One Hundredth Magic

by Jeffrey Turner

  “General Draston,” she said. “De Niron's replacement. He'll lead the cavalry if there's any real fighting."

  “No flag for the Emperor?"

  Kandys thought for a moment. “During parades the flyers swoop down over the street with the Emperor's colors trailing behind them. I'm not sure where it is today, though. Maybe out with the troops already deployed?"

  “Could be."

  The first ranks of the cavalry appeared, officers dressed in immaculate uniforms. The buckles on their boots and belts glinted in the sun; even the metal in their harnesses shone. Each man wore a tabard with the lion's-head device of Emperor Theodoric, but their left shoulders differed in color. Unit markings, Alexander realized. The small nose rings would be useless in the heat of battle for identifying one another. The officers carried long swords and each had a long chain around his neck from which dangled a slender silver tube.

  “What are they wearing around their necks?” he asked.

  “Oh. Whistles,” said Kandys. “They use them to give orders during the fighting."

  “I've heard of that. Wonder how well it works."

  One of the men raised a fist, and the crowd erupted into such a cacophony of cheering that talking became impossible for a moment. Kandys shook her head in disgust.

  “Look at them,” she said when Alexander could hear her again. “They're like little children with their first swords. Where do they think they're going, some kind of party? I should be cleaning out someone's jewelry stash while these idiots gawk at the soldiers and horses."

  “It's all part of war,” Alexander said. “An army can't stand by itself—civilians feed it, make armor for it, sew tents and carry supplies. That's why they're marching out in front of half the town. Get the people rallied behind the soldiers right from the start. Whoever's in charge knows what he's doing."

  The main body of the cavalry soon arrived, hundreds of soldiers carrying lances and long swords. Most of their mounts were roans and sorrels of the breeds common in the northern plains, but an occasional black from the Addamantian herds dotted the ranks. The ground shook as the horses stomped by in near-perfect unison. Despite knowing the reason for the deployment, Alexander found himself captivated by the show of discipline. Looking at the forest of upturned lances and the grim, proud expression on face after face, he was abruptly struck by how close to war the two cities really were. Within days these men could be leveling their weapons toward Addamantian tabards or dying at the hands of Alexander's friends.

  A shudder cascaded through his body and he turned away from the parade, dropping his apple core in the bucket before pushing his way through the crowd to the vacant common room of the inn. A small but strong hand gripped his as he headed for the back door.

  “I feel the same way,” Kandys said.

  “I know,” said Alexander. “Let's go find your sister."

  * * * * *

  The Emperor glared at his sons through his monocle, unaware that his grip on the lens was causing it to dig angry red lines above and below his eye. The princes sat on opposite sides of a wide table upon which was painted a map of the Western Realm. The War Chamber was dimly lit even in the middle of the day. No windows broke the thick walls, which would have baffled potential eavesdroppers even without their lining of thick tapestries.

  Only two doors led in and out—by tradition, the Emperor's council only unlocked the War Chamber when potential conflict arose. Small figurines on the table indicated the size and position of military units from the realm's three major cities. The largest deployment by far was that just south of Hurst, which already included the majority of the Imperial cavalry. Darien leaned over the table with an Addamantian infantry unit in each hand and tapped the two together while staring vacantly at the space between them. Fenric merely leaned back in his chair and listened to his father with an indulgent half-smile.

  “Readying the cavalry on Cirtisan's Field can appear as nothing but an act of war,” Theodoric said. “It's a mistake and you, Fenric, of all people, should know that.”

  “It's a defensive display of force,” said Fenric. “The Addamantians send one giant bug from the south, we let them know that a thousand lancers are ready to descend from the north. They won't consider it a hostile act unless we advance as far as the river."

  “I disagree,” said Theodoric. “And what's more, you've no proof that ... thing came from Addamantia. Nikkolynda is convinced we're dealing with one madman here. As soon as he's dealt with the warlock, we'll—"

  “Still be at war,” said Fenric. “Every man and woman of Hurst would benefit from breaking Alfrid's grip on the realm's silver. Why wouldn't he want to disrupt our operation at Selmer Ridge? Besides, when's the last time Nikkolynda left that tower of his to face our enemies? He doesn't give a damn about the people, Father. They know it's you who truly protects them."

  “'Tis true, Father,” said Darien. “The wizard's really an ol’ codger.” This said, Darien cradled his head in his arms over the Howling Straits and promptly fell asleep.

  “I've better things to occupy my premier wizard's time than chasing down rumors,” said Theodoric. “Lest you forget, it was Nikkolynda who slew the spider when the army couldn't."

  “And now it's the army's turn to stare down the enemy,” said Fenric. “I hope for peace just as strongly as you but I don't believe we'll see it if we back down to Alfrid now."

  Theodoric stared at the war map for a long time before turning away. “All right. What do you propose, Fenric?"

  “We continue the deployment. Reinforce the garrisons on our side of the South Nivom and make it clear to Alfrid that his provocations aren't unnoticed. He may even send his army to look across the river at us, but he won't engage. He'll back down in the face of a direct confrontation."

  “If he doesn't want a direct confrontation, why the blazes do you think he'd murder so many men and attack us with wizardry? It makes little sense, Fenric."

  “It makes perfect sense, Father. Alfrid discovered our new source of silver and panicked. He knows that with our own supply of precious metal the balance of trade will tip greatly in our favor. The attacks are meant to unsettle us, make us vulnerable to that snake of a negotiator, Hafflston. But he's failed—we remain steadfast, and Burrel Tarlsman has already sent a crew to begin fortifications of the mine. When Alfrid sees that we can't be broken by such backhanded attacks, he'll return to cowering in his little barony."

  “I'm still unconvinced that Alfrid is behind the attacks at all. Nikkolynda believes that some other agent wishes to provoke war between Hurst and Addamantia, and I'm inclined to agree."

  “Which makes defensive mobilization still the best course. If it is Alfrid, our show of force will back him down. If it's Nikkolynda's mysterious outsider, our defensive posture will spoil his intent."

  Theodoric dropped his monocle from his eye and rubbed at the socket with his palm. “Your restraint astounds me, Fenric. I imagined you'd argue that we seize this opportunity to declare war on Addamantia and pursue your dream of reuniting the realm."

  Fenric stared hard at his father. “It's true, I've always argued for unification, Father, but more important is that I've always put your command before my own opinion. I've never contradicted your decision, once given, and I'd hardly start now."

  “I told Nikkolynda as much,” said Theodoric, smiling abruptly. He pulled another chair from under the table and seated himself next to the snoring Darien. “You'll make a fine Emperor some day, Fenric."

  “Not too soon, Father,” said Fenric.

  Theodoric chuckled. “Not if I can help it, at least. We go with your plan for now, Fenric.” He looked down at the map and traced his finger along the curving path of the South Nivom, stopping to tap idly at the place where wide bridges connected the highways of Addamantia and Hurst. “I want cautious men and strict discipline on the line, though. I won't attack Alfrid without solid proof that he sponsored the killings."

  Fenric stood and offered a deep bow with
his hand on the hilt of his sword. “As His Righteousness commands,” he said as he straightened. “I follow your command as your subject and your wisdom as your son."

  The Emperor's eyes actually watered at the affirmation, but Darien's groggy return to wakefulness drew Fenric's attention away from the display of emotion. Theodoric dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve and smiled at Fenric.

  “Every father,” he said, “should be as fortunate as I."

  * * * * *

  “I should've known you started this mess,” said Adriana. Her glare swiveled back and forth from Alexander to Kandys and back. The three stood in Shipman's Plaza next to a stall laden with silk wares. The gnome proprietor watched them argue from a discreet distance and counted the scarves hanging from the rack behind Alexander whenever one of the humans moved. Alexander was beginning to wish he hadn't told Adriana about Kandys and the Sandlanders’ grimoire, but he didn't think the subject could be avoided. Without Adriana as a conduit to the Emperor whatever knowledge he gained from Burrel Tarlsman's warehouse could prove completely useless. Not to mention that solving the murders was just as important to the counselor as it was to him. He was certain that if they couldn't solve the puzzling murders soon their cities would be at war, and neither desired that.

  “If they hadn't gotten me, they would've gotten some other thief,” said Kandys. She tried to avoid the argument by avoiding her sister's gaze, but Adriana appeared unwilling to call a truce.

  “You weren't even smart enough to find out who you were working for?” the counselor said.

  “Yes,” said Kandys. “I guessed I was working for some snotty, keep-dwelling sycophant with dreams of being a noble."

  Adriana gasped and closed her mouth so fast Alexander heard her teeth click together. Her face reddened, and he decided it was time to intervene. He stepped between the two women and faced Adriana.

  “We're sure that Stamovan has Burrel Tarlsman involved,” he said. “Stamovan spent too much time in that warehouse for it to be a social visit. Problem is, we don't know who else is behind the conspiracy. We need to find out or they'll just take the grimoire and go to ground when we expose Stamovan."

  “All right,” said Adriana. “How do you propose to find the ‘others?’ Consult a scryer?"

  “Well, no,” said Alexander. “A scryer can't just conjure up random information like—"

  “I know that!” Adriana snapped.

  “Um, sorry. No, we're, well, we're going to break into Tarlsman's warehouse tonight."

  For a moment he feared the woman would collapse from stroke. Her face darkened to nearly purple and her mouth opened and closed silently for a moment before she managed to speak.

  “You're going to break into a warehouse owned by the third-wealthiest man in Hurst?” she said slowly.

  He nodded.

  Adriana burst into laughter. “You're insane,” she said. “You've spent too much time with this ... this thief."

  “At least I'm not some suck-up underling begging for scraps from the Emperor's table,” said Kandys, stepping around to stand by Alexander.

  “Enough!” He said. He winced as a dull throb began pounding in the side of his head. “Do you have a better idea, Adriana? I don't."

  “I'm sure there's a better way."

  “Let's hear it,” said Kandys.

  Adriana fumed silently for a moment. “If you get caught in there,” she said, “I won't be able to help you. You're completely on your own."

  Kandys snickered. “If we get caught."

  “I just need you ready to take word to Hafflston and the Emperor,” Alexander said. “We'll meet you outside the keep an hour after dawn, hopefully with the names of the conspirators."

  “This is a poor time to be an Addamantian in a Hurst jail,” said Adriana.

  “I don't plan on finding out,” Alexander replied.

  “Please don't. Believe it or not, Huntsman, I've grown a little fond of you.” Without even a parting glance at her sister, Adriana spun on her heel and marched across the plaza.

  “Well,” said Alexander, “now that the pleasant part of the day is over, what do we do for the next twelve hours?"

  “Supplies, food, then sleep,” said Kandys. “Always sleep before a job.” She looked sideways at him as she strode from gnome's stall. “That wasn't an invitation."

  “Of course not.” He shook his head, and the gnome gave him a sympathetic shrug as he set off after the thief.

  * * * * *

  Clouds blew across the night sky and obscured the stars, but the plains to the west of Hurst boasted as many points of light as the typical evening heights. Hawkin drifted on the thermal columns like a great phantom bird, glancing forward constantly lest he collide with one of the other dozen flyers in the sky this night. The illumination from the campfires jarred his sense of well-being, as did the long, slender blade strapped to his waist. Though the rapier didn't interfere with his control of the glider in flight, it could easily entangle his legs upon landing and result in a turned ankle. Still, the weapon was required during the general alert, and Hawkin wasn't one to flaunt the rules.

  He banked to the right and circled over the northern gate. He counted the archers atop both inner and outer wall and nodded. Drifting easily, he eventually sailed over the great keep.

  Something to the east of the city caught his eye, and Hawkin dipped his right wing. He banked toward the wall and dove, scanning the ground. There were no campfires there—the road outside the small eastern gate led directly into the Black Mountains, an unlikely direction for an Addamantian attack. The city watch guarded the gate, of course, and the garrison at Stannish Pass had been reinforced days ago; but nearly fifteen miles of dark, rocky territory lay in between.

  Hawkin glided toward that stretch of road and dropped farther while wondering if the moon had simply come out of hiding long enough to fool him with a reflection from a flat stone. A shadow quivered momentarily, however, and Hawkin knew that someone traveled the road below without a light. He arched his back and angled downward until the steep descent threatened to pull the feathers from his glider. Even at this breakneck pace he needed nearly five minutes to catch the distant figure some three miles north of the city.

  The dark-robed man looked up and pushed back his cowl as Hawkin approached. The flyer cursed silently, though he was certain he'd given no warning sound. The man on the road simply reined in his horse, however, and Hawkin dropped to the ground with one hand carefully holding the rapier in position. Hawkin's eyes widened as they came to rest on the face of Nikkolynda.

  “The sky's up there,” said the Prime Wizard, pointing in the direction of the clouds.

  “Yes, sir. I saw you and felt the need to investigate."

  “Well, I'm sure His Righteousness will be pleased with your diligence.” Nikkolynda kicked his stallion forward and brushed by the flyer.

  “Beg your pardon, sir, but are you in need of assistance?"

  “Do I look in need of assistance?” The wizard didn't turn around, and Hawkin began to trot after him.

  “No, sir. I'm just not accustomed to seeing the Emperor's wizard in the mountains at night."

  “I'm doing the Emperor's business."

  “As am I, sir. Perhaps I should accompany you. There's some fear that the Addamantian's have sent men into the mountains."

  “I've no such fears,” said Nikkolynda, “but you're welcome to accompany me for now. I expect we have another two miles or so before anything truly dangerous arrives."

  “Yes, sir.” Hawkin didn't understand the wizard's confidence but could tell that Nikkolynda wasn't in the mood for explanation. He continued to follow the stallion on the ground to conserve his arm strength for flight later. Once, when the moon cleared the clouds and the horse passed through a bright patch of ground, he realized that the old wizard wasn't guiding the horse at all. He sat on its back and stared ahead as if in a trance, occasionally whispering to himself or touching the numerous hammer-lock pouches that hung from his
belt. So preoccupied did Hawkin become watching the Prime Wizard that he nearly bumped into the stallion's hindquarters when it ceased walking. He stepped aside quickly to avoid being kicked.

  “Here we are,” said Nikkolynda. He slipped lightly from the saddle, then turned the stallion back toward Hurst and slapped its flank. The beast took off at a fast clip.

  “Time for you to return,” Nikkolynda said to Hawkin. “You may deliver a message for me. If I don't return, tell His Righteousness that I recommend Pellorin for my successor.” He turned to the side of the road and set off into a copse of firs that lined the steep slope of the mountain face.

  The Prime Wizard's words sank in, and Hawkin reached for his rapier as he strode after the old man. “If you go into danger, sir, it's my duty to protect you."

  “You're as likely to hinder me as anything else,” said Nikkolynda. “Go home. I can't protect both of us."

  “I can't turn back without you, sir,” said Hawkin. He had no idea what danger Nikkolynda was referring to, but he knew he couldn't let the old wizard wander about the mountains on his own in the night.

  “Fine, enough,” snapped Nikkolynda. He stopped before a blank face of rock and looked about. He sniffed the air and regarded the trees with a suspicious squint. “He's here, somewhere. Show yourself, Malthus. You beckoned and I came, so show your damned self."

  Hawkin cried out as a blast of wind blew the loose pine needles away from the tree trunks. His hands slipped through the directionals and he dropped into a crouch as the answer to Nikkolynda's demand appeared. The wall of rock before them crumbled away abruptly, revealing a yawning black hole that appeared to lead straight into the mountain. Tiny glimmers of energy snapped and curled at the edges of the impromptu cave, motes of light that flared to life and died in the space of a heartbeat. Hawkin felt the air around him warm in response, and he checked his leap but reached for the rapier at his side.