Brian Kittrell - The Consuls of the Vicariate

Nodding, Laedron said, “Truly remarkable. I can see we’re in good hands.”

“The best, if I might say so.”

“How long do you think it will take to reach Nessadene?” Laedron asked.

“Tomorrow night. No later.”

Not wanting to irritate the captain with a barrage of questions, Laedron simply nodded in reply. I wouldn’t want to distract him and cause us to crash into one of those spikes. “I’ll leave you to it, Master Bannelt.”

“Thank you.” Bannelt returned to the helmsman’s side. “Oh, and one other thing. Meals aren’t served aboard the ship; you acquire your food from the stores on your own schedule.”

“The food isn’t rationed?”

“No need. We spend so little time at sea that we would reach land well before starving or even becoming uncomfortably hungry.”

Laedron returned to the forecastle, and upon opening the door, he felt a sharp pain in his hand.

Then, he heard a gasp, and Brice said, “Lae! I’m sorry!”

The blood poured from Laedron’s palm like a dam that had given way to a reservoir, and he spotted a bloody blade in Brice’s hand and a clean one in Marac’s.

“What in the hells?” Laedron shouted.

Valyrie took Laedron by the arm and pressed on his hand with a cloth. “They were practicing-”

“Practicing? You’ve nearly sliced off my hand!” Laedron writhed in pain, and the cloth that Valyrie had pressed against his skin quickly became saturated.

“I’m sorry, Lae,” Brice said again. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What were you doing practicing in here? You couldn’t go out on the deck? In the open?”

“He was showing me a move. I’m-”

“Silence.” Laedron shook his head, then moaned from the excruciating pain.

Valyrie snatched away the cloth, replacing it with a fresh one. “What’s this?”

The flow of blood had stopped completely, and only a red smear besmirched the clean rag. Laedron examined either side of his hand in astonishment.

“Must not have been that deep,” Brice said, crouching beside Laedron.

Laedron gasped, “How can this be?”

“Like I said, it wasn’t deep, right?”

“No, it went down to the bone.” Valyrie took hold of Laedron’s wrist and turned his hand. “Now, nothing. Not even a scratch.”

Marac pursed his lips. “The spell Jurgen cast. It must be.”

Glancing at Marac, Laedron’s jaw dropped. “I can’t sleep, I never tire, and now I cannot be injured?”

“I don’t know,” Marac said, “but I think we should work quickly to find out once we reach Lasoron. I hope this Farrah Harridan person can tell us something.”

Valyrie shrugged. “I hope that we can find her at all.”

The remainder of that day and the next passed without incident, and evening set over the sea for the second time. Laedron pondered the possibilities and mysteries of the spell that had been placed on him, unable to come to a conclusion about its full impact on his body and his life. He experienced the gamut of thoughts and emotions attributed to the changes he had seen, his gladness for being saved from death and his abhorrence to the undesirable side effects, his newfound abilities along with his inhuman faults, and the unknown with the realized.

The last one,” Bannelt said, pointing at the pillar passing the starboard side. “Straight on from here, we’ll make the port of Nessadene.”

“Good. I’m eager to get there,” Laedron replied

Bannelt nodded. “I see that. My day’s ended, and the night watch will be on to take you into the harbor. Best of luck.”

“And to you. Thank you for your courtesy.”

Valyrie walked across the deck. “How are you feeling?”

“Well. Better than I could ever expect at this late hour.”

She leaned on the railing. “Do you think we’ll find Farrah Harridan?”

“We can do nothing but try, I’m afraid. She’s our only lead.” Laedron ducked his head. “Do you find me repulsive?”

“What? No! Why do you ask that?”

“I’ve noticed you keeping your distance of late. You stopped visiting me at night, so I began to wonder if I had done or said something to offend you.”

“No.” She sighed. “I didn’t want to torment you.”

“Torment me? After what we’ve shared, how could you ever think that you were tormenting me?”

“I know that you haven’t been sleeping.”

“And what does that have to do with it?”

“In some small way, I thought that you might be upset at me for sleeping so well while you lay awake, unable to do that simple human act. I didn’t want you to feel any worse.”

He shook his head. “That wouldn’t have upset me, Val. None of this is your fault. It’s no one’s fault. It’s happened, and we must find out what to do about it.”

“I agree, but I’m afraid of what lies ahead,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “I’ve heard that the streets of Nessadene can be difficult for those inexperienced with the city.”

“Whatever happens, I’ll protect you. You need not worry about your safety.”

“No, now’s not the time for that. We must simply say that we’ll watch out for each other.”

“You doubt my abilities?”

“No, and don’t be too sure, Lae,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder. “We all know that you’re a gifted sorcerer, but you have to learn to rely on us more than you do.”

He lifted her chin. “The battles with the Drakars should have taught me that, but it took you reminding me for it to truly settle in.”

“What happened with them? With Gustav and Andolis?”

Turning away, he said, “No matter now. All of that is in the past.”

“I’d like to know.”

“Why?”

“To better understand you. To know what you went through to get here.”

“All right, if you must.” He cleared his throat and took hold of the railing with either hand. “I found Gustav in the Pilgrim’s Rest cathedral after he captured Marac and Mikal. I fought with him from his inner sanctum, up the stairs, and in front of the congregation. He was powerful, far stronger with magic than I ever imagined, but I survived.”

“How did you defeat him?”

“I caused a massive chandelier to fall, crushing him, and I took my teacher’s scepter back that day.”

“And Andolis?”

“I never defeated him.”

She looked confused. “But, he is dead?”

“The killing stroke belongs to Marac. Andolis had beaten me completely, bested me in magic on every exchange. If Marac hadn’t been there, I would have died, and your city would be burning still.”

“If your friend hadn’t been there, you would have failed,” she said, giving him a smile.

“You’re right.” He took her hands and gently squeezed them, then he looked across the sea and spotted the glow of light on the horizon. “One day soon, I hope that we’ll be free of these troubles, that we can live our lives normally, like everyone else.”

“With me at your side?”

Laedron swallowed deeply. “I hope that will be the case.”

“You have no need to hope for it.” She kissed him. “Hope is only necessary when either heart is unwilling.”

“Be that as it may, we have much left before us and many questions unanswered. I don’t want us to act in haste, for we could face any manner of danger in the days ahead.”

She nodded. “Very well. After.”

Watching her walk away, Laedron sensed her disappointment and couldn’t let that be the last word of the evening. “I don’t want to hurt you, on purpose or otherwise.”

“You won’t,” she said, turning back. “You can’t.”