a surfeit of wizards 17

 

Chapter 17

 

We circulated; and we were drawn aside by Duke Ogier of the Western Marches.

“Towermaster! Journeywizard!  Clovo told me about your remarkable feat against three terrible demons – I’d like to thank you and congratulate you! It impressed the goblins enough that they were willing to treat with us, which they have never done before, and bought us allies against the creatures of the wilds. I wanted to adopt you as my heir, but the king felt that you would feel torn in your duties.”

“The king was correct, my lord,” I said. “But I thank you most sincerely for the compliment. It is a worrying thing that there is no clear heir to the dukedom.”

“Indeed.  Even if my daughter produces a second son, he would be an infant.  And I do not like my nephew, Moruk.”

“I’ve adopted his niece, as she was ill-treated,” I said. “The queen ratified it.”

“Little Shareen? I have seen less of her than I might have hoped,” said Ogier.

“Uncle Ogier?” said Shareen. “You are sad, but you must not let the sadness take you away. And do not let anyone give you medicine.”

“Shareen is a seer,” I said. “She can see directly ways and paths for the people she looks at, though her general seeing is muddled and frightens her.”

“I’m not surprised; it must be a terrible gift,” said Ogier. “I will settle Shareen as my heir for now, because I know you would help her, Towermaster, if anything happens to me.”

“And I will do anything to help Shareen to!” said Ches.

“My apprentice, and cousin, Ches,” I introduced him.

“What an excellent young man,” said Ogier. I introduced Harmana as well, and as so often happens he shook his head in slight confusion as he forgot that he recognised her.

 

Duke Brandel wanted a word as well.

“Just checking that my ex-wife and her son are happy,” he said.

“Happy and healthy,” I said. “Probably happier and healthier than they’ve ever been.” As a pair of hinny asses, giving milk, and providing some acts of burden for the villagers, they were at least pretty contented, though Renilla had been much disturbed, apparently, when Nosy turned up. She could sense demons, it appeared, since her foray into demonology – and Nosy was her former patron’s boss. “I used the same expedient on the foolish goblin king who had ambitions,” I added.

“Thank you for saving her soul,” said Brandel.  “I’m not looking forward to meeting her again in the afterlife, though.”

“I suspect you can arrange with your favourite deity not to do so,” I said. “It is supposed to be your reward for a virtuous life, after all.”

“Well, that’s what they say,” he said, brightening.

 

Well, that was two of the three dukes who wanted to speak to us, but I somehow doubted that we should win the prize of three out of three. Judging by their sumptuous clothing, anyone would take the Duke of Mattledale and his Lady for the royal couple, as conspicuous consumption more or less defined them. I had not been especially polite to their ducal wizard, either. I doubted I was the favourite person of Duke Persomon and Lady Rohayne.

As it happened, the queen decided to introduce us all to these illustrious persons, so they could not ignore me.

What made it more delicious was that she introduced them to me, suggesting that my status was higher. I have rarely seen sourer faces.

“I must visit the city of Mattlepool sometime,” I said, brightly. “Since Braidfleet, where I have relatives, is opening up more as a port, it might be a good idea to see how our major port is organised.”

“You are to be congratulated on your feats on behalf of Braidfleet,” said the duke. “Gerivek was uncertain how you accomplished so much.”

Was there a little fear in his eyes?

I smiled, brightly.

“Why, I merely gathered storm clouds in the shape of the rune of dispersal to counter the demon’s rune of accumulation formed in the sandbanks. Then it was just a case of moving the fishermen’s houses up the beach beyond; I linked them for ease so that it was one translocation rather than many small ones.”

“It impressed the locals, of course,” said Chessina, with her own bright smile. “But of course, competent wizardry always impresses those unused to magic.”

That paid off a few scores she felt she had with Gerivek.

“Such acts are impossible without some kind of demonic pact,” declared another robed man, didactically, pushing in on the conversation.

“Towermaster, this is Lothamir, ducal wizard of Osierleet,” said the queen, who had been smiling a smile of sufficient gentle malice that suggested that she had hoped we would irritate the ducal couple. “And I suggest, Lothamir, as the Towermaster is our acknowledged expert on destroying demons you might choose your words with more care.”

“I could not manage such a feat,” said Lothamir.

“Yes, but then you had to have your best apprentice taken from you by Florisin, didn’t you?” I said, smiling enigmatically.

He gobbled.

“And it is in your family that the blight of demonology began,” I added, with some steel. “I traced the initial rot to Lady Sheyla, who is not only cousin to Lady Renilla, but also from a cadet branch of the Dukes of Osierleet.”

Studying those dull genealogy texts had paid off.

He gobbled still more.

It was very amusing. Oh, well, court functions do have their compensations for the tedium.

Keep telling yourself that, Castamir, I thought, as I turned and came face to face with a couple who were staring at me as if they wanted to see me eviscerated, immolated, and served between slices of bread to a dragon.

Shareen disappeared behind me this time, and buried herself against my back.

“You have our niece; we placed her in school in good faith. Give her back,” said the man.

“Hardly,” I said. “I am the Towermaster; like the Royal Wizard, I have the right to demand the apprenticeship of any pupil in the school, and the only person with the right to refuse is the apprentice.  My apprentice is also my adoptive daughter as she is an orphan.”

“We’ll see about that; I’ll go to law,” said Lord Moruk.

“Too late; the queen herself ratified it with the heralds,” I said.  “She is no longer anything to do with you.”

“She’s unmanageable, hysterical,” said his wife, Lady Jolinn.

“Her magic finds the demontaint on you unpalatable,” I said. “I can protect you if you will but break your ties with demonology.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” blustered Moruk.

“So, you wouldn’t know what I meant when I told you I am aware that you packed her off to enlarge her life-force by learning control of her magic, waiting until she bleeds to be the most auspicious kind of virgin sacrifice?” I said with a sneer. “And I suppose you’ve never heard of the mirror of Djehuti?” I had suddenly realised why Shareen was still alive, when I saw the greedy look in their eyes. And it disturbed me a lot.

“I haven’t a clue what you mean,” said Moruk. “But you haven’t heard the last of this.”

“Nor have you,” I said, grimly.

They stomped off, angrily.

Shareen emerged.

I should let her and Ches choose a new name; the school only did it in the fourth year as they began specialisation, but for their protection it might be important.

Fishface would not fail to be amused at the irony of another girl called ‘Shareen,’ and would see it as a symbol. Maybe they were already in touch with Nosy. Who might not know the significance; but then again, maybe he would.

“We’re going home,” I said. “You two younger ones are going to take your wizarding names as soon as possible so I can protect you better. Names are power.”

“I know my name, I was given it in a dream,” said Shareen. “My real name is Ascyla.”

“That is lovely,” I said.

“The old language made names with suffixes and prefixes, didn’t it?” said Ches.

“Technically, with prefixes and then suffixes,” I said. He grinned, unabashed.

“Then I’d like to be Castovar,” he said.

“I… yes, if that’s what you would like,” I said. “I’ve got to tell Dragovar about this,” I went on. “He has a need to know about Moruk and Jolinn’s dabbling with demonology.”

“Use the whisper spell, so you can tell him now without anyone being any the wiser,” suggested Chessina.

“You’re right,” I said, and proceeded to do so.

“This could be the breakthrough you were looking for,” Dragovar whispered  back.

It could. So long as I could protect the children.

And it occurred to me that to Nosy, a seer, possession of a human seer sacrificed to him would be a valuable possession indeed.

For now, I wanted to get home as soon as possible.

 

We were on our way out when I was buttonholed by Beretrulle.

“You have a magic dagger which is for demon killing?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“Beretrulle,” she said. “Be in the palace gymnasium at dawn. You need lessons in how to use it properly. And if I can save your life by bullying you in how to fight properly, I’ll do it.”

“I’m grateful,” I said. “I have a live, summoned, and loose demon to deal with.”

“Give me a week of lessons, and you can practise on your own from there,” said Beretrulle.

I wasn’t about to turn that down!

 

We got home safely, and the children retired to bed.

I got out Demonslicer and examined it. Its blade was about eight inches long; a dangerous knife, but not a sword. I might have wished it was a little bigger, if I was to gain some training.

I almost dropped the thing when it obligingly grew to twice the length!

Thebroval had not told me about that little surprise. I could imagine him chuckling though. I raised a glass to him.

Well, all right, I raised a cup to him as I was drinking a nice cup of tea.

The blade was now about the size of the ceremonial sword some dwarves wore.

 

oOoOo

 

I took Chessina and the children as well, of course.  Any advantage they could get would be good.  Beretrulle did not turn a hair. She kitted us all out with a mask made of mesh, gauntlets, and a leather apron each, and gave us a sword.

“This is rebated,” she said.

“Please, general, what is that?” asked Harmana.

“It doesn’t have a sharp edge, as it is used for training,” said Beretrulle.

We spent half an hour walking backwards and forwards, placing our swords into eight different positions; then we had a break, and went through it again, faster.

Shareen, I mean, Ascyla, did not want to start up again.

“I don’t want to kill anything,” she said.

“But you can use it to parry and maybe save the lives of your friends,” said Beretrulle. “I hear you are a seer; knowing that you have to get a blade into a particular parry point ahead of time might save you or others.”

Ascyla went blank faced for a moment; then gave Beretrulle a beaming smile, and took her place beside the rest of us.

“My blade is just a dagger,” I told Beretrulle.

“It’s the body movements that are important,” she said. “Once you can react with a basic sword, you can transfer the skill.”

I bowed to her knowledge.

We were glad to get back and bath; I, for one, was stiff and sore. I did not like to think of how it would be when Beretrulle was hitting us with her rebated weapon.

She called us over for the afternoon as well; it really was to be an intensive course.

“This isn’t the ideal way to learn,” she said. “The ideal way to learn is practising every day for half an hour from as early an age as you can hold a sword.”

“We are grateful for your time,” I said.

“My time is as valuable in training you to keep your head on your shoulders as it is working with the army,” said Beretrulle. “Many of the youths from noble families who go into the academy have been doing this since they were six or seven. And I think they should be encouraged to keep it up, and teach those not of noble birth. It’s good exercise, and exercise is good for the health.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” I said.

 

We devoted the week to Beretrulle’s lessons, between looking into the family trees of those who had been in Renilla’s little coterie, and who were friendly with Sheyla.

It came as no surprise that Jolinn was a relative of both Renilla and Sheyla.

So was one of the other women who had been with Renilla when we got rid of Pointy-Teeth, and I asked Dragovar to put a close watch on her.

And when Moruk and Jolinn left court and went back to their home in the Marches, Chessina and I were ready to follow them.

“I’m coming,” said Beretrulle, when I told her why we were stopping attending her lessons. “What? I’m a priestess to two war gods, and if nothing else I can call on the power of Aregor or Selena to make a blade temporarily magical.  It still counts.”

“That is handy,” I conceded.

“I don’t have enough magic to be a wizard, but it runs in the family, and I have enough to be used by a god as a channel of their will,” said Beretrulle. “And obviously it all comes from Arcana, but the gods have to bow to her as well.”

I had not thought about godly magic before, but it made sense.