Firebrand

Ignoring all the dignitaries, both Khivan and Asterian, who looked at them, Eleanor gave Martel a tight embrace as they met on the outskirts of the encampment. “Did anyone give you trouble?”

He shook his head with a smile. “A bit of spellwork and it was done. No hassle.”

“Good. Not that I doubted your abilities.”

Martel glanced around them; Padmani had left, presumably to report to his superiors. “And here? What’s the situation?”

“Lots of activity, mostly from the king’s own guards, but I cannot say to what purpose exactly. They have told us nothing except asked us to wait,” she related.

Padmani returned. “The shah bids you join him in his tent.” He had the same nervous energy as this morning, appearing in their courtyard. “I can’t believe I’m meeting His Majesty,” he mumbled as they began walking through the camp.

“He’s just a man, like our emperor. Once you’ve imprisoned them, the shine goes off,” Martel remarked, prompting a shocked look from the Khivan.

“Martel,” Eleanor said lightly, “do not jest once we are inside the tent.”

“I’d never dream of it.” Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on novel⁂fire.net

The scene was much like yesterday, except a lack of courtiers. The king, flanked by several guards, sat on his gilded chair as Martel and Eleanor entered; Padmani had not been allowed entry.

“I am told that you saved my city, Sir Martel.”

Staring at the golden mask, the battlemage wondered what face remained underneath; was it ravaged by leprosy, and would a Sindhian elixir procured from the Asterians restore it? Or could it at best halt the progression of the disease but nothing more? Aware that he could not ask any questions, Martel simply bowed his head. “I did.”

“Once our enemy, today you proved our friend. A good omen for the peace to come.” The king’s voice was raspy, suggesting advanced age – or another symptom of illness, perhaps both. “Such a deed must be rewarded. Tell me what you desire.”

Martel dearly wished he could ask Eleanor’s advice; he needed nothing, and he could think of nothing. If anything was possible, he would ask for the ban on magic to be removed, but he imagined the monarch had more like gold or trinkets in mind. Moments passed in silence until it began to feel awkward, and Martel seized the first thing that came to mind. “A memorial,” he blurted out.

“Your service to us will not be forgotten, if that is your fear.”

“Oh, not about this. On the shore of the Savena, the eastern bank. Our legion used to camp there,” he explained, the idea taking form. “I should like a memorial for Legio X Astra. To remember not only the soldiers who died, but that they had the courage to end an unjust war.”

The king slowly turned his mask toward a servant standing to his right, and he nodded slowly. “So be it. And should any man of your legion or their descendants wish to make pilgrimage to this memorial, I declare they have an eternal right to be allowed passage. Let us all remember the war and thereby celebrate the peace.”

Feeling uncomfortable in a situation that required eloquence, Martel simply bowed his head again.

“To that end, tomorrow we shall sign the treaty as intended, and the celebration planned for tomorrow eve shall take place as well. We will not allow those bent on death and misery to interfere,” the king declared. He inclined his head toward his visitors, and Martel understood that they were dismissed.

Another carriage ride in silence back to the house before they could separate from the other Asterians to be alone. “That was thoughtful, what you asked the king for.”

Martel took his chair to the balcony to sit while enjoying the sun. “All I could think of in the moment. I would have asked you for ideas, but it didn’t seem allowed.”

She smiled, leaning back into their bed. “Your idea was just fine, my dear captain prefect.”

“What a day. I wonder if it’ll ever be discovered who was behind the plot. And why – does someone hate the thought of peace so much, they were ready to burn everything to the ground?”

“The king’s position is vulnerable,” Eleanor considered. “Some believe the peace terms are too lenient, considering we started the war. They would be happy to get rid of the king and gain an excuse for renewed hostilities. It is no wonder he feels it necessary to conceal his illness; opposition to him would undoubtedly increase, should they know of his weakened state.”

Martel frowned. “Who are they? And how do you know this?”

“Because I talk to the others in the house. As for whom, do you truly care about the intricacies of Khivan politics and their factions?”

He closed his eyes, feeling the spring sun. “I guess not.” His thoughts wandering idly, he considered that their work in Khiva would soon be done, and then they could leave. Their ship would probably take them to Morcaster first, which was fine; from there, they could decide their next step. And Martel would not mind spending a few days in the capital, seeing familiar faces.

Assuming, of course, that Wulfstan had not left long ago aboard the ship; Martel had no idea if the vessel remained in port. “Will we have the ship at our disposal?”

“We do.”

“It’s still in port, two fivedays later?”

“It is.”

“How do you know? I haven’t seen the slightest sign of that spy since we got here.”

She raised her head to send him a look. “Because I talk to the others, dear.”

“Yes, yes. It’ll be good to leave. I never thought I’d say this, but I’d rather be on a ship than cooped up inside a house.”

“My sentiment as well. Though I never had any issue being aboard a ship myself. How much do you have left of your remedy? For seasickness?”

Martel groaned. “Forget what I said.”