by Greg Curtis
“Fifty people at a time go through ceremony. Then you'll be allowed to sleep for one or two days in the temple, depending on how strong you are. After that, once you're awake, the soldiers will take your names and the details of the spells you've acquired.” That was the other thing the King had insisted on. Record keeping. It undermined the value of the temple to them since one of the things that Hendrick had always said was that the priests wouldn't seek to use them. The King however did. Therefore, records had to be kept.
“You will be expected to go through this procedure at least six times or until you have twenty spells.” There was a collective gasp at that. Most of these people had only a single spell or two. Twenty was an unimaginable number to them. An unimaginable number of unwanted spells. They weren't like her and the others who had volunteered for the ceremony.
That was wrong. For her it had been an adventure. There had been excitement and hope. A chance that she would acquire some spells she wanted. These people had none of that. Only the promise of a musket ball if they refused or tried to run. They were slaves by another name.
“The only good thing I can tell you about this is that it's safe and that you are already afflicted according to most people. One spell or twenty won't change that. It also may be that some of the new spells will be useful to you when this is ended. Maybe some of them you'll be able to be provide for a fee.” The King might have stopped adding new spells to his list of those which their people could charge for, but he hadn't changed his mind about the ones that had already been approved. It might only be that he was too busy with other matters, but there was still a hope that things wouldn't go back to how they had been when this crisis was ended.
“Those who have acquired spells that may be effective against the behemoth's servants, will be formed into special groups that my friend Tyrollan is preparing. Groups of four who will be sent to guard the cities. Those who have other useful warspells, and who are fit enough, will join various military groups. Patrols, infantry, city guards. Others like those with spells of healing, will be conscripted into civilian cadres. And those who have no useful spells will be allowed to return home.”
But what were the chances she thought that someone could gain twenty spells and not one of them would be useful? And what were the chances that when their twenty were up, the King wouldn't change his mind again and they'd have to keep on going? She didn't tell them that though. They had enough to worry about.
“And before you ask, neither I nor Tyrollan are your gaolers. We haven't been exempted from the conscription either. You can run if you choose. We won't stop you. But the soldiers know your names and your home towns.” She let her gaze fall. “I'm sorry.”
“Now if you'll come with me, I'll show you to a place where you can get some food and can wash up.”
That said, she headed toward the ground floor of the barracks and then led them inside to where the kitchen and lounge were.
It wasn't a proud place she thought. It was rough and very humble. And the rest was worse. Off to the side of the lounge were two dormitories, where they could see cots almost jammed up hard against one another. It was the only way they could fit everyone in.
Marnie doubted they'd be impressed with their accommodations. Most of them probably had had houses however humble, before they'd been conscripted. And most of those houses would have been in better condition than the barracks. At the least their floors would have been polished and the walls painted. But at least it kept the rain off their heads and the wind from blowing through their hair. Sure enough, when she turned around, she didn't see any smiles on their faces. And this, though they didn't know it yet, was the best accommodation they had!
Adawain though was there to pour them a mug of hot tea and give them a hunk of bread each. Food at least wasn't in short supply. The King was making sure that the essentials were provided. And though they didn't have anywhere near enough furniture for everyone, they had cushions to make sitting on the floor a little easier. Some of them she suspected, might end up sleeping on those cushions.
But as Adawain attended to their immediate needs she noticed something unusual. Monks wandering about the nearer of the sleeping chambers, tending to the sleepers. That was new. And their habits struck her as slightly unusual. For a start, their cowls were pointed and peaked. She didn't remember having seen that before. And the colour was off too. It wasn't the light grey favoured by the Temple of the Benevolent One.
Curious she went to see, but then stopped at the doorway when she noticed something else that was strange about them – their hands. She could only see the monks from the back as they crowded around several of the beds, but their hands had fingers that were too long and the skin was a touch too tanned. Something about that worried her.
“Hello?” She called out to them from the doorway, not wanting to enter any further into the chamber.
A couple of them turned around.
“Dung!” Their hoods were up but there was still enough light to see the sharpness of their cheek bones and the angled plains of their faces. The little crystal amulets hanging around their necks. They were the visitors!
“Miss Holdwright,” the man stepped forward and might have even managed a small smile – it was hard to be certain with his face – “it is welcome to see you again.”
“And you ...” She searched for a name and finally remembered that she didn't have one. He'd never given them a name. None of them had. “… Sir.”
“Tar Indle Var Marson. You may call me Indle.” This time he did smile – she was sure of it. “I noticed last time that you have a habit of only using first names.”
“It's … ah … usual.” She found herself struggling to think of an answer. And that annoyed her. She wasn't normally so lacking in words. “And if I may ask, what are you doing here?” Him and the half dozen others, she noticed. More than before.
“Offering sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary?” Somehow that wasn't what she had expected to hear. Ever. They were dressed as monks, so she could have expected that they were caring for the ill or ministering to the needs of the fearful. But sanctuary?
“We spoke to Prince Mountforth, and he explained the situation your people face. And though he did not accept our offer for himself, he suggested that others might. And as you can see, many have.”
He gestured around the chamber, and she noticed that most of the beds were empty. But what did that mean, she wondered? It was the middle of the day, and these people weren't sleeping after having just absorbed their latest spells. Many were probably in the city, shopping for what they needed or simply exploring the Hold. But one thing she did understand. This was Hendrick's doing – again! Marnie resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands, but only just. Why did he insist on turning the entire world arse backwards every so often?
She took a deep breath. “And what is this sanctuary you offer?”
“A place in our realm of course. Where we will agree to welcome your people, and train them properly in their magic. This will of course allow the taint to pass from them in time and they will no longer be marked. And of course, they will not be expected to enlist in an army or fight any battles. They will be treated with respect too.”
“I see.” And she did see. She saw that an awful lot of their people were going to accept the offer. That was going to cause them problems. For her and Tyrollan anyway.
“You know of course that there is a civil war brewing, and that both sides are attempting to turn our people into magical soldiers? This will shift the balance of power and leave us vulnerable. To Daylon and the beast's servants.”
“We know. We have others working in Dumas Line, offering the same choice. And more of our people are in your other cities. As to the beast, we did not create it nor bring it to your world, and are in no way responsible for its actions. But we will leave some of your people, those who choose to remain, with some magic that will help you defend yourself against its servants. The Behemoth however, cannot b
e fought.
The sage had said the same thing she recalled. But in any case, anything that could bring a volcano with it across worlds, was probably too powerful to fight. But that wasn't her concern, Marnie thought. Hers was her people, and the King's plans.
“You seem to have considered this carefully.”
“We have. Again, Prince Mountforth despite the brevity of his words, provided us with an excellent idea. Someone who could guide us.”
No sooner had he said it than that someone turned around, lowered her hood and Marnie was given the answer to the question she hadn't had time to ask.
“Lady Peri?” She couldn't believe it. And yet even as she stood there staring at her, she realised it was actually a clever idea. The Lady was extremely knowledgeable about everything that was happening in the realm. No doubt she had come up with the plan. But it was dangerous to trust her. Lady Peri had been the power behind the throne, or one of them at least. And now it seemed she was still determined to meddle in affairs of the realm. This time though it was in favour of the afflicted. But why? Her motivation was anything but clear.
“Marnie, child! It's just Peri. After I got rid of that bespawling mumblecrust who thought he was my husband I lost both my title and my surname. I feel so much lighter now!” She managed a smile, which strangely enough might have been genuine. “These days I'm just a simple business woman.”
Simple? Somehow Marnie doubted she would ever be a simple anything. And the fact that she could openly call her former husband the King such names said she had a lot more influence in the Court's hallways than she suggested. Anyone else would be in irons if they said such a thing. Or was it, she suddenly wondered, that the king having once tried to murder her, simply wouldn't dare to do it again? After all, he already had one wife who was a traitor fleeing his forces, a second who had betrayed him in the marital bed, and a third who had turned out to be a monster. He wasn't just unlucky in love lately. He was cursed by the Goat Footed God. At the rate things were going he might soon have no wives left at all.
“And this is what a simple business woman does?”
“Helping people in need? I should hope so. If she wants to remain in business.”
What business did she run, Marnie wondered? Hendrick had said something about owning property, but little more. And much of that property had been in Styrion Might. It was gone and it wasn't coming back. But then she supposed Hendrick was bringing her more gold just as he was bringing it to them. Gold could buy a lot of businesses.
And what was Hendrick doing? He had gone out to find the bronze people – and he had apparently found them. But he hadn't mentioned anything about this. She decided to ask.
“Hendrick set out to find us?” Indle sounded surprised.
“Well … he found you – didn't he?” Marnie would have thought that was obvious.
“Actually, we found him,” the man answered her. “Or we thought we did.” His stare became more intense. “Tell me, what else has he tried to keep from us?”
Marnie could only throw her hands up in the air and stare helplessly at him. She didn't know. How could she? She didn't even know what he'd told them. But she doubted that Indle would be pleased with any response she gave. So she turned her attention to what mattered.
“These magical defences; are they effective?”
“Very. You must understand that we have been dealing with the dangers of behemoths for a very long time. And while the great beasts themselves are too powerful to be fought, their servants can be easily defeated.”
“What we have are ward stones. They are very powerful. They will confuse the simple minds of the creatures and turn them around. You simply place one at the top of the most central building in each city, and they will not approach.”
“They will drive off the ghost dragons?” She wasn't sure she could believe that having seen them for herself.
“They are neither ghosts nor dragons,” he smiled at her as if she was a child who had said something foolish, “and yes, the ward stones will drive them off.”
“They are extremely powerful creatures.” Marnie tried again. She wasn't at all sure that any rock, warded or otherwise, would stop them.
“But they have no minds. No more than the fleas that live on the back of a hound. And that is more or less what our sages believe they are. They may be big and the beast may be able to control them, but it is still all they are.”
“Can we bring our families to your world?” A man – Ter – she thought his name was – who was sitting on one of the cots abruptly broke in on the conversation, ending the awkwardness.
“Yes.”
“Then I'll accept your offer.”
“But you don't know what you'll find.” Marnie jumped in, and then was instantly overcome by a wave of loathing for herself for taking the side of the soldiers. But it was the truth. And Ter had to know that.
Ter unexpectedly raised the leg of his trousers to show her the extent of the blue lines that ran up his leg. “I have seventeen spells now. I can control the world of water in so many ways. Bring water from the depths to arid pastures. Let it flow away easily when there's flooding. Call a water elemental to toil in the fields. When I started on this journey I thought that one day I could become someone. A wizard like you said. Someone who could be welcomed in my home town. Now not only is that not going to happen, I've become a slave to the King. In another week he'll throw me into his army to fight and die.”
“I don't want to do that. And I don't want my family to suffer any more for my affliction.” He stood up and turned to the woman beside him. “Can you take me back to my home please?”
The woman nodded and in a heartbeat both of them were gone. In that moment Marnie knew they were in trouble. Because very few were going to choose to remain in Styrion. And when the King found out, he was going to be angry. But what could she do? What did she even want to do? The answer when it came down to it, was nothing. This was the end of her dream of Altanis. It was probably also the end of Hendrick's hope of a guild. But those weren’t the choices of most of the afflicted. Perhaps this was the start of something new and better for their people. It had to be better than slavery.
“I'm going to pour myself a cup of tea, while you see to your business.” She turned to leave the doorway, but then stopped herself and turned back. “And you should know that we also have about a dozen houses, a warehouse and there are many more of our people in the Temple of the Benevolent One. Lady Peri can no doubt give you the details of them.”
With that she left, thinking she really needed that tea. More importantly she needed to think of something to tell Tyrollan when he awoke. But on the positive side she thought, their over-crowding problem appeared to have been resolved!
Chapter Thirty Two.
Progress on rebuilding his house was slow. After an entire week of construction, he had only the uprights in place and concreted. At this rate Hendrick thought, it would be another six months before his home was rebuilt. But at least it was progress. It was also peaceful. Hendrick needed peace. Which made it all the stranger that he had Val with him.
“By all the honoured ancestors – there's more errors!” The sage called out to him, as he read through the translations of the rubbings from the temples he'd visited. He'd been complaining about them almost from the start – unhappy despite the fact that Hendrick had gone to the Temple and asked especially for them to prepare a copy of their translations just for the sage. He’d even placed two dozen massive sheets of parchment on the ground just so Val could read them. He had no gratitude.
“You know, you don't have to read them. I could send you back,” Hendrick told him wearily. He was growing tired of listening to Val's complaints.
“Or you could get better translators, and then go out exploring. There are more temples and obelisks out there just waiting for you to discover them.”
“Maybe later.” Hendrick eyed up the floor support carefully against the water level, determined to make sure it was
level, and then finally marked it. The first time he had built his house he had been a little too hasty in some of his measurements and as a result the floor had been a little uneven. This time he intended to make sure that didn't happen again. “Besides, they all say the same thing – in different scripts.”
“Not necessarily. And think what we could learn!” Val protested. “It's been nearly two weeks and you haven't been anywhere. Instead you just went back to your home and started rebuilding this burnt-out wreck of a house.”
“You mean what you could learn!” Hendrick reached for the saw and laid it up against the mark he'd just made. “You know I didn't understand any of it.”
That wasn't actually true. He had understood a little of what was written on those huge sheets of parchment. Not the details of the mathematical equations perhaps, and not the star positions that they used to place each world, but the gist of the text at least. And it was actually interesting. The creators of those ancient temples hadn't been doing anything as useful as writing great passages of ancient history for him to read, but they still contained some knowledge of the history of their worlds. Together the writings suggested that there was great realm that spread across a great many worlds. Or at least there had been.