The Ambivalent Magician

by Simon Hawke

  Anyway, where were we? Oh, right, we were in the process of pulling together the various elements of what we laughingly refer to as "the plot" of this story. Don't worry, we'll get there, I promise. Remember, always trust your narrator.

  And speaking of promises, I know I said we'd check back in with Warrick and see how he was getting on in modem London. Heh, heh, heh. Not too well, it seems. When last we left the royal wizard, he was making the unpleasant discovery that magic didn't work in our world and getting pasted in the jaw by Colin Hightower. Well, since then, as predicted, he regained consciousness and was discovered in Brewster's lab by Dr. Davies, the EnGulfCo executive vice-president of R and D, and a detachment of security. They handcuffed him and took him into custody and subjected him to a rigorous interrogation, which resulted in Dr. Davies placing a call to the EnGulfCo CEO.

  Of course, it was illegal for them to detain him like that without calling the police, but since Warrick didn't know enough to demand to see a lawyer-or barrister, as they call them in England-they just went ahead and did it anyway. Even if he had demanded to see an attorney, they probably would have disregarded him in any case, because they were not about to go public with any of this stuff. There was just too much at stake. And we all know what happens when an individual tries to take on a huge multinational corporation. Can you say, "Bambi meets Godzilla"?

  For twenty-four hours, Warrick was kept in a holding room in the security wing at EnGulfCo corporate headquarters. He was questioned by Dr. Davies, then hooked up to a polygraph machine and questioned once again, and finally he was brought to the opulent private office of the EnGulfCo CEO.

  "Leave us," he said to the security guards as they sat Warrick in a comfortable leather and brass-studded chair opposite the massive mahogany desk. The security guards left, leaving Warrick alone with the CEO and Dr. Davies.

  "Well, Mr. Warrick, is it? You've posed us quite a pretty problem." The CEO glanced down at the report lying on his desk. "No doubt, you are wondering just what it is that's happened to you, and where you are. At the moment, you are in the office of the chairman of the board of EnGulfCo International. That's me. I am a very busy man. A very wealthy and powerful man, as I imagine you were where you came from, wherever that may be. I've read the report of your questioning, you see, and you have the look of someone accustomed to authority. Well, I am in authority here. I have only to say the word "Jump," and heads of state ask, 'How high?' Would you care for some wine?"

  "Thank you, I would," said Warrick.

  The CEO merely nodded to Dr. Davies, who went over to the sideboard and poured them both some sherry.

  "You had come into possession of something that belonged to us," said the CEO.

  "The time machine," said Warrick.

  "Precisely. You understand what it is?"

  "A device for traveling through the ethereal planes," said Warrick.

  The CEO smiled. "I suppose that could be one way of putting it," he said. "The man who built it, Dr. Marvin Brewster, whom you apparently know as 'Brewster Doc,' works for me."

  "I see," said Warrick. "He is your court wizard."

  The CEO smiled again and took a sip of sherry. "In a manner of speaking. The woman you saw up in the lab was Dr. Pamela Fairburn. She is engaged to Dr. Brewster and is, uh, something of a wizard in her own right. At my direction, she had attempted to duplicate the machine that Dr. Brewster built, but unfortunately, it does not work. We lack some of the key components, and it seems the notes Dr. Brewster left behind were not entirely complete. What that means is the only working model of Dr. Brewster's time machine is the one in which you had arrived here, and which Dr. Fairburn apparently took back to wherever it is you came from, along with those two other individuals, one of whom it seems you know. The other one, the man who struck you, has since been identified. He is a rather unscrupulous reporter with a distinctly unsavory reputation."

  "I am not surprised," said Warrick wryly.

  "You appear to be a good judge of character," said the CEO. "We may be able to help each other."

  "I was about to suggest the same thing," Warrick replied with a smile.

  "Excellent," said the CEO. "It is obvious that Dr. Fairburn went back to get Dr. Brewster. If she fails to return, then there is probably nothing we can do but keep working on the machine she duplicated and try to find a way to make it function. The odds of that, however, seem slim and none. If she succeeds, however, then a world of possibilities will open up to us. She has proven to be an extremely resourceful woman, and I have great confidence in her. Let us hope that she succeeds."

  "And if she does?" asked Warrick.

  "Then you and I will have a great deal to discuss," replied the CEO. "The situation could be of great profit to us both, if we were to work together."

  "Perhaps," said Warrick, "but first, there is something that I want."

  The CEO raised his eyebrows. "Really? And what would that be?"

  "I am seeking someone who calls himself 'the Narrator.' It was for that purpose that I came."

  Oh-oh. No, you don't.

  At that moment, the door to the CEO's office opened and the head of security came rushing in.

  "I thought I said that we were not to be disturbed," the CEO said, frowning.

  "Yes, sir, but I think you'd better have a look at this," the head of security said, moving to the window and opening the blinds. The CEO got up and looked. Outside, there was a crowd of people jamming the sidewalk and spilling out into the street, blocking traffic. Police were trying to break them up, apparently without success. More police cars were arriving as they watched, along with several vans.

  "What's going on down there?" the CEO asked. "Who are those people?"

  "They started arriving about half an hour ago," the security man said. "It seems like some sort of protest demonstration. Their numbers .have swelled dramatically in the last ten or fifteen minutes and a bunch of them have broken through into the lobby. We can't contain the situation and we've been forced to call in the police. And now we've reporters down there, too, along with several TV crews."

  "What do they want?" asked the CEO.

  The head of security glanced at Warrick. "They want him."

  The CEO turned to Warrick with a frown. "What do you know about this?"

  "They must be my test subjects," Warrick said.

  "Test subjects?" The CEO suddenly remembered the report and what Warrick had revealed during his questioning. "But how could they have known you were here?"

  "Before transporting them in the time machine, I had placed each of them under a spell of compulsion to find a way back to me and report where they had been and what they had seen," Warrick explained. He shrugged. "My spells are not effective here, but it seems the effects of the spells I cast in my own world linger on in this one. They must have been drawn to me by my arrival here."

  "Wonderful. And we've got the media down there," the CEO said. "Can you imagine what will happen if any of those people talk to them?"

  "Never fear, they will not speak with anyone about this before they have spoken with me first and fulfilled the conditions of the spell," said Warrick.

  "And then what?"

  "Then they will no longer feel the effects of the compulsion."

  "I see." The CEO turned to the head of security. "Let them in," he said.

  "Sir?"

  "You heard me. Let those people in. But the media stays out. And if they want to know what's going on, just tell them 'No comment.'" He turned back to Warrick. "Well, since this is your doing, I guess you'd better speak with them."

  "All of them?" said Warrick.

  "All of them," said the CEO.

  "But it could take days for them to tell me all that's happened to them since they have arrived here," Warrick protested.

  "I imagine it will probably take several weeks, at least," the CEO replied. "It makes no difference to me. I want this situation brought under control. Besides, it isn't as if you have anything better to do for
the present. Afterward, I'm sure I can come up with something useful for a man of your peculiar talents, but meanwhile, I want you to take care of this. You can use one of the offices downstairs." He turned back to the security man. "I want the names of all those people, and their addresses and telephone and social security numbers. I want us to be able to find each and every one of them again if we have to. Find accommodations for them and put them all on the payroll until Warrick's finished with them. Make sure they sign the standard contract and that they read and understand the security clause. Got it?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "It would appear as if I have unintentionally caused you a great deal of inconvenience," said Warrick. "Such was not my intention. I apologize."

  "Oh, you'll make it worth my while, Warrick, one way or another," said the CEO. "As of now, you work for me."

  Well, the plot thickens. Brewster and the others, whom we shall join in the next chapter, are frantically working to prepare for the upcoming invasion. Harlan's spies have reported that King Billy's army is on the move, and things are indeed hectic right now at the keep. The fortifications are almost complete, and the assembly lines are running at full tilt. Mac is busily trying to whip the newly recruited Army of Brigantium into shape with the assistance of the mercenaries he has hired; Rachel Drum, bearing Dwarfkabob, the enchanted Sword of the Shaman, has flown with Rory to the convocation of the elves to seek their help; and Harlan, having freshly returned from his mission to King Durwin, who has decided to sit this whole thing out and see what happens, has departed for a meeting with the dwarves to see if he can negotiate an alliance with them against Lord Kelvin's army. All in all, things have been pretty busy in the newly formed Kingdom of Brigantium.

  Meanwhile, Pamela and Megan are on their way to Brigand's Roost, escorted by six of Warrick's men-at-arms, while the rest of Warrick's guard remain behind with Captain Ivor, who is convinced that Warrick has sent the two demons to aid in the invasion. It has not occurred to him to wonder why two powerful demons from the ethereal plane would need an armed escort to travel to Brigantium, or why they would travel on horseback rather than fly or teleport themselves, or even why one of them would choose to assume the rather unusual form of a chamberpot. Ivor had long since learned not to question magical goings-on.

  Time after time, he and his men had dragged prisoners from the royal dungeons into Warrick's sanctorum and none of them ever came out again. So far as Ivor was concerned, what Warrick or any of his conjured demons chose to do was their business. He simply followed instructions, taking up watch on the time machine, which he was careful not to approach too closely. There were, to be sure, easier gigs to be had in Pittsburgh for skilled men-at-arms, but Warrick's minions were paid very well, even better than the palace guard, and they had generous benefits, such as free health care, a uniform and weapons allowance, free room and board and even a retirement plan. If that meant putting up with the occasional supernatural manifestation, Ivor figured it was worth it.

  And finally, Queen Sandy and Lord Aubrey are also galloping at full speed toward the town of Brigand's Roost in a desperate effort to stop the war before it gets started. Sandy did her best to reason with The Stealers Guild, but clearly they would have been unable to stop the revolution even if they wanted to, and the most Sandy could hope for was a minimal loss of life among her subjects. To be sure, the palace guard would be overrun, but she doubted they would put up much of a resistance once they realized how greatly the odds would be against them. Unlike Warrick's minions, they were poorly paid and had no benefits. Chances were they would simply cut and run, or even throw in with the forces of the revolution, and the palace would fall without much of a struggle.

  Sheriff Waylon and his deputies would be the ones who would be most hard-pressed. The people had no reason to despise the palace guard, but they had plenty of reasons to hate Sheriff Waylon and his men, who had comported themselves like thugs. Waylon would be the first to feel the mob's wrath, especially once they discovered that the king had gone into hiding. Unless Waylon was able to escape, he was probably going to have his neck stretched, and Sandy couldn't think of a more deserving candidate for such a fate. What worried her was Warrick.

  She had no idea what the Grand Director of the Sorcerers Guild was liable to do when the revolution started. She had no way of knowing that he would be sitting in a London office, drinking pots and pots of coffee while he conducted interminable interviews with his test subjects, who would regale him with long tales of what they had experienced and learned since he had transported them to our world.

  Okay, have we left anybody out? No, I don't think so. I think that just about covers it as this story approaches its dramatic climax. It's time we checked back in with Brewster, who is feeling very ambivalent about this whole thing. He had never thought, when he first arrived in Brigand's Roost, that his efforts to improve the lives of the town's residents would lead to such a crisis. He felt responsible, and he was determined to do everything he could to help them. To that end, he has been driving himself mercilessly, working around the clock to prepare for the coming battle. And if you think this story's been pretty weird so far, just wait 'til you see what happens next.

  Eleven

  Brewster was exhausted. For the past several weeks, he had averaged at best three or four hours sleep each night, and the last few days he had gone almost completely without sleep, just grabbing a quick nap here and there whenever he could. Mick had the weapons crews working in shifts around the clock and last minute construction was being completed on the fortifications. The keep had taken on the appearance of a factory. All work on the palace had been abandoned, and it stood unfinished as they concentrated on the walls and gun emplacements. The grounds of the keep had become a crowded tent city as people from Brigand's Roost and the settlement just outside the walls moved in for protection from Lord Kelvin's army, which was fast approaching. Advance scouts had already been sighted.

  The land beyond the settlement had already been cleared in preparation for new construction. Now, it would become an open field of fire. Bloody Bob's work crews had cut down small trees to make large stakes, sharpening them at the ends, crisscrossing and bracing them and setting them into the ground at angles in staggered lines, to impede the advance of troops in large formations across the open ground. Frenetic activity was taking place everywhere. Whenever Brewster wasn't checking on the work in progress, he was huddled in the great hall of the keep with Mac and Shannon, going over crudely drawn maps of the surrounding area in an effort to come up with defensive strategies.

  "It looks as if they will avoid the town on their approach," said Mac, as they stood around the table, looking down at the map he'd drawn. He pointed to it with a dagger. "The watch reports the army here at present. Their advance scouts have crossed the river and are now swinging around to the west, this way. That indicates they will be taking a circuitous approach."

  "Why not simply continue down the road and through the town?" asked Brewster.

  "Because the road to Brigand's Roost is narrow," Mac replied, "with thick woods all around. The troops would be stretched out along it for a good distance, which would afford too many possibilities for ambush from cover. Lord Kelvin is too good a general for that. He will circle round the forest, through the meadows here, and approach us from the west, down the road from Franktown. 'Tis a wider road, and it skirts the forest, following the river before bending around past the keep here, and going on toward Brigand's Roost." He outlined the course with the tip of his dagger as he spoke.

  "That will still take them through part of the forest," Shannon said.

  "True," Mac replied, "but for a much shorter distance. 'Tis the logical approach. Lord Kelvin knows that if we come out to meet him in force, we'd have to meet him on ground of his own choosing, here in this rolling meadow"-he pointed with the dagger-"where he will doubtless dispose his troops upon the rise. Otherwise, he will expect us to attack when he moves his troops down the road and through the f
orest, toward the keep. If I were him, I would send one column down the road, and wide flanking columns of skirmishers through the forest on either side. That way, if the main column was attacked, he could bring his skirmishers in and trap the attacking force, then advance upon the keep, saving the town for last. 'Twould make a good incentive for his troops to have the town to plunder once the keep had fallen."

  "The keep isn't going to fall," said Shannon firmly.

  "If it does," Mac replied, "then there will be nothing standing between Lord Kelvin's forces and the town."

  "What do you propose to do?" asked Brewster.

  "Well, we are vastly outnumbered, and our force is poorly trained," said Mac. "Lord Kelvin would have the decided advantage if we met in open combat on a field where he could maneuver. There has been no word from Rachel?"

  Brewster shook his head. "No, and we have heard nothing from the dwarves, either. So, unless something happens very soon, we cannot count on any help from either the elves or the dwarves. We may have to do this on our own."

  "Then our best bet is to make our stand right here," said Mac. "I will position the main body of our force here in the woods, to the east of us, between the keep and Brigand's Roost, so that they may strike Kelvin on his flank as he comes at the keep and then fight a defensive action and retreat back toward the town as necessary. The remainder of our force will man the walls. What progress are you making with your special weapons?"