Dragons and Demons, page 23
She trailed off, so Rezkin prompted her to continue. She peered at him through unshed tears. “It was when we were fighting the sea monster and the demon that controlled it on the ship. I had struck my head and thought I did not remember it correctly. Wesson was casting, and as he released his destruction, he laughed. His eyes were full of glee. But it was only moments later that he was huddled on the deck sobbing in grief.”
Entris said, “I have never heard of a daem’ahn existing in this realm in such a way. It is possible that, unlike a possession where the daem’ahn controls the body, Wesson’s humanity and strength of will allows him to maintain control over his destructive tendencies (skeptical).”
“Yes!” said Nanessy, as if grasping for any reason to uphold Wesson’s good name. “Wesson is capable of wielding both destructive and constructive power. Surely that shows that he has been able to overcome his, um, demonic nature.”
“Although it is an interesting study,” said Entris, “the daem’ahn cannot be permitted to remain in this realm (adamant). All daem’ahn must be eradicated.”
“Just as you would eradicate me?” Rezkin said, his voice carrying with it the frigidness he felt inside. Although these Eihelvanan seemed to want to help people, they were quick to judge and even more eager to destroy anything they thought to be a threat. Rezkin did not like that they considered him to be one of those things, nor did he care that they thought so of Wesson. The mage had been a dedicated and loyal follower even though Rezkin had never required an oath of fealty from him.
“Wesson has proven himself time and again to be both capable and trustworthy,” he said in a tone that would brook no argument. “There will be no more talk of ending him from anyone. If and when he should need to be dealt with, I will be the one to do it.”
Entris began, “You may not be capable—”
“I said I will do it,” Rezkin growled. “He is to be left alone, and anything relating to him and demons is to be kept between us. Am I understood?”
Entris stiffened and pulled his horse to a stop blocking Pride’s passage. Pride stomped and gnashed his teeth at the other horse, which shied away to Entris’s frustration. With his mount under control again, Entris said, “You are in no position to be issuing orders.”
“I am the Emperor of the Souelian. It is my duty to issue orders.”
“And it is my duty as Spirétua-lyé to see that no daem’ahn treads in the Realm of Life (determined).”
“Just as you take your duties seriously, so do I mine. Wesson rides beneath my banner. He is my responsibility.”
Entris’s heated gaze might have burned through him had he not met it with the frigid ice of his own. After several tense breaths, Entris said, “Very well, but should you fail, I will not hesitate to exorcise the daem’ahn from this world.”
Chapter 12
As Wesson stepped onto the deck, his wavy, caramel-colored hair was snagged by the wind, tossing the curls into his face. He looked back into the dark interior of the cabin and said, “You may want to grab a shawl if you plan on coming out.”
Celise was full of energy as she pranced up to him and took his hand. Wesson immediately found it necessary to brush his hair from his eyes with the same hand, using the wind as an excuse to extricate himself from the woman who claimed to be his matria. Celise did not seem to take offense as she pulled her bright orange shawl around her bare shoulders. She slid past him and stood beneath the sun, bathing in its light with her face tilted toward the sky. Her loose, orange pants rustled in the wind, and her shawl billowed behind her, exposing the tanned expanse of midriff that was not covered by the feeble wrap of her top. The beads woven into her chestnut locks glimmered gold in the sunlight, and when she turned to smile at him, Wesson was sure she was secretly fae. Nothing less would have the power to grip him like she did.
His cheeks flamed, and he quickly drew his gaze from the young woman. Although she was beautiful, she was not Diyah. The deckhand upon which his gaze landed next was decidedly less intriguing than Celise, and Wesson quickly turned to searching for the striker with whom he needed to speak. He found Kai lounging in a net that was stretched like a hammock to hold his weight.
“Journeyman, so good to see you out in the fresh air. I take it your, ah, friend, there, is feeling better?”
Wesson glanced behind him to see that Celise had followed. She kept her distance, though, as she usually did from the other men on the ship. Wesson could tell that she was hesitant around the larger warriors and seafarers, and for some reason that reticence bothered him. He worried that perhaps something untoward had happened to her in the past.
Turning back to Kai, he said, “Have we skirted the isles yet?”
Kai cleared his throat. “We changed course in the night. Ships were seen on the horizon. We thought it best to avoid them. It seems the southern waters are swarming with Caydean’s men. Apprentice Mage Manding was up most of the night speeding our voyage. We will be disembarking to the east of the isles. Ashaiian ships will be near.”
“East? Then we backtracked.”
“Aye, but it will put us closer to Kaibain. We only have to get through the Fendendril Forest to meet the Lorelis Trade Route in Banton.”
“I am familiar with the area. The locals do not take kindly to anything unusual coming out of the Fendendril.”
“I should think not seeing as how it is haunted.”
Wesson gave the striker a reproachful look, but Kai only grinned.
“It seems that after his death, Duke Ytrevius’s forces in the south were conscripted by the royal army,” said Kai. “They’re occupying the Southern Trade Route from Cerrél to Port Manai. It will be extremely difficult to infiltrate the Mage Academy in Kaibain right now.” Kai held up the portable mage relay. “We just got word that the army is being sent to subdue the west.”
“Caydean is moving against the west? Why?” Wesson’s heart raced with alarm as he thought about his mother and Diyah in Benbrick.
“Well, it seems the west is under rebel occupation; and, apparently, Torrel and Sandea are on the move. They’ve been sending troops down the coast by sea as well as by land. I would say Caydean will want to stop any sort of agreement from forming between the two groups. Perhaps we should forget about the Mage Academy and head to the west. We could dock in Port Gull to resupply. From there, we can sail up the Aen to Maylon. The river is large enough to permit a vessel of this size.”
“I am familiar with the route,” said Wesson.
His gaze sought the placid shifting grey-blue of the sea as he considered all the conditions that had set him on this course toward his home, the home from which he had fled little more than six years ago with a mob on his heels and guilt in his soul. He wanted more than anything to take the striker’s suggestion, but he had a responsibility for the Mage Academy and for Rezkin.
“We shall disembark in the east and make our way to Kaibain. I need to at least try to get the Mage and Battle Mage Academies on our side.”
Kai rubbed his beard and looked at him thoughtfully. “Very well. This is your mission. If you think it has a chance of success …” He paused then shook his head. “From what I have heard, you are our strongest mage, and you are one of the few among us who seems to have Rezkin’s trust. We can ill afford to lose you in a hopeless effort.”
“It is not completely hopeless. I believe I have a real chance of swaying their opinions.”
“If you say so. Will you be taking the little lady?” He nodded toward Celise.
Wesson frowned and glanced back at Celise. She grinned and gave him a small wave. “Ah, she may need to remain on the ship, but it will be difficult to convince her. She does not exactly recognize my authority.”
“You are in charge of this mission. I am only here for moral support.”
Wesson shook his head. “I am merely a journeyman, Striker Kai. No one would listen to me. They have to listen to you.”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “I think you would be surprised by how much influence you possess. You may be a journeyman in name, but you are the emperor’s mage for a reason.”
Wesson nodded and stroked his hand down his plain grey robes devoid of panels, which marked him as a generalist. He knew it was probably wrong of him to continue wearing the drab garb. After all, he was more than a simple generalist, and part of the reason for a mage’s uniform was to warn people of what they were up against. Unfortunately, he knew of no other way to define himself, besides that which he refused.
A small, soft hand gripped his own, and Wesson turned to find Celise beside him. In her heavily accented and broken Ashaiian, she said, “Come, my Wesson. We will eat and be happy in the sun.”
Wesson sighed and followed Celise to an unoccupied space on the upper deck where they sat with their backs pressed against a couple of barrels secured to the ship. Tipping his head back, Wesson’s gaze was drawn to a seagull that had taken up residence on one of the masts. The sails were taut with the power of the wind, and ropes and wood creaked as water lapped against the hull. His attention fell to the horizon where, in the distance, he could see dark clouds releasing their burden over the waves. A bolt of lightning illuminated the shadowed crests, and Wesson inwardly groaned. The storm was moving toward them, albeit slowly. He hoped the storm rained itself out before it reached them.
Celise moved to kneel beside him. She leaned over him as she reached for his hair. Wesson firmly but gently stayed her hands. “What are you doing?”
She held up a thin, red ribbon. “I will braid this into your hair.” She reached for his hair again. “Your hair is not long, but it will grow.”
Wesson grabbed her wrist and held it so that the ribbon was as far from him as his reach would allow. “No, Celise. I told you. I do not recognize your claim.”
Celise extricated her hand and donned a pout. “But you are my Wesson. I leave my home. I come here with you. We will be good together.”
“I told you already. My heart belongs to another.”
“But you say this other has claimed someone, and your women claim only one man. It cannot be you.”
“No, I said she is probably married already. I do not know yet.”
Celise’s teeth grazed her plump lower lip as she anxiously twirled the ribbon around her finger. Wesson could see the moisture in her eyes as her lashes fluttered, and he hoped she would not start crying. He was not sure he could handle her crying. Eventually, she said, “I will wait for you to see that she claims a man, but you are still my Wesson until she challenges me.”
Wesson shook his head. “That is not how it works here. Women do not challenge each other, and they do not have champions. Why do you want me anyway? You are a beautiful woman, Celise. Any of your men would be proud to be your consort, I am sure.”
“I do not want them. You are my consort, and I will keep you.” Her eyes lit up as though she had just thought of something. She gathered her feet under her and quickly stood as she said, “Coledon is not here. I must find a big man to be my champion. Do not worry, my Wesson. I will find us a strong warrior. No one will take you from me.”
Before Wesson could say any more, Celise was gone. He laid back on the deck, and this time he did not stifle his groan. His gaze found the seagull atop the mast, again, only this time it was not alone. The two squawked and yakked at each other, their cacophony echoing the turmoil inside him. Celise was going to end up approaching every man on the ship looking for a champion, and there was no telling what she would agree to in order to keep him. She was a strong woman capable of navigating the intrigues of Leréshi court, and at the same time she was completely oblivious to the way the world worked outside of Lon Lerésh. Here, she did not hold power, and for some reason, he felt obligated to keep her safe.
He rolled to his feet and went to find the young woman who seemed to think she owned him. He was both relieved and frustrated when he found her talking to Kai again. When Kai glanced at him, it was with a mirthful glint in his eye. The striker no doubt found Celise’s mission to be highly entertaining. At least he was reasonably sure Kai would not attempt to take advantage of the woman.
“You will do this for me?” Celise said. Her arms were crossed, and her spine was straight. She looked down at the lounging striker as if she were the queen, herself, looking down on her vassal.
Kai grinned and looked back at Wesson. “What do you think, Journeyman? Should I aid this kind lady in her efforts to save her love?”
Wesson gritted his teeth. “She does not love me. Perhaps she should claim you and force you to comply.”
Celise scowled at him, the first such look he had seen directed his way from her, and Kai’s grin fell.
The striker said, “There will be no more claimings. We are not in Lon Lerésh. Besides, I am already married—at least, I was. I can only assume she still lives. That is beside the point, though.” His taxing grin resurfaced, and he nodded to Celise. “I would be honored to fight as your champion against anyone who thinks to take your consort.”
Celise beamed and launched herself at Kai, sprawling on top of him as she gave him a hug. When she finally righted herself, she did the same to Wesson. “You see this, Wesson? You are mine. The striker knows this. He is a strong warrior.”
Wesson scowled down at the striker who continued grinning as he stretched and placed his hands behind his head. He looked as if he had not a care in the world. Wesson briefly considered setting the man’s pants on fire.
Just then, a shout from the crow’s nest raised the alarm. Kai leapt to his feet, and deckhands began running every which way. Wesson snagged Celise by the arm and pulled her toward the entrance to the cabin. The ship rocked as it turned, and Wesson glanced up to see several ships on the horizon. His stomach soured as he realized the ships appeared to be coming about in pursuit.
Wesson deposited Celise in the small berth they unfortunately shared since she had attempted to stow away. Although she had been caught, Wesson could not find it in him to turn her away once she had started crying.
He said, “Please, stay below deck. You will be safer in here.”
She reached for him, her hands finding purchase on his robe. “You stay. You will be safe here, too.”
Shaking his head, he said, “No, my skills are needed above.”
She looked at him skeptically, and Wesson realized that Celise did not have faith in his abilities as a mage. He figured it was just as well that she had never been present when he had found it necessary to cause the kind of destruction she might fear.
“Trust me. I will find you when this is finished, okay?”
She nodded and clasped her hands together as she backed toward her bunk. This berth, thankfully, had more than one bed.
When Wesson found the captain, he was speaking with Kai and Waylen Nasque, who had been taken under the striker’s wing for his first mission after recently coming of age. Waylen was an excellent swordsman, and what he lacked in body mass, he made up for in speed. At least, that is what the other swordsmen had said. Wesson was not capable of assessing such things since he had never learned to wield mundane weapons. His father had died when he was too young to learn, and since he had come into his power, he had never considered it necessary. Only once had he ever been unable to access his power, and that had been an extreme circumstance.
Wesson turned his attention back to what the captain was saying. There were, apparently, four Ashaiian naval ships on the horizon, but only three had turned to intercept them. The captain hoped that their evasive maneuvers would be enough to outpace the vessels and they could put enough distance between them that the Ashaiians would give up pursuit.
“We are too far for a typical patrol,” said Captain Estadd. “I had not expected them to be so far out.”
Kai shook his head. “It is not your fault, Captain. It seems they are patrolling all the way to Verril. It was only a matter of time before we encountered someone.”
“But we are faster, right?” said Waylen.
Kai did not answer but turned to Wesson instead. “Can you do anything to hide us?”
Wesson’s brow stretched toward the sky. “You want me to hide an entire ship?”
“Can you do it?”
Wesson glanced toward the enemy ships off the starboard side, then looked to port toward the incoming storm. Squeezed between the two threats as they were, things were about to get very uncomfortable. Wesson considered his options then decided on something he was not entirely sure he could do.
“Sail into the squall, Captain. I can hide us in the storm.”
The captain peered into the dark where the line demarcating the sea from the sky had all but disappeared. The waters were already choppy, and the swells in the distance were worse than imposing. He said, “If we sail in, there is no guarantee we will come out in one piece. We may not even make it into the squall before they catch up to us.”
“Do what you can, Captain,” said Wesson, raising his voice above the wind. “I would not like to try to take on three Ashaiian naval ships at all, much less at the same time.”
“No, certainly not,” said the captain.
As they sailed toward the squall, Wesson watched their pursuers. It would not be his first sea battle, but he dreaded a repeat of the last one. This one was closer to Ashai, though, and it was likely the ships each contained more mages than usual. He pondered ways in which he might slow them, but each time he thought of something, he also thought of reasons the efforts might come back to haunt him. The ships were still too far away for direct strikes, and Wesson hoped they did not get any closer.
Stargazer managed to stay ahead of the Ashaiian ships, but the presence of mages was apparent in how quickly the enemy ships closed the distance. Just as the ships were coming within range for vimaral attacks, the first raindrops wet Wesson’s face. He had barely noticed them before he was suddenly inundated by the sky’s angry torrent. He was inclined to go hide in the relatively dry cabin, but he had a job to do.
