Spirit Speaker

Corel was a small fishing town. Very small. It had very little strategic significance. The land had been ruled by the count's family for a few hundred years, and under their leadership, the territory had squandered its potential. 

What could have been a major trading port was little more than a collection of houses on the beach. 

Things were looking up, though. 

Count Dreth was an Academy graduate, and was using what he learned to make life better for his citizens. 

He had negotiated trade deals with the local barons and lords, buying up seed and stone, and other raw resources, and was converting them into usable products, growing the seed into vital crops, hewing stone, lumber (which his land had in abundance) and clay into building materials, and metal into components, weapons and tools. 

He would then sell them back to the lords and barons at a premium. 

Thanks to his business savvy, he was becoming vastly wealthy very fast, and he was using this wealth to improve the infrastructure of his realm. 

I liked Count Dreth, having attended the Academy with him. Although he had only been in power for a few years, he had done more for his people than generations of his family before him. 

"I have a question, Master," Rowan said, struggling with my bag, interrupting me from my musings. 

I steadied him, grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. He wasn't adjusting well to walking on land again. He'd only been on the ship for 3 days. 

"Ask away," I said, enjoying the fresh sea breeze.

"How long has it been since you started teaching Lady Anna?"

"A few weeks," I replied absently, studying the village around me. The people were happy, smiling and laughing as they went about their business. 

"Ho, sir," I said, raising my hand and stopping at a fishing stall. "Is there a festival? Why are the people so happy?"

The fishmonger shrugged. "The count is making us rich, sir." He said simply. "Thanks to him, I can give my family more than fish head soup for dinner." 

"I see. Can you direct me to his castle? I need to talk to him."

"Castle?" The man shook his head. "The Count doesn't have a castle. He tore it down and sold everything inside to pay for his projects."

"Where does he live then?"

"Over there." He pointed up the street to a larger wooden building at the end of the main road. 

There were no gardens, no spires, no banners, no trappings of power. 

Just an open gate and two guards sitting under a pavilion. 

"I see. He hasn't changed a bit." I tossed him a couple of coins. "Can I have some fish?"

"Aye, here you go." He said, handing it over to me. 

I thanked him, took the fish from him and handed them over to Rowan. "Think you can store this somewhere?"

"Can't you just magic it?"

I nodded. "I could, but then what would I need you for?"

Rowan laughed and wrapped the fish in parchment before putting it in his pack. 

"Anyway, you were saying?"

"So, it's only been a few weeks? Why is the king entrusting you with this mission?"

"It's a test," I replied simply. I shifted my bag to my other shoulder. The strap had twisted and was digging in my skin. "The king wants to know how capable I am. I imagine he has plans for me."

"So he sent you here?"

"Yes, with very vague instructions. If I do well, I've passed the test."

"And if you don't?"

"No idea. I've only ever failed once." I said and rubbed my chest where the spear had pierced it. 

With disastrous consequences. 

I looked at my servant, the worry poorly hidden in his face. I patted him on the shoulder. 

"Relax, lad. Quint owes me a few favours. I think he owes you some as well."

"It's been a long time since the Academy, he could have changed. Power corrupts, sir."

"I'm not worried at all. Irena would kill him."

"Do you mind if I worry a bit, sir?"

I grinned. "If it will make you feel better."

*

The guards at the front gate stood as we approached. 

"I don't recognise you." One of them said gruffly. "State your business."

"Oh, master, here." Rowan dug into one of the bags and pulled out a small metal badge. He handed it to me. 

"Royal messenger," I said, holding it up. 

The guards stood a little straighter. "Greetings, lord." This time the guard's tone was deferential. 

The Royal Seal held the same authority as the king. Of course, it meant my head if I misused it. 

"Can you take me to see the Count?" I asked. "Something urgent has come up."

"Yes sir." The guard raised his fist, and a young man, probably no older than 14 came running up. 

"Yes, Sir Bolton?" 

"Take the royal messenger to the waiting room, and inform the Count of his arrival."

"Yes sir." 

The boy led us through the iron gates, and down a short, well worn dirt path, into the building. 

It was neat, clean, and utilitarian. Just like the Count. 

"See? You were worried for nothing. He hasn't changed a bit." I said, glancing around the room.

Rowan didn't reply. 

There were no decorations, save for a few paintings of landscapes. There were no carpets, no trophies. Nothing to indicate that this was the ruler's residence. 

This isn't to say the place wasn't busy. People were constantly moving back and forth between various desks and windows, with clerks and secretaries marking down reports into ledgers. 

The boy led us deftly through the passage, up a staircase, to the second floor, past a few guards who looked at us suspiciously, but said nothing as they let us pass.

"Here you go, sir. I'll just let the Count know that you've arrived."

"Thank you, lad." 

The sitting room was no different to the rest of the building. Simple, utilitarian. A large, glass window let in light, giving me a full view of the village. 

No cushioned seats, just a few benches. 

I was impressed. 

I wouldn't have been in my past life, but now, order and convenience trumped pomp and opulence every single time. 

"This place is…simple," Rowan said, "It reminds me of his dorm room." 

"It's brilliant," I responded. "The Count has put his people first, and it shows."

"It's not his people I'm worried about, sir. It's the nobles. They won't respect him if he doesn't put on just a little show of power." 

"If I know Quint, and I like to think I do, the other nobles can hang for all he cares." I waved my hand in a circle, my index finger up. "See? The Count seems to think that hard work, and dedication will earn him more respect than fancy halls and towering spires." I looked out the window. "You saw the people out there. That wasn't respect that that fishmonger had for the Count. It was love."

"Love can't stop assassins, sir. There is more to ruling than the love of the people." Rowan replied, under his breath. 

"No, lad. Love is the most important thing. If your people love you, they will serve you far better than if they feared you." I tapped my fingers on the wooden bench. "It is better to be loved than feared." 

"The Count will see you now." The boy returned, bowed deeply and left. 

*

The Count's office was little more than a desk, some chairs, and a clock on the wall. Sitting at his desk, his head buried in a pile of paperwork was Count Dreth. 

He was a young man. Well built, though he seemed to be picking up some weight around the midriff. 

His wife, Lady Irena, was sitting beside him. 

She saw me first. 

"Lukas? Rowan?" She rushed over to me, wrapped her arms around me, and squeezed the breath out of my lungs. 

I coughed. "Hi, Rena," I said, gently disentangling myself from the Countess. 

She turned her attentions to Rowan. "Is Ayenna not feeding you, Rowan? You're a stick!"

"She sends her love, Rena."

"That's nice."

The Count stood from his desk, a broad grin on his face. 

"It's good to see you, my friends." He said and shook my hand warmly. He then shook Rowan's. "I'd heard you'd been hijacked by the king. I thought you were supposed to be educating the princess? Why are you doing a messenger run?"

"The king is testing me." I said with a wry smile. "He wants to see if I can do more than teach."

"Well," Count Dreth pulled me to the chair opposite his desk. "Let's see if I can help with that. But first, Rena, if you wouldn't mind asking one of the maids to bring some wine?" 

"I was about to suggest that very thing." She left the room. 

"How have you been? You're looking about the same." The Count said, eyeing me critically. "Still too thin."

"It's the elf in me," I replied, shrugging. "I'm eating well enough, I just can't seem to put on any weight."

"You're not much better, Rowan. Is there a food shortage in Arantha?"

"No, sir, I'm much like Master Lukas. I can't pick up weight either."

"So the total opposite of me then," the Count patted his belly, "Still, it's one of the risks of wealth. You tend to get fat."

"That's actually what I came to talk to you about." I said. "The new mine you've opened up."

"Right, the gem mine. But it's so much more than a gem mine. Look at this." 

The Count opened one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out a clear crystal. To the untrained eye, it looked like clouded glass.

I didn't have an untrained eye.

"Is that?" I said, my eyes wide. 

"Spirit stone." The Count nodded, handing it gently to me. "And there's tons of it down there."

"This…changes things," I said, turning the crystal in my hands. "And look at the purity. There's barely any markings." 

The count nodded. "I know. I've never seen anything like it." 

Lady Irena came back in, a large carafe of wine in her hands.

"You have to try this, Lukas." She said, pouring a goblet for me. "It was made from the new vineyards that Quint set up."

I took a deep gulp. "It…how does it taste like honey? Rowan, get over here and try this." 

"Yes sir." Rowan took the goblet from me. He took a sip. "Sir, it doesn't taste like honey, it tastes like strawberries." 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"I could've sworn it tasted like honey." I took another sip, and the undeniable taste of honey hit my tongue.

"You're both right. There's something special about this wine." The Count filled another goblet and handed it to the Countess.

"According to the farmers, there have never been larger yields," Irena said, handing the filled goblet back to the Count. "And you have to see the grapes, they're the size of apples, but still just as sweet as they're supposed to be."

I took another sip, and my thoughts strayed to a late night at the Academy, the four of us sneaking off campus to join the city harvest celebrations. 

I shook my head. 

"It happened to you too, huh? Where did you go?" The Count leaned forward. 

"Our…second year in the Academy. We escaped for the evening, and joined the harvest festival." I looked at the two of them suspiciously, they were grinning from ear to ear.

"What?"

"We think a memory spirit has taken residence in the vineyard, and that's what's causing the flashbacks." 

"You could always ask a mage to take a look, you know."

The count grinned. "Don't have to now that you're here. Besides, I'd rather avoid antagonising it. It's doing great work there." 

"So…the wine is different for everyone?"

He nodded. 

"You do know that this stuff is going to be world-renowned, right?"

He nodded again. "So, what did the king want?"

I shook myself free from my thoughts. "Yes, to business. The Merchant's guild is planning on petitioning the king for exclusive rights to the mine. The king needs their support to combat a particularly nasty faction of aristocrats, but doesn't want to hand them any more power."

"So you need me to act as a go-between?"

I shook my head. "No, he needs you to head the negotiations. They would have been happy with a small stake in the mine, but after this," I raised the spirit stone "I don't think they would stop short of total control."

I turned the crystal in my hands. "To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if this discovery led to a full-scale invasion."

The Count's eyes widened. "You're…right. Damn it. This discovery is terrifying."

"I need to contact the king. Do you have an empty room I can use?"

"You could use the greenhouse," Irena suggested. "There's a really friendly rose spirit in there that should be able to help you get your message through."

"That would be perfect. Thank you, Rena. I'll be right back."