Thaumaturge

by Terry Mancour

  That didn’t make up for the two fresh graves in what I was assured would someday be the temple yard of the estate, but it was something. Thankfully neither man had married, yet, so there were no grieving widows or orphans to contend with. It was a sad day, but the tragedy was tempered by the thrill of victory.

  That evening, after tending the wounded, I conjured a barrel of ale I had tucked away in a hoxter and treated the entire Hundred . . . or at least those who were not standing sentry duty. The corpses of the goblins had been stripped and burned, their heads taken and placed on stakes around the western side of the manor. A pile of armor and other loot was made in the center of the manor hall, the spiked helms of the goblins contrived into a pyramid.

  A fair amount of silver coin was taken from their purses, mostly human coins from the Wilderlands manors they’d looted, but some odd slips of silver that I guessed were being minted by the Goblin King now. Only a few uncut emeralds were discovered, but the haul created a tidy little horde for the impoverished manor.

  The blades of the great goblins were another matter. I studied them with great interest, using magic, and discovered that they were actually of decent quality iron, wrought, not cast as was usual gurvani custom. Indeed, they were far more advanced than the crude iron swords the goblins had produced at the beginning of the war. They were constructed of well-forged iron that had been proficiently shaped by someone who knew what he was doing.

  They were only about twenty-six to twenty-eight inches long, from guard to tip, three fingers wide at the base with only the barest hint of a point. They were heavy blades, about eight pounds each, the hilts built for goblin hands, not human. The simple brass cross-guards were utilitarian, and the pommels were simple iron counterweights made by rolling the extended tang. The weapons were decently balanced and the edges were sharp enough for war. Their scabbards were well-crafted and as good quality as human make. Once the gurvani decorations were stripped off, they would be serviceable blades for the men of Menthem.

  I made a show of staying for an impromptu feast and praised everyone involved generously. I rewarded the fleet-footed lad who had lured the goblins with twenty ounces of silver, a princely sum for a peasant boy that could secure his future, if spent wisely. I also paid a bounty for each goblin and hound head directly to the manor and added a golden coin for the manor to build and staff a chapel. When the livestock fair happened in the fall in Vanador, Menthem would be well-positioned to add significantly to their herds.

  If they survived the next raid.

  I made a point of augmenting the wards and protections around the manor after the attack. Menthem was close enough to the Penumbra that it was bound to attract further attention, and it didn’t have as many close neighbors as the villages and manors on the plateau. Nor did it have a dedicated military. I resolved to see about that, as I rode away the next morning. A knight and a few sergeants might not have defeated the goblins as decisively as the Spellmonger, but they would have strongly discouraged such a light attack in the future.

  That made me ponder just what such raids would look like in the future, when it was learned that the Spellmonger, himself, was active on the battlefield in their defense. Nothing so simple as this, I figured. Next time they would send twice the goblins and thrice the hounds, if not more sinister servants.

  I’d been hoping that the ongoing civil war between Korbal’s minions and the Goblin King’s rebels would distract them both from the threat I was growing on their borders. The presence of the great goblins convinced me this party was likely sent by Gaja Katar, not the Goblin King, whose adherents tended to be natural gurvani.

  The Menthem raid represented the end of that brief respite in the war. These gurvani were looking for labor, not defending themselves. One way or another there had been a change in their status that I needed to look into. It was only a matter of time before the next raid occurred, and I could not depend on luck to defend when it did. If Gaja Katar was preparing to attack me soon, then I had real work to do. Spellgate, the army, and equipage for war had to be my focus, for there were two more Nemovorti lined up to roll over whatever Gaja Katar left of Vanador.

  And that’s why I needed an army. War was coming, and if I couldn’t grow my own fast enough to serve, I had to find other means. That’s what wizards do.

  “As it became clear to Minalan that his new realm was threatened, the great works that sprung up across his land took on a more martial character. Work on market buildings ceased in favor of laboring on Vanador’s town walls. The great works at Spellgate consumed much of the activity and expense, as Lord Marshal Terleman pressed for them to be established in time. The foundries at Yltedene burned day and night to produce iron and steel, and the ring of hammers echoed under the Overhang like a marching song. While Minalan’s private estate was not essential to Vanador’s defense, it was well-suited near the proposed front for him to oversee the coming battle. It was, therefore, given a high priority by the Hesian Order, as well as Minalan, himself, who was skeptical of the early defenses of the town. Spellgarden became not just an estate or a castle, but a physical sign of Minalan’s commitment to the defense of the Magelaw.”

  From the Scrolls of Lawbrother Bryte the Wiser

  Chapter Sixteen

  Spellgarden and its Estates

  My return from Menthem with the results of the raid brought me to Spellgarden, on the way to Vanador, and I decided to tarry and consult with the foreman for a day to make some important decisions.

  I was pleased with what I saw when I rode up the ridge. Once ground was broken on the Spellgarden manor, things had progressed pretty quickly that first summer. The crews Carmella had assigned to the job were among her best, and they knew what kind of pressure there was to complete our defenses. I’d passed six more crews, some with hundreds of workers, attending to the defenses of the vastly more complex Spellgate. I didn’t mind the extravagance. Spellgate was a far more important defense project that a mere count’s castle.

  That said, Carmella’s crews were making obscenely good time. A mere four weeks after they broke ground and laid the foundation, the first hall was all but finished and the kitchen complex was mostly built. The cornerstone for Spellgarden Keep was laid, along with the footings, and the stockpile of heavy stones for the foundation was quarried and delivered – nearly all by magic. Already the foundations of the keep were taking shape. If Carmella’s men kept the same pace as their fellows at Spellgate, I could foresee them completing the superstructure by autumn.

  But even though I didn’t have much in the way of a castle at the moment, and the village manor hall was still empty and settling, there was still work to do on the empty little domain as a whole. The Hundred I’d recruited to people my estates was busy building their own cottages and homes, when they weren’t working to clear fields and establish gardens.

  The actual gardens at Spellgarden would be lovely when they were done, I had no doubt, but they wouldn’t feed the place. There just wasn’t enough arable land that high on the ridge. Carmella and I had chosen the site for its defensive nature, not its potential abundance.

  That meant I needed a proper agricultural estate lower down the hill, one with enough fields to feed themselves and their lord’s household. We’d picked the best location and began preparing the land for its future peasants. Then I had to find some peasants, which led to me recruiting a Hundred of my own.

  During this busy period my assistant on-site at Spellgarden was a thin wizard of the Hesian Order named Speredek. He was from the upper Riverlands and had served his apprenticeship with a spellmonger before learning warmagic, and then subsequently learning how miserable a mercenary warmage’s life could be. Carmella found him in Wilderhall and recruited him for her Order early on. He, along with his colleagues, had lived at Salik Tower ever since, helping Carmella bring her ideas to reality.

  For Speredek, being given command over the project to build the Spellmonger’s private country castle was immensely important. While
not a thaumaturge, precisely, he had picked up bits of tradecraft from everywhere during his short but busy career. He was as interested in the embedded enchantments in the foundation as he was the detail and ornamentation at the end of the build. He was studious, dedicated, and had just a touch of whimsy about him. In many ways he epitomized the kind of mage that was being drawn to Vanador during that time, a generation of optimistic, creative young wizards who seized the opportunity to experiment in Vanador’s creatively rich environment.

  Just about every time I popped over to Spellgarden for a visit or to discuss important points of decision (we’d established a Waystone there very early) he was always at work on the next important phase of the project. He had a cheerful demeanor that reminded me of Taren, before he went to Greenflower, and genuinely didn’t see failure as anything more than an invitation to try a better way. I respected that tremendously. I often wish I had more of that in myself. It might cut down on all the brooding I did.

  Speredek was essential to how Spellgarden was built and shaped from the beginning, and much of what made the domain so special was due to his diligence and intuition. A musician (the flute) and an artist (he liked to paint) as well as a mage and a construction foreman, Speredek approached the opportunity of building my keep and the supporting structures like he’d been offered a great gift, a chance to demonstrate his creative powers.

  When he was not busy building, enchanting, making decisions about construction, painting the walls or playing his flute, he assisted me in designing and executing the rest of the domain. Once we’d agreed to something, I’d stay out of his way while he got it accomplished.

  Spellgarden, as it was drawn on the map, had plenty of room for estates, once you got down from the big double hill. Much of the land along the edge of the plateau’s escarpment was arable, though overgrown, and there were signs of small settlements from the past all over the place. It appeared as if several souls had tried to turn the area into a going concern, without much success.

  My meeting with Speredek led to me deciding to spend a few days there after Midsummer, allowing the kids and Alya to enjoy a much-needed holiday in the country while I worked with Speredek on some of the details he wanted to bring to my attention. I wasn’t merely deciding on the style of the décor. We spent the time fleshing out what my future lands would look like, where the estates would be placed, and how the roads would connect them.

  The greater domain eventually came to encompass four separate manors, counting my home estate. While the lands surrounding the double hilltop weren’t ideal for agriculture, they were fertile enough for a little oats, barley and maize, as well as vegetables and some fruits. If we wanted to ensure our self-sufficiency, there had to be more farmland developed. If Spellgarden was to be a magical estate, the other manors would have to provide an agricultural surplus the normal way to feed it.

  For that, I needed peasants. None of the estates was really large enough to justify settling an entire Hundred. Instead, I had my agents pass the word and carefully select the folk who were interested in renting lands from the Count. Once they arrived and spread out over the three estates, the manors began to take shape. The divisions of land would be too small to feed many villagers. But as there was a certain social clout implicit with being a vassal of the Spellmonger, I did not lack for eager volunteers when I spread the news I was seeking settlers in Vanador. Unsurprisingly, a number of Bovali settlers from Sevendor were determined to join the effort.

  The westernmost manor, originally called Cairnhold, was the most fertile. It had a flat enough slope and rich enough soil to manage nearly two hundred acres of grain, once it was cleared and prepared.

  Spellmere, the neighboring manor we built to the north, was less fertile, wetter and had poorer exposure to the sun. In most of the Riverlands the land would be considered marginal, and it would be allowed to go to forest or meadow. For the Wilderlands, it was considered reasonably productive, and once magic got involved the Spellmeri peasants achieved some respectable yields. To make up the deficit in grain they also planted several acres of nut and fruit trees in the sandier soil, with Speredek arranging with Master Minnik, my magical forester, to secure a number of exotic fruit and nut trees to augment the local supply of walnuts, apples, chestnuts, pears and almonds.

  Cairnhold was the first of the estates to be successfully cut out of the wilderness of my domain, even before Spellgarden Village, when they arrived about the time I returned with Alya for our working holiday. With Spellgarden swarming with construction workers it gave me something to do to keep from interfering with my own castle.

  I did much of the work myself, eager to do some real, practical magic after six months of just scheming, plotting and attending meetings. With Ruderal’s magical assistance, and Minalyan watching eagerly, it took only a few days to carve the first meadow into a plowed field, remove the rocks and prime the soil. Cutting in a rough road was next, and then leveling the site where the village and manor house would be built, and the position of the dikes and berms that would one day become a proper wall. Land cleared for timber was transformed into pastures, as the site was well-suited for cattle.

  The first three families I’d rented the parcel to had arrived, and were quick to raise a barn, which they slept while the first hall and cottages were being built, and the first crops of winter wheat were being sown. Six more families of freedmen, all who had special skills I desired, were settled in Cairnhold before autumn.

  Spellmere became the home to fourteen families of Bovali who desired to return to the Wilderlands instead of enjoying their lives in Sevendor, once it was cleared enough to plant. They were all exceedingly loyal and prosperous, back in Boval Village, but like the folk Tyndal had recruited for Callierd, they pined for the elbow-room of the Wilderlands and an accent that sounded more like their own. Each family was prosperous enough to bring a wagon full of gear and equipment, as well as sufficient supplies to make it through the winter without a crop. The Bovali’s time in Sevendor had made them prosperous and introduced them to new crafts. I needed that kind of energy, not to mention familiarity, in my domain.

  The Spellgarden Hundred were freedmen of the local variety. My more distant estates were peopled by Bovali recruited in Sevendor.

  I chose the Bovali for two main reasons: they were eager to come, and each family had proven personally loyal to me. With all the dangers of the Wilderlands, I needed folk I could depend upon not to turn on me, sell me out, or feel tempted to cheat me. As my estates would eventually provide the soldiery I would need to administer my county, I needed them to be absolutely loyal. And while loyalty can vary from person to person, encouraging a culture where it was expected was helpful, I knew from experience.

  Both the Bovali settlers and the Vanadori freedmen had good reasons to grant me that loyalty. But the Bovali had been through far more with me, and I enjoyed them being close at hand. Commerce, society, and even romance grew the bonds between Spellgarden Village, Cairnhold and Spellmere over time, due to the similarities in culture and custom.

  And then there was Deep Hedge estate.

  Deep Hedge was a bit of an aberration, as it was the last of the estates to be developed, and a bit of a special project of mine. It wasn’t a proper agricultural estate, for one thing. While the manor had an extensive garden, it was much rockier than the other two manor farms and the shadows of the surrounding hills kept the land in shade, much of the time, making it a poor place to grow most grain crops. The two tenant families I originally installed there grew potatoes and onions, and a little maize instead. And they established a piggery.

  One thing Deep Hedge grew in abundance were oak, hazel, hickory and chestnut trees that were ideal for pannage. During the autumn and winter months, the peasants turned the pigs loose in the forest to gorge on abundant acorns. By spring, when the larders and pantries of the peasantry traditionally were bare, the Deep Hedge folk still had pork. Eventually the sausage and bacon from Deep Hedge was prized in the domain, an
d it even enjoyed a reputation in Vanador. But otherwise it was a fairly crappy estate, the kind avoided by good farmers.

  That didn’t mean it wasn’t useful, however. There were many rare and uncommon herbs and fungi in the forests south of my hills, and some had a market in Vanador. Two of the first families I recruited to rent in Deep Hedge were a retired footwizard and hedgewitch from Tralsalan who were interested in being proximate to Spellgarden. Both managed to keep their families fed by raising goats and pigs as well as foraging for special herbs and roots prized by magi, particularly those who practiced low magic. Apparently, the region of old had a reputation for producing great witches, and the abundance of potent herbs was one reason why.

  Indeed, Deep Hedge eventually became a kind of sanctuary for hedgewitches and footwizards, as it grew. Some were fleeing persecution or seeking opportunity. Others were specialists who preferred the company of complementary professionals. The three halls and a tavern that comprised the manor became the haunt of all sorts of intriguing characters. I kept the rents cheap and freely accepted magical services in lieu of payment, if the mage was Talented and diligent enough. I had enough to do without overseeing the enchantment of each manor.

  My plans for Spellgarden were a bit grandiose, at first, and it took some patient counsel from Speredek to cool my enthusiasm and tailor my expectations to something reasonable. He was adept at that. He quietly listened to me go on and on about my vision for the place, and then he would very politely point out why my ideas were rubbish without insulting me. In fact, he seemed able to glean the most important parts of my vision and find some way to graft them into the actual development for Spellgarden, satisfying both of us.