Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  “Wait till they see our table manners,” Alvin said.

  “What manners?” another bandit said.

  “Exactly,” Sally replied. “Seriously. You’d think they’d be more grateful that we saved their asses.”

  “Yeah,” Gormer said. “Before their leader got killed, I saw what he had in mind. He had orders to kill them all and blame it all on Sally’s tribe.”

  “What!” Sally exclaimed. “You didn’t tell us earlier?”

  “I was resting,” Gormer said. “And you were out burying bodies.”

  “You were out wasting yourself with drugs,” Tarkon growled.

  “About that,” Moxy said, sitting across from Gormer. “I have something that should help you with the headaches.”

  “I like my opium,” Gormer said, lifting his bloody eyes.

  “Where the hell are you getting opium?” Tarkon asked.

  “I have a guy at Lake Bicaz,” he replied.

  “You mean you had a guy,” Tarkon replied. “None of us will ever get within ten miles of Lungu Fortress again.”

  “This guy brought so much of it back from the Great Salt Sea. He says he traveled all over the world. I thought he might tell me the best place for me to wander next,” Gormer said. “I’ll find a way.”

  “Yes,” Astrid replied. “You will. That’s what Moxy was saying. She has another way for you.”

  “Does it involve sex?” Gormer asked. “Because if that’s what she’s talking about… ”

  Moxy growled like a cat, and her claws extended from her fingertips. Some of the bandits stood up and backed away.

  “Easy, Moxy,” Astrid said, resting her hand on her arm.

  “If the asshole doesn’t want help…” Moxy growled.

  “He does,” Astrid said. “He just wants us to work for it. Right, Gormer? Isn’t that what you do—Find people that actually give a shit about you and then do everything you can to make them regret it?”

  “Whatever,” Gormer replied, waving them off, before he laid his head down again.

  “I found some herbs and other plants near the bandit camp back east. I can make a tincture that will help him stay away from the opium. It will also help with the headaches and the nosebleeds when he uses his magic.”

  “Training, discipline, and proper intention can help him channel magical energy,” Astrid said. “Unfortunately, Gormer has no discipline and as for intention, he seems to do everything for the wrong reason.”

  Gormer lifted a hand and extended his middle finger without lifting his head.

  “At least I can help him stay away from the drugs,” Moxy said. “He’s too unstable when he’s high.”

  Gormer just giggled at the bandits, who sat down again upon seeing Moxy’s claws retract.

  More bandits came over, followed by a procession of villagers with a small wagon loaded down with food.

  The table filled up quickly as pots of beef with cabbage, carrots, and potatoes were placed on the table. Some of the bandits literally drooled on themselves as their eyes went wide. Villagers sat among the bandits looking a bit nervous.

  “I take it you don’t get much beef,” one of the villagers said.

  “We usually don’t kill your cows,” Alvin answered. “And when we steal it off the tribute, it’s usually more valuable to us in trade.”

  “Maybe I’ll stay behind and help guard the village if we get to eat beef,” a bandit said as he stood up and reached for a pot.

  Sally jumped up on the table, feet planted squarely between two steaming pots and slapped the bandit on the side of the head. “Don’t reach in there with your damn hands!” she exclaimed. “Show some damn self-control.”

  The slapped bandit made a comical pouty face and rubbed his smarting head. “Fighting and burying dead meat makes me hungry.”

  The villagers passed out plates and utensils and set down serving spoons by the pots. Sally walked up and down the table making sure nobody started a food riot.

  Astrid herself struggled against the urge to stuff food into her mouth with her bare hands. All the fighting, healing and drawing energy had her body drained. She almost groaned when Sally insisted on making a speech before they ate.

  “I know our presence here isn’t exactly welcome. But Astrid has shown us that we don’t need to fear the assessors or compliance officers from now on. We’re not hiding in the woods anymore. We’re not going to let them hunt us anymore.”

  “We’ll have to clear out more land then,” one of the villagers said. “For a few more cows.”

  “What?” Alvin asked.

  Sally looked confused.

  “And we’ll need another field of grain for the cows,” another villager said.

  “I’m sure you’re all good with an axe,” the first villager said.

  “Let’s see how good they are with tilling soil and planting,” another villager said.

  Then, it seemed to dawn on Sally. The villagers were talking about growing food to support new neighbors.

  She sat down trying to hide the tears in her eyes. One of the villagers stood up and started filling plates with food.

  Even Gormer picked up his head and shovelled some food in his mouth as he swayed in his seat.

  Lungu Fortress

  Protector Lungu recalled his son from the field. After a week of bandit raids on the tribute wagons, they ended October under serious stress. Clarence and Jank were no closer to bringing the villages of the Eastern District to heel.

  They had just seen the first light snowfall. It wouldn’t be long before the Toll Road was barely passable. There was a reason that tribute season happened in the fall months.

  Protector Lungu sat in his inner sanctum surrounded by his secretaries and accountants waiting for his son.

  Clarence pushed through the inner office doors and froze as the ice melted from his winter furs. He found his father and his functionaries seated on one side of the boardroom table.

  “Where is your business partner?” Lungu asked by way of greeting his son.

  “He’s attending to the problems in the Eastern District,” Clarence said, reaching for a chair. “We have called in his elite compliance force.”

  “That’s just as well. Don’t sit,” Protector Lungu said, resting his hands on the table. “This won’t take long.”

  Clarence folded his hands behind his back and stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, just like a cadet.

  “The Treasurer has a report for you.” The Protector nodded his head at the old man to his left who pushed forward a thick, leather-bound ledger. “These are all of your expenses thus far as per your contract with Jank. A contract, I might point out, that you wrote as being contingent on security fees. As we can’t collect those fees, Jank is being paid through the treasury. Part of that treasury is your inheritance.”

  “We can renegotiate—”

  The Protector held up his hand. “You, can renegotiate,” he said. “But I advise against it. We have already lost face with the other Lieutenants over this. There is much talk in the keeps of your weakness in this matter. I refuse to let your weakness become mine. I’ve already rebuffed several offers from your counterparts to take over your failing concern. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is for me?”

  “Father, I don’t—”

  The Protector held up his hand. “That is precisely the point, son. I called you here to study these reports. Once you have studied them thoroughly, I expect you to present me with a new business plan by tomorrow at noon.”

  “A new business plan?” Clarence said, dropping his arms by his side. He opened his mouth to object, but saw the expression on his father’s face. It wasn’t the look a father would give to a son. It was the stare reserved by a boss to an underling.

  Protector Lungu dismissed his ministers and secretaries with a wave of his hand. The old men shuffled out of the room mumbling and grumbling about farm reports and ledger entries.

  The Protector studied his son for a few moments before
getting up from his chair and stepping around the long boardroom table.

  “I told you not to turn this into a fight,” the Protector said. “And that is precisely what you did. You tried to squeeze the villages and make them yours by way of Jank’s company. Is it not enough that you are my heir?”

  “No,” Clarence answered flatly. “It isn’t enough, father.”

  The Protector shook his head. “So, you don’t want to wait for your old man to pass the reins to you. You want to carve out territory of your own. I get that. Your late mother would be proud. We both raised you to have ambition. But I thought I taught you to know your limitations.”

  “Why don’t you let me lead the other Lieutenants against this Astrid and—”

  “You are not listening!” the Protector bellowed. “We appear weak! If we call in our army to deal with the bandits, how will that look? The other lieutenants are waiting to see how we handle this. Don’t you think their ideas are similar to yours?”

  “It will look like we are solving a problem,” Clarence said. “I’ve told you for years that the lieutenants are beginning to rival our power. Make them work for us for a change.”

  “I agree, son. But you aggravated both problems by squeezing the villagers. And now, we’ve come full circle,” the Protector said. “I want you to use Jank’s men already in place in the Eastern District. No more expansion of the contract. Focus on the problem and take it out. Use your head for once and not your fists.”

  “Yes, Father. I understand,” Clarence said. He turned on his heel to leave.

  “Don’t forget your reports,” the Protector called.

  Clarence kept walking and didn’t stop until he reached the stables. He rode hard into the cold evening up the Toll Road to Keep 52.

  21

  Returning to Argan

  Astrid was glad she followed the advice of her friends.

  A good meal and a full night of sleep made her feel much better. Her crossbow wounds still ached, but she felt her full strength returned. Still, she traveled with nagging worry. She had to meditate to keep her mind away from that uneasiness. That helped her heal, but the worry always returned.

  They rode hard over the back-country trails. The work of the swift and cunning scout helped them make better time on the Toll Road when there were no officials around. They arrived back in the Eastern District in the early afternoon.

  When they neared the hidden bandit camp, a small troop of camouflaged bandits emerged from the woods. The scout nearly shot one of them with his bow.

  “It’s us!” the young woman shouted, raising her hands. “We’re with Woody!”

  The scout let the tension off his bow. “Sorry,” he said. “Can’t be too careful.”

  “We need a password,” Astrid said. “So we don’t start fighting each other.”

  The rest of the bandit patrol stepped out of the woods in their camouflage suits.

  “I need me one of those suits,” the scout said.

  “I can make you one,” another of the bandit patrol said. They couldn’t see his face, but he sounded like a young man. “I’ll just need more cordage to make the netting.”

  “Netting?” the scout inquired.

  “Yeah. It’s basically a suit made out of nets,” the bandit patrol explained. “You stick leaves and brush and sticks into the netting so you look just like the woods. There’s an art to it. Will you be around? I can show you.”

  Everyone looked at Astrid.

  “Yes,” Astrid replied. “We’ll be around. In fact, we will need everyone we can get to stick around the area of Argan.”

  “We’re already heading that way,” the female scout said. “Woody called in the rest of our tribe and George’s people just started coming in when they heard about Jank’s men.”

  Astrid began riding again. The female patrol member walked beside her while the rest of the group melted back into the woods to resume their rounds.

  “I was going to ask Woody for a full report,” Astrid said. “But maybe you can fill me in.”

  “Well, we’ve seen increased patrols on the Toll Road. They posted keep troops every two miles. They’re starting to send out scouts into our territory—something they never did before.”

  “They’re getting ready for something,” Astrid said. She turned to Moxy. “Maybe you and Gormer can do some recon tonight.”

  Moxy arched her eyebrows at Astrid, then glared at Gormer, who rode his horse with slumped shoulders. He had been half asleep all day. Moxy shook her head slightly, not wanting to object to Astrid out in the open.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Astrid said with an easy smile.

  “Look forward to it,” Moxy said with her normally reedy voice dipping a few octaves.

  They arrived to a greatly subdued camp. There was no fire. Woody had ordered a perimeter guard of fifteen people. There were caches of arrows staged around the perimeter as well as in the center of the semicircular camp. They had arranged upturned tables as cover near the center of the camp.

  “Looking good, Woody,” Astrid said, as the big, red-headed man trotted up to her.

  “We got your message,” he said. He turned to George. “Your scouts did a great job. All three made it.”

  George sighed his relief and looked much more relaxed.

  “We have a lot of work to do,” Astrid said. “I’m relieved they haven’t hit us yet, but I’m also very surprised.”

  “I want to set up traps in the forest,” Woody said. “I’ll need help,” he added, looking at George.

  George handed his horse over to a boy who was on stable duty. Some other young people came over to collect the other animals as everyone dismounted.

  “All of Sally’s people headed back home,” Woody said. “Only about ten stayed behind to help. They didn’t want to go, even though I urged them to.”

  “A wise move,” George said. “You were right to order them home.” He paused for a moment, then smiled. “Who’d have thought bandits would come together like this?”

  “It’s very strange,” Woody said. “But I want to see more of it.”

  “It’s the only way we’re all going to make it,” Astrid said. “Villagers and bandits alike all have to pull together.”

  Somber faces stared back at her. Tarkon walked the perimeter, casting approving looks at the preparations while Astrid, Moxy, and Gormer went over to a lean-to set up under the rock overhang.

  When they neared the table, Gormer suddenly made a right turn and headed for the woods. Astrid reached out in a flash and pulled him in close. She roped her arm around his shoulders and squeezed hard.

  She whispered in his ear. “I see you, asshole. If you really want to die, I can arrange that. If you have anything left in you at all, you’ll sit at this table and you’ll do what I tell you.”

  His scrawny frame shook under Astrid’s clutch. Gormer mumbled something that sounded like “Fuck off.” But when Astrid let him go, he paused for a moment, then slouched into a chair.

  George examined Gormer through slotted eyes for a moment. He studied the looks directed at Gormer from the other parties. The expressions ranged from disgust to indifference. It was clear that most didn’t like what they saw. When he met Astrid’s eyes, his face lightened for a moment. Astrid shot her eyes over to Gormer, then nodded at George with confidence.

  “I guess we’re all here,” George said. “I’ll fill you in, then we can make a plan.”

  “One of your patrols already told me about the new security on the Toll Road. She didn’t mention hard numbers or schedules.”

  “That’s the thing,” George said. “These fuckers are smart. The shift changes seem random. It’s been hard for us to estimate their numbers because we’re not seeing the same people in the same posts at the same time.

  We are guessing that they have close to a hundred regular keep guards supplemented by Jank’s mercs. I don’t mind telling you, Astrid. These new guys scare me. They are disciplined. They’re not mages, but they mi
ght as well be.”

  Astrid nodded her head. “I never fault someone for healthy, life-preserving fear. They give me pause as well. Back at Bellford, they fought to the last man.”

  “They’re cold,” Gormer said from beneath his hood. “They do what they’re ordered. They’ve killed men, women, and children, and they were prepared to do it again.”

  “They were ordered to slaughter that village and make it look like we did it,” Astrid said.

  “And they call us the criminals,” Woody growled.

  “Looks like they underestimated you again, Astrid,” George said. Astrid had to fight back a smirk. She had never seen a man bat his eyes at a woman before. The others noticed his look and shifted in their seats.

  George recovered quickly and tried to hide his red face.

  “They underestimated all of us,” she said. “But we can’t count on that forever. It’s a good start, though.”

  “What are we thinking?” Moxy asked. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “Something tells me, you’ll do just fine,” George said.

  Moxy shrugged and lifted her palms to the sky for a second. Gormer retreated back under his hood, but he was still with them. Astrid could feel it.

  “Tell me about your patrols,” Astrid said.

  Woody practically winced. “All my scouts are teens. I hate using them, but it feels like I don’t have much choice. After Alisa, though… ”

  “I’m afraid we don’t have much choice either,” Astrid said. “But they bring good intel. Why are we not posting guards outside the perimeter?” Astrid asked.

  “Before yesterday, we didn’t have enough people,” Woody replied. “But we can and should start posting guards. Some of the villagers at Argan are shaping up to be halfway decent fighters.”

  “That will make us thin all over,” Astrid said. “But if we’re smart, we might be able to stop an attack while the enemy is still on the march.”

  Tarkon spoke for the first time. “We have the advantage of the forest. They have a large force. We can expect upwards of a hundred-and-fifty. We should plan for that. If they’re stupid, they’ll send them all in at once. If they’re smart, they’ll divide the forces and come at Argan from multiple points, then converge.”