Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (111 page)

“Gy will be King Gylaren the first,” Keverin said with no doubt. “I give oath that Ascol will die before he sets one foot on the dais.”

Davida blinked in surprise at Keverin’s vehemence. “Why so angry?”

“A strange thing to ask,” Purcell said. “Ascol has done much that is worthy of anger, but bringing sorcerers here… that deserves anger and worse than anger.”

Gylaren nodded. “If Ascol were king, Deva would be annexed to the Protectorate in less than five years. He has no idea what he’s dealing with.”

Julia agreed with that. “You can’t deal with a sorcerer without getting dirty.”

Gylaren raised an eyebrow. “Another saying from your world?”

“Something like that.”

She watched the goings on and listened to the music. The musicians were trying hard to please but no one was dancing. The lords were grouped together talking about tomorrow’s vote or busy trying to persuade their peers to vote for Ascol or Gylaren. The consorts looked bored from where they sat along the walls or stood picking at the array of food on the tables. The musicians had been chosen from the best the lord’s retinues had to offer. The occasional dropped note could be ignored. It didn’t lessen her enjoyment of the music.

“May I have the pleasure of this dance?” Keverin said with a smile.

She curtsied. “That would be delightful,” she said but spoilt it with a grin.

Keverin led her into some space and whirled her into a world of music and dance where all that mattered was his strong hands guiding her around the floor. The music seemed to fade as she stared mesmerised into his eyes. God, how she loved him. It was frightening in its intensity, that love, but she wouldn’t change it. She would give everything she was to see him safe and happy, and he would do the same for her. Keverin was everything she had ever looked for in a man, everything she had dreamed of and more. He was her life, her soul, everything. She held him close and swore their love would never end—if she had to burn the world to ensure that, still would she swear and make it so.

Though she could care less, she had the rare pleasure of dancing before all the peers of the realm. Her delight in Keverin and the music proved infectious and it wasn’t long before the sons of the lords began asking the ladies to dance. Their fathers for the most part remained aloof and continued their own dance of politics. Julia noticed not, her world was Keverin and his hands upon her.

The music ended all too soon. “You are my life,” Keverin whispered.

“And you are mine,” Julia said drowning in his eyes.

“Let us find a priest and be wed now—on the instant.”

“Ye—” Julia was saying, but lord Meagan used that moment to interrupt.

Meagan, Lord of Herstal was a non-entity next to Keverin. A ferrety man, he wore such finery as any king would be proud to own, but on him, it was wasted. His pasty complexion and scraggly beard needed a lot more than a fine doublet and be-ringed fingers to offset. He was thin to the point of emaciation and shifty with it.

Julia loathed him now more than ever.

Meagan looked nervously back at his master. Ascol and his cronies were watching intently. It was obvious Ascol had sent him on the errand. With that in mind, Julia grasped her magic. She didn’t seriously expect Meagan to attack her or Keverin, but with her words to Gy about overconfidence clearly in mind, she decided to take no chances. After all, there were sorcerers loose in the palace.

“May I have the pleasure of the next dance?” Meagan said nervously.

Keverin growled and made to step forward, but Julia recovered from her jaw dropping surprise and interceded with a touch on his arm.

“How can I refuse such a courteous invitation? I accept.”

Keverin’s head whipped round to stare at her in shock.

“Meagan has something to say to me, I would judge. Not so?”

Meagan swallowed and nodded jerkily.

Keverin’s eyes narrowed in anger, but not at her, thank goodness. He chose Meagan and Ascol for his targets. He inclined his head slightly to Meagan,
very
slightly, and gave Julia into Meagan’s care before stalking away to find the wine.

The music began and they moved mechanically into the dance. Julia did not enjoy herself. Meagan’s touch was repugnant. She would need a good scrub in the tub to remove it.

“Lord Ascol—” Meagan began.

“Your owner wishes to send me a message. Why did he not deliver it himself?”

Meagan’s lips compressed into a thin line. That he was angry there was no doubt, but he was also afraid of her. Many people were, but Meagan had more reason than most to fear her. She recalled her journey to Devarr clearly, and chief among those memories was a town called Hringham—a town of starving people supposedly administered by the him.

“He does not own me, I’m my own man. We are merely allies.”

“You’re deluding yourself. The Protectorate owns Ascol and will own Deva through him. The sorcerers will never let him rule as a king should. He will be their lackey and you will be one of his. If you doubt me, look to Bandar. Where are those proud lords now? Either dead, retired to their much reduced estates, or serving in the legions.”

“That won’t happen here. We have assurances—”

“Spare me,” she said with a snort of contempt. “Don’t you think the Bandarians were given assurances? Of course they were.”

“This is not what I was sent to discuss,” Meagan growled.

“No? Then what was?”

“I am to make you an offer.”

“He has nothing I want.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Meagan said smugly. “Ascol has acquired certain information that he feels you would be interested in obtaining.”

Julia frowned. “What information?”

“Information of a magical nature perhaps. Perhaps information that would see you safely home.”

The music ended but she hardly noticed. She stepped back a pace from Meagan, one dance was all she was prepared to tolerate. A way home, he said. He didn’t mean Athione that was certain. Was the book in Athione’s vault the only one? It must be. If there were others, the sorcerers would have used what they contained before now. What was Ascol’s game? He must know she wouldn’t fall for so transparent a ruse… unless it wasn’t a ruse. She needed her mirror. If someone had somehow gained entrance to the vault… No, it wasn’t possible. Even she would have trouble getting through Darius’ ward on the vault door. It was complex in the extreme and strong with it.

“Ascol doesn’t have the knowledge, and neither do his masters,” she said with certainty, but she wanted her mirror. She was sure Meagan was lying, but a mirror… was he lying?

“He’s willing to show you under any conditions you care to name,” Meagan said. “He knew you would be sceptical, but once you see what he has, you will deal with him.”

“What makes you think I want to go back? I like it here.”

Meagan blinked. “I… I was told you were brought here against your will.”

“I was.”

“Well then.”

“Well then nothing!” she snapped. “I will never deal with the likes of Ascol. You can tell him from me that I know what he did. Tell him that I’ll see him in hell before I’ll deal with his masters!”

Julia stalked away leaving Meagan standing alone. She scanned the room and found Keverin heading her way. She intercepted him near the tables. She poured a glass of wine for each of them and stood alternatively sipping her wine and glaring at Ascol’s lackeys. The gall of the man trying to buy her with his lies… was it a lie?

“What did he want?” Kev said.

“He tried to bribe me.”

“Bribe you… with what?”

“A way back to my old world,” Julia said frowning. Did Ascol really have a way, and if he did, did his masters know of it? “The book in the vault—”

“What about it?”

“Is it the only one?” she said and gnawed her lip in worry. “If it’s not—”

“It is,” Keverin said firmly. “It must be.”

“How do you know?”

“If it were not, we would be dead. Mortain would have used it last year.”

“But how do you know?”

Keverin was silent for a long moment. “I have to believe it is the only one,” he said finally. “We have no evidence it is not, and more that it is.”

Julia nodded. All they could do was have faith. “Nothing is certain, but I believe it’s unique. I believe Ascol sent Meagan to tempt me into a meeting with him—maybe to kill me. I have no reason to believe anything he says, but I do know he hates you.”

“He hates anyone not allied with him. Moriz and Halbert are still your bodyguards—do you want me to assign Alvin and Gerard as well?”

“No. I have my magic, and besides, they would be hurt by the lack of confidence.”

Keverin snorted. “If they heard you say that, they would drag the entire guard after you.”

“Don’t tell them!” she said horrified at the thought. “I’ll stay in the palace for the next few days. Gy will be on the throne by then and all this will be over.”

“Let us hope so.”

“Have faith in Halden, he will see it done.”

“I have faith in the ultimate goodness of the God, and I have faith in you. That suffices.”

She smiled. “And I have faith in our love.”

Julia danced twice in a row with Keverin, but she sat out the next two and took the opportunity to eat something before dancing with Jihan. As with all his training, he danced to perfection. Lucius and Lysara were smitten with each other. Neither was interested in dancing with anyone else. Gylaren paid his attention to Jessica, and Purcell his to Isolde. Keverin spoke at length with one or two of the undecided lords and managed to win lord Horlen to the side of the angels. One more vote for Gylaren was helpful, but Keverin wasn’t satisfied. He went back to continue his battle of words.

The night was moving apace now, but there seemed no end in sight. What had been another boring political affair had turned into a genuinely enjoyable event. Most of the lady’s were dancing, and even some of Ascol’s lackeys had succumbed to the party atmosphere. Maybe the breach between Deva’s lords could be healed after all. Once Gylaren was crowned, much of the animosity would fade. Julia hoped so at least.

“—new town, lady?” Lord Horton said.

Julia raised an eyebrow wondering what the Lord of Choma was after. He was a strong ally of Ascol. She had tried to
persuade
him to join Gylaren’s cause, but he had refused outright. He told her to make copies of the letters and distribute them far and wide if she wanted to, but he would never give in to blackmail. It was a shame he was her enemy. She rather liked a man who was willing to stand up for his principals. Of course, it wouldn’t stop her from burning him down if he tried to harm Gy or her other friends, but she did like him all the same.

“That’s right,” she said. “It’s called Morton.”

“That is what I had heard.”

“Keverin ordered its construction so that those displaced from West Town during the war would have new homes.”

“Paid for with Athione’s treasure?” Horton asked.

“That’s right. What’s this about?”

“There was a mine once…” Horton said seemingly feeling his way forward. “A coal-mine I heard.”

“What else have you heard?”

“That this mine—if mine there is, was played out. I have heard a story… but I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Go on,” Julia said. “Tell me this story. Does it have a happy ending?”

Horton looked at her sharply expecting mockery. Julia kept her features smooth not giving away her surmise. Horton was fishing for something. She could smell an offer of some kind in the wind.

“This rumour… this story came to me through a merchant I have had dealings with.”

“His name?”

“He is a reliable man, this merchant,” he said ignoring her enquiry. “He told me this story, and told it as fact.”

“Yes?”

“He said the mine has coal in it again. He said a certain person magicked it down there—his words I hasten to add. Magicked, like it was fact. Know you anything of this?”

Julia’s eyes narrowed. “And if I did? How would this be of interest to Choma?”

“Do you know anything of my lands, Lady?”

Julia shook her head.

“Choma lies south.”

“Yes?”

“Choma and Chulym abut one another. Know you that?”

She nodded. “I have heard of Chulym. Hard times have befallen it.”

Chulym had been the home of the master swordsmiths. The city had thrived for centuries sustained by its quality metal goods, but King Pergann had destroyed Chulym’s trade with unreasonable demands for swords to outfit an army. When the guild refused him, he raised taxes and the price of iron from the crown mines in an effort to force them to comply. The smiths left Deva en masse, and Chulym collapsed into ruin. Chulym survived now by producing poor quality goods—farm tools and piss poor daggers that no one but the desperate would buy.

“Hard times indeed,” Horton said grimly. “Chulym and Choma are as alike as peas in a pod. Chulym thrives, Choma thrives, but if Chulym falters—”

“Choma follows?”

“Indeed yes, Lady. Chulym is a mere shadow of what it was. With the Chulym trade gone, my lands have struggled to maintain a modicum of prosperity. I have turned to farming and horse breeding in an effort to raise trade. I’ve had some small success, but my people are still poor. My farms barely feed them.”

“I’m sorry for your people’s suffering,” she said, and she was. She felt sorry for those less fortunate than Athione’s people, but what could she do that she was not already doing? “What has this to do with your story about a coal-mine?”

“Ah… if you are indeed the one who magicked coal into existence, might you not magic up copper?”

Julia frowned, copper? “I don’t think I follow you, Lord Horton. You wish me to make you some copper—whatever for?”

“You misunderstand, Lady. Long ago—before the Founding even—Japura ruled all the land that is now Deva. They did nothing with it of course, they have plenty of land on their side of the Elvissan Mountains, but they did have interests here.”

“Mines,” Julia said deadpan.

“Exactly so. Copper is highly regarded in Japura, and not for the usual things like plates and bowls. Glass making is important to them and—”