A Bitter Brew

by Greg Curtis

  “I will. But you need to go too. The others can handle this, and you're in no shape to help them.”

  She was right he knew. The others were handling things. The Mythagan were everywhere, more than the half dozen he remembered seeing before. Where had they come from? The gifted were also with them, guiding people, handing out supplies, giving instructions and trying to keep the worst of the smoke from them. He hadn't noticed any of that happening. Things were starting to slip. But he suddenly remembered there was something else he had to do.

  “You should probably tell the King that the war's ended. I finished it an hour or three ago.” He wasn't actually sure of how long it had been. There had been so many different rates of time flowing lately that things had become confused.

  “What?”

  “I went to Dumas Line and forced Marda and her sons to go through the ceremony in front of their soldiers. They're all afflicted now. None of them can become King. That should end the rebellion.”

  His mother stared at him for a while after that, thinking. What she was thinking about he didn't know or care. All he wanted was to sleep. Already things were slipping. Time was passing without him knowing. And his eyelids were so heavy.

  Then even as his mother stared at him in disbelief, Hendrick’s eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  It was a strange thing staring back at the Hold these days Marnie thought. Because it wasn't a city any longer. At least she didn’t think so. Because all she could see – all anybody could see – was a giant black ball of glass where the city had once been. A crystal ball such as wizards were once said to use.

  The sages said it was just smoke, impossibly thick smoke, bound up inside the barrier the great beast had created. That the city might well be completely intact inside it, other than where the fumaroles had risen out of the ground. But the smoke was so thick, and the barrier shimmered so much – just like the one in Styrion Might had – that it caused it to look like a giant crystal ball in the distance. A play thing perhaps, that a giant might enjoy. The thing was immense. A league and a bit across, another league high, and she assumed, more of it under the ground. Even from where she sat, the best part of two leagues away from the city, it was too large to really understand.

  It must have been even more overwhelming from where the people were camped in the open fields in front of it. Even after five days, tens of thousands of people were still in the area. Waiting for something perhaps. Looking for missing loved ones maybe. Unsure of where they should go. Or simply too tired or too ill to start marching. Meanwhile she and the rest of their people were simply waiting as they debated various plans for their future. Or rather, they debated them while she sat out on a hill staring at a giant black crystal ball day after day.

  What was happening inside the giant ball? She wondered about that a lot. Was something happening in it? Or was it just dead? She didn't know. No one did as far as she could tell. Not even the Mythagan knew. Their magic could not pass through the barrier, and only a world walker – or so she assumed – could peer inside it from another realm. They still had only one, and he wasn't with them any longer.

  Hendrick had gone home, back to Burbage, to restore his centre he said. She wasn't completely sure she knew what that meant. At first she'd thought he was talking about rebuilding his house. He moaned about it having been burnt down so much after all. But he'd said no. That it wasn't anything to do with construction. It was about him. And that of course had made no sense. But he was a Vitanna worshipping sot after all.

  Still, she understood enough to know that she never wanted to do to herself what Hendrick had done. The spells she understood. All of the gifted – the mages as the Mythagan called them – understood that spells had to be used. Practised. That it was the way they became a part of you. But the other part? Accepting bits of the ancient wizard’s soul into yourself? That she didn't understand. In fact it scared her. She had a lot of spells herself. Had they come with the thoughts of another ancient wizard? She didn't know. But the very idea of having to fight just to be who you were was terrifying. Then again, maybe Hendrick was drunk and was just be the ale talking. Vitanna's mist descending behind his eyes.

  On the other hand, the markings he had were shocking. She'd seen them when the healers had been tending to him. Now they weren’t just on his left arm and running up to his face. They covered nearly every inch of him. They ran up his arm, across his body, and down both his legs. The entire left side of his chest was a tangle of lines so thick that they were almost a solid block of sparkling grey. His back was the same. And nearly everything else was lined. All that was free of the markings was the right side of his face, his right arm, and his right leg below the knee.

  How many spells had he absorbed she wondered? Hundreds? And what did that do to a man? To his very essence? She couldn't even begin to guess. So who was she to say it couldn't have imparted the alien thoughts he claimed?

  “It's almost pretty isn't it.” Tyrollan abruptly sat down beside her on the hill top looking back at the city. “If you don't think about what it is. And however many people lie dead inside it.”

  “There shouldn't be many,” she answered, hoping she was right. The truth was that they didn't know. In the end they'd had fourteen hours to escape. And in those fourteen hours vast numbers of people had passed through the portals. By the end when the last few had come through choking and coughing, barely able to breathe, the torrent of people had become a trickle. But was that because there were few people left? Or because those who remained in the city had grown too weak to stagger to the portal? Had they simply fallen and slowly died where they lay? There was no way of knowing. Even those who had made it through couldn't tell them. All they could say was that those they'd been trying to save had disappeared towards the end. The smoke had made it hard to know what had happened to them. It would have been a truly horrible death.

  Tyrollan didn't answer her she noticed. And perhaps silence was the best answer there could be. So instead she turned the conversation to the reason she was certain he had come.

  “You're wanting to leave?” Marnie asked. “To start building the Guild again?”

  Of course he was. They all were. It was why as well as the thousands or tens of thousands of other people who had escaped the Hold and who were now camped out on the fields in front of them, there were hundreds of their people as well. The gifted as they were still trying to call themselves. Or the mages as the Mythagan seemed to want to call them.

  “Yes.” He nodded. “Nothing has changed. The beast is still here. It still threatens us all. Tarius only knows where and when it will strike next. Outside of the cities with their wards, we gifted are still the only defence against its servants. And in accepting that role we still lift ourselves above just being afflicted. It helps all of our people. Those who choose to stay in Styrion. All who have homes in Styrion, families and places they don't want to leave. Whether they choose to fight or not. It is the best option.”

  “I know.” It wasn't really the best option they had so much as it was the only one. Because a lot of their people didn't want to go with the Mythagan. As far as they could tell the numbers leaving roughly matched the numbers staying – now that the King had ended his conscription. In time she hoped, as conditions for their people in Styrion improved, some of those who had left would return. Maybe they would finally start building Hendrick's guild.

  “And I suppose you have a destination in mind.” It wasn't a question. She knew he did and she knew what it was. She just wished he'd change his mind.

  “Burbage.”

  “Damn!” Marnie shook her head, wishing he hadn't said that. Even though she'd known it was coming. She didn't want to go there. She didn't want to see Hendrick again. If possible she would have preferred to forget he even existed. It wasn't just because he annoyed her and seemed to delight in making her life difficult. It was because he made her uneasy. Every time she looked at those markings an
d especially that sparkling grey eye of his, something inside her almost shrivelled up.

  “There are other places we could go.”

  “Burbage is a temple town. And Hendrick was right; we want to keep using the Temple of the Benevolent One for the ceremonies. It has one of the largest abbeys for many leagues. And Hendrick is there. Whether we like it or not, he has become a lightning rod for our people. He will attract many of the gifted where you and I cannot. If this guild is ever to be born, he will be its midwife. And he has the stature to get the word out to our people about the danger of absorbing too many spells and the need for the meditations. People will listen to him.”

  “Please don't ever say that again.”

  “Say what?” Tyrollan asked.

  “That Hendrick was right!” It wasn't much of an attempt at humour. In fact, she didn't consider it that amusing at all. But at least it drew a smile from the ever serious Tyrollan. He was too serious she thought. Always considering the choices he had before him. And yet she respected that. He was she was beginning to realise, good for her.

  Tyrollan didn't respond. Normally he'd lecture her a little about needing to be more tolerant. Even of the muck-spouting disciple of Vitanna. Or worse he'd remind her that she owed her life to Hendrick. This time though, he seemed to have more important things on his mind. Things like moving to Burbage.

  But in sooth did they have to actually be in Burbage for Hendrick to bother them? She didn't think so. Now thanks to his magic, he seemed to be able to run from one city to another in a matter of minutes. A spell that was also adding to his reputation. He was fast becoming their source of news for the realm. Only yesterday he had brought the news that Lady Marda and her entire family had fled Dumas Line. That the King had almost reached Styrion Hearth. And that things still seemed quiet in Styrion Might even after the beast's recent attack.

  And why had the King decided to go to the Hearth anyway? That was another question that kept plaguing her. She understood that it was a large city. That while it had no walls, that didn't matter. Walls had been proven to be useless. And now had a ward stone. But still it had been attacked and suffered considerable damage. And it was a city of farmers! But the King wasn't going to share his thinking with her on that or any other matter.

  “We will probably also be safer in a small town,” Tyrollan continued. “The beast thus far has been attacking cities. Though his servants do attack smaller towns they don't completely destroy them. And there's so many of them they can't attack them all. They also seem to be quiet at the moment.”

  Probably because Hendrick had slaughtered a score of the beast’s servants at once, she thought. Though she hated to admit it even to herself, he was becoming a truly dangerous man. One with a spell for every occasion.

  “And Sana is also there,” Tyrollan continued. “When she's well she may be able to tell us things about her master.”

  Be able to? Maybe. But Marnie knew she wouldn't even if she could. She hated everyone but her master. There was no reasoning with her. And she wasn't actually in Burbage either. She was currently in the twilight world. The part of it that corresponded to Burbage. But for some reason Hendrick kept visiting her, bringing her food and water. He claimed when he visited, that away from the influence of the great beast, she was slowly improving. That her mind was becoming clearer. Personally Marnie doubted it. The woman was insane.

  “It's a political decision too.” Lady Peri unexpectedly arrived and sat down on Marnie's other side. “My former husband is a spent force. He will not hold the throne much longer. The only thing keeping him on it now is that Marthan is a simpleton like his mother.”

  Lady Simone! Marnie had to suppress a smile at Lady Peri's injudicious words. Mostly because even though it was not the sort of thing anyone should say out loud, she knew it was true. She had met the new First Wife only once. It had been as they had been helping people to set off on their journeys from the Hold to wherever they were going. She wouldn't describe her as a simpleton though. More as someone who had no firm grasp of the world. The woman was beautiful. There was no doubt of that. Even now that she was surely heading into her seventies she could have passed for fifty. And when she smiled it was as though the sun had come out. But then she'd opened her mouth to speak and it became evident that she had no grasp on reality. How could a woman living through a crisis such as this start asking how many ball gowns she should bring with her and where her maids had got to! After all someone had to help her with her wardrobe!

  “But he will have to divorce her soon and disinherit their sons,” Lady Peri continued. “The Court will insist. They cannot have a dullard on the throne – another dullard that is! That'll be five wives he’s lost in a matter of months! My poor, poor former husband. He does seem to be running through wives lately!” Lady Peri did her best to look a little sorrowful as she said it, but anyone could have seen the smile desperately trying to lift the corners of her mouth up.

  “You said it was political Lady Peri?” Marnie tried to steer things back to a more respectful conversation before things began to sound like treason. A lot of things were being called treasonous these days. It would be best not to say anything that could get back to the King.

  “Yes, of course. If you want to keep yourselves from being turned into indentured servants and then dragged down in the miasma of a dotard’s flailing rule, then Burbage is the place to be.”

  “Your pardon?” Marnie was shocked that the former Fifth Wife could state that so openly and looked around quickly to make sure no one could hear them. Luckily no one was nearby.

  “Oster is desperate to cling on to power however he can for as long as he can.” Lady Peri continued, apparently completely untroubled by the thought that someone might overhear her. “After so many terrible errors of judgement he can't count on the support of the Court. The army's broken and demoralised. Many of them were on the wrong side of the civil war, and can't be trusted. He's lost two cities and hundreds of thousands are dead. Worst of all the people are laughing about him behind his back; and some even to his face.”

  “Cuckolded by one wife, divorced by another. A third's started a rebellion against him and then there's the monster he married. If you wanted to paint a picture of fecklessness and poor judgement you would have him sit for the artist!”

  “He desperately needs something – anything – to restore some confidence in his rule. A victory would help. So far he's had two extremely narrow escapes from complete disaster. He’s lost two cities doing it, attacked our allies, and barely avoided losing his throne to a rebellion by his own son in the process. Without the Court, the people or the army behind him, he needs support from elsewhere.”

  Your people are poised to become a power in the realm in time. Having tried to conscript them he can now no longer count on their support. And since the Mythagan have begun meddling, he's lost any hope of forcing it.”

  “That's why he stopped the conscription. It had nothing to do with justice and the end of the war meaning. Just the plain fact that if he kept the conscription going, your people would simply leave and he would be left with nothing.”

  “Without you all he has left is Hendrick. The most powerful mage in the land, his son and a hero. He could give him an official title – Court Wizard maybe – and a role in the Court since he's relaxed the laws for your people. Keep him nearby and use him as a reminder to his enemies that he still has at least one powerful ally. But if Hendrick's in Burbage, that can't happen. Obviously the King can't move to a small farming town. So his only option is to issue a decree demanding Hendrick's attendance at his side. By now he's already got the papers drawn up and is just waiting for the right moment.”

  “But what does he do if Hendrick refuses? Arrest him? Demand his obedience? He can't. Because how can you force the hand of someone who could be anywhere in the blink of an eye? Trying to do it would just expose his impotence. And if your people are based in Burbage with Hendrick joining you in some sort of official capacity, O
ster has another problem. It would be seen as him dragging his son away from his duties – another mistake when the realm is at war with the Great Beast. Likewise Hendrick's being there is a justification you can use for not being based in Styrion Hearth where he could simply call on your services as he needs. Hendrick is needed to lead you.”

  Lead them?! Marnie's teeth abruptly grated together as she heard the appalling term. She so wanted to tell the Lady that Hendrick did not and never would lead them. But she held her tongue despite the gall rising in her throat. She understood what Lady Peri was saying and she didn't want to offend an ally. They needed all their allies. Even the ones she didn't trust.

  “In simple terms you're stronger together when it comes to standing against the King's will. But he will still try to bend you to his will if he sees a chance. Especially as you start to gain influence in the realm. Never forget that.”

  Was the Lady actually suggesting they should defy the King, Marnie wondered? She might be. There was something very wrong with Lady Peri, she thought. Even when she was no longer part of the royal household, the only thing she seemed to think about was power and appearance. About exacting some sort of revenge on those she obviously considered had wronged her. Why wasn't she simply happy with what she had? After all she'd already had her revenge on Lady Marda. Why not simply forget the rest and concentrate on living a good life? Besides, what she was saying, even if it was right, sounded treasonous. To desert the King's side in war time? That was wrong.