Sevenfold Sword: Shadow Read online

  “Agreed,” said Ridmark. “We should bring some waterskins, too. There might not be any water in the Pass of Ruins.”

  “Aye, that is a good thought,” said Third. She paused. “It reminds me of when we traveled to the Range and the city of Bastoth, to convince the manetaurs to aid Andomhaim against the Frostborn.”

  “Somewhat,” said Ridmark. “But I understood the manetaurs. These Takai are alien to me. And we understood the dangers. We knew the Enlightened of Incariel would try to kill Calliande, that Prince Kurdulkar had sworn to the darkness. The mystery was not as intense…”

  “Mystery?” said Third. “You mean the Seven Swords?”

  “In part,” said Ridmark, and he straightened up and looked at her. Third stood motionless, a shadowy figure in the gloomy light from the city and the moons overhead. Save for Calliande, there was no one else he trusted as much in all Owyllain. “And something else, too.”

  Third said nothing, waiting for him to work out his thoughts.

  “I need to ask you a question,” said Ridmark, “but I don’t think you should speak of it to anyone else, save for Calliande.”

  “Of course,” said Third.

  Ridmark drew in a deep breath. “What do you think of the Masked One of Xenorium?”

  “The Masked One of Xenorium is no threat to anyone,” said Third promptly.

  Ridmark watched her. Third’s expression remained calm, but her pale forehead creased a little as if something was troubling her and she could not quite work out what it was.

  “Why?” said Ridmark.

  “The Masked One of Xenorium is no threat to anyone…because the Masked One of Xenorium is no threat to anyone,” said Third.

  This time her confusion was plain.

  “If Brother Caius were here,” said Ridmark, “I think he would say that was a tautology, not an explanation.”

  “You are right,” said Third. She frowned. “Why did I say that? It does not make any sense.”

  “What do you know about the Masked One?” said Ridmark.

  “Little enough,” said Third. “He was once an Arcanius Knight named Cavilius, one of the four favored apprentices of Master Talitha. When Rhodruthain and Talitha betrayed Kothlaric, Cavilius escaped with the Sword of Shadows. He called himself the Masked One, seized control of the city of Xenorium, and has remained there ever since. The Masked One has barely fifteen hundred hoplites at his command, and has taken only minimal part in the War of the Seven Swords.” Her frown sharpened. “But why would I immediately say that he was no threat to anyone?”

  “Logically, he is little threat at the moment,” said Ridmark. “Hektor has thirty times as many soldiers, and so does the Confessor. The Sword of Shadows must be powerful, but no one seems to know what it does.”

  “That is true,” said Third, “but why would I say that he is no threat to anyone? Until the extent of his abilities and the powers of the Sword of Shadows are better understood, it would be far wiser to consider him an unknown threat, rather than harmless.” She gave an irritated shake of her head. “But why would I make that assumption? I never assume anyone is harmless. Not unless I…oh.”

  Her dark eyes widened for a moment.

  “Unless I have been subject to a subtle mind-altering spell,” said Third.

  “Do you remember what King Hektor and Master Nicion said during our meeting?” said Ridmark.

  “The Masked One of Xenorium is no threat to anyone,” said Third. “The same words.”

  “Not just the same words,” said Ridmark. “The exact same words.”

  They stood in silence for a moment.

  “Something strange is happening,” said Third.

  “Yes,” said Ridmark. “Calliande noticed it first. Whenever she asked about the Masked One, people would respond with the same thing. The Masked One of Xenorium is no threat to anyone. Then they would change the topic and forget that we had ever even been talking about the Masked One. Back at the Monastery of St. Paul, we asked four different people the same question about the Masked One, and they all responded with exactly the same words.”

  Third thought this over.

  “Then it is logical that the Sword of Shadows wields power over the magic of the mind,” said Third. “The dark elves possessed many such powers. If the Sovereign indeed forged the Seven Swords, then it is reasonable that one of the Swords would be endowed with such power.”

  “Aye,” said Ridmark. “We’ve seen it before. At Urd Morlemoch, before the Warden’s spirit possessed Calliande, he trapped us all within a dream. The dream showed us whatever we wanted, and the Warden left us there to die of thirst.”

  “That was a common torment employed by the dark elves,” said Third. Her lip twisted with old anger. “My father employed it often. Though he preferred to wake his victims in the final instant before death, so they might realize that the dream had been false in the final second of their lives. The dark elves loved cruelty the way a drunkard loves wine.”

  “And your father above all,” said Ridmark.

  “Aye,” said Third, her expression distant. She seemed to glare at nothing for a moment, and then her cool mask returned. “But my father is dead, and we are not. Now that we have knowledge of this new threat, how shall we proceed?”

  “Carefully,” said Ridmark. “I wondered if chasing after Cathala and the seventh shard was a fool’s errand. Perhaps we would serve better in the campaign against the Confessor. But if the Masked One can use the power of his Sword to make all his enemies disregard him as a threat…there is something hidden here, Third, something hidden and deadly. We must know what it is. Otherwise, we shall walk into the trap just as Calliande and I walked into the Warden’s trap all those years ago.”

  “Should we not speak to King Hektor?” said Third. “Perhaps we can persuade him of the danger of the Masked One.”

  Ridmark shook his head. “Whatever the Masked One has done, Calliande hasn’t yet been able to detect it with the Sight. If we push too hard and try to convince Hektor and his advisors that the Masked One is a threat…Calliande isn’t sure how they would respond. They might become violent. Or think that we are insane. Or simply forget the entire conversation.”

  “Then the Masked One is controlling all of Owyllain with his Sword?” said Third. She shook her head. “No, that is unlikely. If he possessed such power, he would have no need to hide it. No, I think it more likely that he has put a…whisper into the minds of his enemies. A suggestion that they forget about him.”

  “Agreed,” said Ridmark. “And until we understand more of the Masked One and his abilities, we should not speak of this to anyone but Calliande. The Masked One might have spies, and if he realizes we have seen through his defense, he could react violently.”

  “That is a sound course of action,” said Third. She tilted her head to the side. “Why did you confide in me?”

  Ridmark smiled. “Because of who you are. You know yourself in a way that most people never will. You’ve endured things most people can’t imagine. If anyone could realize that their mind had been tampered with, it would be you.”

  “Thank you,” said Third. She sighed. “Though I wonder if I truly know myself. Not when Kyralion…”

  She trailed off, and Ridmark wondered if she was struggling with the words. Instead, she turned towards one of the doors leading back into the domus, her eyes narrowed.

  “Someone is coming,” said Third.

  The door opened, and Sir Calem stepped onto the balcony. He had removed his dark elven armor and white cloak and wore only trousers, boots, and the red tunic of a common hoplite. The Sword of Air remained in its scabbard at his belt.

  “Lord Ridmark,” said Calem. “Master Michael said you were up here.”

  Ridmark nodded. “Aye. Third and I were just discussing how many scutians we’ll need for the journey to Kalimnos.”

  “That is prudent,” said Calem. He looked at the city, and Ridmark had the sudden impression that the younger man was nervous. “I…wis
h to ask you something.”

  “Certainly,” said Ridmark.

  “It is somewhat delicate,” said Calem.

  “I can leave if you wish,” said Third.

  “There is no need,” said Calem. “You are a skilled warrior, and I have no doubt you have already observed everything I need to discuss with Lord Ridmark.”

  “I haven’t,” said Ridmark. “What is it?”

  Calem nodded, took a deep breath, and looked at Ridmark.

  “How do you pay court to a woman?” said Calem.

  Ridmark blinked. He had been expecting Calem to ask about some dire matter, or to reveal some terrible secret. Of everything that Calem might have asked, he hadn’t expected that.

  “What?” said Ridmark at last.

  “When a man finds a woman admirable and attractive and wishes to spend more time with her in hopes of one day asking for her hand,” said Calem, “how exactly does he…do that?”

  His usual cold mask had dissolved into earnest confusion.

  “Which woman?” said Ridmark, though he already knew.

  “It is Lady Kalussa, is it not?” said Third.

  “You are correct, my lady,” said Calem.

  “Well,” said Ridmark, “I suppose you would start by asking her father for permission.”

  “I already spoke with King Hektor, after you had finished taking counsel with him,” said Calem. “The King expressed no opposition to the idea and said I would make an admirable son-in-law. That said, he had given Kalussa permission to marry so the choice would remain in her hands.”

  “I see,” said Ridmark. “We are leaving for Kalimnos in two days, so you will spend a lot of time with her on the journey.”

  “That is insufficient,” said Calem. “I understand that when a knight admires a lady, he customarily invites her to hunt, or to walk with him, or to attend a tournament. Additionally, a noble lady is accompanied by a chaperone, so that her virtue and reputation may remain intact from baseless gossip.”

  “Yes,” said Ridmark.

  “Such opportunities will be limited during our journey,” said Calem. “For safety, we all will have to remain close together. Lady Kalussa will spend most of her time receiving magical instruction from the Keeper.”

  Ridmark nodded. “You may have to wait until we return to Aenesium to court her properly, Calem.”

  “Then you counsel patience,” said Calem.

  “Yes,” said Ridmark. “However, if you are serious about this, you can start in small ways. Bring her gifts as we travel. Food, perhaps, or a drink of cold water in the afternoon sun. She might like flowers as well.”

  “She is the daughter of a King,” said Calem. “Would she not laugh at such gifts?”

  “I doubt it,” said Ridmark. “The fact that they come from you will make all the difference. And at the right time, a drink of cold water is worth more than all the gold in the world. You might want to court her, Calem, but I suspect she wants you to court her. So, court her.”

  “I would also suggest acting at once,” said Third. Ridmark glanced at her in surprise. “We still have two days in Aenesium. Invite her to walk with you through the city, or to a dinner.”

  “That seems wise,” said Calem. He frowned. “I will need to arrange a chaperone, though.”

  “I am willing to serve in that role,” said Third.

  “You would?” said Calem. “Thank you. Obviously, you would respond to any inappropriate behavior with lethal violence, and therefore Lady Kalussa’s reputation would remain intact.”

  “Obviously,” said Ridmark. “Lady Kalussa would also respond to any unwanted suitors by shooting a crystalline sphere through their skulls, so her reputation will be doubly safeguarded.” Though Kalussa might want to lose her virtue with Calem, come to think of it, but that wasn’t Ridmark’s decision.

  “Thank you,” said Calem. “For your advice. I don’t…in a fight, I usually know exactly what to do, but in this, I am unsure.”

  “A beautiful woman can make a fool of a man,” said Ridmark, “but you’re not a fool, Calem.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” said Calem. He hesitated. “Did…you pay court to Lady Calliande? When you met her?”

  “If you must know,” said Ridmark, “I stumbled across Calliande by accident on the day we met, and we had to run for our lives.” He snorted. “Ten years later, and I suppose we’re still running. But my first wife…”

  “You were married before Lady Calliande?” said Calem, surprised.

  “Yes, to Aelia,” said Ridmark. He sighed. “She died a long time ago. But when we met…I proceeded much as we just described. Walks, hunts, dinners. Always with a chaperone. Sometimes with her brother Constantine, or her sister Imaria.”

  That all felt as if it had been a very long time ago.

  “What made her decide to marry you?” said Calem.

  “I went into the citadel of the Warden of Urd Morlemoch and came out alive again,” said Ridmark.

  Calem blinked. “Lady Aelia must have been difficult to impress.”

  “She was the daughter of the Dux of the Northerland,” said Ridmark. “She was allowed to be difficult to impress.”

  “How did you impress Lady Calliande?” said Calem.

  Before Ridmark could answer, Third spoke.

  “As I recall, he saved her life multiple times,” said Third, “and went into Urd Morlemoch and Khald Azalar with her and brought her out alive again. He slew Tymandain the Shadowbearer of legend and defeated the corrupted Prince Kurdulkar, the Weaver, and the false king Tarrabus Carhaine. And he took up the sword of the Dragon Knight and defeated the Frostborn.”

  Ridmark glanced at her. “You were only there for some of that.”

  To his surprise, Third smiled. “If the daughter of a Dux is difficult to impress, how much more the Keeper of Andomhaim?”

  “Fortunately, Sir Calem,” said Ridmark, “I think Kalussa is already impressed with you. I suspect she wants you to court her.”

  “Thank you, Lord Ridmark,” said Calem, and he bowed. “You have given me much to think about.”

  With that, he turned and vanished through the door.

  Ridmark glanced at Third.

  She smiled, and he chuckled a little.

  “I had forgotten what it was like to be that young,” Ridmark said.

  “Perhaps once we are victorious and return to Aenesium,” said Third, “there shall be a wedding to celebrate.”

  “Aye,” said Ridmark. He would welcome that. It would mean Kalussa had given up on the idea of becoming his concubine. And, truth be told, Ridmark thought Calem and Kalussa would be good for each other. Kalussa wanted to be a wife and a mother, and she already liked Calem. And Calem was clearly infatuated with Kalussa, and wanted to act as a noble knight. Ridmark had seen successful marriages built on weaker foundations than that.

  “That was something I never understood,” said Third. “I…”

  She gazed into the night and then shook her head.

  “I should follow him at a discreet distance,” said Third. “If he wishes to invite Kalussa to a walk, I will need to chaperone them.”

  Ridmark shook his head. “Matchmaking was really more of Calliande’s strength.”

  Third shrugged. “We are both warriors. Is it not pleasant to encourage something to grow instead? Especially after all the destruction we have seen?”

  “I suppose it is,” said Ridmark. “Good night, Lady Third.”

  She smiled a little and inclined her head. “Good night, Lord Ridmark.”

  Third left the balcony, taking the door that Calem had used. Ridmark shook his head, amused. It seemed he had become old enough that younger men came to him for counsel. Well, that was all right. If he lived long enough, no doubt he would have conversations like this with Gareth and Joachim one day.

  But how Morigna would have laughed if she could have seen it. Ridmark Arban, the man who had wandered the Wilderland for years in atonement for his wife’s death, giving advice about
courtship.

  He frowned. Why would he think about Morigna now?

  For an instant, something wavered at the edge of his memory like a mirage, something to do with Tamlin and Taerdyn’s corrupted heart…

  Ridmark put the thought out of his head. He was tired, and his mind was wandering. Perhaps it was time to go to bed. The next two days would be busy, and then the journey to Kalimnos awaited them.

  He walked into the upstairs hallway and eased open the door to the room he shared with Calliande. She sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed, her right hand grasping the steel bracelet on her left wrist. Calliande was still communicating with Antenora, an astounding feat of magic given that Tarlion was three and a half thousand miles away. Given that Antenora might know useful information, Ridmark did not want to interrupt his wife’s conversation with her apprentice.

  Instead, he stopped by the boys’ room, checked to make sure they were asleep and safe. (And that they weren’t hitting each other, yet again.) Both Gareth and Joachim were asleep. With nothing better to do, Ridmark went down to the courtyard, intending to sit and drink a cup of wine and watch the stars. There had been little enough time for such pleasures lately.

  Come to think of it, there had been little enough time for such things during most of his life, starting from when he had gone to serve as a squire in the court of Dux Gareth. How many miles had Ridmark traveled over the years? He decided he didn’t want to know. The thought would just make him tired.

  He came to the inner courtyard, the moons throwing pale light across the flagstones, and stopped. Tamlin sat at one of the benches, a cup in his hand and a skin of wine next to his boots.

  “Lord Ridmark!” said Tamlin. To judge from the slur in his voice, he had already drained quite a bit of the wineskin. “Come, join me for a drink.”

  Tamlin produced another cup, and Ridmark sat next to him. The younger knight filled the cup from the skin, spilling only a little, and Ridmark took it.