Scholar of Magic

by Michael G. Manning

  “Blake.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We will probably sleep for at least half the day, but a few things need to be started sooner. After Tiny is settled, go into the city and find a weaponsmith willing to do a quick job of some silver inlay on a few weapons. Don’t haggle too much over the price. Speed is more important to me than saving coin at this point,” explained Will.

  “Certainly, sir. What sort of weapons do you want me to have them—”

  Will cut him off. “Look at Tiny’s gear. It’s more important that he have them than me. Spear heads, a new falchion, dagger—you’ve seen his kit. If there will be a significant time delay then have them start on a sword or spear for him before anything else.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  Will nodded. “How much do you think you’ll need to give them for a deposit?”

  Blake waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, sir. I’ve been handling odd errands for the royal family for years now, some of them far stranger than this. Every merchant in town knows me on sight. They’ll start without a deposit. I can give you an exact total when you wake.”

  Will sighed, grateful that at least one thing would be taken care of.

  Once he was in the master bedroom, he started to construct the self-cleaning spell he used on occasions when he was in a hurry, but he paused halfway through the spell. He’d been working on Selene’s eighth-order spell off and on over the last year and he was close to succeeding. Trying it while he was so tired probably would mean an automatic failure, but his stubbornness surfaced and made the decision for him.

  Sure enough, he forgot a crucial piece as he was constructing the spell, and it fragmented halfway through. Frustrated, he looked for his notes to refresh his memory, but the page they were written on defied his efforts to locate it. He wanted to pull his hair out.

  He had originally copied the spell from a book kept in Wurthaven’s library. He’d have to go and make another copy when he could find some time away from his current hellish crisis. Then he stopped and thumped himself on the head. “I still have a copy.”

  A few days before Selene’s disastrous near-wedding to Count Spry, she and Will had had one last touching reunion. At the time they had thought it would be their last. During their time together, he had taught Selene two of his spells and she had copied her signature spell into the journal that Arrogan had left him. At the time she had told him to look at it later, but he’d completely forgotten about it.

  Summoning the journal from the limnthal, he thumbed through it to the blank pages at the back. The last page with writing was fresher than the others, the ink still black and crisp. It was titled ‘Selene’s Solution’ in the elegant, flowing script that Selene seemed to use effortlessly. Beneath the title was a precise diagram along with the rune inscription that listed the order of construction. Every part of it seemed to embody the care and attention to detail that Selene had put into all of her endeavors.

  At the bottom she had signed it as he had requested, Selene Maligant, but after that was a small note and an arrow pointing to the edge of the paper. ‘Turn me,’ it read. Flipping the page, he found a short letter written on the back side.

  Will,

  Thank you for everything up until now. I never thought I’d have a friend such as you. Know that my heart will always be with you, no matter what the future holds. I think in the days to come you will probably be very angry with me for the choices I have made, but I had only bad options. Someday I hope you will understand and forgive me.

  Whatever happens, I will always love you.

  Though I may not be your partner in this life, I will still do what I can for you. In the interest of safety, I won’t name them here, but remember that the two young women you care so deeply for are my good friends. It may be that they can never know why you care, but I will do my best to provide opportunities for you to cultivate their friendship. I am sure that with my recommendation and some time to know you, they will begin to appreciate you almost as much as I do.

  The future isn’t all dark. There must always be some light, or the shadows wouldn’t exist either.

  Yours Always,

  Selene

  The letter took him back to the emotions of that day. They had been desperate, and it had felt as though the world was about to collapse on their heads. He had felt much as he did now, and it served as a reminder that perhaps he would get through his current crisis. There was always hope. Little had she known that just a few days after that the two of them would be wed to one another. Or that we’d then be separated for a full year before seeing each other even once.

  His vision blurred as he turned the page back to the spell diagram and carefully tried again. This time there were no mistakes. After a year of frustration and seemingly fruitless efforts, the spell came together flawlessly. It sparkled above his hand, the complex collection of runes glowing with turyn as he invested it with power and set the boundaries for its effect.

  When he released it, it expanded gradually to encompass the room. A warm, gentle breeze swept over him, removing the dirt and grime from his clothes even as it swept the fresh tears from his cheeks. The spell was far gentler, yet still more thorough than the spells he had been forced to use over the past year. The last time he had felt its effects had been the day that Selene had inscribed the spell for him.

  Opening his eyes, he saw that the room was cleaner than ever. The dust was gone, and the bed looked freshly made. His clothes and armor were pristine, and beneath them he felt as fresh as if he had just left the bath. Undressing, he lay down and let his exhaustion sweep him into the realm of dreams. He was sure Selene would be waiting for him there.

  Chapter 18

  Will slept like the dead, and when he woke, he discovered that although he hadn’t done too much during the fighting, he had still acquired several bruises and a sore back. Probably from when I was jerked backward and landed so hard.

  He rose quickly, dressed, and went downstairs where he found Tiny seated in the dining room, an empty plate in front of him. Blake stood by the door to the kitchen. Will glared daggers at his manservant. “You didn’t!”

  Blake’s lips twitched, betraying the hint of a smile. “Didn’t what, sir?”

  Ignoring him, Will gave Tiny an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to eat that.”

  Tiny shrugged, his face unconcerned. “I’ve had worse. You haven’t eaten what the new cook for Company B serves these days.”

  Will turned back to Blake. “If he dies, it will be your head,” he pronounced in mock seriousness.

  Blake laughed. “I’ll take my chances. It wasn’t that bad. In fact, there’s still some left if you want to try it.”

  In the kitchen, Will found a small pot still half full of what might have been oat porridge before it had congealed into a passable substitute for brick mortar. He carried it straight to the back door and began scraping the contents into the scrap bin.

  “Hey, that was still good!” protested Blake. “I was going to eat the other half if you didn’t want it.”

  Will ignored him, then checked the stove to make sure it was still hot. “I’m making a fresh batch. Pay close attention, and maybe we can avoid poisoning anyone else in the future.” He gave precise instructions as he worked, making sure Blake took note of quantities, the amount of water used, how he seasoned, as well as the relative heat of the stove. While he did, he interspersed the conversation with other questions.

  “How did it go with the weapons?”

  Blake smiled. “A week and they’ll have two spears and two falchions ready. It might have taken longer, but I got him to promise to work on ours first. You’ll be interested to know they just finished a big order of similar items for the king. He ordered them prepared several weeks ago. Luckily for us, the extra leftover materials made things a little cheaper for us.”

  Will gave him a sour look. “It would have been even luckier if we’d known what the king knew then so we could
have weapons ready now and damn the money. How much do I need to give you for the smith?”

  Blake shrugged. “Nothing, it will be paid out of the accounts.”

  He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What accounts?”

  “Her Highness’s accounts,” said the manservant with a smug look.

  “I have access to those? You never mentioned that before.”

  Blake nodded. “She gave the instructions before she left.”

  “But you didn’t tell me,” said Will pointedly.

  His servant smiled brightly and nodded. “That is correct. I did not.”

  “But you probably should have, shouldn’t you?”

  “That’s a matter subject to some interpretation. Since you never asked, I never thought to mention it.”

  Will glared silently at the man for several long seconds.

  Blake held up his hands. “In my defense, I wasn’t sure about you at first. I’ve been taking care of the princess since she was just a girl. I was worried you might be planning to steal or waste her money.”

  Will started to growl, but then caught himself. Taking a deep breath, he responded, “Fair enough. Actually, I can’t say that I blame you. In fact, I admire your principles, and to prove my honesty to you, I’m still willing to pay for the weapons. I never intended to have her foot the bill.”

  Blake shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, sir.”

  “I insist.”

  “Truly, Master William. Her Highness would have me strapped if she found out I made you pay for this, especially when it is something so important to your own survival. Trust me, the sum is insignificant compared to her accounts.”

  “How much did it cost?”

  “For a rush job with new weapons and the silver to do the inlay it was just under two hundred gold crowns.”

  Will had nearly five hundred still saved in the limnthal. “That’s nothing. I can cover it.”

  Blake shook his head. “Based on what I know of you, that’s almost half of your reserve.”

  “How do you know that?” asked Will, feeling mildly alarmed.

  “When the princess married you, I started doing some research. Based on what I learned from the Bursar’s Office and the Department of Healing and Psyche, you nearly earned enough to pay the weregild for Count Spry’s son—before the king paid it in your stead. Given your other purchases and what I gleaned from the merchants in the city, you spent close to half of that. Admirably, you spent a significant portion on armor for your friends back in Barrowden. By itself, such generosity isn’t that uncommon among commoners, but that was the first indicator that prompted me to begin trusting your motives.”

  “Weregild?”

  Blake sighed. “That’s the technical term for what commoners call a blood-price or blood-debt. Sometimes I forget who I’m talking to.”

  Damn, he gets snarky when money is the topic of conversation, doesn’t he? thought Will. “I don’t want anything to do with the king’s money. I’d rather pay myself than owe that man anything.”

  “This isn’t the king’s money. Princess Selene has her own separate accounts.”

  Will growled, feeling stubborn. “Which he gave to her and can probably take back at a moment’s notice. What’s the difference?”

  “Begging your pardon, sir, but that isn’t true. While her money did initially come from the royal family, it belongs to her alone. The king can’t touch it unless he personally overturned the control of the banks, which would likely result in a civil war. Her money will only revert to the crown if she dies without child or husband.”

  That set Will back on his heels. “Huh,” he said, for lack of a witty response. His mind was blank for a moment, then something else occurred to him. “Is the cellar still empty?”

  “It isn’t empty, but it hasn’t been restocked. That won’t be possible until late summer and fall when the harvests come in,” answered Blake. “Why do you ask?”

  “I need a dungeon,” said Will. “Nothing fancy, just enough room to keep one prisoner. How much do you think it would cost to refit the cellar for that?”

  Blake lifted one brow and gave him a curious stare. “Can I assume you aren’t planning to take up torture or other illegal practices, like abducting free citizens?”

  Will rubbed his chin. “I can’t promise that I’ll be following the law at all times, but I don’t plan on torturing anyone or hurting innocents. Also, it will need to be built to accommodate a prisoner that may have strength well beyond human norms.”

  “A vampire cell, then?”

  Will nodded. “I need a pig too.”

  “You’ll need a mason to do some work. Most of the walls are stone, but some aren’t, and you don’t want it to be able to dig out. Then you’ll need a smith to do some ironwork. We’ll have to make sure the shackles can’t be torn free. Would you prefer a cage or shackles?”

  “I’ll need to access the creature to take, uh, samples, so shackles might be best. Perhaps a large cage with shackles inside? That way we can feel safe that it won’t escape but I’ll still be able to get to it when I need to.”

  “That sounds reasonable. May I ask why you need such a thing?” asked Blake.

  “We captured one last night,” said Will. “The things are faster than you’d believe and stronger than even someone like Tiny. There are potions that can be made to improve a soldier’s strength and speed, and it just so happens that their blood is the primary ingredient.”

  Blake shuddered almost imperceptibly but kept his expression blank. “You plan to feed the pig to it so you can harvest its blood?”

  “It’s a fate befitting a vampire, don’t you think? They feed on our blood to survive. I intend to bleed it to help our effort to destroy them.”

  “Do you need equipment to create these potions?”

  Will shook his head. “I have arrangements with the Alchemy Department already. I rent a laboratory from them. Oh! Before I forget, I need a hard leather case with a soft lining and places for potion vials.” Taking out one of his journals, Will ripped a page out and used a charcoal stick to sketch out what he wanted. “Can you find something like that, or have it made?”

  Blake nodded. “We had something similar when I was serving the king. I’ll see about finding one.”

  A bell chimed, informing them that someone was at the door. “Tell whoever it is that I’m not taking visitors,” said Will.

  “Understood.” Blake left to check the door while Will ladled the fresh porridge into two bowls. There was still enough for Tiny as well, for Will had figured the portions with the assumption that the big man would still be hungry.

  Blake returned a moment later. “It’s a young woman, Janice Edelman. She says she is a classmate.”

  She knows better than to try and visit, thought Will. “Let her in and bring her to the dining room.” He reapportioned the porridge, two small cups, one for Tiny and one for Blake, since they’d already eaten, and two bowls, one for himself and one for Janice. Placing them on a tray, he carried them into the dining room just as Janice entered.

  She was gazing around the room with wide eyes, then she looked at Will. “They hired you to be the cook here? I thought you married the princess.”

  Will put the tray down on the table. “Ha, ha, ha. Tiny, this is my friend, Janice Edelman. Janice, this is one of my friends from the army.”

  “Tiny?” she said uncertainly.

  Tiny was already on his feet, bowing deeply. “Begging your pardon, miss. My proper name is John Shaw, but my friends call me Tiny. I’d be pleased if you did the same.”

  A bit of color rose to her cheeks as Tiny straightened and Janice stared up at him, presumably stunned by his size. After a few seconds, she tentatively held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mister Shaw.”

  “Squire Tiny,” corrected Will. “I forgot. He’s been squired recently.”

  “Just Tiny is fine, Miss Edelman,” said the big man, blushing.

  “Janice will do,” she rep
lied. “I think we’re all friends here.” She tore her eyes away from the giant and looked at the bowl Will had put in front of her. “What’s this?”

  “Oat porridge,” said Will. “I made a second portion to put my man Blake in his place.”

  “Your man?”

  Blake entered the room and gave a quick bow. “Word, Blake Word, Miss Edelman. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  A minute later and they were all seated. Janice was on her third spoonful of porridge, and Tiny was just finishing his cup, a mournful expression on his face. “What is this again?” she asked.

  “Oat porridge,” Will supplied.

  “Are you sure?” Tiny asked. “I’ve never had anything quite like that.”

  “I don’t really like oats, usually,” said Janice. “Mushrooms? Why would you put mushrooms in?” She mumbled as she spooned in another large bite.

  He smiled. “I take it you like it? I used mushrooms, onions, and salt pork, plus a bit of sage to lighten the flavor.”

  “It’s terrible,” said Blake, spitefully.

  “You really don’t like it?” said Will, surprised.

  The manservant lifted his empty cup. “No, damn you. It was too good to resist.”

  “I didn’t even notice the onions,” said Tiny.

  “That was where the hint of sweetness came from,” Will replied. “I minced them before cooking them until they were dark. They almost disappear into the final dish.” While Janice was only a quarter through her bowl, Will had finished two-thirds of his own. He pushed the rest across the table to his large friend. It was a gesture familiar to them both from their time together in the army.

  Tiny finished it with a grateful smile and no comments.

  Janice leaned forward as she paused between bites. “I found some interesting information. Maybe we can talk privately after I finish this?”

  “Is this about my vampire research the other day?” asked Will.

  Janice glanced at the others, then relaxed slightly. “I guess they’re in this with you?”