“I shall.” She gave T’yl a look, then continued. T’yl and I stepped into his chambers and he closed the door. He also gestured, activating a powerful shielding spell around the room.
“Private conversation, hmm?” I asked.
“Indeed, Your Majesty. I have some concerns.”
“If you’re concerned, I’m concerned. Tell me.”
“It is about Tort, Your Majesty,” he said, sounding nervous.
“Oh?”
“I know you are intimate with her, and that you have strong feelings about her. Yet, I feel I would be remiss indeed if I did not share my thoughts on the matter.”
“T’yl, you’re a trusted advisor and a member of my council. Whether your observations are correct or not, I want them. I understand that you’re a little worried about making me angry. Don’t be. You’ve just warned me that you are only doing your duty by telling me what you think. Okay?”
“Very good, Sire.” He visibly, consciously relaxed. “I believe she is maneuvering to place herself on the throne.”
I waited. He looked at me.
“And?” I prompted.
“She may be planning to take the throne,” he repeated. “I believe her intent is to rule as Queen.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he echoed.
“Amber doesn’t want the job. Tianna’s too young and I doubt she’d enjoy it, either. I know I don’t like it, and I don’t feel that I have the organizational skills needed to run a kingdom, anyway—that’s why I have so many council members. I need all the help I can get. Tort runs the day-to-day stuff and makes an excellent right hand in all matters of internal affairs. Can you think of someone better suited for the job?”
“But… but
you
are the King!”
“Yep. And if she wants the job of ruler, she can ask for it. I might just give it to her. Not because I love her, which I admit freely that I do, but because I think she’d do a swinging job of it.”
T’yl gathered up his jaw and worked it back into place.
“You…” he began, but didn’t know where to go with that. I clapped him on the shoulder.
“I know. But don’t worry about it. She’s a woman, and they’re dangerous, but this one seems intent on being dangerous in ways I can live with,” I said, humoring him.
“For now,” he said. “I don’t fully trust her, Sire, and particularly when that much power is at stake. As a magician, her mischief is limited by her own capabilities. As a ruler, it knows no bounds.”
“You’re forgetting that I’m the King. If she becomes Queen, I’ll be her boundary. But if it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll keep an eye on her and her mischief. If I find something I don’t like, I’ll let you know. Maybe you can help me if she starts to get out of hand.”
“Just as you say, Sire. I have warned you.”
“So you have, and I thank you for it.” I lowered my voice and added, “Please keep an eye on these matters. People are more careful around me; they know I can hear them even at a distance. But you can notice things I’ll miss. Let me know what else you discover.”
“I shall.”
He didn’t seem completely put at ease, but he obviously felt better with royal sanction to listen to gossip. For my part, I made a mental note to pay more attention to what Tort does, just to keep him happy—and because I’d probably have to justify her actions to him. What I go through to keep my friends from being nasty to each other…
Of course, Tort does wear a lot of hats for me; how would I tell if she was plotting after the throne? She does most of the work of governing the place as it is! Besides, if she cared to play a long game, it wasn’t unreasonable to hope for a crown just by marrying me.
Hmm. Do I even own a crown?
I continued my interrupted walk to my rooms and found Tort in conversation with Sedrick.
“Evening,” I offered, and thudded into the carved chair. “What’s on your mind?”
They looked at each other, clearly offering to let the other go first. Tort insisted with her eyes and Sedrick bowed from the neck in assent.
“Majesty, I feel that I am wasted here.”
“Oh? Not enough evil?”
“Exactly. I am a Hero. I quest for evil to destroy, yet the only evil here is the occasional, petty evil found in all men. That is hardly fitting work for a Hero.”
“I don’t know. There’s the never-ending battle for Truth, Justice, and other capitalized things. But I see your point. Your job is to find big evil things and smite them, and there’s nothing worth your powers here.” I sighed. “Well, I’d say I’m sorry, but, you know…”
“Of course, Your Majesty, of course.”
“I do apologize, however. I really thought that horrible nastiness would pop up more often around here. I expected it to keep showing up, but now it seems to be avoiding the place.”
“It’s not your fault, Majesty. Well,” he corrected himself, “perhaps it is your fault, but I doubt anyone can blame you for it.” I chuckled at that.
“Fair enough. Do you plan to leave us?”
“I must.”
“I think I understand. Well, if I may make a suggestion?”
“I would welcome it.”
“Go through Baret and head north. Take a look through the territories of Byrne, if you can. They’re rapidly becoming my major political priority, and I suspect they’re being unpleasant to everyone. I hear rumors of conscription and tyranny, and I suspect there’s at least one professional demon-summoning magician working for the Prince of Byrne. I don’t know if that counts as the sort of evil you want to challenge, but I’d sure like to have a Hero’s opinion on whether or not Byrne is an evil place or not. My own judgment may be a little skewed, you understand, being king of another country.”
“Certainly, Your Majesty. I can look for evil anywhere. Who knows? Byrne may have more than its share.”
“It will take some time for him to ride to Byrne,” Tort said. “Not everyone rides an enchanted steed, my angel.”
“Ah. Yes, there are disadvantages to living so far out in the country. Hmm.” I thought about it for a minute and decided it was probably worth it. “Tell you what. When you get your gear together and get ready to leave, I’m pretty sure I can put you down on the other side of the Eastrange, maybe pretty far north. I’ve got some other errands to run, but… day after tomorrow? Is that too long? Or too soon?”
“I see no reason I could not wait upon Your Majesty’s convenience.”
“Wonderful! I won’t be ready before the day after tomorrow, at the earliest, so there’s no rush to pack. Anytime after that, I think.”
“Nonetheless, I shall hold myself in readiness,” he assured me. “And thank you for your kindness, noble King.”
“Think nothing of it. I’m just here to help.”
“Perhaps you are,” he said, which I found rather cryptic. “By your leave, Majesty?”
“Go.” He went. Tort immediately moved to occupy the Royal Lap. I kissed her lightly before speaking. “You can’t stay there long. I’ve got a lot to get done, and some of it requires me to be dead.”
“Still? What else is there after your long absence?”
“It wasn’t that long.”
“It felt like forever, my angel,” she said. I made a
pfft
noise. She smiled. “It always does. Perhaps not forever, but it was longer than I expected or desired, especially at my age.”
“Ha. I should be back before morning. I have to talk to the sea-people about Mochara’s sewage.”
Her brows drew together as she tried to figure out how those two things related.
“Trust me,” I said, “it’s important. And I have to get going—wait. There is one other thing.”
“Anything, my angel.”
“Do we know farmers who would be willing to go live at Crag Keep? Not that I want to order anyone to go, but I’m thinking of offering a sizable pile of gold, a plow, tools, a pair of horses, a wagon, and all the trimmings. Do you think anyone would take me up on the offer if it meant moving to Crag Keep and setting up farming shop there?”
“Probably. We have marked off a number of plots within each of the four fields, as you described, but there are younger sons who do not stand to inherit. If a bride-price can be included, I feel sure a new couple would find it very tempting. May I ask why you would do this?”
“They were nicer to me than they needed to be,” I told her, “and they need the help. I won’t
send
anyone, but if someone can be paid to go there, I’ll do that much for them.”
“I see. Very well. I will find out if there are any takers.”
“Thank you. Now, I’m off to the ocean, then probably to the lab.”
“Shall I have the stone bridge placed in your workroom?”
“Stone bridge—? Oh. I’ll handle it. Thank you for reminding me.”
“One of my many utilitarian services,” she assured me, and kissed the end of my nose.
“You have lots, as well as your ornamental functions,” I said, and set her on her feet. “But I’m wasting the night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, my angel.”
I ducked into my study while she headed to the bathroom. I found a small, stone model of a bridge in the middle of the floor. It looked a lot like the ones that spanned the gorges for the road to Baret, just tiny.
It was alive. Seriously alive. The mountain had jam-packed vital energy into it. I immediately recognized what it had done. It had created a sort of mountain-seed. If I put this thing on one side of a river, in contact with the ground, I had no doubt it would start to grow. Would it grow enough to span the Averill? Maybe. If it didn’t, though, I could add more vital energy to it to make it grow more.
Would it grow into a mountain? Or would it just be a bridge? I suspected it would just be a bridge. It looked like a bridge, rather than a miniature mountain. Since it didn’t have a vital-energy reactor setup, when it used up all the vital energy stored in it, it would just be regular stone again.
Probably.
I moved the model bridge into my workroom and left it there. I could plant the seed when I dropped Sir Sedrick off. For now, I had a seaside trip to take. Bronze took me out and around and down. We passed by Mochara on the way to the sea, waved at the sentries on the wall, and went right over the low cliff, landing in the water with an enormous splash.
Neither of us needs to breathe. At least, Bronze doesn’t; I don’t need to breathe at night. We just kept going out into deeper water. I squinted and blinked a lot, at first; the salt water stung my eyes.
Firebrand?
Yo.
Can you hear anybody?
You mean any fishy guys?
Yep.
No… but then, I don’t hear anybody all that far away. I only hear you over long distances when you shout.
Got it. I should have given some thought to how I was going to find anybody.
Bait?
it suggested.
Not funny.
No, I mean, is there anything we could use to attract them?
I gave that some thought as Bronze plowed us deeper into the ocean. I knew they liked glass. They also liked gold. Was there anything that they liked that would be useful as an attractant?
Aha
, I thought.
Fire
.
Fire?
They like fire, remember?
Well, yeah, when it’s not so close it’s blinding. Okay. Want me to light up and see what swims over, Boss?
Hold on a second.
Bronze slowed to a halt on a rocky, underwater prominence. I unsheathed Firebrand and held it up. It blazed like a bar of burning magnesium, shedding a hard, harsh light and sending up a boiling, seething column of bubbling steam. The light drove back the abyssal darkness and changed the pure black-and-white of my vision into a brightly-colored tapestry of plants and corals and fish. Fish schooled and swarmed around us, attracted and repelled at once.
We stayed like that for several minutes, waiting. Eventually, a creature, resembling a walrus more than anything else, glided up close enough to see through the swarms of fish. It had long, thick arms ending in three-fingered hands and large, black eyes. It blinked at me several times, turned suddenly, and darted away.
I lowered Firebrand and it stopped burning.
What do you think, Boss?
I think it was sent to look. I don’t know how smart those things are, but they seem to work for the sea-people. My guess is that someone will be along shortly.
And I was right.
A dozen of the walrus-things returned and the fishy schools hastily dismissed class. Behind them, carrying glass-tipped lances, were the sea-people I remembered: Webbed hands with well-defined fingers and legs that ended flippers—I doubt they could walk on land; they didn’t have “ankles.” They wore minimal clothes, mostly utilitarian belts and such, apparently woven out of seaweed.
I got my translation spell ready. I’ve never eaten a sea-person, so I have no familiarity with their whalesong-dolphin-squeaky language. I’m not sure I could say anything in it, anyway. I took a couple of deep breaths to clear the air out of my lungs. Burbling does not help when trying to talk.
They surrounded me, much like the last time, but they seemed to be curious rather than cautious. One of them swam right up to Bronze and looked her in the eye. She blinked at him, just to show that she could. He made a peculiar warbling sound; I think it was laughter. He then reached out, slowly, to stroke Bronze’s forehead. She let him, and he made the sound again.
Then we were surrounded much more closely. Webbed hands roamed everywhere, touching Bronze, tugging at my clothes, taking my hand and examining the unwebbed fingers…
“Excuse me,” I said. The translation spell did its job; they understood the impulse behind the phrase. I was dealing with a rather alien culture, one that might not have corresponding words, so I was using the less precise version of the spell. It broadcast the idea, much like a telepath might, so they “heard” it in their language, in whatever fashion they could understand best.
They backed away suddenly, mostly out of surprise.
“Who are you?” one asked, and I heard both the sound of whalesong and the words. Good spell. Last time I tried to talk to these people, I had to fall back on tendrils and purely psychic communication.