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B1C5 - The Aftermath

County Wycliffe

The gate guards waved Henry into Count Edmund’s estate. He had been in the County several times over the years as he had to pass through it to reach Gremelda from his own lands in the Western Marshes.

It was on one of those trips that his son Julian first met Katherine. That thought brought with it a stab of pain, their recent deaths still affecting him like a physical ailment. Pushing the memory aside the best he could. Henry focused on the here and now, on the grandson he could see waiting for him near the house’s front door.

A footman rushed forward to take the reins while Henry dismounted his horse. He ran his hand down the horse’s side affectionately. A moment later, Q joined him, and looked to his grandfather for permission before touching the beast. He kept to its side, cautious around its large steel-shod hooves as he pat the horse’s flank.

A stable boy ran around the side of the horse and waited until Henry addressed him. “Take care of him. He’s a fine horse and deserves a fresh apple and some oats,”

“Yes, my lord,” the boy said. Taking the reins from the footman and leading the beast toward the stables.

Reaching over, Henry gave Q’s shoulder a squeeze. “Were you waiting for me? Or were you heading off into trouble?”

Q had become withdrawn emotionally and more reticent since their evening vigil a month prior. It was to be expected, but that didn’t mean his family wouldn’t try to draw out the free-spirited boy they were so used to seeing.

“I needed a break. Grandfather decided it was time to teach me the art of business for when I inherit… but I’m having a hard time following his lectures.”

Yea, Henry thought, I guess the boy will inherit all of this much sooner than he should have. My lands as well.

A question from Q jerked Henry from his musings. “Grandfather, if I do not have the aptitude for business, would you teach me to fight?”

Henry snorted and dropped down to eye level, getting a better look at his grandson’s face. The boy’s eyes were red from either crying or exhaustion. His face was drawn, and his cheekbones were far more pronounced than they had been two weeks prior. He’s probably not eating or sleeping much anymore .

“To start. You’re learning from one of the best businessmen in the kingdom. Don’t doubt your intelligence if you struggle to understand everything he has to teach you at this stage. You’re only twelve years years old, Q. Give it time. But fighting… are you sure you want to learn what it means to wage war? It is not forgiving in its lessons or easy to leave behind once you start down that road.”

“I’m sure. Will you teach me to fight like you and Father?”

Henry signed, “Knowing how to fight didn’t save your father, son.”

The boy stared at his feet for a long moment, and a small shudder passed through his slight frame. When Q looked up and met his gaze, Henry could see the fire smoldering behind his hazel eyes. Like the leftover coals from last night’s fire, just before being stoked to life. “But he died protecting my mother. I think… I think if I had to die… I would be OK if I did it protecting someone I love.”

Henry’s throat constricted, squeezing hard on the knot caught within. He knew that if he had been present during his son’s trial, that he would have fought. Fought and died, most likely, but knew all too well what Q was saying. “Aye—It would be hard for me to argue with that, son.” Clearing his throat, Henry decided to change the subject, “So, what will you do as a master of war and business? Will you follow in my footsteps as Lord Marshal some day?”

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Henry watched as a series of strong expressions played across his grandson’s face, forming into an expression he’d never seen before. “No, Grandfather. I will protect those that I love. But the rest of the realm can take care of itself.”

The pain and anger behind the words sent another stab of loss through Henry. With a shock, he realized that by stepping down as the Lord Marshal, he was effectively choosing to do the same thing. Leaving the realm to prosper or burn on its own. Two peas in a pod, the two of us are.

With nothing left to say , they made their way into the house. They found Count Edmund in his study. Ed looked up from the stack of papers on his desk. Rising to his feet, he reached out to trade grips with his old friend. “Come, come, take a seat. I let him out for a break and he comes back with guests.” Ed said with a laugh, gesturing to a pair of leather-backed armchairs set before the empty fireplace.

Q stood awkwardly just inside the room. Ed noticed his grandson’s discomfort and waved at the desk he’d had made for Q’s studies. “Sit down, son. It’s not like you wouldn’t have listened from the hall, now is it?” Q blushed slightly, but rushed to his seat before either man changed their mind.

“You’re back earlier than we expected. Did you meet with the king?” Ed asked as he took his seat.

Henry barked out a laugh. “No, the coward wouldn’t even face me. He sent a servant in his place to tell the council he wouldn’t be attending. I left the Lord Marshal's brooch sitting on the table and left the message that he would need to find a new fool to clean up his mess the next time he wanted to make trouble.”

Settling deeper into the chair, Henry looked askance at Ed, expecting the next piece of news to pique his interest, “Duke Windbag tried to get me to stay for the meeting anyway, they planned to discuss the sickness and how our healers are powerless to fight it.”

Ed’s eyes lit and he proceeded to ask several technical questions that Henry was unable to answer. “It always irked me when they told to stay out of mage matters,” said Henry. “In this, I must admit my ignorance. What makes this sickness different from a normal cough? Why can’t it be healed?”

Ed sat back, his brow furrowed in thought. “I have traded letters with several old acquaintances from the Council. As you can imagine, studying this disease is their highest priority right now. And I do believe that it is a disease, not an ordinary sickness. They have plenty of theories, but no solid evidence to substantiate them.” Ed paused, his eyebrows coming together in a thoughtful frown. “Actually, you may be able to shed light on a few of my own suspicions.”

His statement was met with a raised eyebrow. So, he elaborated.

“The first reported cases were all within the expedition that went north with the prince. It started to spread when the mages and nobles returned to the Gremelda, and then the disease spread throughout the realm when they continued on to their own lands. We know that much, but you were able to see it firsthand. What can you remember?”

Henry thought back to the weeks preceding his sprint back to the capital. The first time he could remember anyone being sick was when his path crossed with the prince while he fled south in defeat. “That fits with what I saw passing through the prince’s escort. I even asked a man if he was unwell. He said it was just a cold, and that sort of thing happens regularly in an army camp. It wasn’t until the health of some of our Core mages deteriorated that it was brought back to my attention.”

Ed sat forward and nodded in agreement. “Exactly, now tell me if I’m mad or if this makes sense to you. A new disease, never before seen in Rivenna. Is contracted by the first expedition we’ve sent into Alden in nearly 200 years.”

Henry frowned and smoothed down his graying mustache absentmindedly.

“Now, this is where you will have to bear with me. What if—what if, in those 200 hundred years, Alden discovered this disease and figured out a way to weaponise it against us, specifically against our mages?”

Henry’s hand froze and his eyes narrowed as he mentally reviewed the after-action reports he’d received on the trip south. Mumbling to himself as he thought, “Stars falling from the sky… the night raid. Whatever it was they did… They managed it during the night raid. Stars above, they may have been targeting the prince directly. Chance and luck are the only reasons that fool didn’t catch the sickness himself. ” Whipping his head up, he met Ed’s eyes.

“Do you understand what this would mean for the kingdom if what you suspect is true?”

Ed’s gaze turned to Q where he sat watching the two men, confusion and concern marring his brow.

“Yes, my friend, I do. I am only able to sleep at night thanks to one question. If the Aldenians have had access to this weapon, why have they not used it before now?”

Ed let Henry work his way through logic behind his question. It didn’t take long, and the slight loosening of the tension in his shoulders was apparent. “It’s likely because they couldn’t. It must be something they could only use once.”