Stealing Sorcery (10 page)

But, unlike Nakane, he never stopped smiling.

“Do you play, dear?”

Lydia glanced to her right and saw that Nedelya was finally looking directly at her.

“No, Baroness. It’s not an accurate depiction of military tactics, and thus I’ve never found it useful.”

The baroness took another sip of her wine, frowning. “I don’t believe most people play because they are making a study of tactics, Miss Hastings. I believe they find it enjoyable.”

“Hm.” Lydia pushed up her glasses, which had been slipping down her nose while she leaned against the railing. “Do you play, then, baroness?”

Nedelya chuckled lightly, raising two fingers to her lips. “Of course not, darling. Crowns is not a lady’s game.”

The baroness turned her head, looking back over the railing. “Nakane, unfortunately, has never been much of a lady. She has always taken more after her father.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that in a way that would not be insulting to someone.
“She seems to be very talented.”

“Yes,” the baroness nodded. “She plays each game on several different levels.”

“What do you mean?”

Baroness Theas momentarily shut her eyes, and then waved her wine glass over the railing. “She plays a friendly game with the son of a man who may have murdered her brother. In playing, she chooses the armies of Blake Hartigan, her father’s greatest rival – and then allows herself to lose to the pieces of House Dianis, skillfully chosen by Aladir as a logical army to counter her own.”

Lydia frowned. Is she testing Aladir somehow?
“Why is she playing the game that way?”

Nedelya fluttered her eyes, forming a slight smile. “I haven’t the faintest idea, my dear. I don’t play Crowns.”

***

It was hours past nightfall when Lydia finally found an opportunity to meet with her partner alone. The pair patrolled the grounds, searching for any sign of intruders, as they had each night since the attack. Pairs of guards were placed outside Nakane’s and Nedelya’s chambers, rotating every four hours. Initially, Lydia had pushed for the guards to wait inside the rooms, but the noblewomen both scoffed at the idea.

“Any luck at the citadel today?” Aladir asked, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. It wasn’t particularly cold by Lydia’s standards, but she was wearing a long sleeved robe, and Aladir almost always wore sleeveless tunics. They were both wearing standard issue single-handed paladin swords on their belts, and Lydia noted that Aladir also had a dagger sheathed on the opposite side of his own belt.

“None. Arbiter Stone remains as implacable as his name implies. He won’t even give me a single squad. He said he’s lucky we’re being allowed to pursue this at all, given that it’s not officially in paladin jurisdiction.”

Her partner shook his head, his green eyes the brightest thing in the night. “I could try talking to Arbiter Lyselia. She’s a friend of the family.”

“Going to another arbiter after being denied is a good way to get both of us demoted, Aladir.”

Aladir paused in his step, lowering his head. “Kae is dead, Lydia. You think I care about politics?”

“Of course not, but you should care about practicality. If House Theas wasn’t so influential, I don’t think they’d even be letting the two of us look into this.”

The life sorcerer balled his hands into fists. “I hear your words, Lydia, but how can our order turn their gaze aside when an innocent is dead?”

The sorceress sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss. Truly. But any breach of protocol is only going to hurt us when we catch the bastard who did this.”

“If. If we catch him.” Aladir looked up, turning his gaze to Lydia’s eyes. She met his stare. “You’re more confident than I am at this point. With each passing day, our chances diminish. We guard when we should hunt.”

“The city guard is investigating, and they have more manpower than we do. If we find anything that warrants additional resources, I’ll ask again –”

“We’re not getting help, Lydia. And we’re not helping here.” He jerked a thumb toward the tower where Nedelya slept. “What are we going to do if the assassin returns, using the same methodology as last time? Presume that it was a Harvester of Poison that was summoned.”

“I —”

“I’ll tell you what we’d do – die messily.” Aladir withdrew his hands from his pockets, folding his arms in front of him. “We can’t fight a Harvester, Lydia. But we can fight someone who can summon a Harvester – and you’re our best chance of finding him.”

Lydia folded her own arms. “You’re wrong. About the first part, at least.” She reached into the pouch on her left side, withdrawing a large crystal – the Dominion Essence of Poison that they had found in the ritual area. “If we encounter a Harvester of Poison, I would throw this at it and run. Then, while it’s busy absorbing this lovely crystal, I would gather Nakane and Nedelya and flee to the citadel. Two paladins may not be able to fight a Harvester, but you can rest assured that two thousand would be more than sufficient.”

Aladir sighed, unfolding his arms and rubbing the back of his head. “I’m sorry for being so negative, Lydia. But it’s been weeks with no sign of progress. I’m sure the city guards are doing all they can, but…”

“Protecting the most likely targets for a second attack is more important than catching the assassin. And we’re the best chance the remainder of the Theas family has to survive.”

Her partner turned his gaze away, clenching his jaw. “Fine. We can stay here, for now. But isn’t there anyone we can trust to investigate? I’d ask my family, but of course, that wouldn’t quite work.”

Lydia leaned her head against her hand, considering.
Taelien is still in training – and he wouldn’t even know where to start looking. Landen and Velas are in the same position…but I suppose there is someone.

“I have someone I can ask, but you’re not going to like it.”

***

Hours later, Lydia pressed a letter against a mirror.

Dear Jonan,

I know you’ve been looking for a good opportunity to visit Velthryn. As it turns out, now would be a good time.

-Lydia

Velas sat in the stands of the Koranval Coliseum, overlooking the setup of the contest in the arena below. The stadium was the largest in the city and dedicated to Koranir, the God of Strength. During sporting events and war games, the Coliseum could seat nearly twenty thousand citizens. At the moment, it held a smaller but still intimidating number – more than a thousand full paladins, several hundred squires and priests, and nearly five hundred paladin applicants.

Must be more than half of the paladins in the city here. This is going to be embarrassing if I mess it up.

She noted a few boxes of private citizens in the stands as well – the majority of whom were probably close friends of high ranking paladins or nobles who donated significant amounts of money. She saw the banners of House Korvis, the owners of the coliseum itself, in one of the larger boxes – although not the largest. To the left of House Korvis she noted another box flying the banners of House Glaid, the house of the city’s current champion swordmaster, Dreas Glaid. She couldn’t quite see into the box from her angle – it was too high up – but she wondered if the swordmaster himself would be watching the contest below.

“You’re thinking. That’s dangerous.” Landen poked a finger into her ribs and she playfully smacked his hand. He was dressed in full armor; a look she thought suited him. Freshly shaved and with his hair trimmed short, he was the very image of the perfect knight. In times like this, his persona glittered just as brightly as his mail and served just as well for deflecting threats. Velas knew how to exploit the weaknesses in both of his forms of armor, but she hoped she’d never have to make use of them.

“Oh, you know, just looking for any actual competition since there isn’t any close by.”

Landen raised a hand to his heart, fluttering his eyes. “I am wounded by your dismissal, my lady. Is that any way to treat a man with a higher estimated performance score than yours?”

Velas folded her arms, which were just as well armored as Landen’s. She wasn’t wearing her full armor today – just a mail shirt with bracers and greaves – because they didn’t know the details of the test and she wanted a mix of protection and mobility. If their qualifying event was a footrace she suspected Landen was doomed. “Oh, you know those scores are bullshit. And you’re only six points higher than me anyway.”

“If they’re bullshit, why do you remember our exact scores?”

“Sometimes it’s important to quantify the exact values of bullshit. In this case, the delta between my test scores and reality is about thirty points.”

“So, you’re saying they should have put you at a forty instead of a seventy. That’s very humble of you, I’ll make sure to let the testers—”

She smacked his arm playfully, then raised her fists and shook them in the air in challenge.

“Okay, okay, I surrender.” Landen held up his palms in a defensive gesture. “And I think they’re about to announce something.”

“Finally. We’ve been waiting for hours and I’m starving.”

On the opposite side of the coliseum, a portly man stood on a raised platform dressed in ostentatious robes trimmed with silver. He was flanked by a pair of paladins, but wore no indications of any affiliation with the paladins or priests himself. Velas didn’t recognize him.

Most likely one of the people from House Korvis, then.

It took her several moments to realize that he was speaking – and then another moment before a wave of sound sorcery washed over her, carrying his voice along with it.

“Good day, friends, and welcome to our arena! Today, by the grace of Koranir, we will witness a fearsome contest. More than four hundred men and women, eager to prove themselves in the eyes of gods and men. Behold, the first of the Trials of Unyielding Steel!”

He clapped his hands, which with the benefits of sound sorcery felt like a thunderclap. Velas grit her teeth at the impact.

The man doesn’t have a tenth of the presence that Edon did, but at least he’s excited to be here.

The speaker looked around, grinning from ear to ear, and then continued. “I, Orellas of House Korvis, have the great esteem to preside over this contest. In a few moments, you will see the nature of the challenge.”

Velas watched as numerous attendants entered the arena below, beginning to prepare the field for the event. She tightened her jaw when she caught a glimpse of a straw dummy used for archery practice. All of the paladin trainees had some degree of archery training, but it was hardly her area of expertise.

When she saw the distance between the targets and where the attendants began to set up the stations with bows and standing quivers, she exhaled deeply.

“Don’t be nervous, Vel. You’ve got this.” Landen patted her on the hand.

She let out a light laugh. “Me, worry? Never.”

Velas pulled her hand away, clenching her fists in her lap.

“As you can see, this will be a medium distance archery contest. With a few extra rules to keep things interesting.” Orellas made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating where a second group of attendants were entering the arena. A stream of dozens of people carried armor and helmets, dressing the straw dummies in them.

Landen let out a groan, and Velas let herself crack a grin.

“Who’s nervous now?”

“Quiet. I’m thinking.” Landen folded his arms.

A group of uniformed paladins lined up behind the dummies, placing their hands on the shoulders of the straw men. Velas and Landen watched as the paladins spoke in unison – although their voices were too distant to hear – and blue auras flickered and disappeared around the figures. The paladins retreated from the arena shortly thereafter.

“As you can see, these archery targets are quite thoroughly protected. Armored and helmed like real soldiers, they have few vulnerable points – and even then, they are guarded by a layer of protective sorcery.”

The announcer pointed his hand toward an area in front of the archers where a group of attendants was measuring out a line in chalk. “Applicants will line up at these bows and pick a target. They will be given twelve arrows to fire. After each applicant has shot his or her arrows, they may all cross the line to retrieve them – this is the only time the applicants may walk across the chalk line.”

The representative of House Korvis grinned, gesticulating at the dummies. “But merely firing your arrows will not be enough – you must cause grievous harm to your formidable foes. Each applicant will be allowed a total of three flights of arrows. No more! When you have shot each of your arrows, the paladin judges,” he gestured to a nearby box where Velas could see a few armored figures, “will score you from zero to one hundred points. When all of the applicants have finished the test, we’ll reveal the scores. Of four hundred and eighty six candidates, only forty will pass on to the next stage of your tests.”

Velas heard a series of groans and gasps from the other applicants in the crowd, but she wasn’t surprised. These tests took considerable resources to run, and she knew the paladins only wanted the best of the best.

At archery, at least. Bah. At least I don’t have to go first.

On their way in, the paladin applicants had pulled numbered wooden wedges out of a jar to determine when they would participate in the contest. Taelien had been unlucky enough to pull a “1” – meaning he was going to be in the first group below. Landen and Velas had both pulled group “3”, so they would be taking the test together.

“One more thing, before you get too clever! No damaging the dummies while you collect your arrows.”

Another series of groans.

“And now, before we begin, I would like to lead you in the warrior’s prayer.”

Velas and Landen stood automatically, having heard and spoken the prayer hundreds of times. It was one of the most traditional Tae’os prayers, often being used before contests of battle, as well as most sports. They each raised a fist over their hearts, symbolizing carrying a sword.

As Orellas began, over a thousand voices spoke with him, nearly in unison.

Sytira, grant us the wisdom to see the path to victory,

Aendaryn, give us the skill to fight without equal,

Eratar, shelter us from the arrows of our enemies,

And Lysandri, give us the strength to shelter our friends.

Lissari, let your light wash over our wounds,

Koranir, give us the strength to fight again,

And Xerasilis, let our battles always be just.

Velas closed her eyes as she spoke the prayer. She did not believe the gods would hear them – that was not why she prayed. Even the most fervent of paladins didn’t literally believe that the gods listened to words spoken into the wind. She prayed, as each of them did, to reinforce those values within her – and to give her the inner strength to persevere.

There was a brief silence as the prayers concluded and many eyes reopened.

“First contestants, you may enter the arena!”

Velas watched as the first group of twenty-five applicants entered, still holding a hand over her chest. It was only as Taelien entered the arena, sheathed swords swinging on each of his hips, that she allowed herself to grin and return to her seat.

Keldyn Andys marched right behind Taelien, head held high. Rather than armor, he was dressed in a gilded tunic, like he was attending a formal party. His only visible weapon was a long dagger on his left hip. He waved to the crowd as he approached his arrow stand.

Keldyn leaned toward Taelien and whispered something as the pair approached their bows. The latter just shook his head. Velas thought she could see a grin on his face.

Very few of the other contestants looked familiar – which was unsurprising, given that there were hundreds of total applicants. Most were visitors from outside the city, but she also knew there were a few classes of paladin applicants that had trained separately from her own. She was looking forward to seeing what they were capable of.

But, more importantly, she was looking forward to seeing what Taelien managed to score.

“Contestants, bows ready!”

The archers lined up, drew their bows and knocked their first arrows.

“Aaaand…fire!”
Nearly all of the archers missed. Taelien and Keldyn both missed badly.

Velas lowered her forehead to her hand as she heard hooting and jeering from the crowd.

This could be embarrassing.

Eleven arrows later, Orellas called, “Cease fire!”

Taelien’s target sprouted a single arrow, barely piercing the right elbow, which was only covered with light mail. Three of his earlier arrows had struck the target, but two had been deflected by the sorcerous barrier around it and a third had deflected off the helmet.

Keldyn was faring just slightly better, with one of his arrows having pierced the target under the shoulder – a deadlier shot, but still not likely to be instantly fatal to his straw opponent.

The pair glanced at each other, and then at their other contestants. At least two of the other applicants had done considerably better. One of them was a young boy, looking like he had barely reached his teenage years. His target sprouted two arrows that had pierced through the chain mail around the neck.

Tirith
, she remembered from seeing him in the history class.
I had just assumed he was planning to be a squire. Would they allow someone his age to become a full paladin?

I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.

“Contestants, retrieve your arrows!”

Velas watched closely as Taelien braced his hand against his target’s neck, twisting his single arrow to safely retrieve it without breaking off the head. Unconsciously, she rubbed her own arm as the arrow slipped free.

After the contestants retrieved their arrows, there was a brief pause as a line of paladins emerged from the opposite arena entrance. They stood behind the dummies and, in perfect sync with one another, recast the protective spells to shield the targets from harm.

Velas let out another groan along with dozens of other members of the audience.

The announcer laughed. “You didn’t think we were going to let you wear the barriers down between volleys, did you? This needs to be a challenge! Now, archers, raise your bows!”

This is bad. At least Taelien landed an arrow – I don’t even know if I can do that much. Landen is going to be fine – he’s a good shot. Better than anyone down there right now, and easily good enough to get into the top forty. Sal and I, though…we’re going to need help.

“You may fire when ready!”

Taelien didn’t fire at all. At first, Keldyn didn’t fire either, turning to watch Taelien curiously. As the others loosed their arrows, however, Taelien simply grinned and folded his arms, watching. Eventually, Keldyn lost his patience and began to fire as well.

When Keldyn and the other archers finished, Taelien still hadn’t taken a single shot. Keldyn’s target had three new arrows embedded within – two in the less-protected lower body and one glancing hit on the neck. He grinned, saying something to Taelien.

Taelien set down his bow, grabbing all twelve of the arrows from his quiver and lifting them together. Then, as the audience watched, he ran his hand across the arrowheads.