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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Stories in this Fandom are works of fan fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Recognized characters, events, incidents belong to Mercedes Lackey, Tor Publishing and their inheritors. <br>
Tests of Blood - 3. Chapter 3
Dalen Ashkevron was exhausted, with rings underneath his eyes and he wondered just how much longer his mother would expect him to stay on his feet before he collapsed. He’d no sooner walked into the apartments than she’d forced him to sit down and listen to her chatter with several of her ‘associates’ about the ‘situation’. The talk disturbed him, but it was little more than her playing one of her political games and he was too focused on other problems to worry about them anymore.
“Any word from your father through the relays?” His mother asked him in a terse way after seeing the last of her guests from the room. Dalen sighed as he shook his head and picked up the cup of tea she’d had one of the sycophants pour for him. At least it was sweetened with honey, but did a little to replenish his depleted energy reserves.
“He’s leading the Fifth Valdemaran along with the Sixteenth Karsite Regiments still.” Dalen replied with a sigh.
“What about your little friend?” His mother asked, referring to Bart. The Page had risen in her books as he supplied them with regular information from the Council meetings that he was sometimes privy to overhearing. Unfortunately for Bart, the Princess had spotted him running a message from the Council Chamber when she was trying to hound Prince Dellinar for more information. That night when Bart had come to visit Dalen, the boy had been grilled by her for three hours.
“He hasn’t been into the Council Chambers in the last sevenday.” Dalen lied easily and his mother frowned.
“I thought I saw him heading that way this morning.” She said with a sigh and a suspicious look. “You wouldn’t be holding back on me, son?”
“No, mother, I’m not.” Dalen sighed. “He wasn’t allowed inside. They seem to think he might be leaking information to outside sources. The Plebiscites knew the police forces were going to break up their rally and were ready for them.”
“I did not tell them.” Selenay sniffed. “That would be foolish of me. I am a member of the royal family. I have cut all ties to them.”
“I am sure you have, mother.” Dalen sighed, not even needing to Truth Read her to know she was lying through her teeth. She’d snuck out of the Palace that morning, he was certain. What game she was playing, he didn’t know for sure, and unless it was direct treason against the Crown, he’d say nothing. Right now all he wanted was some food and sleep.
Truth was he’d prefer just the sleep, but he knew he needed to eat.
Prince Dalen, youngest mage of the royal family was being used to augment the protections of Haven and to administer the dozens of small magical tasks that had become routine in the capitol city of Valdemar. Meanwhile, the mages who normally worked the Heartstone to perform those functions were doing long-range spell-casting on the Southern front of what was now being called the War of the Black Kings.
No one knew what had caused the Haighlei Empire to invade the southern sections of the Dorisha Plains, home of the Shin’a’in. All they knew was that forty thousand of the black skinned soldiers had swarmed over the southern rim of the Dorisha Plains crater and swept aside two whole clans before the first quick reaction forces from Valdemar, Karse, and Rethwellan had arrived via gate through the Kaled’a’in Vale on the northwest border of the plains.
The Kaled’a’in had fretted about providing even that much assistance because their ancient city of White Gryphon had a long standing alliance with the Black Kings. Fortunately for the Alliance, their communication with their home city had been cut off and they continued to provide assistance based on the suspicious lack of communication. White Gryphon had plenty of teleson devices and should have been in touch with their brethren, unless they were being blocked magically. Sure enough, Gryphon scout-mages had made it to the White Gryphon city to find it defending itself against a flotilla of Haighlei warships.
“You look tired, Dalen.” His mother said gently, with real concern in her voice.
“I am tired.” Dalen sighed. “I’ve been spell-casting since just after dawn and it’s now long past dinner. How was that by the way? You’ve been attending the court dinners, right?”
“The King isn’t there much, so I have been overseeing things.” His mother sighed with fake humility. She must love this! “I hate to think that they are working you so hard, son. You’re just a boy.”
“I’m better off than the mages that are Herald-Trainees.” Dalen reminded her with a sigh. The Black Kings had powerful mages, more powerful than they had expected and the mage battles down on the border were consuming a lot of the Alliance’s mages very fast. Not all of them were dying, in fact most were just suffering from drainage shock, and would recover in time. Still, the Heraldic Circle had stuffed the most senior Herald-Trainee mage students into their white uniforms and sent them down to the war zone. Dalen was under no illusion that if he had been Chosen by a Companion, he’d be down there too even though he was younger than most of those mages.
He was also more powerful, and finding that he was more skilled in many of the combative magics that he’d never paid attention to before this. In fact, the last time such magics had been used was during the Imperial invasion of Hardorn when his mother was a child. Heralds had to learn combative magics, but Dalen had never bothered with them beyond the basics because he wanted to be an artificer.
He still hadn’t done more than reinforce the city’s shield the one time the Haighlei mages had attempted a long-range strike at the capitol. That experience on the second day of the conflict had led him to seek out the elderly Herald-Mage Torrance, who had agreed to teach him some of the more advanced combat magics, both offensive and defensive. The fine levels of detailed control they required fascinated him in ways he hadn’t expected, and at least half his exhaustion came from continuing those lessons even while draining himself daily with the Heartstone.
“Dalen?” Bart’s voice came from the doorway and Dalen turned around to see his friend standing there with a tired look on his face. He wasn’t dressed in the Page’s uniform he normally wore, rather wearing the darker blue of a regular Collegium student.
“You made it in, congratulations.” Dalen said tiredly, but gave his friend a wide smile. His mother frowned but nodded in the boy’s direction before standing and leaving the room.
“She doesn’t look too happy.” Bart said with a half-smile as Greta, the servant that had been assigned to Dalen entered the room with more tea and a light meal of sweet honey cakes and a bowl of fresh fruit.
“The lady Princess came back from Court in a bad mood.” Greta said under her breath as she cleaned up the mess left by his mother’s previous guests. Dalen just sighed and closed his eyes again.
“They moved me out of the Page program at your suggestion.” Bart said in a very quiet voice after she had left.
“I hope you don’t mind?” Dalen half-asked his friend.
“I’m being trained for Administration!” Bart said and the happiness in his voice was more than enough of an answer. That was good. Bart had proven in the last few weeks that he was quite the administrator. In the chaos that reigned in the Page’s barracks after most of the adults responsible for the Pages were assigned to other tasks, Bart had stepped forward and organized the mostly younger pages about their duties. It was only two weeks later that Prince Dellinar realized they’d sent off the adults responsible for the pages and never replaced them.
It was a potentially embarrassing oversight that Bart had kept from becoming truly embarrassing, and his promotion to the Collegium was a result of that.
“Congratulations.” Dalen said tiredly.
“You look like horse turds.” Bart said with a grunt as he put his feet up on the coffee table. It was a habit of his that Dalen’s mother hated, and so Dalen encouraged it as much as possible. “Prince Dellinar is overworking you.”
“He’s going to the front next week.” Dalen said and his friend remained silent for a good long minute while Dalen chewed on a honey cake.
“It’s that serious?” Bart asked in a whisper. His face was pale when Dalen took a moment to look at him. That was when he remembered his friend had stayed with the Shin’a’in clans and probably had a friend or two among them.
“What Clan did you stay with?” Dalen asked.
“Talesedrin.” Bart answered.
“I’m pretty sure I heard that they were okay.” Dalen said in what he hoped was a comforting tone.
“They should be in the northern section of the plains this time of year.” Bart supplied what he knew of them.
“Then they’re providing cavalry support and evacuating to Kata’shin’a’in.” Dalen told his friend. “They think they can hold the line in the middle of the plains for now. It looks like the armies of the Black Kings are pushing for the remains of Urtho’s tower, but that was cleared out after the last round of Mage Storms. There’s nothing there for them to take, so it doesn’t make sense the way they’re pushing for it now.”
“Nothing we know of, you mean.” Bart reminded him.
“That’s true.” Dalen said with a sigh. The two honey cakes he’d eaten were more than enough for him, and now he wanted nothing but sleep. Unfortunately he also wanted to visit with his friend.
“You’re exhausted, and now that you’ve eaten, you need to rest.” Bart said in a kindly voice. “Uh uh, don’t bother protesting, Dalen. I am not a mage, but I grew up with them, remember. Using a Heartstone doesn’t tire a mage the way using their own energies do, but it is still exhausting. You use as much mental energy controlling the flow of power from the Heartstone as you would if you used your own mage energy. The only difference is that you’ll recover faster as long as you rest.”
“You know too much.” Dalen groaned, but didn’t protest as Bart stood and offered his hand for Dalen. Bart had to give him far too much help to get to his feet, and he found he was leaning on his friend a lot more than he had expected as Bart walked him to his rooms and to his bed.
“Get some rest, mage.” Bart said with a sheepish grin as he left Dalen lying on his bed. For his part, now that he was lying down, Dalen was too tired to strip off his loose-fitting clothes and crawl under the covers. He fell asleep as he was, fully dressed and half-sprawled on the top of the bed.
It felt like he’d no sooner put his head on the pillow than he was being prodded awake. His exhaustion was too much for him to wake instantly, and he found he almost had to claw his way back to consciousness. Part of him knew that this was a bad thing. So much of mage-craft depended on keeping control over magic, and a tired mage had less control.
Wake, mage. You are needed. The mental voice was a deep bass, and it took him a moment to realize it was a mind voice, not someone speaking to him.
Who is this? He asked mentally, unsure who would be speaking to him this way.
It is Levin, mage. The voice responded and Dalen’s eyes flew open as he came fully awake. Levin was the name of the Companion to King’s Own Herald Tomas. The King’s Own Herald was the ranking Herald in the Kingdom, and could at times act in the stead of Valdemar’s Monarch.
Even with the changes to the nature of the Royal Council over the last few decades, the King’s Own Herald exerted a great deal of control over the operations of the Kingdom. The current King’s Own, Herald Tomas had held the position for nearly twenty years and was well-respected by most people. The Herald wasn’t a Mage, but had powerful gifts in Empathy and Mindspeech, a very unusual combination. Most people with Mindspeech had no more than a basic level of Empathy, if any, and likewise strong Empaths were not usually capable of anything more than rudimentary mindspeech.
Why are you speaking to me? Dalen asked the Companion and half-feared the answer.
Tomas is well, mage and I am not about to choose you. The Companion’s mind voice held plenty of laughter as Dalen sighed with relief. While the Companion continued to talk with him, he used a trickle of power to create a ball of white mage-light in the room. There is more disaster approaching and everyone is busy calling all gifted. I volunteered to contact you. If you are now awake, you are needed in the Heartstone chamber.
I am on my way. Dalen said with a sigh as he stood up. He was still wearing the brown shirt of his mage student uniform, and although it was wrinkled, he didn’t bother to change before crossing over to the small bathing chamber. There was just enough time to splash a little water on his face, run a hand through his hair in an attempt to settle it down, and rub the sleep out of his eyes. A glance in the mirror showed how much the last few weeks had accelerated the bleaching effects of using Heartstone and node powers. His eyes were a full shade lighter blue already, and his hair had several streaks of pure white instead of blond coloring.
“What’s going on?” His mother asked from her seat in the sitting room as he passed through, the ball of magelight bobbing behind him. Dalen was surprised to see his mother sitting in the darkened room with a worried expression on her face.
“What are you doing up this late?” Dalen asked her sharply and she frowned deeply at him.
“You are not too old to discipline, young man.” Her voice was sharp and held a strong hint of anger. “You do not talk to your mother that way.”
“I am sorry, mother.” Dalen said with a sigh. “It’s just… what are you doing sitting here in the dark?”
“The question is what do you think you are doing up this late at night.” Selenay retorted and gave her son a stern look. Dalen held in the sigh he wanted to let out at his mother deciding to play the role of mother just now.
“I was woken by the King’s Own Companion and told that I was needed in the Heartstone chamber.” Dalen explained to her with a carefully neutral tone of voice.
“Is it more trouble?” She asked him.
“Yes.” Dalen said simply.
“Your father?” She asked.
“I have no idea.” Dalen said amidst surprise at the hint of concern in her voice.
“I’m not the cold, unfeeling person you and your father seem to think I am.” Selenay said with a sigh. “I think it is time we had a talk.”
“Mother, I don’t have time.” Dalen said with agitation at the direct statement she had just made. His mother was never this direct.
“I know, I know, but we will talk, soon.” She told him in a stern voice.
“Yes, but I am needed…” He said and broke off when she raised one hand in a dismissive gesture.
The hallways of the Palace were lit by permanent mage-lights and so he let his own mage-light dissolve while he strode purposely towards the more public sections of the building. Keeping these mage-lights powered was one of the many housekeeping tasks he had been working on over the last few weeks.
The guards that were stationed throughout the building snapped to attention as he passed them and he gave them an absent nod of his head. Once he was in the more public sections of the Palace, he found the building was bustling with activity despite the late hour.
He wasn’t the only person wearing mage-brown that was hurrying through the hallways of the Palace.
“What’s going on?” Diers Smithson asked as he moved abreast of Dalen. The other mage was a few years older, and while he’d never go beyond Master-class, he was quite capable and ready to finish his Journeyman period. He had never been chosen by a Companion, but had been considering accepting a posting as a Court Mage here at the Palace before war had broken out. The King employed several mages like Diers to do many of the magic tasks that Herald-Mages were too busy to handle on a regular basis, or to do research, or any number of other important things that would benefit the kingdom.
“I’m not sure.” Dalen replied to Diers’s question. They had only known each other for a few weeks, but the other mage had seemed to always find time to give Dalen some extra advice, or a little bit of help when he needed it. Lately, Diers had been assisting him on a number of warding tasks in the Heartstone chamber, even though Diers could not directly work with the Heartstone.
Dalen held no illusions about his abilities. One day he would be a very powerful and skilled Adept, but right now he lacked a great deal of the skill that lesser, but more experienced mages like Diers possessed. Still, by working together in close links, they could meld their differences in power and skills to make a working whole that was better than either of them separately. It was good experience for Dalen, and part of why he was becoming better and better at mage-craft with each passing day.
“You two should be in there by now.” A familiar and gruff voice caused Dalen to jump slightly before turning to smile at Herald Torrance. The elderly Herald moved stiffly, with the help of a cane and his short, white hair was messy as if he’d come directly from bed without bothering to take a moment and groom himself. Dalen could only wonder how his own hair looked because he’d done the same thing.
“You were summoned too, Herald?” Dalen asked with a polite nod as he paused and waited for the older man to catch up with them.
“I told you to call me Torrance, young man.” Herald Torrance snapped, but there was a smile on his face. “You would be Diers, would you not?”
“Yes, sir.” Diers said politely.
“Yes, yes, I remember hearing about you when you were first being schooled.” Torrance said with a smile. “Fine control you had then. You have reached Journeyman status by now, right?”
“Yes, sir.” Diers said with a slight widening of his eyes as he fell in on the other side of the old Herald.
“I am told the two of you have been working together as a team?” Torrance asked as they continued down the hallways.
“Yes, we have.” Diers answered for the both of them.
“That’s how it was done in the Ancar Wars.” Torrance said with a grunt of approval. “I remember the lessons when I was a trainee, back when they were still getting the Collegium established. Them gryphon teachers they had then would pair up older, more experienced mages with younger, untrained, but more powerful mages and use them as teams out in the field with the more experienced mage usually working through the other.”
“That’s what my grandfather always said.” Diers said in a voice filled with fondness at the memory. Dalen shook his head in surprise since he could not remember Diers ever mentioning his relatives before.
“Your grandfather was Herald Mage Arvard, right?” Torrance asked as they walked down the stairs leading to the Heartstone chamber. Here the hallways were next to empty, occupied only by blue and silver clad royal guards.
“You probably knew him, didn’t you?” Diers asked with a slight smile on his face.
“Yes, we crossed paths quite a bit.” Torrance said with a chuckle. “He had a damn steady hand when it came to the set-piece magic spells.”
“Father said I took after him in more ways than just the gift.” Diers chuckled.
“Yes, well, you’re a good lad, too.” Torrance said with a nod of his head. “I seem to remember hearing you wanted to do research into mage-created beings.”
“That is my field of expertise, and the King was going to approve a research grant for me, but now with the war, well it will have to wait.”
“That it will, lad.” Torrance said with a shake of his head. “I thought we had seen the last of these wars for a long time. What do the Black Kings think they are doing?”
“We will likely not know for some time, but eventually we will solve this crisis and be able to work at keeping it from repeating again.” Herald Mage and Prince Dellinar said from where he stood outside the Heartstone chamber. “I’m glad to see all of you finally made it here.”
“We’re here, lad, so you can get the bad news over with.” Torrance said with a sigh and a straightening of his shoulders. “Felicia and I don’t move half as well as we did even five years ago, but I suspect you’re not going to need us to lead any cavalry charges.”
“Not likely, old-timer.” Dellinar said with a grin and pure fondness in his voice as he smiled at the older Herald. “I do need you to take charge here, though. In a few hours you’re going to be the ranking Herald-Mage in Haven.”
“Why?” Dalen asked in a sharp, worried voice. While he was officially retired, the fact that Torrance was going to be considered the ranking Herald-Mage in the capitol meant most of them were leaving.
“You, Prince Dalen will be the most powerful Mage, and as such will hold the key to the Haven Heartstone until someone more senior returns.” Dellinar continued with a sharp glance, otherwise ignoring Dalen’s question. “It’s the first time a non-Herald has been given the key, but you are a member of the royal family, so the King has given his approval. You will answer to Herald Torrance, and the King directly.”
“But…” Dalen stuttered nervously as he broke out in a sweat. He understood exactly what Dellinar was telling him. Being keyed into the Heartstone let you use it, and the power it held. Not all mages could use that power. Only very well trained mages, or mages with a great deal of natural ability (like Dalen) could safely tap the Heartstone as a power source. Holding the key, what Dellinar was saying he was going to assign to Dalen, was vastly different.
Heartstones were the creation of the Tayledras. The Haven Heartstone was the only such thing to have been created by a non-Tayledras. The Haven stone had originally been created and powered by Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron in the far-distant past of Valdemar. In the time of Herald-Mage Elspeth, the stone had been reinvigorated by power taken from the k’Sheyna stone as it was being moved. The spirit of Vanyel Ashkevron had been responsible for that as well, Dalen knew.
That fact less than a dozen people in the Kingdom were ever allowed to know.
When the spirit of Vanyel Ashkevron had repowered the stone, he had locked it so that only one person could access its power. He had set Healing-Adept Firesong k’Treva as that key holder. Before leaving Haven, Firesong had passed it on to someone else (presumably Herald-Mage Elspeth). The key holder was the only person who could key new mages into the Heartstone. It was a position of trust, given that by using the power of the Heartstone, an evil – or even simply greedy mage could do great harm.
“Why am I here, sir?” Diers asked while Dalen opened and closed his mouth, searching for the words that were spinning through his head.
“You will assist Dalen in his duties.” Dellinar explained with a smile. “I am assured you are all but ready for the Master test.”
“I think I am, sir.” Diers said proudly.
“Herald Torrance is more than qualified to administer that test when you are ready for it, Diers.” Dellinar said calmly. “If it hasn’t been made clear to you already, let me assure you that the King has extended to you the position of Court Mage. Eventually you will have time and resources to pursue your research, but for now we require your assistance in other matters. A Master should be able to handle enough Heartstone power to do most of the daily tasks Dalen has been performing. Those that you can’t handle directly, the two of you will handle together, with your greater control and his greater abilities. From now on you will report directly to Herald Torrance.”
“Thank you, highness.” Diers said with slight bow of his head and Dalen recovered enough to give Diers a clap on the back in support.
“Ha!” Herald Torrance barked. “You’ve more than earned it from what I hear, lad. Now, why don’t you tell us what has you and every other damn mage that can still ride and fight running out of here, and when are you leaving?”
“We are leaving as soon as we get the Gate in the grove powered up and set.” Dellinar said with a sigh. “Here is the bad news. Ceejay and Ruvan have withdrawn from the Alliance.”
“What?” Dalen squeaked. No country had ever left the Alliance before!
“They appear to have reached some sort of agreement with the Black Kings.” Dellinar said with a shake of his head. “You heard the Death Bell, Torrance?”
“It’s been going off almost every damn day.” Torrance muttered as he nodded. “I’ve been blocking the images out. They just frustrate me because I’m too damn old to avenge those that have fallen.”
“Herald Lawrence fell earlier tonight.” Dellinar said by way of explanation to Diers and Dalen. No one who lived in Haven, especially the Palace, was ignorant of the Death Bell and what it meant. Somehow, all Heralds knew when one of their number died, and they rang a great bell in the Temple that sat in the middle of Companions’ Field. The temple itself sat in the middle of the Grove that occupied the heart of Companion’s Field, and you could hear it from anywhere within the Palace grounds. Dalen figured he must have slept through its doleful ringing.
“What happened?” Torrance muttered darkly. He was probably blaming himself for not knowing. Dalen knew Heralds could usually get some idea of what had happened to Heralds who had died because of some magic spell.
“He was on messenger duty from Kata’shin’a’in up to Sunhame.” Dellinar said with a shake of his head. “There were a few dispatches that were a little too sensitive for quicker forms of communication, and he was continuing on the back of his Companion instead of waiting for the next locomotive in Ceejay. That’s how he came across the army of Black Kings heading to Kata’shin’a’in from the North and East. Lawrence used a Teleson to contact us directly, and before he could get away some of the mages from the new Black King army got him.”
“He gave his life to warn us.” Torrance said with a heavy sigh.
“Yes, we called up the Ceejay ambassadors and they gave us the official bad news that they were withdrawing from the Alliance.” Dellinar continued. “His majesty was so furious he kicked both Ambassadors out of the city and are making them travel by horse carriage to the border. A whole squad of Royal Guards and a Herald are escorting them.”
“So you’re leading a strike force against the new army?” Torrance asked. “They’ll be shooting for Kata’shin’a’in and that is where you are evacuating all the folks from the Plains to right now.”
“Two companies will be heading down by Gate within the next few days, as well as every Herald and Mage we can spare.” Prince Dellinar said heavily and fixed Dalen with a very direct look. “We’re taking everyone who is old enough or young enough to handle battle. Whatever the Black Kings are after, we won’t let them get it without a fight. When we needed them, the Shin’a’in were there for us, and so we’ll be there for them now.”
“I agree.” Torrance said firmly.
“Yes, well, before I leave with the first team, I need to discuss your new duties with you Dalen.” Dellinar said as he gave his ‘cousin’ a very direct look. “I know you never wanted any of these duties, but you’re blood and by everything I have seen a good young man.”
“I’ll do my best.” Dalen promised with a slight sinking sensation in his stomach. Growing up he’d learned early enough he’d never be one of those happy, carefree children that occasionally came through the palace on school tours. Even at Forst Reach he’d always been one step removed, surrounded by cousins who understood their duties and responsibilities to the people of the area, and so those words had always been understood by him.
Why exactly he was so uneasy about it he couldn’t’ say, he just knew that there was a nagging little feeling in the bottom of his stomach that the future was not going to be very pleasant.
- 29
- 6
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Stories in this Fandom are works of fan fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Recognized characters, events, incidents belong to Mercedes Lackey, Tor Publishing and their inheritors. <br>
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