As if a piece of paper will change my mind, he thought, sighing. He read the letter:
Victor Altruis, Master Sorcerer of the Knights of the Shimmering Dawn,
It has come to our attention that one under your charge, Laedron Telpist, and his party had been dispatched with a mission to the Heraldan Theocracy. We have been made aware that his efforts have stopped a plot to plunge the entire world into conflict, a plot set in motion by Zyvdredi masters. If you should be in contact with Master Telpist or his companions, you are ordered henceforth and without delay to bring them to us in the city of Morcaine.
Kelrick Ambriset, Chamberlain to His Majesty King Xavier II of Sorbia
Laedron’s hand dropped to his side, the paper still crinkling between his fingertips. “What do they want with us?”
“The letter doesn’t say, but I can only imagine that they want to speak to you and reward you for all that you’ve done. ‘Tis a mandate from the king, and as loyal subjects, we must heed his call.”
“It would seem that I have little choice in the matter. When do we leave?”
“Little choice? Of all the people I’ve ever met, you seem to care the least about being praised for what you’ve accomplished.”
Laedron returned the letter. “I did none of it for rewards or praise. When I fought Gustav, I did it for revenge, to bring death to my teacher’s killer. It was by happenstance that our goals aligned, Master Altruis, and when I saw the light leave his eyes, praise and reward were the last things on my mind.
“Our work done, we convinced Vicar Jurgen to take us to Azura, to aid us in defeating Andolis and bringing about peace. We did that to save lives and to right wrongs, not with hopes of receiving piles of gold, lands, or titles. So when you say that we should be rewarded, I can’t help but think that we deserve nothing.”
“I know how you must feel, Laedron.”
“Do you? Can you?”
Victor smiled. “I haven’t always been locked away behind a desk.”
“I’m sorry if you’ve felt any disrespect from my words, but I yearn to see my family, as do my friends, and it’s disheartening to know that, yet again, something stands in the way of that.”
“A few days. Morcaine isn’t far, and I’ll do everything in my power to hasten the trip for you. Would that help?”
“Like I said, it would seem I have little choice. We cannot disobey the king.”
Victor patted Laedron on the shoulder. “Stay with us tonight, and we’ll leave early tomorrow morning.”
“No.” Laedron waved his hand. “We have already arranged lodgings in the city.”
Receiving an awkward stare from Valyrie, Laedron shook his head at her just enough to get the message across.
Victor said, “Very well, but the invitation remains open should you change your mind. Return here at dawn, and we’ll depart.”
Laedron nodded, opened the door, and exited with Valyrie. “We’ll need to find Marac and Brice. This way.”
“Lodgings, Lae? We’ve made no such arrangements.”
“I know a place. Marac and Brice can stay here, but I want to visit my teacher’s former home and show it you, if you’d like.”
“Certainly, Lae. I’d like that very much, actually.”
Laedron nodded, then led her back to the grand entry hall and off to the west wing. “I’ve rarely visited this side of the keep.”
“Didn’t like it over here?”
“I wasn’t allowed very often. They preferred to keep the sorcerers separate from the knights during training.”
“Strange. You would think they’d train you together.”
“They trained the knights as a group, but sorcerers would benefit little from instruction in martial combat. Magic is our sword and shield.”
He turned at the last corridor, then noticed Marac and Brice in a side hall, talking to Meklan Draive. Laedron waited until they noticed him, gestured, and they came over to him. “You two stay here for the night, and we’ll join you in the morning.”
Marac, sounding eager, asked, “Did Victor tell you about-”
“He did.” Laedron sighed, lowering his chin and staring at his shoes. “We’ve been instructed to see the king.”
“Well, don’t get too excited about it, Lae,” Brice said, furrowing his brow. “When I heard the news, I thought you would be happy to finally be recognized for a job well-done.”
“I don’t need to be extolled for anything, and I’d rather just go home. If memory serves, we did what we had to do. We survived and helped who we could, nothing more.”
“Yes, yes, but to visit the king? The palace? To be requested, no less? A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“Opportunity?” Marac raised his eyebrows. “Don’t read too much into it, Thimble.”
“We’ll meet you on the morrow at dawn.” Laedron turned toward the exit.
“What will you do? Where will you go?”
“Ismerelda’s. I want to see her home one last time.”
* * *
He walked through the streets with Valyrie as if his feet knew the way. Reaching the alley that fronted Ismerelda’s home, he stopped and took a deep breath, recalling the time he’d gone to the market and nearly been robbed. What would I do with a thief now? With the flick of my wrist, I could end his life or immobilize him and give him over to the guard. Have I lost my sense of fear or merely gained confidence in my own abilities?
“Are you all right, Lae?”
He peered at the placard-the golden moon and stars-and the wrought iron gate, then looked past them at the squalid yard. Tavingras was right, he thought, taking himself back to the first time he’d seen Ismerelda’s house. Those holes where trees once stood, that grass that seemed like it refused to grow. She had used up the essence of it, an Uxidin sorceress trying to survive.
“Lae?”
He took a deep breath. “My memories came rushing back to me. Here, let’s go inside.” Unlatching the gate, he stepped past it, then approached the front door. He tried the handle, but it was locked.
“Do you have a key?”
He shook his head, then took a look around the porch. That’s odd. He walked over to a pot filled with soil, but he could find no trace of a plant or seeds. Moving it aside, he spotted a brass key that must have been there for quite some time because, from bit to bow, it was solid black from tarnish. Though difficult to turn, the key unlocked the front door.
It didn’t take long for the spiders to find their way in. Cobwebs coated the paintings and furniture, and the webs and dim light made it difficult to make out the mural painted on the parlor ceiling.
“What is that?” Valyrie asked, pointing upward.
“A depiction of the Great War. Azura at Azuroth, the final battle between the Uxidin and the Necromancer, Vrolosh.” He blew on the shelves to clear away the cobwebs and a layer of dust. “Everything’s exactly the way she left it.”
“It’s small, but I can see how it could be a comfortable home.” She followed him to the common room, then through the hall to the kitchen. “It was just the two of you?”
“She only took on one apprentice at a time, which is the usual way when privately tutoring a student.” He gazed at the stove and noticed the pan in which Ismerelda had prepared the quiche. “Would you like to see the room where we trained?”
She nodded, and he led her downstairs to the basement. The ashes of the training dummy he’d shot still littered the floor, along with the one Ismerelda had split in two. He could almost see his teacher seated at the larger of the two desks. He smiled. “I would like to share something with you.”
“Yes?”
“I will show you what has passed here, and though I could make an illusion, I want you to truly experience it. Do not be afraid.”
He pulled out his scepter and focused on his last memory training in that cellar. Then, he conjured his captivation spell. Valyrie spun around when the spell came into being, the manifestation of his memory clearly taking hold of her mind.