by Guy Antibes
“And removing compulsion?” Shro said.
Horker looked timid, maybe fearful. “It involves pulling the compulsion out. It’s not too bad for a non-magician, but for one with talent, there are barriers and the solution isn’t always successful.”
“Is the person still under compulsion?”
“Anything can happen. I don’t know how strong Menkin is. As young as he is, there probably hasn’t been too much training.”
“I’ll see what I can see,” Pol said. He took a drink of his cooling cider and a bite of the meat.
Pol closed his eyes and put his hand on Menkin’s head. He didn’t see anything. He opened his eyes again. “I’m not doing this right.” Thinking back to what he’d been taught, the dots on the board came to mind. He wasn’t relaxed enough to let his mind perceive what was there.
“I’ll do it again,” he said, and then took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and relaxed. He located Horker, Shro and Menkin in the room and then focused on Menkin. He kept his mind open and noticed a film over Menkin’s brain. “I see a film.”
“You do?” Horker said.
Pol looked around at the brain and saw a brighter spot. In his mind it looked like a deep, deep purple patch. He could barely detect it.
He opened his eyes. “Okay. I’ve found the film that I mentioned and a patch that might be compulsion. I’m sorry, but I am far from what I know for sure.”
Back into Menkin’s brain, Pol could see the film better. He tweaked the film away, leaving the brain intact. He heard Horker’s breath close to his left ear, so he tried to picture Horker’s mind. Pol didn’t say anything, but he found a thicker film, if he could call it that, overlaying Horker’s brain. There was no patch of purple.
Without asking, he removed Horker’s film. It wasn’t much of a challenge for Pol.
“What have you done?” Horker sat on the bed, with his head in his hands. “I can hardly sit up.”
“Quiet, sir,” Pol said. “I’m going for the compulsion,” He concentrated on the compulsion in Menkin’s brain and saw tendrils leading down from the patch disappearing in the crevices. Pol hesitated for a moment and pictured compulsion as a weed and the tendrils as the root of the plant. He had pulled enough weeds as a result of his training to know how to coax the roots out of the ground. He tweaked the patch of compulsion in the very same way.
He could feel resistance in his head. Pol had never had such a thing described to him, so he didn’t know if he made progress or not until the patch pulled away with the tendrils hanging from the bottom. It fragmented into mist and then dissipated.
Menkin moaned, although he was still frozen.
“I’ve done what I can.” Pol stepped back, spent from his work, and drained a tankard of cider.
“That’s my mug,” Shro said.
Pol colored. “Sorry. You can release him.”
She casually waved her hand. Pol would have to learn how to do that.
“Why didn’t you freeze someone when we fought the thugs?” Pol said.
“I need to be calm, or I can’t work the pattern.” She shrugged.
Menkin swayed on his feet. Pol held him steady. Menkin looked at Pol, but stiffened up when he saw Horker. “Captain!” he said. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself.”
Pol breathed a sigh of relief. Menkin didn’t bite off his tongue.
“Who told you to go through our belongings?” Horker said.
“Who?” Menkin shook his head. “I don’t know. I was at the camp, going to sleep early. There’s not much to do right now. I woke up and felt I needed to come here and find anything incriminating.” He looked at the books on Pol’s bed, and then he looked at Pol.
“Those are mine. Pol is carrying them for me,” Horker said.
Pol and Shro turned astonished eyes in his direction.
“To whom were you going to give your evidence?”
Menkin thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I was to return to my tent.”
Pol nodded. “Then the person who put him under compulsion would retrieve them somewhere along the way.” Pol reached down into his boot and gave a conventional throwing knife to Menkin. “Take this and say you found it in my things. I have plenty. If you don’t have anything, who knows what they will do to you?”
“I have to go back?”
Horker stood up. “Indeed you have to, Guardian. There is something amiss in Covial, but all you have to do is return to your tent. Don’t tell them you’ve been caught, and do whatever they tell you, except to take your own life.”
“Someone will really kill me?” Menkin looked at all three of them with panicked eyes.
“Not if you follow the instructions I just gave you.”
Menkin tucked the knife into his boot. He gave Pol a nervous smile. “I always wanted to do that.” Menkin nodded to Shro. “I’ll be on my way, then.”
Horker patted Menkin on the shoulder. “We’ll be talking to you again after our job at Covial Castle is completed.”
Menkin left Pol’s room. Horker put his head out the door to make sure Menkin headed in the right direction. He shut it and turned on Pol.
“What did you do to me?”
“I removed a film of mind-control. It was much thicker than Menkin’s” Pol said.
“A film?” Shro said.
“I think magicians may see the pattern differently from each other. The Captain might see it as a net. That’s too abstract for me, I guess. I saw a silvery-gray film. The compulsion was like a weed on the brain and much, much harder to remove.”
“How powerful are you?” Horker said.
“At Deftnis, I rated a gray robe, if you know what that means.”
“If I remember correctly, that’s one level down from the highest.”
Pol waved his comment away. “I’m very inexperienced. I didn’t know about compulsion or mind-control or Shro’s freeze spell. I’m just sort of making it up as I go.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Shro said. “You don’t make things up. You are creating solutions. That’s a different technique than blindly experimenting.”
“It doesn’t matter. Menkin was a test, and I suppose I passed. The thing is, he was definitely compelled, but we didn’t learn anything other than whoever hired the thugs and Menkin knows that Captain Horker is in charge of the monks…”
“And that doesn’t help us at all. Does it, Pol?”
“No. I can see Onkar using the thugs and Menkin if he doesn’t want the castle to know he’s meddling, but I can’t see a motive for him,” Pol said. “Manda has the resources of the castle behind him. If wanted us dead, he could just do it while we slept.”
“He still can,” Shro said.
Her comment brought a shiver down Pol’s spine. He really wished Val was peering over his back, advising him as he went, but that was fantasy. “I can manipulate the locks,” Pol said.
Horker gave them a weak smile. “I can’t. Most magicians that can compel, and I can’t, can break a lock.”
Pol shook his head. “I can secure the door to the frame in a different way,” Pol said. He would just join the door to the frame. He’d done something similar enough before, repairing the merchant’s tent pole.
Shro narrowed her eyes. “I’ve seen you do that before.”
Pol nodded. “Today.”
Horker looked at the both of them with uncomprehending eyes. “So, where does that leave me?”
Shro furrowed her brow. “You?”
“I removed the Abbot’s years of mind-control from you.” Pol turned to Horker. “How do you feel about the wonderful great god Tesna?”
Horker raised his eyebrows. “Like I always…” He rubbed his hands over the stubble on his head. “I don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Pol said.
“I don’t feel the same way. I don’t know what I feel, but,” he looked at Pol, “what have I become?”
“You are free to think the way you want,” Pol said. “Don’t change the way you beh
ave, or you’ll be caught out.”
“You’re not a resister?” Horker said.
“I am, as it turns out. I found the mind-control book before Shro came and taught the proper shield to him,” Pol said.
Shro nodded. “You do know about the shield?”
“I’ve never used it on myself, but I know the technique. Are you really Nater?”
Pol shook his head. “No. I’m an Imperial spy, and Shro is a Shinkyan one. The Emperor, and I suppose the Queen of Shinkya, heard something happening at Tesna and engineered our acceptances. I’m not an assassin, if that’s what you mean.”
“You could fool me with the way you can throw those knives around. I saw the knife appear through the attacker who was about to kill me. That’s about the time I fainted.”
“I was taught by a man who probably had killed for the Emperor before. I’ll admit to that,” Pol said. He noticed that Shro had remained silent.
“Are you going to kill me?” Horker asked.
“Of course not. Why would I have worn myself out trying to heal you? I could try mind-control on you, but I have a better idea,” Pol said. “Join us. Do you really believe in Tesna dominating the world with an army of compelled soldiers? Is that a proper use of order?”
Horker looked away for a minute, thinking. “I admit, now that I have my full faculties, it is doomed to failure.”
“I don’t know about that,” Pol said, “but it isn’t moral at all. It is a misuse of order and a misuse of power. It’s a lot harder to rule a kingdom than a bunch of mind-controlled monks. Hazett III may look foolish to some, but I think his father trained him well for his role. He has his pet projects and his periodic processions, but he snaps into a pragmatic frame of mind when it’s needed.”
“Have you met the Emperor? You seem to know him.”
Pol nodded. “I met him during the summer a year ago. He knows my real name,” Pol grinned. “You’ve guessed where I was trained. Deftnis would welcome you, if you choose to continue the monastic life.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you don’t. Freedom is a wonderful thing. I just wish everybody had it.”
Horker turned to Shro. “And what about you?”
She snorted. “I’m not going to Deftnis, but I’m interested in what Pol’s going to do next.”
Pol restrained a smile. She was a spy like him, and if she saw Pol as someone important, then she would stay with him. Pol scoffed at the notion of importance. He wondered how Horker would react when she shed her disguise.
“What is your plan?” Horker said. It looked like he had made the right decision, but Pol wouldn’t rely on a change of mind until circumstances tested Horker.
“It hasn’t changed, but we need to stay alive, for one. I’ll talk to Kelso Beastwell in the morning. We should find out who’s behind the thugs and Menkin before we leave. At the right time, we will slip away from the army and head for Borstall, but that would be easier once the army is on the march north. They need to be warned.” Pol still held out hope that Darrol and Val were on their way to Yastan to warn the Emperor.
~~~
CHAPTER NINETEEN
~
KELSO BEASTWELL LOOKED RAGGED. He had certainly been beaten, but not recently. Pol wanted to reveal himself to his stepfather’s Captain of the Guard, but that would likely be counterproductive. Horker knew Pol was a spy, but he still didn’t know Pol’s identity other than he had been at Deftnis.
“What do you two want?” Kelso said. “It’s barely daybreak.”
Pol could hear that his voice matched his looks.
“We represent an independent party investigating the death of Lord Gartor.”
“Tesna monks, by the looks of you,” Kelso said.
“This is Nater Grainell. You’ve met him before,” Horker said.
“I’m wearing a disguise, and I didn’t use the same name,” Pol said. He looked at Horker whose eyebrows went up even though he had suspected that Pol wasn’t really Nater. “I have met you before. You can ask me any questions about Borstall Castle, and I’ll be happy to answer them.”
Kelso still looked at both of them suspiciously.
Pol wanted to touch Kelso’s skull, so he put him to sleep.
“What have you done?” Horker looked at Kelso and then at Pol with concern.
“I need to put my hands on his head. It’s much easier to have him asleep, believe me.”
Horker raised his hands and dropped them. “Go on.”
When Pol felt Kelso’s head, he realized the man still suffered from a concussion caused by multiple injuries. Pol fixed those first, letting the swelling be carried away by slightly dilated blood vessels. Searl had taught him the same method for treating bad headaches.
He waited for the inside swelling to decrease and then relaxed as he looked for mind-control. He found that, but no compulsion. That made sense since Kelso had acted like Pol thought he would.
Pol wondered what the real process looked like. He didn’t for once think he physically removed anything. He found a light layer of mind-control, which was easily removed. The process wasn’t as difficult as Menkin’s. He barely felt taxed after taking care of Kelso.
“You may wake up, Kelso.” Pol said the words for Horker’s benefit.
“My head doesn’t ache. What did you do?”
Pol smiled at Kelso. “I have a few healer skills. Your mind was tampered with.”
“It was?” Kelso looked around the cell as he considered Pol’s words. “It was.” He nodded.
“Why were you in Covial?” Pol asked.
“I came to see what was going on in South Salvan before King Colvin appointed a new ambassador.”
“King Colvin waited this long to discharge you from being Captain of the Guard?”
Kelso looked at Pol. “What’s this about a discharge?”
“I heard about the disinherited prince. He had to leave quickly and thought you might be caught for aiding his escape.”
“You know Poldon?”
Pol had to nod. “I am familiar with the story.”
“The King covered up my involvement. He regretted treating Poldon’s mother so shabbily after Bythia and Landon left for Listya.”
“Bythia’s dead.”
“You do get around. Word came to the castle a couple of months ago. Landon seems to be doing fine after her loss.”
Pol withheld telling Kelso about his involvement, since he didn’t know what had become common knowledge.
“You came to Covial to spy?” Pol said.
“I…” Kelso took a deep breath. “I was told to keep my eyes open, of course. I’ll admit I was exposed befriending Queen Isa, but there was never anything between us. She’s a cousin, but not by blood. I didn’t kill the lord. If you know me, I’m a more honorable man than that.”
Pol walked around the dark cell for a moment. “How did they catch you?”
“They framed me.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“I was talking to the Captain of King Astor’s guard when Manda’s men came for me.”
“So Manda framed you?”
Kelso shook his head. “I don’t think so. He interrogated me, much the same as you are doing.”
“When did you confess?” Pol said. Manda had never quite said Kelso confessed, but Pol needed something more than a vague accusation.
“I was going to,” Kelso said. “Funny, I don’t need to anymore. I felt that I had to tell you that I killed Lord Gartor, who was quite the lady’s man, I was told.”
Horker asked a question. “When did you feel that you had to confess?”
“Yesterday sometime.” Kelso shook his head. “I don’t remember. I woke up from a nap.” He looked at Horker, “There’s not much else to do in this cell.”
“Go on,” Pol said.
Kelso stoked his beard. “I seem to remember someone in the cell with me. He might have told me that I needed to confess to the crime to the Tesnan monk. Is that you?” Kelso
looked at Horker.
Pol thought for a moment. “So it would look like we used a truth spell on you? I remember you using Malden Gastoria to administer a truth spell.”
“You know about that?”
“Poldon said something about it.”
“It’s true, then. You really do know Poldon. How is the lad doing?”
“Much better, now that he’s been at Deftnis. The healers have done wonders for him.”
Kelso sat back against the wall. “I’m glad for that. The boy deserved much more than he got at Borstall. That’s for sure.”
“You said something about a truth spell being used on you?” Pol said. It was hard to be so distant with his erstwhile friend and mentor.
“Oh, right. I suppose it would look like that to someone. Once a person is broken with a truth spell, they generally don’t go back on their word. They’d only get a worse punishment if those in charge had to use another truth spell.” Kelso shivered. “I always hated having someone administer one.”
“You are going to hate it more when I tell you that the tampering in your mind was a mind-control spell. Whoever administered it would probably use it again at some point. A truth spell that lasts as long as the interrogation, but mind-control stays with you until it’s removed.”
“Why me? Why now?”
Pol shook his head. “I don’t know, and it looks like you don’t, as well. With your permission I’m going to place two shields on your mind to prevent mind-control or a compulsion spell. I don’t know how long they will last or if anyone in the castle can beat the shield.”
“Go ahead. I don’t think I was headed for a happy ending.”
~
Horker leaned over towards Pol at a late breakfast. The food tasted good, and Pol was hungry. Kelso’s mind was easier to work with than Menkin’s, and Pol decided that his first impression was right. Magicians needed more powerful compulsion spells than commoners.
“I’m certainly seeing an uglier side to magic,” Pol said. “I knew there were magicians who weren’t particularly nice people, but it’s one thing to spout nonsense in the middle of a monastery and another to treat others so badly.”