Armed & Magical

Chapter 15

I woke up. I was shivering and my teeth were chattering. My water was ice-cold.

The pounding was someone kicking in my door. Then the kicking stopped and I felt a massive surge of power.

Dammit. I jumped out of the tub and ran to get a dagger. Then I faced the door, braced and ready for whatever was coming through it. I shivered and realized I was standing in a puddle of water, dripping wet, and I was still naked. I swore again and scurried back for my towel.

I was reaching for it when most of the door simply disintegrated.

Mychael all but fell into the room, his hands glowing white-hot with an unreleased spell. Instead of whatever he expected to find, he saw a soaking wet, naked seeker holding a dagger and a towel.

I clutched the towel in front me. “What the hell?”

I didn’t know who was more stunned, him or me. But I knew who was more embarrassed.

Mychael’s face went through several shades of pink in search of a blush. “You were shouting… The door was locked and you didn’t answer—”

“So you blew away my door?” I felt laughter bubbling up, probably a prelude to hysteria.

Mychael’s blush turned into a paladin’s indignation. “Yes, I blew away your door!”

“I was in the tub—” I managed through chattering teeth.

“I can see that.” His voice had a rough edge—and his sea blue eyes were looking at where my towel wasn’t.

I clenched my dagger between my teeth while I wrapped the towel around myself, restoring some semblance of decency. It wasn’t a particularly big towel, but it covered most of what needed to be covered.

“I fell asleep in the tub,” I said. “Sarad Nukpana was in my dream, sitting right there.” I pointed to the chair near the tub. “Your kicking chased him off.” I shivered with cold, and tried to smile. “Thanks. Good timing.”

There was a commotion in the hall. Vegard burst into the room, his ax drawn.

“Sir, we heard… Whoa!” He saw me and stopped dead in his tracks. He looked from me to Mychael, then at the door—or what was left of it. “I’ll come back later.”

“It was a misunderstanding, Vegard,” Mychael told him. “Wait for us at the end of the hall. In the meantime, see that no one comes in.”

“I’ll take care of it, sir.” And he was gone.

“Bring a new door,” I called after him. I looked at Mychael. “What do you mean, wait for us?”

In response, he pulled the blanket off my bed and crossed the room to me in three strides. He held the blanket between us, and kept his eyes on mine.

“Drop the towel,” he said, his voice low.

I gaped up at him. “Excuse me?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll need it to dry off. I promise I won’t look.”

I snorted. “You’ve already seen everything.”

“Yes, I have.” He didn’t blush again, but the tips of his ears were pink—and his blue eyes had darkened.

He averted those eyes and resolutely kept them that way while I dried off. When I finished, he carefully wrapped the blanket around me, his expression serious.

“You need to get dressed.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not.”

Great. First I got to be Sarad Nukpana’s tub toy; now Mychael had news so bad even he admitted I wouldn’t like hearing it.

“The Seat of Twelve have requested to see you and Piaras. Immediately.”

I hadn’t been in this part of the citadel before. It was less military, more formal. Imposingly formal. We had a dozen armed Guardians as an escort. Vegard and Riston were among them. They didn’t look happy with where we were going. Maybe it was just me, but going somewhere inside the citadel with that many Guardians didn’t bode well. Mychael’s grim expression confirmed it.

“Do you know what kind of questions they’ll ask?” Piaras asked Mychael.

Piaras’s voice was steady, but I knew the kid had to be shaking like a leaf inside. He had absolutely no business being here. The only fear he should be dealing with today was recital stage fright.

“No, I don’t,” Mychael said. “But if any of their questions are for you, I’ll be responding to them. You won’t have to say a word.”

“Who called the meeting?” I asked, though I had a sneaking suspicion who was responsible.

“Justinius’s secretary delivered the Twelve’s summons.”

“Is that how it’s normally done?” I asked.

“No. Usually Justinius comes to see me himself.”

I smelled a setup. “Carnades will be there.” I didn’t ask it as a question.

“He will.”

“Who’s that?” Piaras asked.

“Carnades Silvanus is the senior mage on the Seat of Twelve,” Mychael told him.

“I thought the archmagus was the senior mage.”

“He is,” I told Piaras. “Carnades is one step down.” And that fact probably galled him every day of his life.

It could just be a question-and-answer session, but with Carnades Silvanus there, he’d probably find some way to turn it into a witch hunt. I knew Carnades had it in for me, but what I didn’t understand—and didn’t like one bit—was why the Twelve had asked to see Piaras. When I was getting dressed, I added enough discreet steel to make me feel comfortable. Mychael had seen me adding the last dagger and didn’t say a word. That told me a lot about what we were walking into.

“Am I in trouble for what I did the other day?” Piaras asked quietly.

“I’m in charge of the Guardians,” Mychael told him. “If you were in trouble for putting my men to sleep, you’d be in trouble with me. It was sabotage. You’re not in trouble.”

“Then why am I here?”

“I don’t know,” Mychael said honestly. “But you’re both guests of the archmagus and under his protection. And at this moment, you’re in my citadel and under my protection.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “No one will touch either one of you.”

The old man was only going to be able to play that guest card for so long. I knew it. Mychael had to know it. Piaras didn’t need to.

Our destination was behind a pair of massive bronze doors with an only slightly less massive pair of black-robed mages standing guard. The welcoming committee had Carnades’s name written all over it.

Mychael stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Raine, when we get inside, let me answer all of the questions.”

“What, you don’t trust my diplomatic skills?”

“You don’t have any.”

“What if they ask me a direct question?”

“Just let me handle it.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep.

The mages opened the doors and stepped aside for us to enter.

This wasn’t a room for the Seat of Twelve to meet—it was a star chamber for passing judgment. The Twelve were seated on a raised dais in chairs that looked more like thrones than anything. There were a few humans; most were elves. They were highborns just like Carnades. Great. The big chair in the middle, which I assumed belonged to Justinius Valerian, was conspicuously vacant. Carnades Silvanus was standing in front of it.

Oh yeah, this was a setup.

I also knew where this was going. Piaras didn’t need to be anywhere near this room. Carnades wanted Piaras here for a reason, and I knew I wasn’t going to like it.

There were observation balconies on either side of the room. Both were occupied. Now it looked less like a setup, and more like a trap. I kept my face expressionless. I wouldn’t give anyone in the room the satisfaction.

In the balcony to the left were four black-garbed goblins. They looked like Khrynsani wannabes—they had the desire to be evil, but not the athletic ability to get through the boot camp. Bookish looking plus the desire to make the lives of others as miserable as possible. Had to be the Khrynsani lawyers.

In the other balcony were two elves. I recognized both of them. Giles Keril, the elven ambassador to Mid; and Taltek Balmorlan from elven intelligence.

I swore silently.

Mychael stepped forward. “I received a summons from the archmagus.” His voice was perfectly controlled. “Where is he?”

“The summons was in the name of the Seat of Twelve,” Carnades corrected him.

“Where is the archmagus?”

“He is unable to join us.”

“An inquest cannot take place without the full Seat of Twelve—that includes the archmagus.”

“This isn’t an inquest, Paladin Eiliesor. My colleagues and I merely want to ask a few questions. We are unanimous in that request.”

Mychael’s face betrayed no emotion as he glanced at the balcony with the two elves. “And your guests?”

“Have a vested interest in the answers.”

Vegard was standing by my right side, and bent to whisper in my ear. “Unanimous means the boss can’t stop them from asking.”

“We have received requests from our honored elven and goblin guests,” Carnades said. “Most of these requests concern Mistress Benares. We acknowledge that she is also a guest with us and under the protection of the archmagus. But as a courtesy to our other guests, we have asked you all here to answer their questions and hear their petitions in an open meeting—where we can all hear the answers.”

“We will hear our guests’ questions and petitions,” Mychael said formally.

“Like we have a choice,” Vegard muttered under his breath.

Carnades sat in his own chair, not the old man’s. I have to say I was surprised.

“The legal representatives of the royal House of Mal’Salin and the Brotherhood of the Khrynsani have filed a request with Ambassador Keril that Mistress Benares be turned over to them for extradition.”

“The archmagus and I are aware of their request,” Mychael replied coolly.

“Their request has now turned into a demand,” Carnades said. “They claim that Mistress Benares is an agent for elven intelligence.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Do a little contract work for the agency and it comes back to bite you in the ass,” I muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. The human lady on the Twelve chuckled behind her hand. There was one potential ally.

“Raine, I will respond for you.” Mychael’s voice was terse, and inside my head.

“Maybe later.”

I stepped forward. “In the past, I have used my seeking skills to find kidnapped elven agents and government officials,” I said, out loud. “The last time I checked that kind of thing would earn you a medal, not extradition.”

“Our Khrynsani guests do not share your perspective,” Carnades said.

“I’m sure they don’t.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the goblin lawyers stand. “Magus Silvanus, if I may?”

Carnades stiffly inclined his head. “Of course.”

“Our presence here is to reclaim a treasured object that was illegally taken from the goblin people. The fear of His Majesty, King Sathrik Mal’Salin, is for the safety and very life of his trusted royal counselor, Grand Shaman Sarad Nukpana. We have signed affidavits from the Khrynsani temple guards who were with Grand Shaman Nukpana the night he was absorbed by the Saghred. Their testimonies confirm that Mistress Raine Benares did knowingly trick our king’s loyal counselor into touching the activated Saghred, resulting in his imprisonment within the stone. The archmagus and the paladin have refused numerous requests to return the Saghred to its legal and rightful owners—the goblin people.”

Mychael stepped forward. “The legality of that claim has been denied repeatedly by the Conclave. The first such claim was made by your government nearly nine hundred years ago. It was denied then, and I am very doubtful that judgment will change now. As I’m sure you are aware, the Conclave of Sorcerers was founded to control and prevent the abuse of magic. Keeping the Saghred in a controlled— and neutral—location is the only way to do that.” He paused meaningfully. “I’m sure you are also aware that neither goblin nor elven laws apply in matters of the Conclave.”

The Khrynsani lawyer slowly sat down, never taking his black eyes from Mychael. Once seated, he spoke in hurried and hushed tones with his colleagues.

Carnades looked to the two elves. “Inquisitor Taltek Balmorlan has petitioned the archmagus repeatedly for permission to question Mistress Benares on behalf of the elven government. His requests have also been denied.”

Inquisitor? Oh hell.

I looked up at Taltek Balmorlan and bared my teeth in a smile. “And just what would you like to ask me?”

Unlike the goblin, Balmorlan remained seated. “Our questions concern elven government security and center on your continued association with a member of the Mal’Salin family. This same person was recently seen in the company of a high-ranking Khrynsani shaman.” He courteously inclined his head to the goblin lawyers in the opposite balcony. “Begging your pardon.”

Tam. I swore silently. “Who would that be?” I asked out loud. Act ignorant, not guilty.

“Primaru Tamnais Nathrach.”

“Tamnais Nathrach used to be married to a Mal’Salin duchess. Past tense.” I kept my voice even, and my tone reasonable. “I fail to see how an acquaintance with a goblin can be of concern to the elven government. I’m sure you count goblins among your acquaintances, as do most in this room.”

“Normally such an acquaintance would not be cause for alarm,” Balmorlan replied smoothly. “Concern, yes; but not alarm. It is your relationship with Primaru Nathrach combined with your bond to the Saghred. Your actions in the square the other day indicate that your abilities now match or exceed those of every mage on this island. And according to testimony of Magus Silvanus, your soul has been inside the Saghred itself on two occasions.”

So much for what Carnades gleaned with his questing spell.

“On the first occasion, you spoke with Eamaliel Anguis, who is also your father and a known Conclave traitor.”

Mychael’s hand on my arm stopped the response I really wanted to give Balmorlan.

“Paladin Anguis was one of the finest of our order.” Mychael’s voice was calm, but cold. “He kept the Saghred safe for nearly nine hundred years.”

Carnades spoke. “His previously honorable service record to the Conclave does not alter the fact that he stole a Conclave artifact.”

“To keep it out of the hands of four mages on the Seat of Twelve who wanted to abuse that power,” Mychael responded.

“Mistress Benares’s second time inside the Saghred was to meet with Grand Shaman Sarad Nukpana.” Carnades’s voice was quiet. “He has referred to her as a partner and a bond servant of the Saghred. As you can understand, Paladin Eiliesor, this is of grave concern to the Twelve.”

Balmorlan nudged Giles Keril. The elven ambassador to Mid stood and licked his lips nervously. “Raine Benares is a member of the most notorious criminal family in the seven kingdoms, and has been in an intimate relationship with Tamnais Nathrach, formerly the chief shaman for the House of Mal’Salin.” He sounded like he had actually memorized this. I wondered how long it had taken him. “Now she is the bond servant of the Saghred. In the opinion of the elven government, she needs to be in strict custody and control. If the Conclave Guardians are unable—or unwilling—to provide it, the elven government will.”

So there it was. Carnades thought I needed to be locked up and he’d teamed with the agency to get it done.

Mychael spoke. “There has been no indication that Mistress Benares has been affected in any way by her contact with the Saghred. Unless any ill effects are proven to Guardian satisfaction, we will not take her into custody, but will continue to offer her our protection.”

“I have spent my academic career studying the Saghred,” Carnades countered. “You and the archmagus may not be fully aware of the effects contact with the Saghred has on mental stability. They are seldom apparent to inexperienced observers. Mistress Benares’s soul has been contaminated by dark forces.” His arctic gaze came to rest on Piaras. “Dark forces that have seduced an innocent into doing her will.” He said it almost too softly to be heard.

I felt sick. “No.”

“Master Piaras Rivalin’s sleepsong put nearly a hundred Guardians to sleep.” Carnades’s eyes were on mine. “And he put them to sleep while you were in the same room with the Saghred. I find it difficult to believe that is a coincidence, Mistress Benares. I think it is a conspiracy to steal the Saghred—just like your father did.”

I was not believing this.

“Master Rivalin is being corrupted by your influence, and he is far too powerful a spellsinger to remain where you can use him again. For the boy’s own safety we recommend that he be confined to—”

“My care and protection,” boomed a voice from the doorway. It was the commanding voice of a born orator, and of a really pissed-off old man. “Master Rivalin is a minor and a student of this college.” Justinius Valerian’s bright blue eyes landed on Carnades like a block of granite. “He came to Mid under Guardian protection and he will remain there until such time as any charge against him is proven in a formal—and open—court of law, not a clandestine gathering of rumor and innuendo.”

The archmagus turned to Mychael. “Is everything all right here?”

“It will be.”

“Glad to hear it. Mychael, you and yours, Master Rivalin, and Miss Benares are dismissed. I need to have a few words alone with some of my esteemed colleagues.”