every night for months, especially when he began to feel ill. Never suspected the poison for a moment. And his healers just watching him waste away, helpless and without a clue…so tragic. I suspect Gareth was in a lot of pain toward the end.”

Andrus had joined the crowd earlier, but now put his hands over his face in shame, remembering how he himself had sanctioned the glasses of port to soothe and relax his patient, when he could find no other relief, nor effective treatment. How could he not have suspected?

Jorelial Rey, however, had turned white, and was shaking with rage. No more sound could pierce the loud buzzing that was swelling in her ears, and almost all thought was obliterated by a wave of blood-red behind her eyes. Before anyone else realized what was happening, she had dashed forward and taken up from the field one of the latest discarded weapons of Drogue’s hapless force – a long spear, with a sharp, jagged head. With near superhuman strength, and without any conscious consideration of consequences, she gripped its shaft, drew it back, and hurled it at the monster on horseback. Straight up and well-aimed, it hurtled toward its intended target.

“Nooooooo!” wailed Mark and Tvrdik in chorus, Mark shouting that Delphine would be endangered, and Tvrdik gesturing with his hand in the air. The spear became a long-necked goose, flying right past Drogue, on the way to some distant lake.

The Lady Regent turned to face Tvrdik, and in her eyes was a look he did not recognize, one that frightened him. “Why did you do that, mage?” she demanded. “It would have hit him.”

“Jorelial Rey, you cannot
do
this. Everything we fought for, believed in, struggled to convince the others of…the whole point of it all hangs in the balance. You are the leader, the model for us all. You must not throw it all away like this.”

“Stay out of my way, mage. That demon killed my father – killed him with forethought, cruelty, and glee at his suffering. He took away the light of my life, and the hope of the kingdom, and left me with all of this to cope with on my own. And now, he would take my only sister from me as well? I tell you, he is mine. I will face him here and now, and I will see him die in agony or I will perish in the attempt. Now, get out of my way.”

Tvrdik grabbed her by the shoulders, “You don’t know what you are saying. You’ve just had an awful shock, and you are not yourself. Please,
please
, Jorelial Rey, think. Stop and think of all you have spent and sacrificed to get this far, all the effort and faith. Trust now, we are so close…let it go.”

She struggled out of his grip, and dashed past him to the field again, where she was able to pick up another lethal-looking spear, and was preparing to launch it. Tvrdik dropped his hands in despair. Mark moaned. Drogue taunted.

“Oho! I see the little lady has more spunk than I gave her credit for. So, you are a warrior after all, my lady. You feel rage, and bloodlust, and the desire for revenge, and you are capable of acting on them. I applaud you.
If
I decide to let you live long enough, you might yet mature into a real leader. You have a delicious temper, and a ruthless streak I admire. A little time, and I could teach you how to conduct yourself just like me.”

She pulled back the spear, aiming, hesitating, hating his words, hating him, hating herself.

“And that is what you wish, then, dearest? To be like him?” This time it was Tashroth’s deep rumble in her ear, his great head beside her, eyes regarding her evenly, warm breath on her shoulder.

“Go away, Tash. I have to kill him.”

“And if you can, what would be gained? You have already won the day here. You cannot bring your father back, nor the king, nor the days of your carefree youth. And what will become of your sister if you should strike him down now? Do you even care anymore?”

She hesitated, hot tears of frustration welling in her eyes. She dashed them away and looked up to see that Delphine was now dangling over Valour’s flank, high above the ground, Drogue holding only her wrists. “Oh, ye gods! Delphine.” she muttered.

“Go on and throw it, missy.” Drogue shouted down at her, still relishing his position of power, “Show us what you are made of.”

Tashroth whispered low again in her ear, “Do you hear how he goads you? He
wants
you to strike out in rage, to prove that the vision of the Legion is but a wisp of smoke in this world. He wants to hold you up as an example that we are all no better in the end than he is. Dearest, will you give up your soul to him so easily?”

For one single, suspended, eternal moment in time, Jorelial Rey paused long enough to allow the dragon’s words into her mind, her heart, her true best self. Then, every muscle taut, the trembling Lady Regent drew back the awful spear…and threw it to the ground. In that moment of decision and surprise, a host of things happened: as Jorelial collapsed against Tashroth’s forearm, and the great, green muzzle reached down to comfort her, Tvrdik made a sudden grab for the blue shield mirror of the Legionnaire nearest him, and with lightning-quick dexterity, he spun it around and flashed it up toward Drogue as the great winged steed came around for one more pass. Drogue dropped his head and looked away, but the blue mirror caught Valour full in the face. The powerful beast stared hard at the uplifted surface, his eyes wide with horror at what he saw, and then he reared, curved his great muscular neck, shrieked and writhed in torment. Lord Drogue’s balance was upset, and he lost his tenuous hold on the helpless girl, who plummeted toward earth, hands and feet still bound. With one well-timed leap into the air, Candelinda launched herself at the falling bundle and snatched it out of the sky with her talons. Still well above the ground, she twisted around to soar upwards with her precious cargo, carrying Delphine to a safe space several hundred paces away. There they set down with the grace of a drop of rain on a summer blossom.

The white dragon had been watching, concealed behind a boulder, and in mental contact with Tashroth throughout the entire drama, waiting for a clear opportunity to make her move. Cheers and applause greeted her landing, and Mark was in the forefront of those running across the field to free the Lady Delphine and to thank her rescuer.

Meanwhile, Tvrdik held the blue shield skyward, his arm unwavering, and Valour was twisting and bucking, as if trying to rid himself of a swarm of stinging wasps. Drogue was holding on one-handed to some portion of the horse’s tack, gripping it for dear life. At last, the great beast screamed, lost control of his wings, flipped over upside down and began to fall to earth in a dizzying spiral. Proud Valour landed on the dirt with a sickening thud, and lay still. Tvrdik threw down the shield and ran to the place he had come down. Andrus was with him, and a small contingent of others determined to help. Jorelial Rey climbed up on Tashroth, and they followed behind by air. When they all arrived at the site, the elusive Lord Drogue was nowhere to be found. But the Lady Rey had regained enough of her composure to order scouting parties to make haste in searching every inch of the valley.

Mark and Warlowe and the Lady Brendelle were among the first to reach Candelinda and Delphine. They set about freeing her from her bonds and removing the gag.

“Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?” Mark asked.

She shook her head, “I…I’m alright, I think. There was only time for him to tie me up and put me on the saddle. Just a bit shaky, is all. I’ll be fine.”

Now that she was free of the ropes, Mark reached to pull her into his arms, but at the last minute, instead, he fell on one knee, bowed his head, and in a hoarse voice that in no way resembled his usual baritone, addressed her, “Delphine, my love, can you ever forgive me for allowing you to be spirited away right before my eyes? I was supposed to be protecting you. I am so, so sorry. I don’t deserve…”

“Mark,” she interrupted, smiling, tears flowing down her cheeks, “just hold me.” And in one move the bedraggled young harper was on his feet wrapping his arms around his bride, rocking her back and forth, and holding her close to his breast as if to fasten her there forever.

She pulled back and stared at him with wide eyes, “The king. Is Darian…?”

“Safe.” Mark finished the sentence for her, “Thanks to you, I was able to get him inside, and we have moved everyone from the house to a secret place where Drogue should not be able to find them.”

“I am so proud of you,” she sighed. “That was heroic.”

“If you had not come back to me, it would have been ashes on my tongue to claim it.”

“It’s alright now, darling. Everything’s going to be alright.”

They turned to Candelinda, joining the others in congratulating her on her dazzling rescue. Delphine stroked her glowing, opalescent scales, and expressed her gratitude for the white dragon’s quick thinking and bravery, which had saved her life. Candelinda smiled with appropriate humility, but Delphine noticed that her eyes were fixed on something – or someone – a few meters away. As she turned to follow the white dragon’s gaze, she saw Tashroth at the center of a small crowd, bending over Valour’s still frame. “Oooh!” thought Delphine, “I know a secret.” and she smiled. A moment later her mother, Brendelle, was embracing her and cooing over her with relief. That was wonderful too, but she realized the face she wanted to see most just now was Rel’s. Where was she? Well, there would be time later for emotional reunions. Right now she was content to rest in the arms of her beloved.

Tvrdik’s skilled hands were feeling all over the winged horse for broken bones and internal injuries. The great dark steed lay on the ground, breath shallow, tongue lolling from his mouth, eyes rolled up in his head, and his eyelids fluttering. He was surrounded by concerned and anxious faces from both camps. Though he had cast his lot with Drogue, all of the magical creatures and legionnaires retained a grudging respect and admiration for the proud and handsome Valour, descended from a long, distinguished line that could trace its ancestry back to Pegasus. Tvrdik’s brow furrowed as he worked. He had used the shield in an effort to rescue Delphine, but had never intended to cause the death of such a magnificent being. No one wanted that.

Valour flinched to be touched in several places. His wings were bent, some feathers broken. It would take some time for him to be sky-worthy again. But Tvrdik could find no broken bones or obvious hemorrhages, remarkable, considering his size, and the height from which he had fallen to earth. Valour’s head did not show any bumps or scrapes or signs of concussion, even though he had had the wind knocked out of him and seemed to be unconscious. Tvrdik suspected that the more profound wounds were psychic. He laid hands on the animal’s forehead, and concentrated on healing, comforting, regenerating energy, and sweet, warm blankets of unconditional love – like bright sunshine, only glowing in intense gold and pink. From behind him approached the entire company of unicorns, Wynne in the lead, and Shar by his side.

“He comes from a clan that is cousin to ours,” Wynne stated. “We wish to help.” Tvrdik nodded, keeping his hands and concentration where they were. Soon, all the unicorns had surrounded the patient, each one touching him with the point of a horn. Even Shar joined in, to Tvrdik’s delight and surprise. In response to the mage’s glance and raised eyebrow, the black unicorn leaned toward him and whispered, “I concentrate on the qualities of ash, as you suggested: strength and flexibility. It serves me well.” And he gave Tvrdik an affectionate wink. Soon, all the horns, including Shar’s, were glowing brightly, and Tvrdik’s hands felt hot. Tashroth, Candelinda, and several of the other dragons added their concentration and healing skills. They stood erect, eyes closed, and a sort of low hum emanating from them that could be felt more than heard. Mark and Delphine stepped up, Rel fumbling for her baby sister’s hand, and clasping it tight, and some of the bards, who added their own voices in a wordless harmony with the dragons. All of them surrendered to the pulse that generated from the dragons and unicorns, and let their hands and voices be guided by a force they could not name. Other well-meaning folk dropped to their knees and laid hands on the fallen creature wherever there was room. Most were uncertain what they were doing, but they sent out heartfelt intentions for love and healing.

Minutes passed while the collective efforts of those who joined in, and the sincere prayers of others looking on, bathed Valour in a veritable sea of nurturing and redemption. At length, the horse’s eyelids fluttered and opened, and anxious eyes stared out at a collection of concerned faces. The great body shuddered, rocked several times, and rolled up to stand on its own four legs, all the would-be healers scrambling to make room. The rhythmic, mystical sounds ceased and left in their wake a breathless, uncertain silence. Shivering and wild-eyed, his wings drooping and disheveled, Valour stood, his glance darting about in suspicion.

“Steady, boy. There is no need to be afraid. You are among friends.” Tvrdik tried to calm him, keeping his voice low and even.

The horse’s eyes narrowed, “How may that be, when I recognize some of you as defenders of the Crown?”

Jorelial Rey spoke now, “The battle is ended now, your old master defeated and missing, and none of us here bear you any ill will.”

Tvrdik added, “It was never our intention to cause you harm – only to stop Lord Drogue in his dangerous plans.”

There was a pause, as Valour scanned the faces surrounding him for the truth of their statements, and then the great beast lowered his fine head and big tears splashed on the ground. “I cannot recall when or how I came to his service, but I have seen in the mirror how far I have wandered from my spirit’s true path. I am ashamed. I have betrayed my heritage and destroyed my good name.”

Jorelial Rey approached, her face grim but compassionate, “Let the follies of yesterday go. It is possible Drogue used some sort of dark sorcery to press you into his employ. He had most of us fooled on a good many matters up until now. If it is your purpose to make peace with us, all else is forgotten, and we are pleased to welcome you home.”