Pan Taros seemed to shrink in stature for a moment as he heard Hemlock’s words, but then he rose straight again. Looking back at Tored, he turned back to face the crowd, which had again broken out into a charged murmuring.
"Silence!" cried the King again.
This time the hall was quickly silenced. Hemlock noticed that many in the crowd seemed to look at their companions with some alacrity.
"It seems that we must return to the old ways in order to determine whether the words of this outlander are true. We all know the legend of the Witch. Seal the hall!" commanded the King.
Warriors quickly moved to block the double doors through which the group had entered.
"All women, please open your mouths and present your tongues, according to the old ways," commanded the King gravely.
Hemlock looked around, confused, as the women in the room proceeded to do just that. Men quickly passed from woman to woman inspecting their mouths. It all seemed quite odd to Hemlock and her friends.
The warrior who had escorted them to the hall stepped forcefully in front of Hemlock.
"You must open your mouth. It is said that the Witch can possess women. When she does so, she is undetectable, save for her forked tongue. You must show me your tongue," instructed the Guard.
Hemlock glanced to Safreon, shrugged her shoulders, and then opened her mouth.
The Guard was quickly satisfied and moved to inspect another.
Hemlock was about to comment on the absurdity of what she had just done, when a woman, in the middle of the crowd, surged into the air, writhing violently.
"NO! It cannot be!" cried Pan Taros, the King, losing his composure.
A smartly dressed woman levitated in agony over the crowd.
"The Witch!" cried many voices.
"The King’s sister, Marta!" cried others.
"I AM LIGHTNING!" boomed out a voice from the levitating figure so loudly that Hemlock doubted that any noise in the world could have drowned it out.
As those words were heard, two incredible things happened simultaneously: a searing bolt of energy thundered from the writhing body of the woman toward the ceiling–and her body, a frail vessel unable to remain intact under that level of force, tore apart into many pieces, showering blood, flesh, guts and smoldering fragments of her garments all over the crowd below.
Hemlock put a hand to her sabre, but it was all over so quickly as to render the action moot. She looked up to the ceiling of the chamber and there was a hole burnt into it from the passing of the strange lightning. She could see the stars overhead, through the hole.
Looking back to the stage above, she saw that the King, Pan Taros, had fallen into an inconsolable state. He was being dragged into the shadowy wings of the upper chamber by Tored. Taros Ranvok, tears streaming down his face, stood as if transfixed by the spectacle of what had just happened and the reaction of the crowd below, which was just starting to break its silence with screams and cries.
His eyes happened to meet Hemlock’s. Many things passed between them as their eyes met–even over the intervening distance. His affection for her was naked in that glance, but the sympathy in her eyes was not intermingled with an amorous quality, and he clearly perceived that. His eyes became even sadder, if that was possible, but his expression changed to one of acceptance and he nodded to Hemlock kindly. She felt like her heart might burst from her chest with guilt.
…
Hemlock and Safreon sat together in the clock tower of a church located in the center of the Warrens. Hemlock, who was just newly coming into her womanly figure, looked around her at the now non-working clock, and the bell, which had several long cracks in it and no longer rung true. The church was still used, but no longer enjoyed a large or passionate group of followers and supporters.
Hemlock scanned the streets below, looking for crime or other issues which would warrant a response from her and Safreon. It was early evening, when most acts of mischief–or worse–tended to occur.
Hemlock moved over a few rafters to peer from the eastern face of the tower. In the distance loomed the Wizard Tower, an imposing looking edifice rising over the Warrens. It featured a number of large windows that were flat at the bottom and curved to a peak at the top. It was a wide tower; tall, but not delicate. It covered a large area at the center of the City.
"Safreon, did you ever wonder why the Wizard Tower is at the center of the City along with the Senate building?" she asked.
Safreon took a moment to respond as he puffed on a pipe, then dumped the ash over the side of an opening in the wall of the tower. He watched the ashes flutter to the street below.
"I've studied the history of the City, and before the reign of the Imperator, I believe that the Wizard Tower may have been the first building in the City, predating the Wizard Guild," he stated.
"Really? The Guild didn't build the Tower?" Hemlock asked, surprised.
"No, I don't think that they did. Surely they added to it by changing the interior, perhaps adding the protections and wards. From what I can put together, and it's difficult, because the Imperator tried to destroy all traces of the written history of the City prior to his reign, there was a reclusive Wizard of great power who originally built the Tower. Some believe that he created the special shifting properties of the land upon which he built it. Others believe that he identified the unique properties of the land and managed to migrate here and found the City." Safreon packed his pipe with more tobacco.
Hemlock noticed a group of First Circle wizards that were moving drunkenly through the Warrens. Hemlock pointed them out to Safreon. She thought that it had been unusual for them to emerge from the Tower in plain sight, as she had seen them do an hour earlier; but as the martial arm of the wizards, she figured that they must be allowed out to partake of certain indulgences which the other wizards did not. After inspecting them for a time, and judging their actions to be relatively benign, Hemlock returned her attention to her conversation with Safreon.
"Safreon, do you think the City is a good place or an evil place?" she asked.
"Both, I would say," he responded lightly.
"Well, you must be interested in this topic considering that you devote so much time to trying to combat evil."
"I have given it some passing thought," he mused mysteriously.
"Safreon...come on," Hemlock cooed in response.
Putting his pipe down, Safreon turned to her.
"We all have good and evil within us. Therefore, the City, and in fact all places that I have experienced, are both good and evil, in direct measure to the people that exist there. Good and evil are opposites; in fact they are measured against one another. Good actions often require evil actions in order to be deemed good by comparison. If there was only good, then good ... well it wouldn't really be good anymore–it would just ... be."
Hemlock was silent as she thought about his words.
Safreon picked up his pipe and puffed theatrically. "That being said, there are a lot of harmful actions in the City. It's easy to despair and think that we live in an evil place. But there is much good here that goes unnoticed: the doting mother who struggles to feed her children and thinks only of them and not of herself, the Priest who carries on in this rundown Church even though he is little more than a pauper himself, yourself, trying to make the Warrens safer for your sister and others. These are all people who commit acts of compassion and self-sacrifice that stand in contrast to the evil deeds that often occur here."
"But what does it matter if there are good acts if the evil is stronger; if there are more acts of evil than there are good?" Hemlock countered.
"Listen, I think that everyone is on a spiritual journey, whether they believe that or not. The evil is harmful because it can distract people from a virtuous path. But so-called goodness can be just as dangerous. I've lived in places in times of plenty, before I came to the City. So-called good places are often just as fertile a breeding ground for lack of virtue as evil places. People become lazy, th
ey become greedy, and they become insensitive to others when they do not need thing,s but simply want them. They become slaves of their desires."
Hemlock grunted noncommittally.
"You’re entitled to be skeptical – but I have seen this with my own eyes. Still, the actions that you and I take every day demonstrate that our mission is to attempt to reduce the harmful evil in the Warrens. Sometimes we commit violence and are forced to do terrible things. It is akin to a doctor who must remove a diseased limb. It is impossible to contain the damage without causing some harm to the body. But the hope is that the overall result will be positive. We try to make peace with our swords. My hope is that those who come after us will be able to make peace with their words."
Hemlock nodded in agreement.
"We should change the subject," he joked, "otherwise this clock tower may collapse under the weight of this conversation."
Hemlock laughed girlishly, "Fine… we wouldn't want that to happen!"
Chapter Seventeen
The Tanna Varran town was in a state of alert and the Outlanders were returned to their hall, still under guard.
Hemlock studied the people as she passed among them, conscious of being watched and studied in turn by the townspeople. Some people looked darkly toward her, as if they were blaming her for the recent catastrophic events. Others were impassive, others appeared curious, and a few even appeared supportive. Hemlock was struck, however, by the courage that she saw in almost every eye. She felt that this was a people used to adversity, and that they were determined to persevere through any danger.
As she approached their bedrolls, Hemlock noticed that Merit had rejoined them. She hung back from the group as he approached.
"Merit, what happened to you after we lost you on the way to the meeting hall?" she asked.
"I eventually found my way there. I arrived just as that woman was…killed," replied Merit in his characteristic way.
"I’m sorry that we left you behind, Merit. We were in such a hurry!"
"I do what I can to keep up, Miss Hemlock, and I accept that I can’t do everything like…like normal people can. But I don’t despair over it. I didn’t even think about it for many, many years."
"That’s good, Merit."
"As I returned here from the Hall, a crowd of Tanna Varrans moved around me. I heard them talking about us and the Witch. They think that we are going to help them against the Witch. They feel that the Witch will attack with her army of ghosts and demons. They think that the King has grown soft," Merit explained.
Hemlock was surprised at the relevance of this observation. She had considered Merit incapable of making a real contribution to their cause up until that moment.
"Thank you, Merit. I will mention this to Safreon."
Merit bowed and walked off toward the corner where he had sat in the hours since their arrival, lost in his thoughts.
Safreon and Gwineval were engaged in conversation nearby and Hemlock joined them.
"Merit has heard the townsfolk saying that the Witch will attack and that they expect we will help them fight her. They are also saying that their King has grown soft in the face of the Witch’s threat."
"An astute observation. We’ll have to see what happens. Their opinions hold no sway if the will of Pan Taros is enforced tomorrow. We have to plan accordingly until we have a reason to expect some other outcome," responded Safreon.
"Tored and Taros Ranvok agree with the townsfolk, that much is clear," stated Gwineval.
"Perhaps, but would they defy Pan Taros in order to act upon their beliefs?" asked Safreon.
"I think that Tored probably wanted some open conflict with the Witch in order to trigger military preparations. He has what he wants now. I’ve seen his type before. He is a warrior first and a statesmen second. I think that he recognizes that some period of preparation is preferable to open conflict for now."
"You realize that if the Tanna Varrans are destroyed, the Witch and her ilk may become more dangerous to the City. They will gain control of the Valleys and have access to more Oberon," replied Safreon.
Gwineval looked around them at the nearby Tanna Varrans, making certain that they were not being overheard. "The Wizard Guild plans to deal with the Witches soon. Falignus has stated as much. We…they seem to be waiting for some breakthrough in the research of the Seventh Circle. Falignus is very secretive regarding exactly what the research is. I’m not sure how he will react if the Witches gain full control of the Witch Crags by eliminating the Tanna Varrans. After seeing this Witch in person, I am more concerned about the threat that she may pose. She has formidable powers."
Hemlock interrupted. "Are there more Witches? Are there more Tanna Varran towns?"
"Yes and yes," stated Safreon. "Pan Taros reigns over this, the largest of their Towns, Tor Varnos. Similarly, I understand from Tored that this Witch is the most powerful of a handful of Witches in the Witch Crags. The Tanna Varran towns do cooperate, but fortunately the Witches are too fearful of treachery within their ranks to cooperate in any meaningful way."
"Great, more Witches to deal with, too? This land is just as dangerous as the City. I hope the wizards and the Witches go to war and kill each other. How about that for a solution?" said Hemlock, shaking her head.
"What do you suppose would happen to the City in such a conflict?" pointed out Safreon.
Hemlock only shrugged in response. Safreon and Gwineval continued to talk as Hemlock decided to retire to her bedroll for some needed rest.
Some hours later, she was still trying to relax and still reviewing the events of the night in her head. It was not a night that she would soon forget.
She saw Safreon, who she thought had been asleep, bolt up in his bedroll. He looked around abstractly, trying to focus on something.
Hemlock thought to ask him if he was ok, but the look of concentration on his face held her back.
After a few moments, Hemlock noticed that his mouth moved very slightly–as if he was talking to himself.
Then his eyes popped open, and he met eyes with Hemlock. He quickly looked around and noted Merit sitting nearby with his back turned and the absence of Gwineval (who had departed for another of his frequent baths).
"The Griffin, Penelope, has found us. She is nearby, but the Tanna Varrans are wary of her and have flown patrols to intercept her approach. She cannot reach the town without being attacked," he told her.
Hemlock considered this and then replied "What will you do?"
Safreon's brow furrowed. "My desire is to rendezvous with her immediately, but I think our hosts would not take kindly to another unusual circumstance this night. Since we are bound to depart in the morning, we will wait until we put some distance between us and this town. Then I will contact her with my mind. I must show you how to do this. I have a potion that I use. I’ll show you tomorrow."
Hemlock nodded in affirmation. Safreon lay down again and was snoring loudly mere seconds later. Hemlock admired his ability to sleep at will.
Gwineval soon returned from his bath.
"So, do you think that the Witch will make war on these people?" he asked Hemlock as he dried himself.
Hemlock always felt uncomfortable when he was even partially disrobed. His scales and musky scent disturbed her.
"Safreon seems to think so," she replied, nodding toward the snoring bulk of the vigilante alchemist and warrior.
"He does have a knack for predicting the future. For instance, he seems to have been very confident that he would pry me away from the Wizard Guild–and look at me now."
Hemlock was surprised at Gwineval's candor. He had never spoken to her like this before.
"But you'll go back. That's his intention."
"Oh he hopes it will be so, but whether he believes it will come to pass is another matter. I don't know how much you know of the politics of the Wizard Guild, but I was not in favor even before this incident. It will be hard for me to explain my actions to Falignus."
Hemlock felt a
now familiar surge of excitement at the mention of that name. She marveled at how the mere mention of this man's name could have such an effect on her. She had only seen him twice, once during battle. Still, something about him had made an impression on her. She recalled his face in that strange low gravity room in the Tower. She felt drawn to him, and really wasn't sure why. It was a loss of control that she found thrilling and terrifying at the same time.
"So will we be responsible for the destruction of these people at the hands of this Witch?" asked Gwineval.
"Taros Ranvok and Tored don't seem to fear her," replied Hemlock, troubled at the thought of Gwineval's words.
"Yes, they are brave, but you saw her magic. I am a member of the Wizard Council and I am not sure I could have faced her. She would be a fearsome opponent at the head of an army of creatures such as those we faced recently."
"But Pan Taros demands that we leave the town. We can't help them unless he relents."
"True enough. But maybe he will change his mind after tonight. He has lost family and seemed quite affected."
"Do you think Safreon hopes as much?"
"Perhaps. He will no doubt offer to help them if they seem open to it. I half hope that it does not happen, for things are complicated enough as it stands. But I have to admit to feeling some sense of responsibility for this situation, despite my best efforts not to."
"Yes, I suppose that I do, too. I’ll speak with Safreon about it."
"Oh, you probably don't need to. One thing I've learned about Safreon is that when he is involved, events seem to unfold according to his designs. You might as well relax and let events take you where they may."
"I’ve never felt that way about him," responded Hemlock.
Gwineval smiled sardonically in his unique way, and nodded. "Maybe it's just I who am the pawn in his designs, then."
Hemlock did not know how to respond to him, so she simply shrugged and looked away.
…
The night passed fitfully for Hemlock.
At dawn, she heard a group of Tanna Varrans enter the chamber through the far door. Turning, she noted Taros Ranvok approaching, flanked by two warriors. All of the outlanders rose to greet them.
Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) Page 23