Fletcher

by P. S. Power

  “Here at the beginning I give the purpose, to speak to the ear of the subject. In this case Captain Horner…” At each point he tapped the correct symbol. “Then I have the broken down sounds that I want passed. The spacing of them is important. Each word is grouped together and you have to speak them as one, or it will sound strange. At the end I have this section, which is different than what you taught me, Depak Sona. It allows a repetition, based on the numbers here. In this case I’m using five.” That, the numbers, were another new thing that he’d come up with. He only had one through ten so far. If he needed more than that, something new would have to be come up with.

  Next to him, Depak frowned.

  “I understand the basic idea. It’s complex, for a beginner.” He smiled then and shook his head. “Truly, Anders Brolly, it is a sign that you are a master, in some ways. Most never add much at all to the skills of magic. This is a thing that would mark you as one such.”

  Interestingly, when he spoke of that, he didn't tap the whole page, or the language made of syllables. His finger moved directly over the portion allowing for the number of repetitions.

  Anders shook his head a little bit.

  “I still can’t receive information on my own. Master Tolan has the skills for that. I should learn that, if I’m allowed and can manage it. That would allow me to communicate directly over distance. This works for now. At least as long as I stay on your good side, Master Tolan.”

  Smiling, Anders looked at the man, since he’d openly suggested that he steal the man’s place, after a fashion. Learning the arts of wizardly, to add to his personal skills. It was very possible that the man would reject the idea totally. Even more likely was that Anders would lack the needed skill or temperament of that particular discipline.

  Rather than make the man seem troubled, he merely gave a nod. An efficient thing, rather than one that seemed reluctant.

  “I can go over that with you. I should strive to learn this spell of yours as well, so we can both do this thing. It seems a complete discipline. Very different than my own. I work in trance states and with imagery of the mind. The sound of this seems to be greater than merely muttering a few words. I’d wondered in the past how that would function.”

  Depak nodded, seeming pleased.

  “Yes. You have the needed magical base, so it is only in learning and practicing the basic portion of things that would be needed. There are hundreds of ideas that would be needed just for Master Brolly’s communication technique. A thing that can be done with discipline, which you seem to have already. If I could learn the same, this new technique and your Wizard’s skill, at least in part, I might also be able to use such. It is a daunting adventure at my age. A new skill, even if valuable, is an investment in time and effort. One that might end in failure.”

  Master Tolan smiled then, looking at the man for the first time with something close to pleasure.

  “I can feel that portion for myself. Should we do this portion right now, then work on that other thing? I must admit that I’ve wondered if I was failing in my job as Court Wizard, lacking the skill to affect the world around me as I do. Even learning a bit of that art would sooth my soul that way.” The words were humble and not at all certain that he could manage the task.

  Anders nodded.

  “Let me…” The words of the spell on the paper in front of him weren’t simply muttered, they were lived and focused upon as he read the symbols. Each one an essential idea that he knew well. Lacking that would mean the magic didn’t work, after all.

  When it was finished, he simply waited. There was no way for him to test as to it having worked, on a personal level. Master Tolan bowed his head, slowed his breathing and a good while later, spoke.

  “The message has reached the Captain and been understood. He has written it down and is seeking a reply, assuming that I will be doing my invasive magics upon him.” Then they waited for another time that seemed very long. Half an hour nearly.

  That hadn’t been too uncommon working with Princess Aisla, so Anders simply sat, poised with a writing pen and paper, in case useful information was sent back. In this case it was, since the general, Coelder, had a report ready to be sent back to King Matheus. He was eager enough to do that quickly, if possible.

  That was part of the message that Anders wrote down, since Tolan couldn’t do it in a trance state. Depak Sona didn’t interrupt or complain about them taking the time to do that, rather than work on something more dynamic or interesting to the man.

  As soon as the information was finished being passed, a thing that took four full pages to be passed, Master Tolan stood up. His face was still a bit blank and his breathing slow, even as he led them away, the door being pulled shut as he left, by Anders. There was no lock on it. No one would enter without permission, naturally. Not in the castle.

  They had guards all over the place, including ones who simply walked around, seeking to guard them all, constantly.

  As they moved, all in one group, Master Tolan came back to himself, explaining to both men what they were doing.

  “King Matheus should receive this as soon as possible. None of us is ready for presentation at court. A thing we will simply have to eat, I fear.”

  Anders grimaced, then noticed Depak altering his clothing. Moving from a nice blue tunic and trousers to a robe of flowing material that had a high luster. A pattern was driven into the weave, with a muttered sentence that Anders still couldn’t understand. It was clearly a description of what was wanted and what was to be influenced.

  For his part, Anders used a comparatively simple spell to clean himself and then the others, which went unremarked on, the waste from it being dumped out the closest window. That was open, thankfully, being full summer in Istlan. Then, carefully, he turned his own clothing into a rather bright thing, with stripes that were in multiple colors. That didn’t look good, he didn’t think, even if it seemed rich enough and grand.

  Master Tolan, who was in gray, was transformed by Depak Sona into the same outfit, only in glossy material, with gold edges that shone like metal. The old man nodded at him, getting who had done the work, from the muttering.

  “I thank you, Master Depak. Master Brolly. Now, let us see if we will be allowed into the room?”

  The whole court was standing around, except for the King and his Queen, who were both sitting. The rest were gathered around, wearing nice clothing. A few were in colors that let Anders feeling better about his choice. Baron Kilroy was in an outfit that was similar, if with more metallic colors and a deep red that reminded one of blood.

  Glancing at him had the man look over, frown, then nod a bit, for some reason. What that might mean, if anything at all, was beyond anything that Anders was able to understand at the moment. That wasn’t the only glance in his direction that seemed a bit out of place.

  Hopefully it didn't mean that the man was going to try to assassinate him under the guise of a duel. A thing which really wouldn’t happen, of course. The man would simply accuse him of a crime and have him hanged for it. The lack of a lock on his own chamber door suddenly seemed an oversight. Anyone could grab some of the silver from the King’s table and place it in his room. That or a piece of jewelry. Once that happened nothing he said or did would be enough to prove him innocent.

  There was a line in front of them, mainly with people asking the King for things. Lands, titles and coin were all popular requests. Master Tolan led them up, bowing, with Depak Sona using his own style of bowing, instead of second courtly.

  The King smiled at them all, at least.

  “Rise, please, gentles. What may I provide to you this day?” The words were a bit strange sounding, put the way they were.

  The Wizard held up the papers, not going into how they were provided at all.

  “We’ve some information, if that serves, Your Majesty. No requests of you at this time, at all.”

  When the papers were passed over, the King read them all, quickly. In silence as well. When he
looked up, the man smiled, seeming rather pleased.

  “Very good. Thank you all. Master Tolan and Master Brolly, you intend to do this on a regular basis, do you not? It would serve to have an audience with you both, after the high meal. All of you will attend, if that serves, Depak Sona? You other two don’t get a choice. Attend and be prepared to speak to myself, after.”

  Then, clearly, they were supposed to leave the room.

  This time Anders didn’t hesitate to go, so didn't need to be waved away by the King.

  Chapter thirty

  The high meal, with the King at the head of the table, was grand, Anders supposed. The food was better than anything he, or Farad, had ever eaten, for instance. The wall hangings on the walls were rich in gold thread, with silver being an accent. Things which were most likely real. Wire had been used to create the needed luster for the bold artistic statements. Things that were symbolic, showing a lot of wolf’s head imagery, being what Istlan used to symbolize the royal dynasty.

  The tables and chairs were better than any other that he’d seen in his life. Everything in the room was at the same level. Even the people there were dressed, if possible, in nicer things than they had been at court earlier. Everyone, including him, had changed for the meal. This time he even did his hair again, brushing it carefully.

  The interesting portion was that, while the Ambassador and Court Mage were close to the King and royal family, Anders was down the table a good long way, settled next to his own Mother. It was oddly comforting. After all, he’d half feared that the plan had been to grill him for technique over the stew they were eating that night.

  Which they weren’t. Rather than a bowl filled with vegetables, everything was served on a long trencher of bread. Instead of stew there was four types of meat. Fowl, fish, venison and boar, from the look of it. Things he’d had before, if very well made. On the side of the light-colored bread was a carefully arranged portion of bitters and herbs, a light sauce on it. That was tangy and held a good bit of pepper to spice it up, when he took a bite.

  After a moment, everyone else making conversation, causing the room to be loud, compared to what he was used to, Lyse touched his left arm.

  “There was some talk of you, earlier. Some new magic you invented?” It was clear that she was making small talk, while also attempting to promote her child with those around them.

  He differed a portion, not wanting to seem driven by self-worth out of proportion with his station in life. A thing that all who knew him had to hold as being very low in level. True, with a few small successes in recent days. Which allowed him to duck his head a bit, without having to call the woman a liar or suggest that might be the case.

  “Some work in communications that might be relevant to the coming war. I, perhaps, should not speak too much of it in the open.” Farad knew that from old stories. Tales of wars were one of the most common sorts of histories.

  To some that was what the past was. Wars, with blank spaces tucked between them. From a position in a tower, or in his case, a cave, it could be difficult to tell that time stretching back was mainly the story of people living peaceful lives, without constant strife and hardship.

  Lyse nodded at him, patting his arm again, while several of the others around him made small noises, then promptly ignored him for the rest of the meal. Truthfully, he had to consider that he’d done or said the wrong thing to their minds. Not to his own, however. Openly giving away secrets that were possibly useful to the war made no sense. Not even if it meant being a social outcast at the high table of the King. Chances were he wouldn’t be invited back often, regardless of his skills that way.

  When the meal ended, the King announcing that it was by standing, almost everyone filtered away, finding the far doors, as if getting out of the room was the primary task of the evening. For his part, even as his Mother tugged on his shoulder, leading him out with her, Prince Robarts waved and moved to intercept them.

  “Master Brolly! Father is looking forward to speaking with you and Master Tolan. This way. I’m certain it won’t be too long of a meeting, Lyse. No later than mid-night. War matters, or I’d get you into the room with us.” Then, as if that made much sense at all, the man waved for Anders to follow him, as Lyse looked on, her light complexion not hiding that she seemed slightly concerned.

  Which he understood for himself. People of great power did not, in the main, meet with young boys. Not for any good reasons. Even knowing that it would be about his communications spell didn’t leave him feeling too much at ease.

  The room that the Prince guided him to was down the hall, outside the entrance to the main chamber. That required passing most of those who had just left, meaning several of them watched him too closely to be healthy for him. Once inside the large wooden doors, of which there were two that closed in the center, seeming heavy enough to prevent casual entrance, the things were shut behind them, firmly.

  Prince Robarts led him inside, the chamber filled with several people he didn’t know, all sitting at a large table with King Matheus at the front. Instead of being tucked in beside Master Tolan, Anders was placed alongside of Prince Erold.

  The other boy, looking healthy and not too beaten up by the world, like always, pretended to punch him on the shoulder. Thankfully he saw it coming first, so didn’t react at all. Not even tensing up. No more than the slightest bit.

  “There you are, Anders! You came back and then avoided me totally. I’d be hurt, if not for the fact that I’ve been busy constantly. Attending to Princess Sweyn. She isn’t foul or demanding, though it takes more to be a husband than I’d first thought. Spending time with her, mainly, so that we can cement the bonds between us. I suppose it’s like training a horse. You have to take time to care for them daily, so they can learn to trust you.” Several people looked over at the Prince then. No one wincing at the importune words that compared his bride to a large animal. “Though, I must suppose that she’s the one on the lead, training me. It does make one wonder what horses think of the whole thing, doesn’t it?”

  Anders nodded, getting his meaning then.

  “Yes. They probably think of us as tiny foals. Very commanding ones that try to push them around. Given that, it’s a gift that they allow us to ride them.”

  A few of the old people there chuckled at the words, glad that Erold wasn’t saying anything that would start hostilities with his Princess. Even given his careful word choice after the first moments, it would pay for the boy to be careful. One word spoken out of turn could create havoc in their world. A thing they couldn’t really afford at the moment.

  Before he could ask his friend if he had time to go to a weapons practice the next day, there was a soft rustling of papers at the front of the table that had everyone turning silent almost instantly. Doing his part in that, Anders simply looked in that direction, just in time to see the man at the head of the table brush at his well-trimmed beard with the back of his right hand, papers held up to read in his left.

  “Master Tolan and his new assistant, Master Brolly, have worked out a system that allows communications with the battle front in the war. Meaning we have information in our hands at this moment that would normally take four to six days to reach us. Better, we can contact our people on the ground there inside the hour, if need be.” King Matheus glanced at Master Tolan, a small sense of a smile on his lips. “Is that correct?”

  The old Wizard, used to dealing with the King as he was, didn’t seem flustered at all, speaking to the man in person. About half the room looked over at him, paying attention. The others looked down at the table, where they had papers of their own. Some few even took their own notes. Probably about the conversation.

  Tolan let his body bend a bit, bowing as he sat, at least in spirit.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. There is need for some preparation each time and the people we can communicate with are limited at the moment. At the front we have Captain Horner, I believe.” At the end of the words, the Wizard glanced at the far wall,
across from himself.

  Anders, perhaps being easily led, did the same thing, noticing only after it was brought to his attention that there was a buzzing and tingling sense of magic about seven paces from himself. The room was large enough for that, being fifteen paces across, at least.

  Sensing the magic didn’t mean he could tell where it was coming from exactly. That it might be a normal thing there, one that a boy like himself simply wouldn’t know about, was very possible. In fact, it was almost the most likely case. The only thing telling him it might not be was that Master Tolan worked with the King all the time and he was staring himself, finally pointing at a long cloth hanging, done in deep red, with both a sense of magic and a small mouse being visible underneath it. Barely.

  “Magic!” It was identified well enough, though the elder didn’t move at all, except to shake slightly. Not in fear, just with age.

  Anders recalled that part of things well enough from his own life. The last one.

  Rather than run around the table, like a sensible person that didn't want to be thought of as improper, Anders used his own seat as a step, clambered over the heavy table at a run, and leapt off the other side. As that happened, a being of immense size appeared in the air. One that seemed as real as any in the room with him.

  It was a person, or possibly a beast, wearing leather clothing, and standing half again his own size. Some men were as large. None were as broad with muscle. The thing was nearly as wide as Anders himself was tall. When the boy stumbled to a stop, he was directly in front of the creature, about three paces away.

  For a moment, a long one, he simply stood there. Frozen into inaction, overawed by the horned man, his mouth showing fang like tusks and his skin darker than any man of Istlan by far, staring. Not at the small boy that had moved in front of it either. No, the focus was all for the King.

  A strange scent filled the air. Like metal being worked on a forge. Flames of blue and white started to rise around the left hand of the creature. Behind him there were gasps, the sound of chairs being moved back and in more than one case something that was probably the sound of multiple blades being drawn.