Word arrived the following morning while Tyrian and Cassie were having breakfast with Raven in the restaurant. Squint came bursting into the room and blurted, "The Emperor is dead!"
Everything came to a screeching halt. The Lower Generals, sitting a few tables over, looked up sharply and then shared a long look between them. As voices began to rise, Tyrian held up a hand for silence. "What is being said caused it?" he asked Squint.
"The message that Tad got said that Albanion's heart gave out and he just toppled over. Lady Blaine is so grief-stricken that she has allowed no one but General Reyu to tend to her."
"Grief-stricken, my ass!" Ewan muttered distinctly. "She's probably the one who killed the old bastard."
"Have all of our informants confirmed the information?" Matthias asked as he gingerly limped up. His leg had steadily been paining him more lately, a surer barometer of the coming end of the war than anything else. "All three gossips as well as Grace and Kell?"
"They've checked and double-checked. Word is spreading rapidly through the remaining cities under lockdown. The soldiers are talking about it. The Emperor is definitely dead." Squint sat down on a bench under the nearest window, and her one eye blazed with temper. "He didn't even have the decency to live to see the end of the war he caused!" As her breath puffed out, a ring of smoke came with it, proof positive of her ire. Any Dragon that got angry enough tended to breathe out their element—a hazardous thing when the Dragon happened to be a temperamental Fire type!
Alex drummed his fingers on the table. "Blaine," he said curtly.
"To be sure," Matthias agreed. "But we can't really see this as changing anything. We have known all along that Lady Blaine was the driving force behind events. That the status quo changed with her arrival is no coincidence. We must simply carry on as before. Perhaps, if anything, this is more impetus to continue. Should we fall, there is no knowing what Lady Blaine will do to the people."
"Well, this bites!" Squint muttered under her breath.
Evelyn shoved a pastry into her mouth. "You're breathing fire. Calm down, Squint." She held her tray against her chest as she looked at Tyrian. "We stand beside you, Lord Tyrian. Whatever you need of us, you have only to ask. We believe in you."
"On that token, Eve, will you please bring a pot of coffee up to the meeting room?" Matthias turned toward the Generals as Evelyn hurried into her kitchen. "General Cutter, General Renduex, I ask that you join this meeting. Ewan, Kyle, your presence is required as well."
"How'd we get dragged into this?" Kyle groused as he got to his feet.
"You've been here the longest," Tyrian reminded him. "You're senior soldiers in the Liberation Army."
"I don't like the sound of that," Ewan complained. "I'm only three years older than you are." He grabbed another pastry from the buffet as he went past and scooped up Raven when she grabbed his leg. "Come on, kiddo. You've proven to be pretty useful. That and you keep us from swearing too much."
"You mean you swear too much," she told him primly, and made the entire room start snickering.
Together as a group, they headed for the elevator. Once the doors shut, Tyrian asked Di softly, "Whose room were you in last night?"
"Mine," she muttered.
Based on the slightly smug smile on Alex's face, she hadn't been alone in her room. Tyrian just smiled. Alex had his full sympathy and support, and everyone knew it. "Just don't turn into Grace and Kell," Tyrian murmured. "No one wants to wait that long to collect on the bet."
The best Di could say to that was, "Shut up, Tyrian."
Cherry waited for them at the meeting room and hopped to her feet to help Matthias into his chair. "I've been doing some research," she said as everyone sat down. "Our next stop is Gammine, which we know is in the forests that mark the border to Foresalia. To be precise, the city is built on top of a lake. The only way you can access it is via a sole road in. That road is currently entirely defended by Marcus Quint's units."
"To make matters worse," Di picked up, "the lake itself is impassible for boats. The water contains a property that completely eats through wood within a matter of moments. Our only hope of storming the city is to attack via the road, but there's no way we could muscle through."
"The complication," Matthias said, "is that while we are sure that General Quint, and General Martine, are both Destined Stars as well, as of this moment, they are still our enemies. We want to avoid bloodshed if at all possible, but we cannot expect them to simply hand over the keys to the checkpoint."
"Why not?" Kyle asked. "We're all after the same thing."
"It's a test." Alex settled back in his chair. "I believe I speak for all the Lower Generals when I say that we want to see Lord Tyrian test his mettle against us. If he can't get past the meager defenses we offer, then there's no way he can take on Trinan. It is also a test of you, Professor Matthias, as you are the strategist. If you two cannot work to take a checkpoint, the Rebellion stands no chance."
"I had begun to suspect that was so," Matthias said. "And you are correct. I may formulate the plan, but it is Lord Tyrian who must execute it. And should something go wrong, he must think on his feet. But I trust him to do so. He almost doesn't need me."
Tyrian smiled at him. "Sure I do. Knowing you're taking care of this part means I can focus on all the rest. My place is on the battlefield, not in the war room. I'm just the weapon to be wielded. And I am perfectly fine with that. I was born to be a warrior. I would never have lasted long if I had become a Lower General. I am sure of that now."
No one could argue with him. They had all watched him bloom on the battlefield like the rarest of flowers. Quite literally, he had been born for this very moment. But Matthias also knew that while Tyrian needed him, his presence was not what would ensure victory. There was no Rebellion without Tyrian. He represented the hopes of every person who lived in the Empire.
"What do we want to do?" Ewan asked Matthias. "I doubt we can sneak someone inside like we've done before. Quint is probably on to that tactic by now. None of us would be able to get past the gate."
Matthias lightly drummed his fingers on the table as he thought quickly over the possible recourses. "I believe the simplest thing to do is to tackle the lake. We'll sail up to the back door."
"What part of 'the water eats wood' did you miss?" Kyle asked.
"The part where she said the water eats stone."
"Oh!" Raven brightened. "Ships of stone!"
"Correct!" Matthias couldn't help but wistfully wish for a future where she could have been his student as well. There was much he would have loved to teach her. He would have to be content with Cherry carrying on his tutelage, perhaps with Raven, perhaps not. "I propose we make some boats out of stone and sail across the waters. We can breach the city from behind quite easily."
"But you still have to deal with Marcus," Alex reminded him. "Getting in is only half the battle."
"I think we're going to make a little switch in the décor. Wouldn't our flag look lovely flying from the highest tower?"
"Ah, I get it." Tyrian smiled. "We fly our flag even before we've got General Quint on our side. The entire city is going to think we've already won. He won't have any choice but to surrender."
"You'll have to be fast." Di shook her head. "Marcus has a strong sixth sense for magical power. He'd feel you or Cassie the instant you were inside the city."
"Then maybe we need to distract him," he said. "We send in someone to find and distract him, and when they have him occupied, then we'll take care of the flag. What sorts of things distract General Quint?"
In one voice, Alex and Di said, "Women."
Ewan grinned. "I'm going to like him."
Tyrian began to mentally run through the women in the Destined Stars who were of the right age frame and personality to successfully distract a battle-hardened general. A smile touched his lips. "I do believe this might be the perfect task for my cousin."
Kyle's brows lifted. "True, she did a damned good job of flirting us into quite a store of scrolls that first battle. She's beautiful, and she's personable. She gets my vote."
"She's also a Healer," Matthias noted, "which means that she automatically gets overlooked by others as being no threat. Never mind that she swings that mace pretty hard and her aim with her Resurrection Relic's lightning rivals Kane's." He nodded. "I agree. Lady Marian is a good choice for this task. Do you think she'll be a good choice?" he asked the two Lower Generals.
Di grinned. "You couldn't have picked better, I assure you. Let's just say that if it hadn't been for the rules about military members being distracted by significant others, Marcus might very well have come knocking on her door the instant she was eighteen."
Curiously, Tyrian found that unsurprising. He hadn't seen anything expressly obvious over the years after Marian had turned eighteen, but there had just been something in the way General Quint acted when she was around. Perhaps that had subconsciously fueled his decision. "Then Marian is indeed the proper choice."
"Well, that takes care of that issue," Alex said, "but what do we do about the boats? Can Theo build a boat of stone? And how do we sail up to the back of the city without being noticed, anyway?"
The meeting room doors opened at that point and Theo walked in. At his side was a woman of roughly the same age who had short red hair and lovely features, and the telltale pattern of scales over her skin to imply she had Merfolk blood; she also possessed fins for ears. She wore the familiar rugged clothes of someone used to working hard for her living. "I brought a present," Theo said gravely. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Not at all." Tyrian got to his feet with a smile. It was there again, that little tug inside. "I'm Tyrian," he told the woman. "Welcome to Aon Castle. Did Theo drag you here?"
"He's cute, so it's not a hardship." She waved a hand in the air and then propped her hands on her hips. "My name is Paola, Lord Tyrian. I'm a ship builder. Theo said that since you have the two port cities, you might be needing my services."
Ewan looked at Kyle. "I'm not so unnerved by that happening anymore."
Kyle shook his head. "We'll stay sane longer if we don't ask."
"You couldn't have come at a better time," Tyrian said honestly. "We have need of your immediate services, Paola." He looked at Theo. "Can you see to finding her a room? She'll be staying with us a while."
"Ha, knew it." He grinned at Paola. "You don't want to share my room?"
She sniffed. "I don't sleep with ship rats."
With a whistle, clearly un-offended, he left the meeting room. Tyrian hid a smile as he gestured for Paola to take one of the empty seats. There was obviously nothing romantic between the two. He could only liken it to the way Marian and R.K. flirted just for the fun of it. It was just as well. There were too many betting pools already anyway.
"Welcome to the Liberation Army, Paola," Matthias said. "All those present are also Destined Stars, even young Raven. You are welcome at any time to join us in any meeting if you feel you are needed. We have all learned that we know when Lord Tyrian needs us, just as he knows when we need him."
"That works just fine for me." She pulled a pad of paper out of a pocket and retrieved the pencil stuck over her left fin. "So what are we talking?" The explanation was brief, and she could only whistle lightly when they finished. "You're right, you do need me. Let's see . . . a ship made of stone. It's not as hard as you think. It just needs to be scaled properly to whatever it's sailing in. There's also the option of not making it solid stone. A stone cover over wood might work as well."
"We're also concerned about visibility," Alex said. "We don't expect them to start shooting at us, but we're trying to be covert. Sailing up to the back door is enough of a problem to begin with."
"Not that much so," she disagreed. "There's actually another bridge back there that can be lowered. The higher nobility never use the main road because it's so dirty. I've known some narcissists who would pitch a fit if they so much as looked at dirt."
"Narcissist?" Raven asked Tyrian. "That's a weird word."
"For some weird people," he conceded. "A narcissist is a person of higher nobility who is so full of him or herself that they think only they are important. They tend to be very vain, very snobby, and very condescending to lesser beings." His brows suddenly lifted and he looked at Matthias.
The strategist was already thinking of the same thing. "You know," he said musingly, "wouldn't it be perfectly normal for a high class lady to be traveling to Gammine to escape the dirty reconstruction in other cities? And wouldn't it be perfectly normal for her to demand they let her in the back so she doesn't have to deal with those messy soldiers?"
"And while she's making this huge scene, wouldn't it be too bad if a small boat just happened to slip under radar and get into the checkpoint?" Tyrian murmured.
"How many people in the boat?" Paola asked.
"Three. Lord Tyrian, Lady Cassie, and General Cutter," Matthias said.
"Then it can be pretty small . . . I think a stone cover on the wood would be fine." She sketched across her paper swiftly and accurately, mapping out the dimensions as well as the supplies she would need. "If I blackmail Theo and Mayo and grab those two builders as well, we can have it ready by the morning. It won't be pretty, but it doesn't have to be."
"I'll leave it to you," Tyrian told her. "I know you'll get it done." He looked at Matthias. "Tomorrow would be ideal anyway. I still need to get Marian up to speed on the plan, and we need to transform her into a narcissist." He frowned thoughtfully. "Where are we going to get her the proper clothes? We don't have a tailor yet."
"Myr?" Cherry asked. "She has quite the collection of clothing since she's a bard. She might have something that Serentia can alter for Lady Marian."
"Then that's the plan," Matthias said. "Lord Tyrian, if you will speak with Myr, Serentia, and Lady Marian, we will help Paola get everything she needs to have our stone boat ready by morning."
"Done." Tyrian got to his feet and smiled as Raven climbed onto his back. "If anything, this will be amusing," he said to Cassie as they headed out of the meeting room to go find Marian. This time of day, she would no doubt be with Kelan. She and Halkern worked with the doctor to help tend to everything from broken bones to runny noses.
"You know," Cassie said wryly, "in a way, I'm glad one of us ended up with a Pure Relic before we, uhm, cemented our relationship." The tact was only for the presence of their daughter's tiny ears, though both parents were fairly sure she already knew the basics. She was turning into quite the Scholar with the way she read books. "I'm fairly hard to embarrass, but asking your cousin for herbs to prevent pregnancy might have been more than I could take in stride."
"She would have giggled," he conceded, "but she wouldn't have made it difficult for you."
"Yes, but she's your cousin, and is nearly a sister. Can you imagine if I had a sister and you had to ask her for birth control?"
"Depends on how much like you she was." He grinned. "If she was exactly like you, then I wouldn't need to ask. She'd just give them to me and tell me to behave myself."
She found herself laughing. She really couldn't find fault with that argument.
Marian was indeed in the doctor's office, and she was organizing the herbs when Tyrian and Cassie walked in without their daughter. Raven had abandoned them when she heard Savon just had her new puppies. "Good morning," Marian said as she finished stacking a few boxes. She dusted off her hands and walked over to hug Tyrian. "Word has spread," she said. "But I know you'll be okay. You have us."
"I know." He hugged her back and then caught her hands. "I need to ask you to do something."
"Name it," she said simply.
"Walk with us to find Myr, and we'll explain."
By the time they got to Myr's room, Marian was both impressed by the plan and humbled to be trusted with something so important. She was also slightly flustered, but she kept that well hidden. They wanted her to distract Marcus Quint? The accepted playboy of the Imperial Army? She had never seen him with the same woman twice! Not, of course, that she had been watching or anything.
When Tyrian knocked on Myr's door, she opened it immediately. She brightened when she saw who stood outside. "Lord Tyrian! Hi, come in!" She stepped back to let all three enter. "What's going on?"
One explanation later and she leapt to her feet to go over to her closet. "Oh, I have the perfect thing! When we went to Rubentia, I picked up a whole lot of my stuff, and I know there's a dress in here that'll look amazing on you, Lady Marian! It was a gift from a fan of my caravan, and he's a great tailor, so it should be high enough quality."
The dress she emerged with certainly spoke of high fashion. The skirt was excessively voluminous, the material was silk, and the top would perfectly frame and flatter the wearer's curves. There was also quite a bit of lace and ruffle, enough to make anyone think the owner had a high opinion of herself.
While on one hand, Marian was slightly nonplussed by the decadence, she was also taken with the pale pink material. She normally couldn't wear pink because of her rusty hair color, which was more orange than red. This pink had a bit more yellow than normal, and it would be flattering.
"Let's see if it fits!" Myr said. She grinned at Tyrian. "Turn around so we can surprise you. If you can be impressed, then we know the general will!"
He obligingly turned around. "If it doesn't fit, we can ask Serentia to adjust it," he reminded them after a few moments.
"It laces, so it fits." Myr sighed happily. "You look so pretty, Lady Marian!"
Tyrian turned around and began smiling. The dress was indeed beautiful, and it did indeed flatter Marian's figure and coloring, but in some strange way, it just didn't seem to suit her. She was a Healer of high caliber, and her regular leggings and jackets suited her much better. "You look like a real lady," he told her. "But not quite like my cousin."
"I'd rather be your cousin," she admitted with a smile. "But there's a tiny part of me that's enjoying itself entirely."
"Well, good. There are no rules about taking your enjoyments where you find them." He contemplated her hair and its thick braid. "What about her hair, Myr? Isn't it in style for the high class to wear their hair down?"
"Down with ribbons," she agreed. She grabbed a brush and handful of pink ribbons. "You're going to knock General Quint on his butt! He'll be so distracted that Lord Tyrian could probably sneak everyone out of the city!"
Thirty minutes later, Marian was able to escape back into her own clothes for the rest of the day. The dress had been handed off to Persephone for a good washing and ironing so that it looked absolutely pristine by morning. Several people from the higher class in the city got into things, and matching shoes, gloves, and a very excessively frilly parasol were also borrowed and set aside.
Peter and Jacqueline worked around the clock with Paola, Theo, and Mayo, and come the morning, they had completed the small boat. It had been designed to be as small as it could while still holding three people. With the thin veneer of stone over the wood, not only would it resist the properties of the lake water, but it would also blend in much better.
Tyrian and Cassie left their tower right after dawn to meet up with Di and Marian. Raven was sleeping in their bed, having snuck in the night before. The guards were aware of her presence, and they knew to have Serentia or Liang fetch her if she wasn't up by breakfast. Both felt impressed with their Kaiten and Kentei; parenting was hard enough without doing it in the middle of a war.
A very sleepy eyed Miranda waited for the party in the courtyard, and she had a cup of coffee. "Eve is up," she said. She held out a plate with pastries. "She said to eat something before you go."
Marian, looking every inch the narcissist, shook her head. "My stomach is full of nerves. I couldn't eat anything right now." She did, however, accept a sip of Miranda's coffee just so she actually had something in her stomach. "I can do this," she said firmly. "I know I can. I don't look stupid, do I?" she asked her cousin.
He shook his head. "You look beautiful, Marian. Stop worrying." He looked at Di. "You've been to Gammine." At the nod, he turned to Miranda. "Focus on Di, and use her to get us to the city. We need to land behind it, and inside the woods enough to not be seen. I know you can do it."
That belief made Miranda surer in herself, and she lifted her wand with more confidence. "Here we go!"
A few moments later, the party landed safely inside the woods behind the city and out of sight. "Of course," Cassie noted dryly, "that means that the next time she ports us, we're going to land in the trees."
"Naturally," Tyrian said. He glanced out of the trees and saw that the boat was exactly where it was supposed to be. It had been transported there in the middle of the night under the cover of darkness. If he hadn't been looking for it, he would have never seen it. "Are you ready?" he asked Marian.
She opened her parasol and took a quick breath. "I'm ready."
General Marcus Quint was the youngest of the Lower Generals, but he was by far one of the more skilled. Even Samantha looked on his skill with a sword with respect, something he took as a high compliment. He was also highly sensitive to the fluctuations of magic in the air to the point that he always knew what relics were worn by what people in his immediate vicinity. The stronger the user, the further away he could sense them.
So, truthfully, he felt the commotion at the back road long before he heard it. In the middle of writing down more notes on buildings in need of immediate repair, he looked up with surprise as he sensed a strong healing type magic not far away. Curiously, it was a familiar magic.
A few moments later, he heard a woman's voice say, "Just lower the bridge before any more dirt gets on my dress!"
He sighed. It wasn't the first narcissist to enter the city in such a fashion. "Lower the bloody bridge," he muttered to the soldiers as he joined them. "Just get it done with before she makes a bigger scene. I'll escort her to the inn and smooth her feathers."
Marcus had a way with women of all ages; playboy notwithstanding, he was also a true gentleman. He just always knew exactly how to handle any given female at any given time. His soldiers, including his female soldiers, were both impressed and amused by it—and had often begged him to act as a wingman on their behalf.
The bridge lowered and a young woman in a lovely pink gown hurried across it with her parasol held to shade her face from the sun and prying eyes alike. The closer she got, the more Marcus' eyes narrowed. Suspicions churned as he walked forward. The very fact that he couldn't find the right thing to say was as much proof of who he looked on as the sight of beautiful rusty colored hair.
He offered a hand, and when she lightly placed hers on it, he drew her fingers to his lips with a bow. "Welcome to Gammine," he said. In a very soft voice, he added, "Lady Marian."
Her heart began to beat harder. For a moment, she was terrified that she had messed the entire plan up, but he simply tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and began to escort her into the city. He acted as if everything was normal, yet she had a frightening image of being thrown in jail. Not that she thought he would, but there was no knowing what he thought!
"Don't be afraid," he said quietly. "I am the last person you should be afraid of, Marian. Are you here to infiltrate the defenses and find a weakness?" He suddenly smiled wryly. "Or was this Alex and Di's not so subtle way of exploiting my weakness?" He fully admitted that he had a fondness for women. Since he didn't use, abuse, or hurt them in any fashion, he didn't see it as such a bad fondness to have.
"Yes," she admitted softly.
"Then you have to come with me on a tour of town and see what you can pry out of me." He brought her fingers to his lips again and smiled. It was pure gut instinct when it came to Marian. He could only guess if he was making the right move or saying the right thing. He felt certain he was making a fool of himself half the time, but she never noticed. "Will you bat your lashes and flirt?"
She found herself smiling at him. He always made her smile. "That was the plan." She fluttered her lashes playfully. "Should I hang on your arm, or would that be overkill? I wouldn't want to make anyone jealous. I'm sure you've been breaking hearts all over town."
"I have never broken a heart," he told her. "Perhaps dented a few, but never broken." He took a breath and grabbed for courage. This slim Healer always seemed to take it all away. "Marian," he said quietly, seriously, "is there anyone in your life?"
Her heart started pounding again. "If you mean whether or not I am courting or have been courted, the answer is no. I've been continuously single for five years." A sad smile touched her lips. "I've never met an eligible man I wanted to court, and certainly none have come by my door."
"Would you allow me to be the first?"
She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him in shock. "What?"
"Would you let me court you?" he asked. He brushed her hair out of her face softly. As beautiful as she looked, he missed the way she looked in her Healer's clothing. It suited her much better. "I'd have asked five years ago, but," he shrugged lightly, "I did not want you to be miserable by having a beau, possibly a husband, who you could almost never see."
"Why are you telling me now?"
"Because things are changing. And because it finally occurred to me that the reason I never quite know what to say to you has to be because you're the one who really counts. This isn't a line, Marian. The man before you is the real one. It always has been."
She took a deep breath. "Something for which I'm grateful. I've always liked the real General Marcus Quint. I'd watch you with girlfriend after girlfriend and always be so . . . so . . . so jealous." She found a smile though her lips trembled. "I would be very happy if you courted me, Marcus."
He bent his head to lightly brush her lips with his and lingered long enough that she softly sighed into his lips. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He kissed her again, a little deeper, and heard a very distinct cheer in the background. "Is that at us?" he asked huskily.
Her body aching for his touch and her lips tingling, she still found she could be amused by the whole situation. Her lips curved. "No, that's at the flag."
"The flag?" He lifted his head quickly and looked to the tower. There, distinctly, flew the flag of the Liberation Army. He couldn't help it. He started laughing. "Checkmate, Marian. That was a very adept distraction!"
She grinned teasingly. "I was just supposed to flirt. You're the one who got so serious." She went up on her toes and kissed him quickly. He was quite a bit taller because she was short, but she had always liked that about him. A Healer should always have a good warrior to protect them.
Tyrian had to smile as he watched the scene from the tower. "I think they were both distracted," he said to Di and Cassie.
Di grinned. "Couldn't have happened to a better man."
Tyrian led the way down out of the tower, and by the time they got to the bottom, Marcus and Marian waited for them. "Greetings, General Quint," Tyrian said. "I believe that the entire city now thinks that I'm in charge instead of you. What say you to that?"
"I say you're one sneaky bastard, and you're very much like your father. And I say that with a great deal of respect." Marcus bowed gracefully. "Consider this a formal surrender, Tyrian. I will inform my troops that they are free to make their decision as to stay or return. I know my soldiers though; you can count on adding my eight units to your total count. They serve the people. The people want change."
"At this point," Tyrian said quietly, "we can say they need change. It's become so much more than a rebellion, Marcus. Blaine is evil. Left to her own devices, there is no one who will be safe. She's murdered indiscriminately, and she will do it again. All she wants is a Pure Relic. The Empire is nothing more than a tool. If we don't free the people from her grasp, then there won't be anything left. I need you to help me do this. Lend your strength to mine."
"It's yours," he said simply as he took Tyrian's hand. "Please accept my dedication as a Destined Star." He didn't need to see the star on his shoulder to know what he was. It was that feeling inside him that told him. The feeling that had always been there all along. He would always be grateful for the gift he had been given. "Let's go to the inn to talk, and we can get Marian out of that dress." He blinked and then sighed. "That came out wrong."
Marian giggled, and Tyrian just smiled. "Lead the way."
©Stacy J. Garrett. Do not reprint or redistribute without permission.
Chapter 36->
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