“Well, young Warlord,” Raile greeted jovially as he took the seat in front of Trev’nor’s desk, “you certainly captured the city easily.”
Trev’nor had been hip deep in reports, sending messengers out until midnight, and rising at dawn to do it all over again in order to figure out where this city stood. That didn’t even count the scolding he got from Becca, Nolan, and Shad about pushing himself too hard during a state of recovery. Even Danyal had given him the stink eye while delivering breakfast to them. His eyes felt gritty, his joints ached, and it took constant snacking from the tray at his elbow to keep him awake.
If not for Dunixan lingering in Jashni, helping to straighten the city before going home himself, Trev’nor might very well have asked Nolan to create a clone of himself so he could be in three places at once.
“Trust me, Raile, there was nothing easy about it,” he groused, pouring himself another cup of tea from the tea set on the desk and offering it to his guest. “So many things went wrong during the battle it’s hard to count them all. And there’s still pockets of resistance in the city that Danyal is dealing with, and by dealing, I mean with much swearing and threats to cut off people’s tongues.”
Raile took the cup and gave it an experimental sip. “Battles normally go awry, it’s the result that counts. What is this? It’s quite fragrant.”
“Jasmine tea. Local specialty, so I’m told.” Trev’nor found it wonderful and soothing to his low-grade headache. “We count that we have nearly eight hundred magicians for you to take. Three hundred some odd are non-magical but please take them anyway so they can reunite with their families.”
“I’ll do so,” Raile promised, relaxing a little more into the chair. “You’ll be pleased to know that after Sallah and I bring this lot back, she’ll be headed to the Isle of Strae to collect everyone else. I’ve been in contact with Garth and he’s relieved I’ll be doing so soon. He also passed along the message that he’s proud of all of you, wishes that he could help, and that if you want to send correspondence home, he’ll play messenger for you.”
For a moment, Trev’nor’s eyes burned with unshed tears as those words meant the world to him. Out here in this desert land, he sometimes felt so far removed from home, uncertain that this path he chose was the right one. Sometimes he felt so homesick the emotion churned his gut, other times so lonely that his heart twisted under the force of it. It took a minute to get his unruly emotions in check before he could trust his voice to not betray him. “Thank you, Raile. I’ll take him up on that offer. I’ve been writing very long letters for my parents and my mentors, explaining what’s going on and what our plans are for the future. If you’ll give me a few minutes to finish them up, I can send them along with Sallah.”
“That’ll be fine,” Raile assured him. “We’ve discovered it’s best to talk with everyone first, let them know what to expect and who’s waiting for them at the new academy. They’re less inclined to panic that way. Llona has to get everyone’s names first, of course. I expect it to take a good portion of the morning. Just how good is a dragon’s memory, anyway?”
“Exceptional,” Trev’nor answered bluntly. “You would not believe it. Nolan finally explained to me why they have such short sentences. It’s not because they can’t learn extensive amount of vocabulary—they have no problem doing that—it’s because of how their speech patterns work. They literally don’t speak in long sentences. It’s completely nonsensical to them. Whatever they want to say, they feel can be said in six words or less, and they simply indulge us when we insist on using more.”
“Interesting.” Raile took another long sip of his tea, mulling that over. “I do feel that we should bully Nolan into writing a more comprehensive guide on dragons. Our young Fire Mage’s efforts in that regard were less than helpful.”
“Anemic, is what it was,” Trev’nor grumbled. He fully realized just how much Krys hadn’t bothered to note down after his own experience pairing up with Garth. “I’m all for it, sir.”
Raile took a good look around Trev’nor’s—formerly Warlord Riyu’s—office. In terms of opulence, it gave Trexler’s former office a run for its money, as it had all of the gold edging and gilt plus ridiculous amounts of carved wood trim and paneling. Raile had a particular curl of distaste on his mouth as he looked, and his eyes spoke volumes.
“I know.” Trev’nor held up a hand, forestalling what he knew was to come. “Believe me, I know. Trexler’s office was just as bad before we took it over. We’ll strip this thing down of all the gold and use it to help finance things a little, mostly in paying the soldiers properly until we can get the taxes and economy straightened out.”
“Becca mentioned to me that the hard part was always the finances after taking in a new territory.” Raile leaned in to pour himself another cup of tea. “She said that Nolan has been invaluable, teaching you two what to do in that regard, and she now fully understood why the Gardeners insisted that it had to be a Prince of Chahir and a Life Mage to come with you into Khobunter.”
“We’d be seriously lost without Nolan,” Trev’nor admitted frankly, every word heartfelt. “I know that he has his own country to rule, and we can’t keep him forever, which honestly makes us both a little sad. Still, we need him desperately now and you can bet I’ll keep him here for as long as possible.”
“I certainly would in your shoes.” Raile regarded him steadily over the rim of the teacup. “Have you considered, young Warlord, where you are going to base your capital city once Khobunter is won?”
Perhaps Raile thought this a trick question, but the three of them had been talking about this for weeks, and Trev’nor knew the answer already. “Rheben.”
“Ah. I thought as much. Otherwise why build the academy there?” Raile’s eyes crinkled up in the corners in a pleased smile. “You chose it for its history?”
“And location. It’s almost dead in the center of the country.” Trev’nor shrugged as it all seemed quite obvious to him. “We talked about other locations as well, but really it would look like favoritism if we chose any of the other major cities, and we really don’t want to do that. Rheben is our best option.”
Raile gave a satisfied nod. “If that is your intent, then we will accommodate you.”
Perhaps those words were supposed to make sense, but it went straight over Trev’nor’s head. “I’m not following, sir.”
“Trev’nor,” Raile sighed, almost exasperated, “think. Why did we in Coven Ordan reach out to Chahir to begin with?”
“In my defense, sir, I was five when you came over.”
“Ah. I’d forgotten.” Raile lifted a shoulder, blasé about this, but then at his age he probably forgot things often. “We were of course invested in Chahir’s magical future, but we also had run out of room. Coven Ordan even now is crammed to the gills and there is no room for the next generation. Some of them of course have left and made new lives in Chahir, or Hain, but there are still many of them that wish to leave and make their own paths. I’ve received inquiries from several of them, wanting to know if they are allowed to come over even if they don’t accept a teaching position.”
It all sounded quite sensible, so much so that Trev’nor couldn’t help but put a hand to his head and lightly smack it, sure that his hearing was failing him. “They want to come over? Here? Why?”
“For the adventure. For the sake of building up the future in this country. Some of them are sick and tired of living under their parents’ thumbs and want to carve a future for themselves in a foreign land.” Raile flicked a few fingers up, a very Chahiran gesture of ‘what can you do?’
Trev’nor was all set to say that they were crazy, who would want to come into a foreign country that was culturally against magicians, in a desert and hostile environment? Then he remembered that he himself had done just that very thing and wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. “I don’t have a leg to stand on. I can’t protest that they’re crazy.”
“In all fairness, Trev’nor,” Raile pointed out pragmatically, “you’ve already blazed the trail. You did the hard part. They want to join us first in Rheben, prove their worth to this country, then branch out from there. They will only occupy the safe areas that you designate to them.”
“That…is probably for the best.” Trev’nor leaned his elbows against the desk, resting his face in cupped hands, and thought about it. It all sounded wonderful, of course, but he shouldn’t be making decisions without his co-ruler even if he had a good idea of what she’d say to this offer. “Raile. How many people are we talking about?”
“Twenty have contacted me, and I understand that some of them were speaking on behalf of themselves and their spouses.”
So over twenty. “I’m inclined to say yes, and offer them full citizenship, but you understand I have to run this by Becca first?”
“Of course. I mention it to you as I’m not sure where she is.”
Even Trev’nor wasn’t quite sure about that. “She’s running about like a crazy woman today. She’s settling the army, dispersing most of the troops to go home, overseeing the repair of Jashni, trying to get the resisting forces to surrender, and so on. I’m getting updates sent to me every few hours, so I’m reasonably sure that I’ll see her late tonight. I can ask her then.”
“That’s fine. In the meantime, we’ll settle our students and use the city as a large teaching module, fix up what we can.” Raile set his teacup on the desk, preparing to rise. “One more thing. What of the magicians still enslaved in the other city of this province? You don’t have them yet, do you?”
“I don’t,” Trev’nor admitted heavily. They still hadn’t found their lost friends from Rurick yet, either, which weighed at his soul. “We’ve sent word to Sha Watchtower about the death of the warlord here and the city’s surrender. We hope they’ll surrender as well and not make us fight them for it. I’ll have an answer for that hopefully soon. The records we have here indicate that another six hundred magicians will be coming your way once we claim them.”
“Six hundred?” Raile asked in justifiable surprise.
“I know, much more than usual. Riyu apparently realized we’d come for him next,” Trev’nor explained, repeating what he’d learned that morning. “He shifted the bulk of the slaves over to here, hoping to use their magical combat skills or, if necessary, more hostages. Becca foiled the plan by breaking into his war room and forcing him to leave the city before he could give the right orders. In that respect, at least, our plans went right.”
“Thank the Guardians for that.”
“Truly.” Trev’nor didn’t even want to think what this battle might have been like otherwise. “Only six hundred magicians remain in Sha Watchtower because of that, so we have the bulk of the magicians in Riyu now. Sir, is there anything that you need?”
“We’re managing just fine,” Raile assured him kindly. “What few things we’ve found we needed, Sallah’s gone and fetched for us. Our students are quite lovely people, all of them, and are very happy to be free and learning magic properly. I’ve had more than a few families reunited and have performed no less then sixteen marriages since starting the academy.”
Trev’nor blinked. Then blinked again. “Marriages? Seriously?”
“Quite a few spouses requested it of me, having never been formally bound together under the law, and I was happy to oblige. I’m actually an official in Bromany, you know, but they didn’t care if I used the Bromanian vows.” Raile beamed, pleased with himself in the matter.
Trev’nor felt like a complete idiot. Of course the slaves had never been given the chance to formally marry. Why would they have? “Raile. Before you leave, let me register you as an officiant here in Khobunter as well, so that we make sure it really is legal.”
“I think that’s a splendid idea, Trev’nor.” Leaning in a little, he asked, “And perhaps a small token to congratulate the couples with? To encourage the others to properly marry as well?”
Trev’nor really, really didn’t want to think about how many people were not legally married. He so did not want that tradition to continue. “That’s a great idea. Hold on.” He grabbed the large bell next to him and gave it a good ring.
Sergeant Amir promptly came into the office and came to attention in front of the desk. “Yes, Raja?”
“Sergeant, it’s just come to my attention that I’m an idiot,” Trev’nor informed him, making the man’s lips twitch in a suppressed smile. “It’s alright, you can laugh. Wizard Blackover tells me that several of our new magicians are intent on legalizing their marriage. He’s performed sixteen ceremonies in his time with us.”
Amir smacked his heart with an open palm, expression pained. “Raja, this hurts my heart. Why did we not think of this before?”
“Because we’re all focused too much on war,” Trev’nor growled, still irritated with himself. He’d lived in a slave pen for ten days, had that not taught him what their lives were like? “Amir, I need help with two things. Wizard Blackover has been using his authority as a Bromanian officiant to marry them, but I’m not sure if that’s entirely legal in Khobunter.”
“It likely isn’t, Raja,” Amir admitted before hastily adding to Raile, “No offense meant, sir.”
“None taken, young man,” Raile assured him. “Every country has different rules on this matter.”
“I need you to find the right paperwork to register him as an officiant in Khobunter,” Trev’nor continued firmly. “If there isn’t one, make one. Respectfully request help from Rikkshan Galel to make sure that we honor the spirit of the law in this.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Also consult with Rikkana Iesha and Rikkan Feisal about the appropriate gift to give a newly married couple. Something that won’t bankrupt us, please, as we need sixteen gifts, but choose something nice. We want to bless these couples as they’ve been through enough already.”
“I’ll make sure to choose something tasteful, Raja,” Amir swore. “Perhaps a few more than sixteen so that Wizard Blackover will have gifts on hand for future couples?”
Trev’nor really should have thought of that too. This blood loss thing had slowed his mind down. “This is why you’re my favorite, Amir. You anticipate things. Yes, do that. Send thirty. I’m sure there’s other couples that haven’t dared to ask yet, but that will hopefully change.” Looking around, he spotted two of the more ornate sculptures occupying a side table and pointed at them. “Take those two gold cats with you to pay for things.”
“It will be my pleasure, Raja.” Amir promptly went to pick them both up, securely tucking one under each arm.
“Raile,” Trev’nor waited for the wizard to focus on him before continuing seriously, “is there anything else? Anything at all?”
“There is one more thing.” Raile hesitated, carefully choosing the words before speaking them. “I know that Sallah wanted to speak to you about this personally, but her hands are full at the moment. I’ll ask on her behalf. The little Earth Mage you rescued, Parisa. Sallah wishes to know if you’ll adopt her? If not, Sallah wishes to do so.”
“About that.” Trev’nor also chose his words very carefully. “I’m told that Parisa’s parents were sold and sent north.”
Raile’s thin eyebrows shot up. “They’re still alive? She’s not an orphan?”
“I believe that to be the case. I can’t prove it at the moment as we still haven’t found them. But I want to wait until we know for sure before making any decisions.”
“Of course, of course. I’ll inform Sallah.”
“Thank you. Tell her…” Trev’nor rubbed at his forehead, not sure what the right answer would be. “Tell her I want to adopt her, but if she feels it’s better for her to have parents, I won’t argue. I’ll give them my blessings.”
“I’ll tell her.” Raile gave him an odd look. “You really wish to adopt her?”
“I’m not sure if it’s my Rheben blood or my Tonkowacon heritage,” Trev’nor admitted honestly, “but I have this urge to adopt everyone. It’s a thing.”
Amir cleared his throat and offered, “Raja, with respect, you already have. Most of a country.”
Until put that way, Trev’nor hadn’t realized it. Snorting a laugh, he waved to the sergeant. “There you go. It’s an illness, I tell you.”
“May it never be cured.” Raile grinned at him and rose to his feet. “Is there anything that you require of me, Warlord?”
“No, no. But are you sure you don’t want to borrow someone up here to help you with all the marriages?”
“I’ll do one big ceremony,” Raile said cheerfully. “Then one big party afterwards. Easier that way.”
Trev’nor certainly thought it would be. Almost belatedly, he remembered a certain conversation with Sergeant Mose under Jashni, and tacked on, “You might encounter resistance because people here are used to giving bride prices and dowries. But Becca and I are dissolving that practice, so put them at ease.”
“Wait, what?” Amir demanded sharply. Then, remembering he was speaking to a superior, immediately amended his tone. “Raja, you’re changing the requirements for marriage?”
“We are. Well, unofficially we want to, but we haven’t put out an official stance on this yet.” Judging from Amir’s hopeful expression, this just became something vital. Gently he asked, “Amir, is there someone you want to marry?”
Amir’s voice was a little choked. “Yes, Raja. I’ve been engaged five years, trying to earn the money. I’m not the only one, there are quite a few of us that have been engaged for years.”
Trev’nor resisted the urge to bang his head on the desk. “Shrieking hinges, this is ridiculous! Amir, after you’ve gotten Wizard Blackover on his way, bring the Rikkana, Rikkan and Rikkshan to me. We’re dissolving this practice as soon as possible. I’ll contact Becca immediately and get her seal of approval on this.”
Amir gave him the sharpest salute to date. “Yes, Warlord.”
He got a ‘warlord’ for that, eh? Trev’nor returned the salute, sending both men out with thanks. When the door shut behind them, he picked up the mirror broach lying on the desk and grazed it with a hint of power. “Becca.”
There was some fumbling, perhaps a panicked yelp, then Becca’s voice in crystal clarity. “—almost dropped the stupid thing. Hello?”
“Becca, it’s Trev. Look, we need to talk about something.”
“Just tell me that it doesn’t involve fighting, as I really want a good nap first.”
“Don’t bring up naps,” Trev’nor groaned, his body informing him that was a delightful idea and why wasn’t he doing just that? “I can’t take one, people keep springing surprises on me.”
“Good surprises? Tell me good ones because I don’t think I can handle bad ones right now.”
Distracted from his main point, Trev’nor frowned. “What’s happening that’s bad?”
“The residents of Jashni returned, but they’re terrified of dragons. As in they almost abandoned the city again when I arrived on Cat. I don’t blame them. Llona, Orion, and Garth basically trashed the place, which didn’t give them a good first impression. Cat’s had to play ‘nice dragon’ all morning and feed them and everything just to keep them from running out blindly into the desert again.”
He really, really should have stopped Garth earlier. Although to be fair, Orion had done the most damage. Rubbing at his forehead, Trev’nor asked, “Anything I can do to help?”
“No, it’ll pass. It already is, a little, although people here are still really confused. They’re happy to have their sons back, though, and that’s helping to smooth feathers while we fix the city. Hang on.” Her voice became a little distant as she gave several orders, then a thump. “Alright, I’m sitting down for a minute. Whatcha need?”
“Becca. We’re idiots.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“We forgot that our former slaves couldn’t properly marry each other before now.”
She swore long and viciously. “You’re right, we’re idiots.”
“Fortunately Raile is helping to cover us. He’s already married sixteen couples. I’m having it set up now so that he’s an officiant and can legally marry everyone else. I’m sending some gifts along with him, too, on his suggestion. But seriously, I think we need to talk about marriage practices and get this settled. Do you realize that Sergeant Amir has been engaged for five years because he hasn’t been able to earn the money to marry his fiancée?”
“It’s not just him. Trev, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this. How do you feel about turning some more cultural norms on their heads?”
Trev’nor grinned out over his desk, looking at the cityscape beyond the window. “I’m all for it.”