by Clark Bolton
Pulling the amulet’s chain roughly over Autbek’s head Gosom then handed it to his companion who held it up for Cachner to see. “It has strong magic, Lord Cachner.” Gosom declared. “Hardly something to be purchased.”
“Where did you get this, Autbek?” Cachner demanded to know as he resisted the urge to touch the amulet.
“As I said, my lord, I purchased it in the city from a shop. The lady I think did not know what she had and so parted with it for some gold.” Autbek said as he looked at Cachner to see if he was going to get some sympathy.
Cachner then looked around irritably at the two Comusa and then demanded to know from them if Autbek was lying. “No he does not lie.” The Comusa holding the amulet declared as if he knew it to be fact.
The questioning then turned to more mundane topics, like how long Autbek had been with Tenric and who his master had been previous to that. Autbek answered the questions when he could but refused to elaborate on anything when it involved Runeholden. This irritated the Comusa but strangely enough not Cachner, Autbek noted, who seemed to take his evasive answers in stride. Finally Cachner called an end to the interrogation when he became tired of it.
As the two Comusa left his office, shortly after Autbek was released, Cachner was a little annoyed to see Fesmbol waiting to talk with him. “Did he see you?” He asked as he signaled for the younger man to enter.
“He thinks me a protector, my lord, so it matters not.” Fesmbol declared proudly.
“Hmm, why your interest in him?”
“Same as yours, my lord.” Fesmbol said innocently. “He is the only Astrum mage in the palace and perhaps the only one of note in the whole country. That is besides Tenric, who not being of Astrum I assume you shall see off in the near future.”
Cachner gave the man a cold stare for a moment. “Don’t presume too much, Fesmbol, you’ve just come into your burgundy threads, which his lordship has had thoughts of cutting. And that Lord Bloew business of yours is enough to make me recommend he do it!”
“Ah, but my lord don’t forget that I have been bought and paid for with little chance for a refund.”
“You’re a bastard, Fesmbol!” Cachner scowled. “Bastard!” He repeated as if that word said it all.
“Really, my lord, I was under the impression that the Earl’s recognition made one’s birth legitimate and so therefore in line for the throne.” Fesmbol said with a flourish of his hand and a mock frown. “Or is it too early to take of an Astrum throne?”
“For you it will always be too early…” Cachner hissed. “…now get your insolent mouth out and mind what you tell your pet mage!”
Fesmbol pursed his lips as he held his tongue and walked to the door. “Six my lord, only six between me and your retirement.” He said with a smile as he faced the door.
“I can always find more bastards, Fesmbol! In fact you’ll find six a very low number should I choose to do so!” Cachner threatened. He was pleased when Fesmbol made no reply as he closed the door behind him.
“So why do you have such an interest in him?” Bek asked his friend, Fesmbol, after first being filled in on what had happened over the past few hours including Autbek’s interrogation by the two mage-hunters the Earl had hired.
Still in a foul mood from the way Cachner had treated him, Fesmbol turned to scowl at Bek and then he poked his finger cruelly into the side of Bek’s head. “Think! Think! Who in this palace and in fact the whole city can gaze unnoticed into any room here! Hmm, who?”
Bek slapped his friend’s hand away in annoyance. “Tenric I suppose.” He said a little angrily.
“Yes, and who is about to be expelled, Bek, leaving behind who in his place?”
“You think Autbek is that good?” Bek challenged.
Backing off a step Fesmbol replied, “Yes I do in fact think so. That Captain of the Comusa let it slip that he considers Autbek no mere apprentice. Now let’s find that sneaky little bastard, Castor, before the Comusa do.”
Autbek had made his way unescorted back to the mages wing where he found a still agitated Sterncast who had no idea where everyone else had gone. Very much wishing to hide himself, Autbek left the mage wing in search of Berdtom or Valice in hopes they could explain things to him, like why he had just been treated like a criminal. He was also hoping to find Haspeth and Castor to spare them an interrogation though he wasn’t sure how he could accomplish that.
He didn’t walk far before Castor showed up still disguised as a scribe. The kid hushed him to silence then led him to Autbek’s own suite where Castor then knocked on the door. When no one answered they opened and stepped inside and hastily closed the door behind them. About this time someone’s head poked out from the Autbek’s bedroom.
“Haspeth!” Autbek said a little surprised and a little happy to see his friend. “Do you think no one would search for you here?” He asked the man as he shook his head.
“Better than the bloody mages wing, O’t.” He said defensively as he came out to take a seat. “Everyone with any sense ran out of there already!”
“They’re not looking for you.” Castor declared as he went about poking at a tray of food that been recently left. He soon found Haspeth beside him doing the same.
“How do you know?” Haspeth asked skeptically.
“Berdtom told me. Something about the Earl calling a stop to it.”
Autbek stared at the kid for a moment and wondered how the boy could remain so calm especially since he’d been mingling with lords and mage-hunters not an hour ago. “Who … why …” Autbek said with frustration, “… are you running around as a scribe and hasn’t Berdtom told you to stop it?”
Munching on some cheese, Castor just shook his head and replied calmly. “He likes it when I do it.”
Autbek decided he just didn’t care right now and so he sank into a chair, suddenly finding himself exhausted. He then began to wonder if this was the end of his career as a mage, certainly as a Vis Mage Councilor he concluded. “I can’t see them wanting to keep us around if they are going to treat us like this.” He mumbled. “I don’t know what else I’d do.”
When a soft knock came on the door the three of them were suddenly reminded of things and so they stared at each other for a few moments until Haspeth suddenly ran back into the bedroom. “I’m your scribe!” Castor whispered to Autbek as he straightened his jacket and went to stand by the door and then motioned for Autbek to open it.
“Scribe’s open doors.” Autbek informed Castor as he prepared for the worst. When he opened the door he found it was Berdtom and Eifled. “Ohhh … please come in!”
After they sat and Autbek filled everyone in on the details of his interrogation he got to asking Berdtom some questions. “So where is master Tenric, has he been imprisoned?” Fearing if it wasn’t that then maybe his master had been thrown out of the palace.
“no … no … nothing like that, O’t.” Berdtom assured him. “He was interrogated just like you though, and since he was no lord he was not spared a visit to the dungeons. A pity we could not have overheard that conversation.”
“I tried.” Castor said succinctly after which he ignored Autbek’s glare.
“Yes, a pity.” Eifled remarked. “I normally distance myself as far as possible from court intrigue, and shall do so again starting at this moment. But first I needed to hear what these Comusa had professed to you, O’t. They are easily angered and do at times overstep their bounds, so consider yourself fortunate.”
Autbek shuddered when he thought of Gosom’s sword again. “What manner of blade could do what Gosom’s did, Eifled? The thing surely is a cursed piece of magic.”
“A searafact, O’t, each of the Comusa is given one by the cult-master. Captain’s such as Gosom tend to have the more potent ones.” Eifled informed them. “By chance could you tell what the other possessed? A searafact is not always a blade.”
Autbek hadn’t considered the possibility the other Comusa might have something similar. “No, no idea if he had on
e of these searafacts or not.”
“Well don’t tempt him to produce one, O’t, nor you Castor.” Berdtom warned. “My feeling is the Earl will keep them around but away from his mages … if and until he decides he has to deal harshly with one.”
“So what should we do?” Autbek asked, feeling very much like nothing had been resolved concerning the Comusa.
“Tomorrow, O’t, the court may very well decide what’s to happen.” Berdtom told him. “Tenric will have to defend himself, and so I think will Fesmbol.”
Autbek was unsure how felt about Fesmbol now. “He helped I guess, but I don’t like him nor trust him.”
“Afraid he will likely be a thorn in our side for a while yet. Valice has hinted that he may be more than the seventh Earl of Astrum.”
“How so, Tom?” Autbek asked as he stood up so he could pace around the room.
“Not a nephew of the Earl I would guess, O’t. Likely a bastard son and that would put him somewhere around fourth in the line of succession after the Countess’s children though one of the three is a daughter.” Berdtom mused. “The Astrums rarely have a woman head the family, so I suppose he could soon gain the title of the Third Earl of Astrum, as the family refers to its heirs.”
“Bloody great!” Haspeth announced as he finally came out of hiding.
“Yes …” Berdtom said as he frowned at Haspeth’s sudden appearance. “…it makes his fondness for you, O’t, troubling indeed. The fact that he is the first to pick up on the usefulness of you two…” Berdtom pointed to first Autbek and then Caster. “… As mages is perhaps the most troubling.”
“What about me?” Haspeth asked with a mouthful of cheese.
Berdtom and Eifled both shrugged sympathetically at Haspeth’s question. “He’ll find you soon enough and you’ll wish he didn’t.” Autbek informed him.
“Yes!” Berdom chimed. “And in a few days others will start sparing for you as well. The Earl and other nobles are recalling their sons and daughter’s as a precaution. Which I might add, O’t, shows you the power of rumors.”
Autbek furrowed his brow before stating, “You mean they’re being recalled because of this false calamity that’s about to strike the city.”
“Yes, but it’s largely an excuse.” Berdtom said as he turned to Eifled for support. “Am I right?”
“You are, Tom…” Eifled replied. “…and a bold and foolish excuse at that. The first sign of a storm is when the chicks seek the cover of their mothers, and so now I’m afraid if a storm does not show itself the Earl will have to create one.”
“Dare I ask if you have figured this all out, Tom?” Autbek said with a sigh as he came to lean his head against the wall.
“I have and I’ll share it with you …” Berdtom then paused to raise his two hands up to his ears to indicate Autbek should be sure the room was warded.”
After giving Berdtom a long annoyed stare Autbek relented and so cast his anti-scrying spell. “I really hope this is worth the many months I’ve suffered in this damn palace!”
“Ha-ha, O’t, you will never be satisfied unless the sea rises to swallow us all.” Berdtom chuckled. “The Earl wants his kingdom back that is the one his grandfathers’ so begrudgingly surrendered to Bene Aimont all those centuries ago. He is rich enough for it now … the barons of the docks have seen to that…and so with an army and a few mages...” Berdtom pointed at the three of them this time. “…and one good excuse he just might declare its return.”
Autbek shook his head and then wondered aloud, “What army?”
“A minor detail.” Eifled commented. “With money and a cause one can be grown.”
“Yes, and as I’ve said, the riches he has and now the cause looks ready to befall us.” Berdtom said as he stood to declare. “Selfish, foolish, and very real!”
It wasn’t until late that evening that the mages wing began to return to normal after Autbek led the three of them back to their rooms figuring it was best. Tenric reappeared and said little as he walked slowly down the corridors as if in shock. He did explain that Lusric was being detained and that it was best everyone remain in their rooms and didn’t leave the mage wing until told otherwise.
When morning came Autbek, Castor and Haspeth all agreed that it was best to inform the baroness that they would not be attending her party that evening. That left Autbek in the position where he felt he had to go against Tenric’s wishes and leave the mages wing to ensure a letter made its way to the baroness. He figured Fesmbol was the one he needed to get it to as that would alleviate them of the need for any further involvement.
“I’ll see if I can find Fesmbol and get it done quickly.” Autbek announced as he threw on his lord’s robe.
“You trust that lord?” Haspeth said with a frown. “Seems like he is just using you two like bloody pigeons.”
“You don’t trust any lord.” Castor remarked as he prepared to accompany Autbek.
“I trust O’t!” Haspeth said seriously. “And why do you get to go?”
“I’m not.” Castor said as he positioned a small mirror on his writing desk. “Our scribe is!” The kid then cast a spell that turned his nose a size larger and his hair a shade thinner.
Haspeth perked up as he asked, “Hey can you do that for me?”
Castor shook his head. “I can make you look like a giraffe!” Autbek shared a strained chuckle with Castor before leading the way out.
With a frown Haspeth asked, “What’s that?” As he watched them walk off.
“Read more!” Came Castor’s reply from down the corridor.
The two of them wandered slowly toward the Astrum family’s side of the palace before Autbek began to get frustrated when he noticed there were considerably more lords and ladies walking about the palace than just the day before. Castor agreed and so then convinced Autbek to wait in an alcove he knew of that was out of the way, this way Castor argued he could more quickly locate Fesmbol.
Already tired of nodes and brief conversations with numerous individuals who seemed more apt had recognizing him, Autbek agreed. He found he regretted standing in the dead-end corridor almost immediately as there was no avenue for escape should some lord or lady come wandering this way. Besides that he found the single sculpture that adorned the area depicted a turtle of some kind with a maiden perched on its back and was he decided rather hideous.
“I hope the Earl paid a lot for it.” Autbek mumbled to himself as he ran his fingers over it. He could now see that the ornate bowl that formed the foundation of the piece contained fresh water that was laced with some aromatic herbs. The miniature pool suddenly gave him an idea.
Glancing about to confirm no one was even remotely close he cast a clairvoyance spell onto the clear water in hopes of locating Fesmbol with it. The spell was one he had copied onto scrolls for Tenric a seemingly endless number of times. The better the container the more effective the spell would function and though this tiny pool hardly qualified as a proper surface he had nothing better to do at the moment.
Concentrating now on his subject Autbek attempted to make an image of Fesmbol appear but found he could not. In fact he got absolutely nothing which gave him pause for a moment. Normally he would have gotten something to flash by even if it was not recognizable but here was a complete blank.
“Tenric or someone else has warded you, Fesmbol.” Autbek muttered to himself. “Either that or the part of the palace you’re in.” He then abandoned the attempt and contented himself with leaning against a tapestry and pondering why Tenric might have done such a thing without ever mentioning it.
Several minutes pasted before he heard hurried footsteps approaching. As he poked his head around the corner he came nearly face to face with one of the Comusa that was holding a massive shield that was nearly as tall as the man was. It was not the captain, but the other one, the one who had declared Autbek had been telling the truth about the amulet. Taking a step back Autbek did his best not to look guilty of anything.
The man stared i
ntensely at him over the top of his highly engraved shield. For several long moments they stared at each other until the man finally stated, “I can smell your magic!” The Comusa then looked as if he might draw his sword, which Autbek noticed was considerably smaller than the one the man’s captain carried.
“I serve the Earl, lord knight.” Autbek said defensively hoping this would calm the man. He had nowhere to run which was what he very much wanted to do as the same whishing noise he had encounter his last time with the Comusa began to fill his head.
A woman’s voice then called out suddenly from behind the Comusa. “Who is this man?” She seemed to be questioning and asserting authority at the same time.
A moment later a man called out. “Lady Sema Astrum demands you identify yourself!”
Thinking perhaps the countess, the wife of the Earl, had come, Autbek ventured a look around the corner as the Comusa stepped back several paces. He could see now that it was not the countess but a much younger lady who had come with an escort consisting of two ladies in waiting, and a footman of some kind, as well as Castor the scribe. The scribe gave Autbek a barely perceptible shrug as if to say “she was the best I could do.”
“Forgive me my lady.” The Comusa said with an elegant bow that involved flailing his shield far out to the side and throwing his free arm about with a practiced flourish. “I am Solimek of the Comusa.” The man than turned his gaze back on Autbek. “This mage has cast a spell recently and that is why I have called him to task.”
The young lady walked boldly forward a few paces then called out to Autbek. “You are the Vis Mage-Councilor?” She glanced at Castor who nodded in agreement.
“Yes, my lady.” Autbek said as he kept his distance from Solimek who was still staring at him with a rather wild look in his eyes.
“Do you have some call to do this, Councilor?” The lady demanded to know.