Brian Kittrell - The Immortals of Myrdwyer

“Then, we went deep into the ground, fighting legions of undead and crystal creations, until we reached the end where the madman himself was holed up. I had to leave him to the mages to handle, though. Sorcerers fight sorcerers, and knights slay the rest.”

“You did all that? I must have had the wrong impression of you, Sir Brice.”

“What impression is that?”

“I wouldn’t think you were the brave one at first sight,” she said, sizing him up. “You just don’t seem the type.”

“Men behave in different ways in different situations. Just as I’m calm and cordial now, I could spin into a rage at the mere sight of evildoers.”

“Spin into a rage?” She smiled. “I’m pleased to see you well, then. The way you tell it, I’m lucky to see you at all.”

“And I you, milady. It’ll be difficult to return to my home and never see you again.” He stood. “I shouldn’t stay long, for my companions may be eager for me to return. Thank you for all of the kindnesses you’ve shown me and all the help you’ve given. It is a debt I cannot easily repay.” He turned and walked toward the door.

“Perhaps I could come to Sorbia and visit you sometime.”

He froze. “Could you? ‘Tis a long way and a hard road.” He hid the slight tremble in his hand, hoping that, if she did come for a visit, she wouldn’t ask his friends about their experiences in the ruins.

“As a family, we have the means. Would you like that?”

“Yes, I would like that very much.” Brice returned to her, took her hand, and kissed it. “Farewell. Until we meet again.”

Once through the door, Brice heard it close behind him, and he walked along the wide boulevard toward the palace, unable to keep the smile off his face.

* * *

“That was an extraordinary tale, if I may say so myself. What a horrible man that Harridan must have been.” Jurgen wiped his mouth with a linen and placed his cup on a nearby table. “I do not claim to know the truth of all things, but I feel that you were right to do what you did.”

Laedron nodded. “The spells in that book were something men were never meant to discover, I think.” He glanced at Marac and Valyrie. “My friends had to remind me of that, and I’m eternally thankful.”

“Of course they did.”

Raising his eyebrow, Laedron didn’t know if Jurgen meant to insult him or if he had something else to say.

Jurgen seemed to notice Laedron’s cold stare. “I’m sorry if I offended. I meant that, being a sorcerer, you’re prone to an insatiable curiosity, and sometimes sorcerers must be saved from themselves.”

“You know other sorcerers?”

“No, no, but I’ve been studying the subject since you left. With the wealth of knowledge you held about our kind, I thought I might learn a bit about yours. It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

“The path to tolerance is paved by a mutual respect and understanding. Without them, our church and your Circle can never exist side by side.” Jurgen grinned. “If I make that first step, perhaps others of my ilk will follow.”

“Thank you,” Laedron said, turning when he heard footsteps. “Ah, Brice. Did you accomplish… whatever it is you wanted to accomplish?”

Brice nodded.

Laedron stood. “Good. We would stay longer, but everything in my being desires nothing more than to return home to see my family again. We have one more stop to make, then we’ll be on our way westward.”

“I shouldn’t have been so selfish as to hold you for so long, young man.” Jurgen put his arm around Laedron’s shoulders, walking him toward the entry foyer. “Anytime you wish to return, you are free to do so. Not just free, but welcome.”

“I never thought I’d say this.” Laedron’s voice cracked, and he choked on the words. “Never imagined that I’d be proud to call a priest ‘friend.’”

“The wounds will take some time to heal, but they will. They will .” Jurgen opened the door. “May the Creator watch over you on your journey home.”

Valyrie grabbed Jurgen, embracing him. “It could be a long time before I see you again. You’ve always been such a good friend to our family, and it pains me to know that I may never come back to visit.”

Jurgen wiped the tear from her cheek. “You may come and pay me a visit anytime you like. So long as this old body draws breath, I’ll be here for you whenever you may need me, Valyrie.”

She nodded, and stepping away, she drew her sleeve across her nose and sniffled. “Goodbye.” She looped her arm under Laedron’s and walked beside him.

Outside, Marac tapped Laedron on the shoulder. “One more stop?”

“I thought we might visit our fellow conspirators, Piers and Caleb.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.”

* * *

When they arrived, the door of the Shimmering Dawn headquarters stood open. Laedron figured that Piers had gotten many more recruits because the place bustled with activity, a number of new men with unfamiliar faces going about their various duties. I wonder if I shall be able to find the man amongst all these people. After wrapping his horse’s reins around the post outside, he crossed the threshold, then ambled about the front room.

“You’re back!” Caleb ran to the end of the landing above them, turned at the stairs, and skipped two steps at a time coming down. “In one piece, no less. Wel-”

Caleb hit the floor, and Brice stood above him, shaking his fist. “That’s for the lock.”

Caleb massaged the side of his face. “The lock? What lock?”

“The trapped lock you gave me. Don’t pretend like you don’t remember.”

“You picked it?”

“Oh, yes!” Brice bobbed his head, his ears turning red. “I picked it, all right. Stuck me in the finger, and the soreness still hasn’t gone away.”

Caleb, taking Marac’s hand and standing, shook his head. “I suppose I deserve that one. Do the rest of you want to take a swing at me while we’re at it?”

“You haven’t done any wrong to me, but don’t try anything.” Marac folded his arms, then laughed. “I’ve never seen Thimble so mad in all my life, so I have to thank you for that one.”

“It wasn’t funny,” Brice said.

“So says you.”

“Now that that’s settled…” Laedron glanced between the three of them. “Could you tell Piers that we’ve come to bid him farewell?”

“Piers!” Caleb yelled toward the upper level. Subtle as always. I could’ve done that.

Piers strolled into view on the upper level. When he reached the edge, he put his hands on the railing, and although he opened his mouth to speak, he stopped when he saw Laedron and his companions. Piers descended the staircase and shook Laedron’s hand, then exchanged handshakes with the others. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate everything you’ve done for us. We’re well on our way to getting the order back to where it needs to be.”

“You did your part the same as we did,” Laedron said.

“What brings you back to Azura? More Zyvdredi plots?”

I could go the rest of my life without hearing the word Zyvdredi again. “No, we’ve come to say farewell. As soon as we’re able, we’ll be off to Balfan to seek passage back to the Midlands.” Never have I uttered sweeter words. The Midlands and Sorbia, at long last.

“You won’t stay a while? Can we get you anything? Food? Drink?”

“No, but I appreciate the offer. We only wanted to see you one last time before departing.”

“In that case, take care of yourselves. Take word with you to Sorbia to the knights of Westmarch Keep. Tell them there that the Azura Chapter is prepared for whatever may come.”