Lessons in Etiquette (Schooled in Magic series) (28 page)

“The grandmaster was always a secretive bugger,” Zed said. “But I wonder why a defense against a necromancer would be considered a secret.”

He made a show of stroking his chin, thoughtfully. “Maybe there’s something about it that can’t be easily duplicated,” he added. “Or maybe you just got very lucky.”

“Luck had a great deal to do with it,” Emily admitted. “Were you the one who taught Alassa how to use magic?”

Zed gave her an odd look. “I tried,” he said, finally. “But the princess refused to learn. In the end, I taught her a handful of spells and returned to my lab. I told her father that she was unlikely to be able to learn more.”

He shrugged. “Those were not pleasant days. Her father would be wise to choose a more capable magician for her husband. Even
with
the Royal Bloodline, Princess Alassa was unable to learn what she needed to learn.”

But she learned more at Whitehall
, Emily thought. Maybe Zed had just been a poor teacher, or a bad match for Alassa. But then, Alassa
hadn’t
started learning properly until she’d almost been killed. She’d been so ignorant that she’d actually tried to cheat in Basic Charms, without realizing that it would be immediately obvious to her tutors, or anyone else who actually knew the subject. It had taken months of work with Emily before she’d finally passed the exams that had barred her path to the more advanced classes.

Zed probably wasn’t allowed to discipline Alassa
, she thought.
How could he have been
?

“I meant to ask you about the Royal Bloodline,” she said, changing the subject slightly. “What does it actually
do
?”

“Now
that
is one of the great achievements of the century,” Zed said. He took a long swig of his Kava, than looked at her. “But it is also one of the great secrets.”

Emily studied him. “I am a close personal friend of the princess,” she said, finally. “And the king himself invited me to this kingdom.”

King Randor
hadn’t
said anything about studying the Royal Bloodline, but the implication was there. Zed eyed her for a long moment, then nodded. It was clear that he wanted to boast a little about his success. After all, if he was as old as he looked, he might have been working on the Bloodline for decades. Who else could he talk to?

“You are aware, of course, that magic can be used to improve a person’s body and mind,” Zed said. “In the short term, there are potions that can improve muscles, endurance, memory and even intelligence. Unfortunately, as you should have been told at Whitehall, such potions often have side-effects, particularly when taken regularly. Those effects can be disastrous.”

Emily scowled. One of Mistress Irene’s lectures had covered all of the dangers in great and somewhat repetitive detail. The potions could fail if the brewer had made even a single mistake, or turn poisonous. Or, even if they worked, the effects could be dangerous. There were stories of girls who had drunk so many memory-enhancing potions that they were literally incapable of forgetting anything, boys who had tried to
improve
their genitals and students in Martial Magic who had injured themselves, unable even to realize it because they’d blocked their sensitivity to pain. There
were
potions for Martial Magic, but Sergeant Miles brewed and distributed them personally, with dire threats about what would happen to anyone stupid enough to ignore his instructions.

“Alexis believed that certain traits could be handed down from generation to generation,” Zed continued. “His mother was a keen breeder of dogs, you see, and he suspected that you could do the same to humans. If one happened to pick the right people to breed with, one would end up with superior children. It would just need a great deal of luck and research. And then it occurred to him that such traits could be engineered into his bloodline to emerge in the next generation.”

Emily was surprised that Alexis had actually managed to get that far–but then, people had been breeding animals and plants for centuries before anyone had heard of DNA or genetic engineering. Given enough time and patience, it was probable that one
could
engineer humans, but she doubted that many people could wait for the generations it would take to produce results. Or, for that matter, that they’d have any real understanding of what they were doing, particularly if they combined it with their belief that noble birth meant that someone was inherently superior to a commoner. Sooner or later, inbreeding would take a deadly toll.

“He experimented, then started preparing the potions for himself,” Zed said. “They were strong, even by the standards of those days; his notes suggested that they caused him and his wife terrible pain. But they managed to have four children who were healthy and handsome and keyed in for magic. Alexis II continued the experiments by appointing a Court Wizard who was primarily an Alchemist. Since then, there have been constant improvements made to the Bloodline. I have added a number myself.”

His face twisted into a grin. “Do you know that the Royal Family–at least those in the direct line–have never been ill?” He asked. “Or that permanent control spells simply don’t work on them? Or that you cannot even transfigure them for more than a few days? How many others, even trained sorcerers, have that kind of protection?”

Emily frowned. “But Alassa has been transfigured,” she said, remembering one encounter with Melissa. Her friend had been turned into a rat. “How…”

“Not permanently,” Zed said. He scowled, suddenly. “Which is at least partly why she couldn’t be turned into a man.”

“I’m sure that must have been annoying,” Emily said, dryly.
She
wouldn’t have liked to change sex, although if she’d been born in a world that seemed to have the idea that women were automatically inferior to men she might have changed her mind. But it would have confused her mind. “How…how did Alexis know that his experiment would work?”

“Oh, he experimented on commoners first,” Zed explained. “They were tested and tested again until he had something that could be passed down through the generations. I read his notes of those experiments very carefully and…”

Emily barely heard him. Alexis I, the founder of the kingdom, had experimented on unwilling commoners, twisting their genes just to see what would happen. The odds would be immensely against succeeding the first time, particularly not if they didn’t realize what they were actually doing. God alone knew how many monsters had been created before they’d finally found something that actually worked. Maybe Alexis’s experiments had paved the way towards creating orcs and goblins…

How many had died? How many had been warped? And what had happened to them afterwards?

“Most of the experiments produced nothing, of course,” Zed continued. “Some produced disastrous failures. And some…”

“What happened to them?” Emily snarled. Magic seemed to be boiling under her skin, demanding release. It would have been so easy to throw it at him. “What did he do to them?”

Zed threw her a surprised look. “I’m sure that their monarch took care of them,” he said. “Those who showed no sign of ill effects were released. The others were…”

“Killed,” Emily snapped. The magic inside her was responding to her anger and horror, growing stronger and stronger. Unless Zed was blind, he would be able to sense it. “They were killed after being used as test subjects.”

Control yourself
, she thought. It was hard to concentrate, but somehow she managed to tame the magic, absorbing it back into herself.
Remain calm
.

“The experiments produced a successful result,” Zed pointed out. There was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before. Alchemist or not, he had definitely sensed the surge of magic. “We have a Royal Bloodline.”

“I know,” Emily said. She forced herself to focus. “What does someone have to do to join it?”

“They need treatments,” Zed said. He nodded towards the door leading into the lab. “I am brewing up the first batch now. The prince who wins the hand of our fair princess will drink it and begin the shift into the Royal Bloodline. It is
not
a pleasant process. We actually had to tie Queen Marlena down to force her to drink.”

Emily winced, then a thought struck her. “You said that Alexis I had four children,” she said, suddenly. “Where are
their
descendents?”

“The daughters married into other royal families,” Zed said, as if it wasn’t particularly important. “The king’s younger son went to command the army that tried to liberate Gondar and died there, without issue. I think there was a big argument among the Allied Lands after that, because the liberation was a complete failure and cost thousands of lives…”

“Oh,” Emily said. Something was nagging at her mind. “I assume you keep a copy of the Royal Family tree?”

“Of course,” Zed said. “We have to know who might have been touched by the Royal Bloodline.”

Emily scowled. She didn’t want to ask the next question, but there was no choice. “After Alexis I, how many of the reigning kings had more than one child?”

“Alexis II had five; two legitimate and three bastards,” Zed said. “Bryon had only one legitimate son and a dozen bastards. Alexis III had only two children; Randor has only one daughter, Alassa.”

“A dozen bastards?” Emily repeated. It seemed excessive, although if the barons
had
wanted to keep Bryon from realizing that they’d turned him into a puppet, giving him unlimited access to women might have worked. “What happened to them?”

“Most were killed when Alexis III took the throne,” Zed explained. “A handful might have vanished, but the records have been carefully sealed or destroyed.”

Emily stared down at her hands, unable to fully comprehend the scale of the disaster facing Zangaria. It should have been obvious to her, if not to anyone else. Living close to other girls had made her sensitive to their monthly cycles, even though the potions they were given at Whitehall helped to keep them under control. But she’d never seen Alassa having a period.

I could be wrong
, she told herself.
I don’t share a room with her
…

But it was hard to deny the evidence. The number of legitimate births had fallen sharply in the Royal Family; hell, it was possible that King Randor had tried and failed to produce a bastard son. Or Alexis III, for that matter. What if Alassa
couldn’t
have children at all?

A king could sleep around as much as he liked–and if he slept with an unmarried noblewoman, he might just be able to convince his aristocrats to accept the child as a heir to the throne. Or maybe he could con them into believing that the bastard was the queen’s son. Alassa wouldn’t have that luxury…if the prince she married couldn’t give her children, the Royal Bloodline would come to an end.

They don’t know what they’re doing
, she told herself. Or was it deliberate? No; no one, not even a necromancer could hatch a plan that would take centuries to work.
And they’ve knifed themselves in the back
.

“I need to talk to Alassa,” she said, suddenly. Her friend might be able to put her mind at ease. “Thank you for the Kava.”

A
LASSA’S ROOMS WERE MUCH LARGER THAN
Emily’s and
crammed
with servants, half of whom seemed to be doing nothing more than standing around trying to look attentive. Unlike the maids she’d encountered on the journey, there were clear hierarchies amongst them, with one of the maids firmly in charge of the others. Alassa herself sat in the middle of the room, waiting patiently while the maids fixed her hair. The fact that she was wearing nothing more than a shift in the middle of a crowd of people didn’t seem to bother her.

“Take a seat,” she said, when Emily arrived. “They’ll be done in a few minutes.”

The servants turned to face Emily and curtseyed, almost as one. Emily flushed brightly; somehow, she suspected that she would never get used to the regal treatment. At least they weren’t staying on their knees this time, she told herself, as the maids turned back to watching Alassa. She couldn’t imagine how her friend could tolerate having so many people around her at all times. Did they even sleep at the foot of her bed when she finally went to sleep?

She looked around the room, shaking her head at the sheer luxury of it all. The walls were painted bright blue, decorated with portraits of royal women throughout the ages, starting with the first Queen of Zangaria. She had been a determined woman, from the look in the picture’s eye, but it was hard to see how she was related to Alassa. But then, the Royal Bloodline practically defined the looks of those who were born with it. Queen Marlena didn’t look anything like her child either.

One large window looked out over the castle grounds. Emily walked over to it and peered down to see a group of workmen constructing a small stadium on the grounds far below. It took her a moment to realize that it was actually being set up to allow the princes to joust, although she honestly wasn’t sure why King Randor would allow it. If one of the princes felt humiliated, what might happen next? They should have been warned to be on their best behavior, but they were royal
princes
, unused to anyone telling them
no.