03- A Sip of Magic

by Guy Antibes

  “How did you find that out?”

  Pol smiled and didn’t tell her. “I discovered that you were the last. Do you know about Tesnan mind-control?”

  Shro looked puzzled. “What is that?”

  Pol told her about his experiences with mind-control and the Abbot’s use of it in the midnight meetings, as well as his suspicions about coercive magic and memory erasure. He didn’t tell her that he might have the ability to resist the mind-control spell.

  “Do you perceive patterns in your magic?”

  She nodded. “As do you,” Shro said.

  “The Tesnans call patterns ‘order’. Instead of tweaks, Tesnan call their magic ‘re-ordering’.”

  “We speak a different language in Shinkya, but I am familiar with the Baccusol terminology. I haven’t heard of order magic—”

  “Since there isn’t any. It’s pattern magic with a different name. I think their concept limits their thinking.”

  Shro looked at Pol for a while. “You’re well-versed for a boy years younger than me.”

  “As I grew up, I spent a lot of time in the classroom. I lived in a hostile situation in my father’s castle, and learning was my refuge.”

  Shro snorted in an unladylike fashion. “We have the same royal disease in Shinkya. I am thankful my mother was a simple merchant.”

  “Do you have monasteries?” Pol asked.

  “No. We have the Academy. There are branches of the Academy throughout Shinkya. I attended the one in our capital after I showed my abilities. That is where I heard of Nagoya’s trip north. He is backed by a powerful faction, but not mine. Shinkya is full of factions, plots, and subterfuge.”

  Pol yawned. “Let me teach you how to shield your mind before I go to sleep. I’ve had a hard day. Acolytes are Tesna’s servants, and the monks keep their servants busy.”

  Shro quickly caught on to the concept of mind-control. It took some practicing, but she said she had mastered the shield. Pol asked if he could tweak her with a light spell of mind-control.

  “Now touch your toes,” Pol said.

  Shro bent over and touched her toes. Pol was disappointed his instructions on the shield didn’t work, but then she broke into laughter. “Fooled you. I felt your spell press into the ‘order net’ as you said Tesnans call it, and I was able to resist. Will there be one of those night meetings tonight?”

  Pol nodded. “Likely. They are every few days, but the frequency varies. We had one three nights ago.”

  “Then go to sleep. I will reflect on your instructions. I must admit I am impressed,” she said. “You picked all this up from a book?”

  “I’m a quick study.” Pol yawned again. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”

  “I don’t know about me, but you certainly are.” Now she yawned. “I have traveled far today.” She blew out the two candles lighting up the room.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER TEN

  ~

  POL STRUGGLED TO RISE AT THE CALL for the midnight assembly. Shro snored, which made Pol smile. He pushed her. Whoever woke him up had left the door open and acolytes still were passing by the door.

  “Wake up. It’s the assembly.”

  She sat straight up and rubbed her eyes. “Let’s go, then. Net?”

  Pol guessed she meant the mental shield that he had taught her. He nodded and set one in place for himself.

  The pair of them sat in the back, shivering. It was a cool night in the mountains, and fall was rubbing out the vestiges of summer’s lingering warm weather. Pol smiled. He wondered if there were any other spies at Tesna. He looked over at Shro, who looked around absorbing it all.

  The Abbot entered the room wearing the elegant white robe. Pol knew he wore a gold-trimmed black one during the day. The crowd hushed as he raised his hands. Pol felt the pressure on his shield, but he could tell it held, not that he needed protection.

  “Tomorrow we will change our activities in the monastery. The last acolyte of this year’s class has arrived today, so we can shut the gates and begin to show the great god Tesna how we can become literal soldiers of our faith in changing the world.”

  Pol scoffed at the Abbot’s boast, but he listened intently.

  “You begin warrior training tomorrow. You will fight for the glory of Tesna.” Abbot Festor raised his hands and the monks and acolytes repeated his words ‘glory of Tesna’. “We will join our army in two weeks, so train hard. You will train hard?”

  “Yes.” All the attendees answered in unison.

  “You will give your minds, magic, and lives to Tesna?”

  “Yes.”

  “You will tell no one of our activities?”

  “No.”

  The Abbot smiled.

  “Acolytes will receive their instructions from Monk Castall. The Acolytes are dismissed. I have further words for the monks.”

  The acolytes rose as one. Pol and Shro scrambled to their feet and followed their compatriots out the door. When the pair reached their room, they closed the door, but neither lay down. Shro produced a magician’s light.

  “That was interesting,” Shro said. “Scary, too.”

  Pol shook his head. “He means what he says. Did you feel the pressure of the spell?”

  Shro nodded. “I did. I would have been there right with them if you hadn’t shared your shield. I had no idea they were this close to marching. We thought there might be something happening in the spring.”

  Pol’s friend Val didn’t. The Seeker knew something was up. Pol nearly shared his link with Demeron to Shro, but thought he needed to exercise a bit more discretion. Shinkya might still be an enemy, for all Pol knew, since he didn’t have any real understanding of their culture.

  “Do you have any military skills?” Pol asked.

  “A few. I am best with a bow and arrow, but I can swing a sword well enough to defend myself for a few minutes.”

  “I am what we call a pattern-master.”

  “You? There are only a few of us who can boast the ability to use magic in an actual swordfight.”

  Pol shrugged. “Being a pattern-master doesn’t mean I’m the best swordsman around. It only means I can think quickly enough to anticipate the pattern of my opponents’ moves and swing a blade a bit faster than others.” He thought of Regent Tomio, who certainly could have defeated Pol. Even Darrol and Regent’s sword master could give Pol a good fight.

  “So you won’t be demonstrating your skills?”

  Pol shook his head. “I’m not supposed to know very much magic. Neither are you. The monks like to keep us ignorant for as long as possible so we can perform all of the menial tasks that need to be done around the monastery.”

  “What else can you do?” Shro said.

  “I can throw knives.”

  Shro giggled. It startled Pol to see such a thing from the male image until he thought of Nater’s laughter. “I never could get the hang of using knives.”

  Pol didn’t think she was telling the truth. Knives were weapons that didn’t require as much strength, but he had no reason to challenge her. They were still careful exchanging knowledge with each other and that might continue until they had to leave Tesna and go their separate ways.

  Shro extinguished the light. Pol reclined on his bed and looked up at utter darkness at the ceiling. He used his locator senses to perceive the room. Shro made sounds of snoring. They seemed natural enough to Pol.

  He didn’t quite know how to place Shro into his pattern. Pol couldn’t look at her as the male version of herself or as the fleeting vision he had when she revealed her true identity. He took a deep breath and realized he might never put Shro into a proper place in his mind.

  ~

  Pol could hear Castall and another monk calling the acolytes into the main courtyard. No one stood in formation. Pol had to remind himself that Tesna wasn’t a military order, so they all just milled about until monks began to arrive in the courtyard. The monks stood at the side carrying weapons and waiting for the acolytes to leave.


  “Follow me,” Castall said. The acolytes obediently trailed behind the monk through the courtyard and into a large field just outside the monastery walls. Pol hadn’t even known the field existed until they stepped onto the newly-cleared area.

  He could sense disrupted patterns on the ground. So the monks had recently cleared the field by re-ordering or tweaking, as Pol still thought of it.

  “Line up as best you can,” Castall said. “In lines of fifteen.”

  Pol stood in the back along with Shro, and they just stayed where they were, letting the last row form around them.

  “Has anyone had any kind of sword training?”

  Pol raised his hand, wondering what would happen, but he was surprised that well over half the acolytes had held a blade in their hands. “Noble children are trained,” he said to himself.

  A guard wheeled in a cart filled with wooden swords bearing blunted tips.

  “Take one and split into groups of ten. I’ll choose leaders for each group.”

  After an extended period of confusion, the groups finally formed. Shro had stuck by Pol’s side. Pol’s leader was the acolyte who had originally led him on in the assignment room, just before he was assaulted with eggs. Today’s change in routine had evidently spared Shro from a similar experience.

  “I am Menkin,” the leader said. “I noticed that most of you raised your hands.” He looked at Pol and pointed to him with his sword. “I know you did. Let’s spar and show these cretins how it is done.”

  Menkin’s request revealed more of his true personality, Pol thought. He didn’t feel like dissembling to the rude acolyte.

  “Raise your sword, first year,” Menkin said.

  Pol did. After slapping Pol’s sword, Menkin sunk into a crouch. Pol shrugged and stepped away from Menkin.

  “Scared?” Menkin grinned like a bully.

  Pol looked his opponent in the eye. “No, but I’d like to stretch for a bit before we start.” Pol went through a few forms, keeping an eye on Menkin. After three forms, Pol sensed that Menkin was going to attack. He used a sip of magic and hit the edge of his sword against Menkin’s knee. The youth went down, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

  “You hit my funny bone!” Menkin’s face showed the single track of a tear down his face. He jumped to his feet and hobbled around for a bit. “Luck.”

  Pol just said, “Whatever.”

  That incensed Menkin, who attacked. Pol used a sip of magic to slip away. He heard Shro laugh behind him.

  “You’re fast,” Menkin said.

  Pol nodded. “I am.” He put out his hand. “We are on the same team. I didn’t mean any offense or injury.” Nater would never do that. He’d be the one doing the rushing, but Pol didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself, since Castall was strolling past. “Why don’t you show us how to use these things?” Pol looked at his sword as if he had never seen one before.

  Menkin scowled, but did as Pol said. Soon they were all working through a simple form.

  After an hour of work, most of the acolytes could barely hold up their swords. Castall called an end to the training. “Return to the field half an hour after lunch for another session. Take the rest of the morning to rest up.”

  The acolytes dragged off the field, depositing their blades in the cart. Pol stayed behind with Shro, ostensibly showing her an additional element of the form they had been learning.

  “You are very adept with your magic. I wouldn’t have noticed had you not told me you are a pattern-master. I’ve never seen such small spurts of magic,” Shro said. “You have mastered control.”

  Pol just laughed. “Not really. I’m better than I was, and I only picked up sipping magic last summer.”

  Pol

  What is it? Pol thought.

  That is a Shinkyan you are talking to, Demeron said.

  I have eyes that can see. She is here in disguise just as I am.

  She?

  Pol nodded. Listen carefully; I don’t have any more time. I’ve confirmed that the monks have raised a large army and will likely be attacking North Salvan. I’m not certain, but that makes the most sense. Can you get that information to Val?

  I will do what I can. Perhaps I can bring him to this field tomorrow.

  Please do. I miss you, horse.

  As do I you. Val and Darrol are silent in my mind and I’d rather converse with you.

  Their conversation ended.

  “What were you doing? You sort of went silent on me,” Shro said.

  “I communicated with Demeron.”

  “Your horse?” Shro swung her sword in the precise pattern that Pol had shown her. She had too much control for a novice swordsman.

  “It’s my only way of communicating while I’m in the monastery.”

  Shro nodded, and then smiled. “I’ve heard of such bonds before.” A funny look came and went from her face. “I envy that ability.”

  “Let’s get back and see what assignments we’ve been given for the rest of the morning. I don’t believe that Castell’s promise of rest is real.”

  ~

  Pol looked anxiously towards the forest edging the practice field. He couldn’t locate anyone stalking in the trees, but that didn’t mean Val wasn’t there. It wouldn’t surprise Pol to learn that Val could defeat any location spell.

  “What are you doing?” Shro said.

  “Looking for friends,” he said and turned back to practicing the two new forms that Menkin had taught his team.

  Shro knew the forms as well as did Pol, so they went through the motions. Pol sensed a very faint approaching dot of color in the woods. He faked twisting his ankle.

  “I hurt myself,” Pol said raising his hand. “It will be okay if I can sit for a little bit.”

  He hobbled towards the forest and sat against a tree, massaging his imaginary injury.

  Pol heard a voice. “What do you have to report? Demeron’s communication skills aren’t particularly accurate.”

  “But he got you here.”

  “That he did.” Val’s response wasn’t negative. “It took awhile to get that part of your message out of him.”

  Pol looked out at the acolytes and lowered his head to his ankle to cover the movement of his mouth and gave Val a detailed rendition of his time at the monastery.

  “Do you trust the Shinkyan?”

  Pol hadn’t told Val that Shro was a woman. “Enough for now. We are both withholding a bit from each other, but we have the same goal of finding out what’s going on. Of that I am certain. My roommate is concerned about an invasion of her country.”

  “Hazett wouldn’t stand for South Salvan to invade Shinkya. I am sure he would feel it necessary to fight with the Shinkyans,” Val said. That was a different perspective that surprised Pol.

  He went silent as Castell approached. The monk knelt down and felt Pol’s ankle. Pol winced a bit. “You should get back up and continue. If you just sit, your ankle will swell up and get worse.”

  “In another minute,” Pol said.

  “Don’t waste much more time,” Castell said and went back to observing one of the other groups.

  “I have enough information for now. I’ll ride Demeron here every other afternoon at the beginning of the second hour after noon. Let him know if we need to talk.”

  “I’m pretty sure we’ll be doing this for a few weeks, and then we can return to Deftnis.”

  “I’m gone,” Val said. “Rejoin your group.”

  Pol struggled to get up and walked around, ostensibly working out the pain and joined Shro.

  She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You talked to your contact?”

  Pol nodded. “He knows nearly as much as I do.” Pol suddenly scowled.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I forgot to tell him about the mind-control shield.”

  Shro smiled. “He doesn’t need to know right now, but you certainly do.”

  ~~~

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ~
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  NOTHING HAPPENED FOR A WEEK. Demeron would ask if there were any new developments, and Pol would shake his head so Val could see his answer.

  The acolytes had improved to the point that they had learned the rudiments of handling a sword that a common man drafted into the North Salvan army might have.The better swordsmen didn’t learn anything new, so the overall capability of the acolytes improved little with all of the training.

  Pol could tell that the Abbot’s nightly meetings worked to keep them focused on improving. He heard less complaining than he had about the menial tasks they still had to complete, although the monks let more time go between tasks.

  It was after midnight when he woke, noticing Shro sneak out of their room. Pol followed her after making himself invisible. She pulled something round from her robe along with a contraption of some kind. Pol tweaked the pattern to improve the light his eyes saw and recognized it as a slingshot. She put a round ball-shaped object, probably with a message wadded up inside, in the web and launched it over the monastery wall.

  He rushed back towards the barracks and was back in his bed before Shro stole back into their room.

  “You saw what I did?” she asked in the darkness. “I know you’re awake. Admit it.” He heard her giggle.

  “How?” Pol asked.

  “Your breathing is faster than when you sleep.”

  Pol considered that and realized that Shro was right. “I did. I wondered how you were communicating with your people.”

  He heard a soft laugh.

  “I don’t have a talking horse. What have you communicated so far?”

  That might be a revealing question. “Nothing other than what we have discussed. There hasn’t been anything to add.”

  “I’m sure my people are both assured and alarmed at the same time, just as yours are.”

  The conversation died with her last comment. Pol tried to slow his breathing and he noticed Shro giggling in the dark.

  “What?” he said.

  “Your breathing still isn’t natural. Perhaps that is something you should practice.”

  Pol pursed his lips and tried to tamp down his temper. He turned to the wall, facing away from the Shinkyan. Who listened to how people breathed? Probably Val. That made Pol a bit more upset.