Hope (20 page)

Sir Lanclor watched them ride outside the window of his workroom almost every day. At first, Lady Kathryn was an incompetent rider. She didn’t sit up straight, her stirrups were too long, and she didn’t give the mare enough rein. Over the weeks, she had fixed her posture, knew how to adjust her tack, and guided the mare around the practice ring with confidence. He thought it was a combination of the mounted warfare drills and the mare’s instructions.

She broke from her routine one evening and decided to try out the track a short distance from the practice ring. Knights used the track to condition the horses for long charges toward the enemy. He was so used to seeing armored and mounted men using the practice ring that he was taken by surprise when Lady Kathryn walked the mare out of the stall, mounted, and walked her to the track, unarmored.

There weren’t any other horses on the track, so there was no danger to horse or rider. She then proceeded to ride the mare around the track, purely for the enjoyment of it based upon the visible smile on her face. They mesmerized him, the way they moved as one—Lady Kathryn’s white wings blending with the white mare, her brown hair flowing behind her like the mare’s tail, perfect synchronization between horse and rider. Beautiful.

A knock upon the door pulled Lanclor away from the window. He returned to his desk and took his seat. "Enter."

The door opened to present Lord Alextor. "Lanclor," he said with a nod, "has there been any luck in the library?"

Lanclor rose to his feet. "We’ve found a few spells which may help, but nothing that will turn the tides. At least a spell that’s safe enough to use." Alextor nodded and then stood in silence. "I have a feeling you didn’t just want an update on our progress."

"I came to talk to you about the other Earthling, Hal. I don’t know anything about him. For a personal reason could you tell me more about him? Is he a good warrior? How are his magic skills? What type of bloodlines does he have?"

"Hal, Milord? Why do you ask?" Lanclor couldn’t help but question his motives.

"Well, I’m merely interested in a new knight." Alextor took one look at Lanclor’s doubtful stare and gave up. "Nidira. I think she’s taken a real fancy to him. She has no idea, but I have my ways of knowing what goes on and there’s something definitely going on between the two of them. I’d just like to know if it’s something I should put a stop to."

Hal and Nidira? Lanclor never would have suspected. Usually, Lord Alextor’s spies were dependable, so Lanclor just assumed they were correct about this. "Hal is an excellent swordsman. He’s learning faster than any knight I’ve ever known. His magic ability is laughable, but I wouldn’t want to challenge him to armed or unarmed combat. His ability is equivalent to what mine was a few cycles ago and I could still beat every knight back then. He can’t match me, but he’s damn close. In terms of his bloodlines, he’s never talked about them."

"So he’s that good? When it comes to Nidira, it doesn’t matter who she chooses, but I don’t want her to end up with someone not worthy of her. I want her to choose someone who will take care of her in hard times, someone who is willing to risk everything for her."

"People cannot choose whom they love, Milord. That’s something my father taught me a long time ago and I’ve found it to be the truth. You can tell Nidira not to see Hal, but if she loves him, she’ll defy your orders to see him anyway."

"You’re right." Alextor sighed and remained quiet for several seconds. "On to other matters. I want to send some scouting parties to the outlying villages. There has been some talk about trade stoppages in some areas. I want to make sure the villages are still there."

"I’ll send the scouts out tomorrow evening. That way, they can avoid any Daemon confrontations and more easily spot any cook fires in the villages."

"Very well. Tomorrow evening will be sufficient. Be safe, Sir Lanclor."

"Be safe, Lord Alextor." Alextor turned and left Lanclor's workroom without a backwards glance. There was a time when he would have stayed for a drink and a game of
khlurs
. Those days were long gone, fleeing with the donning of their unique armor and the memories of those they Bore. Some memories were harder than others to overcome. When you had memories of betrayal, it was difficult to remember the true man behind the armor—the man who existed in the present, not the one who existed in the past.

Lanclor walked back to the window. Lady Kathryn still rode the mare around the track, but at a slower pace. He longed for the days when he could enjoy life as much as she did in that moment. All cares and concerns discarded as the wind flowed through her hair, the speed of her horse causing her heart to race in excitement, not a care in the world as it blurred by. He had to suppress the urge to ready Laktalin and ride beside Lady Kathryn, longing to forget the worries of this endless war. He turned away from the window with regret, seated himself once again behind his desk, and drew up the knight list for scouts to send to the outlying villages.

With the increase in drills, Sir Lanclor and Kathryn worked out a routine to continue their search without taking time away from training. They had moved their meeting time to lunchtime and ate together in the library. Kathryn smiled when she remembered Sir Lanclor insisting that she have the same meal as he did so he wouldn't feel guilty when she ate the Meal Room food. He had his own personal cook who she had to admit far surpassed those of the Meal Room.

They were so used to working with each other at that point that he cast the level 1 ice spell upon the water pitcher without arguing with her about it. They had a discussion during their second meal together about how water tasted so much better when it was cold. He admitted he was so used to drinking it warm that he never even thought of trying it any other way.

As Sir Lanclor speared his chicken pieces smothered in vegetable sauce, he suddenly dropped his fork and pointed at a spell in his book—Lost Spells: Book 10. "Listen to this. The Conceal Spell: This spell bends the light around the caster, rendering him visually undetectable to those around him. This spell can be expanded like a shield spell to surround those around the caster."

"An invisibility spell? That would be handy." That is, as long as some guy didn't decide to use it to go into a woman's bedroom or something. She wondered if Sir Lanclor was the type to use it in that way. Kathryn heard rumors that Sir Lanclor was over forty cycles old. She assumed a cycle was the same as a year, but she couldn't imagine a forty-year-old man behind his imposing black armor, so perhaps it was less than a year.

"It would be useful, in the right hands. I worry that someone would try to use it to harm Lord Alextor. I don't know if I could risk having it become common knowledge." He looked at her, his tone asking that she not mention it to anyone.

"I agree, but it wouldn't hurt for a select few to know it in case we need it."

He sighed, but nodded. "You're right. I’d definitely like to have it in the battlefield." He added it to their list, and then continued to scan the book while he finished his lunch.

She turned the page, pausing to scoop up the last of her chicken. Before her fork was halfway to her mouth, her vision blurred to a new Sight.

Sir Lanclor strode toward her with his black armor blending with the darkness of the night, his helmet less head concealed in the shadows. He was alone in the night as he drew his sword and knelt before her. There was some type of moving blackness between them and a low wall that contained it. Water? He placed the tip of his sword on the ground and placed his hands upon the top of the pommel. He began quietly to speak to her, but she could only hear some of the words. "...sacrificed...peace...was the cost?... corruption...sadness...unbearable...go on...hope."

When her eyes refocused on her surroundings, Sir Lanclor looked at her curiously. "Is everything all right?"

She couldn't think of anything to say. In the Sight, he had sounded so sad, but toward the end, his voice had firmed with confidence. She felt that this was one Sight she shouldn't share with him. He might treat her differently if he thought he would someday need to kneel before her. It was just too weird. "I'm fine. I was just lost in thought is all."

She thought he could tell she was lying, but chose to respect her privacy. "Maybe we should finish a little early today. We both could use a break from this." He rose from his seat and started to gather the lunch dishes.

She gathered the books and replaced them on their shelves. The invisibility spell was a good find today, but wasn’t something that would turn the tides. She thought they were both frustrated. There was no order to the Lost Spell books in terms of where the more powerful spells were located. A level 75 ice spell came right before a level 20 Wind spell. It seemed like the entire search would take forever. Perhaps it was a good time to leave early.

As they both pushed in their chairs, Sir Lanclor dropped the tray of dishes and flew backward to crash against one of the sturdy bookshelves. Something held him in the air. His feet didn't touch the ground as he clawed at the unseen hands squeezing his neck. She felt a presence similar to that from the throne room all around her, focused completely on Sir Lanclor.

She recognized the spell from Book 49 called Focusing. It allowed the caster to focus his power on the air around a creature, using it as a weapon. It appeared the Lost Spell books also contained some Forbidden spells, something that disturbed Sir Lanclor as the books had been available to any knight.

Kathryn froze for a few seconds, searching her brain for a useful spell. She cast a level 45 Break spell from Book 50 that would break up any spell for a short time to allow a defender time to bring up a shield.
Ma’ke lene’kolar fin’a’alekai nata’lenti’fe
. The words of power echoed in her mind. With her lips tight, she concentrated on annihilating the spell killing Sir Lanclor.

As Sir Lanclor fell to the floor, she ran over to him, casting the highest-level elemental and physical shields she knew, somewhere between levels 90 and 95.
Wi’nah f’enk’e’alath eath’nak’inta war’e’slenth shel’ant’re melan’ke’toh sel’anthia
.
Mel’ati falen’tria nal’urenth pa’lamor she’ant’re clu’bena sel’anthia.
She felt more spells cast at her shields, but to no effect. The presence retreated, but she tied off her shields anyway just in case.

Kneeling over Sir Lanclor and praying he wasn't beyond help, she assessed his condition.
Mel’int ent’bel’ak
. Bruises lined his throat and the attack had damaged his windpipe. He clutched his chest, each breath filled with a bubbling gurgle. The air barely traveled to his lungs and his blood clogged the passage. He wouldn’t survive long enough for Master Vetera to reach them. Kathryn did the only thing she could. She attempted a healing.

Lak’oth ent’me’unt
. Reading about healing and doing it was not the same. The scent of pine and cinnamon engulfed her before her awareness sank into him and felt his body screaming for air. She let his body's natural healing abilities guide her, accelerating the healing process and repairing his throat. The spell acted as a funnel, channeling her magical energy into his body. The bleeding stopped while whatever remained was absorbed back into his body.

The bruises began to fade from a deep purplish blue, to green, then yellow. The air returned to his lungs and she tried to close off the flow of magic. The funnel held her, turning more into an open dam of a flowing river. Panicking, she closed off her mind from the power and was able to retreat back into her own body. The whole process took only minutes, but she felt as if she’d run a dozen marathons without a break. Like someone cutting the strings of a puppet, she collapsed.

Chapter 28

Lanclor could finally breathe, the air no longer painfully stuck in his throat. He opened his eyes only to see Lady Kathryn fall upon him. Confused, he carefully lifted her off to the side before he remembered all that had happened. He had flown backwards, unable to breathe. Something, someone, strangled him and he remembered it suddenly stopping.

He reached under his helmet to feel his neck. It was tender, but undamaged. Lady Kathryn must have healed him. Healing was a dangerous gift, one that could kill the user if she didn't know how to control it. It could suck the life right out of the healer and put it into the victim. She was full of surprises.