Railroad Rising: The Blackpowder Rebellion

by J. P. Wagner

  He smiled, ruefully. “And all the time they’re gone, he wishes he’d gone out with them, because he knows the fault is his, whether he goes or stays.”

  At that moment Aderyn stirred in her nursemaid’s arms, muttering fretfully. Both parents turned to look at her; for the last while she had been ‘making strange’ with people, save for those she was commonly with, her parents, her nursemaid, and gruff old ‘Uncle’ Yakor, who had fallen in love with her practically from birth.

  “Is anything wrong?” asked Addy.

  “No, Lady, she’s just stirring. She’ll be back to sleep in a moment,” answered the nursemaid, looking at the baby gently.

  “Give her here for a moment, then, Minnia.”

  Minnia passed the baby over, who stirred and muttered again and, opening her eyes, saw mother, and closed her eyes, snuggling in comfortably. “She is a dear, isn’t she, Carrtog?”

  “She is indeed. And Gods willing, she will grow up to be as dear as her mother.”

  Addy laughed quietly. “Don’t say that sort of thing as she grows up; first she’ll be flattered out of all good sense, and later on, as her mother grows old and gray, she’ll be insulted.”

  “Don’t be foolish, my love. As we grow old together, you’ll just continue to grow more dear to me.”

  She laughed again. “You’re the foolish one! Just you make sure that we do grow old together.”

  She stopped suddenly. “Oh! I’m sorry, that’s just the kind of thing I shouldn’t say. Neither one of us needs to be reminded.”

  They stood in sober silence for a bit, then, until Carrtog put an arm around his wife and daughter. “No, don’t fret over it; however long the Gods give us to live together, let us enjoy that time and everything else the Gods give us.”

  It was just then that one of the ubiquitous little boys who hung around the works and occasionally ran errands came dashing up, a fearful expression on his face. “Lord, it’s Hwydach! Something dreadful’s happened!”

  Carrtog drew away from the warm embrace of his wife and daughter with more than a little reluctance.

  “Let’s go have a look, then. Addy, forgive me this sudden departure, I’m sure it won’t be long.”

  Addy shook her head, concern clear on her face, “Do as you need. We will be here for you when you’re done.”

  Carrtog kissed them both and left for the balloon-controllers’ shed.

  “What happened, boy?”

  Trotting along at Carrtog’s side, the boy answered, “He was working his balloon, as usual, looking over a Northie camp, when there was a flash in his bowl, and he went dead white, collapsing off his stool, holding on to his throat.”

  “I see.”

  The boy looked up at him. “You know what happened, then, Lord?”

  He shook his head. “I know several things that might have happened, I’ll have to look at him to be sure.”

  Shortly after, they were at the door of the shed. Carrtog opened it and went in. There, gathered around Hwydach’s area, were all the men who weren’t presently working, and some who ought to be.

  “All right, then, everyone back to your places! Parmavon, what happened?”

  Parmavon’s response was mostly a repetition of the boy’s story, with the addition of an odd smell and a dark blue color in the water in the scrying-bowl, which had faded gradually.

  “I see,” Carrtog said. “Well, I believe I can help. Bring me a bowl of clear water, and I’ll get to work.”

  Parmavon was back shortly with the bowl and a pitcher of water, which he poured into the bowl.

  Meantime, Carrtog had laid Hwydach out straight and checked his breathing, which was shallow. He frowned, then, realizing that everyone was watching him, calmed his features. The onlookers were already worried, and there was no sense in adding to that worry by his own expression.

  He looked around at them, and announced, “I’m about to cast a spell, and I’ll be firing a pistol so no one be alarmed.”

  He took out a pistol, making sure that this was the one that held only a powder-charge, but no ball, the one that he held ready for immediate use if a spell were necessary. He pointed it toward the floor, next to the unconscious balloon-controller, and fired it, repeating an incantation.

  For a moment, nothing happened, then the water in the newly-filled scrying-bowl turned green, and there was the scent of new-cut grass. He took a deep breath; good, so far.

  He watched, forcing himself to show no impatience, and then, long moments later, Hwydach began to breathe more deeply. Carrtog himself took a deep breath, and smiled. “I believe he’ll be well, now. Parmavon, send someone for a healer, just to be sure.”

  Parmavon called the boy who had fetched Carrtog and told him, “Off with you, bring the healer. Tell him Lord Carrtog has done what he can for Hwydach, but wants a healer to look at him to make sure.”

  “Yes, sir!” The boy was off at a run almost before Parmavon had finished speaking.

  Parmavon turned back to Carrtog. “Lord, what happened to Hwydach?”

  “Someone among the rebels used a spell to strike at him through the link of the scrying-bowl. My carelessness, I’m afraid. I never thought they’d convince anyone with that level of ability to go out, even for a visit, to one of the camps in the wild.” As he said it, Carrtog realized that in fact the chances were good that this was the same magician as had escaped their last raid. Careless indeed … he should have known something like this was coming.

  “Can you strike back, Lord?”

  “Strike back? I’m not sure, I’ll have to look into that. First thing I want to do is to protect the rest of the balloon-controllers. That I can do. If you’ll excuse me, I will begin work on it immediately.”

  “Of course, Lord.” Parmavon was a little flustered, and Carrtog, though he did not show it by his expression, was at least equally flustered. Best get hold of yourself, Carrtog, or you’ll have them all thinking you’ve gone mad. Asking a balloon-controller to excuse you, indeed.

  It took only a few moments looking at the traces left by the attack on Hwydach before he was able to formulate a protective charm for the rest of the balloon-controllers. All that was needed then was to summon them so that he could place the spell on all of them at once rather than waste the time by spelling each one as they came on duty.

  #

  “So all the to-do’s done, then, sir?”

  “For the time being, Yakor, for the time being. Until that magician, or another one, finds another spell that he can send over the link from the balloon, a spell that can slip past my protective charm, then I’ll need to make another.”

  He thought for a moment. “Of course, I should get myself busy thinking up attack-spells so I can devise defenses for them. Try to keep ahead of them.”

  Yakor chuckled. “And all the time they’re trying to get ahead of you so that you both wear yourselves out without actually doing anything.”

  Carrtog grinned. “You know, sometimes you can be a very unhelpful old man.”

  Chapter 25

  “So, the rebels are out in greater numbers now?” Carrtog looked around at his officers.

  “Definitely, sir,” answered Cargiodd. “Tracks torn up in two places yesterday, three the day before, Gods know how many today. Either they have more men out there, or the men they’ve got out there are working themselves to death.” He glared around as though daring any of the others to gainsay him.

  One of the other officers, Ffyldarch by name, asked, “Have none of those balloon-things been able to track any of these new troops?”

  Ffyldarch was not much in favor of anything new, or indeed in favor of much beyond swords and, just possibly, firearms. Carrtog occasionally considered getting rid of the man, but held off for fear of having him replaced by someone worse.

  “The balloons have not so far found a trace of them,” Car
rtog said, and refrained from speculating that the enemy had some new spell of concealment. That would seem like making excuses, and he didn’t feel he needed to make excuses.

  What he did need to do was spend more time and trouble trying to find out what he could. This involved taking charge of one of the balloons himself and checking the wilderness for what traces of new magic he could find. After that he would see what any such new traces suggested about concealment spells.

  “There is no blame to be attached to the balloon-controllers, they are doing the job they were trained for, and doing it well. I, as the most highly-trained magician here, will have to look into refinements of their training, if such are necessary, to deal with whatever new methods the rebels might be using.

  “If there is nothing else, gentlemen, you are dismissed.”

  He watched them as they got up and left. It might be a good idea to train the balloon-controllers for more, but it was a long step from training men to utilize the spells necessary for handling the balloons to giving those same men sufficient grounding in magic that they could not only notice traces of magic, but go from there to speculating on what those traces meant.

  It would be much better for him to do what he had already decided; take a balloon and fly it out along the track, particularly in the area of the latest track damage, and see what he could see.

  There was no difficulty acquiring a balloon; they had produced a number of spares, just in case. The difficulty came when he got it up in the air and sat down at a table in the balloon-controllers’ shed to send it out along the track. He’d gotten his balloon traveling down along the track at a good speed, when he suddenly noticed that the controllers’ shed had gone quiet. Instead of the usual light chatter between controllers, they were all quiet, looking at him and quickly back to their own scrying-bowls.

  He stopped his balloon and stood. “Gentlemen, I apologize. I should have told you what I intend before I started. I am not checking on your work at all. I am working at a whole different chore altogether. I am trying to find out if the rebels have any sort of new concealment spell in use, and this requires me to travel up and down the line to see if I can find any traces of magic, after which I will try to see what kind of spell was used. When I discover the remains of some new concealment spell, I will then go to work on a spell to defeat it, after which I will pass this on to you.”

  He paused, looking around at them. “For now, just carry on with your work as you normally do.” He stopped and sat down.

  As he went back to work, he heard the other balloon-controllers begin to chatter, but nowhere near so much as usual.

  “They don’t quite believe you’re not here keeping an eye on them, no matter what you say.”

  He looked up at Yakor. “I suppose I ought to have taken up a room in the house, but I didn’t think this would happen.”

  “If you have people under you and you hang around where they’re working, they’re almost always going to think you’re spying on them. Reassuring them that you’re not just makes them more certain you are.”

  “Gods help us! I suppose it’s too late to pack up and go over to the house.”

  “That’d be worse. They’d just think you were going to hide your spying.”

  “I just hope they don’t get so worried about me spying on them that they stop doing their work properly.”

  “The best thing you could do is stop worrying about it yourself. When you actually start training them to spot new spells and to defeat those spells, most of them will stop worrying about your spying. The rest, well, they’d be the ones who always thought you must be spying on them, even before you started to work here.”

  “Thank you, I think.”

  Yakor just grinned.

  #

  It was a long and arduous task; this being a wilderness area, traces of magic were few and far between. Many of those that were present were baffling for one reason or another. What was a trace of a very minor love-charm doing out in the wilderness? Others were baffling because the remnant did not give enough evidence to do more than guess what it might have been.

  By the end of the day, Carrtog had found nothing at all hopeful.

  “Don’t be so down,” Yakor said. “You said yourself that it’s a wilderness; how could you expect to find your answer on the first day?”

  Carrtog forced a smile. “Of course I expect success on the first day! Am I not the young hero who saved the king’s daughter and was rewarded by special training in magic? And did I not go on to make serious inroads into the rebels attempting to cut the rail lines? Success on the first day is therefore nigh to mandatory.”

  “Being the greatest fool on the Gods’ green earth is also mandatory, it seems. Now you’d best be getting back to your quarters and stop your fretting. You’ll end up yourself being scant comfort to Lady Adengler.”

  #

  The Lady Adengler, it seemed, had just received another letter from princess Ellevar. “She urges you to use caution, Carrtog, though she can’t be more specific than that. She says that her last two letters from her father mentioned you unfavorably. The most recent said, ‘Be careful of Lord Carrtog. Though he has done well in keeping the railway line clear, I do not altogether trust the man.’”

  Carrtog looked down at the third finger of his right hand. No, the ring was not prickling, but neither was it infallible. It was possible that some danger was coming and the ring was not warning him, or perhaps not warning him yet.

  “Gods’ mercies! The rebels appear to have found a way to hide themselves from our searchers and it’s now that the king is looking for something to accuse me of! Well, I suppose the only thing to do is to take whatever measures we can for our safety, given that we know so little. Addy, my dearest, would you like to pack up Aderyn and go stay with your parents for the time being?”

  Addy straightened and gave him a severe look. “Carrtog, is that all you think of me, that I should go running home to my father at the first hint of danger? If you want to send me home, you’ll have to tie me up and take me there, and then persuade my father to lock me up in a room somewhere! Otherwise, I’ll just slip away and come back to wait with you for whatever danger might be coming. Are you ready to do that?”

  He held up his hands as though to ward off her anger. “No, no, I’m not ready for that yet! I’d prefer to see you out of danger, but neither am I ready to do all sorts of useless things to try to accomplish that. All right, we stay and face what comes together.”

  #

  Day followed day, and Carrtog continued to seek for spell-remnants in the wilderness. Most often what he found were spell-scraps, too brief to prove anything, or else he found bits of hunting spells, or other equally useless remnants.

  He also worked from the other end, dealing with all sorts of spells of reversal and other spells which would banish all magic in a certain area. He also tried spells to reverse various invisibility spells with indifferent success.

  The other balloon-controllers, having by and large gotten over the notion of Carrtog spying on them, were still having occasional good luck finding other rebel bands, bands to whom the new magician had not come to with his new spells of invisibility. Such successes helped to make up, at least partially, for the bands which were invisible.

  “This will only help for a while,” Carrtog said to Yakor after they had seen the latest force go after another band of rebels that had been tracked down. “Once we’ve finished off all the rebels who we can still see, we’ll be left with the ones we can’t see.”

  “I assume you’ve looked over all the places these hidden gowks have attacked the railway?”

  “Yes. Whatever spell-traces they might have left seem to fade out fast.” He smiled, crookedly. “I’d say that’s very inconsiderate of whoever that magician is.”

  “Very inconsiderate.” Yakor smiled back.

  #

 
Very late that same afternoon, just as Carrtog was about to stop his searches for the day, Hachenbra called out, “Lord Carrtog!”

  Carrtog looked up from his bowl. “What is it?”

  “Something’s pulling the rails apart, Lord!”

  “Whereabouts?”

  The other consulted a list of landmarks beside his bowl, then said, “About twenty-five miles south from here, Lord.”

  Carrtog consulted his balloon’s own whereabouts, and a thrill went through him. “I’m a bare five miles south of that! Thanks, Hachenbra, I’ll turn my balloon and come up there immediately!”

  He sent his balloon northward as quickly as he could manage, but by the time he arrived, the rebels had done their work and were gone.

  Hachenbra spoke up again. “They’ve got a spell covering their tracks, Lord, but it doesn’t seem to work immediately. I see a bit of horse-track go down, then it disappears. They’re heading roughly north-eastward.”

  “Thank you once more, Hachenbra.”

  This time, he did find several spell-remnants. A couple of them were extra-strength spells, just the kind of thing one might want if one were looking to tear up railway tracks quickly.

  “This one’s for improved sight, Yakor. What in the name of the Gods was that for?”

  Yakor grinned. “Perhaps someone was trying for another improved strength and mistook his wording.”

  Carrtog merely snorted and continued making notes; several of the spell-remnants faded even as he made note of them. These ones he did not attempt to identify immediately, but just made what notes he could and went on to the next.

  “It seems almost certain that one of the features of the spell they used was that any remnants of it disappeared quickly. Very inconsiderate of them, Yakor.”

  “Yes. You’ve said that before.”

  “They may be even more inconsiderate by using spells that are difficult to identify from bits and pieces.”

  “Surely they can’t be that foul!”

  Apparently, they were at least that foul. Two evenings later, Carrtog was penning a letter to Enemantwin, explaining the new situation and asking if the older magician had any further suggestions for him.