Shadow Magic, page 2
Vilos realized his friend had continued talking and that he’d been staring. “I’m sorry, old friend. What did you say?”
“I said has your daughter found any suitors to her liking yet?”
Vilos chuckled. “No, that’s why I’ve invited every eligible prince I could think of to her birthday party next month. Eighteen years, by heaven, where has the time gone?”
The meal finished, Tarik and Vilos went to the lounge to finish their coffee. Soft camelhide chairs welcomed the weary men. Vilos sipped his coffee and sighed. Strong but sweet, just the way he liked it. “What do you think prompted the nomad’s attack?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea, Vilos. We’ve been trading in peace with them for years. Then, like a sand drake, they attack without warning.”
“Whatever the reason, I don’t like it. I have a few friends among the nomads. I’ll contact them when I get home.” Unable to stand it any longer Vilos said, “Tell me about your new wife.”
Tarik laughed. “I wondered how long it would take before you asked. Tara certainly draws the men’s eyes.”
“I didn’t think I was quite so obvious. She looks so much like Ayia when we first met…”
Tarik nodded. “I hadn’t realized it myself, but now that you point it out the resemblance is obvious. I hope seeing her didn’t cause you pain.”
Vilos smiled at his friend’s concern. Not the false worry of a nobleman who might have offended his lord but the genuine concern of an old friend. It made Vilos realize just how few true friends he had. “Don’t worry, seeing her was a surprise, but a pleasant one.”
“You know, Vilos, if you ever thought of remarrying, Tara isn’t really my wife.”
Vilos raised an eyebrow at this. “Oh?”
“She’s the daughter of another old friend, a merchant. His wife wanted to arrange a marriage to a nobleman in the north known to beat his wives. When my friend heard he claimed he’d already promised Tara to me. His wife wasn’t pleased, but since I outranked the other nobleman she agreed. I learned this by messenger three days later. I didn’t really want to marry her.”
Vilos thought of the beautiful young woman and offered his friend an incredulous look.
“Truth. I swear I was quite content, and it seemed strange, after all I have a daughter two years older than Tara. Still I wished the young lady no harm, so I agreed. We haven’t even consummated the marriage. That was two years ago.”
“But the child.”
Tarik smiled. “My granddaughter. We pretend she’s Tara’s when we have guests, just to keep up appearances.”
“Quite a story. Tara is a lucky young woman. Plenty of men would have taken advantage of her situation.”
Tarik nodded. “Another reason her father chose me. So you see, if you wished to remarry, I would give her up. Since the marriage never really began there would be no dishonor. I saw how you looked at her.”
Vilos smiled but shook his head. “I may have looked at her but I didn’t see her, I saw a ghost. I appreciate your offer, but it wouldn’t be fair to Tara. The comparison to Ayia would always be there and it wouldn’t be a fair one to make. Better for all if she stays here.”
“As you wish. Now, speaking of family tell me of yours. Where are Nord and Kent?”
“My brothers? Last I heard Nord had joined a mercenary band fighting in the duchies to the north. That was five years ago. Kent I hear news of almost weekly. His merchant company operates out of Port Haydrien. He’s gained a great deal of wealth and now sits on the merchants’ council.”
“Haydrien, that’s about as far as you can get from the White Palace and still remain in the High Kingdom,” Tarik said.
Vilos sighed, feeling the familiar sadness as they spoke of his brothers. “They both hate me. I fear my family will never be restored.”
“There’s still Shara,” Tarik said.
Just the mention of his daughter brought a smile to Vilos’s face. “Shara’s a good girl.”
Tarik returned his friend’s smile. “Didn’t her alchemy tutor once call her a thrice-damned hell spawn?”
Vilos winced. “She isn’t that bad. He just got angry because she blew up his lab.”
“Twice,” Tarik crowed.
Vilos shot him a pained look. “Twice.”
He hoped he’d find the White Palace still standing when he got back.
Chapter 2
Shara raced through the white marble halls that gave the White Palace its name. She still wore her black silk pajamas and old pink slippers even though it was almost midday. Her long auburn hair streamed behind her as she ran. Her best friend, Sarafin, squealed with delight as she tried to keep up. Soon they would reach her father’s mosaic room. The entire floor was covered in bright, smooth ceramic tile. Her favorite pink slippers had long ago lost the rough bottom that her new ones had. That made them perfect for her favorite game, skating.
She hit the mosaic floor at full speed and slid into a graceful glide. Her arms extended to the side and, balanced on one foot, she coasted three-quarters of the way across the floor before running out of momentum.
She smiled as she held the pose. Shara still remembered the day six years ago when her history tutor had shown her the picture of northmen sliding across the ice balanced on a single steel blade mounted on their boots. There was no question in her mind that she had to try it. Pity ice didn’t form in the desert. Sliding on the mosaic was the best she could manage.
Reality came hurtling back as she heard Sarafin approaching. Her friend hit the tile and tried to imitate Shara’s graceful glide. Unfortunately Sarafin weighed about fifty pounds more than Shara and had the dexterity of a three-legged donkey.
It took only a moment for her to fall on her ample stomach, completely out of control. Shara groaned as she realized Sarafin was headed right toward her. An instant later Shara found herself sprawled across Sarafin’s back and riding her friend like a camel for another ten feet. They finally stopped just short of the rear wall.
The two girls laughed for a moment then Sarafin said, “Heaven’s mercy, I’m going to miss this, Shar.”
Shara sighed and rolled off her friend. Sarafin was almost two years Shara’s junior but she had already gotten engaged. Soon she’d leave the palace where the two of them had grown up like sisters and start a new life with her husband-to-be.
Sarafin’s parents had arranged the marriage to seal a trade agreement. Shara had seen the fat old merchant in court a few times. He wheezed just climbing the steps to the throne room. “You deserve better, Sara.”
Sarafin held up her hand to forestall Shara’s argument. “I’m the youngest daughter of a minor noble family. An arranged marriage was my destiny. Besides, I’m homely as a mule. No prince is going to come sweep me off my feet.”
Shara hopped up. She loved Sarafin like a sister, but had to admit her friend had a point. The two girls couldn’t have looked more different. Shara was tall and slim with shoulder-length auburn hair. Sarafin was round and short with black hair and dark eyes that couldn’t see ten feet in front of her. Roly-poly, her father had called Sarafin. The word seemed apt.
“It’s lunch time, isn’t it, Shar?”
Shara grinned. The next meal was ever on Sarafin’s mind. “I’m the princess, my dear. Lunch is whenever I wish it.”
Sarafin giggled at Shara’s imitation of the noble ladies that inhabited the palace like sand fleas in a beggar’s hovel. “I’d better get dressed first,” Shara said. “Father would have a fit if he knew I spent the whole morning in my night clothes.”
They walked back through the gleaming halls toward Shara’s room. When they arrived she waved aside the stone soldier standing in front of her door. The golem took two steps to the left so she could reach the gold-inlaid door. As soon as she closed it she heard the heavy steps of the golem returning to its post.
Shara stripped off her pajamas and tossed them toward the bed. They stopped in midair about three feet from her target. The clothes flew toward the far wall where they vanished as her invisible servant passed through the wall on its way to the laundry. Shara walked over to her closet and regarded the many beautiful garments hanging there. After a moment’s deliberation she selected a pair of billowy white pants and a sapphire top that revealed her flat midriff. She finished it off with a platinum tiara her father had gotten for her a few years ago.
She spun in a circle. “How do I look?”
Sarafin had sprawled on her huge feather bed. She sat up and smiled. “Beautiful as always, Shar. It’s bad enough the men have to look at you every day without teasing them with a top like that.”
Shara leapt through the air, spun a full flip, and landed on the bed beside Sarafin. “You know Father would never let me dress like this. He’s due home tomorrow so this is my last chance.”
“Don’t forget what happened two years ago.”
Shara lay back and sighed. How could she forget?
Two years ago, a few days after her sixteenth birthday, she had gone for a walk in the garden dressed much as she was now. A handsome young nobleman, about a year her senior, spotted her. Thinking she was out looking for a tryst he’d hurried over, eager to oblige.
Unfortunately for him, he’d gotten a little overeager and grabbed her arm. A stone soldier appeared a moment later—there always seemed to be one of those things nearby. Before she could stop it the golem ripped the young man’s arm off. It took all the skill and magic of the palace healers to reattach it. The story soon spread through the palace and now most men wouldn’t even look at her.
“I remember, Sarafin, don’t worry. I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to try a stunt like that again.”
They left Shara’s room and headed downstairs. A sweeping white marble staircase led to the main hall. The kitchens were situated in the rear of the palace so the hustle and bustle wouldn’t bother the nobles.
At the base of the stairs the two honor guards snapped to attention at the princess’s approach. Shara noticed one of the guards, a young man new to the post, watching her from the corner of his eye. She winked to let him know she’d seen him. He immediately looked away. Shara smiled a sad little smile and turned toward the kitchen before Sarafin decided to go cannibal on her.
Chapter 3
Prince Nord surveyed the two score soldiers assembled before him. Raggedy and still smelling of smoke, most of the men had survived the sacking of Duke Gallow’s keep. The survivors had a grim, hard edge to them. The remaining half dozen looked like boys taken straight from the fields. They held their war axes on their shoulders like they planned to go chop firewood.
Still, all of them cowered as Nord looked down at them. At six foot eight, Nord weighed over three hundred pounds—all of it muscle—without his armor. By far the largest of the three brothers that had vied for the crown of the High Kingdom, Nord still believed he should have won. Now he’d been reduced to a mere mercenary captain.
How the mighty had fallen.
The men assembled before him represented the latest recruits to the White Tigers mercenary band. The White Tigers numbered four thousand strong and many counted them among the most skilled mercenary bands in the Broken Kingdom.
This had not always been the case. When Nord had fled north after the Crown War, the White Tigers had amounted to little more than a miserable band of outlaws numbering perhaps twenty.
Nord encountered them first in the forest near their camp. He’d approached in peace, not wanting to fight an entire camp of armed men. The White Tigers had drawn steel and prepared to attack. He’d been forced to kill three of them before their leader, Dragen, had called them off.
Nord and Dragen spent the rest of the day talking and taking the measure of each other. He took a liking to the bandit leader almost at once and they’d struck a bargain whereby Nord would use the wealth he’d secreted out of the High Kingdom to buy better equipment for the White Tigers and to entice new recruits. In exchange Nord would get the rank of second-in-command.
Six months later the Tigers numbered over a hundred, including a sorcerer of middling power. Nord and Dragen decided the time had come to make their name.
A messenger had gone to the castle of Duke Cassius. Cassius was engaged in a fierce battle with his neighbor, Duke Ballin. Ballin had managed to construct a fort between two rivers. This fort overlooked the only ford for many miles in either direction. Ballin used the fort to halt all merchant travel heading toward Cassius’s land. The White Tigers offered to sack the fort in exchange for whatever plunder they found.
Cassius had agreed with the understanding that if they failed, he wouldn’t acknowledge them. The Tigers had accepted and managed to complete the mission. Well pleased, Cassius had hired them for several other missions. The wealth and fame gained from these efforts brought the White Tigers to prominence.
For eighteen years now Nord had fought with the White Tigers. He’d more than doubled the wealth he escaped with and now controlled half the Broken Kingdom through puppet dukes.
Dragen died in battle four years ago and Nord now ruled alone. In another year or two he’d control all the Broken Kingdom and then he’d turn his sights south to his brothers and the High Kingdom.
Assuming he could turn these plow boys into soldiers.
Prince Kent sat unperturbed as his new business associate ranted about the unfair price Kent had offered him for his pearls. The eastern merchant, he called himself Yin, paced from side to side tossing his hands in the air. Kent’s beautiful office had a spell of silence surrounding it, so Yin’s ranting went no further.
“They’re worth three times what you offered me!” Yin shouted for the fourth time. “Twenty-five gold pieces each is an insult.”
Kent leaned forward and rested his elbows on the large mahogany desk that dominated the room. “You’ll do no better elsewhere. Accept my offer or get out.”
Kent’s blunt ultimatum seemed to jar the merchant. He sat down in one of the small leather chairs in front of the desk. “It’s just that my expenses ran a little higher than I anticipated. Couldn’t you make it a little more?”
Kent smiled. He had his fish hooked now. “I’m not without sympathy, Yin. I’ll make it thirty gold pieces each.”
“I accept,” Yin said. “Thank you, sir.”
Kent rose from his high-backed chair. At just under six feet, Kent wasn’t the most physically impressive figure, certainly not when compared to his brothers, Nord and Vilos. The runt of the litter, they always called him. That had rankled at the time, but he soon learned that his brain could often get him what his lack of size couldn’t.
That was a lesson that served him well over the years.
He patted his belly and swallowed a sigh. The good life had taken its toll.
“My pleasure,” he said. “We merchant men have to stick together.”
“Indeed we do, sir.” Yin bowed to his host.
Kent walked around his desk and escorted Yin out the door that led to his main warehouse. “Just tell the clerk what price we agreed on when you bring the pearls.”
“I will, and thank you again.”
Kent closed the door behind him and began thinking of a number of jewelers he knew that would be glad to offer one hundred gold pieces for each of those pearls. Kent had no sooner sat down than someone knocked on his door.
Kent touched a rune that had been engraved on his desk. Whenever he touched it the silence spell ended until he removed his finger. “Come in.”
His beautiful assistant, Yaway, entered the office. Her flawless features were highlighted by a hint of rouge on her lips and a bit of sparkling crystal at the corners of her eyes. A loose, swirling robe covered her from neck to ankle, yet the thin silk clung just enough to give a hint of the perfection that hid underneath.
Not that her looks were the only reason Kent hired her. Yaway had a mind nearly as keen as his own. On those rare occasions when his business took him out of the city, he trusted her to handle matters in his absence. Given how few people he trusted, that was a rare honor.
“We received a sending from one of your ships, The Happy Mermaid,” she said. “They’ll arrive about a week late due to a storm. They’ve sustained some minor damage, but nothing that threatens the ship’s safety.”
“The Happy Mermaid…” Kent tried in vain to remember what cargo it carried.
“A variety of copper tableware,” Yaway said as if reading his mind.
That’s what he loved about the woman: besides a jaw-dropping figure she always seemed to know just what he needed. “No big deal. Anything else?”
“Your niece’s birthday is approaching. Do you wish to send a gift?”
Kent thought about it. He hadn’t spoken to either of his brothers since the Crown War ended. He didn’t like Vilos, though more because they had little in common than due to any particular offense. Despite several magical conversations with his niece over the past few months, he hadn’t yet decided if visiting the palace again was a good idea.
But perhaps the time had come to reach out to the Crown. “Pick out something nice and extravagant. I trust your judgement.”
“Very good, shall I send it directly to the palace?”
“No,” Kent said. I'll take it myself.
Chapter 4
Vilos smiled as he spotted the four gleaming towers of the White Palace jutting toward the sky. In another hour, Sultan’s Oasis would be visible in all its glory. More than one hundred thousand people called the capital home. Most of the noble families also maintained a home there so they could live in comfort when at court. With his daughter’s birthday fast approaching, the population would soon nearly double as nobles from many lands arrived for a chance to court the princess.
As they got closer to home the speed of their little column increased without them even being aware of it. Vilos glanced back at his fifty men and realized the stone soldiers had fallen behind. He held up his hand signaling the men to slow down so the golems could catch up.
