The Archmage Unbound

by Michael G. Manning

  I sighed, “I don’t have a dungeon and even if I did he’d probably sicken if I kept him there. From what I can see he lost a lot of blood before he stopped his leg from bleeding. James says he was pinned under the portcullis for a short time.”

  “You only need him conscious and awake for as much time as it takes to find out what he knows,” he replied implying that I would have the wizard executed shortly after that.

  “I don’t intend to execute him,” I said simply. Harold looked shocked and given my behavior the day previous I couldn’t blame him. I had been close to doing much worse than mere execution. The memory made me shudder for a second, and I had to struggle to suppress the visions of fire and torment that still seemed somewhat attractive to me.

  Harold stood, agitated, and after a moment he spoke. I was quite certain he had thrown out the first several sentences that came to mind. I had to admire his self-control. “I assume you have some particular reason for putting him up in a soft bed and nursing him back to health.”

  “I do. I intend to put him to work on my behalf. I believe he may be more valuable to me alive than dead, though only time will tell.”

  Harold’s eye twitched. “What about Lord Dorian? What about your wife?”

  My temper snapped and I stood up to face the young man Dorian had left behind to serve me. With two strides I came face to face with him, our noses nearly touching. Harold was a tall man, for his eyes were nearly level with my own, and his shoulders were much broader. “Don’t test me Harold and be damned sure you don’t suggest that my feelings for my wife or my friend are insincere or lacking in some fashion.”

  He held my gaze for a second before looking down and away. “Pardon me my Lord. It was not my place to address you so.”

  I regained my balance quickly. “Someday it will be Harold, someday it will. I respect your honesty, but you do not know me well enough yet.” I put a hand to his shoulder, “Help me get him out of his clothes, they’ll be bringing in the hot water in a moment.”

  His eyes widened, “Shouldn’t we let the maids do that?”

  I almost laughed but I kept a serious face, “Hmm you may be right. I’ll ask Lisette to undress him. Perhaps she could help bathe him as well.”

  He shook his head, “No that wouldn’t be right either.” After a few minutes we had him stripped down and ready for the tub. Our prisoner’s eyes were open now and he seemed more awake though whenever he tried to speak nothing but gibberish came out. Harold was looking at the man’s right leg, which was bent and swollen. A long silver scar marked where it had been pierced by the portcullis. “That looks bad,” he observed.

  “You’re right about that,” I agreed. “I’ll see what I can do about it. Don’t let anyone disturb me until I’m finished.”

  “How will I know when you’re done?”

  “I’ll be looking around and talking to you,” I said, giving him a wink and a smile. Harold shook his head and I knew he wanted to comment on my being a smart ass but he held his tongue. I sat down by the bed and closed my eyes, turning my vision inward and then shifting my focus to the man lying on the bed beside me.

  His heart was beating strongly but his body was hot with fever. His wound was obviously infected but I wasn’t entirely sure what to do about that. Instead I examined his leg and the tissues around his wound carefully to see if there were any obvious problems. His femur was broken and had begun to heal at a bad angle, next to it an abscess had formed around something foreign.

  I shifted my focus, examining the area more closely. A small piece of stone had lodged there and the infection had spread from there, creating a large pocket of pus and fluid around the bit of rock. It might take a while, but eventually the infection would kill him, if the abscess weren’t drained and the stone removed. If he survived that he would most certainly be lamed by the badly healed bone. Luckily both problems were things I could easily deal with.

  I decided to fix the bone first. Draining the wound would be a messy process; it could wait until after the bath. Briefly I considered letting him feel the pain when I straightened his bone. The man was conscious enough that the pain would be intense. After a brief moral struggle I damped the nerve impulses from his leg and carefully straightened the bone. An audible ‘click’ could be heard when the part that had already begun healing came apart again and I sensed more than heard Harold’s gasp beside me as he watched. I aligned the ends and then carefully knitted them together. It wasn’t quite as good as it would be after a month or two healing naturally, but the join was strong enough he would be able to walk on it without fear. The swelling and pain from the infection would probably make that a moot point however.

  I opened my eyes and looked at Harold, “All done… for now,” I said.

  “That made my skin crawl,” said the big warrior.

  I chuckled at that. “Help me get him into the tub.” Harold got behind the wizard and put his arms around the man’s chest and then lifted him up by main force, leaving me to lift his legs and guide them into the copper bathing tub. “Mind his head, I’m not sure if he can keep it above the water,” I cautioned.

  Surprisingly the fellow sat up on his own, so we didn’t have to work too hard to keep him from drowning. His mouth worked and strange sounds came out but I still couldn’t make sense of anything he said.

  Half an hour later we had him back in the bed and he smelled much better. “How strong a stomach do you have?” I asked Harold.

  He grimaced, “I considered myself strong stomached before, but I have a feeling I’m not up to whatever it is you have in mind.”

  “I need to drain the pus from his wound and clean it out.”

  “I’ll get Joe to help you. He’s done a lot of minor doctoring for the soldiers and his belly is as strong as any man’s I know,” he said.

  “That’ll be fine,” I said and twenty minutes later I had Joe McDaniel beside me instead.

  “I’ll just wait out here in case you need me,” said Harold as he stepped out of the room.

  “Find Lisette for me,” I called after him. “I’ll need more hot water and some towels. After she brings those she can wait with you… in case we need anything else.” I smiled to myself, might as well give them some time to chat. That pleasant thought was followed by a sharp pang as I realized I’d not be having any more chances for small talk with Penny. Gritting my teeth I pushed that thought aside and concentrated on the task at hand.

  I looked into the wounded man’s eyes, “I know you’re probably still confused, but I need to clean out the wound on your leg. Do you understand?”

  The man nodded and grunted something. He was half bald and the hair remaining showed some grey already coming in, if I had to guess I would have judged his age at around forty. I glanced at Joe, “I need you to keep the towels and water handy to clean up the fluids when I drain his wound.”

  “Don’t you need to heat up a knife first?” he asked.

  “Not my way, just watch. You’ll see an opening in a minute,” I told him. Closing my eyes I relaxed and then drew my mind sharply into focus. Working within his leg I created a channel from the abscess to the surface and then opened a hole in the skin there. Then I began drawing the small piece of stone outward, following the channel I had created. As it moved pus began flowing out of the hole and a putrid smell threatened to break my concentration.

  Ignoring the stench I gently eased the stone out and then helped the rest of the pus and sanguineous fluids to exit the abscess. When I had finished I left a small opening in the skin so that the fluids that would collect in the wound afterward could drain as well. His body would have to heal the infection on its own; I had done as much as I knew to do at that point.

  Opening my eyes I looked at Joe, “I think that’s it.”

  “For such a young man Mordecai you’ve become far too familiar with wounds like this,” the older man noted.

  I nodded in agreement, “I got more experience than I wanted after the war with Gododdin.” Which
was true, even though we had won we had had plenty of casualties and a lot of those had led to septic wounds. Unfortunately many had died before I found any books detailing the best methods for dealing with such injuries.

  My prisoner was watching me carefully and his face held an expression of curiosity. His mouth opened and closed but only a hoarse croaking sound came out. He kept trying though, and eventually I made out a single word, “Thanks.”

  For some reason his gratitude enraged me. “Don’t thank me. I may yet kill you for what you’ve done.” Agitated I stood and left the room. Lisette was waiting outside, still talking with Harold. “Feed him,” I told her.

  Turning to Harold I addressed him directly. “Keep an eye on him. I’m going to rest for a while. If he attempts to remove the necklace get everyone out of the room.”

  He looked at me strangely, “Do you mind if I ask why?”

  “Because I like you with all your limbs still attached,” I said brusquely. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” With that pronouncement I left, I needed some air to clear my head. Hopefully the prisoner would be better able to talk by the time I returned.

  Chapter 29

  In spite of myself I didn’t return until much later. After a quick lunch I wound up falling asleep for several hours. I hadn’t realized how tired I was, but stress and the events of the past day had prevented me from sleeping much the night before. When I appeared that evening the sky was already turning dark.

  I found Harold still keeping watch in the room. He seemed glad to see me. “He’s been talking,” he informed me.

  “Why didn’t you send for me?”

  “I did, but they told me you were sleeping so I decided it could wait,” he replied.

  My nap had improved my mood, so I didn’t argue the point, “What has he said?”

  “I just told him my name,” said the man lying on the bed.

  I ignored him, keeping my eyes on Harold. After a moment he realized I was waiting on his response. “That’s it, he volunteered his first name and I told him to keep his mouth shut till you had time to talk to him.”

  I nodded, “You did well. Wait out in the hall for now. I want to speak to him alone for a while.”

  After the burly knight had left I turned my attention to the man watching me quietly from the bed. “What’s your name?”

  “Walter,” he stated simply. I could see by his face that he had been tempted to mention that he had already told Harold this, but his better sense had won out.

  “And your family name?”

  “Thatcher,” he replied. I could see the aura around him flicker as he lied.

  I briefly considered letting him continue to see what sort of tales he would spin but I didn’t think it would be very constructive. “Don’t lie to me Walter. It’s a bad way to start our conversation.”

  He gave me a nervous smile, “Sorry, I had to try.”

  “My wife is dead Walter. It’s a miracle you’re still alive at this point and my sense of humor is non-existent at the moment,” I said bluntly.

  “Why did you heal me?” he asked.

  It took every bit of self-control I still retained to keep from killing him then. “If you don’t tell me your name things are going to get ugly, and I’ll regret healing you even more than I already do.”

  “Walter Prathion,” he answered.

  “That’s a better start,” I told him. “I’m sure by now you’ve noticed a few things about your situation.”

  Walter nodded, “I can’t sense anything. Is this?” He held up the pendant I had clasped around his neck the day before.

  “Yes, that’s the reason you can’t sense much. It will also restrict your magical ability.”

  He frowned, “Where did you get something like this?”

  “I made it last night,” I replied. Using my dead wife’s necklace, I added mentally. I had changed the enchantment to completely lock the mind it protected away from the world, blocking his magical senses as well as his power. It was a side effect I had noticed when I first made this necklace to protect Penny and it was the main reason I had never worn one of the pendants I created. Now I was exploiting and strengthening that effect to effectively shackle Walter’s power. I had also replaced the clasp with one of my explosive iron balls. To avoid causing it to explode with my tampering I had spoken to the metal in the necklace and the metal in the iron sphere to convince them to fuse together seamlessly. The end result of my efforts was a necklace that contained two intertwined enchantments, break either, or break the circle, and it would explode. Only an archmage would be able to remove the necklace without breaking it.

  “I thought the craft to make things like this was lost,” he rambled.

  I cut his line of reasoning off there. “I’m not inclined to explain my history or abilities to you at the moment. Today you will be doing the explaining. The necklace will restrict your ability to sense or manipulate energy. Given enough time you might be able to break the barrier it creates around your mind, but if you do so it will be the last thing you do.”

  Walter stared at me with silent eyes. For a moment I had an odd sensation, this isn’t the first time he has been given a deadly ultimatum. I ignored the thought and continued, “If you break the enchantment by force, magical or physical, it will kill you. If you escape, I will break the enchantment, and it will kill you. If you attempt to unclasp the necklace, it will kill you. If you catch the chain on something by accident and it is broken, it will kill you.”

  Walter closed his eyes in resignation. “I probably shouldn’t ask, but is there any way to remove the necklace without triggering this explosion?”

  I smiled, “Yes, actually there are two methods that I know. The best is for me to remove it without disturbing the enchantment. The other is for someone to sever your head at the neck, allowing the necklace to fall free without being damaged.”

  He brought his hand up to grasp the silver chain. “You should have killed me,” he said solemnly. There was a look of ineffable sadness in his eyes. “I’m half tempted to finish myself now.”

  I had to work hard to keep my face smooth. “That’s your choice,” I said, concealing my worry. “Until you decide to do that… who paid you to kidnap my wife and mother?”

  “No one,” he replied. “I wasn’t paid. It was by order of King Edward… or so his agents told me.”

  I had expected as much, though I had thought it would take longer to get the answer. “Even the King pays his servants. Surely you didn’t spend weeks skulking about my castle watching me and preparing for nothing but the glory of serving your monarch,” there was a bitter tone to my words.

  “He has my wife and children.”

  I went still and our eyes locked for a long moment. I had sensed no deception in his reply, but his answer made me suspicious nonetheless. The only explanation he could give that might deflect some of the blame was that he was acting under duress, and I couldn’t be certain he didn’t know some method for hiding his falsehoods. He had already shown that he knew certain types of magic I was otherwise ignorant of. Finally I spoke, “That’s an easy answer for you to make.”

  He didn’t waver, “I have no other.”

  I decided to leave that issue aside for later. “How long were you observing us here?”

  “Almost two months,” he answered promptly.

  “What were your orders, in specific?” I asked.

  Walter hesitated, “If the King discovers I’ve been taken prisoner, and talked to you… he’ll kill one of my children, or something worse.”

  I leaned in to stare into his eyes, “My wife and unborn child have joined the ranks of the living dead thanks to your efforts. Eventually I’ll have to find her and render her corpse to ash to give her peace. I’m having some difficulty feeling much sympathy for you.”

  His eyes widened, “The shiggreth?”

  It hadn’t occurred to me that he wouldn’t have known what happened to his party after he was captured. “They were ambushed by th
em in the forest, just a few miles from Lancaster. None of them escaped alive.”

  Walter’s face registered genuine shock, “I had no idea.”

  For some reason his chagrin reminded me of the night that I had slain the night watchman guarding the royal warehouses. Of course I hadn’t been kidnapping anyone, but a number of people had died that night, starting with Jonathan Tucker and eventually culminating with my father. “That’s what happens when you roll the dice and take risks with other people’s lives Walter, some of them get hurt,” I said bitterly.

  “You didn’t mention your mother,” he said suddenly. “What happened to Miriam?”

  Hearing a complete stranger use her name like that was a bit of a surprise, until I remembered that he had been observing us closely for two months. Ask him who healed Miriam; his answer should help you understand, Penny’s words ran through my head. “You healed her didn’t you?”

  He looked down for a moment, “Yes I did. Ruth… that’s the mercenary who was in charge of our group, Ruth stabbed her.”

  “Why did you bother?”

  “I never wanted to do any of this. Miriam was a gentle soul, I didn’t want to see her hurt, or anyone else in your family for that matter,” he said softly.

  That was when I felt my first pang of empathy for the man. “What are your children’s names?” I asked on a sudden whim.

  “Elaine, my daughter, is the oldest. She will be sixteen this year. My boy, George, just turned eleven last month.”

  The name George rang a bell in my mind and I remembered my father’s letters. “George… is he named after your father?”

  Walter looked up, “No, George was my older brother.”

  That surprised me; I had assumed that the George Prathion my father had known was this man’s father. I made a mental note of the fact before continuing, “How long has it been since you saw your children Walter?”

  “Four years.”

  I stood up. “I still don’t know if I believe you Walter. But if you’re telling the truth I’ll do my damnedest to make sure they’re safe again.”