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

“I’m always ready, and my father and I had a long talk this afternoon. He feels I should go.”

“Good,” Brother Yvan said. “Trevor and a magician of his choice will be able to return not long after we reach Collet. I suggest we take a little time and have our two most powerful magicians imbue Trevor’s sword and breastplate with magic before we leave so he can get back here on his own.”

They decided on using Glynna’s townhouse as a dedicated landing spot for Trevor even though Custik and Glynna had started their new life together in another residence.

After dinner, Trevor and Lissa followed Glynna and Custik through the still-familiar streets of Jilgrath until they came to the townhouse that Glynna had let them use before. The house brought back recent memories.

He wandered down to the practice room that had been kept clean, but the benches from Volst’s dueling club were still lining the walls.

Custik walked in with a pipe in his hand. “This is the only place in the house where Glynna lets me smoke this.” He blew some smoke rings after puffing on the pipe for a bit. I think the aroma mixes nicely with the lingering smell of honest sweat that your club generated.”

“At least someone did a good job wiping up all the blood,” Trevor said.

Custik winced at the comment. “I came down to tell you that Glynna has some dessert to make you sweeter.”

They ate in the sitting room that Trevor had used so many times before during his weeks in Jilgrath. Glynna took him upstairs to his old bedroom.

“Mark this well in your mind. We will keep it empty until you are finished with your work,” Glynna said. “You can use this house instead of seeking an inn every time you visit.” She narrowed her eyes at Trevor. “I will demand visits.”

“I can promise that.”

Glynna’s scowl turned into a more pleasant face. “Good. Make sure you do. I will expect you to say goodbye.”

Trevor nodded. Custik joined them. “You brought your cuirass?”

Trevor parted his shirt. “It fits me very well.”

“Indeed. Glynna and I can put enough power in your sword and in this thing,” Custik tapped his finger on the exposed breastplate. “It should be enough to get you back here.”

Trevor stood as the pair mumbled a vague chant as they worked on stuffing magic into Trevor’s things. He left them and walked around the square, disappointed that the armorer who had remade his Jarkanese weapons had closed his shop. A carriage was parked by one of the restaurants and Trevor was delighted that it hadn’t picked up another fare. On the way to the inn, Trevor gazed out the window at Jilgrath’s streets and realized that the city didn’t feel like it had when he arrived with Win, Brother Yvan, and Mara months ago. He didn’t know if that was good or bad, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t the same anymore.

Chapter Seven

~

T revor turned in the saddle to see Jilgrath disappear from view as they headed north toward Collet, the capital of Ginster. It felt odd that Lissa wasn’t at his side as she had been for the past few months, but between Brother Yvan and Volst’s chattering, the ride wouldn’t be dull.

Their route was shared by wagons and other travelers, taking them through farmlands until they reached a low range of mountains where the border guards were at the summit. After waiting in line for the Viksaran guards to let them through to the Ginster side, Trevor entered yet another country he hadn’t visited before, even though the Ginsterian army had drafted Desolation Boxster and him during the war fought against his father.

“Trevor Arcwin?” the Ginsterian guard asked when they reached the Ginster border post.

“That is what the papers say.”

“Any relation to the royal family in Presidon?”

“Yes,” Trevor said. “King Henry and his family weren’t the only Arcwins in the world.”

The guard grunted and let him pass.

Volst laughed when they were out of earshot of the guards. “Nicely done, and you didn’t even have to lie.”

“No, he didn’t,” Brother Yvan said with a smile. “Manwell Arcwin lived in Jilgrath. Now prepare yourself to descend into Ginster: a rocky land of trees, sheep, and goats.”

“Like Grilla?” Trevor asked.

“Bigger, with more grazing land and little in the way of a wine industry. Our orchards grow more than apples, and we actually have a farming industry, but just enough to feed the populace, so Okora is our largest trading partner.”

Volst nodded his head, but Trevor knew that Ginster had all kinds of industry, and among all those rocks that Brother Yvan had mentioned were all sorts of minerals, including quite a bit of iron. Trevor looked forward to riding through the country of his mentor’s birth. Ginster was much richer than bucolic Presidon.

Trevor didn’t know how to describe the architecture, but it was different from other places. All the villages had slate roofs, but the windows were uniformly smaller, and the houses seemed more angular with little in the way of decoration. He didn’t see a thatched roof anywhere.

Collet was about the same distance from Jilgrath as Jiksara, so they would spend one night in an inn before getting to the Ginsterian capital. The inn was much the same as any inn that Trevor had visited. Most of the patrons drank wine imported from Grilla.

“Ginster has a different feel,” Volst said to Brother Yvan as they ate a grilled lamb dinner.

“Lamb is the staple meat,” Brother Yvan said. “We often joke about Dryden sowing rocks in Ginster as he made the world.”

Trevor expected armed men to surround him at any moment, but nothing happened until they reached Collet. Guards in polished armor stopped them at the city gate and asked for identity papers if they had them.