Brian Kittrell - The Consuls of the Vicariate

“They’ve gone to make peace with the Sorbians at Balfan.”

He scoffed. “Then he lives. Probably haggard with more wrinkles than he had before, yes?”

“No.”

His brow crinkled in confusion. “How is that possible?”

She swallowed deeply. “He used one of the stones-”

“The stones? Expended someone’s essence?”

She nodded.

“No… he couldn’t. How could he do that?”

“Marac was very persuasive,” she said, averting her eyes.

“Marac!” He slammed his head backward into the pillow. “I can’t believe he would want such a thing.”

“Can’t you? He’s very close to you, Lae. He wouldn’t let go.”

“He should have. Do they have any idea whose soul they used to augment the spell?”

“No.”

“Some militiaman, no doubt. The stones from the black pouch?” Laedron searched his belt for something, but he apparently didn’t find it.

“Yes, that is where he found them.”

“I’ll have to have a talk with him. He shouldn’t have done that. We don’t know what happens to souls used in such a way. We’re talking about eternity here.”

She took his hand. “Please, don’t be angry with him.”

“How can I be anything else? He’s done something unspeakable. He forced Jurgen’s hand to augment a spell, expending an innocent soul in the process.”

“He only wanted you back, Lae.” She wrapped her other hand around his and squeezed. “I can’t say that I didn’t want it, too, and I suspect Jurgen didn’t have a problem going through with it. He protested, yes, but he performed the spell.”

“Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Yes, Lae.” She drew close. “Your death would have driven a dagger through our hearts.”

His expression softened, then he sighed. “No matter what I may think, it cannot be undone now. If it can, I don’t know the way.”

“Accept this as a second chance. A second chance at life.” She smiled. “Can you honestly say that you would rather be dead?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s a difficult position. I can’t disapprove of being alive, but I dislike the method. That’s all.”

“The method aside, I’m glad you’re back with us.” She averted her eyes when she felt her heart longing to be closer to him.

“You, Val?”

She leaned backward and spoke with a casual tone. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

He grinned. “Yes, of course. We’re friends, right? Friends appreciate one another’s company.”

Do I want to leave this as a friendship? She knew that she would have to be the one to make the first move because it seemed that Laedron didn’t know a way to approach her since her father’s death. Though she knew by his stilted behavior in her presence that he had a strong attraction, she wanted to be sure. With tact, then. I have to find out if he truly feels the way I think he does .

She felt a change of subject might be best to get him to loosen up. “You’ve come a long way, haven’t you, Sorcerer?”

“Yes. It feels further than it probably was.”

She nodded. “I feel the same somehow. Even though I’ve lived here my entire life, I feel like a stranger to this city now that my father is gone.”

“Have you considered what you will do?” Laedron asked. “You know, when we’ve finished with all of this.”

“I…” She paused.

“You don’t have any idea, do you?”

“I do, but I am afraid to say.” She turned her eyes downward.

“Why would you be afraid?”

“Embarrassment.”

Laedron sat up and adjusted his pillows. “You don’t have to feel ashamed. I’ll be quiet about it if that’s what you want.”

“Well, Jurgen said that I will always have a place to stay-he’ll make sure of that-but I don’t want to live a cloistered life. I want to go out into the world and explore, see adventure, and learn of new lands and new people. I yearn to hear tales of great heroes in lands I’ve never seen, to taste the food I have only read about in books.”

“Why is that something to hide? I don’t find it unreasonable.”

“Because… I… I’d really like to go with you.”

Laedron raised an eyebrow. “With us?”

She looked at him directly. “No. With you .”

“Me? But why?” He leaned back and crossed his arms.

“You’ve watched out for me since my father died, you and your friends. It’s as if you were there every time I was in danger, unwavering and brave. I don’t know why, but I feel that going with you is the right choice.”

Laedron shook his head. “The path we tread isn’t a safe one, Val. You’ll need to take time to decide for certain.”

“I’ve made up my mind-”

“No, please. Think about what you’re deciding and take some time. What you propose should not be done hastily.”

She nodded. “All right, Lae. I will do what you say, but you shouldn’t be surprised if my decision doesn’t change. I cannot imagine a life here without my father.”

“And if that’s what you conclude after giving it some time, I won’t argue with you. However, I want you to be sure. I know how the sentiments of home can bring you down once you’ve been gone for some time.”

“Tell me of your home, Lae,” she said, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. “Sorbia, isn’t it?”

“Nothing to tell, really.”

She gently swatted his hand. “That can’t be true after what you’ve said. Your sentiments of home obviously run deep.”

“You’re right.” Laedron shifted his weight. “My homeland is one of rolling grasslands and hills, fertile soil, and tall oaks and hickories. But that’s not what makes it the place to which I am eager to return. To crave those things is for farmers, and stewards of the land we are not.

On the western coast lies a village called Reven’s Landing, my home and the most serene place I’ve ever known. Gentle beaches, the warmth of the sun on your back most of the year, and all the comforts of our cottage draw me back there when I’m discouraged. I can still taste the redfish we had not long before I left. Those were easier times indeed, those times spent in my small fishing village.”

“Sounds like a wonderful place, Lae. Your family?”

“They fled when the war started. The Morcaine mages’ academy was attacked, and Marac brought news that Ma had taken Laren, my sister, with her, but they didn’t tell anyone where they were going. That was probably for the best; no one can seek you out if no one knows where you are.”

“And your da?”

“That’s a long story.” Laedron rested his head on his hand.

“I’d like to learn of him if you don’t mind.”

“My da was the Bannor, a lower noble and administrator of sorts, to the king, appointed to Reven’s Landing.”

“Sort of like a mayor?”

“Somewhat, but he had been given more authority than you might see with a mayor. His name was Wardrick Telpist, and he passed away when I was still very young. If not for the portrait in our house, I would likely have forgotten his face. Ma always said I resembled him, but I couldn’t see it. I always thought I favored her, and most people agreed.”

“I never knew my mother,” Valyrie said. “She died during childbirth, and Da was left to care for me. When I got old enough to understand, I pitied him for the sacrifices he was forced to make. He gave up everything-his ambitions, his career, and his friends-all so I might have a better life. He took the innkeeper job from my uncle so he could work and care for me at the same time. Things weren’t always well between us, though. I took many of my blessings for granted, and I wasn’t as kind as I should have been at times.”