Firebrand

Reminders

They finished the remainder of the journey through the Undercroft in silence. Martel felt a host of emotions, which altogether left him disinclined to talk. As the hot-headed emotions of the fight subsided, he still felt an after-shock when considering how close he came to death. If Tibert's ambush had not been intended to kill Kerra, the most likely target would have been the mage who had embarrassed him twice, both at The Broken Crown and at The Copper Drum.

Tibert had gone so far as to hire another wizard. Martel had to thank the Stars that she was an earthmage, suitable for creating a trap underground but less trained in warfare than a battlemage or mageknight would be. Martel knew if he had faced either of those, he would most likely have perished.

His wound ached with every step he took. He would have to take care of it when he got home. He glanced at Wolfram, walking with staggered steps rather than his usual, confident gait. Sigrid brought up the rear, as she did before. Whenever Martel turned to look at her, she had her eyes on Tibert's back.

Martel glanced at the defeated master of the harbour a few times. The man walked staring straight ahead, but the novice could almost feel the anger brewing inside of him, emanating like waves. Was he simply going to be released after this? Undoubtedly, he would return a third time for his revenge, with Martel at the top of the list.

Perhaps he should have killed Tibert when he lay defenceless on the ground. Yet Martel knew he could not do that. Defending himself, sure, even if it meant causing harm to others. But taking another man's life in a cold, calculated gesture – he could not make himself do that. And while it would solve his concern if Kerra killed Tibert on his behalf, Martel was not going to ask that. Both because of that damnable Pact, and because it felt wrong to ask another to commit a misdeed for which he himself lacked the nerve.

~

Finally, after what felt like the longest journey of Martel's life, they reached the locked door that led out of the Undercroft. Kerra unlocked it, and they filed up the narrow staircase. Martel breathed an almost audible sigh of relief, even as his legs felt unbearably tired walking up the steps.

They climbed up the hatch to emerge within The Copper Drum. To Martel's surprise, a few people waited for them, namely two guards and a physician. Kerra motioned for the latter to attend Wolfram, who sat down on a barrel with heavy breaths. "Let's go up. There should be food and something to drink waiting for us. You can be on your way," she told Tibert, who merely snorted in response.

Martel wondered at the time. Judging by their torches burning out and being replaced on the journey, they had travelled for more than an hour in each direction through the Undercroft. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get home, but something to drink and perhaps eat would probably be best.

The small group left the room, leaving Wolfram behind with the physician. Although Tibert remained unbound, Martel noticed that the guards kept to him while they walked. Finally, they reached the large common room. To his surprise, it was nearly empty. Even if the hour was late and dawn not far away, he would have expected at least some drunks hanging around, maybe slumped over the table. But the only people present, other than the staff of the Drum, was a small band of warriors. Some of them looked vaguely familiar, though Martel could not recall from where. Pushing that aside, he focused on the table holding large plates of food and several pitchers of ale. He quickly walked over to help himself.

"What is this?" Tibert growled.

Gorging himself, Martel turned around to see a curious sight. The armed men already in the common room had stood up to approach Kerra and her group. For some reason, it felt tense, even if nobody had drawn any weapons.

"I am giving you an escort home to the harbour," Kerra declared with a smile. "Your own lieutenant and his most trusted men will see to your safety."

"You dare to make a move against me," Tibert all but hissed, staring at the man ostensibly in his own employ.

"You wasted a lot of gold lately, master," replied the lieutenant. "But we can talk about that once we are on our own territory." He gave a nod, and two of his companions seized Tibert. Inclining his head at Kerra, the lieutenant turned to leave the tavern with his retinue and soon to be former master.

Kerra looked at the Night Knife wizard. "Go with them," she commanded. "Bear witness that I left Tibert in the hands of his own people, and nothing happened to him while he set foot in the copper lanes."

The earthmage bowed her head and quickly followed after the others, as did her comrade, still barefoot.

Exhaling deeply, Kerra sat down by the table and emptied at tankard of ale in one draft. "That, as they say, was that."

Martel stared at her from across the table. "You planned for all of this."

"Indeed I did. So did Tibert, except I dare say my plans were better made." She gestured with a finger for Vernon to approach. "You have the mage's payment?" Her lieutenant handed over a purse, which she opened. "As agreed." She counted out five golden crowns and placed them before Martel.

"Why? All the things you have done, from sending me into The Broken Crown to this, what was it all for? You started this whole war," Martel said in disbelief. He did not notice how everyone stared at him, some looking apprehensive at his tone.

"You heard them at the meeting. The Copper Lady of the copper lanes, last to be named. Even that Khivan fop is before me." Kerra drew her dagger and stabbed a cold slice of meat. "Now they will all know that I destroyed Tibert without ever endangering the Pact. If we are to be the copper people, they will learn to fear the bronze knife." Her followers murmured their agreement while Kerra ripped into the meat with her teeth.

~

Martel stumbled more than once on the last leg of his journey home. Kerra had offered him a bed for the night, what little was left of it, but he had class in the morning, and his absence would be conspicuous. Besides, he had no desire to spend one moment longer than necessary beneath the roof of The Copper Drum. He left, though he did take the coins with him. If nothing else, he had earned that money.

The horizon brightened as he made his way through the city. He took the straight route back to the Lyceum, through the harbour; at least he had nothing further to fear in that district.

First bell rang as he trod his weary steps through the gate of the castle. He desired nothing but sleep, but he knew that if he lay down, he would not wake for many hours. Thus, as he dragged himself up the stairs to his room, he only stepped inside to take his key to the apothecary and left again.

Going to the infirmary, a few of the nurses were already awake; knowing him to be an aide to Mistress Rana, they did not question his early presence and simply greeted him.

Once inside the apothecary and alone, Martel removed his robe and his leather armour. It cost him some pains, especially when his undershirt slid up and down across his wound. Fortunately, it did not seem deep. Sitting down on a stool, he cleansed the injury and applied blood salve afterwards. With the most pressing matter handled, he got some skin salve for his bruised shoulder, where the earthmage had hit him with a rock.

Feeling so tired, yet also enjoying the relief of the balm as it eased his pain, he closed his eyes for just a moment.

Noise from the infirmary jolted him awake; a nurse must have dropped something. People would be in the dining hall opposite the infirmary by now, and walking around the hallways. It would raise questions if he returned to his room carrying his leather armour in his arms, so Martel gritted his teeth and put it back on, followed by the robe on top.

He locked the apothecary behind him and walked wearily away. Stepping into the corridor, he wavered. There was one person he wanted to see, but boys were not allowed in the girls' dormitory tower before second bell. He looked into the dining hall and saw her, eating breakfast with her friends.

He could not approach her under those terms, in full view of the entire school; instead, he leaned back against the wall and waited.

Several girls walked past him, giving him odd glances. The route from the boys' tower to the dining hall went along the southern hallway, and they mumbled their guesses to each other why this boy stood in the northern hallway at such an hour.

Martel ignored them, barely paying attention anyway. His eyes threatened to close, and his ears heard little of what happened around him. At length, she appeared from the dining hall, and he pulled himself together. "Eleanor," he spoke with a hoarse voice.

Looking disturbed at the sight of him, she detached from her friends and approached him. "What is it? Why are you here?"

Cautiously, he placed his arms around her in a tight embrace. The scent of lilies reached him. He quickly pulled back again, knowing people would notice and talk behind Eleanor's back.

"Are you - wearing armour underneath your clothes? Martel, what is wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing at the moment. I just needed to be reminded of you." He walked away.