Read To Be Grand Maestro (Book 5) Online
Authors: John Buttrick
“Reporting to the Queen and the meetings that follow have to do with your duel responsibilities as a Royal Knight of the Realm and a Lord of the Land, and are unavoidable. As for the other, truth will out eventually no matter how hard we conceal it. Make the announcement now and people will have the opportunity to debate and gossip about the choice we made, that way folks have time to get over the shock,” Sherree replied, and then smiled up at him, adding, “Before you shatter another tradition once considered to be unbreakable.”
He had nothing to say about his reputation for breaking traditions and so concentrated on the main thoroughfares, which were broad and divided down the middle by trees, and at this point obscuring the view of traffic going in the other direction. Even so the spell, Find All, which Daniel allowed to flow from him in a small radius of fifty paces, alerted him to something he had never sensed in this city before; a Condemned. “Lawrence, take the next left and go back the other way,” he called out.
“It will be as you say, Sir Daniel,” the burly man replied and guided the horse to the left as they approached the turning point.
“Daniel, what is wrong, why do you want to go back?” Sherree asked with concern in her tone.
“We just passed a Condemned going in the other direction. I must catch and restore it,” he replied, while his mind was tracking the progress of the Condemned.
“Can’t it wait? We will be late for our meeting with the Queen. Surely we can come back and seek out the poor soul afterward,” She spoke what seemed a reasonable response to the situation.
Daniel agreed with her on an intellectual level and yet had a strong feeling this was one of those moments when the Chosen Vessel sees someone in need and must make a decision to stand aside or help. They were now headed the way he commanded, down Palace Way.
“I’ll tell the coachman to turn around and resume taking us to the palace,” Sherree said, clearly assuming the matter was settled.
Daniel made his decision and shook his head. “No, the person needs to be saved now.”
Sherree opened her mouth as if preparing to add to her previous point, while those emerald eyes seemed to be studying his face, and then she exhaled without saying a word; only nodded acceptance, folded her hands, and began peering out the window.
Daniel could no longer sense the Condemned; it had gone beyond the self-imposed fifty pace radius, so he concentrated the focal points from spherical to a forward range of two hundred paces. The victim was one hundred eighty paces ahead and the speed of traffic, no faster than a casual stroll, kept that distance from shortening. “I’ll be back,” he said, while opening the door. He sprang out of the moving coach and began a brisk walk the moment his feet hit the ground.
Folks greeted him saying, “Good day to you, Sir,” as they recognized, not only the uniform of a Ducaunan Royal Knight of the Realm, but the most well-known Accomplished in the kingdom. He gave each a perfunctory, “Good day to you as well,” and continued on his way, dodging around horses and wagons.
Most of the people were able to perceive by the briskness of his strides as he moved to the sidewalk that he was in a hurry and stepped aside, making a clear path through the crowd. To them he responded with, “Good day to you as well and thank you.”
Their courtesy allowed him to gain on the Condemned and to see a man sitting in an open carriage. From behind, all that could be seen of the fellow was a wide-brimmed purple hat and a matching coat. What could be seen of the back of his head was hairless. Daniel realized it was the clothing that caused him to believe the person he was pursuing to be male; the assumption may not be true.
Long buried feelings of being a mountaineer on the hunt rose up inside him. He was moving twice the speed of the coaches, carriages, horses, and wagons in the street, and it did not take long for him to draw parallel to his quarry. Crossing into the street ahead of the carriage, he called out, “Halt!”
The driver, a thin, well-groomed man, with graying hair, drew rein and brought the white mare to a stop. Eyes widened, turned into a glare, and then his frown faded away as he recognized who stood in his path. “Sir Daniel, I am Conrad Spinnet, owner and operator of this humble taxi. How may I be of service?” Few people wanted to show disrespect to a Royal Knight of the Realm.
All three lanes on this side of the thoroughfare came to a stop and people behind began shouting about the delay, some rudely so, and others grumbled under their breaths.
“I must have a few words with your passenger,” Daniel said, and flipped him a gold coin to pay the fare. “Take that for any inconvenience I may be causing you.”
Conrad caught the coin, stuffed it into his money pouch, and said, “Serving you is no inconvenience. I am honored to assist in any way I can.” Especially since he just collected the equivalent of every fare he would likely earn in the next ten days.
The traffic in the other two lanes started moving again at a slower pace than before, seeing as each passerby felt the need to stare at the halted taxi and the Knight who had commanded it to stop. The conveyances behind Conrad’s carriage were attempting to enter the other lane and go around, causing the stream to slow even more.
The Condemned kept glancing at his surroundings and only gradually settled his eyes on the driver. “Take me back to Climen Station,” he said in a flat monotone voice.
“The only words I ever hear him speak are, take me past the palace, and take me back to Climen Station,” Conrad said, glanced at the man, then at Daniel and apparently felt the need to elaborate. “I pick him up at the same place every day, he rides up and down Palace Way, and then I bring him back to Climen Station.”
Those lifeless eyes locked onto Daniel, but the hairless face remained blank. The eyebrows were drawn onto the skin and those eyelashes were clearly pasted on. “I must return to Climen Station,” the monotone voice seemed to strain just a little as the Condemned altered his original sentence.
If threatened, a Condemned will defend itself, so Daniel summoned and focused the spell, Sleep Time, without trying to communicate. The beam of energy was so narrow not even he could see it. The casting struck the man in the center of his forehead, sending him forward into a fall that was arrested when a second spell caught, and lifted him out of the carriage.
“Conrad, you have a good day, and thanks for being so helpful,” Daniel said while the Condemned floated in the air beside him.
The taxi driver swallowed, evidently feeling a catch in his throat at witnessing spell-work up close, and not all too comfortable with the experience. “Sir Daniel, may I go now?” he asked in a voice quivering with tension. The man clearly never knew what had been riding in his carriage all this time and there was no need to enlighten him, doing so would only increase the fright.
“Certainly,” Daniel replied and stepped back onto the side walk.
The pace of traffic began to increase as people decided this was probably not the best place to linger. Daniel walked along, causing folks there to go wide around him and his catch. The coach with Sherree still in it was coming in his direction at a quicker pace, so he decided to stop and wait for it to come to him. When it arrived he said, “Thank you, Lawrence, for indulging me. Take us back to the Excursion so our guest can recover, and then you can take Accomplished Jenna and me to the palace.”
He entered the coach with the Condemned floating in behind him and the coachman trying to ignore the obvious use of Aakacarn power, actually Aakasear, but the distinction from a spell-casting stand point was negligible to the uninitiated.
Daniel lowered the man onto the cushions of the other bench and then sat beside his beloved.
“It is a good thing this man’s body has few alterations, otherwise you would need a tub full of something for the spell, Hunger, to draw on,” Sherree remarked while spreading the purple coat wide and then opening the shirt to expose his abdomen. She had been present at enough restorations to know how to be of help.
Daniel nodded, confirming the spell would not be needed in this case since the victim did not seem to be missing body-parts. He cast the necessary spells and upon giving the man back his original face and a lifetime’s worth of black hair, spoke the words, “Friend, your brain and will are one. Your body is yours to command. You should feel no guilt over whatever your body was forced to do while enslaved,” and then added, since he did not know how long this man had been among the Condemneds, “Do the best you can to respect yourself and others and to keep yourself clean.”
He sensed energy flowing from Sherree and was not surprised when she said, “I do not sense any more Condemneds in the city, or Aakacarns.”
“Good to know,” Daniel told her, while deciding to remove the sleep spell rather than wait a day for it to wear off. “Perhaps we can find out who he is?”
Sherree nodded. “I think he may be from central or north Taracopa, going by his size, and fair-complexion.” Her guess was a good as Daniel’s, probably better.
He removed the spell and also the need to speculate on the fellow’s origins. Eyes blinked open and the brown orbs quickly scanned the contents of the coach and then focused on his fellow passengers. “You healed me,” he spoke in a deep voice while pointing at Daniel. It was almost always the first words spoken by people upon awakening after the procedure.
“You have been restored by Sir Daniel Benhannon, Maestro of the Atlantan Guild, a Seven-bolt Accomplished. I am Sherree Jenna, a Two-bolt Accomplished,” the First Lady announced. “What is your name?”
The man twisted to a seated position. “I am Lyal Van Kestral, son of Lord Zakeriah Van Kestral.”
This was the young man whose abduction caused the angry lord to join with Van Joppa against Van Efery, Daniel knew through various sources. “How did you come to be here?”
Lyal stroked his beard as if it was something strange and new. “It is a rather long tale, which I will share while looking forward to the opportunity to shave and cut my hair soon.”
“We are headed for the Excursion, where you can freshen up and rest in our suite, while Daniel and I are at the palace,” Sherree replied, answering him and clearly reminding her husband of the time.
Lyal gave a firm nod of the head. “I appreciate the hospitality and even more the healing. I’ll give you the short version of how I came to be here on the way and the rest you can hear upon the fulfilment of your duties and obligations.” Being a nobleman of Taracopa, he would know all about the requirements of high station.
“That will be fine,” Sherree assured the man.
Fixing his eyes on Daniel, Lyal began, “I blacked out and woke up in a room where an Accomplished of Serinian descent, wearing the red on black silks of Aakadon, cast the spell of Condemnation on me. I was at that point a prisoner in my own body and ordered to obey Accomplished Oliver Ogdennmyer of the Serpent Guild, who ordered me to obey Wallace Bork. Bork rents a room at Climen Station. My command from him was to ride along Palace Way, observe everything, and recite to him all that I see. The goal, as I understand it, is to observe your comings and goings, so my handlers could determine if a pattern develops allowing them to predict where you are going to be at any given point in time.”
The Accomplished in the silks of Aakadon had to be Vance Cummin, Daniel knew, and it came as no surprise to hear the Serpent Guild was interested in his whereabouts. Lyal went on telling of his experience as a mind-slave while they travelled all the way back to the Excursion. The trip up to the suite was quiet until they opened the door and David pulled a knife.
Lyal jumped back with a startled yelp. Sero and Carlos both began glowing with potential for a spell, and Silvia’s hand intercepted that of her husband before he could release the blade. “Chosen One, why have you returned?” she asked while her husband stared at Lyal as if still considering him a possible threat.
“This is Lyal Van Kestrel,” Daniel replied. “I restored him from Condemnation and he needs a place to freshen up while Sherree and I get on with the fulfilment of our noble obligations. Carlos, there is a Serpent Guild operative in the city, Wallace Bork, who is currently renting a room at Climen Station. I want him caught and turned over to the ISIG. Oliver Ogdennmyer of the Serpent Guild was Lyal’s handler. He is not currently in the city but we all know how quickly that could change, so be cautious and alert.”
The Four and the Three-bolt Accomplisheds released the life force energy for whatever spells might have been cast. “It will be as you say, Maestro” Carlos replied, and exited the suite. Sero remained where he was and ready to be of assistance as always.
Silvia went over to Lyal. “Come right this way, David will cut your hair and then you can bathe.”
“The bath sounds good,” the Van Kestrel replied, while dubiously eyeing the knife in the hand of the Teki.
“Don’t worry,” David said. “I never draw blood unless I intend to.”
Somehow Lyal did not seem all that comforted by the assurance. He turned to Daniel and the nervous expression vanished. “You saved me and I want to serve you.”
This happened a lot and Daniel knew the near overwhelming gratitude was why so many of the people he restored joined his muster. “The restoration is free, so you do not owe a gratuity, and we will talk about your future when I get back.”
Lyal nodded his head and then sat down in a chair while Silvia lathered soap and David began fingering his assortment of blades. Daniel and Sherree went back out to the coach and were once again on their way to the palace.