The Consuls of the Vicariate (35 page)

After toiling with Manny for an hour, Laedron returned to the front parlor of the shop, wearing the fine coat and pants the tailor had fitted for him. He had never worn crimson, but the dark red vest accented the black coat and the white silk shirt.

“You clean up nicely, Laedron Telpist.” Marac stood. “I suppose I should go next.”

“While I’m fitting him, change back into your other clothes carefully,” Manny said, pointing at Laedron. “I’ll need to alter the clothes, and my marks were made with great precision.”

By the time Laedron finished changing clothes, Marac had been fitted and Brice was already in the back with Manny. “That was quick.”

“You like it?” Marac asked.

Looking at the light blue vest and the tan overcoat, Laedron smiled. “Very nice.”

“He had this one already done. Said a nobleman requested it, then cancelled the order at the last minute.” Marac stretched out his arms. “It’s a little snug, but it fits well.”

“That it does,” Laedron said, then turned when the curtain flew open to reveal Brice.

Brice shook his head and paced through the parlor. “I don’t like it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Manny chased after him, still trying to take a measurement of the sleeve. “Will you hold still?”

“I’ve made a pair of pants or two in my time,” Brice replied, kicking his legs. “These will never fit.”

“Trust me, would you? If you would just hold on, I will show you.”

Brice sighed, freezing in place. Manny manipulated the pants around the waist, then tugged at the back around the knee. “Any better?”

“Yes, but how did—”

“Secrets of the trade. I can’t give everything away, can I?” Manny pinned the pants. “Now, get changed so I might get started on her dress.”

Brice disappeared behind the curtain, and Manny put his hands on his hips. “What colors do you prefer, miss?”

“Violet and pink, if you’re able. I’ve always favored those,” Valyrie said.

Manny glanced at the ceiling and tapped his chin with a finger. “It could take some time, but we’ll find a way. The rest of you have a little wait on your hands.”

“We’ll remain here,” Laedron replied. “She sat peacefully through our fittings, so we shall wait through hers.”

“If you wish, but I’d at least recommend sending someone across to the tea house. Get me a pitcher all my own.” Manny handed Brice a silver piece as he came out from behind the changing curtain. “Dresses can take much longer to get perfect.”

Laedron nodded and looked at Brice. “Do you mind?”

“No, I could go for something to drink about now.”

Valyrie followed Manny to the back, and Laedron and Marac sat on the tufted bench which ran along the front of the shop. Returning shortly with a pitcher of tea and some mugs, Brice took a seat with them.

* * *

Normally, Laedron would have become uncomfortable and drained from waiting so long, but Jurgen’s spell apparently held strong because Laedron felt fresh and eager regardless of how much time passed. Marac had fallen asleep, and Brice, having plenty of open bench on his side, had lain down and stretched out.

Manny came out and slid the curtain to the side, revealing Valyrie wearing a deep purple dress with soft pink trim. Speechless, Laedron leaned forward, taking in her beauty. Though she lacked a crown atop her head, he likened her appearance to that of a princess. The dress fit perfectly, accentuating every curve and the lines of her body.

She did a quick twirl. “What do you think?”

“Amazing,” Brice said.

Marac roused from his slumber and stared at her with wide eyes. “Beautiful.”

Laedron stood and took her hands in his. “I think it’s wonderful. Breathtaking.”

She simpered, apparently embarrassed by their reactions. “Thank you.”

“I’m surprised it fit so well. I’d planned to give that one to my daughter as a gift, but I have plenty of time to make another like it.” Manny tugged at the sides of the dress. “You’re very close to her size, close enough not to require any sweeping alterations, at any rate.”

“You’ve certainly earned your keep,” Laedron said, giving Manny a grin. “I can see that your shop lives up to its name.”

“Thank you.” Manny turned to Valyrie and gestured to the back room. “Lay it across the table when you’ve changed, and I’ll finish everything up by nightfall.”

“We’ll send someone around to pick them up after dark, then.”

Once Valyrie returned, Laedron led the way into the street. “Have we anything else to do?”

Marac shook his head. “A good meal tonight and plenty of rest for tomorrow, I’d say. Beyond that, I can think of nothing.”

Laedron smiled even though he knew that the next morning would come after another sleepless night.
It could be worse
.
Combined with an inability to sleep, I could be fatigued all the time. At the very least, I feel wonderful, despite the fact that I feel unnatural.

Arriving at the Shimmering Dawn, Laedron glimpsed a full table and said, “Looks as if the quality of the food has increased with the quality of the lodgings.”

Along with the others, Valyrie gave him a nod and said, “I’ll be in my room. Much to do in preparation for tomorrow.”

“Agreed,” Brice said. “I’ll see you two a little later.”

“Where are you going now?” Laedron asked.

Brice tugged on his hair. “I saw a barber on the way back, and my hair’s getting long enough to irritate me. I’ll return shortly.”

Left alone with Marac, Laedron grinned. “Well, I suppose it’s just us again.”

“Just like old times,” Marac replied.

“Do you think things will ever get back to normal?”

“To normal? Sure,” Marac said, opening the door to his room. “The same? Not in a hundred years. I hope this war woke the church up to what can happen if they’re careless.”

“So long as Jurgen’s there, I have faith that they’ll do well.” Laedron closed the door once he was in Marac’s quarters.

“You believe in him, eh?”

“Of all the priests I’ve met, though there haven’t been many, I think Jurgen’s the best of the breed. Kind, well-meaning, and wise.”

“The other vicars, weren’t they well-intentioned?”

“Not really, not in the same way. They meant well only for their own country, their own prosperity. Jurgen’s view is more centered on helping everyone and living in peace.”

“If that’s the case, I agree with him. I could live the rest of my days without seeing another battlefield.” Marac took off his belt and leaned the sword in the corner. “I hope I won’t need that for quite some time to come. In fact, if I never had to wield that weapon in anger again, I could die a happy man.”

“You mean the fight at the palace?”

“That too, but the battle to the north was far more vicious, far larger in scale. I don’t regret joining the Shimmering Dawn now, no matter how much I’ve mourned Mikal.”

“Did you see anyone we knew?”

“Only Fenric. The others’ faces blended to a blur. Too many to remember each one.” Marac shook his head. “So many of them died while I watched. It was horrible.”

“There’s little that I can say to make it any easier to bear.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Lae. We’ve stopped it before it could claim anyone else.”

“I never thanked you for what you did for me, for bringing me back.”

“I had to.” Marac folded his arms and sat on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t bear it, Lae. I had to do something. I couldn’t sit there and watch you die.”

“What are you saying?”

Marac cleared his throat. “I threatened Jurgen. I told him we wouldn’t help anymore unless he brought you back. Now, you’re… I don’t even know what to call it, and Jurgen is filled with regret.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Marac.” Laedron sat beside him. “Though the act itself is questionable, I would have no hesitation in saving any of you the same way.”

“And go against the Creator? The Fates?”

“If the Creator would look down upon me for saving you, then the Creator is someone in whom I would not want to believe. The Creator is life and mercy. I can’t believe that a god symbolic of all of those things would be angered with someone trying to prevent the destruction of life.”

“Yes, but we’re not gods. Life remains in the hands of the divine, not us.”

“Does it?”

Marac gave him a confused look, and Laedron added, “If we possess the tools and ability to stop it, does it still remain in the hands of the divine? Or are we to disregard the things we know so as not to irritate deities who cannot keep secrets?”

“Cannot keep secrets? What do you mean?”

“The source of magic.” Laedron stood and began pacing. “Magic was taught to the Uxidin by the Creator. Then, when Midlanders came to these shores, the Uxidin shared that knowledge with the early settlers. If the Creator didn’t want us to know, She should never have given us the gift of spells.”

“So, returning the dead to life and making immortals is a wonderful thing? I suppose you could cure the entire world of death before you’re done.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Everything must be done in moderation, for things taken to excess throw off the balance.”

“I don’t know if I can agree with you, Lae. Who gets to decide who lives and who dies, then?”

“No one, Marac. We don’t decide the Fates, but we can change what we are empowered to change. Given the chance, would you not take the opportunity to live forever?”

“What sort of question is that? No, I wouldn’t choose that, and I’m sorry if that’s what Jurgen’s spell has done to you.”

“You look forward to growing old? To dying?”

“It’s the way of things. If the Creator made us, we are destined to pass away, one way or another. Using your reasoning, the Creator would have made us all immortal if that was the original intent.”

“But we’ve been given a way around it by Her hand—magic.”

“Please, Lae, forget this line of thinking.” Marac stood and grabbed Laedron’s shoulder. “I want no part of it.”

Laedron, seeing the fright in Marac’s eyes, gave him a grin. “Very well, friend. I’ll leave it alone.”

“Now,” Marac said, with a relieved sigh. “Why don’t we see if we can find some supplies for our trip? The gold alone should be plenty to get what we need.”

Laedron nodded. “Lead the way.”

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Honor and Glory