Book 6: Chapter 3 |
“THIS FEELS VERY ODD indeed,” said the Duchess du Bellay. She was sitting in the armchair in my office. I was standing behind her, pressing my palm against the back of her head as part of another round of treatment (or so she thought, at least).
“Is it uncomfortable? I hope it’s not painful?” I asked.
“Au contraire,” she shook her head. “Right now, it feels like warmth is spreading throughout my whole body... This isn’t just a normal treatment, is it?”
In my mind, I couldn’t hold back a chuckle. I had been waiting for the Duchess to ask me that question for some time. She could see her body starting to change for the better. And that wasn’t just a temporary effect, like the treatments from her personal healer-mage or her restorative elixirs.
“It most certainly isn’t, my dear aunt,” I replied. “Right now, I’m finishing the first stage in improving your energy system. Brown mana is strengthening your energy channels, red mana is healing any ruptures, green mana is speeding all these processes along, and amber mana is acting as a painkiller.”
I could feel the Duchess tense up. Which was only fair — this was the first time she had heard what I was actually doing. I was certain that she had also guessed my true motives in doing so. Jeanne du Bellay picked up on nuances like this almost immediately.
And that was good. It made my life easier. I didn’t need to explain to her that her nephew intended to take care of his family and friends, or that I really meant it when I said that.
“Are healers really capable of this kind of thing?” She asked, sounding like she was in a daze.
“You know the answer to that question already,” I smiled.
“Don’t worry.” I ran my hands across her shoulders. “There’s nothing to fear. Quite the contrary... I managed to repair a lot of things in your body. You’ve probably noticed it already.”
“I feel like I’ve grown younger by several years over the course of the last month,” the Duchess admitted. Her voice was trembling slightly. “The headaches are gone, I’m sleeping again, I have my appetite back... And the exhaustion... It used to be constant. But now I’m full of strength. My personal healer, Maitre Lemesier, always assured me that he was doing everything possible, but that my age...”
The Duchess trailed off. Her shoulders started to shudder. She hurriedly took out a lace handkerchief and gently pressed it against her eyes.
Wow, I thought... And she hasn’t even seen what’s coming in the next stages of my “treatment plan.” If I decide to continue, of course. Bertrand, who had recently moved on to the fourth stage of his treatment, hadn’t complained of joint pain or bad vision for a long time. And more importantly, thanks to my regular infusions of brown mana into his energy structure, his bones were stronger, and thanks to the amber mana it would be a lot harder for anybody to poison my valet or for him to get food poisoning.
“I can assure you, Madame,” I said quietly as I sat down in the armchair opposite her and took her hand in mine. “Maitre Lemesier wasn’t lying to you. He didn’t do anything wrong — it’s just that he’s a regular healer-mage, used to doing as he was instructed to do by his masters back when he was training.”
“But he’s one of the best in Vestonia!” The Duchess objected. “And right now he’s one of the healers taking care of the King. Alongside the grand master of the Scarlet Guild...”
I just shrugged and leaned back into my chair. The Duchess leaned forward. Her expression had suddenly changed. Not even a second before, the woman in front of me had been complaining of her age and all the aches and pains that came with it; now, however, I was looking at a predator, crouched in preparation for an attack.
“How is he?” She asked in a hushed tone of voice. “You were next to him... You even touched him... I know you must have sensed everything...”
She didn’t say any names, of course, but anyone could have guessed she was talking about the King.
“Madame,” I said in an equally quiet tone, “I presume you understand why none of the healer-mages attending His Majesty are being allowed to leave his castle?”
“This conversation will stay here,” she nodded, and immediately asked in a whisper: “Are things really that bad? Or is this another one of Carl’s traps? I told you, I know him very well... Everything he does has a hidden motive, sometimes two or three layers deep. And then there’s that hunchback of his. Cunning as a snake, patient as a spider!”
At the mention of the jester, the Duchess’ fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. I wondered, just then — what did Kiko do to piss her off so much? Although to be honest, it would have been more surprising if he had somehow managed NOT to piss her off.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Madame, but...” I shook my head and let out a heavy sigh.
Of course I wasn’t going to say that the man sitting on the throne was already half dead. Judging by the change in her expression, though, she drew the proper conclusions herself.
An instant later, a spark lit up her eyes. She edged in a little closer to me and grabbed my right hand with both her hands.
“But Max, my boy... Surely YOU could do something? After all, you’re more powerful than all these dried-up old grand masters put together...”
Hm, I thought... She seems strangely zealous about the idea. I wonder why that could be? After all, it didn’t seem at all likely that Jeanne du Bellay was still harboring feelings for Carl. And let’s be honest — did she ever really have feelings for him?
Most likely, she could sense the considerable benefit that she might be able to extract from the situation should her talented nephew end up being the only man in the country who could heal the King of Vestonia.
“My dear aunt... You may not fully understand what you’re asking of me,” I said as I gently withdrew my hand.
I wasn’t lying. I genuinely had no desire to get involved with death magic. My last encounter with it had come in the form of some black bruts whose energy had almost merged with my own aura.
Several days after returning from the King’s hunting “lodge,” I ran an experiment with some of the trophy-size crystals in my basement, and it very nearly ended in disaster.
It scared the living daylights out of all the first-born. When the dust finally settled, the nisse called me a stupid boy and spent the next several days excoriating me for my idiocy.
Basically, the lunari (one of the fairy sisters who asked to join my retinue) helped me contain the aggressive magic.
I should point out that they weren’t actually sisters, and they definitely weren’t fairies, either. They were the descendants of ancient elemental spirits who existed at the very dawn of life on this world. “Fairy” was just a designation they acquired over many centuries. So when I referred to them by that term, it didn’t offend them at all.
Over the course of several weeks, I shared my energy with them on more than one occasion, and then one evening the event they had all been waiting for finally came to pass. They transformed, just like the nisse had.
As far as I could understand, for the first-born, transformation was a sort of breakthrough, or overcoming of a barrier in their magical development that arose because of a shortage of the necessary energy. The same energy that used to be generated in special sources of power that later fell under the Shadow.
There was one other method of achieving a transformation, and that was interaction with an auring. According to legend and old folktales, the first of these beings were born from the same ancient sources of power (or birthsprings, as they were commonly called).
Once their transformations were complete, it turned out that Selina (the lunari) and I had a powerful magical connection. It was even stronger than my connection with the nisse. Itta, however, wasn’t especially surprised by this. What’s more, she seemed to have actually expected something like this to happen. And she was the one who explained to me how I might make use of this strange bonus.
Somehow, the moon fairy was able to intervene in my meditations to help sharpen my concentration. With her help, my energy manipulations were more precise and less energy-consumptive than before. I could run several different operations at the same time. This caused my magical development to speed up considerably.
Despite the fact that I had become an avant not long before, my training fights with Sigurd almost always ended in a victory for me. More and more often, I noticed my bodyguard glancing at me quizzically. Apparently he realized that before long, he wouldn’t be a match for me anymore.
For my part, I was in the grip of genuine euphoria after reaching a new level of development. I imagined that birds probably felt something similar after their first flight.
My reservoir was generating mana more quickly, which significantly reduced the amount of energy I had to borrow from my reserve during battle. My aura was more saturated, too. And most importantly... I made another huge breakthrough when I realized that I would soon be able to create new nodes and channels in my energy system.
True, I still didn’t know how that might turn out. Therefore, in order not to hurt myself, I was still working on preparing for the first experiment in this direction. I knew I would need to strengthen my entire energy system. It goes without saying, of course, that my consumption of bruts increased dramatically, even with the significant improvement in my reservoir’s function. I still had enough bruts in reserve for the time being, but I was well aware that it was high time to go on campaign and restock them.
Actually, it was this feeling of euphoria that made me decide to conduct experiments with the black bruts, which the nisse had hidden away in the deepest recesses of my castle’s basement. I just felt like everything was under control. In the end, the burst of energy was so powerful that it almost devoured me entirely.
Thankfully, at the critical moment when the death magic was about to start dominating my consciousness, the lunari was there to help. Thanks to her help, I managed to focus and regain control of the whole dangerous process. From that moment on, I decided that I would avoid touching a black brut ever again. At least until I figured out my new abilities.
“You really can’t do anything to help the King?” The Duchess looked into my eyes as if pleading with me.
“You just said that the finest masters of the Scarlet Guild are at His Majesty’s side,” I shrugged. “I’m sure those renowned gentlemen will think of something.”
“Max, you realize what will happen if...”
The Duchess trailed off and looked around as if worried that someone might be eavesdropping.
“Don’t worry, my dear aunt,” I said in a calm tone. “Nobody’s listening.”
“Carl still hasn’t declared an heir apparent,” said the Duchess, her tone still just as quiet. “As soon as he dies, de Bauffremont and de Gondy will be at each other’s throats. Prince Heinrich and his supporters won’t be standing idly by, either. And there’s still the army of Konung Sharptooth somewhere up north, which will definitely make an appearance in support of Prince Louis. Chaos will engulf the capital. And you’ll probably be far away when it all happens. As will the King’s legions.”
“If the situation starts developing in that direction, and I’m not in the capital when it happens, promise me you’ll move into my castle until it all blows over,” I said. “I’m leaving a garrison of thirty men here. They’re all veterans who’ve been through more than a few battles. They’re loyal to me, and they’ll defend you and anyone else in this castle. The “Fox Den” is a tough nut to crack. It can’t simply be taken by a frontal assault. There are provisions for a siege of several months. So you’ll be safe until I return. And when I do, my dear aunt, I promise you that anyone who’s threatened any of my loved ones will soon have cause to deeply regret their rashness.”
The Duchess replied with a worried smile and a nod. A faint blush appeared on her cheeks. And a moment later, she said:
“I’m afraid your uncle will probably start making moves as soon as you leave. I suggest returning Valerie to him... That would calm him down for a while.”
“No, Madame,” I shook my head. “Valerie will never be returning to the Count de Gramont.”
“Heinrich won’t just let this go,” warned the Duchess. “He’ll probably submit a petition to the King.”
“Let him submit whatever he likes,” I shrugged. “If he wants to make himself the laughingstock of the capital again, that’s his prerogative. A brother heads off to war, and his sister stays at the castle to run day-to-day affairs in his absence. This has always been the way of things — when men go to war, women take over management of hearth and home. No, Madame... My uncle will do what he’s always done. He’ll hide.”
“Do you have plans for Valerie?”
“I have no doubt that she’s got a brilliant future ahead of her,” I replied. “And she will decide for herself who will share it with her.”
“What if she decides on some bankrupt merchant’s son with a shit-eating grin on his face?” The Duchess snickered. “Or some horrible mercenary? Are you ready to accept a choice like that?”
“If that’s what she wants, I’ll accept it,” I replied nonchalantly. “But I have to say — it doesn’t seem like you know your niece very well. And anyway, I’ll do my best to make sure that nobody like that comes within a hundred yards of the Viscountess. Or her sisters, for that matter.”
This seemed to startle the Duchess, and she frowned.
“You intend to take Patricia and Nadine too?”
“Of course,” I nodded. “I’ll tell you something else, too: I’m going to make Heinrich give back everything that once belonged to my father. And I hope you’ll help me with that. A weakling has no place at the head of our line.”
I was looking right into the Duchess’ eyes as I pronounced that last sentence. And judging by the expression on her face, Jeanne du Bellay was in complete agreement with me.
* * *
Herouxville
Old Capital
The castle of Frederic de Moati, grand master of the Knightly Order of the Gray Rock
The grand master Frederic de Moati sat at the table in his office, looking attentively at his guests. They had arrived after sundown, and without any notice whatsoever.
To say that the grand master was unhappy about their visit would be an understatement, but he knew there would be dire consequences for refusing to see an emissary from the grand master of the Order of the Frozen Spear. So Frederic was forced to put up with the two unannounced guests.
In his mind, he was cursing the northerners for their rashness in sending these men; after all, it wouldn’t be more than a day or two before that loathsome hunchback found out about this meeting. The grand master was already thinking about how he would justify this meeting to the King, who was bound to demand an explanation. As to whether the bow-legged little bastard would tell Carl everything... Well, Frederic had no doubt about that whatsoever.
“Well then… I’m listening,” he announced in a gloomy tone.
Frederic was addressing a small, gaunt little man sitting opposite him, whose face resembled a freshly-made death mask, but his answer came from a young woman seated in the adjacent chair. She introduced herself as Sister Fria.
White hair, gray eyes — she was a true northern beauty. Frederic caught himself subconsciously admiring her.
“Brother Valdar and I have come to Herouxville at the command of the grand master of our order,” she said; her deep bass voice sent goosebumps crawling down Frederic de Moati’s spine. “To be specific — we’re investigating a crime committed against our order.”
“This far south?” The grand master’s eyebrows shot up.
“Indeed,” nodded Sister Fria. “The miscreants launched a cowardly surprise attack on our brothers in Vintervald, but their tracks have led us back here, to Herouxville.”
“Your road has been a long one,” said Frederic. This visit was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. “But what does this have to do with our order? Or do you mean to imply that one of our brothers is involved in this business?”
The grand master frowned.
“Not at all, Your Excellency!” Sister Fria hurriedly objected. “The person responsible for the deaths of several of our brothers is not a member of your order. But we have incontrovertible proof that these people have also done harm to you, albeit indirectly.”
Frederic de Moati was intrigued. He leaned in a little closer; in an icy tone, he said:
“Explain.”
“Of course. But before we continue, we’d like to ask one small favor of you on behalf of the head of our order.”
“You mean to negotiate with me?” There was a palpable note of irritation in the grand master’s voice. He wasn’t used to being addressed this way. Indeed, if it had been someone else in the chair opposite, he probably would have started spitting fire and brimstone at them almost immediately. But he understood that these two weren’t just simple strykers. These were punishers, whose missions were the stuff of horrifying rumor; all things considered, the grand master knew it was best to keep a cool head. Besides that, they were speaking on behalf of the head of their immensely powerful order, someone with whom the Stone Knights had always had cordial, if not exactly warm relations.
Judging by the hint of mockery in Fria’s steely gray eyes, she could see right through the grand master, which only annoyed him more.
“Come now, Your Excellency. We are merely instruments in the hands of our master.”
For a moment, Frederic de Moati just frowned back at her, feeling tense; then, apparently having made up his mind, he said:
“I will listen to whatever you have to say, but I can’t promise that I’ll grant your request.”
“I thank you, Your Excellency,” said Fria. “We know that you’re sending a unit of your knights to Bergonia. We’d like to accompany that unit.”
“In what capacity?” Frederic de Moati frowned.
“As impartial observers from our order,” replied Sister Fria. “A completely normal practice during a war. Besides, if anything should happen while they’re on campaign, five experienced strykers certainly won’t hurt their chances. Wouldn’t you agree, Your Excellency?”
The master thought for a moment. This kind of thing was indeed a perfectly normal practice during wartime. And Carl had never had any conflicts with the Frozen Spears.
“Do you have official writs from the grand master of your order?” Frederic de Moati inquired.
“Of course,” nodded Sister Fria as she took out two scrolls. “Here is the official communication from the head of our order to you and to your King.”
After spending several minutes reading the papers, and being convinced of their authenticity, Frederic de Moati turned to address the northerners once again:
“Well, I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t grant this request. I don’t think the King will have any objections, either. I’ll see to it that your request is approved.”
In his mind, the grand master let out a sigh of relief. With documents like this, these Frozen Spears weren’t just visitors anymore. And their little conversation had just acquired the status of an official visit.
“I thank you, Your Excellency,” said Sister Fria with a smile.
“With that, I presume, we can continue our conversation,” said the grand master. “You said that you had some kind of proof that the criminals you’re looking for have somehow done some harm to us as well...”
“Exactly right,” nodded the gray-eyed northern beauty, watching with a smile as every word she uttered changed the expression on the face of the grand master of the Stone Knights. “I recall that several months ago, you took out a den of werewolves...”