Fletcher

by P. S. Power

  Anders had to think for a bit, then shrugged.

  “If I can do it at all, we might be able to convey to her that she should ask about those troops. Then Master Tolan can read her mind, and get the specifics, without having his head chopped off for invading the King’s mind. I… Really, it will take me a bit to set that up, if it works at all. Do you want me to try?”

  There were new magical words that would be needed. For instance, Aisla, by name. He only wanted to reach out to a specific woman, after all. That could be done, now, he knew. It wasn’t all that useful for most things he dealt with but if he wanted her attention, that was going to be needed. Then a very brief message that would cause her to think of the correct ideas well enough she knew what to collect for them. The whole thing was a lot more complex than he would have guessed, once he started to put it together.

  Still, it could be done.

  If she thought of him as a son of sorts, then she was at least as close as a Mother of a kind. It wasn’t a lock of hair or a patch of blood, but there was no reason it couldn’t work going both ways. The others sat there, as if he was supposed to do it right then.

  Closing his eyes he entered the hallway of magic, building new concepts, linked to special nonsense sounds that weren’t in any language he used. Then, an hour later, he opened his eyes, the men all still looking at him.

  “I was just getting ready. Now…”

  “Min-Aisla-Andersana troopa marchin, fen ot…” Then he waited, focusing on the ideas he wanted to send.

  “If I did that correctly, she should feel a simple, but overwhelming urge to consider me, so she knows who’s calling for her, troops and marching out. If the riders haven’t reached the castle with the message yet, or if no one told her of it, then she’ll probably be baffled by it. Annoyed too, since I’m still holding the feeling. It could take a while for her to get it.”

  That part wasn’t too bad, since a few minutes later a simple sense came back from her. Saying hello, without anything specific at all attached.

  “It worked. At least to the point of us being in contact. Now… Master Tolan, could you reach out to her mind?”

  That came out feeling like more than a suggestion. Anders rolled his eyes, ready to apologize. The man simply nodded and closed his eyes for a few moments, dropping into a trance. That was seen since the speed of his breaths slowed, almost to stopping.

  Then, ponderously, he spoke.

  “She is aware of me. Also, that Anders was asking if the troops have marched yet. They have. We have three thousand men under arms marching now, with more mustering. They should reach us in nine days. She will stand ready to pass messages thusly, each night at this time. It will be harder going the other way, though she thinks that Anders should attempt it.” Then the man opened his eyes, sitting still for some time.

  Captain Horner shook his head.

  “That’s amazing. I’ll work up a report each day. How long can that be, Master Brolly?”

  Short, wasn’t going to be a good answer.

  “No more than a few words, if possible. It comes across more like an idea and the more complex it is the less certain it will come across correctly. We can’t do a lot that way, I’m afraid. We should try, anyway.” It was good practice and he’d already made up a word for a specific person. Not using it regularly seemed like a waste of effort.

  Master Tolan nodded.

  “Indeed. That you can contact her like this without a token from her is amazing. Can you do that with anyone? If so, then I think I must resign as the castle Wizard and put in to be your assistant. That I can reach out over the distance, passively, is why I have the job I do now. I cannot go the other direction easily.”

  Anders smiled. When he was going to try to explain, feeling awkward again, for the second time in the last few hours, Alpert shook his head.

  “Probably not. Aisla is from Barquea, which is the answer she explained to me, when she mentioned her ability to do something similar with Anders.”

  Turning to the Captain, he explained the idea, rather bluntly.

  “In her homeland, men often take more than one wife. They all raise their children together. So, to her mind, Anders is her own son. That creates a bond of sorts, even if she’s stayed away from him at my Mother’s request.” He started to say more, then stopped, sighing instead.

  It was what Anders had used to reach her, though having a name, one he made up for her, had been enough. He didn't feel that close to her, after all. That should mean, if he knew a person well enough, having met them even a few times, he might do the same with them at a distance.

  Which, if he had it right, meant that he might affect that person even away from his own body. Setting Aisla on fire to see if that would work seemed a bit on the annoying side, so he let that part go.

  Though…

  That felt like it had worked because she was known to him. A specific person, that was indicated in his mind. If he could name a rock, say, and learn it as a specific rock, then could he influence it from a greater distance? The idea was cumbersome, while also being thrilling. The trick would be in doing something that would allow him to learn of it, without being destructive.

  Part of him wanted to see if he could make a name for the writing table in Depak’s room and set to moving it around on him. The problem there was that he didn't know if the man would mention that happening to anyone or mistake an innocent prank as an attack on his person.

  What could work, he thought, was something like making up a specific word that meant, say, fish. Then seeing if he could call one of those to him at a greater distance. He had a hand signal for that already, which worked, so it was possible. That was only inside ten paces.

  Reaching past that barrier was a thing that no one had mentioned to him. Depak Sona hadn’t done anything that seemed to be him doing that too overtly, either.

  Thinking, Anders decided that was a thing to test in the morning, when he had both light and was away from the people around him. Master Tolan, in particular. His magic was different but it was clear that he understood the basic rules. If he saw young Brolly breaking them too overtly, that might not set with him well. Worse, it might merely impress him too much.

  Twelve-year-old boys weren’t supposed to be impressive. Not really. Doing too many things like that might just have the man seeking to read his mind. If he did that, it was very possible that he could find out that, inside, he was different than he seemed. Then both of them might die, since people wouldn’t simply believe that lazy Anders Brolly, the worst of the castle messengers, was merely different now.

  It was true, after all.

  A thing so obvious that even one more clue could lead an army of attackers to his door, in order to take his life and that of the young boy who was stuck inside, mixed with him in a way that seemed to be tighter every single day. The longer they were there, together, the more alike they became. The less often Farad felt himself as separate from Anders.

  Which didn't mean understanding the true rules of magic wasn’t a grand plan. If he could do even a few small things that others found difficult, it might give him an edge in life. Anything he did that way, learning new skills, might benefit him. For one thing, no one knew what the future would bring. Not past a few days to come, at any rate.

  There was a nod from Captain Horner, a tightening of the lips and then a frown.

  “I’ll need more than that. At least a few lines. Work out how to do that. By tomorrow?” There was no smile to go with it.

  The others seemed to think it was funny, him being told to do that kind of thing. The thing was, the basic idea was a thing that he’d heard of before. Or, to be more exact, had read. It was possible to send messages, by sending simple syllables to the minds of others. Instead of thinking of troops, he could send things as sounds that replayed over and over.

  That kind of thing was going to be complicated. The idea was in a book that he’d memorized. The magical system was totally foreign to him, however. Still, if n
ot by vocation, his hobby had been languages, which meant Farad Ibn Istel understood what would be needed to send the sounds that made up words.

  He would need to learn forty-eight new magical words for it and it would only ever be good for sending thoughts to the minds of others, that they could hear as words.

  “All right. It will take me a few days. I have an idea. It may not work.” If it did, he’d need to find a way to swear everyone there to silence. As it was, Master Tolan had stopped chuckling with the Prince and was simply looking at him. Suddenly seeming to wonder if it might be done.

  Recalling what he already knew, it was clear that not only was it possible, it was a thing that others, long ago, had been taught to do often. It wasn’t even a special portion of that specific magical school. It was just a thing that had been known. Many schools of magic had used something similar, in order to pass information over vast distances. That idea was exciting. Also, rather dangerous.

  Mainly because he, little Anders Brolly, knew that it could work. Not how to do it, exactly, perhaps. That portion of things seemed intuitive to him. A thing that left a taste of fear in his mouth. After all, it was one thing to memorize a book. Another to come up with some basic hand gestures that allowed faster access to specific magics.

  He was talking about inventing a complex system that didn't seem to exist out in the open any longer. That spoke of him having talent in the arts of magic. Something beyond what anyone might have done with just a hint of training to get them started.

  Worse, as Depak Sona had mentioned, there, in his head, were nearly twenty ancient tomes of magic. If he paid even a little attention to what was in them, he might well end up being very powerful in the end. A thing that left him uneasy.

  Farad couldn’t help but wonder if his old student and friend, Ganges, had started along a similar line. First getting a taste of power, then wondering what else he might learn, peeking into the works inside his own mind for inspiration.

  Rather than panic, he simply stood. Not bowing, even if the habit tried to rear its head. It was dark out, and he stood in the light. People could see him at a great distance, given that. If they were watching.

  “We should go over that information you wanted, Master Tolan.”

  After all, that would give them something to do, other than realize how painfully obvious it was that Anders Brolly wasn’t himself, any longer.

  Chapter twenty-four

  Anders sat on the shore of the lake, the soldiers drilling on spear work behind him. This was for the foot and even if he’d been taught the basic drills and commands, his size would throw the line off enough that no one wanted him to be in it. That portion had been a bit difficult for the sergeant in charge of the drill that day. The man had stammered a bit, attempting to find a way to politely tell him to get out of the way and not ruin what the others were doing.

  A thing that Anders had internally bristled at, since he was there and in as much danger as anyone else. Instead of cry over the fact that he wasn’t wanted, regardless of how sensible the reason for it was, he simply settled himself on a smooth patch of ground that wasn’t too damp and moved into the halls of his mind. Once there he went over the symbols and shapes that formed the individual sounds of language he needed to send messages.

  Having researched what had been done in times long forgotten, reading from the tomes in his mind, he came to several points that he would have missed otherwise. The first one was simply that he needed a new command set just to talk to someone. One that would allow them to hear the words with their ears, instead of just feel a vague compulsion to think something. Then there were two more sets needed to establish the start of the message and the end.

  One more would allow it to repeat, so that the listener would have time to pick up on what was being spoken to them in their ear. In times long gone, the trick would have been about having a trinket or device that allowed a sympathetic resonance with the target. Most commonly some of their hair, or blood was used. Not having that, Anders had tried to work out how to name a person intently enough to reach out to them.

  That was different than anything, in any of the books he’d read. Something new that actually seemed to work, as long as he could detail who, or what, he wanted to influence as exactly as possible. It wasn’t enough by even a tiny fraction to just have a name. It would only work on things that he knew well and defined very carefully, for instance.

  Standing, he closed his eyes and muttered the spell he wanted in a low voice.

  All this one would do was pull fish from the water, over a distance about five times larger than he’d ever managed before. Not one at a time, instead finding any fish that was large enough to count. A thing that would last until he said fen the second time.

  At first, for nearly ten seconds it seemed to not be working at all. Not even a single scaled beast came up out of the water at all. It wasn’t until ten breaths in that he understood what was happening. The things weren’t being launched into the air like he was used to when he used his hand gesture fishing technique. They were, instead, being drawn through the water, pulled toward the spot they were to be landed at. Next to him on the dirt and grass there.

  Also, once that started happening, it was immediately clear to him that a small mistake had been made in his own mind. He’d tried to reach into the water over a large area, taking all the appropriate animals. Only he hadn’t understood exactly how many fish would be in a section of water that size. Instead of fifty fish, all of middling to small size, there were only large versions. Things that generally lived in the depths.

  Also, there were at least a hundred of those, meaning that he was in for some trips to the cooking area that day.

  His canvas sack that normally was good for ten to fifteen smaller fish, could only hold four of the things next to him. Half of them managed to wriggle and flop so hard that they escaped, back into the water. Anders didn’t even try to stop them. He could capture them again, now that he had the right idea as to how to do it.

  Certainly, it was very specific, requiring him to learn, to create, a new term that only meant one thing on a level that was highly exacting. It had worked for him, which meant he needed to try his next trick.

  After he recovered the fish there, since they still needed to have food coming in on a regular basis. That took him half an hour and more trips than he could be bothered to count. There was little else to do, since it was early in the day and he’d been ordered to stay in the camp. Not everyone did that, since there were guards that got to go out and a contingent of men had been set to see about buying or trading for more grain and flour. That meant going about twenty miles away, since they’d gotten everything that the closer villages had been willing to trade with them.

  That left time for him to practice with his bow, as well as work on magic. That was pretty much all he had to do in the camp, since most of his time had been spent on gathering resources for them, until he was ordered not to leave. By Captain Horner. The man hadn’t even minced words, just telling him that small boys shouldn’t be out in the forest when there was a chance, even a small one, of meeting with the enemy.

  That would have rankled more, if he hadn’t said the same basic thing to Master Tolan at the same time. True that had been that old men shouldn’t do that same thing but it was just as blunt. The Prince was handled more carefully. After all, the point of him being there at all was to point out to people that those who led Istlan did their share of work and took the same risks they asked others to. The man was still a Prince, which meant that the Captain wasn’t really in command, even if he was, at the same time.

  Being ordered to stay inside the picket line meant that the fresh greens, fruits and nuts from the surrounding area had dwindled in their meals over the last day and a half. No one had mentioned the lack, since most of the men didn’t love the bitters they were served in particular. The fruit went over better, even if most of it was roasted or cooked first, since it wasn’t really ripe as of yet.


  When Anders tried his next trick, calling to what he wanted by a very exacting name, instead of a general term, things took longer. Oh, the greens he wanted were out there and did fly through the air to them. It was simply that he needed several types and had to be much more selective in where he got them from. Otherwise he might strip entire sections of the growing things, leaving the ground bare and suffering. If they were there for several more months, that should be enough time for many things to grow back, if they didn't destroy the area the first time.

  So he took things from different areas. Twice it didn’t work at all, probably meaning that there was simply nothing that matched what he was trying for in the correct zone. He only had words that would work for five different things, including the fish. It also would pay for him to be careful in the amount he got that day, since the greens were best fresh.

  The whole thing was done standing near the cool storage mound, the cooks gaping at him for a time, until they were ordered back to work by their section head. The head cook was a sergeant as well, as it turned out, even if he only had a unit of five men under him. When Anders started to leave, after making certain the things in the frozen section stayed that way and that the melting ice was channeled away in the right direction, which had to be changed every two days or so, to prevent flooding, he was waved at.

  Not by one of the cooks, but rather by Captain Horner.

  “Master Brolly!” The man didn’t sound angry at all, meaning that he’d seen what had been going on, since he was looking directly at where the fresh greens had been stored, under a layer of old hay, instead of clean straw. They just didn't have any of that in the area, so had to make do, trading the grass out occasionally so it wouldn’t rot over their food.

  “Captain! What may I do for you today?”

  The man looked around, then whispered.

  “I need to send a message, back to the King. Is there anything you can do toward that end? We jested about it several days ago. The situation has changed. Master Tolan informed me not an hour ago that the main body of the enemy is on the move. Coming around the lake here, intent on battle. They’ll reach us tonight or early tomorrow. If we don’t last until the reinforcements arrive… Well, getting a message out about what’s going on would be helpful.” The man was smiling, as if calm and relaxed about the whole thing.