I trust you as much as anyone alive, I thought quietly. “He told me to keep it a secret, Dorian. That wasn’t my choice.”
“He was an asshole too! Both of you!” The tears were streaming down his face now.
I hugged him. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”
Even angry, he hugged me back, though for a moment I thought he might break my back, and then he shoved me away. “I’ll get over this, but I’d rather not see you for a few days.”
Chapter 36
The ensuing months were placid and calm; a boring counterpoint to the terror of the gods’ attack on Castle Cameron. Marc’s death was followed, not with more challenges and obstacles, but with a lack of them, which only increased my anxiety and heightened my depression.
Losing my closest friend had deeply affected my mood, largely in ways that weren’t immediately obvious. After the intense grief of the first few weeks, I put it out of my mind as I attempted to focus on living and carrying on with life. The work on the World Road proceeded at an admirable pace, and after nearly a year the day had finally arrived when we would open the gates and connect the far flung corners of Lothion to one another.
I should have been happy, and I tried to appear so, as best I could, but my inner heart felt dead and cold. Penny had noticed my depression of course, despite my best efforts to act normally. She questioned me about it, and while I was honest about my grief initially, once the first month had passed, I began to excuse myself by citing anxiety over the whereabouts of the remaining two shining gods… and Mal’goroth. Let’s not forget Mal’goroth.
In truth, I had plenty of reasons to be anxious. The shiggreth had completely disappeared, though I felt certain they were not eradicated. The Knights of Stone had been decimated, and after the attack we had been left with only seven remaining. Dorian had done his best to find suitable replacements, but he was picky in his choices, and I fully supported him in that. I’d rather have been short-handed than give power to men I didn’t trust.
Dorian seemed to have gotten over his anger with me, but I still felt a faint coolness from him on occasion, and I knew it would take some time to completely heal the wound I had created in our friendship. We were both content at present to just get through each day and manage the tasks at hand. He had enough on his plate with the recent birth of his second child, little Carissa Thornbear.
In some ways it felt as though we were living under an executioner’s axe, constantly waiting for it to drop on our necks. Even so, I knew deep down that my illness wasn’t truly because of that. Marc was dead. While few realized how close we had been, to me he had been my closest family. Now the one person who knew me best was gone, and along with him went all the memories he alone had possessed.
Each of us has our own self-image, but what few realize, is that every person around us also possesses an image of us, no less real than our own. Every person close to us has a version of us in their hearts that no one else can replicate or replace. With Marc’s death, I had lost not only my dearest friend, but the image of myself that he had shown me in his own life.
Or you could simply be an over-sentimental, over-analytical fool, who merely makes things worse by constantly philosophizing and romanticizing everything to infinity! Life goes on, and so would you if you didn’t spend so much time gnawing at problems you can’t fix. Move on! The words came to me with Marc’s voice, as they often did these days. It said the things he would likely have told me, things that might have helped if he had been alive. Instead the memory of his voice brought tears to my eyes.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” asked Moira.
We were standing on a balcony overlooking the central yard within the keep that protected the World Road. The large gates on either side of the massive open area were open wide and crowds of people stood below, looking up at us. Two more gates within the yard were still closed, the ones that led down to the circular underground highway. King James was positioned in the center of the balcony, addressing the crowd. Penny and I were behind him, with Matthew and Moira on either side of us.
“It’s nothing, sweetheart,” I told her, “Daddy’s just happy.”
Penny glanced over at my words, and her eyes appraised me as I wiped away the tears. She knew better than to believe me. I have never been prone to crying when happy, and she was well aware of my depression, despite my claims otherwise. She stayed silent though, for every eye was directed toward us.
The King finished his speech and looked toward me, “Without further delay I present to you, Mordecai Illeniel, the Count di’Cameron, and our nation’s most ardent defender… the man responsible for the conception and creation of this marvelous edifice!”
Stepping forward I stood beside him and placed my hands on the stone rail. “People of Lothion,” I said, raising my voice, “long have I waited for this day, and at times I feared it would never come! Today we will open the gates and usher in a new era of prosperity. No longer will our traders and merchants need to devote weeks and months to long trips to carry goods from one end of this country to the other. No longer will farmers be forced to trek for days to reach the best markets. This dream, now a reality, will unite people from across our nation in a bond that transcends the distances which once kept us separate. It will transport goods from our ports and bring timbers from our forested lands. In essence it will form a vast artery connecting and transforming our land and our people with a new spirit of unity and optimism.”
Taking a breath I paused to look across the crowd, and the look of wonder on their faces almost overwhelmed my reason. Stick to what you prepared, I reminded myself, and so I opened my mouth to continue, “It is my hope that someday this road will connect not just the people of our fair country, but the people of every country. There are many places along this road yet unoccupied, places which, if our resolve is strong and our intentions are good, will someday be occupied with gates leading to every nation in this world. The fullest realization of my dream will be when the rest of the world, looking upon our strength and unity, accepts this offer and joins hands with us.”
At that point I stopped and waited upon James, who stepped forward again. “What do you think of the Count di Cameron’s dream?” he shouted to the crowd. Their response was a deafening roar, one that was nearly impossible to decipher until it began to resolve into a rhythmic chant, ‘Open the gates!’ they cried. James listened for a moment before speaking directly to me, “The people have spoken, Lord Cameron. Open the gates!”
Reaching into my robe, I withdrew the control rod, a device which was a twin of the rod installed at the center of the Traveler’s Pinnacle. The enchantment upon it ensured that whatever actions were taken upon this rod would be replicated upon the original, which actually controlled the gate enchantments themselves. The rod itself was steel, inset with a variety of multihued metal rings that encircled it from top to bottom. Each ring could be twisted from one position to another, which would then cause some action to take place. Many of the rings were set to control the activation of one of the portals, while others were set to open or close one of the many gates that guarded the World Road.
Twisting six rings in quick succession, I activated the portals that led to Verningham, Cantley, Turlington, Malvern, Lancaster, and Arundel. As I did, I felt a massive surge of power, the God-Stone, hidden and protected deep beneath the center of the fortress came to life, pouring aythar into the magical conduits that fed the portal and gate enchantments. There was no audible or visible sign of this, but my arcane senses were very aware of the vast movements of magic beneath us. Once the portals were activated, I turned two more rings, and the gates that would allow people to enter the roads leading down to the great circular World Road itself, opened.