Railroad Rising: The Blackpowder Rebellion

by J. P. Wagner

  #

  Then, just to add to the problems of the Royal Garrison of Kilgarhai, Yakor came in to set down a broadsheet before him.

  Broadsheets aimed at lowering the morale of royal troops were a common sight on the streets of Kilgarhai, tacked up on walls and fences. A whole squad was tasked, every day, with going through the streets and removing these broadsheets as they found them. Often as not the topic of these broadsheets was sufficiently futile that they might well be ignored, save that the king would surely not approve of their dismissal.

  This one, though, could scarcely be ignored.

  Soldiers of the king of Cragmor!

  Have you considered how much your king cares for your welfare? When the rising first began in Tenerack, certain of your fellow-soldiers were wounded too badly to be able to ride. Do you know what your brave king did then? He abandoned them in the middle of the night, and fled with the few who could still ride, leaving those wounded to the mercy of the people of the land they were occupying.

  If this brave king of yours finds himself in any sort of military difficulty, how much thought do you think he will give to your welfare? Surely not much more than to those he abandoned in Tenerack.

  Think of your own welfare, Soldiers of Cragmor!

  Carrtog looked up at Yakor. “You notice they don’t deny that their own people massacred wounded men?”

  “I scarcely think our king will be inclined to notice a fault in their propaganda. More likely he will think of you as their source of information, no matter how unlikely that seems.”

  Carrtog sighed. “Unfortunately, you’re quite likely right. We still have come no closer to finding the source of these broadsheets. They appear to have a very well-qualified magician hiding their source. Even assessing the paper and the ink has not allowed us to track the people who handled them.”

  “A very well-qualified magician you say? Perhaps even the same magician as the originator of the invisibility spells?”

  “If so, then he has been a thorn in our side longer than I realized.”

  “You sent a letter to Enemantwin about those spell-fragments you’re working on. I think it may be time to send him a letter about this.”

  Carrtog scowled at the broadsheet. “I’m afraid you’re right; up to now these things have been a mere nuisance, but this is serious.”

  He pulled over a blank sheet of paper and began to write.

  #

  On the afternoon of the next day, a train of five horse-drawn wagons came into Kilgarhai from the south. The man at their head was a tall and well-built fellow. He was well-dressed, as were all the top men among them. His face was square, his hair a dark red, and his nose was flat.

  He presented to Carrtog a letter with the king’s seal introducing him as Llodcar, a merchant, head of a band of merchants with the permission of the king to look into setting up businesses in Kilgarhai. The king’s note asked Carrtog to extend all hospitality and assistance to them.

  Carrtog returned Llodcar’s letter to him. “Go see my chief servant, and he will see to rooms for yourself and your men. Take your wagons to the stables; I am quite sure we will be able to put up your horses there.”

  After the wagons had gone on their rattling, creaking way, Yakor said, “I don’t trust them.”

  Carrtog held up his right hand, showing the polished bone ring. “My ring is prickling. It could mean something so simple as them making the local merchants upset at their possible competition, but I’ll take precautions. Among other things, I’ll put a spell on all the house guard, and certain other people, protecting them against certain magics. That’ll mean you and me as well.”

  “Good start. I’ll keep an eye on these traders and assign some of the guard to them as well.”

  “Good. I hope they don’t expect me to personally escort them around and introduce them to the local merchants; I’ve been spending a lot of time and money making connections with the local merchants, and I wouldn’t want to ruin that by having to go round and introduce some possible competitors. Worse still, these competitors appear to have the backing of the king himself.

  “Well, enough of this fussing over what might be; I’ve got to go back to work at those spell-remnants. Something just occurred to me regarding some of them, and I’ve got to see if it’s actually a good idea, or just my mind trying to convince me that it’s actually good for something.”

  Yakor grinned. “Oh, I’m sure it’s good for something. What that might be, I don’t know, but it must be good for something.”

  “Thank you very much. Now I’ve got to get to work.”

  His first notion as to how to deal with the spell-remnants did not work out, but it did suggest another possibility. Unfortunately, that possibility, when investigated, showed that while it might indeed belong to an invisibility spell, it was an invisibility spell with certain unusual features. It would thus require special handling to reverse it.

  Later that evening, he was still hunched over a table full of scribblings by the light of a flickering oil lamp when Addy came in. She was dressed in a soft nightgown with a warm housecoat over it, belted at the middle. She was unaccompanied, but carried a single long candle in a holder.

  “My dear, an hour and more ago, you told me you were coming to bed shortly. Surely you’d be able to work better if you put these things aside and gave yourself several hours’ rest.”

  He looked up at her blankly, then rubbed his eyes. “It’s not been that long, surely?” He shook his head. “Of course it has.” He looked down at his papers and took up his quill again. Then he carefully set aside the pen, capped the ink-horn, and stacked the papers with little heed for order.

  “You’re right, of course. It’s just that every hour those rebels can ride around unseen allows them that much time to wreak havoc with the railway line. And every hour the rail line is cut is another mark the king can set against me if he wishes.”

  “And every hour you take away from your rest is another hour you are working at somewhere less than your best ability and therefore that much less likely to find the solution you seek.”

  He grimaced. “You’re right, of course. I’ll go back at it in the morning.”

  Chapter 26

  The next morning however, the spell on the railway itself warned of tampering along the line. The nearest balloon to the spot got there in time to see nothing but a stretch of broken track. The repair-crew, along with a troop to guard them, went out almost immediately after the first alarm was received.

  Carrtog, a new spur to his efforts, went back to work. He had already discovered that the spell was a complex one and was beginning to discover that some of the complexities seemed to have been added intentionally.

  “Enemantwin would be scandalized,” he muttered to himself. The old magician had considered elegance in spell-craft to be an absolute, that the grace of simplicity was the mark of an experienced spell-crafter. This spell, with all its unnecessary flourishes and embellishments, seemed to indicate the caster was a novice intent on demonstrating his mastery of the art and in doing so demonstrating just the opposite. Once one had discovered just how unnecessary the flourishes were, one could ignore most of them in deriving a counter-spell. The trick was to be certain which ones could be ignored.

  Carrtog was beginning to suspect that not all of them were frivolous.

  Carrtog wanted very much to go out as soon as possible to track down this hidden band and their thorny magician, but he was also quite aware of the danger of going out not fully prepared. He forced himself, therefore, to be meticulous in his work, not scrimping in his efforts to be certain of his goal. While doing this work he was also aware of the fact that the magician who had produced this spell, with all its unnecessary flourishes, might well also be a formidable foe when it came to combat-magic. Just because he was not as elegant as Enemantwin would desire did not mean that he would not be
effective. It was almost certain that he would be able to counter the Grove of Battle, so Carrtog must be ready with an alternative. That, and be certain that he could overcome the spell of invisibility in the first place.

  He leaned closer, examining his work.

  At last he leaned back, giving a long sigh of relief. It was done. As it turned out, the spell was almost a common one, save that one of the embellishments had to be taken into account when producing a counter-spell. Now, was it a tricky use of what looked like amateurish spell-craft in order to produce something hard to deal with or was it just the good luck that sometimes favored amateurs? Best he should treat it as someone being tricky, rather than convince himself it was an amateur getting lucky. Thinking the alternative would be the fastest way to be caught unawares in actual battle.

  “Yakor! Send someone to tell Commander Cargiodd to prepare a force for a raid. Probably four troops.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  Shortly after, Yakor returned. “You’ve worked it out, have you?”

  “I believe I have. No, let’s be definite about it. Yes, I have. It was overly complex but not uncommon. Maybe a lucky amateur or a sneaky master of the trade. I’m going with the sneaky master, just to avoid being caught by surprise.”

  Yakor nodded approvingly. “Good! Always best to be ready for the worst.”

  “Yakor?”

  “Sir?” Yakor’s expression demonstrated that he expected something unusual.

  “I want you to stay behind. My ring is still predicting trouble, and I want you to keep an eye on the family and all. I’ll renew the protective spell on you and the others,for whatever help that might be.”

  Yakor didn’t argue. “I’ll do my best, sir.”

  “Yes, I know you will. Thank you.”

  #

  It was late afternoon, and they were marching along the road beside the railroad. Commander Cargiodd turned to Carrtog and said, “So you are accompanying us this time to cast the spell to reveal the Northies’ tracks, Lord?”

  “No, not their tracks, but the rebels themselves. Unless their commanders are total fools, they will have their men hiding their tracks, not totally depending on the spell to hide them. But the fact that someone among them has a new spell of invisibility suggests that a magician is one of their number. Very likely the same man as before who knows a good deal more magic than your average soldier. My main purpose in coming is to be present and ready for whatever he might throw at us.”

  “You foresee magic you might not be able to deal with, Lord?”

  “Such as the invisibility spell that I had to work so long at? Possibly. But in combat-magic, it is not always necessary to be able to reverse an enemy spell, only to cast a more powerful spell. Preferably to cast that powerful spell first. Also, shield-spells in combat magic are usually proof against a number of attack-spells. I shall be carrying several loaded pistols for the purpose of casting several spells in succession. This should be sufficient for the number of spells I will be facing.”

  “Very good, Lord.” The commander’s expression said that he feared the situation to be somewhat less than very good.

  When they arrived at the point where the repair-crew was finishing the repairing of the line that had been broken, the time was late afternoon. “What now, Lord?” asked Commander Cargiodd. “If you won’t be able to reveal their tracks, how do we proceed?”

  Carrtog smiled. “Perhaps I misled you a little, Commander. The spell they used will only take effect where there is a track to be hidden. I have added a touch to my counter-spell, something that not only counters the spell but also adds a slight touch of dark blue to every place where the spell had taken effect. No, you needn’t worry about the rebels suddenly noticing that they all have a touch of dark blue; the color will only be visible to those wearing the uniform of Cragmor.”

  He paused. “On the other hand, the magician out there, if he has any sort of competence at all, will know when his magic has been dispelled. I doubt very much whether we will be able to come on them unawares. On the other hand, I doubt that they will be able to conceal a proper ambush. Just as their magician will know that I’ve dispelled his invisibility spell, I will know if he has been able to deal with my little color-effect. If he does, I have a spell or two in mind to deal with ambushes.”

  Carrtog chose a spot which seemed the most likely place for the rebels to have entered the wood, assuming that their camp was somewhere to the northeast of the railway line. He fired a pistol without a ball into the air, speaking the appropriate incantation, and looked around.

  For a time he saw nothing, then just a little off in the wood, he saw a dark blue spot. Hiding the traces of about thirty men on horseback was a difficult matter. A lot could be done in that direction, but there were always traces that escaped.

  He pointed it out to the commander. “There we are. Start our men on the track, Commander. I’ll clean and load this pistol, just in case I need it for another spell.”

  Shortly thereafter, the first elements of the force, a pair of scouts, were advancing along the marked track. Commander Cargiodd allowed them to get a bit of a lead on the main body, then led the rest of the force up behind them.

  Marching through the wood in late springtime was a different proposition from their previous marches; it was warmer for one thing, and the smells of springtime were far more pleasant than those of winter.

  It was still springtime, though, which meant that their day’s march would have to be curtailed by the early approach of night. Their scouts had orders to seek for a good camping-spot, preferably before dark made it impossible to ensure that the enemy had not left any nasty little surprises there.

  Suddenly, in the middle of the night, Carrtog felt a feeling as if a band around his chest had been released. He turned to talk to Yakor, only to recall that his armsman was not with him. If the older man had been present, he would have said, “The rebels’ magician has just countered my spell. Of course, that only means the blue marks on the trail are gone, not that the rebels are invisible again.”

  In the morning, Commander Cargiodd was annoyed to be informed that the blue traces of the enemies’ passage had disappeared.

  “I was expecting as much,” Carrtog said. “I had a feeling that the rebel magician was reasonably competent. However, I have another plan in mind. Having tracked their magician by use of bits of his spell-craft, I will now cast a spell directing me to the one who cast the spells himself.”

  Commander Cargiodd frowned. “Why did you not begin with that spell instead of using those bits of blue color, Lord?”

  “Because this spell is somewhat more difficult and may not work at all.”

  “Have you a plan in mind, then, in case this spell does not work?”

  “Of course.” He smiled more confidently than he felt.

  Shortly thereafter he set his spell, using a flash of burned powder rather than a pistol shot. “There’s no telling how near they are, and there’s no sense in firing a shot to warn them of our presence.” He told the commander.

  Almost immediately a broad green line showed on the forest. “They won’t be able to see this, either, will they, Lord?” The commander was clearly a little worried.

  “No, not until the magician discovers what I’ve done, which he may very well do sometime before the day is out. In that case, I shall have to take other measures.”

  How magnificently confident you sound, he told himself.

  The commander, mirroring Carrtog’s feigned self-confidence, gave abrupt and concise orders, getting the troops on the way with little wasted time.

  The scouts, having been given some time to take up their positions, slipped up along the marked trail with a commendable lack of noise. The main body followed along as quietly as possible, but being a large number of men and horses with all their accouterments complete silence was near impossible.

&n
bsp; Near midmorning, the green trail disappeared with no warning.

  The scouts, however, had followed the practice of marking their own trail with bent branches or tied tufts of grass at intervals so the force continued along the trail with hardly a pause.

  Carrtog, whose ring was continuing to warn him of danger, wondered how matters were going back in the town. He considered using his communicator to get in touch with Yakor, but put the thought aside for two reasons. Firstly, they were attempting to do a silent march, and secondly, what if he called Yakor just as his man were in a dangerous situation where he was trying to remain hidden?

  A few moments later one of the scouts, all his horse’s harness muffled with rags and his own metal equipment similarly silenced, appeared before them.

  “The trail’s gone, Lords, but we got close enough before that to be able to hear sounds from their camp. They started to quiet down right quick, though, most like because someone figured we might be getting close. Besides that, they’d started to get a bit careless about leaving traces by then, being almost home as they were. If they don’t send someone out to find my partner, we ought to be able to come on them nearly by surprise. If they do send someone out to find him, he figures to fire a pistol-shot to let you know.”

  “Thank you,” Carrtog said. “Commander, let us carry on.”

  So they carried on.

  They finally reached the second scout, with no pistol-shots having been fired, and he gave a quick outline of how the enemy camp was laid out; he had been able to creep up close enough to look at them without having been seen himself.

  Carrtog and Commander Cargiodd set up a quick plan of attack; Carrtog would use no spells immediately, waiting to see what the enemy magician could come up with first. His response would depend on what the enemy did.

  He knew that responding to the enemy was not good tactics, but he wanted some further idea of what the enemy magician was capable of before he did any serious magic.