The Scion Conspiracy, page 14
“Jayce,” she said in a gentle voice, hand touching her husband soothingly on the arm to quiet him as he began to speak up, “I thought we talked about this…”
“You talked!” He said, a bit more harshly than he had intended, “You both talked, but you didn’t hear a word I said. I’m not signing up with a Republic Warship. I’m not taking over the family business. I’ve tried to tell you this before, but neither of you wants to listen to what I have to say.”
His mother recoiled a bit and Jayce felt the pang of guilt churn in his stomach. He started to say something, to try and ease the hurt clear on the woman’s face, but his father cut him off.
“Big man all of a sudden, are ya?” His eyes flashed and Jayce could feel the fury flowing off of him, “You seen that yellow woman’s show last night and got dreams of glory and riches in your head, aye?’
Jayce could feel the rising temperature inside him as he struggled not to scream in frustration. He tried to steady himself, took a ragged breath in through his nostrils. Nadia had put both hands on her husband's arm to try and quiet his rage but the man bore down on his son mercilessly. His father’s voice pierced through his calm like a spear through the skin of a sea beast.
“You know what your problem is, boy? You got no respect! No respect for this family, no respect for the sacrifices we made for you! I clawed my way to this from nothin’, but you, you’ve been given everything, never had to work a day in your life.”
Jayce shut his eyes and clenched his fists. His father had taken a step forward and was now inches away from Jayce’s face. His hot breath filled Jayce’s nostrils. His ears rang with the harsh words. He tried to focus, to breathe like his mother had taught him.
“You know what? You should go to the University, you don’t deserve the Company. You don’t deserve to call yourself an Acosta.”
It was like all the building wind had been let out of his sails all at once. The tension and anger flooded out of him and was replaced with a torrent of confusion and deep, black despair. He blinked and stared into the hard face of his father.
“Father…”
“Elon…” Nadia whispered in a shocked voice.
When the man spoke, his tone of resignation cut through Jayce more sharply than any blade, “Let’s go, Nadia. Leave this magi to his studies.”
Without another word, Elon Acosta sauntered past his son, shouldering him roughly to the side and not giving him so much as a second look. Jayce watched him go. He turned back to his mother, with a sense of building dread as he saw the look of disappointment on her face.
“Mother…”
She held up a hand to silence him, a jeweled ring with the Acosta Company symbol sparkling on her middle finger. When she spoke, it was slow, direct and measured.
“Jayce, my son, I know you’re a gentle soul, you mean no harm in your actions. I know you thirst for knowledge. But you need to take a moment to ponder your actions. I have told you my story many times, but perhaps you have forgotten; that when the High Sorceress of Vess took me on as a child, I thought I was to be a great magi as well. But she was a cruel master. She used me and the other children like slaves, had us do petty magics all day and night for coin to line her pockets. Had I not escaped, had I not been found by your father…my life would have been one of unending misery.”
Jayce sighed, “I know your story, mother…”
“Then you would do well to heed it.” Her eyes were shards of blue ice, stark in her dark face, “These practitioners of the High Art that you are so desperate to join are not what you believe. They are sharks, ever circling, waiting for a hint of blood in the water.”
“Your life is not the map by which the whole world charts its course, mother.” He replied firmly.
She chewed at her bottom lip, staring hard at him, “Look deep into your soul, my child. Is forsaking your family what you truly desire?”
Jayce was quiet for a long time. He turned the words over in his mouth a dozen times, then a dozen times more. He finally met her eyes. The look he gave his mother was equal parts defiance and desperation, “If any of us is discarding their family, it is the man who just walked away from his only son. I want your blessing mother, but I will make my own decisions with or without it.”
Nadia, returned his gaze with a sad look and shook her head. Then she put her hand on Jayce’s shoulder for a brief moment, gave it a slight squeeze and followed her husband down the hall.
The caravan had exited the city's outer wall and was winding its way down the cobblestone road beside the River Rhine towards the ocean. From this distance, it was barely visible, a thin snake of tiny shapes moving slowly across the rust colored landscape between pockets of greenery. Jayce stood leaning on the parapet wall of The Hold, watching it fade into the distance in the late afternoon sun. The pit in his stomach had grown deeper and deeper as the caravan had grown further away. He could feel the swarming storm of self doubt rolling over his thoughts and urging him to return to the familiar comfort of his parents, who were rapidly fading into the distance. Yet he remained rooted to the stone wall like a statue. There was a cool breeze flowing across the mountains and into the valley. Jayce took a deep breath and let it calm his unruly mind.
“Finally gone, huh?”
Jayce opened his eyes and saw Cassius standing a few strides down the wall. The nobleman wore casual robes, yet still had his sword lashed at his side, ready as ever. He strode towards his friend, a casual grin on his face. The bandage had been removed from his left arm, leaving a jagged pink scar bright against his tan skin. Jayce nodded towards it.
“Another souvenir?”
“For the collection.” The Prince rubbed at his arm, “Itches like crazy though.”
“I would imagine.” Jayce shook his head, “It’s a good thing you're tough, my friend. I know very few men who could take the beatings you have and still reach for your sword with a smile.”
Cassius grunted in agreement. They stood there for a long moment, quietly looking out at the horizon. The gentle rise of the mountains caught the afternoon light on their cliffs and rock faces, evoking a richly painted mosaic of reds, oranges and yellows. A few clouds drifted gently towards the west, crawling along on the swells of the summer heat. When Cassius finally spoke, he was gazing out over the landscape with a wistful look, “I’ve always loved the view from up here. Such a beautiful country, don’t you think?”
In truth, Jayce had always found the Horn terribly monotonous and unremarkable. He grinned at his friend, “I supposed, if you like big old rocks and overly self important hills. Then again, I hear you Southlanders are a bit too friendly with your horses, so we might have different standards…”
The Prince swiped a good natured blow at his friend, who ducked out of the way. Jayce turned and pointed back in the opposite direction. The city stretched out across the valley, filling the two concentric walls to the brim. Beyond, towards the east, the wide cobblestone road led away into the mountains.
“Guess I’ll be headed that way tomorrow.” He said, unable to fully banish the Oaren woman and her words from his mind, “No reason to delay now.”
“You sound unhappy about the prospect. Did your parents take the news as poorly as you predicted?”
“Worse. But that’s only half of it. That damned Illuminator, from the party, I can't get her out of my head. I spoke to her about attending the University…”
“And..?”
Jayce shook his head, “She told me I could never be an arcanist, that I was settled, whatever that means. She told me I would only ever be a Stormspeaker…”
A heavy hand on his shoulder brought Jayce’s spiraling ramble to a stop. Cassius was giving him a steady look, dark eyes focused on him, “Jayce, you might be the cleverest man I’ve ever met, and, from what I saw at the fires the other night, you're a damn fine weaver of magic. I don’t know much about the arcane arts, but I know anyone would be a fool to reject you.”
Perhaps it was the dry air up here in the mountains, or it might have been the sun shining into his eyes. It definitely was not the pit in his stomach finally lightening for the first time since his mother had walked away from him this morning. Whatever it was, Jayce found himself rubbing a spot of wet from one eye as he nodded. His voice felt caught up in his throat all of a sudden and all of his usual wit seemed to elude him.
The Prince dropped his hand and graciously gave him a moment, ignoring the emotion that had overcome his friend as he looked back out over the parapet. Jayce took a few deep breaths and pushed everything back down, calming himself. When he turned back to his friend, the grin was back on his face and he was thinking about the future with excitement for the first time since he had gotten the letter from Cassius.
“So that’s my plan. What will you do now, your Lordship?” Jayce indicated the road beyond the wall, “Will you bring the bandits who broke into The Hold to justice?”
Cassius shook his head, a bitter frown biting at his face, “No, I have no command any longer. My father has not lifted his decree, in spite of recent events. So I am still bound here, within the walls of this fortress, until I am made a proper lord.”
Jayce frowned and puffed out his cheeks. The Prince looked miserable, staring listlessly across the city. He leaned heavily on the stone of the parapets, head resting on one upturned hand. Jayce stared down at his hands, pondering them for a long moment. Finally, he mused out loud, “Why do you think anyone would want to free the Witch of the White Woods?”
The Prince shook his head and made an irreverent grunting noise, “Who knows? Seems mad to me.”
“I would suppose,” He began, rubbing the short stubble that had grown at his jaw line and mentally noting his need for a shave, “someone wanted her for her magic…but that’s far too simple an answer. There are plenty of freelance magicians in the world. It would have to be someone who was willing to make an enemy of the Federation and the Northern Kingdoms, at least those that border your Barony. Maybe even the Empire as well, seeing as they implicated the Oaren performer. Unless of course it was the Empire that perpetrated the whole thing.”
Cassius frowned, lines set deep into his brow as he pondered the issue. “That would be troubling…but assuming it's not them, the Republic then? Or one of the Vinatierian nations then? We’ve heard rumors the Schivian Dynasty is unsettled.”
Jayce shook his head. “No, my father would likely have heard of it if it was someone in the Republic, and the nations of Vinatieri have their own sorcerers, outlaws and otherwise. There’s just not enough incentive for one of them to organize a heist of this difficulty to break one witch and her coven out of The Hold.”
He scratched at the battlement, breaking a pebble loose. He flicked it into the street below and held up his fingers. He began counting down on them as he listed the points, “This was someone independent. Whoever it is, they are well connected, well informed, well financed…”
“It could be a group.” The Prince ventured.
“Most likely,” Jayce agreed as he rubbed his hands together, “very few individuals in the whole of Arieha would have the knowledge and ability to pull something like this off alone. I think the real question is, what could a group with that type of power, connection and influence already possibly want with the Witch?”
Cassius shrugged, looking more puzzled than ever. Jayce sighed and leaned back on the parapet. He glanced over the wall and was surprised at what he saw. Julius was there, properly primped hair and outfit impeccable as ever. He was standing just below them in the courtyard. He called out, waving one hand above his head. Jayce looked over and Cassius shrugged at him, the two made their way down the stairs and met up with the youngest of the Roth children.
“Hail Julius, what tears you out from your wine and books on this fine evening?” Cassius said haughtily.
Julius gave him a smirk and motioned towards The Hold, “There’s no peace for anyone in there. Father is still raging like a bear with a thorn in his paw. Valeria is trying to help him come up with a measured course of action, but I don’t need to tell you how hard it is to deal with our father’s temper…”
A grim look overtook the elder Prince once again as he glowered at his brother. Julius only continued smirking, defiant in the face of his brother’s menace. He moved on smoothly, not missing a step, “In fact, that is the reason I’m here. Valeria requested I find you for some sort of family meeting.”
Cassius made a face, “Our father wants me present for an important meeting? Aren’t you more suited to that sort of thing?”
Once again, the younger brother sidestepped his sibling's jeers, “Valeria wants you. I hardly think our father is giving you much thought at the present moment.”
The frown deepened in the elder Prince’s face and Jayce had to stifle a snort of laughter at his friend's pain. Cassius shot a look towards him, then heaved out a heavy sigh. He motioned across the yard, “I suppose we better get on with it then.”
Julius cleared his throat, “You should come too, Jayce.”
“Me?” Jayce blinked, “But why?”
“Valeria asked for your presence. I don’t know why. Perhaps she wants a witness in case father murders us all before the day is done.”
Night had fallen on The Hold by the time the three men had made their way through the winding halls and stairs of the fortress. The witchlights had sparked to life and their amber glow was beginning to wash out over the stone, giving the walls and floors a hue like fire dancing in the dark. As the three reached the Library, they could hear the Baron’s voice before they even opened the heavy wooden doors.
“You are playing games of chance with both our realms, Valeria!” The Baron’s voice boomed as they entered.
The Library was a large, long hall much like the Banquet Room, with vaulted ceilings and long windows along one side. However, unlike the rest of the fortress, the windows here were stained glass which colored the moonlight streaming in through depictions of various nature scenes. There were rows of lightly stained shelving which lined every wall, climbing like trellises up towards the tall ceiling. The rows of shelves also ran down the center of the room, all carved with the designs of delicate vines and flowers, an intricate wonder of craftsmanship. They held books of every size and color imaginable, filling the room with the smell of old paper and leather. Jayce silently gaped at the room as they crossed the threshold, thinking to himself that it was like stepping into a totally different world from the rest of The Hold.
In front of a giant hearth which held position in the center of the room, a sitting area waited invitingly with large easy chairs and long couches before it. Valeria sat in a reclined position, seemingly at ease as her husband loomed behind her chair like a great shadow. The Baron stood before the hearth, frame illuminated by the glow of the crackling fire behind him. The dark look on his face was similar to the one he had worn in the Great Hall during his inquisition of the party guests.
“…you cannot assume,” the Baron continued the conversation that had been taking place before they entered, face contorted into a mask of anger, “that you know what these people are going to do! You don’t know anything about that Oaren woman!”
Valeria held his gaze with the same rigorous intensity, “I assume nothing, father. I know enough to know what she is going to do.”
Cassius, Jayce and Julius made their way over to the sitting area. Julius threw himself down into a chair unceremoniously, while Cassius stood opposite his father. Jayce placed himself awkwardly off to the side, still not sure what he was doing here. The Baron seemed to barely notice him as his dark eyes fixed on his eldest son.
“Finally managed to get yourself here?” He rumbled, hardly bothering to contain the bite in his voice.
“I just asked Julius to bring them.” Valeria cut in, motioning vaguely. She indicated one of the open seats, “You really should all sit down. This isn’t a duel.”
“Not yet…” Cassius growled as he stared at his father. The older man returned the look without flinching. Valeria rolled her eyes and spoke as if she was a mother scolding misbehaving children, “I swear, you two are worse than my own bickering boys. Did you both forget we have greater matters to deal with than your petty squabbling?”
The two men held their stare for a moment longer, before the Baron gave a grunt and looked to his daughter, “How could I forget my own daughter undercutting me like a sapper felling a castle wall?”
“What in the world are you two about?” Julius asked hurriedly, before his sister had time to respond, waving a hand around at the assembled crowd, “What’s the big secret that you have brought us all here to reveal, Valeria?”
The eldest Roth sibling cast an appraising glance around the room, “I know who is to blame for the heist.”
A moment of silence passed as all the eyes in the room came to rest on the Valeria. She let the words hang in the air, a pregnant pause before finally letting the rest of her family in on the secret, “I believe it was a group of mercenaries called the Burning Blades.”
Jayce blinked. The memory of the man in the fine suit stood out in his mind. He blurted out, “I met a man from the Blades in Redwater!”
Every face turned to look at him. He felt as though the room had suddenly grown much hotter in an instant, “He…tried to recruit me. He gave me a coin…”
Valeria’s eyes widened and she shot her husband a glance. The rest of the Roth family seemed to chew this information over in their private thoughts. Julius’s voice cut through the awkward silence, “Val, how could you possibly know that?”
“We've been looking into the Blades, as well as other mercenary groups, for months now.” Damien spoke up, broad face lighting up as he motioned down to his wife unnecessarily.
