III. HOURS OF WEALTH

  Aichlan stood eyeing the cigar the servant had handed him. He was versed enough to know that it was meant for after dinner, and noted how his Admiral already smoked upon his, having lit it in the fireplace. It really was not that big of an issue; even so, Aichlan was not much of a smoker and had no idea what to do with the thing. The sitting room was fairly small compared to the others in the palace, but the view of the indoor gardens was breathtaking, especially considering the snow still piled man high outside. Aichlan excused himself from Taryn and Madden’s company, who were intently carrying on a conversation and did not seem to mind or notice.

   He stood before a wall of glass and looked down to the gardens below as he pocketed his cigar. Mages and gardeners tended to the various exotic floras before closing up for the night. The Queen had hired on several of Alice’s fellow students as permanent staff. No doubt these were the practitioners of the art of geomancy, Alice could likely tell him for certain, if he could find her. He smiled to himself, it was usually her who sought him out, not the other way around.

  He glanced back towards the Admiral, and noticed the woman, Siegrun, looking quickly away, she had been watching him. There was something peculiar, and oddly familiar about that woman, Aichlan just couldn’t put his finger on it. As far as he knew, he had never met a woman with green hair before, but it most likely wasn’t always that color. As he recalled, the Rhodarcian mage corps had the habit of dying their hair color to match their elemental affinity. There was something in her face however; her eyes were incessantly familiar to him.

  “Oi, Aichlan!”

  Aichlan turned his attention to Francis, who held up his cigar for attention. “Me an’ da lieutenant ‘ere are goin’ to dine elsewhere if it’s all da same. Don’t think deir majesties much care fer mi ilk fer some reason.”

  Aichlan nodded with a smile. Though he wouldn’t peg Odell as the type to order a man’s head on a platter, Aislyn was another matter. He found himself becoming more and more aware of her mean streak. In reality, she was just very politically minded, embodying many of the traits her predecessor Laelianus was praised for. Something that made her all the more frightening, despite her adamant refusal that she had anything incommon with the former King.

  Aichlan was dismayed to catch Siegrun’s sidelong glance as she left. He wondered why Francis had taken to associating with that woman at all, especially since she was a Rhodarcian knight. There was no shortage of bad blood between the nations after the war, though Aichlan couldn’t be sure who he should be more concerned about: The Admiral or Siegrun?

  Beside him, Maleah leaned against the glass with her arms folded across her chest, a far off look in her eyes as she held a smoking cigarillo in her mouth. There was absolutely no telling what went through that one’s head. Her ill humor could be traced back to the attack a few months earlier, though it seemed worse of late. She, like many other soldiers he knew, turned to booze as her remedy. Sadly, it could only staunch the bleeding so much for so long. As her commander, he knew he should intervene, or at least direct her brother to do so; but neither was the most approachable person in Marquez.

  Órfhlaith approached with her usual tell of jangling jewelry. She still wore the loose-fitting silks and geometric designs of Rhode, despite the weather. Her hair was bundled in a high ponytail, though the ebon locks still fell to the floor and came to a rest atop the train of her gown. She came to a stop beside him and snapped her fingers to light her own cigar before she turned back to the gardens below.

  “You do realize Senator, that those are meant for after dinner.”

  Órfhlaith smiled and looked up at him from the corner of her eye, she was sober at least, a definite plus.

  “I have a feelin’ we’re gonna be here awhile.” She exhaled a thick cloud and cradled her right elbow in her left hand dangling the cigar before her. “Queen Aislyn's still busy cleaning up house.” She laughed and took another pull.

  Aichlan sighed, knowing full well what she meant but not wishing to acknowledge it. He preferred not to think of her that way, not the young woman who was a stowaway not six months ago. If he did, honor or some other foolish sense of comraderie would force him to confront the young Queen regarding her abandonment of his sometimes friend and former King. It was still difficult for him to think of Laelianus as being dead, and there was too much on his place as is to be thinking of demanding an inquiry.

  Órfhlaith shook a bang from her face, and dumped the ash on the floor. “Where’s yer wife?”

  Aichlan blushed; if he had been drinking, he would have choked. “Ashe is with the Cardinal. And we aren’t married.” He considered tacking on the obligatory ‘yet’ but knew by Órfhlaith’s look it was a given.

  The women of Rhode certainly were something.

  “Once the child’s born we’ll take care of all that.”

  “And don’t I get any say in it?”

  Órfhlaith frowned and ashed her cigar on the floor again. “My boy, if ye wanted to run ye should have done that long ago.” She slapped him jovially upon the shoulder, perhaps a bit harder than intended, or not. “You’re practically one of mine now.” She left Aichlan with those cryptic and oddly ominous words hanging between them.

  Ever since it was disclosed that Ashe was pregnant with his child, Órfhlaith had taken a personal interest in him. He had even received a letter from Ashe’s childhood friend, Hratchouhi, another member of the council. Eth had told him he had received a near legendary status and had nothing to worry about, but that only piqued his interest. He was curious as to why all of the sudden fuss was about.

  Behind them, the air crackled with electricity, and a flash of lightning blinded those in the room and elicited several startled shrieks. The flash was accompanied by the thick smell of ozone and a high-pitched buzzing sound, as well as Alice, who stood on a slightly scorched and sizzling patch of rug. Upon realizing who and what happened a chorus of mumbled curses and gestures went up from all present, Alice smiled sheepishly at the response and mess.

  “Sorry, that one’s new…” It was then business as usual as she approached Aichlan, dusting herself off. “How are things on the front General?” She asked with great humor.

  “Well enough. Where have you been?” Aichlan gestured to the scorched rug. “And that entrance?”

  “I’ve been tending to other matters.” Alice retorted self-importantly. “As for the entrance…practice makes perfect as the saying goes.”

  Apparently, as Aichlan came to realize, it was common for mages and sages to travel in such a manner. However, given the awe and reverences her peers paid to her, it was not common for one with Alice’s level of training to do so. She had confided in him that despite her abilities, she was in no way a match for that witch or Osric. Aichlan was relieved, as he had no intention of pitting her against the two even if she did stand a chance. This would just be one less argument to have, he hoped. Aichlan still couldn’t help but feel pride for the woman, though he couldn’t place why. They had grown close, no matter how much she irritated him to no end. Perhaps they had formed a familial bond of some sorts.

  “What other matters?” He asked incredulously, Alice had the habit of making the mundane sound far grander than they deserved.

  Before she was able to answer in her matter-of-fact way, Órfhlaith made her way back over in a cloud of smoke and laughter. “Ah!” Alice said, her face lighting up. “Just who I was looking for.”

  Alice removed her cloak, and thrust it into Aichlan’s hands as she unslung her messengers bag before she handed it to Órfhlaith. Inside were an impossible number of scrolls and letters- given the bags size at least- as well as a few battle worn ledgers. Órfhlaith accepted one of the letters and carefully melted the wax seal. She unfolded the parchment and began to read over the letter, her face impassive.

  “So, they’ve decided to move south…” She said at length, almost to herself. “Yes, apparently, they seek to rebuild Eefrit, or occupy the ruins in the mountains at the mouth of the River Salamander.” She nodded absently as she folded up the document.

  “Ruins? What’s this all about?” Aichlan asked, his interest piqued.

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  “From before the collapse. There were cities along the fire plains and in the mountains, near the marsh. Mind you, this was all back when the terrain was a bit more forgiving and before the marshlands had death in their name.” She withdrew another letter and handed it to Aichlan as she continued going through Alice’s bag.

  Aichlan took the letter and quizzically examined the elegantly pinned yet alien script penned upon the front. “Huh?”

  “It’s for Ashe.” Órfhlaith clarified, closing the bag. “Be sure she gets that for me.”

  “And where are you off to?”

  Órfhlaith took a drag from her cigar and adjusted the bag upon her shoulder. “To find Donough and Enyo, we’ve got some things to discuss before merrymakin’ an all.” She clenched the cigar between her teeth and turned to wave as she walked away. “Daen’t worry, I’ll be back.”

  “What the bloody hell was that all about?” Aichlan asked absently as he turned over the sealed letter in his hands.

  “Didn’t you know?” Alice badgered. “Órfhlaith’s the council leader now, like a chancellor or something.”

  Aichlan turned his stunned expression to Alice, wondering how it was she came into this knowledge.

  “Of course you wouldn’t.” She sighed in resignation. “All you do is fret over troop movements and battle strategy.”

  “Fret? Alice, it is my duty or have you forgotten that I am General?”

  “Yes, yes.” Alice waved dismissively. “Just try not to be too single minded is all. There’s a lot going on after all.”

  Aichlan felt his face redden, torn between anger and embarrassment at having the obvious stated to him by Alice of all people. And obvious it was, though she was right in her assumption that he had failed to pay attention to the greater scope of things. After the last battle, he had been so wound up in counter offensives and vengeance. Some rash decisions may have given Osric the upper hand, though that still remained to be seen.

  “How is Fiora?” He asked, attempting to change the subject.

  “I don’t know, I’ve yet to speak to her.” There was evident concern for her friend in her tone and upon her face.

  “Can you go to her?” Aichlan prodded, eager to keep the attention focused on her and to find out the extent of her new abilities.

  “No, I am not exactly sure where she is in Sorn. Even if I did, I’d have to know where I am going, as in have physically been there and know the exact location where I will come to rest.” Alice knitted her brow as she mused over some troubling thoughts, obviously wanting to say more.

  “What else aren’t you telling me?”

  Alice was silent for several moments. “I…I don’t think that our opponents are similarly limited. But how they do what they do remains a mystery. That woman cast spells with neither symbol nor incantation. No one does that. It shouldn’t be possible.” She wrapped her arms around herself in a semi-embrace and chewed upon her thumbnail. “Even Osric used abbreviated forms…” Aichlan opened his mouth to ask a question, which she anticipated. “Had he been willing and able to use the full forms, this would have in all likelihood ended in Rhode. Frankly, I am surprised it didn’t.”

  She was trembling now. Aichlan saw her for the child that she was, and it frightened him as much as it did her. Instinctively he moved in and brought her close to him, she didn’t resist his embrace and buried her face in his chest as he swayed slightly. They had lost many on that day, and the reality that they narrowly survived, survived only because their opponent was too arrogant to push the issue of their deaths struck hard. They could have very likely ended up under a pile of ash along with Kielan, Io and countless others. As the sobs came, he knew it was them that she thought of. Aichlan stroked her hair, feeling uncomfortable, though unwilling to push her away.

  Though he was loathed to admit it, the only reason he still drew breath is because Osric was preoccupied with something else. But occupied with what? Even Séverin couldn’t fully comprehend the ends his brother sought, or so he claimed. Maleah had mentioned something about waging war with heaven and freeing Abigor, but even she admitted that he was likely just trying to frighten her. One thing could be agreed upon; he was an intelligent man. And intelligent men- even the insane ones- act with a purpose and definable goal in mind.

  “You should rest. I’ll inform the Queen as to why you are absent. I am certain she’ll understand.”

  Alice shook her head, though didn’t break free of him. “No, I’ll be fine. I just need to wash up before dinner. I’ll be fine Aichlan.”

  Aichlan held her at arm’s length, and looked her over as she dried her eyes. “No worries. I fear it’ll be another hour at least…”

  Alice nodded and took a step back, she was still focused upon other things as she absently began weaving a glyph before her. “Oh and Alice!” Aichlan blurted, snatching back her attention. “Please walk.”

  The look he received in response could freeze liquor, but she acquiesced nonetheless with a wry smile. She was getting good at her teleportation feat, perhaps too good. At least the opposition wasn’t the only ones who could pull it off, though Aichlan would never dream of using her as a trump. He would take his chances with other options and hope for the best. He knew it was a mistake, getting so involved that it affected command decisions, but could not deny the significance the young woman held with him. Besides, in another light, technically Alice was his superior. He was obligated to protect and watch out for her.

  He glanced up at Maleah, she hadn’t moved the entire time, save once when she dumped a pile of ashes upon a tray the butler began to carry around. Did she know anything else regarding this mess her brother had started? Lazy wisps of smoke billowed around her head, her expression was catatonic. Her hair was much longer than it had been, and had locked up in the back much like the admiral’s, Aichlan wondered if it was intentional or simply poor grooming. It was difficult to say with her. She wore her uniform and riding boots, the norm when she bothered to dress at all. At least she bathed, that could have been a serious issue, though he doubted she did so of her own volition. He would really have to take the time to talk with her, if not regarding Osric then her current state of despondency. A task he most certainly did not look forward too.

  The doors opened as a train of nuns entered, followed by Clarissa in her official garb of office, a white silk habit and blood-red hooded robe trimmed in gold. She wore her still bright pink locks in their natural curls, which hung loosely under the hood. She had hold of Séverin’s arm, who wore the garb of an affluent Duvachellian noble: pinstriped doublet, trousers tight enough to be considered hose, heeled quarter boots and collared cape fastened with a gold chain. Ashe followed with her own entourage of palace nurses and handmaidens. She had on a shapeless nightdress and as always, her gaudy pelt cloak, with exception of the cloak it was common faire for expectant mothers, especially those at her stage. Not only was her belly swollen to bursting with child, so were her perpetually bare feet. Despite this, she shrugged of any attempts at assistance as she half waddled into the room. Aichlan lurched to aid her, but halted upon receiving a withering stare. Pride was one thing he thought, but there was no shame in a pregnant woman receiving help. Of course, he kept such thoughts to himself.

  “Stubborn cow.” Clarissa teased upon witnessing the exchange.

  Ashe responded with a rude gesture as she opened her arms to greet Aichlan in a somewhat awkward embrace due to her new girth. “You look stunning.” Aichlan said with a kiss.

  “I feel like a tha dead lef’ in tha sun, sans heat.”

  Aichlan frowned and brushed a stray lock from her face. “Don’t say such things.”

  Ashe sucked her teeth and smacked him playfully upon the arm. “‘T’was only humor, tight arse.” She looked down at the letter Aichlan still held. “Wha’s this then?”

  “Oh, it’s for you actually. Can’t read it to say from who though.” Aichlan handed her the letter and her face immediately lit up upon seeing who it was from.

  She tore it open and began to read eagerly, letting out a delighted squeal as she continued reading. “Hratchouhi is coming! She set sail a week ago.” Ashe finally said at length, barely able to contain her elation. “Says she brought you somethin’ as well.”

  It was now Aichlan’s turn to be surprised, he hardly knew the woman and as far as he knew had done nothing worthy of gifts. “Is she coming because of the baby?” Aichlan asked, as confused as Ashe was ecstatic.

  “Why else?” she replied as if he were a simpleton.

  Indeed, he was as he thought on it that certainly would be reason enough to travel. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more, that there was something else he was missing. It seemed that all of his Colby-Nau soldiers and officers knew this great secret and went about with almost indifference, though when he expressed interest in knowing whatever it was to be known they suddenly became quite cryptic.

   “Excuse me…” They both looked up to see Clarissa approach, looking slightly distressed. “Eth ‘asn’t stopped in yet ‘as ‘e?”

  Aichlan slowly shook his head, the more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t remember the last time he did see Eth. “I can’t say that I have, is something the matter?”

  Clarissa smiled hollowly, waving the thought away. “No, no. it’s just dzat I spoke to ‘im earlier, dzis morning actually, and ‘e seemed a little down. He assured me ‘e would make it to dinner.”

  The idea of Eth seeming down was somewhat concerning; he had been through quite a bit of loss this past year. “Perhaps I should go and find him then…” Aichlan volunteered.

  Ashe seemed dubious and shook her head. “Ye know that blighter, ‘ell show up drunk an’ ready ta eat in an hour or so. Don’t force ‘im, it’ll only make thin’s worse.”

  Ashe certainly didn’t seem concerned, and she supposedly knew him the better of the two of them. Aichlan shrugged as Clarissa nervously chewed on her thumbnail.

  “Hmm, you’re likely right.” Clarissa nodded and tried to abate her concerns with the logic of the argument. “Either way, there’ll be ‘ell to pay.