Ardeen, Volume 1: The Circle of Magic

by Sigrid Kraft

  Eryn was about to retort but Deren quickly interrupted: “Well, that’s the way it is. Our company is a mixed bunch of commoners and bastards, so why not a cripple, too?”

  “Oh, shut up, Deren!” Ravenor shouted angrily, and Farat used the moment to tease:

  “Ooh, but our lordship is sensitive today.”

  He looks like the Black Prince, was the thought that flashed into Eryn’s mind. Is Ravenor perhaps related to the Black Prince? That makes him all the more disagreeable to me.

  “How do you fancy a thrashing?” Ravenor threatened, but Deren merely laughed:

  “Three against one. It’s not looking good for you, mate.”

  “D’you want to bet?” Ravenor returned and started to peel off his armor.

  Eryn stood there, feeling a little lost. “What now?” he asked.

  Deren turned to him: “I’ll tell you about the men of distinction.”

  In the background, Farat remarked: “You’ve already met the most important man here – Ravenor.”

  No one reacted to the provocation and Deren continued unperturbed:

  “The first commander of the Black Guard is Lord Boron, also called the Gray Wolf. He and the Prince have known each other since childhood.”

  To the name ‘Lord Boron’, Eryn’s inner eye unexpectedly attached a face.

  He was the one who led the troop into the mountains. I wanted to throw a stone at his head while I was chained to the citadel wall. Considering my present situation, I’m glad, I didn’t do that.

  At least, magic had hindered Eryn from carrying out that particular action. Meanwhile, Deren kept talking: “For now, you’ll have nothing to do with Lord Boron. He doesn’t concern himself with the likes of us. There are five companies of one hundred men each. Sir Oswold is commander of I Company. They are the veterans, seasoned in battle and long-serving. Sir Wylden commands II Company, the Regulars. III to V are training companies. III is where the sons of the high nobility of Ardeen come. To have served in the Guard is a prerequisite for having a military career. We call those of the third only lordlings. Sir Hearkin is their commander. Sir Heime commands the IV, the Company with the magic candidates. They are structured differently to the others. But don’t ask me who commands whom there. And last but not least, our Company, the V. Sir Draken is our commander. Each company has five troops, each of twenty men. Our troop leader is Sir Galden. You’ve already met him. Could have turned out worse. Sir Galden is the last word in correctness. He does his job and if you do likewise and obey all rules, then you won’t have a problem with him. He’s not one of those who take pleasure in bullying around others, which is a real boon. Our troop is called the Bastards Company.”

  “Why?” Eryn wanted to know.

  “Well, because to our company come the not-so highborn and the unofficially recognized highborn, in other words – the bastards. We’ve even got some bastards of His Highness the Black Prince, such as our Ravenor here.”

  Oh, lo and behold! Just as I thought! “And why do they want to do service as soldiers?” Strange if he’s really the son of the Prince.

  Before Deren could answer, Ravenor hissed: “What’s that to do with you? Do I ask where you come from? Not that I give a monkey’s anyway.”

  He is as arrogant as his old man. “At least I don’t have to make a secret out of it. I’m Eryn Bloodhand, warrior of the clan of the Fenn. True son of Bron Bearslayer.”

  Eryn could not resist rubbing Ravenor’s nose in that, which promptly caused a reaction.

  “An ape from the mountains! Ooh, Bloodhand, what sort of primitive name is that? Did you get that name when they cut off your hand?”

  That’s enough. I can match you even with one hand.

  Eryn was already half way across the room and Ravenor jumped up from the bed and raised his fists threateningly.

  “Come on! Do you want to find out?”

  Deren stepped between them: “Stop it, damn it! This is a waste of time!” Farat had also got up to help Deren separate the two angry men.

  “We’ll settle this now, once and for all! Me and the ape. Deren get out of my way! It’s none of your business!” Ravenor pushed forward. But before the two of them laid a hand on the other, the door opened and Sir Galden stepped in.

  “What’s all the noise?”

  In a second, the whole scene changed. The three roommates leapt to attention and clicked their heels. Eryn did his best to copy them.

  Again Sir Galden asked: “Is there a problem?”

  “No, Sir!” a chorus yelled very convincingly in reply.

  “Well, that’s good, because I can do without problems in my troop. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “Tomorrow morning on the parade ground, in full armor without weapons.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “... and show the newcomer how to do a proper salute.”

  The recruits exchanged a few more words with Sir Galden, who then left. The four men relaxed.

  But before Eryn or Ravenor could say anything, Deren warned them: “If you two mess around, don’t forget, we all have to pay for it. So hold back. I don’t want to have every detention that ever existed thrown at me.”

  Moodily, Ravenor turned to his equipment and Farat now took over the explanation of further particularities in the life of a recruit.

  During the night, Eryn had caught himself wishing he were back in his chamber in the citadel. Someone was snoring and the beds creaked with every movement. In the middle of the night, one of his roommates got up and went outside. Tap, tap, tap, followed by the rasp of the door as it was opened. A little while later the sounds occurred in reverse order. Eryn felt as if he had just fallen asleep when someone shouted jarringly:

  “Get up!”

  The other three leapt out of bed and began throwing on clothes in a frenzy.

  “Why is there no water in the pitcher?” complained Ravenor.

  “It was your turn to get some yesterday,” replied Deren, promptly ending the discussion.

  “I’ll save the shaving for later, then,” said Ravenor drily as he fastened on his breastplate.

  Eryn’s difficulties here were twofold. First he had to find out how everything fitted together and second it was immensely awkward to fasten the straps with one hand. This meant, all the others were already waiting and he was still only half-dressed.

  “We have to go.” Ravenor urged impatiently.

  Farat started to help Eryn. “We’re punished as a group, or have you already forgotten? You could make yourself useful and help too.”

  “Not even in my dreams.”

  “Of course. You can be a right bastard, Ravenor. And nobody ever helped you, eh?”

  “Certainly not!” Ravenor bawled back.

  This wasn’t true. Both Deren and Farat had helped him at the beginning, just as they were now doing with Eryn.

  Farat mocked: “How wonderful it must be to have such a bad memory. Nothing clings to it.”

  Finally, they were all ready and hurried outside to arrive in the nick of time. The whole of V Company was on the parade ground and the schedule for the day was an extensive drill. They marched on the spot, turned to left and right and about-face. All perfectly in step. At least, that was the idea. More than once Eryn bumped unwillingly into his neighbor. Marching in a group turned out to be more difficult than he imagined. As if things weren’t bad enough already, the heavy armor started to chafe at several places and the new boots in particular were brutal. Soon Eryn’s body was covered with sweat, which ran into the abrasions and stung like hell.

  This is foul, Eryn thought more than once.

  It must have taken about an hour before it was happily over. The troops were lined up one after another and dismissed. Their troop was the last and when Sir Galden gave the command, he pointed to Deren, Farat, Ravenor and Eryn. “You four stay! The others, dismissed!”

  Sir Galden loomed over Eryn menacingly: “We have a lot of work to do here. You’ll practice with your
comrades for another hour.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Eryn replied meekly.

  “Speak up, recruit!”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  Ravenor snarled, at once ensuring he had Sir Galden’s undivided attention.

  “Do you have something to say, recruit Ravenor?”

  “No, Sir.”

  The officer gave Ravenor a close look: “Did you forget to shave this morning?” It was the rule that the soldiers had to take care of their appearance, and Ravenor looked decidedly unkempt.

  “I don’t grow a beard anyway, Sir.”

  “That wasn’t my question. And now that I think about it ... two hours of practice probably wouldn’t go amiss. It’ll give you enough time to think about respectful behavior and a neat appearance.”

  This time, Ravenor was clever enough to keep his mouth shut.

  Time passed agonizingly slowly, and Eryn’s discomfort grew increasingly painful. At long last, the two hours were over and the four of them hastened to get a meal before the kitchen closed, which would otherwise have meant going without food. Luckily, they made it just in time, and after they had filled their bellies, they went back to their quarters. Eryn sat down on his bed, completely done in.

  This armor is a torture. He thought wistfully of his smooth leather clothing and the warm, snug boots he had worn in the mountains. Even my coat of mail was much more comfortable than this.

  Flinching in pain, he peeled himself out of the armor and pulled on the robe.

  “Look at our wincing sissy. He’s already had enough of playing soldiers,” came out of Ravenor’s corner.

  What’s your problem, dickhead? “Didn’t you listen to Sir Galden? I have to present myself at the mages now. But of course, you didn’t understand his words. I mean, you couldn’t answer his simple question in the morning either.”

  “Here we go again,” grumbled Farat, and hid his face with a cushion.

  “At least I can walk in a straight line.”

  “And what’s the purpose of all that useless stamping about anyway? In a real battle, everything’s a chaotic clutter. When steel meets steel.”

  “That might be so with wood-people who jump out of their trees and hit the ground with sticks. But in the glorious army of Ardeen, battle formations make sense.”

  Smart aleck! “As luck would have it, I have to leave. That’ll spare me any more of your stupid talk.”

  Well, I’m not in quite such a hurry, but if I stay here any longer, then I’ll get caught up in another brawl with this jackass. Not such a good idea after our endless morning drill.

  His blistered feet made it a painfully long way to the mages. Unfortunately, Gorsch had given him the robe but no other shoes apart from the uncomfortable, heavy boots. Eryn tried to ease his pain with magic, but he didn’t succeed at anything he attempted. How was I able to close the massive wound on the stump when I even can’t cure a simple graze?

  Master Lionas welcomed Eryn in his usual friendly manner, and told him that he would be receiving individual tuition for some while. Later, he might take part in the regular classes, but at present, he lacked too many basics. The next piece of information was hard to swallow. Master Lionas told him about the strict order by Prince Raiden that no one was allowed to help him restore his hand.

  “Master Lionas, how long will it take till I reach that level of healing magic?”

  “First you should learn patience. You can become an extraordinary healing mage with your talent. If you study keenly – well, about four or five years, I should imagine.”

  That is unfair and barbaric. “And till that I’m damned to be a cripple. That is... cruel,” Eryn burst out but Master Lionas placated him:

  “It seems so to you now, but the handicap will teach you things which you otherwise wouldn’t understand. You will also develop far greater interest and alacrity regarding magic. I will begin teaching you healing spells and we will work through the Oranium.”

  Frustrated, Eryn asked: “Why was I able to close this enormous wound on my joint and now I can’t even cure a blister?”

  Patiently, Master Lionas explained: “In great peril a man can grow with the challenge – well it’s a bit like that. Suddenly you are capable of things you never imagined you’d be able do. It’s the same with magic. Instinctively, you do the right thing without ever having learned it. This phenomenon is also called using magic as a natural, or finding out about the use of magic by yourself. But it harbors hidden dangers, and particularly in healing magic, many things can go wrong. Which is why, to begin with, you should only practice during our tutorials.”

  The more questions were answered, the more arose. But Master Lionas seemed willing to answer all of Eryn’s questions - at least for a while.

  “How long does it take until you master the art of magic completely?”

  Master Lionas laughed out loud: “Oh lad, you’ll never master magic in its entirety. Just as you’ll never learn all professions on this earth. To become a war mage, you’ll be taught a special repertoire including the basics, which everybody should know. Healing magic is always important and also such a wide topic that you could study it endlessly and never know all of it. Shield spells and fighting spells are an immensely widespread topic, too. Not to mention spying magic, which includes brain-reading, scanning and noticing magical patterns. Every type of magic you do has its own special signature, which can be read by a person in possession of the right knowledge. It’s the same as reading words in a book, only in a different kind of language. It is equally important to discover what kind of spell has been used on something so that you can choose the right way to react.

  But we are still a long way from all of that. Now, before we start practicing, you will first listen to some rules: Never practice magic without my permission and when you attempt it on your own, then only the spells I have allowed you to do. This is for your own safety and for that of other people. It is really dangerous to experiment without knowing what you are doing, especially at the beginning. But today we’ll start with the light spell... it is harmless and a good way to learn to concentrate.”

  Eryn had tried to do the light spell ever since he had first been shown it. Now that he had gained access to his magic, he managed effortlessly to create a glowing light in his palm. After that first success, they focused on the first volume of the Oranium: Numbing pain and closing wounds. That was much more difficult, as you needed to merge different veins together. Eryn also learned the diagrams, gestures and incantations that accompanied the spell. Those three parts were not particularly necessary to perform magic, but they were very helpful for controlling the veins and also for remembering the right sequence in the procedure. Another difficulty was to find the right dosage. If you put too much force in numbing the pain, that could increase it instead of alleviating it. Eryn tried it out, and whenever his experiments ran out of control, Master Lionas intervened. Seeing his amateurish attempts now sent cold shudders down Eryn’s back. How badly I could have failed in the attempt to heal myself. And he understood how lucky he had been.

  Weaving magic was so exciting that time flew by, and then the lesson was over.

  Master Lionas asked Eryn to prepare a few pages of the Oranium for the next day and had already dismissed him when Eryn quickly asked:

  “Which volume of the Oranium is about regaining extremities?”

  Master Lionas thought briefly. “I believe it’s in the 18th. But start at the beginning, Eryn.”

  Back in the barracks, Eryn opened the book immediately and began to read.

  Everything is so interesting. Magic is not the work of the devil – it is science.

  He hadn’t got far when his roommates tumbled in. Dirty and weary, they took off their armor amidst a lot of moaning and groaning, before falling on to their beds in exhaustion.

  “I’m completely wrecked.” Farat stretched out his limbs.

  Deren surveyed the mud splashes on his equipment. “Cleaning first or food?”

  Common se
nse advised the first, but comfort did not.

  “Food first!” shouted Farat and Ravenor in one voice. They were worn out, but the thought of a warm meal brought them back to their feet again. All apart from Eryn. He wasn’t very hungry and was eager to read more of the art of magic. That was reason enough for Ravenor to remark maliciously:

  “Doing nothing for half a day – no wonder you aren’t hungry.”

  “I’m learning. Something you can’t do without a brain.”

  “Oh, our pussycat was already so exhausted from the morning exercise and now claims to be an intellectual man.”

  Deren sighed and then tried to calm them down: “The rule says all four of us have to go together to the dining hall.” But his attempt to avert the quarrel came too late. Eryn jumped up and slung a punch at Ravenor, who hit out at him at exactly the same time so that neither of them was able to block his opponent’s blow. Ravenor’s fist slammed into Eryn’s belly and Eryn’s blow made contact with the middle of Ravenor’s face. A nasty bruise blossomed over Ravenor’s eyebrow and his nose started to bleed. Eryn was bent double, gasping for air.

  Deren stepped between them and shouted: “Are you out of your wits? Do you want to see the pole today? Get a grip on yourselves.”

  Over the days that followed, Eryn became used to life in the Guard. During the morning, he had drill and at noon, he went off to learn the art of magic. Because of his missing hand he wasn’t able to take part in every exercise anyway. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the time off but was constantly sent to do some tiresome, soul-destroying task. After a certain amount of time had elapsed, he dared to drop in on Sir Galden to make a proposal:

  “Sir Galden, may I ask you something?”

  Galden’s stony face was not encouraging, but at least he was willing to hear Eryn’s request: “What’s the matter, recruit?”

  Eryn held Sir Galden’s glance; “For the times I can’t take part in the normal duties, wouldn’t it be more useful if I concentrated on my studies rather than being forced to do something just for the sake of it? That would certainly also be in the interests of Prince Raiden.”