Gavin Cross lifted his left hand, only his index finger and thumb extended, and a server faded out of the crowd. He turned his head just enough to direct his words to the server, but the angle was sufficient that neither Baron Torstead nor Varkas could read his lips.
The server, however, was in plain view; they read her response, “Yes, Milord; it shall be done.”
Gavin held his gaze on Varkas’s eyes for a few moments more, before he turned and disappeared into the crowd. Watching the back of the black-robed wizard fade into the finery of those invited to the royal event, Varkas realized he was covered in a cold sweat.
That night, Count Varkas and his party vanished as they traveled to the Count’s home in the city. He had an estate and lands in the southeastern portion of the kingdom, but he maintained a residence in the capital to assist with his duties as a member of the King’s Privy Council.
The next night, a nobleman known to maintain various business interests with Count Varkas vanished as well. The man’s wife woke up the following morning to find herself alone in bed, with no indication when or if her husband departed.
Over the next week, twenty-five more people vanished without a trace. They ranged from minor merchants and two influential people within the Vushaar’s Guild of Drovers to several high officers in Vushaar’s Royal Bank and three officers on the Vushaari Army’s General Staff, who routinely attended the War Council meetings.
Gavin sat at the table in his lab. The diagrams of the composite effect to create the slave brands held his entire focus and full attention. As he examined the diagrams, he would write notes on the top sheet of a stack of parchment at his right; when that sheet was full of notes, it would join its many fellows facedown on a pile further to the right. Now and then, Gavin would make some whispered statement that was clearly a vocalization of his primary thought at the time, which often puzzled—or outright confused—Braden who stood over Gavin’s left shoulder.
Declan sat at the far end of the table, working on his own stack of notes. As one of the world’s most renowned bards, he felt it his duty to chronicle history as it unfolded before him, and he was writing down his notes, thoughts, and experiences to join all the pages he had compiled since meeting Gavin. When the man who dueled Milthas takes an apprentice for the first time in six thousand years and then names that man his heir…well…history was about to become a runaway freight wagon, and Declan wanted to record as much of it as he could.
Declan looked up at the sound of footfalls on the steps behind him that came around his left side. He saw the slave he’d hired at Gavin’s request. She wrung her hands as her nerves compelled her to stop just a short distance away from Declan and not all that close to Gavin.
“Excuse me,” she said. Her voice was so soft and tentative, Declan almost didn’t catch what she said.
Declan smiled and laid aside his stylus, slipping out of his chair. He approached the woman from behind and saw her flinch and almost jump when he brushed his fingertips across her left shoulder.
“I’m sorry; forgive me,” she said. “I would never disturb, but there’s someone to see him.”
“You’ll never break through his focus if you keep trying as you were. Be loud and assertive. Force him to take notice of you, or he never will. It’s not rudeness on his part; he simply is so focused and consumed by his thoughts that none of us or this place exist to him right now.”
The poor woman looked like Declan had just ordered her death.
“He will never harm you; I promise you that.”
The woman turned and approached Gavin, who still betrayed no reaction to her presence. Declan watched the woman lift her left hand, lower it back to her side, and then lift it again before she placed it on Gavin’s shoulder.
“You have a visitor,” she said in a strong, clear voice.
Gavin turned to her, saying, “Huh?”
“I said there’s someone here to see you.”
Gavin frowned and looked at Declan over the woman’s shoulder. Declan shrugged. Gavin turned to Braden, and Braden shrugged.
Gavin turned back to face the woman and said, “Okay. Who is it?”
“He introduced himself as Varne, the Royal Herald.”
Gavin sat in silence for several moments as his eyes flicked back and forth as if he were reading several pages. At last, he spoke. “Hmmm…I have no idea why he’s here. Let’s go ask.”
Gavin indicated for the woman to lead the way, and Declan chose to follow as well, with Braden falling in behind him. They trooped up the stairs and found Varne standing in the vacant space that would’ve been a parlor if the house were actually furnished and used as a house.
“Good day to you, Varne,” Gavin said as he entered the room. “What brings you so far from the palace?”
“Good day to you as well, Gavin. His Majesty asked me to enquire if you might have some time to speak with him in the somewhat near future. He stressed to me that I should not interrupt your research in any way or intimate that this is some kind of royal command if you were at a critical juncture with your work.”
Gavin turned to look behind him and, seeing Braden, said, “Braden, are we at a critical juncture?”
“How should I know? I’m still trying to catch up to your understanding of the work.”
“Ah,” Gavin said, turning back to Varne. “Well, there you have it. Is the King free now?”
“I…uh…well, I don’t know really, but I’m sure you wouldn’t have to wait long if he isn’t free.”
Gavin turned to the woman. “Are Mariana, Lillian, and Wynn still upstairs with Jasper and Xythe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When they finally take a break, please tell them I’ve gone to answer the King’s request for a few moments of my time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right, Varne. Let’s head out.”
Gavin looked up from his seat in the King’s private study when he heard the door open. When he saw Terris and Q’Orval enter, he stood and nodded his greeting, extending his hand.
Terris and Q’Orval both shook his hand warmly and proceeded to seats of their own, Terris gesturing for Gavin to resume his.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Terris said. “I hope Varne didn’t interrupt anything sensitive.”
“Oh, not at all. I’m still deconstructing the composite effect that created the slave brands. Compared to that, what we did for your city’s wall was child’s play. I tell you…if I’m ever half the arcanist my mentor was, I’ll be amazed.”
“I see. Gavin, I find myself in a bit of a situation, and I’m hoping you can help.”
“Of course, Terris. If it is within my power to help, you need only make me aware.”
“We’ve had a number of disappearances lately, and some of them…well…some of them had access to sensitive information about our city’s defenses and financial institutions. Even if I win the civil war, the knowledge some of these people possess could cripple the country.”
“Disappearances, you say?”
“Yes.”
“Were they officers on your General Staff, a few high-level bankers, and assorted others by chance? Maybe a nobleman on your Privy Council?”
“Yes…”
“You don’t need to worry about them ever presenting a threat to the country, Terris.”
Terris and Q’Orval shared a glance before Terris directed his attention back to Gavin. “Gavin…I’ve heard some things that may have occurred at the banquet a week ago. Forgive me for being so blunt, but what did you do?”
Gavin sat in silence for several moments before answering, “What did I do? Not all that much. I just gave an order.”
“You gave an order.”
“Yes, Terris, I did. I don’t know your opinion of Count Varkas, but I assure you that he was no friend. I heard him clearly say the only place Kiri deserved to be was in his bedchamber, begging for mercy.”
“By the gods,” Q’Orval said, his tone hushed. “It’s
a wonder you didn’t burn him to ash right there.”
“I won’t lie by telling you the thought didn’t cross my mind, but in the end, I decided it was past time I devoted some attention to learning as much about Count Varkas as I could. The order I gave was to have him interrogated by individuals who are supreme masters of their craft. During those conversations, Count Varkas volunteered several people who were working with him toward preparing to move against whoever wins this civil war, using the chaos and weakness of the immediate aftermath to gain power. Even if he hadn’t had the designs for Kiri that he did, that information right there sealed his fate.”
“It’ll cause all kinds of problems when those bodies finally surface.”
“Terris,” Gavin said, “I’m Kirloth. Do you honestly expect any bodies will ever surface?”
“Well, what if one of these interrogators announce what they did to the world?”
Gavin pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head. “The sun will rise in the west before one of my people ever considers betraying me. They hold their service to me in too high regard and consider it an incredible honor. Good day, Terris.”
Gavin left, with Declan trailing close behind. Terris and Q’Orval watched them leave before Terris turned to his close friend.
“Thoughts?”
Q’Orval leaned further back in the chair and sighed, saying, “I’m remembering a section from Volume II of Mivar’s Histories.”
“Which one?”
“The section where Mivar chronicles the creation and formation of the Wraiths of Kirloth.”
“What’s a military unit of the Godswar have to do with this?”
Q’Orval lifted his gaze to meet his king’s eyes. “I know how much you study history. Have you ever seen any accounts of them being disbanded?”
“Oh.”
Chapter 34
Days passed. Gavin spent almost every waking minute in the basement lab, devoting his full effort and intellect to deciphering the diagrams of Marcus’s ritualized composite effect. Braden assisted where he could, but by and large, he spent more time learning from Gavin’s work. In the end, Gavin covered the tabletop with notes, breaking down the diagrammed composite effect into its constituent parts, and separate pages showing how those parts interconnected.
From there, Gavin summoned the slave Declan had hired for him. Over the course of several days, he examined the slave brand through his skathos, using Divination invocations to highlight all the tendrils of magic woven through the woman’s body from the brand. Braden took notes as Gavin relayed what he learned.
Gavin sat—almost flopped—in one of the chairs surrounding the parchment-strewn table in his basement lab. He took a deep breath and released it as a slow, heavy sigh.
“I think we’ve made as much progress as we’re going to make.” He scratched at his chin a few moments. “We need…a new perspective.”
“How do we get that?” Braden asked, his rumbling voice almost echoing off the basement walls.
“No way I’m proud of,” Gavin said. “I’m going to prey on someone’s desperation.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
Gavin pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room to the stairs. He took the stairs two at a time and searched the house for Declan, who was nowhere to be found. Instead, he stepped outside the house and approached one of Declan’s associates who watched the house. This particular associate was a woman who bore a rather faint resemblance to Kiri, with her dark hair and olive complexion.
“Yes, Milord?”
“I have a request. I’m not…I don’t…this is not a request I would make under normal circumstances, but I find myself with few choices that are dwindling fast. I need a woman with children who is close to desperation…maybe a refugee. Well, it doesn’t have to be a woman, but to my mind, a woman would be far more disposed to make the kind of sacrifice I plan to ask of her to save her children than a man. Besides, as much as I would prefer otherwise, men seem to have more options in society than women.”
“Milord, if I may, you sound more than a little conflicted about this.”
Gavin chuckled. “That’s good, I suppose…because I am. The problem is that I don’t see any other way to obtain the knowledge I need. If I’m successful, this will ultimately lead to removing Kiri’s slave mark.” Gavin fell silent for several moments before he lifted his eyes to meet those of the woman he faced. “Are you willing to find me that woman?”
The woman nodded once at long last.
“Thank you.”
A short time later, the woman returned. She ushered a woman into the main room of the house and departed. Gavin sat on a simple chair with no arms, looking over his new guest from head to toe, but his expression bore no lust or leer. The woman was tanned but not dark enough to be the olive complexion so prevalent among Vushaari. Her stringy, blond hair clung to her head, matted and unwashed. Her hands and forearms were dirty, her fingernails almost black from all the dirt and grime under them. A simple cotton shift covered her body; Gavin thought it might have once been white or perhaps an off-white but no longer. She wore no shoes.
“That lady said you might have a job for me,” she said, her voice almost tentative.
Gavin nodded. “I do. Please, sit. I want to explain the situation, what I’m asking, and what I’m offering. I do not want a blanket acceptance; this should be an informed choice on your part.”
The woman wrung her hands for a moment. “Is that nice lady really feeding my children?”
Gavin shrugged. “Is that what she said she would do while we talked?”
“Yes.”
“Then, you have no need to worry or fear. They will be fed well and be safer than you could imagine.”
Tension left the woman, and she sat across from Gavin, folding her hands in her lap.
“Forgive me if I tell you anything you already know. I don’t know your background, so I’m going to tell you all I can think of that will be pertinent.” Gavin indicated his attire and medallion with his left hand. “As you can see, I am an arcanist, specifically a wizard of House Kirloth. What you may not know is that I am the head of my House.”
“Oh, no, sir. Everyone’s talking about Kirloth and his Apprentices. It’s all over the city how the walls would’ve been breached, and the siege lost, without their work.”
“I see. Well, then. For some time, I have been devoting all my available time to researching the slave marks and a method to remove them. I understand the effect that creates the slave brands, but I can’t shake the feeling I’m missing crucial pieces of information. I have devised a method to record what happens magically when someone is branded, and I have a slave brand. What I am proposing is that you allow yourself to be branded by a slaver we’ve…well…acquired. If you agree, I’ll pay you a stipend and provide quarters here in this house for you and your children. The time will come when I’m ready to try removing the slave mark, and there is the chance that will fail and result in your death. If my test does indeed fail and result in your death, I give you my word that I will see to your children’s care and ensure they receive the finest education and opportunities to be found anywhere in the world.”
“Let me be sure I understand. You want to have your pet slaver brand me and then try to remove the brand. If you fail and I die, you’ll see to my children’s care and education. What happens if you succeed?”
“Well, for one thing, it’ll be like you were never branded in the first place, but I see no reason for you not to be rewarded for taking this risk. I’ll see to it that you have the funds necessary to set yourself and your children up in whatever life you desire.”
“Why not have someone brand you?”
Gavin chuckled. “A slaver tried already. There’s a protection built into the effect that created the slave brands that protects wizards from being branded. Depending on the strength of wizard the slaver tries to brand, the result is anything from being marked themselves to the most agonizing dea
th you can imagine. I witnessed the agonizing death.”
“Oh.”
Silence descended on the room and maintained for quite a while. The situation was reaching the point where Gavin was going to ask for a response when the woman lifted her head and looked Gavin right in his eyes.
“Ivarson’s army killed my husband and burned our farm and everything we had when we wouldn’t give our crops to them. I don’t know why they didn’t take us. This city is overrun with refugees, and every one of them has a story similar to mine. Very few of them will ever have any opportunities offered them. Starvation or worse are all my children have to look forward to, and I can’t remember the last time I ate, for giving them every scrap of food I get. I accept.”
“Well, let’s start with some food and a bath for you. Then, we’ll get you and your children some clothes. It’s already late afternoon, and I’ll need to find out what my associate did with our pet slaver. Let’s pick a room for you upstairs, and we’ll make a list of any furniture it needs and whatever else you or your children need. We’ll proceed as soon as I’ve located the pet slaver.”
Chapter 35
“Gavin, may I speak with you?”
Gavin pulled his attention away from his notes and looked to his right. He saw Lillian standing a short distance away, her fists on her hips. Her facial expression didn’t communicate happiness, either.
“Of course, Lillian. What do you need?”
“Are you really going to have a slaver brand some refugee woman?”
Gavin nodded. “Yes, I am. We’ve entered into an agreement for her to assist me with my research.”
“Did you tell her what the cost of failure is…for her?”
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