Tests of Blood - 8. Chapter 8

“When the nobles wage war, it is the commoners that pay the price in blood!” The speaker exclaimed, keeping the rapt attention of the crowd that had been listening to him for the last half-mark. Dalen had been there since the beginning, towards the back of the square, dressed in a faded pair of corduroy pants and an old shirt of a faded red color. Quinn had come into his office an hour ago, with these clothes in hand and pushed them towards him.

“Gramma said you’re to put these on and go down to Orator’s Square.” Quinn had said in a no-nonsense tone. Since Quinn was already supposed to have been in school, it was a surprise seeing him there, but not that big of a surprise after he’d explained a bit. His cousin Beatrice crossed through Orator’s square every morning on her way to work at one of the vegetable processing plants in town. She would have seen the speaker who was now speaking to the crowds that gathered for the early lunch shift.

“When the nobles get bored and tired, they always find some way to make us bleed for them, and when we get tired of them, it seems like they always find a convenient excuse for a war to take our minds off of them and their greed!” The Speaker continued. He’d never given a name, just called himself Speaker for the Common Man, and was dressed in attire that would not look out of place in most streets. It wasn’t particularly clean, but neither was it really dirty. It was worn, just like the clothes Dalen was now wearing and the clothes of most people on the street.

“We didn’t start this war!” One of the people in this crowd challenged the Speaker who paused in his speech to stare at the woman who shouted at him. “The Black Kings attacked our allies!”

“Yes, the Black Kings, who have not attacked anyone in millennia.” The Speaker’s voice was filled with scorn for the woman, and Dalen felt the barest trace of a Gift working over the crowd. “How were they provoked into the attack, I ask you? What nefarious plot of the nobles, or maybe the Heralds caused the Black Kings to attack? We may never know!”

“The Heralds would never do something like that!” The same woman exclaimed, but even her voice held a bit of doubt to it as the Gift continued to work on the crowd, Bardic Gift, Dalen identified it after a moment of analysis.

“Wouldn’t they?” The Speaker asked. “Think about it for a moment my dear lady. They say Heralds are from all the people of Valdemar, but there are always nobles in most of the leadership positions in the Heraldic circle. You’ve been fooled into thinking the Heralds are commoners just like us when they’re really mostly nobles doing the bidding of other nobles. Sure, every now and then they send out a Companion to pick some charity case, but those are the first ones always sent into dangerous situations!”

“That isn’t what the priests say!” Another man in the crowd shouted, but his voice was too fervent and Dalen guessed he was a planted agent. “They say the Companions are god-touched spirits sent to keep their Heralds honest and trustworthy!”

“Which Gods sent them and what else do the gods tell their Companions to force their Heralds to do?” The Speaker asked and Dalen noticed a pattern. He didn’t actually say anything, phrasing everything as a question and then using his very weak Bardic Gift to push these people in the direction he wanted them to go. As a Mage and a member of the Royal Family, he had the power to arrest the man here and now, except he couldn’t prove the man was consciously using his gift without Truth Spell. Any Herald could cast the spell and as a mage, he could too. It was easy to summon a Vrondi, an air elemental from the Abyssal Plain, but he knew how poorly Valdemarans reacted to Truth Spell performed by anyone but a Herald. “What God’s agenda do the Heralds answer to through their Companions?”

“I’ve heard enough.” Dalen said to Quinn who had come up next to him as the man continued to speak.

“We wouldn’t be Valdemar without the Heralds!” The same man in the crowd who had spoken aloud called out. “The King is always a Herald!”

“Why is that again?” The Speaker asked. “I don’t mean the story they all tell you in the Crown schools, but the real reason? I don’t know the full answer either, but I’ve spoken to a member of the Royal Family and you should hear her talk. One day you might be able to, but I will tell you what she told me. If you’re a member of the Royal Family and too strong willed for a Companion to keep control of, they exile you. That’s what happened to her, she was sent out into the backwoods of the country for years and years and now has been sent again. They’ve even sent her son into exile because he refused to be Chosen by a Companion. That’s the real reason Prince Dalen is here, after all.”

“He supports you, then?” The first woman asked. “I’ve heard nothing but good of him since he arrived here.”

“Did you hear how he stopped his Welcoming Party to help us get Old Baudry to the Healing Halls?” Another man in the crowd shouted out and Dalen almost blushed at the reminder of the event six days ago. Baudry had been severely wounded in an accident at a processing plant, severing his arm. The local Healer’s Hall couldn’t help him, but Dalen knew the Healers at Haven could reattach the limb if the patient got there fast enough.

Dalen was strong enough to make a Gate back to Haven, even though he was technically not supposed to be able to do it yet. Burnham had one strong node and two weak nodes though, and since he was not going through the gate he was able to replenish his reserves after the spell was completed. The Companions in the Grove had been startled when the gate appeared, but had quickly brought a litter from the stables, along with their Heralds who had helped get Baudry to the healers in time. Word had already come back that he would regain the use of the arm, eventually.

“Do you see?” The Speaker asked. “When a member of the Royal Family does care about the people, they aren’t Chosen by Companions. They are exiled!”

“How dare he?” Dalen exclaimed under his breath even as three somewhat familiar figures entered the edge of the crowd. What timing had brought Herald Landir and his two trainees into this particular square on this day, when they weren’t supposed to be here in town for another three days, Dalen didn’t know. Angry murmurs grew in the crowd as the Herald and his Companion began picking their way through the crowd.

“What is going on here?” Herald Landir asked in a quiet tone.

“I am speaking, as is my right in the Orator’s Square.” The Speaker replied with dignity and there was a subtle shift in the tone of his gift. Dalen could feel it impacting him, and was not surprised at the murmurs of anger in the crowd. He turned to look at Quinn to see if he was affected and was surprised to see the red-head shaking his head as if trying to shake it off. With a thought, Dalen extended a shield around Quinn that was invisible to the normal eye and would protect him from the weak Bardic Gift. “Would you stop me, Herald?”

“No, you are only exercising your own rights.” Herald Landir said as Paet and Junie, the female Herald Trainee with them took up positions behind and on either side of their Herald. “What I would stop is you using that Gift of yours to rile up this crowd.”

“What are you talking about?” The Speaker asked angrily and the crowd shifted as the hold on them from the gift grew slightly. Dalen noticed it was stronger now and narrowed his eyes while linking directly with the strongest node below him. He knew things were about to get ugly. “How typical, a Herald accuses a normal person of sorcery just because they speak against Heralds. Is that how you keep us under your thumbs?”

“I…” Landir started to say but stopped as he had to duck a thrown rock that barely missed his head. There was a surge in the crowd, towards the Herald and his Trainees, who were starting to back up now.

“HOLD!” Dalen’s voice wasn’t a shout. It was a small magic spell that amplified it so that it washed over the crowd in a wave. The blazing ball of pure silver mage-light that he set over his head cast the noon-day light into odd shadows, effectively drawing all eyes to him.

“Look!” The Speaker’s voice was ragged, almost desperate. “A Herald-Mage in disguise!”

“I am no Herald-Mage, as you yourself just pointed out a few moments ago.” Dalen said with his voice still booming over the crowd. “I am Dalen Valdemar Ashkevron, Master-Mage of Burnham. I believe you were just talking about me?”

“I…” The man faltered, not quite certain how to proceed. Dalen cut him off with a sharp slash of his hand through the air. The gesture was more than just for the man’s silence as he wrapped the man in invisible magic bonds and a shield that cut his gift off from affecting more people.

“You have done enough harm here today, good sir.” Dalen’s voice was rough, although he lessened the volume of the spell so that it no longer boomed over the crowd. Instead it was just loud enough for the shifting crowd to hear him clearly. “Your poisonous words stand just on this side of open treason, and you mischaracterize many things about myself and my mother, much less the King and these good Heralds here who I count among my best of friends.”

“You are just…” The Speaker started to sputter but his voice was cut off, this time by a knife sticking out of his chest.

“There!” Paet shouted, pointing at the man who had repeatedly spoken up during the speeches and who was now running away. Herald-Trainee Paet was doing more than just pointing though as he scrunched up his face. The man disappeared from where he was running and appeared at the feet of Paet’s Companion, who promptly clamped down with her teeth in the back of the man’s clothing, holding him in place. It was no more than a moment before the man’s face went slack and he collapsed in his spot.

Dalen was just verifying that the Speaker was indeed dead from the very well-thrown knife when Landir’s voice announced the other man was dead as well. With a sigh, Dalen got to his feet and went over to where the Herald and his two trainees were bending over the man. They stepped aside for Dalen who cast three spells very quickly. The first confirmed the man was dead, and that he had died by a magic suicide trigger. The other two failed though, not providing him with any information beyond a hazy magical signature.

“Damn.” Dalen muttered, forgetting for the moment that his voice was still being amplified. “Whoever set the death trigger in him was good.”

“What’s a death trigger?” Paet asked and his voice was close enough to be amplified as well.

“It’s something often used with trained assassins.” Dalen explained, realizing that the crowd would hear all of this, but he realized that was perhaps for the best. There were gasps from the crowd at his words. “I don’t know how much you three saw, but I was here for most of the speech. They had at least one agent in the crowd, this man, feeding the anger and misdirection, supporting the speaker’s position while seeming to be a normal person. Very tricky, and then of course this man was also set so that he would kill the Speaker if it looked like a legitimate authority was about to capture him.”

“That man on stage was using some type of Gift on the crowd.” Landir stated flatly.

“Yes, it was Bardic Gift.” Dalen agreed. “I imagine if we send the man’s likeness to Bardic Collegium we’ll find he’s a failed Bard who was cast out. His gift wasn’t all that strong, but it was enough to sway people’s feelings in the direction he wanted, and he was quite skilled at what he did.”

“Ah, the Watch is here, Dalen.” Herald Landir said as he noticed some new mounted figures arriving. “I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to stay here while we take care of all the necessary paperwork.”

“That will be fine.” Dalen said as he cancelled the amplification spell and stood back up, looking out over the crowd. The woman who had repeatedly challenged the Speaker was near the front, looking quite nervous.

“What is your name, madame?” Dalen asked as he crossed over to stand in front of her while the Herald conferred with the Watch Officer. He noticed quite a few people murmuring as he approached her.

“I am Jaina Llewellyn, my lord.” She said along with a clumsy curtsey. That was when Dalen noticed Quinn was at his shoulder again.

“I was glad to hear your words earlier.” Dalen said in a firm voice. “You had the right of things, in my opinion.”

“Thank you, my lord.” The woman said with another curtsey.

“If I remember the custom rightly, here in Orator’s Square, anyone may speak their mind on issues of the day.” Dalen said in a louder voice, but this time not amplifying it so that the crowd had to lean in so they could hear him clearly.

“That’s the custom.” One older man growled and then grimaced at the body still on the stage with the knife sticking out of it. “Don’t know if it should go much past today. I feel dirty, used.”

“I hope not, good sir.” Dalen said directly to the man. “One of Valdemar’s greatest strengths has always been the openness of the government and the ability of the people to influence it, even from places like here. The Crown and Council do listen to the people, and it is places like this that make sure if they do not, then the people can make their view known to one and all. These men tried to misuse it, and that is all.”

“Do they?” A younger man in the crowd asked. “Do they really listen? I mean, most of the people on the Council are either Heralds, Nobles, or Guilders. Do they listen to the common people at all?”

“They listen.” Dalen assured the man with a nod. “Maybe some of them don’t listen quite as well as one would want, but they do listen. If you think your representative isn’t, then all you have to do is go to any King’s man, whether it be a Magistrate, a Guard Officer, or a Herald and tell them what you think is going wrong.”

“Like a Herald would listen to me.” The man snorted.

“I think you cheapen yourself and the Heralds with your words, sir.” Dalen said with a slightly raised pitch. “Has a Herald ever said anything that would make you think they would not listen to you?”

“I’ve never spoken to a Herald.” The man said with a half-crazy laugh.

“Why not?” Dalen asked. “Have you never seen one?”

“I’ve seen them.” The man shrugged.

“You just didn’t want to bother them, right?” Dalen asked.

“I just thought they’d have ignored me.” The man said with a shrug. “It’s not like I’m anyone important.”

“If you have an opinion strong enough you want it to be heard, a Herald will listen, as will any representative of the King.” Dalen said again. “That includes me. You all know where to find me while I’m here in Burnham. I know most of you should be able to read and write as well. It is the law for all of us to achieve at least that much education in the Crown schools or elsewhere. If you don’t want to visit me in person, you can always write a letter, or if you wish, you can write a letter to the King himself. We do read them. The gods themselves know we don’t hear enough from the regular people.”

“I might do that, write a letter.” The younger man said and Dalen nodded to him just as the Watch Officer came to him, bowing before politely asking for Dalen to come with him. They went apart a little ways and the Officer, a rather young one just a few years older than Dalen, began to take copious notes as Dalen gave him the details of all he had seen and heard that day.

“Thank you, milord.” The man said with a nod of his head. “It really is an open and shut case with the Herald here and seeing most of it, and with your words, I’m sure the Magistrate won’t have a problem with anything. You can leave now if you wish.”

“Thank you, Officer.” Dalen said with a nod of approval for the man before he turned and left the square with Quinn at his heels.

“That was a little more than we were expecting.” Quinn said breathlessly, speaking for the first time since they’d left the vale grounds. “Gramma knew you should probably hear what the man was a sayin’, but we didn’t think there’d be…”

“As soon as we get back I want you to get all of your family together.” Dalen commanded in a no-nonsense tone. “I will be writing a letter to the Watch Commander. When both bodies have been removed to the mausoleum, I will want to spend a few hours with them, preferably after dark. It should make the spells I need to cast a bit easier. I am not satisfied we have even a tenth of the answers we need.”

“Yes, sir.” Quinn assented right away.

“Next, send one of your uncles to find those Heralds and get them to come to the Vale as soon as they can.” Dalen continued after thinking for a moment. “I need to know how they came to be here today and in that square of all places at that moment. It being just random chance is really difficult to accept. Then I want another of your uncles to find out all you can about Jaina Llewellyn. Find out if there are any bonded mercs in town. If there are, I want to hire a couple of them to discreetly guard her house for the next month or so.”

“Why?” Quinn asked him.

“I think that someone may not be happy with her actions today, standing up for Heralds and the status quo in Valdemar.” Dalen explained as the outer edges of the vale parklands became visible. “Oh, and I’ll pay the mercs out of personal funds, not Crown funds.”

“Got that.” Quinn said with a nod of his head. His memory was excellent Dalen knew by now and so he trusted it implicitly.

It was odd thinking in terms of his personal funds. Before he came down here, there had been no personal funds for him beyond the annual stipend he got as a member of the Royal Family. As a child his parents had always paid for his things, and of course Grandfather Ashkevron had pitched in quite a hefty trust fund when he became an adult. In the weeks since he’d arrived in Burnham though, he’d begun to actually earn money on his own as a mage.

All of his major activities as a mage here resulted in some type of revenue for him. Some of the spell-casting, such as the weather-working was paid by the crown and local Council. Half went into ‘operating’ costs for the Vale and the salaries of Quinn and his family, Liandra included. The other half went into his personal funds. Since the first set of tasks he’d performed included the recharging of magical tools used in various production facilities around town, he’d added to his personal accounts a great deal of gold right away.

Then there had been the emergency repairs to the Eastern road used by most of the Holderkin folks to bring in their goods. That had been four nights of spellcasting to repair damaged flagstones using a combination of magic and fetching to put them in place. Just last night he’d helped a new development of homes on the southwestern end of Burnham bring deep groundwater closer to the surface so that it could be used in a shared piping system between the fifty new homes that were being built.

That last deal was a little odd in that the homeowners were forming a private association that would pay back the construction costs to the banks over a period of twenty years. From what he understood, the banks involved were charging a low interest rate for the loans, but would make a great deal of money over the twenty years of the loan. It was one of the newest business trends in Valdemar, something he remembered hearing the King mention one time, but wasn’t too sure of the details of how it worked.

“There are all sorts of rumors about town regarding what happened.” Liandra said to them as they walked in the doorway of the inner Vale.

“Quinn will explain everything, and my instructions.” Dalen said peremptorily and headed to his office before she could stop him. It was the only way he’d be able to get started on the letters he needed to write. He was almost tempted to use a Teleson, but it wasn’t quite that urgent of a situation.

“Ah, there you are.” Herald Landir said as Dalen entered the room just off of the kitchen that Liandra used as an office. She was glaring at the Herald, but smiled at Dalen before taking the letters that he had written. Without saying a word she left the office in a rush.

“I was hoping you would get my message that I wished to speak with you, Herald Landir.” Dalen said before the Herald could say more. It was just the Herald too, neither of the Trainees were with him. “Why don’t we go to my office and talk?”

“I think that would be wise.” Landir said flatly. He waited for Dalen to lead the way and began speaking before Dalen could once they were walking. “I met your man looking for me because I needed to speak with you as well. What was it that you were wanting?”

“I will be investigating today’s events.” Dalen said in a no-nonsense manner. “I am worried that today’s events bear too much of a resemblance to what happened out west and if they are related, I want to discover what is really going on here.”

“With all due respect to your highness’s abilities, you are not the right person to be performing this investigation.” Landir said as they reached Dalen’s office. For his part, Dalen didn’t react right away. Rather, he led the Herald into his office, offered him a seat, and then took his own chair behind his oak desk.

“I disagree.” Dalen said firmly. “You obviously do not have time, and the Heralds renounced the investigation into the events involving my mother out west.”

“It is being investigated.” Landir said through clenched teeth. “His Majesty ordered a secret investigation into that matter, and I imagine there will be a Herald through here before too long to look into this event and see how they are connected.”

“I won’t ask why I wasn’t told before.” Dalen said after a moment of surprised pause. No, this investigation was supposed to be ‘secret’, so he wouldn’t know about it just because he was a member of the Royal Family. “But, why tell me now?”

“Because if we didn’t, you would be conducting your own investigation and might scare off our targets.” Landir said with a shrug. “His Majesty, and the entire Heraldic Circle, trusts you and after today I agree with them totally. You are not involved in any way directly with this group we’re investigating. This is not the first time they have done this, and what I would like to know is how they work these crowds up just in time for a Herald to be coming through. The previous incident, I could understand because the Herald had overnighted at a Waystation the night before and they could guess when the Herald would be arriving. This time though, we rode all through the night to get here and there shouldn’t have been any way for them to know.”

“That is assuming they knew you were coming.” Dalen pointed out.

“C’mon your highness.” Landir said with a sigh. “The timing was too perfect. He had to know within at least a quarter hour when we were coming through.”

“That fellow was gifted.” Dalen said slowly. “It would stand to reason they might have someone in their ranks with the gift of Foresight.”

“There is that possibility.” Landir said but then shook his head. “That is not our concern for the moment though. I will forward our discussion on to the Herald doing the investigation. As it is, we rode hard through the night to reach you today.”

“What is wrong?” Dalen asked immediately, sitting up more sharply in his chair. Whatever drove a Herald to go to this much effort had to be important.

“I have seen some signs of magic being used near the border with Menmillith and need a mage to confirm what I am sensing.” Landir said quickly. “You are the closest mage, and I heard about your helping that injured man by creating a Gate. You can gate us to the area.”

“I do have responsibilities here, and gating requires that I know the destination.” Dalen pointed out.

“In training, they talked about how an Adept can take a location from the mind of a Herald with Mindspeech.” Landir pointed out.

“I am familiar with the concept, but have never done that, not even in training.” Dalen said with a shrug. “Technically I’m not even supposed to be making Gates.”

“Were you reprimanded for the gate you made?” Landir asked and Dalen sighed.

“No.” He admitted along with the implications. “Look, I am not just stalling because I do not want to go out into the field. The truth is that I do have responsibilities here, to these people and I will have to rearrange a lot of schedules to do this. Also, I am not really an Adept yet. As much as I might like to think I am, I don’t have the control or experience of an Adept. Any Gate I create could be dangerous and go rogue. It is not something I should do lightly.”

“I am not asking it of you.” Landir stated. “It is my belief we need to get you there as quickly as possible. After that, you can ride your horse back to town or gate, whichever you choose. On a regular horse it’ll take you three days at least to get back.”

“I’ll make that decision when the time comes.” Dalen said with a sigh. “When do we leave and who is going?”

“I need to get two squads of irregulars from the Guard Company stationed here.” Landir said with a sigh of relief. “It’ll take them most of the rest of the day to get ready, so I recommend we leave early in the morning around dawn.”

“Troops?” Dalen asked with alarm. “Why are you taking troops?”

“There has been another raid, and the squad that is down there is stretched too thin for my preferences.” Landir stated flatly. “This time two farms were all but razed to the ground, and their crops appear to have been taken. We found wagon trails heading down south, but they disappeared as soon as they got to the border and we didn’t dare cross the border for more than half a league for fear of being caught. We couldn’t pick up the trail again.”

“Magic would do that.” Dalen said with a nod of his head. “That is why you need me.”

“Yes.” Landir agreed. “Herald Dellinar told me you were trained for these types of spells as well.”

“Yes, although I’ve never used them in real-world situations.” Dalen noted. “Still, I think Companions would be better at hidden trails than most people.”

“Yes, they are.” Landir agreed with a tight grin. “I know you ride from when the King introduced us during that ride through the Field. Do you have a suitable mount down here?”

“Is my name Ashkevron?” Dalen asked with a laugh. “Grandfather Ashkevron wouldn’t dare let me leave Forst Reach without a suitable mount and I brought him with me from Haven. I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to give him much exercise since we arrived down here, but I exercised him regularly in Haven after that first ride with the King.”

“Good, if he’s Ashkevron bred he’ll be sturdy enough.” Landir said with approval in his voice. That was a given considering that Ashkevrons had supplied the Guard with most of their cavalry mounts for the last two centuries and still did. The day would come eventually when cavalry was nothing but showpieces, and Forst Reach would be prepared for that day, but the Guard still needed horses and so Ashkevrons still provided the best bred and best trained horses in the Kingdom. Only the Shin’a’in could compete with them and there were enough cross-breeds between Ashkevron and Shin’a’in lines that they weren’t as much competition as they had once been.

Then again, the Shin’a’in had suffered massive casualties amidst their herds during this invasion by the Black Kings. It would be generations before they returned to anything like their pre-invasion numbers. That was when Dalen knew he was woolgathering, thinking about the far future instead of the problems at hand.

“Do you think whatever is going on down there is related to what happened today, or to the war?” Dalen asked the older Herald.

“I have no idea.” Landir said with a shake of his head. “I just have no idea at all.”

“I guess we’ll find out sooner or later.” Dalen said with a sigh and began to plan in his head what he’d have to do to make this trip.