by Jim Galford
“Then deploy as many soldiers as you feel is necessary to guard it. Feel free to tell them anything you think will work, and I will sign off on the order if it requires my involvement. I don’t need to know anything about it, other than that it is protected. Keep me in the dark if you must, but I want to know there will be no surprises.”
Dorus nodded and put a hand to his sweaty forehead. “I’ll get a contingent to the wall within the hour,” he told Therec, leaning with his other hand on the hall’s stones. “I assure you, the girl will not set foot within a quarter mile of the item. That is the best I can offer.”
Coming closer than Therec was overly comfortable with, Dorus patted him on the shoulder in what he guessed was meant to be some kind of affirmation. In doing so, he opened up the inner folds of his long coat, revealing his coin purse, pouches with any number of tools for his profession, and a single scroll tube. Therec had been given a similar scroll by the king to mark his right to lead the armies. That scroll was the single bit of proof that they had the authority to act on the king’s wishes.
On a whim, Therec patted Dorus’s arm in return, slipping his other hand under the man’s coat. With a flick of his wrist, he undid the strap of the scroll case at the same moment his hand slapped the man’s shoulder. He slipped the case into his robe’s sleeves, not entirely sure why he had done it, but trusting his instincts enough to carry through on his actions.
Therec waited until Dorus had calmed himself and hurried off to dispatch the soldiers. Then, walking up to the next floor up in the keep, he sat down at a window on the western side of the tower, placing the scroll tube in his lap as he waited. With the window open, Therec could watch nearly a third of the city, and most importantly, the barracks.
Less than an hour later, he saw a large force of soldiers marching out from the barracks, taking a direct route toward the southwestern section of town. From so far above them, it was not difficult for Therec to watch them nearly to the wall itself, getting a better idea of the area Dorus wanted protected.
“I may need to find the item for Turessi,” Therec thought to himself, wishing that was not the case. A brief thought of his family intruded, but he pushed it aside. “All this secrecy with no skill to maintain it. When this war ends, if they will not help me save my family from whatever has happened, I may need to take matters into my own hands.”
He watched a little longer, narrowing the possible area in the city to one particular plaza that tended to be deserted much of the day. It was far from the common shops and had no inns or housing near it. With the winter snows, it was generally abandoned unless children went there to play.
“Let’s see what you’re hiding, Dorus, and whether you have good reason. Here’s hoping I do not need to save Lantonne from itself,” he added aloud, smiling.
Therec watched until the soldiers had dispersed throughout the region they were protecting. Just as he started to get up from his seat, Therec spotted Dorus hurrying toward the southwestern part of town, his hood pulled up to hide his appearance but his clothing marking him clearly as a magister. Gold and red were hardly colors that the commoners wore. The magister could be seen halfway across the city from Therec’s vantage point.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” asked Therec, leaning forward to watch the man. “Stop giving me reasons to suspect you are a traitor, you fool.”
Therec pulled on his gloves and raised his hood, slipping the stolen scroll casing into his belt as he got up. He started to head toward the door, but then stopped and turned to examine himself in the nearby mirror…something he could not remember having done before.
The heavy black robes were customary for all of his people, but Therec knew they marked him as a foreigner as much as the tattoos on his face did. For him to continue acting with the king’s authority, he would need to show some willingness to be like these people, no matter how much it bothered him. He had to change himself, especially if he would rely on the willingness of Lantonne to aid him in the months to come.
Changing into a set of elegant trousers, shirt, and doublet that fit the style of the nobility in Lantonne, Therec went back to the mirror. The style was certainly not one he had grown up with, but it seemed to suit him. Deep down, he felt it somehow looked the part of a man who should be king in lands like these, even if he had no intention of being one.
Hurrying from the room, he made his way out of the keep and down into the city streets. The item Dorus was hiding had taken a secondary role in Therec’s concerns, with Dorus’s actions ahead of it. The man had been warned already…if he was hiding something more than the item itself, Therec had every intention of confronting him about it. The fact that the man went scurrying off made Therec wonder if perhaps Dorus was actually conspiring against the city. All it would take was Dorus offering the item—whatever it was—to the enemy and Lantonne might be beyond saving.
Without the height of the keep to aide him, finding his way to where Dorus had gone was more difficult than Therec had expected. Even in the relatively sparse district, the man could have disappeared nearly anywhere, and Therec had no intention of asking directions of anyone there. It was hard enough to be subtle bearing the tattoos of his station among the uneducated. Drawing further attention would only start rumors that Therec did not need.
Checking the alleys and open areas near the wall first, Therec continued to double-back and search for any clue of where Dorus had gone. More than once, he had to step off the road to avoid being seen by the soldiers that he knew would recognize him even at a distance. Each time they came near, he let his fur-lined hood cover his face until they were past him. If those men were loyal to Dorus and not to him—regardless of the king’s orders about who led which aspects of the city—Therec needed to keep them from reporting until he knew for sure Dorus was loyal.
Nearing one of the older parts of the district, Therec came to a stop close to a dry fountain in a plaza area where merchants sold their wares to anyone who would listen to their shouts, though there were few out in such cold weather. At the back of the plaza, a vast sculpture of a tree had been built on the surface of the city’s wall, rising nearly to the top of the battlements. Near it, six soldiers sat on the edge of the fountain, watching the crowd. The men were situated such that they appeared to be off-duty and lounging, but Therec could see by their faces that they were very much ready to act at any time and watching the passers-by.
Therec thought to his long walks within the city and to the other plazas that were found near other sections of the outer wall. There were four, all with similar fountains and sculptures, but this one was the only one with a direct road from the keep and certainly the only one with a district outpost for the military right alongside the sculpture of the tree. The layout of the city was erratic at times, but given Dorus’s deployment of the men here, Therec doubted it was coincidence. The item was hidden somewhere within the plaza itself.
Giving up on hiding from the soldiers and making his way from the street to the open area at the base of the sculpture, Therec let his vision blur and shift to show him any magical auras in his path. It made walking more difficult, as the swift-moving citizens of the city were inherently non-magical and tended to all muddle together in a grey mass, but he knew once the soldiers spotted him he would have precious little time. Given how few people were out there, he had relatively little risk of running into anyone other than the soldiers.
Standing out from the otherwise drab world while his vision was shifted, Therec quickly spotted several people with the faint glow of items with tiny shreds of magic or even fainter auras around themselves. These were people who had learned magic, whether to a small or large degree he could not be sure by sight. They might be dropouts from the school of magic or gifted untrained. He could care less what they might be…everyone here was uneducated and beneath him.
Past the people, Therec could see another faint aura that covered much of the city’s wall. He had seen this on the walls near where the ground
had collapsed on the north end, though he had not spent any appreciable time studying it. The magic was weak with age, but still provided a small degree of additional protection for the walls. Likely, the magisters had been too lazy to refresh the spell over the years and now did not have the numbers needed to repair it. Had they done their duties, Therec would have been far less concerned about an attack by Altis. The spell was nearly identical to the well-preserved one on Altis’ walls.
Therec looked over the wall for anything that stood out and saw little that drew his eye. The faint glow covered every block of the walls, with some glowing more brightly than others where the magic had faded somewhat less. The only thing that did not glow was the sculpture, which did not surprise him—few sculptors would have had access to magic like that used on the walls themselves.
Just as Therec was ready to turn away from the wall and search elsewhere for Dorus, he stopped and gave the sculpture a second look. Something about it did not quite look right in his blurry vision. It was subtle, but he caught something that felt out of place. In his years of training, an appreciation for one’s instincts became second nature, especially when dealing with magic.
Against the dim blue glow of the wall, faint lines scattered around where the non-magical branches of the stone tree hid the glow from him. In one particular area, the glow was not only hidden, but seemed to be entirely washed out, as though he were looking at it through a piece of cloth. It was a faint difference, but unlike the other branches of the tree, that one did not blur, but was a distinct smooth line of non-glowing stone.
Therec blinked back to his normal sight, keeping his eyes on the spot he had seen. With regular vision, there was nothing remarkable about that part of the tree, other than the difficulty one would have reaching the spot. It would likely take a rope hung from the top of the battlements to get anywhere near it.
Looking around in his normal sight, Therec saw he was surrounded. Soldiers had circled him, all with weapons drawn. The citizens that had been here and there in the plaza were retreating to its edges, watching the soldiers nervously.
“I thought you might come here,” came Dorus’s voice behind Therec. “I swore I would protect this from anyone who would come to take it from the city. The king never believed that you were a spy, but I knew it from the start. You just proved everything I feared, Turessian.”
Turning slowly, Therec faced Dorus across a short section of the plaza. The older man was sweating badly, his nervousness apparent in every movement from his fidgeting to the furtive glances he made almost constantly. He was afraid, but whether it was from fear of Therec or something more, Therec could not be sure. Therec would use that, regardless of its source.
“Magister Dorus, you are walking a dangerous line right now. I recommend you back down and call off these men.”
“Tell me why they sent you here, Therec. Give me some reason to think the king wasn’t entirely misled.”
Therec glanced to either side, noting how much space the soldiers would need to cover to reach him. They were watching him and Dorus like hawks, ready to act when they knew for certain what they should do. Given the city still had no idea their king was dead, Therec had to tread carefully. If the soldiers had any doubts, they would back Dorus. All he had going for him was the king’s public declaration that Therec was an ally and ambassador.
“You know why I am here, Dorus,” Therec answered, trying not to look away from the man again. “Are you accusing me of something?”
The faint creak of armor made Therec’s chest tighten nervously, but he had to remain calm or Dorus would have the upper hand. Being a local citizen, these soldiers would trust Dorus far more. It would take great care to keep them from moving on him.
Therec checked his peripheral vision and counted nearly a dozen soldiers. He could kill two or three with magic, but the rest could easily butcher or restrain him before he could do much more than that.
“I am accusing you of working against this city and its king to sabotage our defenses on behalf of the army your own people now lead!” Dorus shouted, clearly trying to win over the soldiers or bystanders. “As lord of this city’s military—”
“Prove your claim,” said Therec, cutting off Dorus’s proclamation. He touched the scroll case in his belt and pushed down a smile that tried to work its way onto his lips. “I have heard no such thing…have any of you soldiers heard the king relinquished control over this own army? My understanding is that Dorus was given the authority to deliver orders sent from the king and nothing more.”
Dorus blinked and looked around nervously as the soldiers stared at him expectantly. Thus far, Therec and Dorus had given all of their commands to the city and its people via declarations signed with the king’s signet. Neither had claimed to have any authority, making Dorus’s statement a dangerous one among the soldiers, all of whom had sworn an oath to serve the king to the moment of their deaths.
“I have…” Dorus started to say, patting his belt. Glancing down, he went wide-eyed and he began searching the plaza. “I…I am…I had…”
“By the authority of your king,” began Therec, holding up his own scroll signed with the king’s seal, “I order this man arrested as a traitor to the crown. The king will decide his fate back at the keep, not in a public plaza. I have been granted the right to act as needed within the walls of this city to aid the king. Seize him.”
Dorus shook with anger and fear as he backed away from Therec while the soldiers advanced on him.
“Surrender and the king may go easier on you, Magister,” offered Therec, no longer bothering to hide his smile. “Do right by your order and go with these fine men peacefully.”
Clenching his jaw and going abruptly calm, Dorus straightened his shoulders. “I swore that I would defend this city against invaders,” he told Therec, putting a hand toward the nearest soldier, who came to a sharp stop as though he had run into a brick wall. “For thirty years, I have been a magister of Lantonne. By right of my station and the laws the king has ordained, I demand a trial by combat against my accuser.”
The remaining soldiers stopped, clearly disappointed. The right to trial by combat was rarely exercised and was often considered an old custom which had no place in modern law. It was normally only used by people with a minor dispute they felt did not require the involvement of the king’s laws. To Therec’s memory, he had read of no magister—or magic-user of any station—who had requested a trial by combat in a generation.
“I have familiarized myself only with the existence of the laws regarding such a request,” Therec told the assembled soldiers, looking around for someone who appeared ready to explain. “How does Lantonne address such requests? Is a time and place chosen…champions…witnesses?”
One of the soldiers finally spoke up. “The accuser must either demand trial in front of the king, if the king is willing to act as witness, or they must accept the challenge. The combat’s result may not exceed the punishment that a trial would have exacted.”
“Treason is a death sentence,” Dorus noted, flicking his coat back out of his way. Smirking, he added,“Either have me tried in public before the king or you must fight me to the death.”
“What are our limitations?”
“There are none, Turessian. We are limited by our own capabilities.”
The soldiers moved almost in unison, backing away from both men. They formed a circle around the area, ensuring neither could flee, but made no effort to approach Dorus.
“Very well,” replied Therec, slipping off his gloves and putting them in his belt. He slid down his hood, inwardly amused as he saw the distant civilians’ eyes across the plaza go straight to his tattoos. “I accept your request of trial by combat. When should we…?”
Therec’s question was cut short as Dorus flung a hand in his direction, engulfing the area in flames. He had just an instant to react, calling on the spirits of the dead to deflect the magical fire. The flames parted, but his fine new clothing smoked as the heat
dissipated.
From childhood, Therec had trained not just to fulfill the laws of Turess but to be ready for battle in any form it might appear. More often than not among the clans of Turessi, that meant fighting other magic-users and leading his clan into battle. His heart maintained its steady beat as he began pulling one intricate spell after another through the spirit realm, hurling them at Dorus as fast as he could manage.
The two men stood their ground, each skillfully deflecting one spell after another and creating brief flashes of light or smoke every few seconds. For every three or four that were dismissed harmlessly, one spell would nearly hit its mark, whether it was Dorus or Therec. Blue-white flames, shards of ice like razors, explosions of stone from the plaza ground, and even blinding flashes of lightning burst around Therec, tearing at his jacket and cutting deeply at his face, torso, and arms.
Around Dorus, the magical effects of Therec’s spells were less dramatic but no less dangerous. Clouds of flickering skeletal hands blew away, pops of white light appeared and vanished, and in the time it took Dorus to shrug off some of the spells, his skin would briefly begin to blister or burn.
Then, Therec got his opportunity. He recognized the spell Dorus was piecing together: It was deadly, intended to tear a foe apart and break through their attempts to defend against magical attacks. It was difficult to cast, giving Therec the advantage of speed.
Therec seized the moment and formed one of his simplest spells, using the faintest shred of magic from the spirits to knock the man over backwards. The impact threw off Dorus’s concentration and disrupted his spell.
Raising one hand, Therec reached out for the spirits of the dead and pulled as much power as he could muster, eliciting a shriek of a hundred long-dead ancestors as the spell began to form. He took what was offered from the more vengeful spirits, the whispering voices that wanted more to join them. This he poured into the physical world, lowering his arm and pointing his finger at Dorus.