A Bargain Made

Neral walked with purpose. "One must always walk with purpose," her mother had told her often, "head up, spine straight, and eyes ahead. Never look like you don't know where you're going or what you'll do when you get there. We are judged in all things."

In the hindsight provided by the journey from child to adult, she realized that her mother was speaking the truth on a great many levels. Being of noble birth from one of the most well-known and longest-surviving Houses in the land it seemed that sometimes not a breath could be taken without someone taking note and whispering their commentary at the next party or official function, though sometimes it seemed there was very little difference between one and the other.

Then there was the fact that her future in the military was virtually mandated by her House of birth. It wasn't much of an exaggeration to say that much of the military history of her land was written by her ancestors who had served on the line in almost every position, from messenger, to medic, to marksman, to leader of men; the latter leading to another point of judgment far older than her House. Mother had taught her the fine points of marching even as she took Neral to the park as a girl.

More of mother's wisdom came with drilling into her and her sisters on a near daily basis that, as a woman, she would have to prove herself twice better than the best male simply to be considered an equal. That had proven far closer to true than not, and if it were not for her family's closeness to the royal House, opportunities to rise may not have come at all, but they did and Neral knew that her job was to take them when they came and to excel in such a way that no one could question her skill. She did that many times over until she stood today as only the third woman to be placed in charge of her kingdom's military.

As much as part of her relished the battles as they came to her, she preferred peace, if for no other reason than she wasn't in a position to have to order someone's spouse or children to their deaths. Being a woman of honest introspection however, she hated that peace usually consisted of meeting after meeting, either greeting people she'd never seen before and would never see again, or explaining the same intricacies of battle or logistics to the queen's advisers over and over again. Fortunately the queen often took pity on her and aided where she could to make the time pass more painlessly.

Despite those efforts Neral would be happy to finally be home for the evening. It was a short trip from the castle to her estate. Even its placement mattered in the grand scheme, showing all her family's position near the royals themselves. She walked up the stone pathway, beginning to remove her cloak just before reaching the door, which opened just before she reached it. "My Lady." The soft voice greeted her as it always did: firmly, but as if the girl could be frightened away. "A good day?"

Neral crossed the threshold and handed Tessa her cloak, "Thank you, Tessa. It was a...normal day. That it wasn't particularly bad is always a positive."

"Of course." Tessa trailed behind as Neral walked, the curls of her copper hair bouncing with each step as she filled in her Lady on the events of the day. For her part, Neral was already focused on how she might spend the evening and how tomorrow would unfold. Part of her mind was there and part was listening for keywords from Tessa, good ones and bad, but a certain sequence stopped her in her tracks. She turned and eyed the smaller girl, "What guest?"

Those green eyes projected puzzlement and her body shied away slightly. "Deres. He said he was expected."

Neral was irritated, which caused Tessa to shrink towards the wall a bit more. "Someone knocks on the door and you let them in because they say they're expected?"

"Certainly not." She looked appalled at the suggestion. "I checked the book and his appointment was already set."

She sighed. "Show me."

Tessa hurried away and returned with the appointment book. Rifling through the pages quickly she found where the entry should have been. She puzzled at not seeing it and became visibly flustered. Tessa flipped pages back and forth thinking that perhaps she'd entered it in the wrong place. "The appointment was made. I'm certain of it. I—"

She was more annoyed for the fact that her day wasn't over and what few hours she would have to herself would be further whittled away by whatever this Deres wanted than by the fact that it wasn't entered even though the girl usually missed nothing. The young assistant could rattle off Neral's daily schedule between the time she'd finished breakfast and the time that she'd headed out to actually accomplish it.

The oddity troubled Tessa a good deal as she tried to resolve the issue in her own mind. "I...I'm sorry, it must have slipped my mind."

Neral saw the extent to which it was troubling the poor girl and took it as a sign of contrition, "Don't worry about it." she said, placing her hand gently on her aide's shoulder. "Everyone forgets now and then. I'd probably go out half-dressed most days if it weren't for you."

Tessa's eyes lit as she breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you. Again, I'm very sorry."

Neral waved it off with a flourish as Tessa once again started to trail behind. "It'll be fine. Where did you put him?"

"In your study." Her tone was once again self-assured, having taken Neral's dismissal of the issue at face value. "He declined any refreshment. Should I bring you something?"

"No, thank you." She actually took it as a good sign that he didn't want anything. Perhaps his issue could be quickly disposed of and she could still have time for a quick meal, a long bath and a book in bed.

Half a dozen steps from the door Tessa scampered ahead to open it for her. The handle turned with a loud click and the heavy wooden door to her study pushed inward. It was a large room, but not so that it lacked a sense of intimacy. The small fireplace was alive with a steadily flickering fire and the air had the spicy scent it always carried because of the oils and powders used to maintain the furnishings as well as the books themselves.

At first glance the room was empty until Neral turned to her right to see the man known as Deres, neck craned, examining a row of spines just above him. When he turned to look at her she eyed him carefully, attempting to take his measure. It was an almost reflexive habit these days that tended to cause those with softer spines to wilt under her gaze. The enlisted men often whispered that the battles she'd won came simply from staring her enemy down.

This one's spine wasn't soft though. He was a good head shorter than she with blue eyes that seemed at once piercing and playful. His body was solidly as well, as though he'd worked most of his life. Clearly he was no stranger to fighting either. His stance, at once casual but with enough tension held in the legs that told her he would be ready to move in the blink of an eye. His cloaks were dark and just worn enough to be broken in and comfortable.

Of course, he looked her over as men often did, though he at least had the class to not leer and she didn't begrudge anyone a look. Even the rank and file soldiers were allowed a glance and a daydream so long as they looked at her with respect when she looked them in the eye and did their jobs. Men were men, they were going to look and dream anyway so she may as well accept that and meet them with that unspoken compromise.

And, being honest with herself, she was attractive enough and didn't mind the looks. Tall with deep brown eyes and hair almost the same color that flowed to her shoulder, sharp features and a firm jawline with a few small scars here and there that added character. Add to that the muscle of a runner and a rider and a fighter and she knew she had appeal.

Chastising herself for the momentary lapse into vanity she focused on the stranger in her study. Extending her hand, she met his gaze, "General Neral Jaye, though I assume you already knew that as you went to all the effort come see me, and at such a late hour."

His grip was firm without attempting to assert dominance, "I did. It's my pleasure to meet you. He took his hand from hers and shifted on his feet slightly, "I didn't want to presume before your arrival, but I'm feeling a bit prickly."

The slight brush of his hand against his cloak was all the cue she needed. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

He exhaled sharply as he put his hand to the clasp of his cloak, "The old manors in this quarter were built to withstand siege as I recall. They don't lose a bit of heat, do they?"

"Since most nights have bite..."

"True enough." He rested the cloak on the back of the chair in front of her reading desk. The clothes under were more casual and loose, but didn't hide that broad chest. Add to that the piercing blue eyes and close-cropped dark hair and he was most attractive in his own way.

Eager to move things along she ignored his interruption. "I would have met with you sooner, but I'm afraid our meeting slipped the mind of my servant. She's usually very good with such things."

He waved her off, "Don't worry about it. She didn't remember a meeting before an hour ago because that's when I put it in her head."

He said it so casually, as though he were commenting on the shape of a cloud, that it took her a moment to process it and stayed silent as he turned the chair slightly to face her. "Did you say you...put it in her head?"

"I did." He said it with that same casual air. You should commend her. She was very resistant at first at even such a small thing. She's quite loyal to you, but once I assured her that I meant you no harm and I let her feel that, she was quite easy to work with."

"You're a sorcerer then?" She barely kept the derision from her voice. Magics had their uses, but only in the healing arts. It was said that its power could be nearly infinite, but most of the texts that might lead down those roads were lost to war, time, and fear of corruption. As generations passed, to her people and many of their neighbors, the fact that it could be much more was nearly myth. Even so, this Deres believed it was more and acted as though it were so and that made him definitely unhinged and possibly dangerous.

She made a wide arc around the table while still trying to appear at ease, putting it between them. She was grateful for her mother's dagger at her thigh, though she couldn't help but wonder what good it would do if he were speaking the truth. It did make a sort of strange sense, as Tessa simply wouldn't have forgotten the appointment.

" 'Mage' works for me. "Sorcerer has always seemed far too highbrow a term."

Entertaining him seemed the wisest course until she could figure out more of what it was about. "All right, Mage Deres, what is it that you think I can do for you?"

He turned the chair back to face her and rested his hands on the table. "It's what we can do for each other at the end of the day. But, for now, I only ask that you sit and listen to what I have to say. At the end, you'll know its truth. If you reject my offer I'll be gone, you'll forget I was ever here, and what will happen will happen as it was going to without me."

Those last words weighed on her. He was definitely dangerous, but maddening in her inability to read his motives. Despite her control, her frustration slipped into her words, "Why not just make me believe whatever you want?"

The first words from his mouth chilled her to the bone. "I could. Given enough time I could play your mind like an instrument." He softened his expression, offering a glimpse perhaps into...what, she wondered as she scanned him, a heavy heart? "But I don't want that. It's already been done to you quite enough and that's not what I want." Please. Sit and hear me out."

Her jaw tightened and fire burned in her eyes as she contemplated the dagger going across his throat at the implication. "What, by the Goddess, do you mean that it's been done enough to me already?"

He met her anger with calm, spreading his arms and raising his palms at the table in a sort of surrender. "I really will tell you everything. Just sit."

She sneered at him. "Why don't you just float a chair over to me, Sorcerer?"

His eyes closed for a moment before his lips turned upward in a grin before opening again to see her staring at the chair that was once in the far corner of the room dropped behind her. "No strings or anything. Sit. Please?"

Neral was at a loss for the moment at seeing what was once a mythical use of power anchor itself in reality. Listening seemed to offer her the best opportunity to compose herself and investigate this man further, so she sat and waited for him to begin, and he finally did.

"I was born in a hovel on the south side of this city. You know, one of the places you wouldn't go unless you were ordered?"

She stiffened at the reality. It was the hard edge of town. Life was hand-to-mouth for most. Nobility never went there and the military only did to quell the occasional bouts of unrest, and even then only when it threatened to spill out into the rest of the city. It was a place for people with no place. Migrants with no place to claim as their own ended up there as did petty criminals and those who had been, for whatever reason, cast off from their families. They were drawn in for whatever reason and that's where they lived their lives. Many claimed to prefer the sense of freedom it provided, but Neral couldn't bring herself to believe it.

"My mother died when I was too young to remember her face and my father died when I was six over a gambling debt in a bar, or so I was told."

"I'm sorry for both."

"No sympathy needed," he said, eyes distant for a fleeting moment, "no pity wanted. But, if you offer the former, thank you." He went back to his story. "I was taken care of for a time by some friends of his, but they had their own mouths to feed and their own problems, so I was left to my own devices. As you might expect I learned to feed myself with pilfering here or a quick pick-pocket of the middle-class merchants that come to buy the handmade wares."

He smiled at the memory and it was actually a warm one, "I got quite good at it. I still am. Anyway, I was about eight and a woman happened through. She looked like all the rest of the middle-class ones: a little dim and quick to be in and gone. I saw the hint of a gold chain peeking from a pouch at her belt. If the gold was good enough I could eat for weeks."

"You got it, I take it."

He was incredulous. "Of course I did. I told you I was good. I tracked her and I got it. But that gold chain was keeping blue stone that looked alive. Light swirled in currents in its center. Idiot child that I was I thought it was some special jewel that belonged to some grand House. If I could offer that perhaps some family would adopt me and I'd be all right."

Neral almost said she was sorry again, but stopped herself as that one really would have been nothing but pity.

"I knew my part of the world pretty well. I could weave through crowds and fit through cracks in the mortar with the best of them. Imagine my surprise when this waif of a woman came from nowhere and picked me up one-handed as you might pick up a twig. You see, I'd taken a talisman of hers that she was tied to. There was nowhere in the world I could have gone that she would not have found me."

He extended his arm, hand in a claw, grasping an imaginary neck, amused expression on his face. "Those eyes looked through me for forever. Then she grinned and let me down, telling me I had a gift." Lowering his arm, he pressed on, "Either way I was giving the talisman back, but she gave me a choice: come with her to a life in a place I could only dream of, or stay here. I had no parents, she had no children, and if I said yes, perhaps we had things to offer one another. Since the something she offered was better than the nothing I had, I said yes."

He leaned casually back in the chair, it creaking slightly at the redistribution of weight, "So off to Adar we went."

She stopped him there at the mention of the name, the disbelief readable to anyone with eyes. She failed to stifle a small laugh, "You were raised in the fairy tale city where there is no want over the mountains and beyond the wastes where nothing lives?"

He nodded, "I lived there. I was raised there. It's a beautiful city. There's little crime, petty or otherwise, and the people work together because for centuries had they not they'd all be dead. Science and magic co-exist peacefully and all lives have value. Is it perfect?" He shook his head in answer, "No place is, but it was paradise to a boy who slept under houses."

Neral folded her arms across her chest as a ward against the ever more fantastic story. Insane. Definitely.

Deres paid the gesture no mind. "Too late to make a long story short, but she raised me and taught me her skills, which I am indeed gifted in. I loved her as my mother and still do. She loved me as her child and still does."

Her head tilted, taking his measure. "Then why come back here? Why leave life in paradise to come back?"

He sighed. "Because as insane as you think I am, I may be. As horrible as it was in many ways, I miss home. I miss the cold nights and the view of the mountains and the fragrance of the wildflowers in spring." He thought back fondly, "Mother thought I was insane, too, but she kissed my forehead and wished me well as mothers do."

"Welcome home." Sincerity was lacking in her tone. He was maddening. Those blue eyes were still playful, as though he never took anything seriously, except perhaps his stories. "What brings you to me?"

"Magic," he said plainly, seemingly done dancing around the edges, "I happened to see you and your servant at one of the upper markets a few weeks ago." He turned almost shy looking across the table at her. "You really are beautiful, you know. I could have followed you around forever just for that. But the magic coming off of you piqued my interest in that it was there at all and was well-concealed. She has some skill, that one. She's not my equal by a mile, but she has some skill."

The unease came back with a vengeance, "Magic coming from me? What are you talking about? And who is 'she?'"

He shook his head and, for the first time, looked annoyed, tension creasing his forehead and brow, "I don't know yet, to be honest. My investigating of this had to be a bit more traditional than I would have liked. Ordinarily, I would have rummaged through a mind or three and found what I needed, but magic leaves a mark. I wasn't sure if she would see it or what she would do if she did. If she called on others, it would surely make things more difficult."

"She seems to be a member of one of the mercenary guilds that you and your more grand neighbors pretend don't exist because, if you only use magic to heal, surely everyone else does the same because you are to be emulated in all things, no?"

Sarcasm dripped from the last and she all but felt it. "So you're telling me some woman from a secret guild of dark mages has cast a spell on me without my having a clue?" The sheer absurdity was almost stunning.

I watched her slip into this house and presumably into your room several nights a week since I started looking around. That and I'm almost certain that the Royal House of the Kressin hired them."

A cold, dark pit formed in the center of her stomach. Kressin was a small kingdom in the Eastland that once spanned half the continent. They ruled with brutality for centuries until the noble houses there that would eventually form the basis for the five kingdoms that ruled most of the world today today led a rebellion, fracturing the Kressin.

Over the course of generations the remnants had tried everything from open warfare to sowing seeds of discontent. Why her people and those of the other nations hadn't simply driven them from existence was lost to history. Perhaps it was a misguided sense of mercy or it was punishment; a permanent reminder to them of all they had lost.