Guild Mage 103

Chapter 103: Tidings

A pounding on the door spiked through Liv’s head like an iron chisel.  Her mouth tasted foul, like a mountain squirrel had crawled inside while she slept, died, and then rotted for a week.  She rolled over onto her side, pulling the blankets over her head, to make the pounding go away, and found herself up against another person.

Another naked person.

In her bed.

Dim memories of the night before blossomed slowly, in fragments: laughing and drinking over dinner with Cade, stumbling back to High Hall under a starry sky, a goodnight kiss at the door, and then the spontaneous decision to pull him inside.  A succession of images, feelings, tastes and sounds bubbled to the surface, all of them wrapped in the fuzzy, warm blanket of last evening’s wine.  She could feel her cheeks and the tips of her ears burning in embarrassment, hot as coals.  Whatever Liv had been expecting, it hadn’t quite been - that.  

“I’m sorry, m’lady,” Thora said, over the sound of the door hinges opening, “but there’s someone here to see you, and he won’t - oh!”

“Livara, you need to wake up,” a man’s voice came, along with the sound of boots on the floor and oh trinity, there were people coming into the room.

Liv sat up, clutching the blankets to her chest, to see Thora, Wren, and of all people Inkeris ka Ilmari crowding through the doorway into her bedchamber.  They were uniformly wide-eyed, presumably at the sight of the snoring lump of man in the bed at her side, though their expressions ranged from the lady’s maid’s shock and horror, to Wren’s amused cackle, and finally to Keri, who looked nothing but serious.  Dead serious, and positively grave.

“Out,” Liv croaked.  “All of you, out.”  Her stomach turned at the sudden motion of sitting, and she realized that she was going to throw up.  “Chamber pot,” she groaned.

“What?” Thora said.  She’d put a hand up in front of her eyes, as if she didn’t want to look at the bed.

“Chamber pot!” Liv shouted.  She half fell, half rolled out of bed, too concerned with the contents up her stomach coming up to care that she was entirely naked at the moment.  Half the blankets came with her in a knot, causing a grumpy groan from the other side of the bed, but it was Wren who got there in time with the chamber pot.

They were old fashioned, now, and mostly unnecessary with the enchanted pipes and garderobes in High Hall, but whoever decided these things at the college had determined to keep one in each student’s room, tucked under the bed, perhaps for just such an emergency as this.  Liv threw up the half-digested remains of dinner along with a greater portion of two bottles of wine than she evidently should have had, and Wren held her hair back out of her face while she heaved and coughed and spit.  Somewhere during the process, the room emptied out, leaving them alone.

“This is so embarrassing,” Liv complained, once she’d had a moment to catch her breath.  

“Happens to all of us sooner or later,” Wren said, bringing a cup of water over.  Just water, Liv found, with not even a trace of wine in it.

“Is this even safe?” Liv asked.

“It comes out of the tap in the bath chamber,” Wren said.  “From the cisterns on the roof.  Shouldn’t have anything but rainwater in it.  Better if we boiled it, probably, but I don’t think you need more wine right now.  Wash your mouth out, at least, and you’ll feel better.”

Liv accepted the cup, swirled the water around her mouth, then spit it into the chamber pot.  “I think I made a big mistake,” she said.

“You wouldn’t be the first to do that, either,” Wren told her.  “Anything left in there, or can you stand up?  We should get you dressed before things get any worse out there.”

Finally able to focus on something other than the roiling of her stomach, Liv could hear raised men’s voices out in the sitting room, and more besides, a rising cacophony that boded only trouble.  She lurched to her feet, swayed, and let Wren help her into a shift and skirt.  Anything more, Liv decided, could wait until after she’d had a chance to get under that glorious hot water in the bath chamber.

When Liv pushed open the door to the sitting room, she found Sidonie and Edith seated on one of the cushioned couches, while Keri and Cade faced each other over the low tea table at the center of the room.

“ - she’s going to be my wife, I have a right to know why you’re here,” Cade was insisting, though from Keri’s flat expression, it didn’t look to Liv like he had a chance of getting what he wanted.

“Neither of you should even be here,” Sidonie scolded them both.

“I think that particular ship has sailed,” Edith remarked, raking her eyes over Cade, who’d managed to pull on a pair of breeches and a linen shirt.  The rest of his clothing was piled on the floor, including his boots and belt.

“Will all of you just be silent for a moment!” Liv exclaimed, putting one hand to her throbbing temple.  “Too.  Loud.”

“Had a bit much to drink last night, did we?” Edith nearly taunted her.  “I suppose that explains what you were thinking, at least, if not Lord Talbot.”

“I suspect we can all guess what he was thinking,” Wren remarked, peeling off from Liv’s side to find a place against the wall.

“Livara,” Keri said.  “I have a message from your father.  It is urgent, and I suspect you are going to want to hear it alone.”

His words and tone dropped into Liv’s already sick stomach like a ball of ice.  Something was wrong, and she immediately began trying to guess what it was.  Was it Gretta, perhaps?  The woman was getting quite old.  But why would Keri be the one her father sent - wouldn’t he have simply come himself?  Or wouldn’t Lady Julianne have been the one to send a messenger?  Had there been another attack in the north?

“And as her betrothed, I have every right to be in the room,” Cade broke in.  

“You’re not,” Liv said, before she could stop herself, and the entire room went quiet.

“What?” Cade said.

“I agreed you could court me,” Liv said.  “I never agreed I would wed you.”

“But you - we -” Cade gestured helplessly at the door behind Liv, and the bedchamber beyond that.

“We’re supposed to have a few years here to get to know each other,” Liv said.  “And then make a decision.”

“That’s getting to know each other now, is it?” Edith crowed.

“Six years of courting,” Cade said.  “Of writing letters, and - isn’t that enough time to know?  I’ve put off everyone else who asked, while I waited for you.”

Liv set her jaw.  “I’m not having this conversation right now,” she said, firmly.  “I will hear what Inkeris has to say, but not alone.  Wren is my bodyguard here, Keri.  She can hear whatever it is you have to say.”  With that, she turned and marched back into her bed chamber, with only a little bit of swaying.

“You heard her,” Wren said.  “Everyone else can wait outside.  And that means out on the landing, lover-boy.”  

Liv considered sitting on the bed, and then wrinkled her nose.  Instead, she took one of the chairs in the room, and settled into that.  Thora scurried in, snatched up the reeking chamber pot, and absconded with it before Wren closed the door behind herself and Keri.

“What happened?” Liv asked.

“I’ve just come from Kelum Kedim,” Keri began, and Liv translated it in her head as ‘Hall of Ancestors.’  Not any place she’d ever been, but she thought she recalled her grandfather mentioning it once or twice.  “The elders had gathered there to discuss the information you obtained from your captive,” Keri continued, and Liv very deliberately did not look at Wren.  If he’d known who she was, he would have already said something, Liv reasoned.  And based on her father’s reaction, it would only cause another argument to bring it up now.

“I’m going to assume you mean the elders of more than one house,” Liv pressed.  “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what Kelum Kedim is.”

“Yes, you’ve been raised among humans,” Keri realized.  “It is the place where our people made peace after the war.  When the houses that joined the rebellion against the Vædim, and the ones who remained loyal and fought for the old gods, agreed to set aside the conflict and become one people again.  It is a sacred place, where no tools of war are permitted, under the terms of the ancient truce.”

“It sounds like a tempting target,” Wren remarked.

Keri’s mouth moved as if he was chewing on a particularly sour fruit, and then he managed to answer.  “It seems you are not the only one to feel that way,” he said.  “House Iravata launched an ambush on the elders.  They brought a wyrm, as well as a great many archers, concealed by magic.  They killed or wounded a great many people, Liv.  I had to leave before we were even certain how many of the wounded would survive.”

“Your son?” Liv asked, remembering her vision of the blonde boy rushing into Keri’s arms.  “Is he safe?”

“Rei is fine,” Keri told her.  “But your grandfather is not, Livara.”

Sound faded, replaced by only the thump of Liv’s heart and a kind of buzzing in her ears.  She could see Keri’s mouth moving, but his words didn’t make it through, somehow.  Auris Ka Syvä was ancient - he remembered the war against the old gods, and he’d survived for over a thousand years since.

“What happened to him?” Liv managed to get out.

“He took an arrow,” Keri said.  “Given the proclivities of House Iravata, I suspect it would have been dipped in wyrm venom.  He also pushed himself to use a level of magic that was, in all honesty, breathtaking.  Your father and your grandmother are taking him home to Kelthelis, and your father asked me to come and bring you to them.”

“Of course.” Liv stood up, grabbed her wand from where she’d left it on the bedside table, and then stopped.  “I need to clean up,” she said.  “I need - Wren, could you see that someone’s sent to have Steria saddled?  And I need Thora in the bath-chamber, now.  I need winter clothes and my armor.  Blood and shadows, you need winter clothing too, don’t you?”

“I think it best if I remain here,” Wren said.  “I’m sure Master Inkeris here can see you to your parents’ home safely, and I’ll keep an eye on things here for you.”

Liv groaned.  “The mercenaries.  I won’t forget about them this time - I need to talk to Master Jurian before we leave, about what happened yesterday.”

“I will remain outside on the landing while you prepare yourself,” Keri said, and opened the door to slip out into the sitting room.

☙

What followed was something of a desperate scramble to do entirely too many things at once.  Thora helped Liv scrub herself clean and wash her hair, and then to dress as quickly as she could in warm wool stockings and a double set of winter skirts.  Over that went the enchanted armor, the belt with her sheathed wand, and the set of bracelet and rings with the chains running between them, on Liv’s left hand.  The pearl she slipped into her purse.

“I want you to stay here with Wren,” Liv told her maid, when they were finished.  “We always have to fight our way from the waystone at the tomb out onto the open ice.  I’m not worried about Keri, but you aren’t a warrior, Thora.”

“Don’t worry about me,” her maid said.  “I’ll stay right here and get your things sorted.  This room’s something of a wreck.”  She paused.  “You know there’s going to be a lot of gossip when you get back, don’t you?”

“I haven’t done anything that Matthew and Triss didn’t do,” Liv shot back.

“Lord Matthew and Lady Beatrice were going to be wed,” Thora pointed out.

“I’ll deal with it when I come back,” Liv decided.  “This is more important.”  With that, she opened the door and stepped out into the sitting room.  To her relief, it was empty, though both Keri and Cade were waiting on the landing, along with a knot of girls at the couches on the far side of the staircase who were very deliberately pretending to not watch or listen.  Liv counted not only Edith, but Florence and Helewise as well, and they seemed to have invited a few of their friends from the other dormitory up.

“If you’re leaving, I should go with you,” Cade said.  “Just give me a moment to go and get my travelling things.”

“No, stay here,” Liv said.  She couldn’t explain it, but the thought of bringing Cade north just filled her with a sense of wrongness.  “We’ll talk when I get back.”

“But -” 

“When I get back,” Liv repeated.  “You have a horse at the stables, Keri?”

He nodded, and stepped up to walk by her side as she headed for the stairs.  “I do.  I left my spear there, as well, so that I wouldn’t frighten anyone.”  Together, they hurried down the stairs, out through the foyer, and into the courtyard at the center of the campus, just in time to meet Wren leading Professor Jurian over.

“What’s all this about, then?” her master asked.  “Today is supposed to be for rest and recovery, Apprentice.”

“It’s my grandfather,” Liv said, the words bringing back a bit of the sick feeling in her stomach.  “I need to go north, my father asked Keri to come and get me.  But I need to talk to you before I go.  Can you walk with us down to the stables?”

Jurian sighed, but fell in beside them.  “Students are not technically supposed to leave campus without permission or supervision.  I’ll clear it with the archmagus.  What is it you need to tell me?”

“Those mercenaries yesterday,” Liv asked.  “Did Venetia submit her report?”

“She said they were idiots who’d gotten in over their heads, and lost at least one man before your team rescued them,” Jurian told her.

Liv shook her head.  “They were looking for something at the reef,” she said.  “I marked the spot by slashing a sign into the coral, but I didn’t have time to see what was there.”  She glanced at Jurian’s face to see that he’d narrowed his eyes.

“They won’t be able to get back there until the next king tide,” the professor reasoned.  “That gives us time to do a bit of research.  How long until you return?”

“I don’t know,” Liv admitted.  “It depends -’

“Of course.”  Jurian stopped, and placed a hand on Liv’s shoulder, drawing her to a halt, as well.  “You must see to your family.  I know we don’t have that sort of relationship, but - just know there are people here who care about you, Liv.  Whatever happens, you don’t need to handle it alone.  Now, you must get to the waystone, I imagine, and I need to track down the archmagus and tell him what you’ve told me.  Safe travels, and don’t worry about what happens here while you’re gone.  I’ll see to it.”

“Thank you,” Liv said.  On impulse, she leaned in and hugged the professor, then turned and hurried back down the path to the stables.

“Don’t get yourself killed,” Wren called after her, and Liv half turned to give the huntress a wave.

The stable boys must have indeed gotten word they were coming, and Liv made a note to thank  Wren and Thora again once she was back.  Steria had been saddled and led out of her stall, along with another northern horse Liv guessed belonged to Keri.  He gave her a boost up into the saddle, and they turned their horses down the road into Coral Bay, and from there west down to the shore.

The townspeople had only half disassembled the wooden barricades and aid stations from the king tide, but the long expanse of sandbars and mud flats had been replaced by a gentle bay of swells and breakers.  The white waystone at the end of the path was no longer entirely exposed, but covered in a few fingers of warm, clear water that splashed around the horses hooves as they walked out.

“What are you all doing here?” Liv asked.

The waystone was not empty.  Arjun was there, seated on the saddle behind Rosamund, who was riding a beautiful bay southern horse.  Tephania and Sidonie were there, as well, each mounted on a mare of their own.

“You didn’t think we’d let you go by yourself, did you?” Rosamund told her, with a grin.

Liv shot a glare at Sidonie, who hunched her shoulders for a moment before straightening in her saddle.  “Yes, I told them,” she admitted.

“It isn’t like any of the waystones in Lucania,” Liv warned them.  “We’ll be coming out immediately into a fight, right in the shoals of a rift.  And it will be colder than anywhere you’ve ever been before.”

“We wore cloaks,” Tephania said.  Liv bit her lip; the cloaks were not nearly enough, she knew.

“You may need a healer,” Arjun said.  “And you know what the professors say about going into rifts.  You want a full team, at least.  Not only two.”

It was odd.  The thought of bringing Cade north had made Liv profoundly uncomfortable in a way that she couldn’t put words to - perhaps because he’d demanded to go, as if it was his right.  But her friends being here, just waiting for her, as if of course they wouldn’t let her go alone - that felt different.  It felt warm, somehow.  Comforting.

“Alright,” Liv said, and slid down out of her saddle.  She walked over to the Vædic sigil that marked the Tomb of Celris.  There, she knelt down, touched the stone with her palm, and called her mana forth.

“I’m coming, grandfather,” Liv whispered.  The waystone began to shine.