Something Shady
Slaide stomped down the long corridor, his black cloak flowing behind him.
He’d left the war room in a hurry, barely allowing the doors to close behind him before breaking into a brisk walk.
He moved as quickly as he could across the worn stone floor, riding the line of drawing too much attention and getting to her fast enough.
His gut told him he needed to beat the mages to the infirmary.
He wound down several hallways, each more secluded and emptier than the last. When Slaide reached the set of ancient double doors to the infirmary, he barged in without knocking.
He opened his mouth to make demands, when he was cut off by the sight before him.
Across the room, the healer Slaide recognized as Nemsen stood over the only occupied bed.
And he was not alone. Gammen and Oriss huddled beside him, the former having lowered his hood.
Those beady-eyed pricks.
The doors slammed behind him, alerting the three men to his presence. Nemsen turned abruptly, clearly not expecting more company.
“Ah! Master Elias, good to see you,” he said, closing the space between them. Slaide looked past him to where the Archmages stood, as though they were trying to absorb as much information as they could about this new pet before their little party was interrupted.
“Is that her?” Slaide asked, ignoring pleasantries.
“Who?”
“The girl,” he ground out. “The girl accused of using magic. Don’t play dumb. I’ve had enough of that today.”
Nemsen reeled back as though he’d been struck by a snake. “Right. Well, yes. You see she’s rather incapacitated at the moment. Really shouldn’t be disturbed.”
Slaide looked down at the short, bald man, rolled his eyes, and then shouldered past him, making for where the Archmages stooped. There was an oddly large orange cat sitting on her legs with its ears pinned flat.
He slid up behind them, casting a long, ominous shadow over the men and their subject.
Oriss was the first to peer over his shoulder.
He did a double take before subtly alerting Gammen to their visitor.
Gammen turned slowly to face Slaide, his skeletal face devoid of emotion.
At least act surprised I caught you defying the King.
“Ah, just the man I was hoping to see. You really should reconsider, Master Elias,” he said. “One wrong move and you could unleash who knows what on this kingdom. Gods of Caelis, all Aetherium, even. Her kind are an abomination the likes of which only we have the means to deal with.”
“Get. Out.” The muscle in his jaw flicked.
“I can’t do that, Slaide. Let us do the right thing—for everyone.” Gammen was nothing if not persistent.
Slaide stepped forward, his eyes darkening. He was tall enough to look down at the Archmage. As their chests came to touch, grazing slightly, Gammen shifted his weight. He was uncomfortable. Good. “I said get out.”
Archmage Gammen inclined his head and stared into his eyes, as though trying to get a read on the man no one understood.
Good luck with that. Then he submitted, bowing his head and replacing his hood as he stepped around Slaide.
He and Oriss gathered their things and left the room without another word.
Slaide watched them leave, his eyes landing on Nemsen, who cowered slightly under his gaze. “Master Elias, I—”
“From now on, until she is well enough to leave this room, no one enters except you or me. That includes those two and their ilk. Do we have an understanding, Nemsen?”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “Sir, if I may…”
Slaide shot him a warning glare but tempered his anger. “Sure, Nemsen. What is it? Speak freely.”
“Well, it’s just… she’s in a rather delicate state at the moment. And while I wouldn’t dare tell you what to do, I do hope you’ll heed me when I say she shouldn’t be moved or otherwise disturbed for a while.” The man wrung his hands anxiously and avoided meeting Slaide’s eyes.
Slaide sighed. “I don’t know what they told you, and I don’t know what they want with her. But I can assure you, for whatever my word is worth to you, I have no interest in those things. You’ve heard the stories. You know what I do. So, I am going to need you to just trust me on this.”
Surprisingly, Nemsen nodded. “Master Elias, I don’t want to overstep with what I am about to say.
But… while we’re on the subject of trusting one another, I wonder if you might have a moment to discuss some things going on around here…
specifically in the lower dungeons? I haven’t been down there personally, but a few of my colleagues have and the things I’ve heard are concerning. Disturbing, actually.”
Slaide blanched. He did not, in fact, know anything about whatever was going on in the lower dungeons. He could be honest, or he could put on the face everyone expected of him. So, he chose the former. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But, I can address it with Magnus and—”
“No! No. It’s not—no, that’s quite alright.” His brief outburst was disconcerting. “I figured you wouldn’t be able to tell me even if you did know.” Something had the healer out of sorts. “Do you… do you know about the salt mines?”
“I do.”
“Well, my understanding is they—that is, the King and the Council—are wanting to expand production.”
“They are, yes.” He was growing impatient. “What does this have to do with the dungeons?”
“It doesn’t. Well, not directly anyway. I overheard a conversation between two healers a few nights ago. They’ve been assigned to work on something down there. And they seem… different. Changed, maybe? Disturbed? Possessed?”
“Possessed? Nemsen.”
“I know. I know. I’m a healer. A supposed man of reason. It sounds crazy, and maybe it is.” He glanced around nervously, eyes rapidly shifting side to side. “Please, forget I said anything. If word got back to the King…”
Darkness crept over Slaide again. He wouldn’t admit he’d sensed something was going on for a while now. And he certainly wouldn’t admit he suspected he was intentionally being left out of certain meetings.
“It won’t. Not from me, anyway. If you think your colleagues seemed off, and you suspect nothing natural to be the cause, I trust your judgment.” Slaide considered his next words. “In fact, I think we could both benefit from this situation.”
Nemsen arched a brow in interest.
“Until I learn more about her, I am interested in keeping this girl out of the Magistry’s slimy paws. You’re going to help me. You’re also going to gather as much information as you can from your colleagues. Quietly. Discreetly.”
His face reflected his thoughtful consideration as his lips pursed and brows dipped.
He glanced at Hazel before continuing. “Can I ask you something, Master Elias?” He didn’t wait for an answer.
“You being who and what you are—and I mean no offense—you aren’t going to just… kill her? It’s just, if she’s a witch—”
“Something we’ve yet to see with our own eyes.
To answer the question, yes. If the time comes, I will execute her.
But if you’re worried about leaving me alone with her on that basis, you’ve nothing to fear.
I’m not going to murder her in her sleep; you have my word.
” There was no sign of insincerity on his face.
Nemsen nodded, seeming to accept the answer. “Fine, then. So, you think whatever they’re doing in the dungeons has to do with the Magistry?”
“I do.”
“You don’t like those mages much, do you?” Nemsen was nervously twisting a gold ring on his finger—a wedding ring. Slaide wondered if he had a wife and family who would miss him if anything happened.
“I do not.” It didn’t require further explanation.
Nemsen smiled and extended his hand in offering. Slaide grasped it, shaking his hand firmly. “I knew I liked you.”
Silence passed between them as they stood over Hazel, still fully sedated.
As he looked down at her, realization smacked him between the eyes.
She was the same foul-mouthed peasant woman who’d nearly gotten herself killed over someone else’s brat.
And then had the balls to challenge him over it.
And, if he was right about her, there was one other time, but…
seeing her now, he couldn’t imagine they were truly the same person.
And yet… What are you hiding? He noticed her companion, then, keeping one eye on them both from where it was curled up on her legs.
“Nemsen, what’s the deal with the cat?” Slaide inquired.
“I have not the slightest clue. He just appeared shortly after she was brought in and hasn’t really left her side since. He doesn’t bother anything, though, just seems to be keeping an eye on her.”
Interesting.
Nemsen sighed. “Master Elias, if it’s all the same to you, I was just finishing up for the night before all of this went down. I’ll need to lock everything up for the evening and bring the lighting down before I head to my quarters.”
Slaide eyed a chair in the corner. “If it’s all the same to you, I would prefer to stay. In case she wakes up.” Or in case those sleazy bastards decide to come back.
This would be the first test. How much did Nemsen really trust him?
“I—ah, alright then. I’ll just bring the braziers down a bit on my way out.
Please feel free to browse the library if you get bored.
Though, I’m not sure you’ll find the subject matter any more interesting than watching this one sleep.
Either way.” He turned to leave, waving a dismissive hand. “Good night, Master Elias.”
“Nemsen.” The man paused, turning halfway. “Call me Slaide.”
The healer smiled halfway, then nodded graciously.
“Good night then, Slaide.”
With the healer gone, Slaide turned to the cat and arched a brow. “I trust you and I will not have problems?”
In time, Slaide did in fact find himself excruciatingly bored.
He wondered if the healers kept anything truly interesting on their shelves and crossed the room to investigate.
Upon first glance, the dusty tomes appeared to be mostly compendiums of medical knowledge and herbal tinctures and remedies, but nothing of genuine interest.
His tired eyes danced across the titles one after the next, begging to find something unusual.
And then, just when he was about to return to his chair to pick at his nails some more, he spotted a peculiar book.
It was a history book, and it did not belong there.
The world’s written histories existed only in the sacred libraries at the Citadel…
except this one. Slaide pulled it from the shelf, surprised to find it free of dust. It hadn’t been there long.
Its title read The Rise and Fall of Magic: The Untold History of The Thousand Years War.
Slaide ran his fingers over the embossed leather.
Interesting to find this in the infirmary of all places.
A cough sounded from behind him, followed by a groan. Slaide stiffened, the tiny hairs along his neck rising in alarm. He chided himself for his reaction.
It was just the girl, after all. For a reason he couldn’t pinpoint, he wasn’t ready for her to wake up.
Sure, the sooner this interrogation got on with, the better, but this whole situation was messing with his head.
There was so much more at play here than just finding out if she had access to magic.
More, still, than just her success in the tournament.
Of course, he knew more than he was letting on and of course he wasn’t letting anyone—not a soul—in on his little secret.
He’d seen things. If it was, in fact, this girl who’d used magic, then he’d witnessed it before. As soon as he took in her pale skin and auburn hair, he was sure of it. They were past the realm of coincidence.
He peered over his shoulder, expecting her to be awake, but found her very much still asleep. Snoring, mouth hanging open, hair in her face kind of sleep. He laughed to himself, shaking his head. You need to get it together, letting one simple woman get into your head so much.
But was she so simple? He noticed her cat friend had taken his leave and shrugged, not making much of it.
Slaide returned to his chair with his history book and began thumbing through the pages. Most of what he’d been taught was gained from the tutors he had growing up as part of his royal education—the same as all castle youths received.
They were expected to know the basics: the major wars, the allies, enemies, major battles… and as Slaide had taken an early interest in court politics and policies, he knew about the more minor wars and skirmishes throughout their history.
He’d memorized the patterns of the Sea Wolf raids and knew the relationship with Axios was tenuous at best. The Thousand Years War, well, it was simply a war from an age gone by.
It was never discussed in detail, though admittedly Slaide hadn’t given that a second thought.
But now that he held this book in his hands, an entire written history of a war no one talked about?
Now he suspected it was more important than ever.