The Blackguard (Book 2) (24 page)

With an agonizingly slow upward motion, Aorun dragged the knife piercing a kidney and went about damaging other organs. Maxis’ screams were loud, despite the gag, as the pain flooded through him. Aorun took delight in moving his way slowly up to the mage’s diaphragm.

“I am going to go a little higher now. It will stop you from being able to get air. You will live a short time, unable to really breathe. I find it a most interesting way to watch a man die.” Aorun pulled up one more time and pierced the man's diaphragm, abruptly cutting off the man’s muffled screams. Maxis hung there, still alive and trying to breathe, his eyes dazed with pain.

Aorun moved around front of Maxis again, tossing the knife aside and picking up his bottle without the glass. After retrieving his dagger from Maxis’ leg, he sat on a barrel, drinking as the life slowly faded from guardsman’s eyes. Only when Aorun was truly sure that Maxis was dead did he upend the bottle and head out to the whorehouse. There was more than one way to forget a bad day.

Chapter Eighteen

Life quickly took on a routine inside the Blackguard caves. Alador would get up in the morning and check under the pillow, but the scroll case was never there: Mesiande had not written him back since his last letter. He could only guess that she’d decided that his writing of magic and dragons was just too much, but he didn’t stop hoping. He had asked Keelee if she had seen it, but the girl had just looked at him in confusion. Alador had warned her that should she find such a tube, she was not to move it. He missed Mesiande, and he still intended to be at the circle next year. He could only hope that she had just decided not to write and that nothing had happened to her.

Each morning, Keelee would have Alador’s things laid out for him. He felt more secure in the armor he’d been provided, though it had taken some getting used to. Then he’d hurry off to breakfast with Flame, and then to his classes. Alador had studied hard on offensive spells, but he hadn’t seen Maxis again since that first day on the fields. He didn’t know if the man was avoiding him, or if he’d left the caverns. Alador was always relieved to see Jon appear at the end of his time in the practice fields.

The worst part of his day was the repetition in his magic classes. He could quickly learn simple spells, but his classes still forced him to cast them over and over again. Patience was not Alador’s strong suit; this monotonous repetition of spells was both boring and seemed like a waste of his time.

Dinner was his favorite time. Alador had found that Jon was extremely
knowledgeable, and they’d often return to the fields after dinner to practice, study, or just talk. Jon had shared that he was scheduled to be assigned before the next summer; he seemed pleased enough about this. Alador, however, worried about this – he had a good idea of what a commander would do with the skills that his friend possessed.

Another reason he liked dinner was that everyone gave him a wide berth when he was with the death mage. He didn’t have to worry about questions about Keelee or his uncle, which sat just fine with Alador considering how exhausted he usually was by dinner. During the rest of the day, it was commonplace for his classmates to ask him about his uncle. Everyone seemed relieved that Luthian had not visited since he’d joined the Blackguard. When he’d asked Jon about this, the death mage had shared that Luthian used to come weekly to the caverns, and sometimes people were severely punished. He didn’t go into details, and Alador didn’t ask.

His half-days with Luthian became a game of cat and mouse. His uncle would teach him things he wanted Alador to know; Alador would constantly seek the things his uncle tried to keep hidden. In the same game, Alador sidestepped more personal questions about his own desires and goals for fear of giving his uncle something he could use over him. Despite the tension in this strange dance, Alador rather liked his visits with his uncle. Luthian had insured that Alador would meet members of council and upper tiers; Alador was becoming more comfortable at dinners and political appearances, as a result.

He still felt like Luthian’s new favorite possession, however. His uncle had chosen a wardrobe and always
had a servant lay out robes that would coordinate with his own. Alador hadn’t failed to notice that he always seemed to be shadowed by his uncle, much as the backdrops in his brother Tentret’s drawings.   

Alador enjoyed spending his half-days with his father, though. They would discuss strategy, or learn magic Alador knew his uncle didn’t want him to know. He had learned spells like creating a field of magic around him that lesser spells could not penetrate. He had learned how to turn back a spell on the other caster and even how to make himself invulnerable to magic for a short time, though he couldn’t cast as long as he used this kind of protection. He still planned to talk to that dragon, so knowing how to protect against Keensight’s breath weapon was going to be important.

Henrick was also teaching Alador how to enchant items, something Alador had specifically asked to learn. If he could leave the Blackguard, Alador hoped to start a life as a traveling enchanter as his father. He loved these spells and had enchanted his own blade and arrows. He’d even made sure to include both Flame’s and Jon’s so that they’d have an edge if Maxis and his friends should ever become so bold again.

The only thing that bothered Alador on his half-days was the sense that he was being followed. He’d attempted to backtrack and catch his shadow, but had failed every time. He’d even taken some unusual routes, but never felt like he had shaken this set of unseen eyes. He had mentioned it to his father, but Henrick had not much to offer.
 Henrick had suggested that it was likely Luthian had some sort of mage’s eyes on him through a scrying pool or something similar.

Keelee would go visit her father during these half-days - apparently he was a merchant of some sort on the
second tier. Why Keelee could not return to her father instead of the trenches was something Alador didn’t understand. It seemed to him that, as a father, he wouldn’t want his daughter to be a body servant. But Keelee had shrugged Alador off the day he’d mentioned she might go home and, when he had attempted to press the matter, had taken on a full out pout. Alador found himself unwilling to make the woman unhappy. She asked little from him and made life easier by keeping his room clean and his belongings organized. She warmed his bed and often sought his attentions rather than him asking to seek hers.

Flame had taken to escorting Keelee on her half-days. Alador felt no sense of jealousy; he had meant it when he’d told her that her body was hers. She had made a point of telling him that Flame was always a perfect gentleman. Given Flame’s reputation throughout the caverns, Alador doubted that he was ever a perfect gentleman. He saw them sometimes, heads close together and laughing at some private joke, but Alador let them go about their time together without questions; he didn’t really care to know. It gave him time alone, which was a luxury in the caverns.

She still slept in his bed every night, and had truly become his body servant. Alador had fought twinges of guilt for the first few weeks, but as time stretched on with no word from Mesiande, he’d become more accepting of Keelee’s attentions. Alador continued to rationalize that she was earning her keep and since he did not force her, there was no harm.

He still had dreams of the dragons, usually a repeat of the dream from the magic pool or the one of Renamaum and Keensight above the bloodmine valley.
He always woke up feeling like he was missing something crucial, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Fall had drifted in with the fog, and with it, more rain would come in off the sea. The caverns were often damp, but Alador was usually able to keep his room completely dry with his growing mastery of water. The caverns did not seem to change in temperature much, but the dampness made it feel chilly when compared to the heat of late summer.

It was on such a fall day that Alador was spending one of his half-days to visit his uncle.  As usual, robes were laid out. The one time that Alador had come down in something less formal, Luthian had just spelled him with the outfit he had chosen in the first place.  Rather than get into a war over his clothing, Alador had given in.  He had gotten used to the robes over time and now did not find them nearly as uncomfortable.  

Luthian had been
teaching Alador draconic.  Most higher level spells, he had learned, were written in this complex language.  Last half-day, Luthian had sent him home with a book to practice. It had been a book on the use of storms in magic.  How to call lightning, create windstorms and even snowstorms.  The spells for an actual storm were complex and required components present to actually draw from. The type of storm desired each had variations in the components required.  Alador’s growing understanding of the draconic language had increased throughout the week as he was fascinated with this book.  His favorite spell was the one that called lightening. It felt natural to feel the sparks of light dancing in his hands.

So far, Luthian had not shown up but that was not unusual.
 Alador was working in the practice room on the creation of a small whirlwind.  He laughed with delight as his robes whipped around him sending the small swirling mass around the room at his direction.  He had not heard the door open so when the voice spoke, he lost concentration and the dust in the wind fell to the ground slowly as the spiral died down.

“Very impressive in just a week.”
 Luthian clapped his hands together slowly as he shut the door and walked further into the room.  “I am impressed.  I had expected you to still be struggling with the translation a bit.”  

Alador had not wanted his uncle to discern how much he had picked up and was rather frustrated that he had not
been more careful.  “I find the language fascinating uncle.  But I fear I have not got much past the chapter with the wind.”  It was a lie, but one that now slipped off his tongue quite easily.  Lying to his uncle had become normal to him.

“I see.
 Well, impressive none the less.” Luthian walked over to the cupboard to pull out some items as he spoke further.  

“Uncle, why is this language not taught to the Blackguard?”
 He asked as he moved to take a few items from Luthian to carry to the table.

“There are two reasons.
 First, if a spell is attempted without the proper amount of power in the mage, the results can be disastrous.  The second reason is a matter of loyalty.  I do not trust most of the Blackguard to truly remain loyal with more power than they are allowed.  Some have been found to have motivations that support Lerdenia and have shown ability. Those are taught privately the language and the spells that will support the Blackguard and the mage.”  Luthian set a large spellbook on the table carefully.

It was a book that he had not let Alador look through though for practice, would show appropriate
pages.  Alador wanted that book more than anything he had seen in his uncle’s mansion. “You trust me with this knowledge.” He pointed out.

“You are family.” Luthian conceded. “I cannot have a nephew of mine who is poorly trained.
 It would just not look right.”   

Alador tipped his head to look at his uncle in disbelief. “You do not strike me as one who gives a care for what others think?”

“Usually I do not.” Luthian admitted. “However, I have been unable to produce a child and that makes you the heir of our line.”

Alador had not considered this.
 His father had mentioned no other children and now that he thought about it, neither one had housemates.  His father often had some beautiful woman in his home for a short time and his uncle had them everywhere.  Yet, there was no consistency in the women that attended either man.  “Why do you not take a mate?”

“I find that a woman changes once you are paired. I have watched many women remove their own mates from their path to gain power.
 I prefer to sleep safely at night.”  Luthian shared this in a factual manner.

“What exactly am I inheriting?” He knew that the place on the tiers was earned by each mage
’s merit; that you could only live in household of a higher mage by his grace and goodwill.  

“Your father and I are hardly without means.
 In addition, I would not see the Guldalian line die with us both and other than you, I doubt there is more suitable heir to our power and knowledge.”  Luthian smiled warmly at Alador.

“But, I am a half-breed.
 They cannot rise above the third tier.”  Alador pointed out with a frown.  “Do you not want an heir that is of full blood?” Luthian was quiet for a moment as he leafed through the thick book in front of him.  

“That would be what was most desired, but… At this time, you are what I have.”
 Luthian soft cold tones made clear that Alador was not his first choice in heirs.

“And if either of you should have a full child, what then?” Alador asked watching his uncle closely.
 

“Then you will have benefitted greatly at no loss to me for you are still family and will make a powerful ally.” Luthian looked at Alador blandly.

Alador was frustrated that he could not read behind his uncle’s mask.  The man could lie so easily and there was no indication of it in tone or facial expressions. Something he was learning to copy.  He made sure to tell half-truths now and then in a way Luthian would catch so he would not look too closely at the things Alador was attempting to keep hidden.  He had taken his father’s warning of Luthian’s ill intent quite seriously.  

Before Alador could respond, Luthian beckoned him over.
 “See if you can make this out.”  He pointed to a short spell on the page he had finally found in his searching.

Alador moved beside him and with much difficult began to work to make out the draconic words.
 

“Ekess vehafor vi zkhaaneth, ir zklaen tepoha vi yoweth montu de svaklar ir shilta focus. nurti rechan nomeno tija de vi … lae coi geou qe ….. irsa wer ….. di wer tharm.”

He looked up at Luthian. “A maelstrom, like spinning water?” He looked back down at the instructions trying to make out the words he did not recognize.

“Very good.
 This is what we will practice today.  Memorize the words and then we will go on a short walk to a bathing pool for you to attempt such a thing.”   Luthian instructed firmly.