Hemlock and the Wizard Tower

by B Throwsnaill

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Falignus sat at the council table and looked over the current members that comprised the leaders of the Wizard Guild.  Since the recent battle where the wizards had confronted Gwineval and captured Hemlock, Falignus had been coming to grips with the fact that the leadership of the Guild was now crippled.  During that battle Malvert, former leader of the First Circle, and Arcos, former leader of the Fourth Circle, had been lost.  Falignus was coming to realize more and more just how much he had relied on the council and independent ability of these two fallen leaders.

  Of the remaining council members, Jalis was, in the estimation of Falignus, an ambitious fool and Colberth was conservative to a fault. Gwineval's former ally, the Wizard Miara, was now reduced to little more than brooding as she came to grips with the fact that the Crimson Order was now pre-eminent; she was of little use as an advisor or as a leader.

  Falignus thought that the lone bright spot on the council was Kraven, the tall, winged Wizard who so far had shown a promisingly sharp mind. But Falignus knew that he was still inexperienced.

  Falignus even had begun reluctantly admitting to himself that Gwineval, despite his divergent ideals, had been a valuable voice on the council that was now missed.

  Given the lack of leadership and experience surrounding him, Falignus had begun to meet frequently with Samberlin, the ambitious leader of the City Senate. Falignus worried, however, that he was becoming too reliant on Samberlin for sound advice. Samberlin had a reputation as a ruthlessly self-interested politician– a reputation which Falignus believed was completely deserved. Falignus didn't like much about this ever expanding political relationship, but he did admit to himself that the old Senator was particularly insightful.

  Falignus returned his attention to the events at hand. Siros, the new council member representing the First Circle of magic, was addressing the council.  Large and imposing like Malvert, he was proving to be far less nuanced than the older, more experienced warrior had been.  Falignus had been trying to mold Siros and attempting to get him to think more deeply about tactics and strategy, but so far Siros had only demonstrated a mastery of the frontal assault. 

  Though Falignus was always looking amongst the rank and file for promising candidates for promotion, no leaders had yet emerged from the First Circle who could rival Siros’ raw charisma. Falignus had chosen Siros because he knew that the soldiers would follow the man; he knew that he needed a strong leader in combat before any other secondary qualities could be considered. So he had stuck with Siros, despite his deficiencies.

  "We hit the Tanna Varrans hard–somewhat near their town of Tor Halos, where they had retreated into a pass between two hills.  I sent flanking forces to take the hilltops, but they were intercepted.  A Tanna Varran reserve force ambushed us from the peaks, and sent their flying lancers down from above.  Even though we outnumbered them, we were hard put for a long while.  Finally, they broke off.”

  "Soon after, we heard an explosion, which we realized marked the destruction of the nearby Oberon harvesting Obelisk.  The Tanna Varrans had sent another force to overwhelm our rear guard while we were busy in the pass. They destroyed our unit and soon after, the Obelisk.  They detonated the Obelisk somehow," said Siros, his brow furrowed and dark and his eyes darting from side to side as he spoke.

  Falignus rose from his chair as he spoke, as if the force of his words buoyed him. "Haven't I told you to beware of misdirection?  And why would you engage them in that pass knowing that they have flying forces that could use the heights to advantage?"

  "They were in retreat–I thought that we would rout them," replied the reticent warrior wizard.

  Falignus slumped into his chair.  "Was there any sign of Gwineval?"

  "No, none that we could tell," replied Siros, eyes downcast.

  Falignus felt a wave of despair pass over him, but he was able to quickly quell it.

  He then felt a strong pang of desire to initiate a ritual spell of prescience in order to try to see what Gwineval’s next intentions would be.

  But he remembered the last time that he had tried that; he remembered all too well how his hand had briefly faded into the nether realm. He was now, under the pressure of a conflict with an uncertain outcome, almost willing to take that risk again in order to obtain the knowledge that he so desperately sought.

  But one thought restrained him, would Hemlock ever accept me as a lover if I walked that path?

  He felt sure that she would not. And beyond that worry, he felt that she would never join in a partnership with him should he show signs of a dark transformation.

  No, I must rely on my own wits and counsel.

  "Siros, regroup your forces and prepare for the next harvest. Try to do better this time," instructed Falignus.

  "The time may soon come when Gwineval chooses to directly intervene," he continued. "Remember, you must retreat when that happens. Make sure that you drill the units with the new counter spells that we’ve prepared since your last campaign."

  Siros replied formally, "I will do this." The large Wizard rose and stood at attention.

  Falignus responded to this gesture with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, shaking his head. "This meeting of the council is adjourned. Siros, you will do well to note that in your newly elevated position of head of the First Circle that you need not stand at attention any longer."

  Siros, looking uncomfortable, grunted his acknowledgement, and quickly turned and left the room.

  A young wizard was waiting for Falignus outside the council chamber.

  "Samberlin is waiting for you, sir," the slim youth announced.

  Falignus nodded and strode toward the central stair. He then descended to the lower level to meet the Senator.

  …

  Falignus stood as Samberlin entered the Audience Chamber. He beckoned the older man to join him at the front of the hall. Falignus sat on a raised dias upon which seven ornate chairs were arrayed. A small but delicately carved wooden chair had been placed before the dias for Samberlin.

  Falignus sat and then gestured for Samberlin to sit.

  Falignus reflected that although the chamber in which they sat was smaller than the Senate hall with which Samberlin was accustomed to, the sculpted wizards who stood in silent observation lent this chamber a certain oppressive gravitas that the open and airy Senate chamber lacked.

  "What word from the Senate floor?" Falignus asked.

  "It is quiet.  Magic deliveries are running smoothly.  There is still some talk of the battle of Tor Varnos, but it is being perceived by the people as a victory for the wizards. Most of the Knights have observed our warnings and are not talking about the battle. There are rumors, of course, but these are not being heeded by the general populace or most of the Senators," replied Samberlin in a dry tone which bordered on disinterest.

  Falignus found the man mildly irritating, but he had proven to be a useful and unexpected ally.  Managing the Elites and their Senate had always been an annoyance for Falignus–and working directly with Samberlin had greatly reduced that annoyance.  Still, Falignus didn't trust Samberlin and he feared, at times, that Samberlin might be manipulating him subtly.  Samberlin was the only person in the City that Falignus felt might actually be smarter than he was, and that made him seem all the more dangerous.

  "It was a victory," Falignus responded.

  Samberlin looked at him skeptically. "As you say. That story will be believable as long as Oberon production is sustained."

  "I asked you here today because I want to inform you about a ... guest… that we have in the Tower," said Falignus, changing the subject.

  "A guest or a prisoner?" asked Samberlin.

  "So you know something of this personage?"

  "Word has spread of the events in the Witch Crags in certain circles.  I know some things about it and about ... her."

  "Fair enough.  I would like you to interview and observe her.  I need to know wheth
er I can trust her or not.  I do have some leverage over her, but I need to get beyond needing that.  I need her to stand beside me as a true ally."

  "Are her goals in alignment with yours?"

  "Our immediate goals are, yes.  She wishes to kill the rogue Wizard, Gwineval, and so do I.  Beyond that, she has been influenced by a local vigilante for many years.  He tried to instill principles of personal liberty in her.  It is these principles which I must overcome in order to have her serve as an ally in my...our effort to realize our vision for the City."

  "An interesting slip of the tongue," noted Samberlin darkly.

  "You and I have an understanding, Samberlin," lectured Falignus, sitting forward in his chair abruptly. "We both know that we are better served being allies than enemies."

  The older man took on a nonchalant look as he responded. "True enough, I have said as much in the past. What is important, I think, is that we share a vision for the future of the City. But, at times, I become concerned that you are harboring a different vision of that future than you let on."

  Falignus chuckled and brushed some of his flowing locks of dark hair out of his eyes. "Why, Samberlin, isn’t this amusing? To hear you accuse me of a hidden agenda, when you have so many hidden agendas that I’m surprised that you can keep track of them all."

  Samberlin smiled and responded only with a mock bow.

  "I will send the girl called Hemlock to you at the lake exit from the Tower tomorrow, one hour after sunrise. Speak with her and use your acute powers of observation. Tell me if she can be trusted," instructed Falignus.

  "Drink this potion before you leave your home for the meeting.  It will make you invisible during the proceedings.  Once you return take this counter–potion to restore yourself." said Falignus, handing the Senator two vials, which the latter placed within his robe.

  "Of course," said Samberlin. "I never fail to be amused by your security measures," he added.

  "No measures are foolproof.  Today you are disguised as a harlot coming and going from the Tower–tomorrow you will be invisible.  None in the Senate must suspect that we are in collusion."

  "Some probably do, since it should be evident to the perceptive that it would be in my interest to be in collusion with you.  As long as we do not provide any proof, all will be well.  Farewell."

  Samberlin rose and bowed more convincingly than he had moments before.

  As the old Senator walked the length of the chamber and exited, Falignus tried in vain to read some cue of the older man’s intentions from his walk.

  Is he pleased to be able to speak to Hemlock?

  Falignus decided that he would send Kraven, his most trusted advisor on the council, to observe the interview. Hopefully Samberlin would not be able to manipulate Hemlock under the observation of Kraven.

  "Kraven is smart, but Samberlin may be too subtle for him," Falignus worried. But he knew of no other alternative, so he considered the matter closed. He rose and exited the chamber.

  …

  Hemlock was escorted out of the eastern gate of the Wizard tower, which was located deep underground.  The wizards lit the way by igniting a series of enchanted magical torches, which were embedded in the rough stone walls along their path in the humid darkness. 

  She had been asked to meet with the leader of the Senate at the request of Falignus.

  She wasn't sure why Falignus wanted her to talk to the Senator, but she was suspicious of his intentions.  Falignus had said, when she had questioned him about the meeting, that he had merely wanted her to meet the man, whom Falignus had said was an important political figure in the City and also an advisor and ally of the wizards.

  Hemlock could not escape the feeling, however, that she was being sent to meet the Senator in order for Falignus to gain another perspective on whether she was telling the truth about her desire to slay Gwineval or not.

  Hemlock was encircled in a shimmering band of color, which emanated from a staff borne by the Wizard directly behind her. The ever changing energy field made her feel sluggish, and she could not attune to it because it kept changing its nature.

  Hemlock could not see the Wizard who restrained her, but she knew that it was the leering winged wizard known as Kraven, who only disguised his lust for her when Falignus was present.

  Hemlock knew that the wizards had devised this multi–colored spell to attempt to control her powers.  It was a variant of the spell which they used in their dungeon, where she had languished when she had first been brought to the Tower.

  Hemlock knew that the spell, which seemed to be a randomly alternating set of debilitating dweomers, had been effective in restraining her in the dungeon.  But she wasn't sure whether this weaker, mobile version would restrain her if she devoted her full energies to escaping.

  But Hemlock was not sure that she wanted to escape.  She wanted to kill Gwineval, and she thought that having the wizards as allies could be essential in that effort.

  I can't take on the entire Tanna Varran kingdom by myself.

  Falignus had sent four other tattooed wizards with Kraven, although they were not able to fly like Kraven could, which Hemlock thought made them poorly suited to support him.

  After a time the group came to a narrow passage which extended about one hundred feet, and forced them all to walk in single file. It ended in a small, locked iron door. A wizard unlocked the door with a gesture, and the group emerged into a narrow chasm, open to the morning sky.

  Hemlock's eyes were stung by the sudden shift from dark to light, but soon she was able to see a grassy rampart which led from the floor of the chasm upward.

  The group climbed this path, and Hemlock admired the many colorful and flowering vines which clung to the rocky walls of the chasm. She also enjoyed listening to the songs of many birds which flitted about the group as they walked.

  Soon the group emerged onto the long semi-circular road which was located at the center of the City and which surrounded Hemisphere Lake. They stood on the section of the road which was adjacent to the eastern side of the moat that surrounded the Wizard Tower and the western side of the Lake.

  An older man in a loosely fitting Senate robe waited.

  He introduced himself, bowing, and looking at Hemlock: "I am Samberlin, speaker of the Senate."  He nodded to Kraven as well.

  "I am Hemlock," she replied.

  "Let's walk."

  "All right."

  Hemlock made eye contact with Samberlin as they settled into an easy stride, flanked by the wizards.  She noticed that Samberlin was careful to stay at a reasonable distance from the magical field surrounding her, but was still close enough for easy conversation.

  "So tell me what happened in the Witch Crags," said Samberlin.

  Hemlock found the gaze of the older man disconcerting.  There was an analytical quality that was constantly present, almost like a third party to their conversation.

  Hemlock decided to divert his line of questioning with one of her own. "Are you an ally of Falignus?"

  Samberlin smiled in amusement, but Hemlock noted that there was little joy in that smile, and a subtle hint of derision.

  "I wouldn't use the term ally," he responded. "I would say instead that we are united by a common purpose."

  "Does Falignus appreciate this distinction?"

  "Of course.  I make no attempt to disguise my primary motive in life, which is self-interest.  There are certain corollaries that arise from that motive, such as the benefits of government and basic ethics. But I act in my own interest and everyone knows this about me.  I think that in a way, people trust me because of this, which is somewhat ironic.  Perhaps it’s because they know that I do not act rashly or without full consideration of the ramifications of my actions."

  Hemlock found Samberlin’s nonchalantly amoral attitude repulsive. Safreon had always stressed to her that compassion toward those deserving of it was a core value to live by. Samberlin evidently was diametrically opposed to that view
point.

  There was a long pause in the conversation. Hemlock remembered her many days with Safreon and became sad.

  Samberlin broke the silence in an upbeat tone which contrasted starkly with Hemlock’s mood. "So how are you feeling, oh great Redeemer, Savior of the City and Protector against the threat of the rogue Wizard and his army of unwashed savages from the Witch Crags?"

  Hemlock looked at him, trying to determine whether he was mocking her, but while he was smiling, he also looked serious.

  What does he mean?

  "That is how you will be known to the people, as their Champion against the tyrannical wizard, Gwineval."

  "That sounds a little...theatrical," she replied.

  Samberlin stopped short and looked at her in admiration.  "Oh my, Falignus didn't do you justice when he described you."

  "What are you talking about?  It was just an observation."

  Samberlin resumed walking and Hemlock and the escorting wizards followed his lead.

  "An excellent observation, even if you do not appreciate its significance.  You grew up in the Warrens as I understand it?"

  "Yes."

  "What do you know of the Elite district and Senate politics?"

  "As little as possible," she replied sarcastically.

  "Amazing."

  "What?"

  "It just amazes me when I see how well our plans work sometimes.  We've carefully crafted conditions in the Warrens to produce a stable and apathetic population.  Your response is precisely what I would have hoped for."

  Hemlock felt angry and violated at the same time.

  "Don't be offended–you've clearly risen above your modest origins," Samberlin offered in a conciliatory tone.

  Hemlock was still angry.  She looked at the older man. She could see his slight build, which was revealed by his robe as he walked. He wasn't frail and was fairly well-conditioned, but he looked fragile all the same. Hemlock thought that she could probably dispatch him with a single blow to the head.

  "Listen Hemlock, I need to discuss certain political and social realities with you. We seem to have a common goal–all of us–which is to rid the City of the threat of Gwineval, who now apparently wields a power that could destroy us all."

  "Look, it's personal for me with Gwineval.  I don't need to hear all of this.  All that you need to know is that when I see him I'll attack."

  "Not true.  What if circumstances change?  What happens after we eliminate him?  We are offering you more than a mercenary role in this; we'd like you to become part of our organization.  We'd like you to consider our ideology, which I think you may find compelling once you allow yourself to honestly contemplate it."

  Hemlock considered his words as she looked at the many beaches and parks that surrounded Hemisphere Lake.  Even at this early hour some people, who were likely taking a day of leisure, were setting up picnic areas.  Far along the shoreline from where they stood, she observed the brightly colored umbrellas of the Elite areas. Closer were the areas where the people from the Warrens made their picnics – with drab umbrellas that were often tattered or patched.

  Hemlock considered anew what she had always accepted; that the Elites had their areas and that the people from the Warrens had other separate areas.  The two groups did not intermingle.

  Have we all been manipulated for all of these years?

  "Why don’t the people from the Warrens insist on using the Elite beaches?" Hemlock asked aloud.

  "People are tribal in nature. They are conscious of their tribal affiliation and of other tribes. We go to great lengths to reinforce the distinctions of course. But it is largely an innate trait. People must never feel that their tribe is a castoff or exploited by the other tribes. That is why we always elevate a certain number of people from the Warrens into positions of public honor – in order to perpetuate the perception that true merit can overcome tribal boundaries. People don’t always completely accept that, but it creates enough doubt that they do not challenge the tribal boundaries. Overall, this tribalism and our policies to manage it and reinforce it serve to maintain order quite effectively."

  "You don’t see that as exploitation?"

  "No, I consider it a necessary symbiosis. The Elites provide the laws, structure and ethical standards that define the lives in the Warrens. The Warrens provide the human capital that we need to build and maintain both of our communities. Before the Elites and the wizards, this land was ruled by a number of feuding warlords. Suffering and death were a dominant part of everyone’s lives. The Imperator ended that, and established this order, which has withstood the test of time until today."

  Hemlock flushed with anger as she considered whether the work that Safreon and she had done in the Warrens had furthered the aims of Samberlin and the Elites.

  "Are people…are they just pawns on a chessboard to you? The people of the Warrens could live on their own," Hemlock responded indignantly.

  Samberlin chuckled. "No, governments control fear. Without a government, people’s natural desire for more wealth takes hold, unfettered by any overarching authority. These people begin to use violence, fear and intimidation to exploit the weak. You need some form of central government to keep the meaner side of the human spirit in check."

  Hemlock was angry, but these ideas were new to her. She felt overmatched by the experience of Samberlin.

  "The reason that I am telling you all of this is that you need to enter into an alliance with us with your eyes wide open. You are very powerful, but you need to understand that your power needs to be applied and channeled through subordinates; the people," explained Samberlin, sweeping his arms around him at the final word.

  "Could you have faced the entire horde of that foul Witch by yourself? No, you needed the people to be with you, to support you and to allow your power to be applied to maximum effect. The control that we exert over the people is used to this same end. Your former mentor may have seen this as evil, but we see it as a necessary reality."

  Again Hemlock felt overmatched.

  I need to think. Why didn’t Safreon discuss this with me?

  "What is the relationship between the Elites and the wizards?" she finally asked.

  For the first time, Samberlin did not immediately reply.

  "Again, it’s a symbiosis. The wizards control a vital resource: magic. Sometimes that has put us at odds with them. Ultimately, magic would have to be controlled by some entity; for in its raw form, it puts too much power into the hands of individuals, leading to risk of a society without central control, and all of the negative consequences that I’ve just described. The wizards and the Senate share power now. The wizards control magic very effectively and the Senate controls people equally effectively."

  "Why can’t the Senate act in the interest of the people instead of controlling them?" Hemlock argued.

  "Because people often aren’t smart enough to understand their own best interests."

  "I don’t agree with that."

  "You’re young, wait until you have time to observe how people act and react – especially in a crisis. You’ll see."

  They had been walking for some time, past the beaches and the Senate building, which stood tall and proud. That edifice had always seemed to embody justice to Hemlock. Now the overseer of that building was telling her that it was all a lie. That edifice was now the embodiment of manipulation in Hemlock’s eyes.

  Having almost completed a full circuit of the lake, they were again nearing the Wizard Tower, which rose dark and mysterious, in contrast to the stately grandeur of the Senate building, which rose as a counterpart, across the smooth water of the lake.

  Becoming conscious of their location, Samberlin asked, "Is that enough for today? Or would you like to ask more questions?"

  "You’ve given me things to think about, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. I will work with the wizards until we kill Gwineval. After that, no promises," Hemlock responded
defiantly.

  Hemlock heard a skeptical grunt from behind her. Looking back, she met eyes with Kraven.

  "It will be fun to hunt you down then, after we kill the Lizard," he boasted, leering.

  "Silence, you fool," Samberlin said flatly.

  "Hemlock, your last remark was a dangerous statement. One might infer that you might turn on us once Gwineval falls. How are we expected to react to such an inclination on your part?"

  "That is your concern, not mine," Hemlock responded, eyes still locked with Kraven.

  Samberlin sighed. "Unfortunate. Well, you lot, take her back. And you," he pointed to Kraven, "don’t get any rash ideas. Take her back unharmed."

  "As you say, old man. Come on," Kraven replied, continuing to smile darkly.