Lusam: The Dragon Mage Wars Book Three (65 page)

The celebrations seemed to stretch on and on in Lamuria, and Lusam had done his best to avoid as many of the celebratory events as he possibly could. Neala had berated him for it on several occasions, telling him in no uncertain terms that the people deserved the chance to meet him and express their thanks openly for what he had done for them, but he paid little attention to her words. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful for their efforts on his behalf, quite the contrary in fact, but he had never felt comfortable amongst large crowds of people. He had spent his entire life trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, so now, to suddenly be amongst crowds of hundreds, if not thousands of people, all wanting to speak with him or shake his hand felt daunting, to say the least. He knew it would be hard for Neala to understand how he felt because she grew up amongst a large group of people, but
he
had only had his grandmother, then later only himself as company as he grew up. He knew he only needed more time to adjust, but that time was fast running out, as the day of the grand banquet loomed ever closer.

The King had insisted that Lusam stay as an honoured guest at the Royal Palace during his stay in Lamuria, and no matter how long he intended to remain within the city, he would always be welcome there. At first Lusam had tried to politely refuse the King’s offer, but it soon became apparent to him that it was more than a simple request. The best he managed to salvage from the situation, was to request that Neala be allowed to join him there, to which the King readily agreed. He wasn’t sure if Neala would be angry with him or not, but it soon became apparent that she was overjoyed at the chance to spend some time in the Royal Palace—especially with all its treasures.

The King had assigned Lusam and Neala over a dozen servants to attend to their every need, and by the second day within the Royal Palace Lusam felt like he was suffocating with their constant overzealous attentions. Lusam was sure he had never spent as much time in an outhouse as he did that week in the Royal Palace, not because he needed to be there, but because it was the only place the servants didn’t follow him. But even then, whenever they seemed to feel he had been in there for too long, they would ask through the closed door if he was alright, and enquire if they needed to send for an apothecary to ease any upset stomach he might have.

He never thought he would, but he actually looked forward to his daily meetings with the High Priest, when he helped to recharge the city’s power crystal. At least he got the chance to leave the Royal Palace and spend some time alone, even if it
was
only for the short walk to and from the High Temple.

During one particularly annoying session, both he and Neala were forced to remain almost motionless for the best part of three hours, while various tailors and seamstresses took a multitude of measurements and pinned numerous lengths of multicoloured cloth to them both. Apparently the clothes they were wearing were less than suitable for the grand banquet, and something more ‘
appropriate
’ would be made for them to wear in time for the big event.

“You’d think they’d just be happy you saved the city,” Neala grumbled under her breath, shortly before being stuck by yet another pin. Lusam chuckled, but was also rewarded by a sharp pin prick.

“Please try to remain still, sir,” the tailor said, without a hint of an apology.

“I’d be careful if I were you, he turned the last person who drew blood from him into a toad,” Neala said with a perfectly straight face. The tailor’s face instantly paled as he looked between Neala and Lusam for any signs of humour, and when he didn’t find any he took a step back, as if to assess his own work.

“Yes… yes, I think we have enough here to work with, sir,” he said out loud, quickly dismantling his creation, and being very careful not to prick Lusam with any of the pins he removed. There were no words exchanged between the tailor and the seamstress, but she too had her multicoloured reams of cloth and silks dismantled and stowed away even before the tailor had finished his own. With little more than a perfunctory bow, they both disappeared through the door, closing it firmly behind themselves.

“That was very mean of you,” Lusam said, grinning widely.

“Not as mean as what I was about to do to her if she stuck me with another one of her pins,” Neala replied, grinning right back at him. Lusam glanced at the door, almost feeling sorry for them, then he realised—they were finally alone. Four strides later he was at the door, the key turned with a slight clicking sound locking out the rest of the world on the other side. It was the first time in weeks he had been alone with Neala, and he wasn’t about to waste a moment of it. He turned back towards her with an even wider grin on his face, and saw her brandishing one of the seamstress’ pins menacingly at him like a miniature sword.

“If that’s supposed to scare me away, you should know that I once had a beautiful blonde girl stab me through the foot with her knife, and that didn’t work either,” he said grinning and slowly stalking towards her.

“I did not!” she squealed, dropping the pin and attempting to slap his arm. He caught her hand and pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her passionately as they both fell to the floor in each others arms—neither of them responding to the later knocks at their door.

The day of the grand banquet had finally arrived. Lusam found himself wide awake even before the sun had fully crested the high cliffs, so he decided to go early and make his magical contribution to the city’s power crystal. He had trouble sleeping all that night, and knew there was no point in trying to go back to sleep whilst his mind raced with all the possibilities of what was to come later that day.

Until a few days ago, he knew nothing about the political complexities of Afaraon, let alone how to act in the presence of Royalty, or even the lesser nobles that would be attending the grand banquet. During one of his early visits to the High Temple however, the High Priest had struck up a conversation with him regarding the Royal Palace. At first he had kept the conversations simple, mostly enquiring about how his stay at the Royal Palace was going, and had he met this person or that yet?

By the third day Lusam had begun to become a little suspicious of the High Priest’s real motives for asking all of his questions, and decided to confront him over the matter. If he was honest, Lusam didn’t much care for the High Priest. Up until that point Lusam had thought of him as a slightly conceited, self-important man who liked to revel in his own lofty position. But after he confronted him about his earlier questions, Lusam’s opinion of the man began to change considerably. It quickly became apparent that the High Priest had Lusam’s best interests at heart, and had been simply trying to comprehend the level of understanding Lusam had about the political system of Afaraon, before being ‘
thrown into the lion pit with them,
’ as he described it.

Lusam had already been nervous about the grand banquet, but by the end of that first day discussing it with the High Priest, he was positively terrified. He was warned that he would be used as a tool—or even a weapon if they could—between various warring noble houses. They would stop at nothing to gain his trust, and that of his closest friends. For anyone to even be seen speaking with him at the grand banquet, would gain them favour amongst the other noble houses. Friendships, were apparently traded like commodities amongst the nobles—even perceived friendships—therefore he should be very careful not to spend too much time talking with any one person there. He should expect to be showered with expensive gifts from the various noble houses, each one trying to outdo the others. He should accept the gifts graciously, but show no preference to which was his personal favourite, even if asked directly—which he surely would be, many times over.

By the end of the first day speaking with the High Priest, Lusam’s mind reeled with all of the implications. On the second day, the High Priest insisted that they held their ‘
discussions
’ within the inner sanctum, where they could not possibly be overheard by anyone. Apparently, he felt that even his own position within the High Temple was vulnerable to the politics of Afaraon, should he be discovered giving Lusam any guidance in the matter. One of the biggest shocks Lusam had, was when the High Priest pointed out the King’s own gift to him; the statue. No noble in the land could offer such a gift, and by doing so, the King sought to gain the loyalty of Lusam above all others. The High Priest had even suggested that Lusam should single out the King’s gift as his favourite during his speech to the gathered nobles and dignitaries. Lusam almost choked when he heard he would have to stand up in front of everyone and make a speech, but the High Priest said he would help him prepare for it, and for that Lusam was very grateful.

For each of the six days Lusam went to speak with the High Priest, he always expected him to ask for something in return—but he never did. And as Lusam got to know him more and more, he actually began to like the man. He could clearly see how he relaxed as soon as they entered the inner sanctum, and how his official bearing returned as soon as they left it again. Lusam began to understand why he had to be as he was—two men; one who fulfilled his official duty as the High Priest, and the real man who was hidden beneath, and unable to show himself in public.

Lusam took his usual route from the Royal Palace to the High Temple that morning. He hadn’t expected to see many people on the streets at that time of day, but he was surprised at the number of people there actually were. It was positively buzzing with activity around the Palace grounds, with various tradesmen and deliveries being made for the upcoming event. The streets quietened down again the further from the Royal Palace Lusam travelled, and it wasn’t until he was nearer the High Temple that it began to get busy again.

Lusam had heard rumours that ever since
The Heart of the City
had become visible in the sky again—after over two centuries of absence—people had begun to gather there at first light, to appreciate the incredible spectacle as the first rays of sunlight hit it each morning, and it seemed the rumours were true. Dozens of people lined the street, all looking up at the beautifully glowing crystal as it caught the first rays of light from the morning sun as it crested the high cliff-tops. Lusam tried his best to remain unnoticed as he walked past the crowds of people, but he only got a few short strides before the whispers started. Lusam lowered his head and continued walking towards the High Temple, pretending not to notice the whispers coming from the growing crowd.

“Sir… sir. Excuse me, sir,” a woman’s voice said from the crowd. Lusam glanced in the direction of the voice and saw a young woman holding a small baby in her arms. Lusam paused for only moment, but it was long enough for the woman to step away from the crowd towards him. He met her eyes, and saw fear within them, but it didn’t stop her advancing towards him, her baby clutched tightly in her arms. By the time she reached Lusam, he could clearly see her trembling with fear, and when she spoke, he could also hear it in her voice.

“Sir, I’d like to thank you for what you did for us. For all of us,” she said turning towards the other people in the crowd. “May I ask your name, sir? So I may tell my daughter who it was that saved her life when she is older.” The crowd became deathly silent, all waiting for Lusam’s reply, and the woman’s trembling seemed to increase with every heartbeat he didn’t respond. He smiled at the young woman, hoping to ease her anxiousness, even though he was feeling more than a little anxious himself.

“My name is Lusam, and you don’t need to be scared of me,” Lusam replied to the young woman, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. She flinched as he raised his hand towards her, but to her credit she never moved. Lusam could feel her trembling under his touch, and he felt very guilty for causing such a reaction, even though he had done nothing to warrant it as far as he knew. She managed a nervous smile at him, then averted her eyes and bowed her head.

“Sir, may I beg a Guardian’s blessing for my child?” she half whispered through her fear. Lusam suddenly realised why the people of Lamuria looked at him the way they did; they believed him to be an actual Guardian.

He knew the Guardians of old had been practically revered amongst the people of Afaraon. They had held almost godlike status amongst the population back then, and their legend had only grown since. Most people never got to see Aysha in their lifetimes, but everyone was able to see the Guardians back then. Renn’s words echoed in Lusam’s mind, about people believing in only what they could see, and wondered exactly what was going through the minds of these people, as well as everyone else’s in Lamuria right now. He needed to stop these rumours, and quickly, before they took a firm hold within the population.

“What’s your name?” Lusam asked the woman softly.

“Ella, sir,” she replied, still averting her eyes from Lusam’s.

“Please, look at me, Ella,” Lusam said, and waited until she raised her eyes to meet his. “I am not a Guardian, do you understand?”

“But, sir… I don’t understand, we all saw what you did out there to that Empire army,” Ella said, looking towards the southern wall of the city and the valley beyond.

“That was only my magic,” Lusam replied, as if that would be enough to explain away the things he had done.

“Forgive me, sir, but everyone knows that all magic comes from the grace of Aysha herself, and those she favoured the most were once the Guardians. That was why they held such incredible power, just as you do now, sir,” Ella replied, once more averting her eyes from Lusam’s. Lusam took a deep breath and held it for a moment, before sighing it out again. There was no way he could explain to these people that he held only a fraction of the power of a true Guardian, let alone how he acquired that power. He thought the best thing he could do right now, was to continue denying he was a Guardian, and hope that once they eventually left Lamuria behind, life would once again return to normal—something he was beginning to doubt would ever be possible again.