“I, too, shared those feelings, Sire, for he killed my teacher and many of my contemporaries.”
“Go on, Sorcerer. What of Tristan?”
“We all had a part to play in his demise, Your Highness. Valyrie went with Vicar Jurgen to the consulship to attack his policies and find out where the vicars’ loyalties lay. Brice assisted the order knights in Azura with a number of tasks meant to help us, and Marac and I joined the militia.”
“What purpose did joining the militia serve?” the king asked.
“Several, Your Majesty. First and foremost, we wanted to be available if Jurgen and Valyrie needed help. Second, we used the position to learn of any strange happenings, and the information we discovered was invaluable.”
“What sort of information?”
“We discovered the presence of Zyvdredi assassins lurking the streets, and we found out Andolis’s true family name: Kivesh.” Laedron cleared his throat, the mere mention of the name sending chills down his skin. “The militia allowed us a unique vantage point from which to observe the city, and we ended up gaining an ally in Dalton Greathis, the militia commander, who aided us in restoring rightful rule to the country.”
“What happened afterward?”
“Afterward, Your Highness?”
The king clasped his hands together. “You were gone from Sorbia for nearly two weeks after that, according to Victor. What, pray tell, did you do during all that time?”
The question caught Laedron completely off guard. “I-” His mouth dried, and he searched for a suitable answer. Do I lie? What can I say? Think. Quickly! “We-”
The king sat patiently through the silence.
Finally, Laedron answered, “We traveled to Lasoron.”
“Lasoron? What did you do there?”
“I cannot say.”
Victor leaned toward Laedron. “Do not anger the king. Answer truthfully.”
“I did.”
“I mean, answer his question.”
“You know,” Xavier said, waving his hand at Victor, “there are things that a king must know to rule his country, things that he could never reveal to anyone. Just as this sorcerer knows nothing of the secrets I hold, I may never fully understand the workings of magic. I have one question for you, Sorcerer, which pertains to your dealings in Lasoron, and I expect an honest answer.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Of everything you witnessed whilst traveling in that land, did you come upon anything that would threaten our country?”
Laedron thought long and hard about the things that had happened, then responded, “No, Highness. I can think of nothing that would directly endanger Sorbia.”
“Good.” The king gestured at the other man who had entered with him. “Kelrick, bring the decree.”
Kelrick approached and unfurled a scroll. “By order of His Majesty King Xavier II, the knights responsible for the defeat of the persons commonly known as Andolis and Gustav Drakkar, enemies of the people of Sorbia and the Knights of the Shimmering Dawn, shall be granted the following rewards.”
Laedron raised his hand. “You need not give us anything, Your Highness. We’ve returned safe, and that is reward enough.”
“Do you mean to insult me, Sorcerer?”
“N-no, Sire.”
“Then accept the gifts.”
Laedron nodded, and the king motioned for Kelrick to proceed.
“For Victor Altruis, His Highness grants the right to reestablish a training academy to be known as the College of Mages for the pursuit of magical studies. Although it is customary for the Circle to choose such, he is also elevated to the status of Archmage until such a time as the Circle is capable of selecting its own.”
“For Marquis Meklan Draive, His Highness elevates his title to duke and names him Protector of the North.” I never even knew he was a titled noble, and he’s elevated to the highest rank in the land?
Meklan leaned forward. “Sire, is that not the position of your own brother?”
“Indeed, but he has been brought to the capital to aid me here. You shall pick up the banner and carry it forward.”
“As you desire, Highness.”
“For Laedron Telpist, Marac Reven, and Brice Warren, all shall be knighted and issued as true Knights of the Shimmering Dawn, their lands and titles to carry henceforth to their descendants, and they may demand the address of ‘Sir.’ By request of His Majesty, Laedron Telpist will, when asked, aid the Archmage of the College of Mages in reforming the Circle.”
“And Valyrie, Sire?” Laedron asked.
“It isn’t customary to grant titles to foreigners, but… young lady, do you swear an oath of fealty to me and Sorbia this day?”
She bowed her head. “I swear it. I have no intentions of returning to my former home, Your Grace.”
The king furrowed his brow.
Victor nearly spit out his wine. “Grace? Refer to him as ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Your Majesty,’ for he is the King of Sorbia.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness, for the way I addressed you. I meant no disrespect.” Blushing, Valyrie hid her face with a bow, and Laedron could only imagine how embarrassed she felt. He reached out, took her hand, and squeezed it.
“That’s how the Heraldans address the Grand Vicar, isn’t it?” the king asked.
“Yes, Sire,” Laedron said. “’Tis the highest address in the theocracy.”
“No harm done, and she shall be granted the same as you, Sorcerer,” King Xavier said, waving his hand. “Kelrick, add that to the decree.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Kelrick left through the hall by which he’d entered.
“I starve.” King Xavier stood, and so did everyone else. “Would you care to join me?”
Meklan nodded.
Victor smiled and said, “Certainly, Your Highness.”
“Might we be excused, Sire?” Laedron glanced at his friends. “If it’s all the same, we would prefer to return to our homes in Reven’s Landing. It’s been nearly a month since we’ve seen our families.”
“Who am I to hold you up?” the king asked. “Go, be with your families-Reven’s Landing, you say?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“How did you plan to get there?”
“By coach, I suppose.”
“Go to the docks on the north end of the city. There, you shall likely find a vessel to take you there.”
A boat, of course. That would cut our trip into a third. “Thank you for everything.” Laedron and his companions bowed deeply, and the king departed.
Before he left, Victor paused long enough to say, “I shall send word for you when we begin, Laedron, and I hope that it’ll be no more than a week.”
“So, that is that,” Marac said, then put on a thick, pompous accent. “Would you care to set sail now, Sir Laedron Telpist?”
Brice waved his hands and spoke in a similar, comical tone. “But, Sir Marac Reven, we could visit the city. Perhaps Dame Valyrie Pembry would like to see the town.”
Laedron laughed. “No, Sirs Brice and Marac, I think that we’ll return to Reven’s Landing posthaste, to be reunited with our loved ones.”
“We shall accompany you, Sir Laedron and Dame Valyrie.” Brice proceeded through the halls, his hands grasping his lapels, his swagger exaggerated and arrogant, and his nose stuck high in the air.
Not wanting to draw any ire upon himself, Laedron kept his distance from Brice as he followed, but stern glares from the stewards and guards near the main exit seemed to make Brice act normal again. Outside the palace, they turned left, and at the end of the boulevard, Laedron asked around to find a small ship headed north.
He convinced a captain at the end of the row who hadn’t actually planned on stopping in Reven’s Landing to do so, a favor for which he handed over a gold sovereign. We’ll probably be home in a matter of hours.