Luther, Magi: Blood of Lynken II

by Geoffrey C Porter

  Juxta raised his eyebrows. "Three weeks? I can pick the boy from the losers?"

  "Among the boys who are willing."

  "You'll pay the apprenticeship? I have to ask."

  William frowned. "You're a rich lord."

  "Whose fiefdom pays you ten percent of every harvest, every barrel of cider we brew."

  "According to the One True God, it should be twenty percent to the high lord, ten percent to the church. You can afford to train a new apprentice for me."

  Juxta grabbed him by the shoulder. "Yes, of course, the guild expects me to ask the fee. I forget how many coins we have. Lisa says we should count them, but it's a bore."

  William leaned into Juxta's ear and whispered, "Teresa counts ours but don't tell her I told you."

  Juxta turned to leave. William called out, "I want more Cuts-metal blades. I want one for every lieutenant in the Rangers."

  "If I can find a decent smith in Weslan, I'll forge five for you."

  "Thank you."

  Juxta left and returned to his house. He knocked on Luther's door. "Three weeks."

  Luther poked his head out of the doorway. "Ranger trials?"

  "Yes, I'll be taking on a new apprentice."

  A wagon train from Juxta's fiefdom came through and dropped off three barrels of hard cider. It had been distilled three times and was more stiff than hard. Luther shared it with Jason and Prince William, plus a few younger brothers and girls from both families. Jason's younger brother was fourteen and on leave from Raleg. Jen was just about grown up and could out-drink any of the so-called men.

  The Ranger trials were uneventful. Boys competed. Some won, some lost.

  At the end of it, the king raised his voice loud. "I want every man who lost today to step forward into a line. Quickly now."

  The boys lined up a row.

  William continued, "First of all if you're chosen, you must swear an oath to me and my line. Which you'd swear if you were a Ranger anyhow."

  Boys nodded and smiled.

  Juxta moved forward to stand next to William.

  "Second of all," William said. "Juxta will choose one of you who will become his new apprentice."

  "It's better to do them separately, but it's a simple process," Juxta said. Then he began to cast a wave of Truesight over all of the boys. One boy glowed brighter than the rest. Juxta approached him. "What's your name?"

  The boy pointed at his chest. He was no more than twelve. "Victor." He had brown hair in need of a trim and steel-gray eyes.

  Juxta was maybe thirty feet from him, but far enough. Juxta summoned a bit of power and aimed a tiny ball of green fire at Victor. The fire was smaller than the boy, and Juxta wondered if he was perhaps losing his touch. Victor didn't dodge. He jumped straight up in the air and spread his legs out wide. The green fire came within inches of shaving his nuts.

  "What was that?" Victor yelled.

  "Your test," William said. "Now the oath."

  The boy kneeled on one knee and put his right hand over his heart. "I swear on my honor and my life to serve the kings of Lynken until the day I die or am released."

  "Say goodbye to your family," William said. "Go with Juxta."

  The boy ran off. He returned with a rucksack, sword, and bow with quiver. Luther smiled at him. "I'm Luther."

  "Victor."

  Mom waved at the new boy. "I'm Lisa."

  "We leave at dawn for Weslan," Juxta said.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Victor slept in the guest chambers on the first floor below Luther. The snoring kept Luther from getting any quality sleep. Luther and Victor hauled books to the wagon. Juxta gave their chickens to a neighbor, and on the way out of the city, they dropped their cow off at the temple of the One True God.

  Luther and Victor hunted in the mornings. They did not want for meat. Victor could not read or write, so Juxta bade him copy the alphabet on parchment. Around the campfire in the evening, Victor would draw letters in the dirt and learn their sounds. By the time they reached Weslan, he had the symbols and noise for each memorized.

  Juxta knocked on Kirl's door. Josah, the young apprentice from south of the Southern Badlands, answered the door. He shouted, "Kirl!"

  Kirl appeared a moment later. "Juxta!"

  "My son has run out of books," Juxta said, "and he seems to think your library will satiate his thirst."

  "What he needs is a woman!"

  "Yes, he seems to be a late bloomer."

  "You know I'm standing right here?" Luther asked.

  "If you had a wife and a child on the way," Mom said, "you would no longer be Juxta's charge."

  "I would be free of his constant nagging and commands?"

  "Yes."

  Juxta rolled his eyes. "I rarely nag that much: 'study the symbols again, once is not enough' is not really nagging."

  "You're a nag for sure," Luther said.

  "If you forget which symbol is which, you'll ending up giving your strength to a Necro-demi-god instead of draining it."

  "Pish-posh."

  Juxta turned and grabbed Kirl's arm. "Our intent is to buy a house. Something on the outskirts of the city, but near the library."

  "I know of three houses that are vacant," Kirl said.

  "Can you show us?"

  "Josah? Study something."

  "Yes, Master," Josah said.

  Kirl stepped out of the house and led them to the western edge of the city. Kirl said, "Three bedrooms on the second floor. A massive attic you can sleep in or store alcohol."

  "We definitely need a full attic for booze," Mom said.

  "Four rooms on the first floor other than the main entrance and kitchen. The entrance is big enough to fit a table for ten. The other rooms can serve as bedrooms or studies."

  "Barn? Chicken coop? Smokehouse?"

  "And I know the outhouse pit was dug this year. It sits on nearly two acres of land."

  "Sounds perfect," Juxta said.

  Kirl laughed. "Because you haven't heard the price."

  "I brought gold."

  "Weslan will lease it to you if you want."

  They approached the structure. Windows with glass panes lined the exterior wall, except the attic. It had a simple hatch that was closed. Three brick chimneys climbed out of the roof.

  Juxta rubbed at his ear. "That attic will be way too hot to store alcohol."

  "You were thinking about it, though," Mom said.

  The inside of the house was clean. Each room had a door separating it from the next. The main fireplace filled in one corner of the entranceway. An iron stove nearly six feet wide sat in one corner of the kitchen.

  "Oh, this is the one," Mom said. She pointed at Kirl. "Name your price!"

  "You haven't even seen the other houses," Kirl said.

  "I don't care. This stove is nearly three times the size as ours in Lynken."

  Kirl bowed. "There's only one fireplace for the entire upstairs. A house this size should have a fireplace in every room."

  "We can get those iron circlet things," Juxta said. "Heat them with mage fire then put them in each room."

  "Those are very tiring to heat. Fire is better."

  "I have two apprentices that need practice."

  Kirl said, "The price is steep."

  Juxta patted a coin purse on his hip. "For all we know, the deed is a copper piece a month, and we'll own the place in the turn of twenty seasons."

  "Lease it on a yearly lease, for five silvers a month. A deed is six gold a year, for 20 years."

  "What is it to buy it outright?"

  "One hundred gold and it's yours."

  Mom said, "Maybe we should look at the other options."

  "The other houses are bigger and more expensive," Kirl said. "The next house is 125 gold to buy, and it has eight fireplaces."

  "Then it'll just be drafty if you're not burning eight fires."

  Juxta seemed to be counting. "I'll sign a deed. I didn't bring a 100 gold with me, and once Luther is done in your librar
y, the house may sit idle."

  Kirl said, "Splendid."

  Mom asked, "Can we move in?"

  "Stay at my house, until you can buy furniture."

  "Yes, of course, thank you."

  "I need blades, too," Juxta said. "Finely crafted blades that are worth sinking my magic into."

  "Have you ever crafted an edge of speed?" Kirl asked.

  "No."

  "The casting takes almost two full days, and it takes a master and apprentice working together."

  "You don't think Cuts-metal is a strong enough enchantment?" Juxta asked.

  "It was just an idea."

  Juxta and Kirl went to the Record's Hall and did whatever people did when they sign a deed. Mom killed a pig and roasted it. They feasted.

  The next day buying furniture wasn't a big problem. Luther went to the library and stared in awe at all the books. His first objective was to read up on the Southern Badlands. He found a book by Ralph Storm and dove right in.

  He slept in his new home, in a room on the ground floor, for the first time.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The Ralph Storm book was thousands of years old, yet it was still sturdy and solid. It detailed the history of a proud people who were driven into the Southern Badlands by forces and tribes farther north of them. They learned to adapt: how to set up irrigation and wells to grow meager foods. The underground waterways seemed to shift and change. A growing season rarely lasted past three months, and the tribes focused on short-lived plant species.

  Luther read all day and decided it was time for a break. He went outside. Juxta was lecturing Victor on the art of summoning magic. It was a talk Luther had heard before. Victor seemed to be concentrating. His brow was furrowed, and his armpits were sweating.

  He pushed himself too hard. It had been less than two weeks. Still, who was Luther to judge? Luther cleared his throat. "We don't have any fruit trees."

  "I brought seeds for the teardrop-shaped fruit," Juxta said.

  "Are we ever going to name the fruit? Or the tree it comes from?"

  "I hadn't thought of that. I'm sure people will call them something, and it'll stick."

  Juxta turned to Victor. "Keep practicing."

  "What do you think I was doing?" Victor asked.

  "I'll get the seeds."

  Juxta went into the barn. He held out a bag to Luther. "You do it. Just get them going to about three feet tall."

  Luther took the seeds and planted each one an inch or so in the dirt. He did twenty in total about five feet apart. Too close together, but some of them might not make it.

  Luther said the chants and breathed life into the trees until they were three feet tall.

  Victor howled out in anguish. "Arrggghhh! There's got to be a better way!"

  "There really isn't," Luther said.

  Juxta held up two fingers. "Keep going the hard way for at least two more weeks, then I know of another method we can try."

  The next day, Luther reached the end of the Ralph Storm book and discovered that the index contained the ancient symbols and sounds for their secret language. Luther studied the symbols and words for two weeks.

  The sun was approaching the horizon as it set. Victor, Luther, and Juxta were in the backyard. A target was set up about twenty feet from them. Juxta explained the technique. "I'll pour power into you, Victor, and you'll cast lightning on the target."

  A faint light twinkled in Juxta's amethyst stone. He touched Victor on the shoulder. "There, that should be enough."

  Victor waved his hand at the target, and nothing happened.

  "All that hand-waving is unnecessary," Juxta said. "Apply the symbol and the word."

  Victor shouted, "Shoc!"

  There was no lightning. Nothing.

  "Did you feel the power?" Juxta asked.

  Victor sighed. "I did, but it's gone now."

  "Peculiar. I must query Kirl."

  "Do I keep practicing?"

  "Yes. I think that's best." Juxta frowned. "Possibly you'll come into your powers in a few days."

  Juxta pointed at Luther and glared. "You can't just read all day every day. You need to be dueling, drinking whiskey, and chasing women."

  He wanted to read.

  "You'll duel tomorrow," Juxta said.

  The next day, Juxta went to the High Council. "I have a problem."

  "Yes," Kirl said. "Your guild dues have been unpaid for years."

  "Guild dues?"

  "It's a silver piece per year."

  Juxta rubbed at his chin. "What do these guild dues pay for?"

  "Guild business. Once a year, we pay for the apprenticeship of some orphans or farmers, who have no way to better themselves."

  "Will a gold piece cover me to date?" Juxta asked.

  "That's fine," Kirl said. "What's your problem?"

  "My apprentice, Victor, has been studying for four weeks and cannot summon magic."

  An older member of the Council spoke up, "That's not that uncommon. Sometimes it takes six months or a year to learn it. Some of the most powerful magic users in history took many moons to cast their first spell."

  "I'd also like to get Luther into some duels."

  Kirl snarled like a rabid dog. "Then you have two problems, and you said you had one. You lied to us."

  Juxta raised his eyebrow.

  Kirl took a long drink from a mug of something. "We can get Luther into the rotation. Right now six apprentices are dueling."

  "It may be better, all things considered," Juxta said, "if Luther takes on an apprentice and a master. I doubt any of your apprentices can stand alone against him."

  The Council murmured for a bit.

  Kirl raised his voice. "You want to see him lose?"

  Juxta shrugged. "It may be better for him to taste a little defeat."

  "Agreed. Come to the proving grounds just after sunset."

  Luther again wasted the day in the library. In truth, he was fascinated by the Southern Badlands for some reason and wanted to find another Ralph Storm book.

  * * *

  Far into the reaches of the Southern Badlands, in a room offset from the king's throne room, the king, Quintak, stared into the pool of mercury and molten glass, as an image of Luther dissipated. "One by one, I plant the seeds."

  "He's unaware?" Pintos asked.

  "It would appear that way."

  "Then he'll come to us."

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Luther approached the spectator stands. His duel was to be the third of the night, and while the stands weren't empty, they weren't packed either. A cart passed by with spiced cider, and Luther claimed a mug of the hot brew. The first two duels lasted about a half hour each.

  Luther knew it was his turn. He stepped up to the stone platform and turned to face his opponent. Only it wasn't one opponent, but a master and apprentice together. Shit.

  The master was aged, easily ninety or older, and leaned heavily on an oak staff taller than his crippled form. The orange and yellow Topaz in the master's staff already burned with a golden fire like a tiny sun. The apprentice had red hair and the beginnings of a red beard. His staff was adorned with a ruby, and penetrating rays of light already grew from within.

  A sense of doom ached inside Luther as he put up his first layer of spherical shielding. Kirl shouted, "Begin."

  A ball of red fire, hot enough to melt iron into steel, lanced from the pair towards Luther. A great vortex of stirring twists of reality formed about the master Luther faced. The tornado of power bent light as it passed through it. It seemed more like a whirlwind of shards of magnifying glass but was clearly intangible. Luther held his ground as fireball after fireball slammed into his protective ward. The heat bled through, and sweat poured out of his body. The air inside his dome of power blazed hotter than any desert sun could make it.

  Part of his mind wanted to call quarter. Another, stronger part, reached into his wellspring of arcane goodness and pulled forth enough magic to throw a massive lightning str
ike at his opponents. The red-haired apprentice laughed with glee. The master's hands didn't shake, and other than that he was leaning on his staff heavily, he seemed stronger than a great tree.

  Juxta shouted, "Don't quit until you're exhausted!"

  Luther was mighty close to that point, and the flow of fireballs from the other two was a constant barrage. He bolstered his defenses again, pulling magic in from regions he didn't know he could tap. He drew three glistening golden triangles on the pair assaulting him. Luther willed, Shoc.

  The flashes of lightning lit up the entire spectator stands, but it bounced harmlessly off the others' shields.

  Luther yelled, "Quarter!"

  The fireballs still in the air dissipated to little balls of dust.

  "You could have gone on," Juxta said.

  "Possibly yes, but am I of any use if I'm in some kind of drained out coma?"

  "Yes! When you're in a coma, we can paint on your face every day."

  Luther approached his opponents. "Good match."

  The apprentice sighed. "We barely flexed our muscles."

  "Yes, well, it was two versus one."

  "But you're hardly sweating. You can stand and walk."

  He didn't feel like being incapacitated. "A man must know his limits."

  Kirl approached. "You'll push yourself further next time."

  Maybe there won't be a next time. "I lasted almost as long as the first two duels tonight. And I knew I was outmatched. When you know you're going to lose--"

  "You've got to try harder. Your life may be on the line next time."

  Luther could have easily drained the other Magi's vortex and stolen all of that power, but he held his tongue. He grabbed a second mug of the spiced cider and watched two more bouts.

  Luther was sorting through some texts that were frail and seemed like insects had nested in them in the past. He pulled what was really just a stack of parchments off another book and looked. Ralph Storm again. Luther buried himself in the tome. It talked about digging wells and setting up irrigation. It had drawings of seeds that were good and bad. Different plants were pictured that would thrive and bear fruit in a short three-month growing cycle. Even some that would bear edibles within a one to two-month cycle, but to finish seeds, those plants often needed a full three months of growth.