I have to talk to him about these disappearing acts. Some warning would be appreciated, thought Tyler with consternation. More information at this point would have been welcome, but the young mage couldn’t pick up even a spectral trace. Se-Osiris had really left the area.
Tyler could sense minute surges of energy coming from the man as he looked at the company’s members. The Romanii mage was using magic to examine those waiting for him. It was to be expected from a mage, but it didn’t sit well with Tyler. He expected Zeus to provide some needed descriptions to his agent, not this rude fishing expedition. Then he remembered the distrustful attitude of mages. The fellow would still do what he was doing, even if he had been briefed. If it wasn’t that, then curiosity would be the cause of the uninvited magical examination. Whatever the newly arrived mage’s reason was, it was impolite and insulting as hell, resolved Tyler indignantly.
The trio of the exile, Tyler, and Eira were in the rear of the group. When the young man saw what the Romanii was doing, he quickly gave instructions to his guides.
“Burn him when he tries to examine us,” he told the pair.
“Isn’t that extreme, sire?” replied X swiftly.
“I meant to hurt him when he turns his magic on us,” clarified the mage. Modern expressions were bound to be taken literally by his guides, Tyler reminded himself. He had to be careful.
The Romanii suddenly flew back several feet. Tyler could see immense pain contorting the man’s eyes just as the body turned in mid-air and violently slammed into the ground. The Archmage felt a slight tingle just before it happened and assumed that was the man’s attempt at scrutiny.
“Were we too rough?” came the anxious query from Hal.
“No. Just right,” replied Tyler with amusement. Considering what happened, even his guides had doubts about the degree of punishment they inflicted on the prying visitor.
Yet the question made him remember to ask about his own health. It was a debilitating experience, after all. Even Eira, with her healing skills, had nothing to compare with the knowledge of guides regarding his body. Until they were able to separate from him and adopt material forms, the pair were its caretakers. Considering that their continued existence depended on Tyler being hale and hearty, he expected them to be the best caregivers he could get.
“Oh, how about me? Any lasting damage?” he asked, not that the mage expected any. Tyler felt fine, though a bit weak.
“None, sire. But Tartarus left a significant eldritch stain on your bones. We’ve been examining it and disdained from any attempt at removing or altering it. It has an echo of the primordial about it, and such an enigma is beyond our meager skills,” replied X.
Crap, reacted the shocked Tyler. He had expected some blowback from Tartarus, but not to that extent. At the intense, yet involuntary reaction, the grass around him died.
***
The young Archmage briefly considered his predicament and made a note of it in his mind. It wasn’t as if there’s a hospital somewhere on Adar for the problem. Considering that the guides, with their knowledge of worldly and Elder magic, couldn’t resolve that disturbing peculiarity, Tyler saw he had to live with it for now. It might mean a new complication or, God forbid, a freaking mutation, but there was nothing he could do. Even childlike Kapnos wouldn’t have an idea of what happened. For the present, a fervent prayer for the absence of any pernicious effect or deleterious abnormality would be his only recourse. Leaving instructions to the pair to monitor the anomaly, he turned his attention back to the impolite guest.
He wasn’t worried about any lasting damage to the Romanii mage. The shimmer of a magical protective field as the man hit the ground ensured against any permanent injury. The shock of a temporary concussion and substantial body pain would be the mage’s payment for his errant behavior. Tyler’s immediate thought was to reprimand his guides for such a severe reaction but reconsidered. Lessons had to be taught – right at the start.
The impudent visitor slowly picked himself up from the ground amidst the silent scrutiny of the companions. The man dusted himself, fixed his robe, stared at the oblivious sky for a few moments, and then bowed deeply to the company.
“My apologies to all. Habits are hard to break with this old mage,” called out the man. “May I approach?”
Old mage. The curious description which clearly ran counter to the Romanii’s appearance struck the young Archmage as odd.
A subtle nod from Tyler and the exile stood up, calling out permission to the visitor. The Archmage kept his eyes on the man. Cassius apparently didn’t hold his rough treatment against the company. His strides were confident, and his shoulders were held high. No resentment could be inferred from his bearing, movements, and expression. That spoke much of what the man was and what he had undergone. He appeared to take pain and suffering as part of his lot. Others would have taken umbrage at what happened. Still, this one didn’t even have a smidgen of anger or irritation on his face. Looking at him, it was as if the Romanii mage suffered nothing more than a mere stumble on his way to the company’s camp. Tyler didn’t know yet if that was a good or bad sign.
Or as patient as a bull. Enough provocation, or when he got what he wanted, this man will gore you and stamp your bloody carcass into a bloody pulp, observed Tyler. Damn. I always get the dangerous and unpredictable ones.
“One inured to the vicissitudes of life and the cruelty of men. Yet unbowed and purposeful in his movements. A deadly combination,” observed Kobu, reinforcing Tyler’s view of the man.
Eira looked at the Archmage. But Tyler, even if human, wasn’t that knowledgeable enough about men such as the one approaching them. Assumptions could be made, and he knew how misleading those little mental worms could be. Only experience could turn a theory into a notion that could be the basis for guided action or a reasonable conclusion. The young mage gave his wife a shrug, indicating ignorance about what the exile mentioned. Yet he whispered that his shadow might be right. As Cassius neared, Tyler stood up with Eira. The Romanii mage halted several feet from Astrid, who guarded their perimeter.
***
“Ave,” said the guest, his right arm extended parallel to the ground.
“Hail, Cassius,” replied Tyler as he moved to the front. He wanted Eira to remain at the rear, but all he got for his effort was a painful grip on his arm. “A rather dangerous day for a stroll.”
The visitor grinned and answered that indeed it was. From what the young mage could discern, the smile appeared genuine. Tyler’s rather droll comment was carefully intended to break the palpable tension around the camp. He feared that a statement voiced in unfortunate terms would suddenly result in a dead Romanii mage. Despite the uneasiness the presence of the man engendered, he was still an emissary of Zeus.
Or Jupiter, in this instance, reconsidered Tyler.
“No need for introductions, my friends, as I have been told of your names. Again, my apologies for the use of unpermitted magic,” repeated Cassius to the assembly, just as Tyler came close.
“And what did you learn?” asked the young mage with a tight smile and then warned. “Oh, and they’d know if you’re lying.”
“Only that what the great Jupiter said was true. Demigoddesses and accomplished humans in a company on quests only the Archmage would know,” answered Cassius bluntly. “My use of magic was also to confirm that your assembly was indeed the one I was instructed to look for. I have to admit that a cloud of power masks everyone from mere worldly magic. Truly remarkable.”
“Even the human with the bow, the ranger Habrok, I presume, is shielded from deeper magical inquiry. He does have skills bestowed upon him by a deity. That much was clear. Nor could any ability of mine glean anything from you, except for the fact that you’re human,” continued the Romanii mage, who then turned to stare at Kobu. “And this must be the exile from the land of Wa. My pleasure, Lord Kobu, as I’ve heard, that’s your name now. Human, with a shade of… “
The swift drawing of Kobu’s swo
rd and its abrupt presence at the mage’s neck was preternatural. Tyler surmised it must have also stemmed from the teleportation ability of the exile. Still, somehow, he felt it was more than a mere skill or ability. If so, then that capability of the exile was really an innate one, an assumption that would naturally lead to the conclusion that Kobu was more than human.
Cassius slowly raised both hands. All the while, the exile was staring intently at the Romanii mage. The rest of the company looked on in silence. However, Tyler could see that Habrok had fitted two arrows to his bow, Thyma looked like she was ready with a spell, and the xiphoi were suddenly in the Valkyrie’s hands. Even the young Archmage could feel a large mass of power around Eira, ready to be released. Cassius might be a singularly powerful human mage. Still, at this moment, even an unintentional mistake in his part would disintegrate him. After being thoroughly chopped to minuscule pieces.
“My earnest apologies, Lord Kobu. I assumed…” started Cassius, who stopped when the blade moved a fraction deeper into his skin, drawing a few drops of blood.
The degree of precise control shown by the exile fascinated Tyler. He had seen Kobu in battle, but had never seen the finer side of the control the exile possessed. The mage knew he had the option to step in, but it was obviously a matter of personal concern and honor for Kobu. Tyler had seen how the exile was remarkably ill-humored about such issues.
“Nothing from me then, Lord Kobu, except my profound and sincerest apologies,” squeaked Cassius hurriedly. Tyler knew that the Romanii could cast a spell and escape his situation. But Cassius apparently knew something about how deadly Kobu could be, and that his magic would not protect him from the exile’s blade. The sword even went through the Romanii’s protective magic as if it wasn’t there.
And it’s a day for apologies for Cassius. Hazing of a sort, inwardly smiled Tyler. Now, he’ll have some idea about the pecking order when it comes to companions and outsiders.
***
Eventually, matters calmed down to the tune of more calls for forgiveness from the man. But the apologies were spoken in a clear, assertive manner. As far as Tyler could tell, the Romanii truly believed that what he did was an excusable error. Given the prevailing circumstances, the young man gave Cassius the benefit of the doubt. He gestured to the visitor, and the pair, followed by Kobu, walked away from the group.
“So, what brings a Romanii mage all the way here, across perilous seas?” asked Tyler calmly.
“I’ve tried to follow you since the time I’ve heard of the rise of an Archmage. But you move too fast, and in such diverse regions, I could barely keep up even with my magic. Unfortunately, when I had the opportunity to get close, this clusterbourach happened. As a result of my fortuitous proximity, one deity took it upon himself to give me this task. One simply does not say no to the head of the gods in one’s native land,” said Cassius simply. The voice was learned and, thankfully, didn’t have any smugness about it. What the visitor stated was a straightforward narration of fact. Not a glimmer of falsehood or a half-truth could be sensed.
Clusterbourach? Clusterfuck’s educated brother?
The word was unfamiliar though it gave the impression it was meant to convey. But Tyler was caught by surprise by the man’s directness. It was a genuinely honest reply. He had expected a half-truth somewhere in the answer. The Romanii saw him staring and immediately grasped what Tyler was thinking. He grinned.
“Looking for lies? If there is one thing I have learned through my long years, it’s never to lie to one more accomplished in the art. Magic being what it is, falsehoods are easily discerned, leading to menacing and potentially life-threatening moments,” commented the Romanii with a chuckle. “More importantly, one loses the opportunity to learn.”
Strange priorities, thought Tyler. Knowledge before life.
“That could be,” replied the Archmage, who decided to shift the atmosphere into a less tense one. “But I was wondering about the beard. Mages, from what I heard and seen, usually have hair on their faces. But don’t include me there. This stubble is temporary. I plain forgot.”
A small release of energy and Tyler was clean-shaven again, with his protective gear impeccable.
“A handy trick,” he remarked after the spell cleaned up his face. It was a handy conjuration, though Tyler belatedly discovered it.
“Curious. I haven’t discovered that one yet. But about beards, many cultures do prize them though most are clean-shaven in the Imperii. Emperors love to show them off. Yet there’s no way I am going to have such a hirsute decoration on my face. A very wise hermit once told me there’s no difference between the hair down there and the mass above one’s mouth. Imagine that! Walking around with your pubic hair on display,” laughed Cassius genially.
“But why were you searching for me? That venture came before Jupiter’s involvement, and I don’t believe novelty had anything to do with it,” commented Tyler. He was learning how to manage a conversation with a possible threat. Keeping the other fellow off-balance by changing tack at opportune times was crucial.
“Knowledge. New skills. Ones to further my ambition,” answered Cassius, his eyes hardening, revealing the man’s true response to a life of pain and suffering.
He’s older than he looks, judged Tyler. He must have found a spell to delay aging. A rare bird indeed.
“And that would be?” asked the Archmage, continuing the thread of discussion.
“To be Mage-Emperor of the Imperii,” came the answer, stated simply and in a firm tone.
***
Tyler stared unbelievingly at the Romanii. Then he realized the man was serious.
“You do know what you’re saying? Your Emperor would have your head and more if he learned about it. What about the gods of the Imperii? Having ambition is a good thing, but too much of it would lead you nowhere, and I meant that in a figurative sense,” he advised Cassius.
“I know there are worse things than being simply dead. My ambitions are mine and what’s a life without one? But we’re not in the Empire, and I doubt if there are any Imperii spies in these parts. But my skill in magic is what makes me confident. There’s no other mage better than me in the Empire,” the man replied casually and stared at Tyler.
“And from what I have heard, the Archmage isn’t interested or wouldn’t be involved in pedestrian, mortal affairs. Even if they involve the fate of empires. A world’s existence is his concern,” continued the Romanii. “And the gods? They exist and walk among us at times, but they really don’t care about what men do. Humans are free to murder, pillage, or castrate each other to their heart’s content. Actually, as best as their imaginations would let them. Everything is a matter of free will provided divine boundaries are not breached.”
Cassius’s candid answer caught Tyler off-guard. It was a succinct, yet sadly accurate, presentation of Adar’s reality. But he could see the Romanii was careful in referring to the deities. Divine boundaries would be activities the pantheons reserved for themselves, in addition to the fundamental requirement that mortals believe in them.
“Why the hell would you want to be emperor?” came Tyler’s retort. It was all he could come up with. His thought processes were still stupefied by the unbelievable audacity of what Cassius professed to be his ultimate goal.
“The usual human reasons. Except for greed. I don’t believe that applies to me. If it were, my abilities alone would have been enough to create sufficient wealth to buy half the Empire,” answered Cassius.
“Cassius, we are human. Our motivations drive us. What’s yours?” countered the Archmage.
“Suffice it to say that I haven’t had a normal childhood. Being magically-gifted during a time when magic was outlawed in the Imperii wasn’t conducive to a life of ease. Add to that being a scion of a branch of a noble family who posed a threat to the advancement of other familias within our gens, the penchant for murder and assassinations by the noblest of the noble, and it’s a recipe for a tragedy,” said Cassius simply.
“This is all simple revenge?” exclaimed Tyler. He had expected something more dramatic, more profound. Taking over an empire as an act of revenge was unexpected. It seemed petty, underwhelming.
“You could say revenge is one of my goals. It’s a mundane matter. But ultimately a part of what drives me,” continued Cassius, never changing his voice’s casual tone. “My broader canvas involves a better Imperii. Vengeance is but a payment to be demanded along the way. But my fees will be high, that I could say with confidence.”
Tyler was sorely tempted to ask for details of the tragedy implied by Cassius, but sensibly refrained. Disclosure of the tribulations which could drive a man to attempt the rarefied heights of magic and dream about a wave of vengeance on an entire empire was best left to the victim. Tyler could only conclude it must be great indeed to result in such a focused and collected demeanor. A carefully planned retribution aided by extreme focus and discipline was likely to succeed. And being the best mage in one’s realm hugely helped along that plan of punishment.
The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk) Page 22