The Silent Blade Read online

  Crystals of Memory: Book Five

  The Silent Blade

  P.S. Power

  Orange Cat Publishing

  Copyright 2021

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Chapter one

  Chapter two

  Chapter three

  Chapter four

  Chapter five

  Chapter six

  Chapter seven

  Chapter eight

  Chapter nine

  Chapter ten

  Chapter eleven

  Chapter twelve

  Chapter thirteen

  Chapter fourteen

  Chapter fifteen

  Chapter sixteen

  Chapter seventeen

  Chapter eighteen

  Chapter nineteen

  Chapter twenty

  Chapter twenty-one

  Chapter twenty-two

  Afterword

  Chapter one

  Anders plunged the blade into Depak Sona’s back, without hesitation. The other man was dressed in simple clothing that day, dull and dark. A deep brown that spoke of being rather serious about the task at hand. Anders was in something similar, though in black. Trousers and a simple tunic. Made loose enough for him to move in. A thing that was truly required, at that moment, even if it was also a style choice.

  The rounded paddle in his hand, a piece of thick wood, made smooth with a rasp, jabbed the older man right beside his spine. On the left, near the heart.

  “Gah!” The tone didn’t sound pained, as much as shocked, of course. It hadn’t been meant to cripple him, just let him know that the move had taken place.

  Depak, his mentor, spun to strike at him, not being able to see where Anders was. Not that he was invisible, at the moment, naturally. That would be much harder to pull off, or so he’d heard. He was, more correctly, simply too boring to bother looking at. Which meant that he was more than a little shocked when the four others there opened up with large waves of light, flooding the practice square and leaving him rather dazzled and blind for the moment.

  They weren’t supposed to be part of the exercise, and that made it, technically, cheating. Which wasn’t a thing for him to complain about, really. Fighting wasn’t fair. That didn’t mean he wanted to try and work against five people at once constantly, but recalling that fact, the true nature of battle, while annoying, wasn’t a horrible thing, most days.

  Closing his eyes, he dropped to the ground. Holding the wooden practice blade, a thing not much longer than his pale and slender hand, between his teeth. It was needed, or at least useful, since he had to hold to his current spell, which wasn’t that powerful or draining, but did take a certain amount of skill to hold as the others blindly waved light in his supposed direction. More to the point, he needed his hands to crawl, for a few seconds. The beams of light were far too close to where he actually had been, after all.

  That the others, Princess Lissa, her older sister Princess Salina, Master Tolan and Prince Erold were supposed to be doing their own training and not going for him was of little to no issue, at the moment. It was, perhaps, cheating on their part, aiding Depak in such a fashion, of course. On the other hand, Anders Brolly had just managed to defeat three opponents in a row, using the one trick.

  So it wasn’t truly incorrect for them to try and even the playing field, a little, given that. He was being annoying, after all, winning constantly. No one loved that.

  Anders got their game, of course. Each of them, even tiny Lissa, had a stick in their hands. As soon as he dropped his current spell and they could find him, they’d run at him, and a sound thrashing would commence. Probably for real. At least two of them were rather clearly putting enough power into their simple light spells to actually hurt, when they washed over him, at least.

  Depak Sona wasn’t visible to him, since Anders was having to save his vision by closing his eyes tightly, but a soft, almost imperceptible sense of contact, of intent, rolled over him. That, he figured, was the other man using his wizard’s skills to find him on the stone floor of the practice zone. At least he was attempting to use that skill. It didn’t work, since the trick Anders was using had been designed to thwart that. If you couldn’t be bothered to notice a person with your eyes, doing it with your mind wasn’t going to work, either.

  Then, rather cleverly, Depak stopped doing that and used his new skill, the dampening technique that Anders and Far had been teaching people. Prince Erold taught that one as well, since he’d been part of discovering that it was even possible, so had greater mastery with the trick than almost anyone else, so far. That particular trick was a powerful addition to their skills, since it created an area, if a small one, where magic simply didn’t work. At least if it was done well and the person doing it had enough of that particular skill to make it worth the doing.

  A thing that was very close to not working out for Depak, at the moment. He could do the trick, but only out to about his owns arm’s length away from him. In fact, the stronger one was in traditional magics, the weaker that particular effect seemed to be. It could be made more impressive with focus and practice, but there were real limits to it. Anders was able to nearly double that affect in area. The power of the thing was about the same between them, with only that, the area of it, increasing.

  He could have done that himself, and stopped the blinding light from hitting him, of course. It was, no doubt, why everyone else cleverly had a stick on them. So that, when he made that mistake, or moved too close to Depak, they could rush in and have their fun while bruising him.

  It was a good trap, actually. If he got close enough to his mentor to strike with the blade again, he’d be visible. At least inside that magical dampening field. If he tried to use that himself, then he’d be fully visible and have to fight five people at once. A thing that he honestly wasn’t going to win, even if he still vaguely recalled some of the memories that he’d shared with the original version of himself. Farad Ibn Istel. A man who, over the course of his incredibly long life, had become one of the best fighters to have ever lived.

  He still remembered having lived it all, after being in contact with his mind. Vaguely. Except that, much like a dream, the things found there had dried up and faded over the last months. Even having done it twice more with the original version of Farad, to see if any of those skills would transfer in a more permanent fashion. The answer there, it seemed, was that he was going to be left to learn things the old fashioned and harder way.

  He nearly froze, for a moment. Then, instead of dropping the unseen field in defeat, he sprinted toward the bald man and just as he reached him, started to stab again. In the back. Five times in a row. Then he dropped back, rolled on the ground and scrambled to close his eyes again, hoping not to be left blind for real, as Prince Erold focused a rather brilliant lance of sunlike radiance in his general direction.

  This game went on for about three more passes. Then it was ended, rather firmly, by the arrival of a new player on the field. Princess Sweyn.

  She was about five months pregnant and showing mildly that particular state as a modest bump at her middle, as she moved toward her husband on the sideline. Anders had missed the arrival of the fine carriage, if one had been provided at all. The school was only a short walk from the castle, of course, and the woman was pregnant, not crippled.

  A thing that some there at the castle had missed, for some reason. The Queen had rather taken to insisting that the poor girl barely move, during the day. A thing that wasn’t healthy, of course. It meant that Princess Sweyn had taken to covert walks about the countryside, when no one was looking, simply to prevent her legs from seizing up on her. She waved to Prince Erold and spoke, her voice mellow in tone.

  “I was asked to find Pri
nce Anders, by the King?” She grinned then and shook her head a little. “Which, agreed, is a bit odd. Not that running such an errand is unwelcome at the moment. He’s been aiding me in my efforts to not be locked in a single room all the time, of late. Does anyone know where he’s gotten to?”

  There was a pointed finger, a delicate thing that had a healthy, slightly dusky, color to it, no doubt. Aimed in his direction, he had to figure. From the words. His eyes were still firmly closed, after all. That was because Princess Salina and Prince Erold were both trying to cook his flesh from his bones with their light projections, of course.

  Princess Lissa spoke, not shocking him at all.

  “He’s right there. Somewhere. Say, would you shut down magic for us? Let us...” There was noise then and Anders tried to work out what the plan was using his own wizard skills, and could sense the movement in the area, as well as some muttered whispers. Still, he simply wasn’t able to get far enough away from Sweyn before she turned all the magic off. The effect was impressive, he had to admit.

  She’d stepped out onto the stone of the practice area, near the trees on the southern side of the school building. That grand structure, his home now, blocked a portion of the sun, the cool fall day being less comfortable for it. Soon they were going to have to work out how to practice indoors, no doubt. The snows were coming, after all.

  As soon as that, the large area of no magic, developed, he was, naturally, visible to all again. Having been planning for it, Prince Erold dashed toward him, a six-foot-long staff in his hands, and swung the beastly branch at his legs with more might than one would consider polite, in a friendly practice session. That impact hurt enough to make him cry out, if with a half laugh at the contact. It wasn’t a real attempt to kill him after all.

  Just teach him not to win too often, or so it seemed.

  He was about to flee, as Princess Salina and Lissa both moved in to aid him in such learning, when Depak Sona laughed.

  “Hold. That was well done. On all parts. Now, King Matheus wishes an audience with Anders?” There was some skepticism to the words. As if sending a Princess to collect a mere Anders was well out of place. Which wasn’t wrong, truly. Even to aid her in leaving the castle, that was a bit off. A thing that he didn’t worry about, since Prince Erold was about to strike him again. The young man didn’t though, the long staff being set on the ground.

  Even Lissa stopped.

  Princess Salina hit him for a while, before doing the same. She tried to, anyway. Anders danced about, wondering if fleeing was in order. It was the magical practice area, which meant that they didn’t have a handy weapons rack to the side. His short blade, a great thing to tuck into the belt he was wearing, wasn’t up to battle against a five-foot-long piece of lumber. Not if the Princess could see him, which, at the moment, she truly could. Lacking a stick of his own was, given that, clearly a mistake.

  Thankfully, the woman wasn’t that strong, physically. He was tapped several times and there was, clearly an intent to leave some bruises, but like Erold, she focused on his legs and he avoided about half of the blows, mainly by moving back quickly. She laughed a bit. Wickedly. She was good at things like that.

  “There. That will teach you to be superior to all of us, won’t it? Hmm!” Her brown eyes flashed a bit, as she tried to sneer in his general direction.

  The only thing there was that, clearly, she wasn’t just being bratty or entitled. She was, minor pain aside, clearly playing.

  So, standing back, the attack having stopped, about a minute after Depak had called for them to hold, he bowed. A martial bow, with his hands in front of him, the right one still holding the small practice knife. In case he was attacked again.

  “I stand corrected, of course. Now, Princess Sweyn, what may I do to serve, today?”

  It was between mid-meal and the late one, already. His day had been spent in magical practice, so he was a bit hungry at the moment. The early portion had been more intense that way, since he’d taken time to work out how to build channels on the interior of stone. His basic idea had been for pipes, but Princess Lissa had, rather brilliantly, suggested they figure out how to make larger tunnels that way, for people to walk through.

  A task which had been rather brutal, to be honest. Not just in energy, either. Twice, working on the project, going slowly, since stone was hard to push around, they’d made the rock they were abusing explode. The bigger the hole they made, the larger that problem seemed to get. So far, he hadn’t worked out a way around that, either. Nothing was coming to mind about it, at least.

  Sweyn, looking pleased to have been a part of the events, dropped the magic stopping field. It wasn’t even her natural talent. Her best area was working with Devica, as it turned out. Still, it was a close thing. She also seemed to have a natural talent when it came to stopping the magic of others. Farad, Far as he liked to be called, had been working with all of them on that.

  Learning to make friends with the powerful spirits and beings of nature. He worked on other things himself, however, even if he was old and well versed in many types of magic. He wasn’t powerful that way, but had learned a few tricks, in the course of his long life. More than that.

  Even outside of asking his friends to give him aid all the time.

  The Modroc princess, who was tall, had medium short hair and a cute face, which was slightly round, due to her current pregnancy, grinned at him.

  “It is, I believe, time for us to see to travel to the south? To Modroc. Also, for these others to go back to their own home. King Matheus wishes you to go with us, I think?”

  That didn’t make a lot of sense, given he had a job to do there. As the headmaster of the university they were standing in, or rather, just outside of. A flash of annoyance crossed his mind then, for an instant. It was, he realized, the Farad portion of himself responding to his schedule being disrupted. The Anders part was actually excited enough to hear the good news of impending adventure.

  Rather than letting his displeasure be shown, he stopped for a moment and then nodded.

  “I... Well, truly, I can’t see why taking me along would make any sense. Still, most of the students are leaving suddenly, so... Well, working with Alice is still needed.”

  It was a silly idea, of course. Not that there was anything wrong with Alice Cook, as a student of magic. She worked harder than any of the other servants when it came to her lessons, in fact. At least the ones there. Jeld and Daren Willet were both still off in Yanse, with Prince Alpert. They were doing their best to improve on a daily basis. Anders knew that, since he’d checked up on them, regularly, and used magic to send them their next set of instruction, every several days.

  It was, he had to figure, incredibly bothersome of him, to do that. Still, it happened and neither man had bothered to realize that he wasn’t their commander, so had simply worked to improve their skills, regularly. Which got him to nod.

  “We can work her instruction at a distance, if it’s needed. I should... Probably attend to the King.” There could be a real reason for sending him, after all.

  Not just as a guard, of course. Having him there might help if a fight came, but the people going were all very capable, in that fashion, now. Even Princess Sweyn, who was the weakest in active magics, would be a great surprise to anyone attempting to end her with a sword or spear. Her ability to make things explode was small, but a tiny burst in the center of a man’s brain was more than enough to stop almost anyone.

  Anders had, rather, insisted she work on her aim, given that. It had meant doing the same for himself and everyone else there, of course.

  Which meant that he wasn’t going to be needed on a trip across the ocean. Not to protect anyone. At the same time, he clearly wasn’t the correct person to send as an Ambassador. The fact was that he looked to be thirteen and was, in every way that counted. Sending him in such a capacity to the Modroc might not be seen as an insult, but it could be, at the same time.

  Since Prince Erold was already going,
his own rather weak claim to being related to King Matheus wasn’t actually that important, either. Not impressive, compared to having the man’s own son right there, at least.

  Really, he couldn’t think of even a single real reason for him to be going along at all. Which, honestly, meant that he needed to be prepared for the King to be doing something else. Talking him out of going, even. He’d planned to stay and work with the new students, but the truth was, they’d only had people leave, so far, since starting. Of the three castle servants who had attended regular lessons with him, only Alice was left. There were actually a dozen people tending to rooms using magic now, but of the serious people, two had left to find their fortunes in the Army.

  Which probably meant he needed to include them in the lessons given at a distance as well. Otherwise, they might think they were free of him, or something. That wasn’t how being a magic user in Istlan was going to go. Honestly, it was part of the plans for the school there, that everyone involved was also on tap for war, if it came. That or other, less violent, duties, in times of peace.

  As he started to walk, he called off a line of spells. The first half left him clean, the dirt of the day, the salt of his sweat of his practice and almost anything on his skin, left in an instant. Flying toward the bare trees in the near distance. He waved his right hand in the direction, to show where he was putting the filth. The rest of the statement was fast, and transformed what he was wearing, even as he moved.

  “Clotha vert relen drollo, ere ot ere, doogis kal, fen.”

  That, almost instantly, with a sharp flaring of energy, put him in walking robes, in a southern style, which were a deep green, with a black dragon on the front of them. His boots were black, and in a fine enough configuration for the short walk to the castle. As he headed in that direction, not waiting for anyone else, having gotten a summons from the King, the first in some months, everyone else there followed along with him.

  It made a certain amount of sense, really. After all, while Depak Sona had a room with him, there at the school, everyone else was still living up at the castle, down the road.