Striking Chains

by Kris Schnee

  It took days for a sealed message to reach him, carried from the temple. He opened it in private and read the words of the One.

  A Servant who does only easy tasks is less useful than one who struggles. Know that there is a reason for continuing the harsh treatment of the Noose a little longer. You can likely guess it. Have faith that the State's plans serve the people overall, even if individuals must suffer. What is right and good is the health of the State, and it will improve.

  Dominic prepared to burn the paper as was customary, but read it again. The fact that the One could devote some of His thoughts to the worries of a single Servant helped to prove that the State's cause was just. But... the message was for Dominic personally, not to the Servants in general. He was worth the One's attention, but apparently the many impoverished Bound were not.

  He destroyed the message and lay down in bed, still troubled.

  * * *

  He only spent a week at Temple Island before heading out again. He owned little, so it was easy to put his spare clothes and trinkets in storage. Dominic consulted the latest assignments being offered. He reviewed and copied pages of notes on spellcraft, let some younger Servants copy his notes in turn, then made an expedition northeast. Then more studying and another trip outward and back, like breathing.

  He was no longer a mere copyist. He was a bit older now, increasingly tempted to find a wife among the Servants but afraid of being bound to one, of needing to come home for more than rest and resupply. The crop of Servants felt younger to him these days. They offered him coins for instruction and for adding to the note collection they were calling "Dom's Unraveling". He wasn't quite sure if the title was a compliment for his clear explanation of Weave manipulation, or a comment on his mental state.

  He had to kill one Citizen for murder and another for fraud. He'd also blessed a dying child, officiated Citizen weddings, done minor healing and entertainment for the Bound masses, and escorted more magic-talented youngsters to Temple Island to become Citizens or Servants. Each time there was an especially promising candidate, he'd made a point of stopping by a city, handing them money, and letting the town test their character before they could be thrown into the chaos of Nether life. The main difference was that he tried to be less cryptic about it than Jasper. All these things were part of a proper Servant's life, well within his discretion to handle as he pleased. And so, they made little impression on him.

  It was later, over three years since that first battle with the bandits, that he went looking again for a larger purpose.

  9. To the Western Front

  There was an opportunity for a mission to the western border, near the city of Saint Wylan. Irene, the Servant that Dominic had recruited, was the one to bring it to his attention. She met him in the Nether's magic practice room while he was flinging darts. He stepped from side to side and spun, whirling his missiles around in emerald trails, then held out his palm and made them converge as a shield that sought out fast-moving attacks. He did this just as Irene entered and found himself forming a barrier right in front of her face.

  She laughed. "You're good at this. I don't need another mask, though." She brought up the new mission that had been posted this morning. "We should apply quickly if we're going to get it."

  "We?" said Dominic, wiping his sweaty brow.

  "I haven't been to any of the borderlands yet. It'd be nice to actually use my skills instead of sitting around studying. Er... You obviously do more than studying yourself."

  Dominic casually floated one of his darts above his palm while thinking. He had Irene explain the mission details. He said, "A request for a few Servants to aid the western army at the border forts? Interesting."

  "Do you think there might be a war?"

  "Maybe. Usually it's just a back-and-forth testing of defenses, and the westies have been harassing our coast lately." He smiled. "So, you're looking for adventure?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "You know we might have to kill people. Even our own people."

  "What? But we're fighting barbarians."

  Dominic put his darts away. "It's part of the job, Irene. We find problems and solve them, and sometimes that means being instruments of the State's justice. And it's not always pretty."

  Irene looked at the floor. "Well... If there are criminals to kill, they're no better than the outsiders. I'll do it if I need to."

  Dominic and Irene put in their names as volunteers, then found Jakob in the Undercove district, or rather, over it. He was in a boat, training with a more experienced Servant to maintain the enchanted coral pillars that repelled the sea. Dominic admired the water-work but had never looked much into it himself. Pure water was magically inert, but water that was full of life was subject to spell-based control much like wood.

  It turned out to be impractical to hail Jakob from underneath, though it was fascinating to watch a boat sail overhead. Other people in the district stared, and the mage with Jakob decided to show off by making the boat actually dive into the sea and resurface like a breaching whale. Dominic's stomach churned, but it was quite a show.

  Eventually Dominic -- Irene had wandered off -- found Jakob by a dock reserved for Servant business. He tossed Jakob a towel but he repelled it like an incoming arrow, and grinned. "No, I want to practice." He flicked a burst of emerald light down across his clothes and made the water flee, drying him rapidly.

  "Thinking of becoming an aquatic specialist mage? You've mastered Control Towel, I see."

  "I don't know yet. That was Servant Harrik with me, making us show off. He's recruiting Servants for some kind of project. I think we'll be building more coral pillars and expanding the Undercove area."

  "Irene and I were thinking of taking a trip out west." He explained. "Interested in coming along?"

  "All right. It could give me some perspective. Do you think..."

  "What?"

  Jakob spoke quietly. "Do you think it's really so bad for the Mithraic barbarians? Are they all ritually burned in the name of a sun god and living in fear of bird monsters, that sort of thing? I mean, a lot of that is probably just rumor, but... how well do they eat in those lands?"

  "I wouldn't know. When I looked into the northlands though, I found out about the Velesian race being real, and that just led me to hear the rumors about lands even farther away. I expect if we go west we'll get a clearer view of those people and hear crazy lies about whoever their neighbors are."

  "I'd like to go, then. Maybe we can learn something to help our own people."

  * * *

  The three of them got a message from the Boundless One approving their application and giving them funding and a departure date. They got busy studying and training. Dominic hadn't been told to brush up on his Mithraic since there wasn't likely to be much need for peaceful contact, but he studied the language anyway and encouraged Jakob and Irene to pick up a few phrases.

  They set out near the end of winter. Dominic reluctantly said goodbye to his colleagues in the Nether and took a last, longing spin through his favorite instructional books. "I'm sure I'll have a story to tell everyone when I get back."

  * * *

  They sailed west and north from Temple Island. They were aboard trade ship Seahorse, loaded down with preserved fruit and hardtack, canteens and tents. Jakob came back from inspecting the cargo hold and chatted with Dominic about the magic of squeezing the moisture out of food, then added, "If only this food supply were sailing east instead of to a warfront."

  "It'll get better there, Jakob. Just be patient. I had my suspicions before, but now that we're seeing these supplies heading west I'm pretty sure: it's about metal."

  "What?"

  "The State is concerned for the ore supply, and we get that either from Shirker's Noose or from the northern tribes. If there's a war brewing, the State needs to make sure there's no disruption on your island that could interrupt the supply. That's why the people there need to live a little longer under strict rule."

  Jakob sighed.
"So that the State can fight better."

  Irene was worse company; she was seasick the whole time. A contrary wind made the trip longer than it should've been, and forced the ship to tack repeatedly and tilt back and forth each time. Even Dominic was a little queasy.

  The ship's crew of ten was all Citizens as usual. A bunch of branded young men and women hoping to earn their way into a comfortable life as managers of villages, or maybe to spend their careers in the military. On a slow afternoon at sea, he asked one of the lieutenants, "Do you wish you were on a warship?"

  "They're all warships, sir. What we do serves the war effort."

  "Good sentiment."

  Dominic made himself useful offering some tips on wood-shaping magic to the crew. He liked having the excuse to explain things without the bureaucracy of registering as these people's teacher, and really they were teaching him practical details that he'd never suspected. Jakob found out about the ongoing lesson and joined in.

  It was sunset and fog was closing in. Dominic was resting in his cabin next to Irene and Jakob when an urgent murmur came from the doorway. "Enemy sighted. Silence. To arms." No bell rang, and there was muffled movement throughout the ship.

  The lieutenant stopped by. "The captain wants you, Servants."

  They scrambled to reach his cabin. There, the ship's master had obviously just pushed his dinner aside to bring out a chart. "Servants. Our lookout just spotted a barbarian ship sneaking up from upwind, northwest. Our orders are to proceed to the coast near the border forts, which are also northwest. Normally, doctrine calls for us to head inland even at risk of being pinned against the coast. But with three Servants aboard, we have more options." A seagull with a familiar's silver marker band perched on a chair beside him.

  Dominic said, "Do you think they plan to attack?" Baccata and the enemy were not officially at war, but there'd been enough "incidents" lately to confuse the matter.

  The captain said, "I suspect so. We all stand ready, and we've got crossbows and blades." His seagull posed threateningly.

  "Your courage is commendable, but the State needs these supplies more than it needs a battle with -- do we even know what the enemy has?"

  "That's likely the Hatchet, operating out this far east. Light ballista ship. What I'm really asking is, can you Servants take her on? We haven't yet changed course for fear of giving away that we see her, and I need to know right away."

  Irene said, "I'm ready to fight."

  Jakob added, "If we need to. But I don't like our odds against an armed ship."

  Dominic nodded. "Captain, the three of us will stand ready, but I suggest sticking to your usual doctrine and tacking northeast toward the coast. Evade." He wondered if the captain and crew were eager to prove themselves, at the risk of taking on a stronger opponent.

  The captain relented. "Fine." The wings of his gull drooped. He called for a crewman and gave orders to head toward the coast, instead of tacking back west.

  Up on deck, Dominic kept watch. The enemy might send a bird of their own to scout overhead, but that was risky for the same reason Seahorse's captain was keeping his gull belowdecks: it'd give them away. The fog was growing denser but everyone spoke in whispers. The rustle of ropes and flicker of the sails sounded loud. The sky darkened.

  The lieutenant made the rounds of the ship, finding that all was well. But then one crewman hissed for attention. "Sir, dolphin ahead."

  "You're sure?"

  "Saw the fin and spray."

  The officer cursed. "Tell the captain." He turned to Dominic and whispered, "Wild animal or familiar, we can't tell."

  "If it's a familiar then they have to be practically on top of us. They can't go very far, right?"

  "Right. And the lookout sees nothing in this mist." The lieutenant looked calmer.

  They approached the coast, where if necessary they could offload some of their cargo in a hurry. When it was just a few miles off, there was a puff of wind from dead ahead. Dominic sensed it as a flicker in the Weave, a burst of force and motion. He swore and dived to the deck, calling out, "Down!" An instant later others seemed to sense it too and grabbed whatever they could.

  A sharp log ripped through the bow of Seahorse, making the whole ship shudder with the thunderous impact. Jakob darted belowdecks to help with emergency repairs. Dominic was on his way too, but the captain stopped him. "Can you counterattack? Quickly, now!" Without waiting for a reply he shouted orders to turn to starboard, running away downwind.

  Dominic glanced down and saw the ship by the Weave's light. The ballista bolt was easily the width of his arm and tipped with iron, launched from a huge mage-assisted siege crossbow. It had peeled the hull aside like paper. He could see spells at work as Jakob and others warped the new wood into an improvised patch in the hull. He looked back up and began to sense the enemy ship waiting dead ahead.

  By turning, Seahorse was becoming a bigger target by the moment, and had no heavy weapons. Dominic called for Irene and one of the crew to help him raise a long stake into the air by magic. "Can you aim this thing, Citizen? I'll give you the raw power."

  "Aye. Push in the direction I start it off." The crewman tilted the missile toward the foreign ship, and when he started to launch it, Dominic shouted and added his own force to the motion. The wood whooshed off through the air, scattering green sparks bright enough that anyone with an ounce of magic sight could see them. In the distance there was a satisfying crunch and a shout.

  "That bit 'em!" said the crewman.

  But then the enemy's Weave pattern was clearly gearing up for another shot, at least to Dominic's senses. The Hatchet began to emerge from the mist, showing their main ballista mounted on the prow above a bronze ram. The ram was at least as dangerous considering the boarding crew that'd follow. The captain called out, "Maintain hard starboard!"

  Dominic said to Irene, "Deflection spell, upward!" Then he felt the distant launch and yelled, "Incoming!" a second before the enemy fired.

  This time he and Irene reshaped the Weave in front of them for defense. It was no good blocking something as heavy and fast as the ballista bolt. Instead they made a pattern that curved upward, trying to guide the wood along a path that'd miss them.

  The sharp log was aimed at the hull again, but the spell caught it. The impact was upward this time, biting along the port hull in a grazing arc that splintered the railing, then flew up into the sails and rigging. A man screamed somewhere up there. Dominic realized with horror that the heavy bolt was about to fall right back down, blunt end first, into the deck. "Deflect, uh, port!" He tried to re-use the spell he'd just cast and guide the missile right back into the sea. It spun a little but the Weave was already snarled by overuse. The log smashed next to the mast, crashing down through Seahorse's hull and embedding itself in the hold. Meanwhile Hatchet tore fully through the mist, ready to ram them.

  The captain said, "Abandon ship! Salvage what cargo you can!"

  The crew dropped the rigging and crossbows and emergency repairs they were working on, and raced below to grab what few armloads of supplies they could fetch by muscle and spellcraft. Dominic and the other Servants readied the lifeboats and helped float cargo into them, easing the weight of barrels and crates.

  The crew started lowering their boats into the sea as quickly as they dared. The enemy held their fire as if expecting to ram and board. The captain raced below, then returned looking wet and grim. "There; I've scuttled her. Best I can do. Let's go."

  The crew fled for their lives, toward the coast. Seahorse rapidly took on water from where the captain had magically yanked free several crucial planks. Hatchet veered aside at the last minute to scrape against the hull, and men on board hurried with their magic to try keeping Seahorse afloat long enough to loot her.

  "It won't do them much good," the captain said with some satisfaction. "We've perfected that scuttling system after the last capture."

  Dominic said, "This is not the sort of naval innovation I'd be proud of."

 
The captain snorted. The men rowed with all available oars, and it looked like they were safe for now. "We've hit them back over the years. It looks like we're openly at war now; they know they can't blame this attack on pirates or storms, not with us alive."

  The supplies aboard the boats weren't nearly as much as the border forces would be expecting. Dominic said, "We Servants should hurry onward and let the forts know what happened. Unless you want help with carrying things?"

  "Can you carry a barrel all night?" The moon had risen and the late winter chill was starting to bite.

  "Only with a lot of resting." Magic training didn't focus on maintaining spells for long periods.

  "Then go on ahead." The lifeboats were in shallow water now, and the Seahorse had mostly slipped beneath the waves.

  "We'll send people back to meet you by land, then. There should be a village just north of here." Dominic led the Servants ashore, helped unload the surviving cargo, and set out on foot.

  * * *

  The lack of camping gear was good incentive to press onward. Magic dried their clothes but couldn't keep them warm. As they trudged north, Dominic thought to ask, "Is everyone still armed?" They were, and Dominic kept his darts inside his robe. "Good. I wish we had better things to offer, though."

  Irene said, "We're the resource, more than the equipment was."

  Around midnight they staggered into a fishing village and called on the Citizen family, who had a simple one-floor stucco house surrounded by workshops. Dominic explained that they needed Bound labor immediately, and a hot meal for the struggling Seahorse crew, and a messenger to head for the nearest port village, to inform the capital. Suddenly the village was abuzz with Bound getting roused to action or waking up by themselves to see what was happening.

  In minutes the village had been set in motion to serve the State. A group went south to help the crew, the messenger went past them on a horse, and the Citizens' other horses were now on loan to the Servants along with a few blankets.

  Dominic said, "We'll rest for an hour and set out for the border forts. We should be close now."