The Child Prince (The Artifactor) (33 page)

Bellomi came in to Sevana’s research room, asking a question before he fully stepped inside. “Sevana, this other Artifactor that’s due to come, when is he…ah…hello.”

A man in his late twenties looked up from the chair opposite of Sevana’s and gave a nod of greeting. He had a lanky body, a sort of plain face, with eyes that looked half asleep. In fact, his posture in the chair made it look as if he were ready for a nap any second. His black, wiry hair and dark skin made him look rather like a Sa Kaon, actually. Only that people had skin so dark as to be almost black. “Hello,” he greeted in a quiet, deep tone. “Are you Bel?”

Hmm. He didn’t sound Sa Kaon, though. Bellomi gave a half bow of greeting. “I am, sir. Sarsen Vashti, by chance?”

He gave a smile that made his eyes disappear. “That’s me.”

“Bel, where’s your father?”

“He stepped out,” Bellomi answered with a glance at Sevana. “He said he’s meeting Axelrad at Milby and bringing him up.”

“Ah, then I guess our planning session will have to wait a while longer.”

“Probably best,” Sarsen agreed in a slow, sleepy drawl. “If this man is the retired guard captain you mentioned before? Yes, then it’s best to wait for him anywho. The man knows more than us about palace security leastways.”

Just where was that slow-paced accent from? Bellomi had never heard the like of it before.

Sarsen gave him a more thorough look. “You don’t seem like an eleven year old anymore to me. You
were
that age when first cursed, weren’tcha?”

“Uh, yes, sir.” Not that he’d looked that age even then. “How old do I look now?” he asked, not just curious. Maybe Sarsen would give him a more honest opinion.

“I’d say about fifteen or sixteen.” Sarsen considered him again from head to toe, then nodded in support of his own opinion. “Yup, about that. That the result of that fancy bed of yours, Sev?”

“It certainly is.” She glanced in the general direction of the bed, even though a solid rock wall blocked her view. “A fine invention, if I do say so myself. Now if I can just figure out who to market it to….”

Sarsen grinned at her in a flash of blinding white. “What, not enough cursed princes around to make it worth your while? ‘magine that.”

She wrinkled her nose at him and gave him a dirty look. “Chuffer.”

He laughed off the insult before heaving himself to his feet. “But these are what I’m curious about.” Sarsen walked around Bellomi, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him from turning, and lifted one of the swords free. With an expert turn of the wrist, he flipped the blade around and then lifted it closer to his face to study it more closely. Bellomi watched him without saying a word.

“These your work, Sev?” Sarsen finally asked without looking away from the sword. “They’re nice, but too small for the boy.”

Sevana cast him a quick, amused glance. “Not my fault. He grew on me.”

Sliding the blade back home, Sarsen gave Bellomi’s shoulder a friendly pat. “We’ll talk after this,” he promised in a low tone.

~ ~ ~

Sevana and Sarsen spent a few more minutes catching up with each other, but when his father still hadn’t returned, Sevana chose to go and make them an early lunch before they sat down for a strategy session.

“In that case, why don’t we go look at my collection now?” Sarsen invited.

Perking up at the idea of getting new swords, Bellomi nodded immediately in agreement. “Might as well.”

“Come on, then.” Sarsen heaved himself out of the chair and led the way to his room.

Bellomi knew that Big had created a spare bedroom for Sarsen’s arrival, but apparently the man had visited before, because Big made a
much
larger bedroom than usual. In fact, half of the room had been turned into an armory. Or at least, it looked that way. One whole wall contained swords, pikes, spears, daggers, and various armor leaning against it.

He took two steps inside the room and stopped dead, his eyes lingering over the blades. All of them were top quality, all of them with an Artifactor’s seal on them, runes and inscriptions engraved in the metal.

“Come in,” Sarsen encouraged.

Bellomi waved a hand toward the wall. “Are all of these your work, Sarsen?”

“Certainly are. One or two my master had a hand in, though.” Hand on one hip, he looked Bellomi over from head to toe and back again with his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “You don’t have much size to you.”

He’d grown considerably from his apparent eight-year-old self, but he didn’t have the looks of an adult yet. Going through puberty in a month’s time, with all of the ups and downs of that age, including everything from wild outbursts of hormones to his voice cracking at inconvenient times had been horrible. But he’d thankfully gotten through the worst of it and now stood at nearly five and a half feet, muscles wiry but strong after all of the training and hunting lessons he’d had. He still had a lot of growing and maturing to do, but he at least looked
capable
of handling a sword. Quirking an eyebrow at him, Bellomi drawled, “Give me another four months on that bed, and that will change.”

Humming in a noncommittal agreement, Sarsen kept weighing him with his eyes. “Was it your choice or Sev’s that you’d be a dual wielder?”

“Sevana’s. She said it was good mental training as well as just a smart idea to not depend on one sword.”

For some reason, Sarsen gave a small, fleeting smile at that. “We’re still debating on that. But for you, I think it’s a smart choice. Shields work better with larger, more bulky men. But with you, you’re light and agile. It’s better for you to stay on the offense.” Nodding at the wisdom of his own decision, Sarsen turned for the wall. “Alright, I’ve got a few sets here. Some of them are training swords, some aren’t. Which do you prefer?”

“I’ve only been training for a few months,” Bellomi answered honestly. “I don’t think I should carry anything but training swords for the next two years at least.”

“Good point. In that case, you’ve got your choice between three different sets.” Sarsen went to the wall and started pulling them off before handing them over to Bellomi. “Now, these should have a certain weight to them. Not too light, not too heavy, but a comfortable heft in your hands.”

Could the man be any more vague? Still, Bellomi thought he understood what Sarsen was trying to say. He reached out and took the first set from Sarsen’s hands. These were of a different style than the curved swords on his back. They were perfectly straight, the length of a short sword, with a short hilt to match. Unlike the sensible black and steel color of his own swords, these were more elaborately worked in greens and muted gold.

But he knew almost instantly that they were wrong. For one thing, it took considerable concentration and strength on his part just to hold them. Fighting with them would be more hindrance than help. So despite the fact that he liked the look of them, he shook his head and handed them back. “Too heavy.”

Sarsen gave him a nod, taking the swords, and sheathing them before putting them back on the sword rack. For a moment, did a flash of approval pass over the man’s face? Had those swords been a test?

“Then try these.” Sarsen handed another set over.

Still a little suspicious, Bellomi accepted them, gripping them easily in his hands. This pair slightly curved at the base of the blade, but the hilt and the majority of the blade remained straight, broadening toward the hilt in a dark shade of steel grey. Aside from the inscription on the blade itself and an elaborate engraving in the guard, it had no decoration whatsoever. Leather cord wrapped around the hilt aided gripping. But more importantly than its look, felt good. Frowning thoughtfully, Bellomi took several steps backwards before trying a guard stance with them. Yes. It felt right. In a blur of motion, he swung through several stances, letting the swords move around his head and waist before stopping abruptly, both of them out and ready to slash at an enemy.

Laughing, Bellomi gave the swords another swing in his hands and admitted, “These feel good.”

“They’re a mite long yet, but if you’re really going to grow a few more inches, then they’ll fit you soon enough.” Sarsen’s eyes crinkled up in a muted smile. “You did good to pick these. They’re some of my best work.”

Bellomi relaxed from the stance to give him an openly suspicious stare. “So those swords before
were
a test.”

Sarsen just smiled, not saying a confirmation or denial, and turned to retrieve the sheaths. “Now, if you’re sure, I’ll let you have those. We’ll give your old pair back to Sev.”

Only fair, as Bel never deserved to have them in the first place. But that begged the question. “Sarsen, you know I can’t pay you for these.”

Pointing a finger at himself, and with a mischievous quirk to his mouth, he said, “If I get an eternal Artifactor’s license too, we’ll call it even.”

He almost choked. “What
is
it with Artifactors and paperwork? Surely it isn’t that much hassle to renew your license!”

“Are you kidding?” Sarsen slumped in on himself. “The amount of political maneuvering and bribes it takes to get the license again is depressing, really. Not to mention hard on the purse.”

Bribes? Surely the man was joking…no, judging by that look on his face, he wasn’t. Bellomi made a mental note to himself to check up on that later.

From the hallway, Sevana paused long enough in the doorway to warn, “Don’t chop up the furniture!” before she walked past.

Bellomi shot her a glare, even though she had already disappeared out of sight.

“Ignore her,” Sarsen advised. “I can fix the furniture.”

Seriously? In that case…Bellomi hefted the swords and looked at the rocking chair nearby. “Then, you don’t mind if I….”

“Hmm? No, go ahead. See how sharp they are.”

Not quite able to suppress an evil smile, Bellomi stepped closer to the chair and let the swords in his hands fly. They sliced easily through the wood, barely jarring his hands. Whistling low, he stepped back. “Wow, they
are
sharp.”

Sarsen beamed. “Aren’t they?”

From the direction of the front door, a very familiar voice drifted. Bellomi stopped in mid-motion and cocked his head, listening hard. “Hana’s here.”

“Hana?” Sarsen repeated. “Ah, wait, the librarian’s daughter.”

“She’s actually a librarian herself,” Bellomi corrected absently, sheathing both swords. Now why would Hana be here? He could count on one hand the number of her visits up here. After all, Big lay well out of her way. No one in the village came up here unless they needed to see Sevana. Normally he met her down in the village for their dates.

“Trouble?” Sarsen guessed from the expression on Bel’s face.

“Maybe,” he admitted, already turning for the door. “Hana doesn’t come up here without a very good reason.”

“Probably should check, then. But give those ol’ swords over and take the new ones.” Sarsen caught him by one shoulder and started wrangling off the swords on his back.

Bel shrugged out of the cross-shoulder belts and handed them over before slipping on the new ones. Then he had to delay another moment to tighten the belts, as they were slipping off him of him otherwise.

“Alright, good,” Sarsen approved. “Go. I’ll return these to Sev.”

With a nod of thanks, Bellomi turned for the door and headed for the front at a half-jog. “Big, is there trouble?”

No
, the mountain sighed in denial.

A little reassured, he still didn’t slacken his pace until he rounded the last corner and came into view of the door. Hana and Sevana had their heads together, conferring over a thick report. Bellomi, from this sideways angle, could just make out enough of the heading that he could see what it was. A list of national treasures? What would Sevana need that for—oh. Right. To pay the dragon with.

“—oh and Morgan told me to tell you that he’s getting more information before heading back,” Hana was saying. “He said he’s curious about something.”

“Then I’ll expect him sometime next week.” Sevana shook her head as she took the book and tucked it under one arm. “His curiosity trips always take several days, for some reason. Did you happen to see my other guest in town?”

“I did.” Hana paused as she caught sight of Bellomi but she didn’t pause to say hello. “He and an older gentleman stopped by the library for a map or something.”

“Then they’ll likely be here soon.” Nodding in satisfaction, Sevana turned for her workroom. “I’ll settle up my tab next time in town.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I’m going to borrow Bellomi for a while,” Hana casually requested.

Sevana looked up with an absentminded expression, her mind clearly already on her work. “Hmm? Oh, go ahead.”

Bellomi watched Hana out of the corner of his eye, and for the first time since he’d met her, he felt a little nervous. That smile on her face camouflaged something else, some other emotion that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She had an ulterior motive for dragging him out of Sevana’s hearing. He just didn’t know what.

Hana’s smile widened. “Thank you.” She grasped his hand with an iron grip and towed him out of the mountain, leaving absolutely
no
room for escape.

Whatever she had on her mind had to be important to make her act this way, right? And she’d helped him a great deal in the past. He owed it to her to at least listen. So he didn’t fight her and followed quietly out.

Hana didn’t slow down her pace once they were outside, but led him down the winding stone path for several feet before abruptly diving off into the woods, obviously looking for a very secluded place.

He cleared his throat and offered, “There’s a small clearing up ahead and a little to the left.”

She darted a look over her shoulder at him, expression unreadable, but veered left as he had suggested. They passed further into the cool shade of the forest for several moments without a word passing between them. When they reached the clearing, Hana led him to the center, where the sun shone in a mellow way, before she finally let go of his hand. She seemed to take a deep breath before saying, “I have something to talk to you about.”