Silverglen: A Young Adult Epic Fantasy Novel Page 4

  Lady Dell entered first, wearing her usual white and yellow silks, tailed by a young boy acolyte in similar garments. Her stiff expression transformed into one of adoration at the site of the table.

  "Oh, Gerald, would you look at this table! This was the gift I was telling you about. A splendid honor to Yathe," she said reverently, ignoring the steward as she dragged the acolyte by the hand to the table. The acolyte smiled with equal adoration, crimson tinging his cheeks.

  Lord Histion, a strapping man whose clothing clinked and tinked with pearls, starfish, and coral pieces from the east ocean, scowled at Lady Dell as he came in behind her. “Let’s not confuse Lord Arundel’s solar with a sanctuary, Lady Dell.”

  Lady Dell lifted her nose at him. “They might be seen as the same thing, Lord Histion,” she retorted, emphasizing his name with a hiss.

  “It’s far too early to be arguing already,” called out Lady Ashlin as she entered behind them. She wore a jutting masculine jaw and a simple blue gown with bodice pulled so tight it flattened her chest. “Let’s try to be civil, shall we?”

  Lord Histion turned his scowl on Lady Ashlin, a snide comment ready on his puckered lips. Before he could speak, Lord Wincel bumped into him.

  “Oh!” Lord Wincel exclaimed in a frail voice. “Do pardon, do pardon.” Lord Wincel's stooped back and sagging face did little to shorten his height, which was extended further by a ridiculous hat made of rabbit fur and long tufts of feathers. His garments were of velvet and fur, all soft and supple and white, belonging to ermine and rabbit. The lord had no exceptional qualities, and ruled over Kingsbury, a city not known for anything in particular.

  Lord Jeriel stalked around the them, looking hard and quiet, his thick hands hanging heavy beside him. He was stockier than the others and had a generally dusty appearance, having come from Masonshire, where the primary business was masonry. A dog stalked in beside him, a scraggly, dusty female with a bristly snout.

  Ember wedged herself against the table pedestal.

  Last arrived Lord Thurstun, an elephant of a man wearing sumptuous purple and orange robes, nearly in the Ekesian fashion except that no Ekesian in their right mind would wear so many or such long sashes. The sashes, dyed bright orange or yellow or blue, were all the rage in Ekesia, where Lord Thurstun liked to vacation when his presence wasn't required in Pemberville. Ember knew him better than the others, as his lack of interest in the Academy was well-known. And his fat appetite much spoken of. The lord liked to eat and drink, a fact that was apparent in the rolls that the robes couldn't hide, his beady eyes and wet, red lips. A sheen of sweat glimmered on his forehead and upper lip. In Pemberville, his home was famous for its gaudiness and abundance of Insulating spells that gave it an Ekesian-like heat.

  They sat at the table in a dizzying swirl of aromas, rustling cloth, and heavy breathing. Lord Thurstun took several moments sitting, as he rocked his weight back and forth indecisively between two chairs, preventing the others from occupying either one.

  "Where is Lady Rina?" he asked, not sitting down until the others already had.

  "She is likely on her way," the steward said as he served drinks.

  Tea for Lord Wincel and Lady Ashlin, coffee for Lord Histion and Lady Dell, chocolate for the acolyte who hung back, sumbac for Lord Thurstun, and nothing for Lord Jeriel or his dog.

  "I hope Lord Arundel won't be too long," Lord Wincel muttered to no one in particular. His rabbit-fur feet tapped the floor, exposing a strip of thin, pale leg.

  "What's the rush? Do you have a wife to get back to?" Lord Thurstun asked, chuckling.

  "While we are here, there are other things I must do—"

  "Women, you mean," Lord Thurstun pointed out. "Is it true you have interests in Devondra Thackeray?"

  Someone gasped, but before anyone could speak, the solar door opened again.

  "Lady Rina," Lord Thurstun boomed. His cushioned iron chair scraped the floor as he stood. "I have saved a seat for you. Would you like some refreshment? I will serve you myself."

  "No need," said Lady Rina. She walked gracefully into the room with sandaled feet, the copper and silver bangles tinkling along her arms and ankles. She was a slender young woman with a taste for both Ekesian and Zarian cultures. Her dark hair coiled on top of her head in the Zarian way, and her colorful robes and sashes were adorned with strips of fur, teeth, and bones. She came from the city of Edlen, which bordered Ekesia and welcomed any immigrant who had a talent for art. "My hands are perfectly capable."

  "Yes, of course," said Lord Thurstun. He sighed loudly as he sank back into his chair.

  The solar door banged open.

  "My Lords and Ladies of the Council!"

  Lord Arundel Thackeray's voice startled Ember into squeaking. The dog pointed her floppy ears toward the table.

  "Welcome to Silverglen. Please forgive me for not being here when you all arrived," Arundel said. "A matter at the smelter required my attention."

  "Any casualties this time?" Lord Thurstun inquired, his massive form blocking most of Arundel.

  Arundel wore his riding boots still, which meant he most likely told the truth about being at the smelter. He walked with purpose to the table. He is in a good mood now. He wouldn't drink, Ember knew, but he would talk instead. As he settled into his seat, a metallic scent underlain with horse and leather blended with the other scents under the table. Arundel nearly always smelled of the iron he often worked with, and it was a colder, sharper smell than that of blood.

  "Three," Arundel replied, as though remarking about how many apples were stored in the cellar. "A furnace collapsed."

  "Unfortunate," Lord Thurstun murmured.

  "Yathe's mercy," gasped Lady Dell, while the others muttered equally remorseful phrases.

  Lord Arundel cleared his throat. "Their families will be more than adequately remunerated. Shall we begin?"

  Ember doubted coins would make up for the loss of a family member, but she knew that the family would stay in the mines or smelter where they worked, for the coin and for fear of punishment should they leave.

  Trying not to be too distracted by this and smells, Ember memorized every word of what the Council said. The meeting began with the usual tedious discussions of money, land acquisitions, trading agreements, laws, and research findings from the Academy.

  "Lady Ashlin," Arundel said. "You purchased two hundred swords from me last month. I hope you are pleased with them."

  "They have proven to be of excellent quality, Lord Arundel. I may be purchasing two hundred more. I've made a decision to form a new garrison of women—"

  Lord Histion's sea-squelkin shoes jerked in surprise.

  "Women?" he sputtered. "You're allowing them to fight? Are you mad?"

  "I've consulted with my husband on the matter. If I am mad then so is he."

  Lady Ashlin's husband was a renowned trainer of the Lachian garrisons. He personally oversaw the testing of the Escort, who were only hired for the Council members and their families.

  "But... This is outrageous! How can a woman fight a man? She has neither strength nor skill in fighting—"

  "That is why we teach them," said Lady Ashlin, impatience tightening her voice. "We decided it would be best to train them separately from the men, as they have differing needs. You might do well to remember that the city of Wicksburgh belongs to me, Histion."

  "Yes, and my city of Lyn needs garrisons to man its ships," replied Lord Histion. "Do you expect me to hire women for this task?"

  "I would hire women," Lady Rina offered in a low voice. Her legs were crossed, and her orange and green skirts parted to reveal a slender leg. A sandaled foot bobbed up and down, dangerously close to Lord Thurstun's purple sashes.

  The pungent smell of sweat doubled.

  "Perhaps more would be convinced to hire women once their skills are tested for us," Lord Arundel suggested.

  "It will be a year or more before they are ready," said Lady Ashlin. "When the time comes, I will bring them to th
e Council. Lord Wincel, I've brought the three men you requested to add to your Escort."

  "Yes, very good," Lord Wincel tittered. He tapped his rabbit-fur toes against the floor.

  Ember was beginning to get cramped in her stone nook. The dog had refused to lose interest in her, and stuck her head under Lord Jeriel's chair, wet nose twitching. Lord Jeriel didn't seem to mind. He had hardly said a word during the meeting, hadn't moved his dusty leather shoes even an inch, but only fiddled with a small stone token, round and worn from years of fiddling.

  "Lady Rina," said Lord Thurstun. "Any news of Ekesia? Zari?"

  "I have heard that King Richaro of Ekesia has raised taxes again. A dozen or more immigrants arrived in Edlen only last week." Her sandaled foot bobbed in smooth rhythm.

  "That king is a fool," said Lord Histion. "Is he looking to raise a rebellion?"

  "He is young, and in need of better council," Lord Thurstun put in.

  Lady Dell spoke up. "Perhaps if we invited him to visit Lach, and impress upon him the values of Yathe—"

  "The Ekesians don't care for Yathe," Lady Rina stated.

  "Simplicity, order, beauty, and perfection," Lady Dell continued. "Perhaps he should focus on those instead of sowing disorder by being cruel to the poor."

  "Not everyone is able to be as generous as you to those beneath us," Lord Histion said with a hint of scorn.

  Lady Dell sniffed. "I don't believe it's a matter of ability. Only willingness."

  "I think it would be unwise to upset the new king of Ekesia," said Arundel. "We have certain alliances with him that must be maintained for the safety of Lach."

  "You mean the agreements about shapeshifters," said Lord Thurstun.

  The dog had crept closer. She crawled on her elbows under Lord Jeriel's chair, her nose dripping as it waggled. Ember couldn't stop her mouse-body from trembling. Her only escape route, the slit in the floor, was close enough to the dog that she could snap Ember up if she dove for escape. She can't see me, Ember told herself. If I hold still enough she will soon forget I'm even—

  The dog saw her. She could tell by the way her eyes grew huge and her muscles bunched. Instinct overtook her. Ember dove into Lord Thurstun's thick garments just as the dog pounced. The dog barreled into Lady Rina, pushing the woman into Lord Thurstun, who moved barely an inch from the impact.

  "Get that damned bitch out of here!" Lord Thurstun bellowed, tugging his sashes out from under the dog.

  Ember burrowed into a particularly thick sash hanging close to Lord Thurstun's knee. She glimpsed Lady Rina's amused expression as Lord Thurstun patted her all over to make sure she was unharmed.

  A sharp command came from Lord Jeriel. The dog, ears pressed back in submission, sulked out from under the table, mouse forgotten.

  Ember sprang back to her nook. Lord Thurstun had re-arranged himself so that he sat closer to Lady Rina. Her bobbing sandaled foot now stroked his lower leg.

  "I do wish to keep the agreements with Ekesia," Lord Arundel went on as if there hadn't been a disturbance. "And I'd like send out another patrol."

  The room erupted with voices.

  "Ekesia?"

  "Another patrol?"

  "Lord Arundel, do you really think it's necessary—"

  "There have been rumors," Lord Arundel cut in. "Of another faction in Ekesia. I can't be confident that this King Richaro will be as loyal as his father was to our agreements."

  "But there are rumors that shifter factions are everywhere," Lord Wincel said. "The commoners who spread them must be mad."

  "Commoners are like dogs," explained Lord Histion. The shells on his feet clacked as he shifted. "They'll say anything you wish them to in hopes of a reward."

  "My commoners do no such thing," said Lady Dell, crossing her silken feet demurely.

  "I agree with Lord Wincel," boomed Lord Thurstun. His great stomach jerked as he spoke. "I've been hearing all sorts of madness about how shifters have been helping commoners forage for food, how they save their children from harm."

  "It happened in Masonshire."

  The quiet, rough-edged voice came from Lord Jeriel, who had ceased fingering his token.

  "A lost child," he continued. "Said to be dead. A great wolf was seen guiding the child home. I've heard the account directly from the parents."

  The disbelief was palpable. Everyone's feet shifted at once.

  "You can't possibly believe them," said Lady Ashlin in a shrill voice.

  "I had no reason to disbelieve them."

  "Perhaps the wolf hunted the child rather than guided it," suggested Lord Thurstun, rubbing his belly absently.

  Lady Rina's sandaled foot slid over one of Lord Thurstun's purple sashes. "I believe," she said, "a better point to make for Lord Arundel is that none of his patrols have seen sign of shifters in years. How many do you have out just now?"

  "Less than there have ever been. Three patrols in Orion, five in Lach, and only two in Ekesia. There is one returning shortly from Zari."

  "Eleven patrols in four countries, then." Beneath the table, Lady Rina's toes dipped under the sash, causing Lord Thurstun's jeweled hand to flutter toward her lap, where a sliver of tanned thigh lay exposed from a slit in her dress. "What do you think, Lord Thurstun? Should we pay for another patrol to be sent out? There is a good chance we will pay to find nothing."

  "We pay...?" Lord Thurstun's thick fingers twitched, brushing Lady Rina's leg. "But it's been nearly two decades since the rebellion, and as you said, no sign has been found of shifters. They are likely all dead."

  Lord Arundel's leather boot moved back an inch, but otherwise he maintained a relaxed posture.

  "There have been other rumors, as well," Arundel said. "Rumors about shifters speaking with peasants, stealing food from our forests. They pose a threat to all the wizards of Lach. Shall I remind you of the rebellion? Lord Thurstun, have you forgotten your mother-in-law? Lady Ashlin, your young cousin? And I'm sure you haven't forgotten your own brother, Lady Rina...?"

  "Mauled to death by a stag," Lady Rina stated. Her foot stilled.

  "His own shifter," Arundel pointed out.

  "My brother was a foolish wizard and a heartless man."

  Arundel's hand, which had lain composed in his lap, curled into a fist. A wavy whisper of prayer came from Lady Dell, and Lord Wincel's rabbit-lined boots tapped against the stone ground.

  Lady Ashlin drew herself up. "My young cousin was no such fool, and he never lacked compassion. I say we send out a patrol. What's the harm?"

  "For how many more years will you ask us to send them out?" Lord Histion said, straightening in his chair. "How much use will it be sending out another patrol when none of the recent ones have brought anything useful back? We could be putting more coin toward trading galleys, garrisons—"

  "Feeding the poor," Lady Dell added.

  "You can keep your coin," Lord Arundel snapped. His fist relaxed. "I have had every success I've hoped for this spring. I wish you to share in my bounty."

  There must have been a signal, for the door to the solar opened and servants carried in heavy chests, which they set at each of the council-members' feet.

  A bribe, Ember realized. What was this success he spoke of?

  "For you, Lord Histion, a rare horn-shell from my own Merewood Lake."

  The twisted horn-shell gleamed pink and coral and burnt red, as large as Lord Histion's hands.

  "Lady Ashlin, I gift you a small priceless dagger to carry on your person. Forged using the best steel and the strongest of Blinding spells."

  Knotted patterns of gold were inlaid on the hilt. The blade was long and pointed, and the metallic scent of the spell permeated the air.

  "For you, Lord Wincel, a feather from the extinct firebird."

  A servant flourished the plume from the chest like a bout of flame. Scarlet, orange, and gold melted together, looking more liquid than feather. No doubt Lord Wincel tucked it into his hat.

  Lord Arundel presented other gifts: exquisite fu
rs of ermine and snakeskins for Lady Rina, a jeweled box of gold for Lord Thurstun, and a sun made of rose-quartz for Lady Dell.

  "Lastly, Lord Jeriel's gift. In my spring fortune, I've hit a rare spot of stone that I'd like to give you access to."

  Lord Jeriel's fidgeting fingers quieted. "The type of stone?"

  "Sunstone. There isn't much of it, but I've no use for it and I know of its value to masons."

  Lord Jeriel pocketed his token and stood. "It is beyond value, Lord Arundel."

  Ember watched as the shadows cast on the floor shook hands. Each one followed in turn, grasping and shaking heartily.

  Another patrol mission approved by the Council.

  She dove for the hole near Lord Jeriel's chair before the dog could see her again, and clambered back through the cellar. Night had already folded over Silverglen, and dawn would rise soon. She was weary, and slipping back into her human form was like dipping into a cozy bath. She would be pushing herself by not sleeping, but it would be worth it. Gregory's race, his dream. She couldn't, and wouldn't, miss it.

  chapter six

  She found Gregory at the edge of the swampland, shrouded by black waters and shadowy ash trees. Ember saw them easily in the yellow moonlight with her owl eyes, and the squish of Pigeon's hooves in the muck resounded through thickets and up to the branch of a half-dead maple where she perched.

  Bone-weary, she thought as Pigeon's head drooped. But alive.

  Unlike his mare, Gregory sat erect and attentive. He guided Pigeon around a large ash and paused occasionally so he could listen.

  Ember followed them, gliding soundlessly from one ash to another, scouting from above. He had only to emerge from the swampland and travel a short distance through forest before arriving at Kingsbury.

  And yet he is taking his time.

  Restless, she flew up above the canopy. Already the moon's edge was fading and the sky softening to the east. A rank stench rose with the wind as she circled Gregory overhead. As an owl, she could easily avoid thinking of the dead, or the dying, or whether they had died by Gregory's hand. It wasn't so easy to ignore the sheen of blood and the gleam of a sword through the canopy.