The Archmage unbound m-3 Read online

  Penny leaned toward me after I had sat down, “You’re getting better at that but it is still embarrassing when I have to start without knowing when you’re going to show up.” Her voice was pitched low enough that no one would overhear us and I could tell by her inflection that she was only mildly annoyed.

  “Sorry,” I said sincerely.

  “Just send me a note if you’re going to be late so I don’t have people standing around waiting for you before we just decide to eat anyway,” she replied. Since taking on the mantle of lady of the castle she had become markedly more demure and courteous… at least in public. I let my eyes wander over her, taking in the modest dress she wore. It was complemented by the sapphire earrings and necklace that she wore. Her attire was tasteful without being extravagant and I could not help but admire her beauty. Penny’s eyes met mine and she spoke again, “Stop staring… you’ll set people to talking.”

  I grinned at her, “Let them talk. I’m married to the most beautiful woman in the world. It would be more unusual if I didn’t stare now and then.” I didn’t bother to keep my voice low either.

  She blushed and gave me a look that told me I’d pay for embarrassing her, but it was a pleasant look. “What were you doing that was so important it kept you and Dorian from coming to dinner on time?” she said, changing the subject deftly. “Lady Rose was most disappointed when he wasn’t here at the start.”

  Rose Hightower happened to be sitting next to her when she said that and she shot Penny a warning glance. “I was merely concerned,” she said, dabbing at her lips with a hand towel.

  Dorian spoke up then, “Forgive me for worrying you lady, I was merely educating my good friend the Count as to the particulars of the armorer’s craft.” As usual he seemed completely oblivious. I was beginning to doubt he would ever realize his love wasn’t unrequited… then again perhaps he kept himself in the dark on purpose. If he ever admitted to himself that she felt as he did he might be forced to do something about it. That was probably a more terrifying possibility for him than facing the army of Gododdin had been.

  “Armorer’s craft?” Rose said, lifting one eyebrow in an artful expression of surprise. “Is the good Count planning another war so soon?” As she spoke I watched her carefully, despite her conversational skills her eyes lingered on Dorian much longer than they did anywhere else.

  “Stop that Rose, and you as well Dorian. I’ve told you both to call me by my name. This isn’t some state function, it’s dinner, and this is my home,” I said.

  Dorian chuckled; they both loved teasing me with my newfound station. “Careful Rose, we mustn’t offend our kind host,” he said in mock seriousness.

  “Very true Dorian! Please forgive us Mordecai,” Rose responded, joining him in the game. As she spoke she put her hand lightly across his forearm. It was a small gesture, one intended to emphasize her words, but I would have bet a pound of gold he’d never move that arm so long as her hand rested there. She probably knew it too. Women are devious.

  I sighed, pretending to be annoyed so they could continue their game. “Could I get some wine?” I spoke loudly enough for the man passing behind to hear, for I assumed he was one of the serving staff. Yes, I do have serving staff now… not to mention hiring a full time messenger. Whoever it was ignored my request and continued on, passing through the doorway that led to the kitchen. “That’s odd,” I said to Penny, “Did I speak too softly?” I hadn’t bothered to turn my head so I wasn’t entirely sure who had ignored me.

  She smiled at me, “It might help if there had been a servant near enough to hear you.”

  “There was!” I protested, “A tall fellow, almost my own height.”

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken this time Mort. No one has gone by for a minute or more, but I think I see one of the maids coming now…” She lifted her hand and waved one of our servers over, Lisette was her name I thought. She quickly hurried off to fetch a cup and some wine for me.

  I frowned and closed my mouth. In point of fact I hadn’t actually looked around but I was so accustomed to using my ‘extra’ senses that I hadn’t needed to do so. I was quite certain a man had passed by, even if Penny hadn’t noticed him. There was little point in arguing though; in any case the wine was coming so I had nothing to complain about.

  “Mordecai, you never did answer my question,” Rose reminded me.

  I was startled from my thoughts, “About?” It took me a moment before I remembered. “Oh, the armor!” I exclaimed. “I’d rather not talk about it here. I’d like to keep the details quiet until I’m ready to announce the plans. Perhaps we can discuss it later?”

  “Ooh a mystery!” Rose replied with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “It isn’t anything that exciting, trust me,” Penny assured her. “Of much more interest would be the topic of your visit with Cyhan today. You still have not told me how it went.”

  Apparently Penny was not alone in her curiosity, for everyone leaned closer. I took a deep breath, hoping to finish the tale in one go rather than have to repeat myself. “It went about as well as can be expected. He and I agreed to disagree.”

  Rose broke in, “That sounds remarkably civilized when the disagreement was over whether you have the right to continue breathing.” The humor in her voice was gone now. Rose had been quite angry about Cyhan’s decision to end our working relationship so violently. I wasn’t quite sure if it was because he had hurt Penny in the process or the fact that he might have killed Dorian in his attempt to get to me.

  Dorian laid a hand on her shoulder, as if to calm her down. The gesture made the two of them seem very familiar; although I’m sure he didn’t realize it. “Rose, he may be our enemy now but to give the man credit he was only acting according to his oath and his principles.” I couldn’t help but wonder that just an hour or two prior he had been chiding me for letting my enemy walk free yet now Dorian was defending the man.

  Rose gave him a sharp glance, “Honor be damned! He turned his sword against his student and his friend,” she said, looking at Penny and me each in turn, “and against you.” She punctuated the end of her sentence by jabbing Dorian firmly in the chest. “Any oath that requires such a thing needs to be re-examined. Blind obedience is the refuge of a fool too scared to think for himself!”

  Penny’s face was a study in conflicting emotions but she put her feelings away and tried to steer the conversation back to practical matters. “All those things aside, what did you do Mort?”

  “I sent him back to the king with a message,” I replied simply.

  “A damn foolish thing to do,” Dorian supplied.

  Rose snorted, “We agree on that at least.”

  “You’re probably right, but I wouldn’t have the man executed for doing his duty,” I answered.

  Dorian grimaced, “His duty will see you dead and he should not be taken lightly. I can respect his decision but when you have a sworn foe in your grasp you don’t hand him a dagger and turn him loose.”

  “What message did you send him with?” Rose asked quietly.

  “The king has asked me to meet with him, privately. I changed the time and place and sent the information along with Cyhan,” I said.

  Penny looked at me sharply, “You said you weren’t going.” She kept her voice level but there was a certain amount of worry in it.

  “I changed my mind. I’m still not going to meet him at the time and place of his choosing; rather I’ll meet him on my own terms.”

  “That’s wise, since it’s even odds your meeting would be an ambush. Getting rid of you would solve a lot of the King’s problems at one go. Where do you intend to meet him?” Rose asked intently.

  I smiled, “In his bedroom.”

  “Somehow I doubt his majesty will agree to that,” Dorian observed.

  “He won’t be given the option to decline,” Penny snapped at him impatiently. The tension in her shoulders was unmistakable. “Are you sure this is wise? This isn’t what we discussed earlier.” She and I had
gone over the topic the night before and now I had changed the plan.

  To give her credit, my wife is no shrinking violet. I had come to respect her as a woman of courage and determination, but she was sometimes a bit timid when it came to risking my health. I suppose that made some sense, considering she was expecting our first child. I glanced down at her already swelling waist. Looking up again I met her eyes, “I’m sorry love. I know you’re worried, but I have to clear things between myself and the king or we’ll never have peace. I think this is the only chance we’ll have.”

  She saw the look in my eye and knew there was little sense in arguing. “You’d best be right, or I’ll make sure you spend whatever’s left of your life regretting it.” It was no idle threat coming from her.

  “Our child will have a father,” I assured her. Penny’s determination was possibly one of her most beautiful qualities.

  “A surprise meeting will introduce a certain amount of tension into your discussion. Are you sure that’s what you want?” Rose asked, breaking into the conversation again.

  “Absolutely,” I stated. “Edward needs to understand that I’m negotiating from a position of strength or he’ll never respect any bargain we make.”

  The discussion went on for a solid hour after that, but I had already made up my mind. When all was said and done, no one liked my decision but there weren’t any better suggestions made. Only the future would tell whether it was a good idea or not.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning I decided to take a break from my usual routine. Rather than head to the forge and resume work on my next bit of armor crafting I went looking for my other childhood friend. Thanks to Dorian I had paid better attention at dinner the night before and managed to notice a notable absence at the table.

  I wondered how many other meals Marc had missed without me bothering to ask about him. Times like this made me realize that I wasn’t exactly the best friend a fellow could have. Sure, I had plenty of excuses… a new wife, a county to run, but I still couldn’t allow myself that luxury. Excuses would always be plentiful, true friends were not.

  I didn’t see Marc at breakfast so I headed for the room he had been staying in. Pausing at the door I listened for a moment. I heard nothing and my other senses told me that my friend was inside, alone but awake. I had almost hoped he would have a ‘companion’ with him… that would have done much to allay my worries. It really wasn’t natural for him to spend so much time alone; Marc had always been a highly social animal. I knocked on the door and waited.

  There was no response though with my ability I could sense him pouring another drink from a bottle. I could only assume it was wine. I knocked again and spoke loudly, “Marc it’s me, open up!” He chose not to answer and instead slumped over as if he were sleeping. He knew I could sense him through the door. “That’s not going to work,” I yelled at the wooden door, “I already know you’re awake.”

  “Go away!” came a muffled response from within.

  I’d had enough so with a word I unlocked the door and opened it. Marc was sitting on the divan across the room, staring bleakly at me as I entered. He was holding the wine bottle in a curious fashion in one hand. “What are you planning to do with that?” I asked.

  “I was giving serious consideration to the thought of tossing it at you,” he said dryly, “but then I decided it would be a waste of good wine.” He changed his grip on the bottle and turned it up, taking a long swallow directly from the bottle.

  “You look like shit,” I volunteered.

  “Thanks,” he replied. “That means a lot to me… coming from you.” His tone was surly and I could tell he was ready for a fight.

  “If that’s your idea of witty repartee you really are drunk.”

  “Not yet, I just woke up. Give me an hour,” he said.

  “Why don’t you give the wine a rest today and help me with some planning?” I suggested. It was actually a half-truth. While I wouldn’t have minded having my friend’s advice on my near future plans I obviously wanted even more to snap him out of his dark mood.

  “I’ve got a better idea Mort!” He sat up suddenly, as if filled with energy and enthusiasm. “Why don’t you go make your plans, and leave me alone? That way you’ll get better plans and I won’t have to listen to your bullshit!” He lifted his bottle again and started to take another long draught of wine.

  “If you’re going to be a sarcastic ass you might as well do it sober,” I replied and before he could react I deftly slipped the bottle from his hand. Ordinarily his reflexes were so quick I’d never have managed to do it… but a lot of hard drinking had made him slow.

  “You ass!” He was too slow to catch the bottle but planting his hands in my chest he gave me a hard shove. I fell backward over a small table and landed on the floor. Marc leaned forward and started to take the bottle back but I planted a foot in his chest and sent him flying across the room. He bounced off the corner post of the bed and crashed into the dressing table. “Bastard! You’ll regret that!” he shouted at me and snatched up a clay water pitcher as it started to fall.

  Even hung over and strung out as he was I had to admire his dexterity at the catch… till he chose to fling said pitcher at my head. The motion caught me off guard and I failed to duck. Thankfully the shield I still habitually kept around myself prevented me from getting a cracked skull. “Hey! You could have seriously hurt someone like that!” Having fought a few times as children we both knew there was an unspoken rule against throwing heavy objects… or doing anything else potentially permanent.

  “As if I could hurt you! You and your stupid shield… why don’t you take that thing off and fight like a real man?” he challenged.

  “Fine!” I yelled back. “You could use a good thrashing. Did it ever occur to you that your family might be worried about you?” As I spoke I dropped my shield, though there was no visible sign of it.

  “My family is none of your damned business!”

  “Your sister is worried about you, so is Dorian.”

  “What about my father eh? I guess he didn’t bother to ask after me did he!?” Marc was standing now and approaching cautiously.

  “At least you have a father!” I shouted back.

  “How long are you going to play the pity card over that one?” he sneered.

  “Till I’ve knocked you on your ass and beaten some sense into your head,” I replied a bit more calmly. My anger was only half real, in the back of my mind I was still trying to calculate what the best way to bring my friend to his senses would be.

  “Still got your shield up?” he asked. From an outside viewpoint it was almost odd how calm he seemed as he asked that question, but it seemed normal enough at the time.

  “No I took it down a moment ago…,” before I could finish my words he caught me in the mouth with a quick jab. I stepped back quickly before he could follow up with another but he didn’t press his advantage. I wiped the blood from my lip… I could already feel it starting to swell. “Not bad,” I commented.

  “Might improve your looks,” he snapped back.

  I stepped forward and took a short swing at him but I found only air. I threw a few more but I still failed to connect till finally he blocked one and planted a sharp punch in my stomach. As he delivered the blow I got my left arm around his shoulder, his second strike drove the air from my lungs but I held on and managed to start a grapple.

  Things improved for me after that. As with our childhood scuffles I was still no match for him in a straight up punching match, but once we had closed I was the better wrestler. My longer legs and arms gave me better leverage and he lost the advantage his quick reflexes normally gave him. We stumbled about the room for several moments before he tried to drive me into the bed post. With a twist I took his momentum and he wound up getting the hard wooden corner in his back.

  With a strangled cry he quit trying to break the grapple. That seemed like a good idea, so I let go and rolled off of him, panting to catch my breath. �
�Are you alright?” I asked.

  “Hell no! It hurts like hell!” He had his hand against his lower back. “That was a shitty move.”

  “You’re the one that tried to run me into it! You’re too damn strong for me to hold you down, so it was either you or me,” I bit back.

  He scowled at me for a long minute while he rubbed at his aching backside. I glared back at him till finally neither of us could take the tension any longer and we broke into grins. A moment after that we started laughing and our anger drained away.

  “Some things never change,” he said once our chuckling slowed down.

  “I thought we had outgrown these little chats.”

  “Me too,” he agreed ruefully.

  “Desperate times require desperate measures,” I announced.

  We were lying on our backs side by side now. The hard wooden floor wasn’t exactly comfortable but neither of us complained. Then Marc spoke again, “Desperate indeed my friend. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it isn’t going to be enough.”

  With a sideways glance I could see him staring at the ceiling. “Why not?” I asked.

  “Because it hurts Mort, it hurts far more than you can possibly realize.” He rolled his head over and caught my gaze. We had been friends for most of our lives and looking into his brown eyes I could see the pain behind them. I watched him for a long moment before he looked away. Tears had begun to well.

  “I don’t understand,” I confessed.

  “Nobody does. Even now, even knowing the truth, I want her so badly it feels as though someone is driving a stake through my heart. It’s painful Mort… excruciatingly painful.” He was referring, of course, to his goddess. Perhaps I should call her his ‘ex-goddess’, Millicenth, the Lady of the Evening Star.

  “We all lose things, it’s a part of life,” I said softly.

  “This isn’t like that Mort. Imagine living happily with Penny for years and years, having children, loving them and receiving their love. Imagine everything you ever wanted, love, respect, trust… all of it. Now imagine you wake up tomorrow and discover that it’s all gone. Not only is it gone, but it never existed. The woman you loved wasn’t real; she was a dream, created for the sole purpose of manipulating you. The children, your life, your happiness, all of it was a lie, fabricated by a being so foreign that it didn’t even hate you… you were merely a tool.” Marc paused for a moment.