David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 312
🕑 Added 2025-12-01 17:49:44 +0000 UTCChapter 312: Eastgate Court
Liv woke from a nightmare about her body flying apart, every inch of her puffing into a dozen snowflakes, each of which was caught by the wind and scattered across half a continent. She had tried to pull herself together, but it was like trying to scoop water from the river using only her hands, and the more she grasped, the less control she had.
She threw her blankets back in the pre-dawn darkness, swung her legs out, and rose from her bed to light one of the oil lamps mounted to the walls of the master bedroom in Acton House. This wasn’t the first time Liv had been woken by a bad dream; in the first weeks after her return from Varuna, and the council at the Hall of Ancestors, they’d come nearly every night. One thing she’d learned quickly was that there was no point trying to go back to sleep once she was up.
Instead, she pulled a robe on over her shift, walked out from her artificial zone of dense mana into her sitting room, and sat down at the desk. In the three days between Milisant’s attempt on her life - though really, it had been Ractia’s attempt; the late princess was only a tool - and the burning of the drovers’ guildhall, the council of regents had needed to put a good deal of time and effort into calming the city. The opening of the great council had, by necessity, been pushed back to this evening, and the first package of letters from Whitehill and Bald Peak had arrived for Liv - including Sidonie and Arjun’s initial report on the curse of House Kaulris.
They had, as Arjun had proposed, taken Mika, the new student from that house, up to the ring and had him thoroughly examined by the enchantments left there by the Vædim. The first thing they’d found was that his body was covered in a number of growths, most of which he kept concealed using his mask or robes, which had the appearance of tree-bark, coral, or even, in some cases, horns.
Liv’s friend had made an experiment of trimming the growths surgically, and while Mika was expected to take a week or so to recover from the procedure, Arjun was hopeful that it would at least alleviate the worst of his symptoms. That didn’t even begin to address the cause of what was happening, however.
He and Sidonie believed that a lingering mana-effect - which they were proposing to classify as a kind of persistent magic, of the same general category as Costia’s lingering curse on the well of bones - had somehow been tied to inheritance and reproduction. In other words, the magic did not affect an area, as was the case at the Well of Bones, but instead passed down from father and mother to child.
That lined up with what Elder Raija had believed, which was no surprise. After all, she and her House had had nearly twelve hundred years to study what was happening to them. How, exactly, magic could be made to follow a line of descent down over the generations, was a mystery that Sidonie hadn’t even begun to solve. Liv dipped a quill pen in ink and scratched herself a note - if she could break the curse on a single person, like Mika, she might eventually be able to gather every member of the house in one place, and eliminate the magic completely. If they could do that, the current members of the house could be healed like any other patients, and their children might never need treatment at all.
By the time Thora bustled in, the light of dawn was coming in the windows, painting the room in shades of orange, pink, and gold. Liv capped her jar of ink, set the quill aside, and closed her eyes so that her hair could be done. A few moments later, Miina arrived with two dresses for her to choose from, and the day had officially begun.
☙
“Harold’s wound is stable enough for him to travel,” Kaija reported, standing at the foot of the table at attention, despite one of her arms being in a sling. “We’re sending him by carriage back to Bald Peak, and we’ve sent word ahead so that Arjun knows to expect him. But without his leg, he can’t serve in the guard any longer.”
Liv set her fork down, took a sip of watered wine, and only then spoke. “He’ll draw his salary for the rest of his life,” she decided. “And I want that written into the rules for the guard. Anyone who needs to retire due to injury in battle will be provided for. Once Arjun says he’s recovered, I want to float the idea of him serving as an instructor, as well. We certainly need them.”
“I could use a man like that,” Keri said, from her side. He’d been waiting with Liv’s guards just outside her room that morning, just as he had every morning since she’d nearly been killed. Liv got the feeling he was afraid that if he let her out of his sight, she’d crumble away into snow once again, and be gone.
Kaija nodded to the woman at her side, who scribbled a note on the slate she was holding. “Tavia requested that her remains be sent back to her family. Would you be willing to preserve her body?”
“I’ve never actually cast that spell before,” Liv pointed out. “Though I’ve seen my grandmother do it, and I suppose it wouldn’t be my first archmage spell. Yes, I’ll do my best. I can’t make any guarantees, however. And I have a letter to go with her.”
“As do I,” Kaija admitted. “That leaves us down two guards, and to be honest, I’m not going to be ready for a fight until I’ve had a chance to recover. I’d like to suggest that we bring you back to Whitehill, and leave things here in the hands of our ambassador.”
Blaise stirred; he’d joined them every morning since the reception, and Liv had been impressed with how quickly he could shift from a charming facade to utter seriousness. “I wouldn’t recommend that. We need our queen to make at least one appearance at the council, if we want to press our advantage.”
“And you’ll get it,” Liv promised him. “So far as I’m aware, the council of regents still intends to let me speak this afternoon. Once I’ve done that, Blaise, I’ll leave further negotiations in your hands.” In truth, the idea of fleeing back to Whitehill was tempting. Liv wanted nothing more than to spend the winter in familiar places, with the people she loved - to soak herself in the springs beneath the castle, to enjoy her mother’s cooking, to walk on the frozen river at when the ice grew thick enough for a frost fair, among people she knew would never hurt her.
“We’ll go back to Whitehill tomorrow?” Miina asked, from her seat next to Blaise.
“No.” Liv shook her head. “To Coral Bay. Caspian’s agreed to a public test. It will also give us a chance to hammer out just what cooperation between the two colleges will look like, from here out. Lia Every will meet us there.”
“Can we go swimming while we’re there?” Rei asked. For the most part, he had occupied himself with the food on his plate, allowing the conversation of the adults to pass him by, but the prospect of doing something fun had perked his ears up.
“Possibly,” Keri said, but Liv couldn’t resist contradicting him.
“Absolutely,” she promised, leaning across the table and grinning. “I know the loneliest parts of the beach, from when I had to sneak off with Wren to practice. We’ll have a little cove all to ourselves.”
“What she doesn’t tell you is that we always did this practice in the pouring rain,” Wren grumbled. “To make certain we didn’t get caught. It was miserable.”
“Which brings me to the other reason we’re going,” Liv said, raising her eyes to where Ghveris loomed just behind Wren’s chair. “I don’t think there’s anyone I trust more to put your armor plating back into decent shape than Professor Norris.”
“There is no need,” the war-machine rumbled.
Liv raised her eyebrows, and turned to Rei. “I don’t know. How does Ghveris’s armor look to you, Rei?”
The boy turned around in his chair, glanced at the cracked and deformed chestplate, pauldrons, and skirting, and then looked up to meet the Antrian’s burning blue eyes. “Bad. Really bad.”
“There you have it,” Liv said. “Anyway, I’d be a pretty bad friend if I let you go into our next fight with broken armor. I’ll make my speech tonight, and then we’ll leave for Coral Bay in the morning – and we’ll stay there until you’re good as new.”
☙
“You weren’t allowed to attend the council when we were last in Freeport, were you?” Keri asked, from his place at Liv’s side. Their carriage rattled through the streets of the capital, surrounded by Liv’s remaining guards. On the opposite bench, Ambassador Blaise and Miina sat together; their spare carriage had already departed for Bald Peak and then Whitehill, carrying the man who’d lost his leg inside of the Seastone Tower.
“No.” Liv shook her head. “Henry and Julianne had only just made the offer to adopt me, and I hadn’t even accepted yet. Matthew went with them, but I wasn’t allowed. You were though, if I recall correctly. You gave a speech.”
“For all the good it did,” Keri grumbled. “I can only hope they listen to you more than they did to me.”
When the carriage arrived at Eastgate Court, they waited for Kaija and Wren to open the door. Keri stepped down first, dressed in a long coat of silk brocade in the Elden style, pure white with embroidery in brilliant blue thread. It complemented Liv’s own dress, and in fact the two pieces had been made weeks in advance particularly for this occasion.
Liv accepted his arm and stepped down out of the carriage. She paused there for a moment, as much to give the crowd of barons and their families a chance to look at her as to get her own first view of the building. It was all red brick and great glass windows to let in as much sunlight as possible, in the same style as the royal palace. Liv wouldn’t have been surprised if the same architect had designed both. Hopefully, her gown was much more striking.
Her underskirt was of deep blue, nearly black, as was her shift. The overskirt and bodice, as well of the sleeves, were of silver silk from Arjun’s homeland, specially ordered. They very nearly matched the stomacher of Elden steel, a piece of ornamental armor which, combined with the matching pauldrons secured to her shoulders, gave the overall impression that she was wearing an entire dress of armor. The stormwand which had belonged to Julianne hung at Liv’s waist, and the crown of Celris rested on her brow.
Her guards fell in around them as Liv and Keri made their way to the entrance, followed by her cousin and the ambassador. She had to fight the urge to look back and make certain that Miina was there, but if there’d been any problem, Wren and Kaija would have told her by now. Her guards fell in to either side, keeping the barons back and clearing the way. Ghveris had bristled at the command to stay back and protect Acton House, but Liv wouldn’t risk revealing just how hurt her friend was in such a public place.
Once they’d stepped into the building, they were met by a small coterie of waiting barons, along with their heirs. Liv recognized Cassandra Banks, standing next to a bow-legged man who must have been her father, Baron Castor. Gilbert Every had the same sharp features as his sister, and stepped forward to make introductions.
“Your Majesty, Lord Inkeris, Ambassador Blaise, and Lady Miina – it is comforting to see you all well, after the troubles of a few nights ago,” the baron began. “I believe you know Lady Cassandra.”
“Of course.” Liv smiled, and reached out her hand so that the other woman could offer a curtsy. “We had a class together at Coral Bay. It’s good to see you again, Cassie. And this is your father.”
Within only a few moments, they met Baron Ryder, as well as Baron Corbett, Sidonie’s father, and then the heads of both House Boyle and House Tryon. In short, all of the families which Milisant had attempted to pressure into supporting the war against Whitehill, and who had found excuses to absent themselves from the fighting.
“No washed out bridges on your journeys, I hope,” Liv teased, with a smile. The story had become somewhat infamous, and Blaise had made certain that she would know it.
“Not at all,” Baron Every assured her. “Please, let us show you to your box.”
“I have to admit, I’m curious which option they settled on,” Keri spoke up, as they followed. “Do we have Baron Henry’s old place, or the one that used to be reserved for Ambassador Sakari?”
“The second,” Sidonie’s father answered. “After some debate.”
They entertained the barons for a few moments while the assembled aristocracy of Lucania continued to make their way into the court, and before they each had to depart for their own places, Liv made certain to invite Cassandra to Coral Bay.
“What for?” the sun-tanned woman asked.
“You’ve already seen two archmage challenges in your life,” Liv told her. “You might as well not miss the third.”
But there was no more time to speak, for the council of regents took the place which had once been reserved for King Roland. Caspian Loredan carried the infant prince in his arms, though a nurse followed close behind, and at the sight of the air, a murmur rippled through the entire crowd.
“Most of the barons won’t have seen their next king yet,” Liv whispered to Keri. “That will be half the reason the regents put everything together the way they did.”
“He isn’t going to tell them, is he?” Keri asked, and Liv shook her head.
“In the name of our next king, Lucan of House Loredan, the council of regents hereby calls this great council to order,” Caspian shouted, his voice carrying to fill the hall. Liv thought that he didn’t carry it off quite as well as Jurian had, and she wondered whether the archmage missed her old teacher just as much as she did.
After passing the infant off to the nurse, who took him out of the chamber just as he woke up and began to cry, the archmage continued. “Before we discuss the ratification of peace terms, I call upon Duke Falkenrath to give this body a report of what occurred at the guildhall of the Merciful Society of Butchers and Drovers.”
Loredan went to take his seat, but before he could, a woman wearing the colors of House Sherard stood in her seat. “A guildhall burning isn’t important. We deserve to be told what happened at the Seastone Tower. Was it attacked? Is the crown princess safe?”
“Drusilla Sherard,” Blaise Crosbie murmured, leaning close to Keri and Liv so that they could hear him. “She ended up baroness after the priests got through questioning them all.”
Liv looked back to the archmage, and was once again struck by just how old and tired he looked. It occurred to her for the first time, as he climbed back to his feet, that it was quite possible he would not survive the regency.
“Milisant Loredan was permitted, for the benefit of our next king, to carry her child to term before being questioned,” Caspian said. “On the evening of her reception, at her request, I brought Queen Livara to the Seastone Tower, as my great-niece had refused to speak otherwise.”
Rumblings spread throughout the court-chamber, but the archmage continued. “At that time, Milisant admitted to performing blood sacrifices dedicated to the Lady of Blood. She then triggered a work of magic left by, so near as we can determine, Ractia herself, in an attempt to assassinate Livara tär Valtteri. The attempt was -” he hesitated for a long moment. “Unsuccessful. The princess did not survive.”
“What you mean is she killed my cousin!” Drusilla Sherard shouted, and other voices raised to shout her down.
“No,” Caspian said, but he was shouted down.
“Enough of this,” Keri said, and then stood up at Liv’s side.
She did her best not to smile when, a moment later, his voice echoed across the chamber, as easily as it carried his orders on a battlefield.
“I killed your cousin,” Keri shouted. “I scorched the horror that had been her body until it was nothing but a blackened, bloody smear on the ground. I sliced off tentacle after fleshy tentacle, which she screamed in pain at what Ractia had done to her. One of our queen’s guards died, and another lost her leg, before it was done, but I put your traitor-princess out of her misery. I only wish I could have done it sooner, before she took someone else with her, and before she suffered so much.”
“It’s murder,” Drusilla shrieked. “It’s an act of war.”
Liv stood at Keri’s side. “Yes, it was,” she called back. “It was an act of war. But not from Whitehill, or anyone in the alliance. It was an act of war committed by Ractia, the Lady of Blood, against not only me, but Lucania as well. She took your princess and twisted her into a weapon, a weapon to be used once and then thrown away. If you want to be angry, Baroness Drusilla, then direct your rage at the appropriate target: Ractia.”
She looked around the chamber, from face to face, in the silence that had fallen. “If there was a time to prevent this, it was eight years ago,” Liv said. “Eight years ago, when the man at my side stood in this very chamber and warned you what was coming. Perhaps if you’d listened then, she, and Isaac Grenfell, and thousands of other people would still be alive. But you didn’t. Now all you can do is pick up the pieces of your failure.”
Comments
Marcus Martin
I think she is attacking others to deflect blame for her and her house. Pretty, but understandable.
none listed
Tyftc
Daniel Golding
Drusilla can not be dumb enough to do this. Her entirely family is already under deep suspicion. The priests is waiting to burn the rest of them, I'm sure. I know that entire family is written as cartoonishly evil and stupid, but Drusilla has to have a shred of self-preservation. She's begging to be denounced here.
