A Clash of Magics by Guy Antibes (read this if txt) 📕

sun set. Brother Yvan left them to find the Okoran seer, while they settled in for two nights in Okora’s capital. Trevor escorted Reena and Lissa through the streets of Tiralina. The buildings were mostly made of a brownish-red brick with some kind of bluish slate roofs. All the windows on the first two floors had iron bars, but Trevor noticed some six-story buildings.

What struck Trevor was the small size of the capital. It wasn’t much bigger than Parkintown. He didn’t know a reason for such a thing. Most capitals attracted people from the rural parts of the country, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Perhaps with a country of farmers and herders, there weren’t that many people. The place seemed wealthy enough. The city dwellers wore nice clothes in similar styles as countries to the east, and they seemed happy enough.

They turned down a street that faced a grassy square and quickly found they were in a theater district. There were three plays and a musical presentation that hadn’t started yet.

“Shall we listen to some music?” Reena asked. “I’d like to know what music sounds like in Okora. Yvan says Jarkanese music is unique.”

Unique sounded like something that Brother Yvan would say to cover for not liking Jarkanese music. Trevor could honestly say that his few brushes with Jarkanese music weren’t positive.

They paid for their entry fees and walked into a theater three-quarters full of patrons. They sat together as the theater filled up. At least the locals had showed up in force. Trevor hoped that was a good sign.

The house lights were magically produced and dimmed down as lights in reflectors pointed toward the stage. A man wearing bright green and purple clothes entered and told jokes, half of which made no sense to Trevor. Lissa giggled at a few of them, and Reena’s sense of humor was similar to Trevor’s.

“It is a frame of reference thing,” Lissa said as she had to speak over the thunderous applause for the comedian.

The curtain opened to an orchestra. It was larger than the orchestra Trevor was used to in Presidon, but about the same size that Jeruld Kantak used in Jilgrathian productions. Some of the instruments were quite different, and when the music began, Trevor smiled, but it was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud. There was no blending of music. It all sounded discordant to him. Reena seemed to tolerate it well enough, but then as Trevor listened, he could sense some similarities to Jarkanese music.

He sat back and let his mind wander. First, he thought about what kind of music was played in Brachia, but Mara’s singing was like everything else he had grown up with. He hoped Mara’s life was everything she expected after her long absence. He thought of Keith Gorman and still couldn’t generate any misgivings about appointing him as his regent.

Trevor considered writing him a letter explaining the Jarkanese concept of beneficial equilibrium. It was an easy enough model to understand and to use. If he had more time in Parkintown, he would seek out the Dryden bishop and see if the clerics could reinforce the concept with the people of the town.

A song a few numbers later drew Trevor’s attention. He recognized the basic tune that they began to play. Part of it was made into the Presidonian national anthem. The music sounded odd, but the music was unmistakably the same. It almost made him homesick, but then he wondered what kind of anthem the Brachians had, since he was now a Brachian duke. He suddenly felt as inexperienced as a Brachian as he had as a soldier when he received his first commission in Red Forest Garrison.

Trevor left the theatre in an unexpected state of contemplation. They walked back to the inn and ate a late meal in the common room. Trevor let the two women do all the talking as his mind was intent on how to handle Listenwell.

Brother Yvan caught them when they were about to leave. He sat down and told them of his meeting with the seer.

“The king suddenly started making some odd decisions a few months ago,” Brother Yvan said. “It sounds like a familiar story. Taxes are about to go up. There are rumors of gold missing from the Okoran treasury, which is very large, by the way.”

Trevor leaned forward. “Did you tell him about our previous experiences.”

“In some detail. I know the seer. She and I trained at the same time.”

Reena’s eyebrows lifted which made Brother Yvan smile. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She will escort us to the palace for a short audience. The king has heard of you and that is why we will be able to squeeze into the king’s schedule. We are the king’s last appointment before lunch.”

“No royal banquet for a former focus?” Reena said with a smile.

“The king no longer eats in public. That is one of his new quirks.”

“Is there a queen?” Lissa asked.

“There is, but her schedule has become full in recent months,” Brother Yvan said. “It fits all the indications of a Maskumite intervention like you saw in Brachia.”

“Then we go into action tomorrow morning,” Trevor said. If there was nothing else, Trevor knew he was excellent at thinking and acting in the moment. He suspected such a moment to arise just before lunch the next day.

~

“King Bingador is a little high strung, which isn’t a particularly good trait for an agricultural country, if you know what I mean,” Morra Deepen, the Seer of Okora said to the four travelers.

Trevor looked at the lump the bandage made on Reena’s arm, visible through the sheer cloth of her gown. “But he likes seers and focuses?” Trevor asked.

Seer Deepen gave Trevor a sly smile. “Seers, not so much, but Focus Reena has a reputation, especially now that