Brian Kittrell - The Consuls of the Vicariate

No trouble? I guess that’s better than ‘an unbearable pain.’ The butler stood aside, and Brice entered the house.

Collette was dressed in all the finery of a young noble. She wore a dress made from silk or some equally fine material, gold and silver jewelry, and sparkling shoes that drew Brice’s eye. “Miss Steadfahl-”

“After what has passed, call me Collette, but I don’t know what to call you.”

Thinking back, Brice realized that he’d never told her his name. “Brice Warren of Reven’s Landing.”

“That will be all, Percy.” The butler bowed, and Collette descended the stairs. “Reven’s Landing, you say? I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of it.”

“It’s a small village in the west of Sorbia.”

She smiled. “A week ago, revealing such would have landed you in a jail to rot.”

“Then, I guess I’d better be glad it’s not a week ago. I only came to thank you for what you did.”

“You thanked me already.”

“Yes, but we were in quite a hurry. I just wanted to tell you that before I leave, and I wanted you to know that we all-Sorbians, Heraldans, Falacorans, and all the rest-appreciate the favor you did for us.”

“Think nothing of it. You did a service for me, so we’re even.”

“For you?”

“Yes, of course. You got me out of that house, out of the clutches of that terrible woman. I’m free again because of you and your friends.”

“Then, we’re even.”

“What will you do now?” Collette asked.

“We must go to Lasoron.”

“You just said that you’re from Sorbia. Why Lasoron? Won’t you return home?”

“One of our party has some unanswered questions, and he seems to think the answers are there.”

“Then I wish you luck in your journey,” she said, turning to the stairs. “I appreciate your stopping by.”

“That’s it?”

She looked back. “What do you mean?”

“No favor? Not even a kiss?” Brice stared at the floor. “I was always told that knights were supposed to get things like that.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You’re a knight?”

He bobbed his head, and she turned back to him. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes in anticipation of a kiss.

“Ouch!” He reeled from the slap.

“There. Now you have something to take with you on your journey.”

“Did you have to hit me so hard?” He rubbed the side of his face.

“This is no fairy tale, and you’re no knight in shining armor. You think I would go around kissing any man who fancied me? My father met his end for doing just that!”

“I’m sorry if I offended-”

“I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but assume nothing more.”

“Then I will only say that I’m glad you didn’t turn us over to Forane. Good day, miss.” He turned and opened the door.

“Wait, Brice. I’m sorry. I was too harsh with you.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

She sighed. “I don’t know how to feel. I miss my father, but he caused me insurmountable grief. That’s not your fault, and you don’t deserve my ire.”

He didn’t know exactly what to say in reply. So he waited for her to speak again.

“Here,” she said, slipping an iron ring off her finger. “I bestow upon you this ring, a symbol of my favor.”

He took it and gave her a deep bow. “M’lady.”

“Be careful out in the wide world, Sir Brice. If you should find yourself in Azura again, pay me a visit and tell me of your travels.”

“Of course.” He smiled, then went through the door and closed it behind him.

This knight business is hard work , he mused, the sting of the slap still fresh on his cheek. I couldn’t resist seeing her one last time, though. Maybe we will meet again .

* * *

Laedron and Marac entered the Shimmering Dawn headquarters, and Laedron noticed that the long table had been filled with a feast-a variety of fresh vegetables, meats, and desserts. Brice had returned sometime earlier, and he was busy indulging himself, along with Piers and Caleb.

“Are we invited?” Laedron asked.

Around a mouthful of food, Piers replied, “Dig in.”

Marac sat and grabbed a cut of beef from a serving platter. “We have much to thank you for, Master Piers.”

“No, no. We should be thanking you. If not for you, we would still be lurking in the shadows, biding our time until the army could reach us.”

“That was your plan?”

“We suspected for quite some time that the Heraldans would be unable to summon the assistance of anyone other than the Falacorans.” Piers popped a slice of tomato into his mouth. “It would have been bloody, but the Falacorans would have been forced to retreat.”

Marac shrugged. “You sound rather confident of that.”

“You think it would have gone another way?”

“I saw the battle to the north, and both sides were nearly annihilated. The Sorbian army would have had its hands full for years, and that’s if they could set a siege.”

“Perhaps, but we have no need to worry about such things now.”

“Yes,” Laedron said. “Fenric should be close to Morcaine by now with the terms of peace if he hasn’t arrived already.”

Brice looked up from his plate. “We can only hope.”

“What did you go do, anyway?” Marac asked. “What in the heavens could you have to do here that doesn’t involve the order?”

“I had to say goodbye to someone.”

“Who?”

“A girl named Collette.” Brice took a bite of mutton and chased it with some wine. “What? You think I’m incapable of doing something without your watchful eye?”

Marac glanced at Laedron, then said, “No, of course not.”

“Good,” Brice said, rising. “See you in the morning.”

Having finished his meal, Laedron stood once Brice had left. “I’m going to get some rest, too, if I can.”

“Goodnight, friend,” Piers said.

* * *

An hour or more passed, and Laedron lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Why can’t I sleep?After two whole days of being awake, I don’t tire? What sort of cruel joke is this?

A knock on the door broke his train of thought. He sprang out of bed, opened the door, and saw Valyrie standing in the darkened hall outside.

“I was wondering if I could come see you for a while,” Valyrie said.

He opened the door the rest of the way. “Certainly. Come in.”

“I’m anxious about the journey,” she said. “I’ve traveled with Da before, but never outside the country.”

“It’s nothing major,” Laedron said, closing the door behind her. “I can see why you might be nervous. I was nervous when we left Sorbia. But the feeling will pass.”

“I’m glad that you think so. The churning of my stomach says otherwise.”

“It’ll pass. Trust me.”

She smiled. “You’re having trouble sleeping again?”

“You can tell?” he asked, letting out a laugh.

“We could talk for a while if you want. Maybe that will help.”

Laedron was willing to try anything, so he nodded. “Do you think the war-”

“I’d rather speak personally.” She sat beside him. “We’ve all talked at length about the war and the Drakars. I would prefer a change.”

“All right.”

She folded her hands in her lap. “Tell me about Ismerelda.”

“Ismerelda?”

“Surely you know of whom I speak.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. She was an Uxidin and a gifted sorceress. Taught me much of what I know of magic.”

“Could you describe her to me? I’d like to get a mental picture of her.”

“Fair skin and slender, long golden hair, and a remarkable beauty. Centuries old, yet eternally youthful.” He tried to remember her the way he’d seen her in the boarding house in Morcaine. “She always had a close eye to detail, and she spoke, walked, and dressed as a noble would.”