His Cure For Magic (Book 2) Read online

  "Is this true, Andreaus?" Silas asked.

  He looked embarrassed, but he nodded as much as the other man's grip would allow.

  "And yet you were going to purchase supplies for us at one of his shops? Was my perception of your intellect skewed?"

  "As I was explaining to him before you arrived, I brought enough coin to pay my debt. I just don't have it with me. If this brute would let me go, I'll go and retrieve it. We can even go and get it together."

  "There, you see. He'll pay his debt. You can let him go."

  The other man shook his head. "I can't. I have to bring him-"

  A single step, a single motion. Silas used his left hand to snatch up one of the folded parcels of cloth and throw it into the man's face, and his right hand to grab the hand holding the dagger. He squeezed down on the nerves, forcing muscles to numb and lose their strength, and the dagger to clatter to the floor.

  Disarmed and unable to see, the large man released his grip on Andreaus so he could get the cloth out of his eyes. A second step put Silas on his right, and he slammed a fist into his kidneys and another into the side of his head. The man fell to his knees in pain.

  Silas bent down and picked up the dagger. He didn't point it at the man. Instead, he slid it under his rope belt. "My apologies, but you've worn down my patience. Andreaus, go and get whatever coin you owe this King of Hearts. I'll wait here with our friend and pick out some suitable clothing for myself and my companion." He extended his hand to help the brute to his feet. "When he returns, we'll all go and visit the King together."

  Andreaus looked shocked, but he nodded and backed out of the shop.

  "Who are you?" the large man asked.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Wilem

  Wilem found Talia riding with Kelkin, Lawson, and General Clau at the front of the retinue. Clau was leaned over in the saddle, speaking quietly with the old Mediator, when he noticed Wilem's arrival.

  "Wilem, how are you feeling, son?"

  "Much better, General, thank you."

  Clau nodded. "There's no shame in falling ill. It happens to the best of us."

  Lawson snorted. "You've never been sick a day in your life."

  "I wasn't speaking about myself. Captain, the squad is yours. Wilem, if you will." He motioned for the Mediator to follow him to the side of the road. Once they were there, he dismounted.

  "Shouldn't we stay with the retinue, General?" Wilem asked.

  Clau waved his hand. "We'll catch up with them soon enough. I needed to speak to you, and the back of the supply wagon is too confining for me."

  "Yes, my Lord." Wilem joined him on the ground, and followed him as he led the horse further off the road. "If you don't mind... where are we, my Lord?" He looked around at the trees and brush lining this part of the Empire Road. So much of it looked the same, at times he found it hard to even know which direction they were headed in.

  "Still in Portnis, though we'll be crossing over into Varrow by dawn tomorrow. We have a hard ride ahead of us, son. Are you sure you're up for it."

  Wilem didn't hesitate. "Yes, my Lord. I'm well."

  Clau smiled. "Good. Tell me, Wilem, what did they say to you, when they assigned you to my command?"

  "Not much, General. Only that Kelkin was growing old, and would be nearing the end of his service soon. They said I would be taking over for him."

  The General didn't seem surprised. "That is part of it, but not all. I have a secret to tell you."

  Wilem felt his heart begin to race. What would the General want to tell him, of all people? "Yes, my Lord?"

  "We aren't out here to capture any Cursed."

  Wilem tried hard to swallow the sudden lump that lodged itself in his throat. "Are you saying..."

  Clau nodded. "I never expected to take any of the Cursed alive. In fact, even if they hadn't run, I had no intention of returning them to Edgewater. That isn't why we're out here."

  He managed to swallow at last, but it did nothing to calm the sudden chill he felt. "I don't understand. You have three Mediators with you. Why would you..." He trailed off, when he realized Clau's meaning. "The Liar?"

  Clau chuckled. "I suppose that's what the soldiers are calling him these days. I knew him by another name, a long time ago." He paused and rubbed his forehead with a gloved hand. "We were friends once, he and I. Did you know he was a General?"

  Wilem shook his head. He had heard a rumor that the Liar was a former soldier, not a General.

  "He was. The best of us, in fact. A hero for the Empire."

  "He killed the Overlord of Elling."

  "Yes, and my brother, Feng. I wish I could tell you why, Wilem. I wish I knew. Maybe it is the Cursed girl who they say never leaves his side. Could it be possible that she's enchanted him in some way?"

  "I've never heard of anything of the sort, my Lord. I have no such ability with enchantment."

  Clau seemed disappointed by that fact. "Kelkin said the same thing. I knew it was unlikely, but I was hopeful. You must understand, Wilem. The thing I am charged to do I take no pleasure in, but it is necessary to maintain the peace and order of the Empire. Despite the fact that we have regained control of Elling, our ears within the populace are reporting that whispers of rebellion grow louder with each day. These dissenters are doing their best to get organized while they wait to see where Talon turns up next."

  "And where is that?" Wilem asked. He understood now why the messenger had come, and what he had said.

  "Varrow. He fooled the guard into thinking he was trying to get in through a secret access gate meant only for soldiers, and used the opportunity to disappear inside the city. With over fifty-thousand people inside the walls, he will be difficult to locate."

  "My Lord, if you will, I think the more important question is... what is he doing there?"

  The General's expression changed, softening into... surprise? Respect? "How old are you again, Wilem?"

  Wilem smiled. He knew it could be difficult to tell with Mediators. "Sixteen, my Lord."

  Clau nodded and returned the smile. "He has not disappointed me. You'll make a fine replacement for Kelkin when the time comes. That is the exact question I've been asking myself, and one that I cannot yet answer. Whatever it is, we need to find him before he can carry out whatever plans he has. Now, since you seem to be astute, do you know what you are doing here?"

  Wilem did know, and the truth of it didn't scare him. In fact, it excited him. "His companion, Eryn. I'm meant to protect you from her."

  Clau laughed at that, and Wilem began to feel embarrassed for being too presumptuous. "You've come highly regarded, son, both for your talents and your intelligence. This Cursed girl he travels with is raw, but she has power, and as you know the only way to counter such power is to match it. I need you to match it."

  "I understand, General."

  The General's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, putting his face only inches away. "No, Wilem. I'm not sure that you do. What happened last night... We have no room for error, and no room for failure. Do you understand that, son? My blade is only as strong as your Curse, and believe me when I say that defeating Talon in combat is hardly a sure thing. I've brought three Mediators with me, and I need you to convince me it will be enough."

  Wilem could feel his face turning red, the heat of his shame rising up from his chest. His pride at figuring out their true mission dissipated in the face of his failure. "Yes, my Lord," he said. Whatever had happened to him, he needed to make sure it wouldn't happen again.

  "Good. Lawson, Talia and Kelkin have already been apprised of our orders. We'll be breaking from the rest of the retinue in order to make better time to Varrow. I've already had Talia pack a change of clothes for you in your saddlebags."

  "Change of clothes?" Wilem asked. He was proud to wear the black cloth and cloak of the Empire, with its embroidered red eye visible across the front.

  "The last thing we want is for Talon to know we're coming. We'll be going into Varrow as merchants,
not soldiers."

  Wilem understood the need. "Of course, my Lord. As you command."

  "One other thing, and I cannot stress this enough. Once we are inside the city walls, you will not use your power except under my direct order. Eryn will sense it, and she'll know you for what you are."

  First the clothes, and then his power. Wilem began to feel very exposed. "How shall I defend myself, my Lord, if the need arises?"

  Clau's hawkish eyes answered him before his lips. "You won't. Your life is less important than theirs. Do you understand?"

  Wilem's face went from hot to cold. He bowed his head. "As you command, my Lord."

  Clau moved alongside his destrier and climbed up into the saddle. Wilem followed his lead, hopping up onto Strider and maneuvering behind the General. They raced back to the others at a gallop, the stallion easily keeping pace with the larger warhorse.

  "My Lord," Lawson said when Clau reined in at the front of the line.

  "Are the stallions prepared?"

  "Yes, my Lord. Avoy went ahead with them in the night, along with our change of provisions. He'll ride back to the group once we're away."

  Wilem slowed alongside Talia, who glanced over at him and smirked. He wondered how long she had known of the General's true purpose for being here, and of his own assignment. How did she feel about being given such an important task simply because she was chosen to be his mentor?

  "Lawson, you have the command. You know what to do."

  "Yes, my Lord." Lawson bowed his head. "Good hunting, my Lord."

  Clau nodded sharply, and snapped the reins. "Ho, Epilon."

  The large white horse burst forward, leaving the rest of them to catch up.

  ###

  Avoy was waiting for them at the side of the road, standing at the front of a small supply carriage. Two more of their Portnis stallions stood behind the wagon, chewing lazily on the grass. He saluted the General with a hand to his heart when they appeared over a hill, and then immediately began the task of preparing them for their infiltration.

  "My Lord, everything is prepared as you ordered," he said.

  "Thank you Commander." Clau hopped off his destrier and handed the reins to Avoy. "Talia, if you would?" he motioned to the carriage.

  "Yes, my Lord," Talia said. She dismounted and climbed into the wagon, closing the door behind her. A few minutes later, she emerged without her blacks. Instead she wore a brightly colored yellow skirt and a red tunic, cinched at the waist with a length of golden rope. Her hair fell to her shoulders in waves, and left Wilem a little shocked. He'd never seen her so exposed.

  "Wilem, you're next."

  "Yes, my Lord." Wilem hopped off Strider and made his way into the carriage. Light filtered in through the space between the wooden planks and door frame, providing illumination while he found his change of clothes. It was already laid out for him; a simple brown shirt with a leather vest, a deep red pair of breeches and shiny black leather boots. He held them up to marvel at the richness, before quickly disrobing and slipping them on. He hated to lose his uniform, but he was in awe at the comfort and quality of the new clothes.

  Kelkin went next, and finally the General himself. He seemed reluctant to enter the wagon and remove his black ircidium armor, doing so with a heaving sigh and a glowering look. He emerged in an outfit similar to Wilem's, but with a normal blade strapped to his waist. Nobody but his soldiers would carry the iridescent alloy.

  "As of this moment, we are no longer soldiers in his army," Clau said. "We are merchants from Edgewater, come to Varrow to speculate on the cost of goods coming in from Elling, now that the uprising there has been put to rest. Mind yourself as though you were a common citizen, but remember our goal is to locate and contain Silas Morningstar and Eryn Albion by any means necessary."

  He looked at Talia and Wilem, his expression stern, his eyes darkening. "Do not take either of them lightly. They're responsible for the deaths of many of your fellows, and one of mine. Make no moves against them unless I give the order. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, my Lord."

  "Commander Avoy, wait here for the rest of the retinue, and then take them around Varrow on the Seafarer Road. Have Lawson ride into the city through the soldier's gate in the early morning, and wait in the barracks for commands. We may need to rally the rest of the troops in a hurry."

  Avoy put his hand to his heart. "Yes, my Lord."

  "The rest of you, mount up. We need to be inside the city gates by nightfall."

  Wilem climbed back onto Strider, his heart racing with excitement. He could only imagine how proud his father would be if he were the one to help kill Silas and silence his lies once and for all.

  "Thank you, Amman," he whispered as the General led them away from Avoy and the carriage. "I will make you proud."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Silas

  Silas was sitting on the steps outside of the Golden Thread when Andreaus returned. While he had waited, he had changed from Eagan's oversized rags into a maroon tunic, soft doeskin breeches, a deep green wool cloak and dark brown boots. They were the clothes of a merchant of middling wealth, and were perfect to fit in both the Heart and the surrounding areas without drawing attention. He also held another bundle of clothes under his arms - fresh undergarments and a knee length blue dress with half sleeves, paired with calf-high black leather boots for Eryn. It was modest, but open enough that she could fight in it if she had to.

  Silas hoped she'd never have to.

  There was no doubt in his mind that she had the energy, enthusiasm, strength, and aptitude for the sword. There was nothing to make him believe she wouldn't be able to cut or stab someone to death if it meant saving his life or her own, or helping them to end his reign. In fact, she had already killed with a blade.

  That was what worried him.

  She was young. Too young to have killed a man. Too young to have witnessed so much death and pain. He wasn't a fool. He knew that was the consequence to the war they had declared. Even so, he dreamed of a day when they could both put down their instruments and take up a plow, or a pen. Silas wanted to write down his memories, to ensure that he would never lose them again.

  Where are you, my love? Only in my dreams, and in my heart.

  He already knew that if they defeated him, if they survived, he would arrange for passage to the unknown lands. He would learn the fate of his wife. If she was alive, he would apologize. If she were dead, he would settle near her grave and eke out whatever kind of life he could in that place where no one ever returned. He would scribe everything he could remember, and then he would die.

  Only once Eryn is wed.

  No one would marry a Cursed in his Empire. If they discovered the cure, if they saved her from an early death, her future could be as peaceful as he wished his past had been. That was a dream worth fighting for.

  "Silas?" Ames put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, bringing him out of his thoughts.

  "What is it?"

  The big man pointed. "Andreaus is back. He has a girl with him."

  Silas had hoped Eryn would have stayed behind, but he wasn't surprised. The time had given her an opportunity to bathe, but the dress she wore was obviously not cut for her size.

  "Let's hope he has your boss' coin," he replied. He stood to greet them, as did the two members of the Bleeding Hearts. "Andreaus, do you have the coin? Ah, and I have some clothes for you, my dear. You smell a world better. This is Ames and his brother Lance. Shall we go inside? We're libel to draw soldiers standing out in the street."

  Ames led them back into the Golden Thread, with Lance bringing up the rear and taking position on the steps, a lookout for the Overlord's soldiers or spies.

  "Thank you," Eryn said, taking the boots and dress from Silas' arms. There was a smaller changing room in the back of the store, and she disappeared into it.

  "Wait a minute," Ames said. He looked at Silas, and then back at the changing room. "Tall, white hair, blue eyes. Young girl..."

&
nbsp; Silas had the knife on him before he could blink. "There is only one thing I care about, my friend. I know the Overlord is no friend of yours because of the circles you swim in. Even so, we cannot be too careful."

  Ames put his hands up and smiled. "I understand, my Lord. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you earlier. You don't need to worry about Lance and me. Or the King. He talks about you all of the time."

  Silas made the knife disappear and turned to Andreaus. "Where is the coin?"

  Andreaus frowned and knelt down, pulling a bit of paper from the rear of his boot. "This is a note from Patmos, the owner of Waverly's. He's agreed to loan me the coin that I owe to the King." He handed it to Ames, who looked it over.

  "You told him you had the coin," Silas said.

  Andreaus shrugged. "I lied, but I knew Patmos would help me if it meant helping you, and I still owe him, either in coin or in spirits."

  "Everything looks good," Ames said, folding the paper and tucking it away. "The King is going to be excited to meet you, my Lord."

  "Please, Ames. Call me Silas."

  "No, my Lord. I respect you too much."

  The door to the changing room opened, and Eryn stepped out. The dress was an excellent fit, and now that she was clean and fresh, Silas could tell she would grow into a true beauty.

  Like Alyssa had been.

  "Shall we go and speak to the King?" Silas asked.

  "Who's the King?" Eryn said.

  "I am." A middle-aged man appeared in the doorway to the changing room, right behind Eryn. She didn't hesitate, reacting to his sudden appearance by stepping backwards, bringing her boot down on his foot, and then spinning and throwing a fist at his jaw. He caught it and smiled, looking at Silas. "My apologies for sneaking in, but I was looking for my two thugs. It's been a long time, General." He shifted his gaze to Eryn. "Forgive my intrusion, and have no concern, I only listened."

  Silas' eyes fell on the man, and his mind fought to catch up.

  "Davin?" He put his hand to his head and closed his eyes. "Davin Embolt." He opened them again, staring at the man. "You're a long way from home."