"Yes, well, this boy is hardly a low mage," Luthian murmured, considering the situation before him. He sat down in the chair that the matron had left to get a better look at Alador. He reached out and carefully touched the boy's face. It was cold and clammy to the touch. Instantly he collated what he saw with what he knew.

Whatever had happened between Alador and Aorun, Luthian was certain that an intense pull of magic had occurred. The boy was a water mage, so most of the spells he could have cast with that kind of power would have been noted by others. Luthian paused as he mentally replayed Sordith's report two days earlier.

"You said Aorun drowned?" Luthian queried.

"I said either the blade killed him or the water did, yes," Sordith answered.

"You also said that you found Alador strung up and that Aorun had been at him awhile. Tell me, Sordith...," - Luthian's words were pondering - "...where did the water come from that would have drowned Aorun?" Receiving no answer, the High Minister transferred his penetrating gaze from Alador to the Trench Lord.

Sordith was staring at him with an intense, considering look. Luthian's lips twitched up as he pressed, knowing he was on the right track. "The room you found them in was filling with water, wasn't it?"

"Yes," came the curt answer.

"You should avoid lying to me, Trench Lord." Luthian's tone was cold and hard. "You said no spell was cast. Just how far did he fill the room before he realized that he wasn't in danger any more?" Luthian looked back at Alador. He had seriously underestimated his nephew. That error may have cost him the storm mage that he needed to take the isle with minimal resistance.

Sordith kicked off the wall. "What does it matter? Such questions won't heal him."

"It matters because it may determine if he can be healed," Luthian pressed.

Sordith eyed Luthian for a long moment. "He didn't stop until I knocked him out."

Luthian blinked in surprise. "How full was the room?"

"He had filled it to his chin when I finally rendered him senseless." Sordith eyed the vacant gaze of his charge.

"I see," Luthian drawled out. Yes, he had seriously under-estimated the amount of power that his nephew had harvested from that stone.

"Can he be saved, or will he be like this forever? I will put him out of his misery if there is no hope," Sordith stated flatly.

"I will do some research. We will heed the healer's advice for now, and I will send Henrick to you immediately upon his arrival. I have never seen a mage in such a state, so I have little to offer in wisdom or in hope. However, my library is extensive and I will put mages on this immediately. The boy is important to my plans, and if he can be saved, then he must be." Luthian rose, smoothing his robes.

"Important how?" Sordith eyes moved to Luthian as he spoke.

The man's astuteness made Luthian smile. "You are not the only man who has ways of finding out things. I fear that is for my knowledge only. But I a.s.sure you, I would prefer my nephew very much alive and cognizant of what occurs around him."

Sordith's eyes narrowed, but he did not press the matter. He turned and headed to the door. Luthian took one last look at Alador and followed him back to the office where his other two men waited. Neither man said anything during the short walk to the office nor in the entryway. For Luthian's part, he was calculating how he could manipulate Henrick into seeing that Alador should be moved to the High Minister's manor. Luthian only nodded as Sordith bid him an appropriate farewell.

The guards led Luthian back through the trenches, but this time he was not as aware of his surroundings. When they reached the stairs to the first tier, a small child peering from the shadows caught his eye; it was the same girl he had noticed entering the trench. Halfway up the stairs, he turned and tossed the child a trading token. Immediately after doing so, he looked down at the bottom of the stairs then poured the tokens from his belt pouch into his hands. He stepped back through the two rear guards and tossed the tokens to the bottom of the stairs. Chaos immediately erupted below him as people seemed to materialize from nowhere, and fights swiftly broke out.

Luthian smiled slowly. He turned and met the smiling girl's gaze. He put a finger to his lips, and she swiftly nodded.

"Minister, you have started a full-blown riot. We had best depart before it moves up the stairs." As if to emphasize the man's point, the injured scream of a woman pierced the air from below.

Luthian just nodded and let them hurry him away. The mage smiled as he walked. He judged from the memory of her adoring gaze that she would not forget him or his act of charity. She would come to him when the time was right. In addition, he had left a mess for the arrogant Trench Lord to clean up.

The High Minister made his way back through the city, wrapped up in his thoughts. The most prevailing one concerned his nephew. Alador had to be cured of whatever ailment held his mind in thrall: because Luthian was unlikely to ever find a storm mage with such power again.

Chapter Four.

Luthian had sent a magic weave to inform Henrick to come home immediately. It had been three days, and still there was no sign of the man. His brother had always been irritating, but for the last five turnss he had been more so. Luthian knew d.a.m.n well he knew how to cast a travel spell. Henrick's disrespect in not responding immediately bordered on insolence.

Luthian missed the days when his brother resided on a lower tier and groveled to do whatever task Luthian set before him. Henrick was still biddable, but the groveling had ceased after one long trip to the Daezun lands. He was fairly certain that Henrick had found a substantial bloodstone; if he had, then Henrick was somehow blocking Luthian's attempts to discern his level of power. His brother's lack of respect for him - or deference to the post he held - was high on Luthian's list of major irritations.

The door to his office slammed open with a sudden force. Both Blackguards stationed in his office drew their swords immediately. It was such a sudden interruption that even Luthian was startled. There in the doorway was his brother, looking quite irritated. The guards looked to Luthian for orders once they realized that it was the High Minister's brother. Luthian nodded for them to step out, then glanced down to the draft of a speech he had been writing before his thoughts had wandered.

"Have you become so barbaric in your ventures to Daezun lands that you forgot to knock, brother?" Luthian drawled out, not rising from his desk. He glanced up casually, then picked up his quill to continue working on the speech.

"I gathered from your message that there was some matter of urgency." Henrick strode forward as the departing guards shut the door behind him.

"And yet you took three days to arrive," Luthian pointed out as he crossed out a line that did not quite deliver the tone that he wanted to sway the council.

"I was not able to disappear without losing my cover as the carefree enchanter. I had to leave the village properly, and leave my wagon hidden." Henrick moved to the wine decanter without asking for permission. He poured himself a gla.s.s and drank it all down.

Luthian was scowling at Henrick's continued lack of proper decorum. "If you were not my brother..." he began as he laid down his quill.

"Yes, yes. I would burn where I stand." Henrick waved a hand dismissively then refilled his gla.s.s. "You know how draining travel spells are. Surely you would not deny me a bit of respite." He smiled charmingly at Luthian and took a slow draw from the gla.s.s. "Now, what is so urgent that you demanded my immediate return? Are we under attack?" Henrick sounded almost hopeful.

"It is Alador." Luthian's arms crossed as he watched his brother carefully.

Henrick immediately sobered his banter. "What happened?" he asked with genuine concern.

Luthian noted the change. Perhaps he could manage his brother through Henrick's care of his b.a.s.t.a.r.d son. "Aorun chose to eliminate Alador, despite his relationship to me." Luthian's announcement was purposefully misleading. He wondered if Henrick knew the level of power his son would possess once it reached its full potential.

"Alador is dead?" Henrick's face had paled as he lowered himself into a nearby chair.

Luthian watched closely, noting the changes in his brother's tone and manner. "Aorun is the one that is dead. Alador is barely better off. Before you ask, it is not a matter of healing, but rather one of magical drain."

"So Alador is Trench Lord?" Henrick asked. He slowly took a sip of wine as his eyes searched Luthian's.

"No. Aorun's second, Sordith, intervened, and was the one to actually overcome the Trench Lord. That whelp reigns as Trench Lord now." Luthian's tone caressed "whelp" with the level of aggravation that Sordith had inspired. "He has claimed protection of your son and will not release him to me. While I could have pressed the issue, I was not sure that it was in Alador's best interest."

Henrick did not respond at first, and the silence was filled with the crackle of the fireplace and the coastal wind howling outside. Henrick set the gla.s.s down on the small table beside him and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. "You have seen him?" he asked in a lowered tone.

There was definitely a connection between Henrick and his son that Luthian might be able to use. "Yes. I went to the Trench myself to ascertain the level of damage," Luthian admitted.

Henrick raised an eyebrow at this. "I see. What did you discover?"

Luthian nodded and continued. "His hair is significantly lightened with a substantial strip of drainage from root to tip. He stares mindlessly into nothing, and can respond to commands in body, but there seemed to be no response from the man himself. The healer reported that this is not a matter of healing, but one of will and magic." Luthian response was businesslike.

"So he is lost to us, then." Henrick sat back seemingly defeated. "I know our plans rested on his strengths as a Guldalian and a storm mage."

Luthian c.o.c.ked his head curiously at Henrick's use of the term 'our plans.' He had never heard Henrick speak of it as a joint matter before this. He quickly checked his own thoughts to avoid revealing his curiosity. "Not necessarily. He does not trust me due to a rather..." - Luthian paused to decide how much he should share - "...unfortunate disagreement. I found out he had been faltering his abilities around me . The healer says that he might respond to one he trusts. My research has found that there have been some instances where a strong mage under distress and weakening can withdraw into his own mind for protection. I did not seek to see if this is true, for I think my touch would drive him deeper." Luthian rose and went to refill his own wine gla.s.s.

"Where is he being held?" Henrick asked as he picked up his own gla.s.s, swirling the wine as he absently stared into its depths.

"In the Trench Hall itself. Sordith..." - Luthian growled out the name - "has taken a liking to him, which is to our advantage. He will have more protection than just you or me. We cannot keep the eyes on him that a Trench Lord can and still let him train in the guard." Luthian had learned a long time ago that if one path to his plans did not seem to be working, it paid to adjust them quickly and take a different path. His ability to a.n.a.lyze situations on the hoof and adjust his plan of action accordingly had been instrumental in his rise to the rank of High Minister.

Henrick drained the remaining contents of his gla.s.s and rose. "I will go to see him immediately." He started to turn away, but looked back with a smirk. "With your permission, of course, High Minister."

Luthian rolled his eyes. "Just see to it that we get him back, Henrick, and you might live another turn." Luthian's words held an edge of truth.

"Your repeated threats are becoming tiring Luthian." Henrick turned to face Luthian fully. "I am ready for that day any time you dare, brother." Henrick's resolute response lingered on the air between them.

Luthian realized that his brother spoke the truth. He was ready for the battle for power whenever Luthian decided to make his move. Luthian was thankful at the moment that he had already decided to have Henrick a.s.sa.s.sinated. He did not like not knowing the true strength of his adversary.

"I will keep that in mind," Luthian promised. Luthian held Henrick's gaze till Henrick finally dropped his in deference and turned to stride out the door.

After his brother was gone and the Blackguards retook their posts, Luthian looked up from the wine gla.s.s he was holding. "Get me Severent," he ordered. It was time that his Master of Knowledge did his job.

Sordith looked over the damage reports from the recent riot. It was not lost on him that it had occurred at the bottom of the steps that the High Minister had taken out of the trench. He had no doubt that Luthian had tossed those tokens knowing full well what would occur. He made a note on the bottom of the council invoice for the damage. One of the vending stalls had been destroyed, three were dead, and the miners had refused to work for a half-day because of harm that had befallen family members. Sordith doubted he would receive the compensation, but it would send a message to Luthian that he was fully aware of who was responsible.

His mind turned to what had brought Luthian into the trench in the first place. Sordith had been expecting Henrick for days. He was frustrated as neither he nor Keelee had been able to provoke any mental response from Alador. Sordith had even tried pain, but Alador had not even flinched. He had given up hope. If he did not hear word from Luthian or Henrick by the week's end then he would put the boy out of his misery. The life that Alador was living was no life, even if it had been only about a week.

When his door opened, he looked up to see Owen standing there. He sighed with exasperation. Owen had become like a big puppy dog since Sordith had become Trench Lord. "Yes, Owen, what is it?"

"I think that Guldalian man that you been looking for finally bothered to show up." Owen's tone made it clear that he did not approve of mages at all.

"Well, show him in then." Sordith shoved his annoyance aside and waved Owen out the door. He was finally going to introduce himself to the man he believed to be his father. More importantly, he hoped that Henrick could find some way to help Alador.

His mind was racing as to how to present himself to Henrick. How to present the whole situation? How much did he dare share? Could Henrick really be trusted? He wanted to believe that Henrick was a man of honor, but the truth was that he was related to Luthian. That fact right there made the whole situation murky. He moved around his desk as his door opened. Henrick strode in and straight to Sordith, stopping just short of the Trench Lord. Both men were quiet for a long moment as each a.s.sessed the other. The mage was dressed in the robes typical of the mage caste. The black material contrasted with the gold trim. His long black hair was held back by a simple band, much as Sordith's own.

"I understand that you are holding my son." Henrick's tone held no accusation, but there was a tension to his whole presence that Sordith did not miss.

"I would prefer to say that I am protecting your son." Sordith's soft answer was intended to lower the mage's level of intensity.

Henrick paused for a long moment. "Protecting him from whom?" Henrick's eyes were now directly locked with Sordith's.

Sordith looked at him very carefully. "If you have to ask that then you are either one of those I need to protect him from," Sordith crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk, "or you're as blind as a bat."

Henrick wrinkled his nose in annoyance. "I know who the boy needs protection from and why. I wonder why the Trench Lord gives a d.a.m.n." Henrick had yet to move from his chosen spot, rooted as firmly as a tree.

"Let's just say I have a vested interest in Alador," Sordith drawled out. "After all, without him, I wouldn't be the Trench Lord." Sordith noted Henrick's displeased look and expelled a long sigh. "We could argue and discuss all day why either of us gives a s.h.i.te, but that's not helping your son," Sordith said, attempting to focus the mage's mid on what mattered most.

"For me to help him, I need to know everything that happened, or at least as much as you know." Henrick clasped his hands behind his back. "Leave no details out. It may make a difference in what my next step should be."

Sordith hesitated. He didn't know if he could trust Henrick, but he did know that Alador was as good as dead in his current situation. "I came through the door of the room that Aorun had Alador in. The man was strung up from the ceiling. It is a set up that Aorun used for torturing those that had failed him. One of Aorun's men was kneeling over Alador's bed servant, clearly intent on ravishing her right there. I watched as that man seemed to crumble into dust." Sordith shuddered at the image of Jayson's hands literally falling off, and the rest of his body collapsing in on itself.

"Once the man was nothing but dust, the room immediately began filling with water. I was a bit busy, after that, dispatching Aorun..." Sordith eyes became vacant as he relived the battle and his own panic at being held beneath the water. He swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing.

"By the time I was sure that Aorun was dead, the water was already to my knees. I got Alador's feet released, but the water just kept rising. I tried to distract him by shaking and calling out to get him to stop." Sordith returned his focus to Henrick who was listening closely. "It was as if he wasn't even there. I finally sapped him, and once he was out, the water stopped rising."

Henrick frowned. "The young fool!" Henrick spat out finally. "I told him... I warned him not to kill in that manner." Henrick put a hand to his eyes and let out a long sigh. "I will need to see him."

"I figured you would." Sordith kicked up off the desk. "Come, I will take you to him right now." Sordith led the way out the door to the inner hallways. As usual, there was no sign of servants, and their footsteps were audible in the stillness.

"He is biddable," Sordith continued. "If you tell him to stand or sit, he will comply. It is like watching a dead man move, such as in tales told to scare children at night."

"Yes, either one of two things has happened, and I am hoping for the first," Henrick broodingly stated as they moved down the hall.

"Care to enlighten me?" Sordith glanced over as Henrick moved up beside him.

"He has either withdrawn into himself for protection from the pain and anguish, or he burned out his mind and he might as well be dead." Henrick's matter of fact words still showed obvious concern. "I had warned him not to kill in such a manner. It twists the mage internally in ways that I cannot heal or help. He will have to find his own way back."

"I believe your son thought he was about to die anyway. A man pressed into a corner will fight back the only way he knows how," Sordith pointed out.

Henrick fell silent, and Sordith did not press him. He could tell that the mage was sorting through what he knew so far. Sordith opened the door. "He is in here."

Keelee stood up from where she sat on Alador' bed, and upon seeing Henrick, she dropped into a deep curtsy. "My lord," she murmured softly.

"Always a skirt," Henrick groaned with a frown. His eyes roved over Keelee. "At least the boy has good taste."

Sordith grinned. "I hear those traits run in the family." He glanced at Henrick, who was also known to be a lady's man. It was one of the things that Sordith's mother had mentioned when he had asked about his father.

Henrick just smiled. "Excuse me, my dear, but could you leave us?" Henrick motioned for Keelee to leave the room.

Keelee looked at Sordith. He nodded once and held the door for her. "Don't worry, I will let you know what is to happen when we are done," he whispered in consolation as she pa.s.sed him.

Sordith closed the door and noted that Henrick had sat down beside Alador. He watched as Henrick put a hand on either side of Alador's head. Moving closer to see better, he noted the strange light forming around the two men. It had a red hue to it, and Sordith's hair stood up all over his body. The smell of metal filled the air as the temperature seemed to rise around him. Sordith's hands went to his swords, ready to interrupt if he felt the need.

After what seemed an eternity, Henrick's hands fell away. "He has walled himself off. He is in there, but he seems to be locked away in a world that is pleasant to him. My attempts to push through the barrier his mind has created failed." Sordith saw mystification in the mage's face.

"Alador should not be able to keep me at bay." The obvious concern and confusion only increased as Henrick seemed to contemplate this statement.

"How do we get him out? The healer said someone he trusted. I would think that would be you." Sordith frowned at Henrick. "Wait! Why, may I ask, does your son not trust you?"

"I can think of several reasons at the moment, not discounting the fact that Luthian has been at him." Henrick snarled. He returned his gaze to his son. "But I do know one person that he trusts without reservation. It is possible that she could reach him." Henrick rose off the bed, staring down at Alador.

"Well then, let us fetch this woman. The longer he is like this, the weaker he becomes," Sordith pointed out with no little urgency.

"Yes, well, there is a bit of a dilemma around that." Henrick sighed with frustration.

"What is that?" Sordith moved to Henrick.

"She is about three weeks away over land, and she is unlikely to want to let me use magic to bring her." Henrick rose from the side of the bed.

"Then be convincing," Sordith growled out.

"Have you ever tried to argue with a Daezun woman who is set in her ways?" Henrick asked. His face contorted as if such a memory a.s.sailed him. Henrick began to pace at the foot of the bed. .

"Then use that Guldalian charm, because, by your own words, it is the only chance Alador has got," Sordith pointed out.

Henrick nodded. "I may have to resort to a bit of..." - The mage grimaced before continuing - "...forceful persuasion, but I will fetch her."