Chapter 10
I wore two items of jewellery. My ring of protection against bladed weapons, and the amulet of elven work with the moonstone gem. And I only wore that to see if anyone looked at it with more recognition than they had a right to have. My robe, which was rich, dark, and sumptuous, spoke for itself, and I saw Gerivek attempting to estimate its value and realising that it was a cloth that was vastly superior to any the dwarves usually traded.
“My dear fellow!” he said. “That’s a magnificent brocade. I did not think the dwarves sold their best pieces.”
I smiled my best enigmatic smile.
“They don’t,” I said.
“But… where did you get it?”
“Oh, it was a gift from the dwarves,” I said, waving a hand. “I get on rather well with them.”
“That must have been a considerable service you provided,” he tried again.
Enigmatic smile time once more.
He was chewing on his liver.
“So, this supposed war that was brewing with the elves; care to share how you managed to deflect it… Towermaster?” he asked.
“Oh, turned up, freed the elven nobility from ensorcellment, dealt with the demonic influence, came home,” I said, waving a hand. “Once the source of the problem became apparent, it was all pretty straightforward.”
“I hear you were given unicorn horns,” said Gerivek.
“I believe I satisfied the elven court. They were shed; not harvested.”
“And you went to the abyssal plane to kill this demon?”
I shrugged.
“No need,” I said. “It was a half-demon; and his soul is with Emaxtiphrael.”
“You are certain?”
“Yes.”
“But how….”
“Did you want to ask Emaxtiphrael for confirmation? I don’t mind,” I said.
He glared. For some reason, I think he thought I was being facetious.
“Where’s that old fool, Lothamir?” asked Clovo.
“He was too busy to attend,” said Dragovar, blandly.
“Too busy? Busy is when you’re fighting irritants on the border, but I made it,” said Clovo. “Too busy with what?”
“He did not specify,” said Dragovar.
“Oh, well, we shall get on better without him,” said Clovo. “Who was invited besides various priests?”
“A few independent wizards,” said Dragovar. “I think everyone is here; I see Rathar of Westery, high priest of Aregor, the war god; Lady Laria, priestess of Selena-Healer; and I imagine Beretrulle is representing the Warriors of the Divine Moonlight, as well as Aregor. And there’s The Masked Priest representing the nameless god of endings.”
“Emaxtiphrael, in other words,” I said. “When did he become nameless?”
“It’s a matter of politics,” said Dragovar, severely. “Do try not to stir too much, Castamir, we need a mostly compliant conclave. Please try not to upset the priesthood by letting them know that you’re on chatting terms with their gods.”
“I’m not… well, not exactly,” I said, plaintively.
He glared at me.
“It will upset them,” he said.
“Are you with child, Dragovar, to be so testy?” asked Chessina, sweetly.
Dragovar glared at her as well, and strode to the table at the front, motioning me to follow.
Frigermar was already there with a thick file.
“You can glance through whilst Dragovar is pontificating,” he murmured.
I nodded.
“Thank you,” I said. He had been thorough in auditing the classes. “This is an excellent piece of work. I had some surprising family news, and a breakthrough against the demon who has been causing most of the trouble.”
“Well, that’s worth spending time on,” said Frigermar. “I enjoyed some family business of my own.”
“Well done,” I said, having seen the results. He looked pleased.
“It’s ridiculous that he should only respect me for beating him up,” he muttered.
“But, alas, very real,” I said.
Dragovar gave us a pointed look and banged his gavel.
He got silence, more or less, and launched into a speech about why he had called this meeting. I was startled out of my reading when he declared, “Castamir, the Towermaster will confirm my findings.”
I stood.
I let my aura flare, or even let loose the jaggy colours, as Chessina would have it.
I also banged my staff on the floor and the orb flared, enthusiastically in a number of colours. Apparently my predecessors were in favour of some dramatics.
“It is preposterous!” I allowed my voice to project without having to yell; but let it sound loud. “We looked over the school as a courtesy to Ogramir, and what did we find? Short cuts. The use of wands in the guise of being short staffs. Any fool knows that a juvenile should not be ready to use a staff without burning out his ability, and any wizard starting to use a focus during adolescence will always be stultified for not fully expanding their magical essence!”
“Damn right,” said Florisin, who had come in on Rosie’s arm. “Any wizard not powerful enough to use a staff shouldn’t be relying on toys. In my young day we were taught that it was the sign of coming of age as a mage not merely a wizard to be able to use a staff. And that lewd drinking song started out as a teaching ballad about how levels of mages had larger knobs on the end, and could achieve different colours. Congratulations, Archmage Castamir.”
“Staff and wand lore is not taught in the school,” I said. “Ogramir made light of the Tower staff, as ‘old fashioned,’ and suggested I might like to craft a ‘modern’ staff perhaps four feet long.”
“Preposterous! You’d have burned it out,” said Florisin. “For those who are incapable of the use of staffs, a wand may be useful for particular projects, being easier to aim than amulets. And may be crafted for hedge-witches and the like to boost their small power for the good of their community. Not a skill which should be forgotten, but not for the shortcuts to make a shoddy wizard up to being mediocre.”
Someone started singing, ‘The size of the knob on the staff is a sign of a wizard’s true power…’
I used my will through my own staff to send a shockwave to knock him on his arse.
“If I may resume?” I asked, silkily.
I had a rapt audience.
“There is no cause for complaint in the classrooms of the herb and plant lore classes, nor in alchemy and potion making,” I said. “I found the enchantress to be competent but too swayed by Ogramir. I am inclined towards removing Ogramir entirely as a bad influence, as he leans towards short cuts, but I have not ascertained if Frigermar, who has been doing an excellent job of auditing the classes, would take it on.”
“But he’s a failed wizard,” said Gerivek.
“I’m more inclined to think the rot is deeper and has been in place longer than recent years, and that Frigermar was failed by his tutors, who could not accommodate his talents,” I snapped. “A man who can construct powerful and useful potions and spells is not a failed wizard. However, a man of innovation is a man needed to guide young minds. Resuming! I was not wholly impressed by the class of Divination, but it is such a hit and miss skill that there’s a problem of finding someone capable and willing to teach it, and cognisant that it is not always reliable. I understand that Drilego, who runs it, has more credence than a mere seer, having been an actuarial wizard engaged in casting auguries for the insurance of ship cargoes, and I believe a requirement of 75% accuracy is called for in the job, as in weather seers.”
“That is so,” confirmed Gerivek.
“I was appalled by the so-called war mage,” I said, “I fancy he’s been killing more young war wizards sent to the marches than any one threat from the wilderlands. I want him gone, and I want someone competent, who doesn’t teach a team of wizards to bunch up to fight a dragon. I understand the team of elementalists are competent. The witch who teaches the school of control… Frigermar, would you explain what you wrote? It is so shocking I want to hear it from you.”
“She uses control spells on older male students for her own gratification,” said Frigermar. “I put her on probation, but I’d like to see her sacked. I came across this quite by accident, returning to the classroom because I had left something behind. I called in a mind-healer from the temple of Selene to help the boys involved.”
“I can confirm this,” said the priestess of Selene. “Disgraceful.”
“A lack of moral fibre,” I said, sententiously. “Perhaps you would roughly finish those schools I have missed?”
“Yes, Towermaster,” said Frigermar. “Transmogrification was taught in a pedestrian sort of way, but within the bounds of adequacy; Summoning seemed to me to be a class in which I was an outsider, and I suspect that the class might have been tending towards more demon-raising than summoning small creatures to perform random tasks, but I’m not qualified to truly check that out. Translocation skills were not taught badly enough to consider changes as such, though I suspect higher level translocations might be beyond the wizard set to teach it. I do not know how to fold space to make a gate, for example, but I understand the theory behind it, of making a tunnel through a fifth dimension, even as I understand why ley-line travel is faster. I received no impression that even the fifth-year students could answer a question on such travel.”
I nodded to him.
“The situation is indeed dire,” said Clovo. “I’ll second your suggestion to ask Frigermar to step up as headmaster, and replace Ogramir. He has surely made enough from bribes to take in children of dubious magical skill to make them better hedge-witches for their mercantile fathers, denying the places to the poor with more skill. Let him live on his ill-gotten gains.”
The maggots really were crawling out of the woodwork.
“I would like a council of wizards to prosecute the female who has been abusing the boys,” I said. “It is illegal; it is rape and assault.”
“I’ll send a team to take her into custody,” said Beretrulle, exiting.
“Good,” said Frigermar. “I wasn’t sure how far my remit in auditing went.”
“Your remit as headmaster is second only to Dragovar,” I said. “If you will take it.”
“If I can help young minds achieve their potential with less poking of square pegs into round holes, I would be delighted,” said Frigermar. “I may want to hire more staff, and do some sacking, and please can you come and look over the School of Summoning?”
“I will,” I said. “I’ll come as your secretary, incognito, and stick my nose in. Is there any dispute over what is needed?”
“The priesthood would like to see a class of religious instruction in the school,” said Asuellora.
“I believe that instruction about the aspects of Arcana is adequately covered,” said Frigermar. “I believe that it may be mentioned that the local god names are merely for the peasantry and cover Arcana and her siblings. After all, nobody with an education believes in such a thing as a deity represented by a natural body like the sun or the moon, even if some places of nature are under the protection of powerful spirits.”
She went a number of interesting colours, and shut up.
Those convened put forward a number of ideas, some more practical than others, but we wrote them all down. Frigermar could see if any of the wilder suggestions might be modified; and I left it to him. It was his school, now, after all.
I have to be honest.
We broke out the mead, and ended the day with a singsong, in which that song was sung again, and the initial verses teaching recognition of a mage, warlock, and archmage were discarded in preference of the bawdy version written long ago by schoolboys, and which stuck in the memory more than the original.
Florisin was singing as loudly as anyone. So was Dragovar.
I used the Arcana Hygeina aspect to cast the sobering spell. Chessina would not have been happy if I had not. And an unhappy Chessina is very difficult to live with.
No comments:
Post a Comment