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Authors: April Leonie Lindevald

The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare (16 page)

BOOK: The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare
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The deep, organ-toned voice rolled, “You know that I try not to tell you how to think, or what to do, little one, but tell me why you deny her?”

Jorelial raised her eyebrows, a bit surprised. “Well, I have nothing against this Mark fellow. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, and I believe he really cares for her. But she is so young. I’m not sure she truly knows her own heart. And the future is so uncertain now. We don’t know where we’ll be in a year, or five. We could be at war, or, heaven forbid, we could lose control of the kingdom. They could be parted, or destitute, or worse. I just don’t want her heart broken, and I can protect her better if I can keep her here with me. Surely it isn’t too much to ask them to wait and see if the relationship will weather the coming storm. A girl like her will have so many opportunities in the future – gods willing there
is
a future for all of us.”

“And how would
you
have responded to someone who sought to part us from one another ten years ago? I seem to recall those who claimed that it was not appropriate for a fine young lady of marriageable age to be spending all her free time with a savage beast, hmmm?”

“Well, we never listened to those old biddies, dearest. We have always been together, and we always will be. No one could force us apart. What? Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that; it’s entirely different. You have been my companion since I was born, and we weren’t facing such chaos in the world back then.”

“Would the world situation have mattered to you then, or anything but what your heart told you? Jorelial Rey… (whenever he whispered her whole name intimately like that, Jorelial’s bones nearly melted), wise or foolish, right or wrong, the heart has its own compass that guides us to the source of its fulfillment. Thought may see obstacles, and differences, but the heart’s compass points true north, and will not be swayed by reason or argument. Your sister may be young, but you know she is constant when her desire fixes on something. You have seen this over and over; you have laughed at it, and cursed over it. You might call her stubborn. Or you might say she follows where her heart’s guidance leads. Is that a thing to be despised or envied? Who can tell?”

“Are you saying I should let her marry the bard? Put aside any misgivings and my better judgment?”

“I am saying she is likely to pursue her heart’s desire, with or without your consent, and if you wish to keep her in your life, you would best not try to restrain her, or put more obstacles in her path. What she longs for is for you to rejoice with her in her newfound happiness.”

“You think she would defy me? I can’t imagine such a thing. But it certainly is not my intention to force her hand, or to push her away. I am miserable without Delphine. Look at me now. I couldn’t bear our being estranged for long. I’m only trying to be a good guardian to her, trying to think what our father might have done. I can’t help feeling responsible.”

“Dearest, on this plane, you cannot stop the hands of time. She is growing up and finding her own path. You can no longer keep her in innocence, or protect her from experience. You can only love her, and be her refuge if she is ever knocked down.”

“That is what you did for me, isn’t it, Tash?”

“It is what I try to do every day.”

“Was it hard, to let go, I mean? To let me fall on my face sometimes?” The fire flickered and almost went out, under a gusty dragon sigh.

“Yes…and no. You are headstrong and curious, little one, and often flirt with danger. But it is
your
journey, and you must make your own way. While I breathe, I will be beside you on that journey, but I trust you, and know you will always find the way to what is right.”

“You are wise, Tashroth, so much wiser than I, and I am a little ashamed at what I have done. I only want Delphine to be happy, and maybe I have not trusted her enough. I do think she is a remarkable soul, and perhaps there is a thing or two I could learn from her. I will think this through again, and I will put things right with her as soon as we return.”

“Whatever you say, little one,” the dragon agreed, wryly. Jorelial cocked her head.

“As if you aren’t the slightest bit aware of how persuasive you are, you big green goon…”

“I? Why, I was under the impression we were merely conversing on a problem. As I said, I would never presume to tell you what to do…”

“Oh, no, never!” Rel laughed, feeling lighter already. Then, more seriously, “Tash, as long as I have breath, you know I will be beside you on the journey as well. You know that nothing and nobody will ever take me away from you. You are my heart, my wisdom, and my strength.”

There was a long beat of silence, as if the dragon needed to frame his next sentence most carefully, “Jorelial Rey, someday a man may come into your life who will be a fit partner for you. A helpmate, a lover, a friend, a father for your children…”

“I do not care about any of those things. I already have all I need.”

“Listen to me. You think you do now, but there are experiences you need to have in this lifetime, and you must open to them or a part of you dies.”

“Tash, there was a time I wanted those things, but my life is very full now – more than I even want it to be – and I doubt there is anyone out there who would be willing or able to link his life to my crazy existence in that way. And there is no one out there who could ever take your place. That is certain.”

“Dearest, it is the same for me, but I am not suggesting anyone will come along and make you choose between us. I
am
saying that a great heart has room for many loves, and you must allow yourself to look for the one who can love you so generously and deeply, that he loves all you are, and all you bring with you. You will know him easily, because he will never make you choose.”

“Sounds a bit like a fantasy lover to me,” she yawned, her eyes growing heavy, “but if you say so, I will try to allow the possibility…someday. Tash, what about you? Are you lonely for a mate of your own kind?”

Another thoughtful pause, in which Jorelial might have dozed off, but she thought she heard his response clearly, a moment later.

“I am content, my dear. If something more is to be, I, too, am open to whatever gifts destiny has in store for me. Rest assured, you will never be displaced from my dragon’s heart, Jorelial Rey.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back. The fire was flickering low, but Tashroth’s chest was warm. They would have to fly back at dawn, back to responsibilities and demands. But this time was precious and sacred. Night noises filled the air, evidence of the ongoing drama of survival taking place in the shadows around them. But Jorelial Rey was not worried about danger, teeth or claws, sting or venomous tongue. She slept soundly, secure in the knowledge that there were indeed some advantages to being loved by a dragon.

Anyone crossing the courtyard would not have noticed the trio of figures at the corner, shrouded in cloaks and loitering behind the columns. Not that there would be anyone crossing the courtyard at this hour of the night. Dark clouds scudded across a gibbous moon, and somewhere far off, a wolf sent up his plaintive, lonely howl. The small, wiry man with the pockmarked face pulled his cloak closer, despite the pleasant warmth of the midnight air.

“E’s overdue! I ain’t waitin’ any longer. Someone’s bound to see us out ‘ere and start askin’ questions.”

“Keep your shirt on, Brubaker. Not a soul about. He’ll be here,” replied a rather lumpy man with unruly curls.

The third figure, tall and sour-looking, hissed at them, “Won’t be a picnic for any of us if you two don’t quit yer squawkin’. Don’t you know these walls are like a canyon? You’ll be heard clear across the yard. Shut yer traps.”

The curly-headed man held up a hand, “There! That shadow just moved. See, there? It’s coming towards us. That’s Gargan alright. I’d know him anywhere – big man.”

“Hush,” said the wiry figure, “wait until yer sure.”

“I tell you, I know him.”

“Quiet. Whoever it is has heard us now. You’d better hope it’s him, alright.”

The hulking form was indeed upon them, emerging without a sound from the shadows and mist, nearly invisible in its dark cloak. A deep voice addressed the odd trio.

“It’s a good thing that everyone in Theriole’s asleep now, or the whole of Eneri Clare’d know what it is we’re about. What are you nimwits up to, making such a racket?”

“Told you.”

“Ah, ye did no such thing…”

“Quiet!” Gargan commanded, and the others slunk back like wild dogs acknowledging their pack leader.

“Brubaker, look alive.” Gargan continued, and tossed a grapefruit-sized sack, which the wiry man caught with a quick, dull jingle. “It’s all there. Euligian gold coins, just as you requested. You won’t have any trouble passing them off in the market.” The wiry man nodded and tucked the purse under his cloak, a half-smile tugging at his thin lips.

Next, Gargan pulled out a rolled piece of parchment, sealed with a wax insignia. He held it out to the curly-haired man. “Land,” he stated simply, “two hundred acres, woods and good upper pastureland. A small mine or two. A sturdy house and a couple of outbuildings. Agreed?”

The stout man reached, but hesitated, “Mine? Recorded and deeded? No questions or problems?”

Gargan handed him the scroll and sniffed, “Everything official. What do you take him for?”

“But how? Where?”

“The previous owner had…an unfortunate accident.”

The curly-haired man twitched, but hastened to fold his new treasure safely under his cloak. “Lord Drogue is most generous,” he muttered, hanging his head.

The sour-faced figure stepped forward boldly, “And my reward?” he probed. Gargan reached under his cloak one more time, and pulled out some sort of metal medallion on a long, colorful loop of ribbon.

“Congratulations,
Squire
Colrick. Your new title comes with a fairly decent manor house, and the governance of a small, but prosperous fiefdom, subject to His Lordship, of course.”

The new Squire inclined his head toward Gargan. “Of course,” he replied, pocketing the proof of his title, and bowing extravagantly, “Please convey my deep gratitude to His Lordship.”

Gargan spoke almost on top of the man’s sentence, “Alright, then, is everyone satisfied, just as we agreed?” There were assurances all around, and then Brubaker chimed in once more.

“Lord Drogue honors us with ‘is most liberal gifts – more than I could ever say for that twit as sat last on Clare’s throne – but what
exactly
will ‘e be wantin’ from us in return? What will ‘e expect us to
do
at the council meetin’?” The others shook their heads and murmured exclamations of agreement.

Gargan smiled, “Oh, quite simple, gents. He just wants you to support his run for regent is all. Talk him up to your friends and families, put his name forward for nomination, vote for him when the time comes, of course. Show some excitement if he should get up to speak. And maybe a bit of noise for anybody that’s fool enough to oppose him, see? Not so much of a task, really, for so generous a bribe, eh? Oh, and he’ll expect you all to follow his lead, should he choose any other course there at the meeting, and support him with action if need be…”

The curly-haired man’s brow furrowed, “Well, that’s going a bit far, now, isn’t it? I agreed to put his name up for regent, but I never said as I would give up my good reputation and follow the man into whatever hell he chooses…” The others laughed – all except Gargan, who grabbed the man’s shirt and yanked him close.

“You’ve taken the land, sir. You have your deed. Lord Drogue owns you now. I would consider very careful-like how you reward my lord’s generosity. Because, I will tell you plain, he does not like to be disappointed. Are we clear?”

The stout man’s eyes were wide, and he wheezed a bit as he nodded vigorously in reply. Gargan released him, and the man’s hand flew up to his throat protectively.

“Good. Very good. Do him proud, gentlemen. Pleasure doing business with you. Now I am going to tippy-toe back the way I came. Count ten – assuming that isn’t too high a number for any of you – and then back to your camps in each other’s company like you’ve been out to enjoy an ale with friends. Understood?” He was answered with a chorus of ‘ayes’ and a great deal of nodding. And then he was gone, a shadow among shadows once more, leaving his associates open-mouthed, but speechless, where they stood.

BOOK: The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare
5.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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