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The Gray Tower
© 2014 by Walter Reimer
(This is a sequel to The Black Chapel. Reading the earlier story isn’t really necessary, but you may find it useful. Just saying.)
Art by
whitearabmare
14.
Cleaning up had taken some time. “You told me you were reading over Jeresh’s notes,” Trasta said as they walked back to the house.
“Yes, with Masters Marok and Ast watching over me. Why?”
“I was just thinking that you should learn that ward Amb used – the one that took you both out of time.” The Princess raised a brow as the Adept shivered unconsciously. “I’m sorry if that brought back bad memories.”
“It’s all right,” the raccoon said hastily. “It’s been a while, so I shouldn’t let myself get flustered by the thought of it. He’s dead, and can’t harm me.”
The feel of the ‘Worms’ as they possessed her, dragging her deeper as he watched impassively, mocking her all the same . . .
She smiled. “Will you still love me if I become a war-mage?” she asked, turning her back on of the memory.
Trasta snorted. “We’ll see after I take you along with me on campaign and you spend a few weeks sleeping on bare ground,” and she laughed as the sow stuck her tongue out in distaste. “Master Maffa never complains.”
“Hmmph. She’s feline – they can sleep anywhere.” Both women started laughing as they approached the house and saw that Thegn Ranol and his wife were waiting outside.
“Your Highness,” Ranol said as his wife dropped a formal curtsy, “I apologize for allowing you to go off after my daughter. I should have sent – “
Trasta raised a paw. “It’s no matter, Thegn Ranol.” Her expression was solemn. “I was spanking her.”
Halvrika suddenly blushed.
Charila looked almost as embarrassed.
Ranol quirked a brow as his ringed tail switched back and forth. “Spanked?”
“Yes, sir,” Trasta replied. “In requesting that your Denunciation be lifted, your daughter showed great bravery in – well, basically – forcing the King my father into a corner. He had to either grant her request or be forsworn before Azos.” The doe grinned. “I took it upon myself to administer the King’s justice.”
Ranol shot his daughter a shocked glare. “Luli’s golden sword, girl, what were you thinking? Your Highness, please convey my thanks to the King for sparing her life.”
“I will, sir.”
“Wait! ‘Sparing my life?’” Halvrika gasped.
“The last time the King was forced to grant something,” the doe said, “was when my grandfather was on the throne. He granted the boon, and had the fellow executed before sundown.” She grinned at Halvrika, whose nosepad had gone pale. “King Nolki was a rather unforgiving sort.”
“I think I managed to get off lightly,” the raccoon said in a soft, subdued tone. “I swear I won’t do anything like that again.”
“See to it that you don’t,” her father said. “Your Highness, may I persuade you and your retinue to stay for dinner?”
“I’d be honored, Thegn Ranol.”
***
Several days later the midmorning sun cast Halvrika’s shadow on the Order’s courtyard. The raccoon was wearing trousers with the legs cut off at the knees, and a shirt that was missing both sleeves. Her feet were bare. Facing her, dressed similarly, was Master Maffa.
The tortoiseshell feline’s usual smile was conspicuously absent. “So, you expressed a desire to learn combat magic.”
“Ye – “
”I did not give thee leave to speak!” her voice thundered through the Writ, accompanied by an angry look. “Now, use your Sight, girl, and tell me if you See any traps.”
Halvrika’s eyes glowed silver and she Saw several dozen ‘knots’ in the otherwise seamless landscape of light. “I count . . . thirty-seven.”
“Oh?”
Halvrika looked down.
There was a thirty-eighth, right beneath her feet, and before she could move the spell tripped.
In an instant she was enveloped in white-hot flames, the heat searing into her, her fur burning, crisping into ash; her lungs scorching as she drew breath to scream . . .
“Get up.”
The raccoon shuddered, curled into a fetal position on the ground, and stared up at Master Maffa. The older woman sneered at her. “Get up,” she said again.
Slowly she realized that she wasn’t on fire. The spell had been an amazing illusion. She got to her feet and Maffa said, “Did you think I’d kill you right at the start of your training? You aren’t that lucky, Halvrika. You will learn to craft spells like that. You will learn to use your Sight before entering any room or building. You will learn to always See beyond the next hill for traps.”
The feline leaned in close, and smiled.
“And you will learn to fear me.”
The raccoon gulped.
***
Scouts and heralds had been going back and forth between the Royal Keep at Shuganath and the approaching force. Tokens and representations of peaceful intent had been exchanged, and the city had been decked out to offer a welcome. The City Guard were arrayed in their best, and the thegn whose territory the force passed through was providing a guard of honor.
King Aroki, Queen Falra and their two oldest children waited in the main courtyard of the Keep. Meki sat to his father’s right, his usual expression schooled into something a bit more pleasant. Trasta, in her armor to signify her rank, stood between the King and Queen.
“Mother,” Trasta said.
“Yes, Trasta?”
“Meki tells me that this noble is a deer.” Her brother grinned at her.
Falra nodded. “So I’m told, yes.”
The younger doe frowned. “Did you invite him here?”
“No, dear, and your father has told me that I am not to play matchmaker this time.” Aroki reached across and patted his wife’s paw. “So you can relax.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
Two heralds wearing red and silver surcoats rode through the gate and reined to a stop. They raised small hunting horns to their lips and blew a long note. The one on the right cried out, “The High Lord Chassi begs leave to approach the King’s Majesty.”
Aroki stood, and the distinguished guests and barons around him knelt. “The King awaits Earl Chassi,” the elk buck said.
The heralds moved to flank the gate. Another fanfare, and a red deer buck entered alone and on his hooves. An earl’s coronet sat upon his head, and his red and silver tabard bore a likeness of the same diadem in gold. He was unarmed.
He walked to within ten paces of the King and knelt on one knee. “Chassi am I, Earl of Repor, and I am come to greet the King’s Majesty with the news that the former Earl, my father Foli, has passed into Dator’s Underworld these four weeks gone.” He lowered his head as High Priest Makari, looking frail, intoned a prayer to the Pantheon for the old buck’s soul. He straightened and said, “I am my father’s son, and successor to his rank, his title and his demesne. I have come to offer my paw to the King’s service, and to swear fealty to the High House of Shuga.”
He remained kneeling as Aroki stepped forward, and raised his paws palms up. Aroki covered the young buck’s palms with his own as the Earl recited, “I, Chassi son of Foli, pledge before the Pantheon to be loyal to the High House unto death, to serve the King faithfully, and to defend the realm with all my strength. If I be forsworn, may Azos’ holy wrath strip the flesh from my bones.”
Aroki gripped the younger buck’s paws as he said in his carrying tones, “I, Aroki son of Nolki, pledge before the Pantheon to be as a father to Chassi son of Foli, to be his brother in arms and his friend in hardship. If I be forsworn, may Azos’ holy wrath strip the flesh from my bones.” He grinned as the crowd cheered. “Rise, my Lord Earl.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” There were more cheers as the two bucks kissed each other on the cheek as a sign of respect. As Chassi stood, the King escorted him to the dais where the other members of the High House waited.
“My wife, Queen Falra.”
The buck bowed low. “Your Majesty.”
Falra acknowledged him with a gracious nod, then gave Trasta a mischievous look. The younger doe ignored her.
“My eldest, Crown Prince Meki.”
“Your Highness.”
“My Lord.”
Chassi smiled. “I am told that Your Highness is a very scholarly fellow. I would consider it an honor to challenge you to a game of shash at your convenience.”
Meki’s ears flicked. Shash was a game of strategy that required a player to anticipate his opponent’s attacks or counters sometimes three moves ahead. He broke into a calculating grin and extended a paw. “You have a match, Earl Chassi,” and the two shook paws.
“Princess Trasta, General of the Armies of Shuga.”
“Your Highness.”
“My Lord.”
Trasta waited. It was usual for a buck to compliment her about something – her eyes, her hair – but this fellow merely smiled as her father escorted him away.
***
“It was very odd,” the elk doe said a few days later. “He just looked through me. Not like the normal bucks, who all melt away at my hooves.” She took a sip of wine and looked across the table. “Halvrika?”
“Hm?”
“Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”
“Yes, Princess.” The raccoon looked tired. “I’ve just been . . . “
“I was going to ask how your training was going – “ She started backward as the sow practically leaped out of her chair, waving her paws frantically.
“For the love of Azos, Trasta, don’t say anything!” Halvrika tried to look everywhere at once, even under her feet. “She’s been attacking me whenever she feels like it. Even when I sleep. I have to check under my bed twice every night, and even then I can’t trust the shadows.” She took a gulp of her wine and set the cup down on the table. “I have to be partly in the Writ at all times.”
“Why?”
“A war-mage does,” she replied. “Our first spar, and she cut through my wards like cheese, and laughed at me while she did it! Remember when I joked that the reason Master Maffa seemed so comfortable when you were out campaigning?”
Trasta thought. “Yes. You said it was because she was feline, and they can – “
“Sleep anywhere. Yes. But I know her secret.” She leaned in close, her features haggard as she looked wide-eyed at the Princess.
“It’s because she never sleeps.”
© 2014 by Walter Reimer
(This is a sequel to The Black Chapel. Reading the earlier story isn’t really necessary, but you may find it useful. Just saying.)
Art by
whitearabmare14.
Cleaning up had taken some time. “You told me you were reading over Jeresh’s notes,” Trasta said as they walked back to the house.
“Yes, with Masters Marok and Ast watching over me. Why?”
“I was just thinking that you should learn that ward Amb used – the one that took you both out of time.” The Princess raised a brow as the Adept shivered unconsciously. “I’m sorry if that brought back bad memories.”
“It’s all right,” the raccoon said hastily. “It’s been a while, so I shouldn’t let myself get flustered by the thought of it. He’s dead, and can’t harm me.”
The feel of the ‘Worms’ as they possessed her, dragging her deeper as he watched impassively, mocking her all the same . . .
She smiled. “Will you still love me if I become a war-mage?” she asked, turning her back on of the memory.
Trasta snorted. “We’ll see after I take you along with me on campaign and you spend a few weeks sleeping on bare ground,” and she laughed as the sow stuck her tongue out in distaste. “Master Maffa never complains.”
“Hmmph. She’s feline – they can sleep anywhere.” Both women started laughing as they approached the house and saw that Thegn Ranol and his wife were waiting outside.
“Your Highness,” Ranol said as his wife dropped a formal curtsy, “I apologize for allowing you to go off after my daughter. I should have sent – “
Trasta raised a paw. “It’s no matter, Thegn Ranol.” Her expression was solemn. “I was spanking her.”
Halvrika suddenly blushed.
Charila looked almost as embarrassed.
Ranol quirked a brow as his ringed tail switched back and forth. “Spanked?”
“Yes, sir,” Trasta replied. “In requesting that your Denunciation be lifted, your daughter showed great bravery in – well, basically – forcing the King my father into a corner. He had to either grant her request or be forsworn before Azos.” The doe grinned. “I took it upon myself to administer the King’s justice.”
Ranol shot his daughter a shocked glare. “Luli’s golden sword, girl, what were you thinking? Your Highness, please convey my thanks to the King for sparing her life.”
“I will, sir.”
“Wait! ‘Sparing my life?’” Halvrika gasped.
“The last time the King was forced to grant something,” the doe said, “was when my grandfather was on the throne. He granted the boon, and had the fellow executed before sundown.” She grinned at Halvrika, whose nosepad had gone pale. “King Nolki was a rather unforgiving sort.”
“I think I managed to get off lightly,” the raccoon said in a soft, subdued tone. “I swear I won’t do anything like that again.”
“See to it that you don’t,” her father said. “Your Highness, may I persuade you and your retinue to stay for dinner?”
“I’d be honored, Thegn Ranol.”
***
Several days later the midmorning sun cast Halvrika’s shadow on the Order’s courtyard. The raccoon was wearing trousers with the legs cut off at the knees, and a shirt that was missing both sleeves. Her feet were bare. Facing her, dressed similarly, was Master Maffa.
The tortoiseshell feline’s usual smile was conspicuously absent. “So, you expressed a desire to learn combat magic.”
“Ye – “
”I did not give thee leave to speak!” her voice thundered through the Writ, accompanied by an angry look. “Now, use your Sight, girl, and tell me if you See any traps.”
Halvrika’s eyes glowed silver and she Saw several dozen ‘knots’ in the otherwise seamless landscape of light. “I count . . . thirty-seven.”
“Oh?”
Halvrika looked down.
There was a thirty-eighth, right beneath her feet, and before she could move the spell tripped.
In an instant she was enveloped in white-hot flames, the heat searing into her, her fur burning, crisping into ash; her lungs scorching as she drew breath to scream . . .
“Get up.”
The raccoon shuddered, curled into a fetal position on the ground, and stared up at Master Maffa. The older woman sneered at her. “Get up,” she said again.
Slowly she realized that she wasn’t on fire. The spell had been an amazing illusion. She got to her feet and Maffa said, “Did you think I’d kill you right at the start of your training? You aren’t that lucky, Halvrika. You will learn to craft spells like that. You will learn to use your Sight before entering any room or building. You will learn to always See beyond the next hill for traps.”
The feline leaned in close, and smiled.
“And you will learn to fear me.”
The raccoon gulped.
***
Scouts and heralds had been going back and forth between the Royal Keep at Shuganath and the approaching force. Tokens and representations of peaceful intent had been exchanged, and the city had been decked out to offer a welcome. The City Guard were arrayed in their best, and the thegn whose territory the force passed through was providing a guard of honor.
King Aroki, Queen Falra and their two oldest children waited in the main courtyard of the Keep. Meki sat to his father’s right, his usual expression schooled into something a bit more pleasant. Trasta, in her armor to signify her rank, stood between the King and Queen.
“Mother,” Trasta said.
“Yes, Trasta?”
“Meki tells me that this noble is a deer.” Her brother grinned at her.
Falra nodded. “So I’m told, yes.”
The younger doe frowned. “Did you invite him here?”
“No, dear, and your father has told me that I am not to play matchmaker this time.” Aroki reached across and patted his wife’s paw. “So you can relax.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
Two heralds wearing red and silver surcoats rode through the gate and reined to a stop. They raised small hunting horns to their lips and blew a long note. The one on the right cried out, “The High Lord Chassi begs leave to approach the King’s Majesty.”
Aroki stood, and the distinguished guests and barons around him knelt. “The King awaits Earl Chassi,” the elk buck said.
The heralds moved to flank the gate. Another fanfare, and a red deer buck entered alone and on his hooves. An earl’s coronet sat upon his head, and his red and silver tabard bore a likeness of the same diadem in gold. He was unarmed.
He walked to within ten paces of the King and knelt on one knee. “Chassi am I, Earl of Repor, and I am come to greet the King’s Majesty with the news that the former Earl, my father Foli, has passed into Dator’s Underworld these four weeks gone.” He lowered his head as High Priest Makari, looking frail, intoned a prayer to the Pantheon for the old buck’s soul. He straightened and said, “I am my father’s son, and successor to his rank, his title and his demesne. I have come to offer my paw to the King’s service, and to swear fealty to the High House of Shuga.”
He remained kneeling as Aroki stepped forward, and raised his paws palms up. Aroki covered the young buck’s palms with his own as the Earl recited, “I, Chassi son of Foli, pledge before the Pantheon to be loyal to the High House unto death, to serve the King faithfully, and to defend the realm with all my strength. If I be forsworn, may Azos’ holy wrath strip the flesh from my bones.”
Aroki gripped the younger buck’s paws as he said in his carrying tones, “I, Aroki son of Nolki, pledge before the Pantheon to be as a father to Chassi son of Foli, to be his brother in arms and his friend in hardship. If I be forsworn, may Azos’ holy wrath strip the flesh from my bones.” He grinned as the crowd cheered. “Rise, my Lord Earl.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” There were more cheers as the two bucks kissed each other on the cheek as a sign of respect. As Chassi stood, the King escorted him to the dais where the other members of the High House waited.
“My wife, Queen Falra.”
The buck bowed low. “Your Majesty.”
Falra acknowledged him with a gracious nod, then gave Trasta a mischievous look. The younger doe ignored her.
“My eldest, Crown Prince Meki.”
“Your Highness.”
“My Lord.”
Chassi smiled. “I am told that Your Highness is a very scholarly fellow. I would consider it an honor to challenge you to a game of shash at your convenience.”
Meki’s ears flicked. Shash was a game of strategy that required a player to anticipate his opponent’s attacks or counters sometimes three moves ahead. He broke into a calculating grin and extended a paw. “You have a match, Earl Chassi,” and the two shook paws.
“Princess Trasta, General of the Armies of Shuga.”
“Your Highness.”
“My Lord.”
Trasta waited. It was usual for a buck to compliment her about something – her eyes, her hair – but this fellow merely smiled as her father escorted him away.
***
“It was very odd,” the elk doe said a few days later. “He just looked through me. Not like the normal bucks, who all melt away at my hooves.” She took a sip of wine and looked across the table. “Halvrika?”
“Hm?”
“Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”
“Yes, Princess.” The raccoon looked tired. “I’ve just been . . . “
“I was going to ask how your training was going – “ She started backward as the sow practically leaped out of her chair, waving her paws frantically.
“For the love of Azos, Trasta, don’t say anything!” Halvrika tried to look everywhere at once, even under her feet. “She’s been attacking me whenever she feels like it. Even when I sleep. I have to check under my bed twice every night, and even then I can’t trust the shadows.” She took a gulp of her wine and set the cup down on the table. “I have to be partly in the Writ at all times.”
“Why?”
“A war-mage does,” she replied. “Our first spar, and she cut through my wards like cheese, and laughed at me while she did it! Remember when I joked that the reason Master Maffa seemed so comfortable when you were out campaigning?”
Trasta thought. “Yes. You said it was because she was feline, and they can – “
“Sleep anywhere. Yes. But I know her secret.” She leaned in close, her features haggard as she looked wide-eyed at the Princess.
“It’s because she never sleeps.”
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 249 x 568px
File Size 21.2 kB
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