by Mark August
“The privileges of the City Council also included the authority to suspend powers, remove members, or, in unusual circumstances, replace leadership.”
Bang. The trap sprang shut around him. Attius sat stoically. He looked at each member to sense the weakest resolve and those not committed to this course of action. He found none, and he knew the board rehearsed this maneuver.
“I understand the powers of the City Council, Lady Silvia. But please continue.”
“I propose that we vote on the ruling status of the Duke of Caesea. I also move to conduct the vote immediately.”
The board, except Attius, responded, “Second.”
“Then we should continue with the vote to determine our confidence in the Duke's leadership of the City Council. A vote of no indicates we must select new leadership.”
A hundred years. The city had not removed a Duke in one hundred years. Pressure throbbed at his temples, and heat flushed his face. His fingers ached from the clutch of his fists. He longed for a weapon in his hand. Voices brought him back to the moment.
“Master of ceremonies, please take your station. Roll call for the record. This vote is to remove the sitting Duke of Caesea.”
“Yes, my lady.” The man advanced with the official scrolls of his station, and he shared an apologetic glance with the current Duke. But he continued his role.
The vote passed with no surprises. Each house endorsed the change of leadership as Attius sat in stunned silence.
More decisive action was possible. They could change the status of his family and remove his station in its entirety. They demanded change, but they weren’t ready to take the next step, which could lead to civil war. And that meant they still wanted more from him.
“Lord Attius, the board removed your position as Duke of Caesea. Do you willingly release the title and responsibilities of this position?” The master of ceremony had a pleading look on his face.
Attius glared at them. With a sneer on his lips, he addressed the group, “I accept the decision made by the City Council. Master of ceremonies, you may record my response.”
Postures relaxed, and smiles returned to several faces. He noted those showing the most satisfaction from his removal, and he’d make them pay for this action. Even if it took more time than he originally planned.
“Is the City Council finished for the day?”
“No, my lord. We still have two matters to discuss.” Silvia couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
“I see.”
“First, we must select a new Duke. According to the city's laws, the term of office will be until the current term expires. The Council will hold an election on time to select a new leader from the houses.”
The room was silent. No one was eager to make a move.
“I nominate you, my lady.” Enna of House Junius spoke the words. Attius wanted to be surprised, but he should have suspected this move.
Lord Gordio responded, “Second.”
“Master of ceremonies, please annotate the nomination and selection of the new Duke of Caesea to fill the current vacancy.” Attius had no choice now. Things were beyond his plans.
They planned and coordinated this assault on his family. An assassination attempt in their midst. Magic slipping out of their control. He lost. Threats everywhere. Inexcusable.
The vote was six to one.
The new Duchess of Caesea rose from her seat and ran her hands along the green silk dress to remove imaginary wrinkles. She padded to the center of the table and stood by Attius’ current chair. He ignored her.
“I’m sorry, my Lord, but the seat is for the Duchess of Caesea.” Her voice grated on his ears. A pistol would blow out that grin.
Attius ground his teeth together and pulled his cloak around his body as he stood. He avoided eye contact, and his footsteps pounded on the marble floor like gunshots in the awkward silence. The former Duke moved to the end of the table.
The new Duchess of Caesea addressed the City Council. “The first action I must bring to the Council’s attention is the grave threat to the city. We must decide what to do about the prisoner in control of one of our members. The wizard should be executed, and the Council is frustrated with the delay. This is an obvious threat to the city and the people we represent.”
This is what the changes were all about? One man held in prison, watched and monitored since the day we captured him? Fear runs deep in the balance of power. He still had more moves to play, and he considered changing his strategy.
“If I may address this matter.” Attius didn’t wait for a second rule of order. “The attack happened in my family’s carpentry district. My guard captured the individual, and my family continues to restrain him. I move to keep him in my prison until the City Council determines the proper course of action.”
No one second the motion. He missed the target. They planned for this and discussed this obvious ploy.
“I’m afraid the City Council will not allow you to keep this dangerous prisoner in exclusive control of your family prison.” The new Duchess settled into her role perfectly.
“I understand this concern, my fellow members of the City Council. But we need to understand the threat before we make a mistake.”
“Given the failure of your intelligence service and even the lack of commitment to the city investigative forces, your motives are suspect.”
That was enough from her.
“Suspect.” His arms coiled with the pressure of a ready crossbow. The arms of his chair groaned under the pressure of his fist. Attius needed his mental restraint to hold him down in his seat. The closest members of the council leaned away from the threat.
“My Lord, be careful with your next action. We have other options,” Lord Gordio said.
Gordio will be the first to pay. The rule monger would see what the House of Atros could do. Attius relaxed. Regain political control. That required planning and patience.
“May I have a moment to think about how to approach my next proposal?”
“Yes, let us take a thirty-minute recess.” The tap of the gavel ended the confrontation.
Attius sprung from his seat and walked away from the City Council chambers. His gaze did not shift left or right, and he avoided eye contact with servants, guards, and members of the Council. His mind hunted for a way to salvage the situation. The thirty minutes elapsed in only a moment.
Servants scoured the building and rounded up the members of the Council at the appointed time. Attius was the last to enter the chambers. He strode back into the room with upright posture and methodical steps. Attius returned as a leader and commander. Some would fear as a conqueror. He took his place at the end of the table.
“The city waits to hear your proposal, Lord Atros.”
“I fear for the safety of the city and my house, and I find the course of action exceedingly difficult.”
“The Council has no designs on your house or the responsibilities of your family.”
“Thank you for the words of assurance. But I’m more concerned about this prisoner. I respect the city’s decision and propose a middle ground. I respectfully request a sorceratti from two families accompany my own sorceratti to interview the prisoner.”
Attius tried not to smile as the Council sat in stunned silence. Elements of control returned to his political grasp. Members whispered to one another. He did not need to engage any of them as they worked through his recent idea's pros and cons. He offered a reasonable way out of a confrontation no one wanted.
“Your proposal has great merit. This Council regrets you did not make this offer earlier. The outcome of this meeting may have been different.” The fake concern on Silvia’s face was too much. He’d let her dig her own grave with the Council members.
Her rule would be short.
“Be that as it may. I am still making this offer to the Council and the members of the ruling houses.”
“The City Council tentatively agrees to your proposal, but we must add one considera
tion to this offer.”
When did they have time to consider a counterproposal and create a condition? A bead of cold sweat dripped down his back. “I’ll be happy to accept a condition.”
“In addition to interviewing the wizard, the sorceratti will also interview the sister.”
Attius regretted the rage that slipped into his composure. The City Council played him, and they knew far more than they should about his family’s information. The spies of the houses weren’t focused on threats. They must all be focused on him. How else could the Council already know about a prisoner his investigators just found?
“Members of the Council, I do not find myself in a position to deny this reasonable request. I think a review of them both will reveal my honest intentions.”
“Then you accept the condition and will allow us to interview them both.”
Attius turned toward the master of ceremonies and intoned, “Please let the record show that the Lord of House Atros formally accepts the proposal from the City Council.”
The new Duchess couldn’t contain her excitement with her victories today. She’d learn more about the job soon enough.
“Very well, Lord Atros. We will begin our discussion with your prisoners tomorrow.”
Forty-Seven
Kincaid - Magic of the World
“We need to get you out of here, Kincaid.”
Kincaid wanted to be excited, but his mind drifted. Hours of relentless study blurred his thoughts. Magi Cormac talked through Kincaid’s exhaustion, and they practiced theory with minimum use of power. Kincaid could touch the arcane plane, and he could control its use.
Against another wizard, he couldn’t predict the outcome.
“You just decided we need to escape?”
“No. You’re unique, Kincaid. I’ve never taught anyone with your vision of magic. You can’t fall into the hands of the Caesean families.”
“Funny. Looks like I’m already in the hands of a family.
If the visions were important, Kincaid wanted his instruction to focus there. The young carpenter had to understand what made him different. Time was his most valuable resource, and the return of the sorceratti was overdue.
“Maybe I was a vivid daydreamer. With the confusion and the danger, my mind was probably playing tricks on me.” He’d tried that excuse before, and Cormac discounted this explanation. But it was the only one he had left.
“No, Kincaid. The arcane world holds many secrets, and we have so much to learn as we push the edge of our power. Wizards are a new force in history.”
Kincaid appreciated the change in his tone, and they hadn’t discussed this part of magic in his immersion. “I don’t understand. What makes them new?”
“Magic came to the city less than forty years ago, just two generations within the houses. The current rulers remember the time when the Council had to make their laws. The Empire of a Thousand Spears trained wizards a decade longer than the Northern States, but I haven’t spent time in the Empire to learn more. I’ve led schools in the Northern States, and I’ve taught the children of this city for decades. The power of magic is new.”
“Magi Cormac, how old are you?”
“Excellent, Kincaid. Never stop figuring out why things happen. Always ask questions.” Magi Cormac glowed with pride, and his teeth flashed with a genuine smile. “I was one of the first to explore magic. I was also one of the first to realize its curse. Friends destroyed their souls and lost their lives before we understood magic was not a gift but a burden.”
“Then you came to teach here.”
The smile faded to a frown, and the proud words settled into silence. The magi shook his head as he reflected on the choices of the past.
“No, Kincaid, not exactly. I came here to control the experimentation of magic.”
The carpenter wondered when the magi would stop surprising him with these revelations. When he opened up about his decisions and his role in city events, Kincaid was stunned by his words. This person shaped the city more than any family, and he controlled Kincaid’s fate.
He waited for the magi to continue.
“I’ve been teaching the houses for thirty years. None suspect my motives. The control of power and the intricate plans keep their attention away from my motives. They rarely look within to see where the danger might lie. Perhaps that’s the magic of the balance of power. The houses need the consistency to create plans that ultimately keep the balance between them. Fortunately, they never considered I didn’t want to leave the islands and the opportunity I already control.”
Kincaid marveled at the man in chains. If the Duke knew the magi could outmaneuver him at any moment, the firing squad wouldn’t aim at the carpenter.
“But I’m different from the others in the houses?”
“Yes. I’ve never worked with a wizard with visions of the future. The charlatans who work in the streets prey on the hopeful and desperate. But you have something different. I have no idea how accurate your visions are, but you must live and find out. You have a burden that no wizard before you had to carry.”
Kincaid placed both hands on the bars and leaned forward into the discussion. The pain in his shoulder was healed and forgotten. Time in prison with the food Cormac provided nursed his body back to health. The blackwood cane left behind in the last confrontation laid across his lap, and he used it as a remembrance of his own past. “Do you think I have the strength to carry this burden?”
Cormac met his gaze at the same level of intensity. Moments slipped away as thoughts came and went. Kincaid faced the heat of the scrutiny without flinching or looking away. “I don’t know if you can carry this alone, but I think you will be tested soon. You must be strong, and you must survive.”
Kincaid felt the weight of those words settle on his soul. For all his revelations, the magi still held secrets. Revealing the plans and even the concerns would give Kincaid a head start creating a plan to escape and find his sister. He needed to leave Caesea. The visions haunted him.
“Magi Cormac, I need you to teach me. I can’t do this on my own.”
“Your experience and wisdom grow with each day. You’ll need all of it in the life you’ve just chosen.”
“You make me feel like I have to take on the world. The burden is now mine.”
“I’m afraid it is.”
Forty-Eight
Kincaid - Tables Turned
The prison door burst open, and the Atros guards jumped back. A parade of colors from different houses confronted Kincaid. A dozen guards stormed into the prison and took up positions in the cell block facing Kincaid. The soldiers carried a mix of long spears and muskets. Escape wasn’t coming today. Kincaid grabbed the cane and got to his feet.
A woman with officer’s rank on her right shoulder examined the soldiers' positioning and waved off the Atros guards. Her eyes fell on the pair of prisoners, and her face turned to a frown. She barked over her shoulder. “The area is secure.”
A noble entourage entered the room. It was the youth of the group that surprised Kincaid the most. The sorceratti of House Atros led two peers into the cell block, and Kincaid suspected they were wizards. Kincaid shot a glance toward Cormac, and he shook his head slightly.
Vedette caught the motion and raised an eyebrow toward Cormac. The magi didn’t budge from his seated position. She set her jaw and turned back to Kincaid.
Despite the frosty air, sweat dampened his pits and dripped down his back.
The sorceratti took positions around his cell, and another person shuffled through the main prison door. Another pair of guards pushed and prodded the last entrance into the block. The person was bent over and shackled.
No. Please, no.
“Kincaid, journeyman of Master Barnet, you are accused of using arcane forces in the city of Caesea.” The captain of the guards spoke with authority. Her voice held no weakness, and the formality was unnerving.
“I understand these charges. But I don’t understand why you’re here.” Ki
ncaid’s eyes darted from person to person and hunted for a sign of intent. He rested the palms of his hands on the blackwood staff. The cool wood was a reminder of his past and anchored his emotions in the moment.
“The City Council claims you as a prisoner, and the City Council will determine your fate.”
That made sense for the different uniforms in the prisoner block, and they already gave him his sentence. The rest didn’t make sense. “So, you’re here to move me somewhere else?”
“That depends on your level of cooperation, prisoner.” One of the nobles accompanying the Atros sorceratti made this statement. He didn’t look as confident as the sorceratti from Atros.
Kincaid stepped away from the bars and put his back against the stone wall. Kincaid hoped the angle through the bars would make musketry difficult, and even the long spears would have a tough time landing a lethal blow. Arcane power wouldn’t care. Fifteen to one wasn’t good odds no matter how he planned.
“Please begin.” Kincaid pretended to be confident in his position.
The woman sorceratti pulled Vedette to the side and knocked her off balance. The guards never took their eyes off the prisoner. The new sorceratti took over and sneered at Kincaid.
“Are you a wizard?”
“I’m a journeyman carpenter employed by Master Barnet. I work under the Carpentry Guild, and I’m testing for master. Until House Atros accused me, I didn’t have knowledge of arcane powers.”
Just enough truth in that statement. Kincaid sensed the flow of magic from the three young royalty. They were probing him, waiting to pounce. The shackled prisoner with a wool sack over their head stood slumped over and silent. Kincaid couldn’t focus on her.
“I will rephrase the question then. Can you use magic?” Cormac looked away from the young man. Kincaid’s mind raced to fill the void with half-truths, and the sorceratti stared at him. No way out of this one.
“Yes, when I was fighting for my life, I discovered I can use magic.”