a surfeit of wizards 19

 

Chapter 19

 

I looked right into that deadly maw, lined with needlesharp teeth; if, that is, one could imagine a needle six or eight inches long. The tendrils of smoke were gathering, issuing from the nostrils and around the tonsils, and it was backwinging to come down with its back claws on us and that tail. And the dome would not stand up to more than one full attack  of all those things. I suffered a moment’s complete insanity; to protect Chessina, I burst out of the area dome, casting a personal one, to draw its attention.

“You ugly worm!” I yelled.

It turned.

It was enough.

As it breathed in to incinerate me, I cast frost ray right down its gullet from close enough to smell its rather sulphurous halitosis.

The scream it gave would be heart-rending, if it wasn’t actually quite a relief, as the gigantic creature reeled back in its death throes and one trailing leg caught the ground, catapulting the gigantic corpse right into the area dome of protection which slowly crumpled, resisting the fall of the dragon just enough for Chessina and Beretrulle to leap clear as the stupid creature chose to die on our rug. The snow under the rest of it hissed and steamed from its heat, and a great mist arose, and the edge of the rug smouldered slightly.

“Oh bother,” I said. Half the rug was now covered by dragon. I called on the tower to push it off, and jerk the rug away.

Chessina flew into my arms.

“Castamir! Don’t be heroic!” she sobbed.

“I knew the dome would not hold,” I said. “I… do the weather wards still work with that thing on the rug?”

Chessina pointed to the snow, landing and stopping on the invisible dome above us.

“We can save ourselves some effort powering the rug if we cut open the dragon’s belly and use its internal heat to keep ourselves warm instead of the warming charms,” said Chessina. “And if need be, we could use the wings to build a shelter.”

“Congratulations, Castamir; you’re a rich man,” said Beretrulle.

“Huh?” I said, intelligently.

“A dragon carcase is worth something in the region of ten thousand suns,” said Beretrulle. “Plus the bounty. You know how much dragon parts are worth.”

“Do you know, I was mostly considering how much we were worth to us to think of it,” I said, faintly.

“I cast an anticoagulation and preservation charm on it,” said Chessina. “While we sit out the storm, I’ll change some rocks into bottles to collect the blood, and we can harvest parts as it cools down.”

“There are still four or more demons out there,” I reminded her.

“It will keep our mind off it,” said Chessina. “I recall you grumbling about wanting dragon scales for amulets. And the liver stones are used in powering heating wards.”

It was surreal. We opened up the dragon to save power to the rug, and with the wing pulled over as well, with a bit of help from the tower, we could power the rug right down. I did lift the dragon enough, though, to get the other wing round to protect us from the ground, and as the wings had cooled somewhat, put the rug back on it.

And we were to be glad we had powered down the rug and opened up the dragon instead.  Incidentally, unless you have to open up a dragon, if you have a weak stomach, don’t. They stink like nothing on earth.  But I could put up with the stink when the demons turned up.

“They’re dead,” said one. “No magic going into their rug.”

“Must be underneath it,” said another. “I’m glad we didn’t have to face the bastard if he can take out a dragon just like that.”

“So, can we go back somewhere warm?” the third was plaintive.

“He’ll want a report,” said the fourth.

This was plainly a sufficiency of casuistry, and they departed the scene. We gave Beretrulle the gist of what they had said.

“That’s good,” she said. “Are we going on?”

“No,” I said. “The wind may not have been natural, but he got it moving from somewhere, and we now have to sit out the results of tampering with nature. I wish we had Silavara here to intercede with Silvana.”

“Contact her through the Tower to the circle,” said Chessina.

There was that chime again.

I used the tower to cast the whisper  spell.

“Silavara? Can you hear me?” I asked.

“Castamir! Where are you?”

“Somewhere in the western marches and Nosy – another demon – has set off an unnatural storm which has to have got wind from somewhere. Silvana needs to know.”

“She’s aware,” said Silavara, grimly. “She thanks you for the information that it was a demon. Are you going to be able to sit tight for a day or two?”

“Actually, yes,” I said, being glad that Ascyla had packed that hamper. And I suppose we could always eat dragon meat. The dwarves consider it a delicacy; I wasn’t sure we would feel the same way, but it wouldn’t kill us.

 

There is something a bit surreal to camping inside a dragon.  I’ve heard of people who have survived storms by cutting open a horse which died of cold and creeping into the skin, and I have to say, there was a lot more room inside a dragon, and with the preservation charm, at least the uncoagulated blood did not leak once Chessina had tapped a load of it into big stone flagons. Flagons of dragon, I thought, wanting to giggle hysterically. We tossed out a lot of the guts, which have no use, and that gave us quite a lot of room, once cleaned up by Chessina’s ruthless cleaning cantrips. We became sufficiently inured to the smell to break into the hamper of food, and eat enough to mostly satisfy us. We should have to be a bit careful with the food if we had to sit here several days, but at least we would not go hungry enough to impair our ability to push on and deal with Nosy, Moruk, and Jolinn.

Meanwhile, the wind continued howling outside, and I used the Tower to grow a stone wall around our rug with the wing acting as a roof. It was almost cosy. If you like that sort of thing.

I could live with never having to camp again. Mind, we would probably dine out on this.  After all, how many people have camped in a dragon?

 

We were glad when the wind did finally cease; it was about time.  We had eaten the last crumbs of Ascyla’s hamper, and if it did not save our lives, it did at least make things much easier.

“I’m going to kiss that little girl right up,” I said to Chessina.

“Me too,” said Chessina. “Now, just set up some ward stones, around our dragon, Castamir; we don’t want anyone stealing it and the parts harvested.”

“Yes, dear,” I said.

I felt no need for ten thousand golden suns, but Chessina is in charge of our finances.

So, I built a ward system around the camp site, and we walked outside it with the rug rolled up, to resume our journey.

I had a feeling that hurrying would be a wise move. And also stealth.

It may not do anything, but I cast every stealth spell I knew on all of us and on the rug. Seers get glimpses of the future but if we were hidden from the present, I hoped it would cast some confusion on Nosy’s ability as well.

I also prayed to Arcana for suggestions.

“Well, finally!” she said in my head. “Use the ley lines, as it puts you out of phase, and try, all of you, to think of anything but your mission. If necessary, cast mild confusion spells on your companions, and I’ll shield your mind as you need to steer.”

I swallowed hard, and imparted this knowledge to Chessina and Beretrulle.

“Well, go ahead and cast the spells,” said Chessina. “And set us off discussing court fashion or something trivial.”

Beretrulle nodded; and I was much relieved that they were amenable to being a bit confused. This still left them more intelligent than the women at court of whom they began to indulge in character assassination, but that’s by the by.

I was flying almost as if in a dream as Arcana wrapped up my thoughts and kept them cocooned and out of the ready reach of any seer. I had a momentary panic about Ascyla.

“She knows, dear one, and is glad of a rest,” said Arcana.

Poor child, such a heavy burden to bear. When we had done all that we had to, I would ask Arcana if there was a way to take the curse of seeing from Ascyla.

“I will help her to channel it and keep it mostly locked away, dear one,” she told me. “But until she has gone through puberty, it will be wild.”

Well, that was some comfort, anyway.

 

“Castamir! Castamir!” I jolted to a more awake feeling at Arcana’s urgent voice. “Turn left, dear one, and go into that cave in the mountains; Silvana warned me that the storm arisen will strike you the other way, because storms are circular and you set off in the eye of it.”

I did vaguely know this, but it had not occurred to me, and I bit off a curse. We appeared to be in mountainous country, out of the foothills, and there was a big peak immediately to the left. I was glad Arcana was steering; large lumps of rock in clouds scare me. And, feeling the first puffs of wind, my blood ran cold, because mountains generate their own weather, and we could have been dashed on to the rocks.

“What if the cave is occupied?” I asked. I’d just fought one ruddy dragon.

“It was, but you killed the occupant,” said Arcana.

Oh.

Well, that was… fortuitous. I veered into the cave, and set up an area of security from scrying, so I wouldn’t have to sit out a storm listening to two women babbling about cloth and clothing.

Oh, do keep up. Of course I couldn’t put such a field over us on the rug; you should know by now that it doesn’t work when moving, and nor, really, does invisibility but that at least had a less complex background in snowy sky to worry about and gave some protection.

Chessina and Beretrulle stopped talking abruptly when I cancelled the spell.

“Are we there?” said Chessina.

“No, we have the other side of the storm,” I said. “We’re in the lair of our dragon.”

“Is it true that dragons amass hoards?” asked Chessina, interested.

“I have no idea,” I said.

“I think I’ll explore,” said Chessina.

I hoped it would keep her mind off being hungry for another couple of days.

“You’ll be using the opal, of course,” said Chessina.

“The opal?” I asked, confused.

“Stone to flesh,” said Chessina. “To make a meat stew.”

“But suppose it isn’t permanent?” I worried.

“Castamir, it’s the reverse of a curse flesh to stone, right?”

“Right,” I said. “But…”

“Think about it,” said Chessina. “If the original was not permanent, you wouldn’t need a reverse, right?”

“Right,” I agreed, wondering where this was going.

“So, it’s no good having a reverse, to restore someone, if it isn’t permanent, is it?” said Chessina, patting my cheek.

I felt such an idiot. I put it down to wizards being cautious.

I wasn’t sure how much stone would be converted, so I decided to go for about the volume of an average human, or pig…. It was more comfortable thinking of it as a pig, or a couple of sheep.

The spell worked wonders, and I had plainly been over-thinking when I cast it as I had me a couple of jointed, deboned sheep. I had the feeling Arcana was sniggering at me in my head.

And Chessina came back beaming, with a sack.

“The dragon must have taken some pack mules, I found the bones, but also a load of oatmeal one was carrying,” she said.

“You’re a wonder,” I told her.

It wouldn’t be exciting, but mutton broth thickened with oatmeal would sustain us. Chessina found some weed or other, and informed me it was wild garlic.

Well, Chessina had made a study of herbs, so I trusted her. I tasted the herb before adding it, as the self-heating pot cooked the stew, because my amulet of poison detection would heat up, if I was inadvertently poisoning myself. It was garlicky.

Chessina had been right, and my amulet did not react.

I wouldn’t tell her about checking on it, though.

“Wizards are cautious?” murmured Beretrulle.

“As are good commanders,” I retorted.

“And, like wizards, know when not to be cautious,” she retorted back. “You were not cautious when you stopped that dragon from ploughing into us.”

“Sometimes being bold is being cautious under a different face,” I said, trying for asperity and getting the sort of voice of a small boy caught out at something and trying to justify it.

She laughed.

“I’ve used the same excuse, myself,” she said.

 

Chessina returned at this point.

“Dragons have hoards,” she said, slightly wild-eyed.

“All the dragon is divided amongst its slayers, its hoard, if discovered, is ten per cent to the Duchy of the Marches, ten percent to the King, and the rest divided amongst the discoverers,” said Beretrulle.

“You won’t have anyone call you a second-rate baroness anymore, my dear,” said Chessina. “And we can afford to make sure Stonebridge and Fair Pastures have proper drains installed.”

“Will there really be enough?” I asked.

“You’ll have to pay someone to render the dragon down properly,” said Chessina.

“We will,” I said. “It’s shared.”

“I did nothing,” said Beretrulle.

“You were there, so, I bothered to leap out and confront it so it wouldn’t crash into you both,” I said. “If I’d been alone, I’d probably have heaved up a stone wall and enclosed myself in a cave.”

“Isn’t he sweet?” said Beretrulle. “What a lucky girl you are, Chessina.”

“Yes, and he’s all mine,” said Chessina, smugly.

 

 

 

a surfeit of wizards 18 bonus chapter

 

Chapter 18

 

We sent the children back to the Tower, of course, with Rosie.

We needed to know that they would be safe.

I did not expect to be buttonholed by the Agarakian secretary whom I had warmed up, and to whom, as I found out when he thanked her, Chessina had slipped an amulet of warming.

“Mighty wizard, I have heard whispers that you are the new Djehuti,” he said.

“I would not go that far,” I said.

“Be that as it may, I have for you an item said to have been used by Djehuti, which my ambassador will not miss,” he said. “It is a gem of spell-storing, to help in long fights. It will take many spells; the more powerful, the fewer.”  He handed me a perfect opal which must have been a good three inches across, mounted in the Agarakian rune for life. It should have been too heavy to wear on a chain, but it was not.

“Thank you; this is invaluable,” I said. “Far beyond a return for a little warming.”

He sniggered.

“He thinks he dropped it in the sea,”he told me. “He dropped it, but I was looking out of a porthole and I caught it. I think it was meant to be. I am a scholar of Djehuti, and I believe that your enemy is the same demon who fathered Meryt’s son Sekhemef.  I wish to thank you not for warming me, but showing me kindness and friendship.”

“I don’t even know your name,” I said.

“I am Toth-em-khet,” he said. “A simple servant, without magic, but who is willing to make a leap of faith.”

“Then I will tell you that Sekhemef is dead,” I told him. “Journeyman Chessina passed his soul directly to Emaxtiphrael, whom you call Wennenefer.”

“Praise the gods, and all credit to Lady Chessina,” he said. “It has taken more than three thousand years, but at last what Djehuti set out to do is being fulfilled.”

We left him rejoicing, and set about filling the opal with spells.

As soon as I had asked Dragovar to check that this was what it really was for.

Wizards are constantly vigilant. And cautious. As it happened, it had three spells in it, two of which I did not know, which always comes in handy; still person which I do know, which freezes someone in place, and handy to stop someone with information from running away; water from rocks which collected all the ambient moisture into a bubble of water which could be lowered into a vessel, and doubtless invaluable in a desert; and one which seemed less useful, stone to flesh, essentially a counterspell to a curse to turn someone into stone.

Now, that would be a useful pair of spells to have; a cheap, safe way to store prisoners until they could be questioned.

I would look them up when we got home.

“How are Moruk and Jolinn going to get home in muck like this?” I asked Dragovar, as I looked out morosely at the snow falling. “Surely not overland with a wheeled conveyance?”

“They may have their own rug of travel,” said Dragovar. “Or maybe Clovo opened a gate for them to a known place closer to their home. In many ways, it’s what a ducal wizard is for, the convenience of the duke and his family.” He added, “Of course, Clovo is a very martial wizard, and he does more about the border incursions than running around paying court to Ogier, and that suits Ogier very well.”

On asking Clovo, it turned out that he had, indeed, gated the pair to a known point; I had not known, another piece of basic information I lost out on, for having had Harmon die too soon, that most major cities have areas to which wizard gates may open, with permanent connections between the four major cities.  Dragovar never informed me as he assumed I knew. I spent an afternoon using the set gates so that I knew the arrival point in each city. And was tempted to stay in Mattlepool, where it was relatively warm, and not even raining, never mind snowing.  Each arrival point was in a quiet, but distinctive courtyard, surrounded by windowless walls, so there could be no fear of an ambush, but with only one way out, which was guarded.  I took Chessina, of course, so she would know where to go if we needed to city-hop in a hurry. No wonder so many nobles could be in the capital at court if getting to a place close to home was relatively easy. The guards had a mage with them, who would open the set gates for those other than wizards, for a small fee. I learned that it was not uncommon for merchants to use them as well, and couriers, servants, and a few of the braver commons.

Well, it makes sense, and for a silver moon, it was expensive for a townsman, but probably cheaper, at that, than staying at inns whilst travelling, and a trivial amount for anyone of higher status.

Of course, the economy might have changed by the time you are reading this, but in my time, the average wage for a farm labourer is three golden suns a year, each of which is worth four silver moons, which break in two to be a half-moon. A smaller silver coin is a Piece of which there are five to the Moon, and there are ten copper pennies to the Piece, and halfings and fourthings which are half and a quarter of a penny respectively. To put it into perspective, a secretary would expect to take ten suns a year, and a potstirrer apothecary about fifteen. A plumber like my father would be on an income of around eight to twenty suns, which depends mightily on the complexity of drains and water supply where he is working. Needless to say, Stonebridge lacks sophistication.

If the money has changed when you read this, you’ll just have to work it out.

 

“So, are we going to take a gate to Pennwath and then fly to the country house?” asked Chessina.

“No,” I said. “I don’t know what sort of spies Moruk might have in Pennwath, who could well use wizarding messages to let them know we are coming. Nosy might know anyway, but he might not know which direction we take.”

“Castamir?” I was interrupted by Rosie.

Rosie? She was in the tower.

She had been in the tower.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Miss Ascyla insisted that I should bring you a hamper of food to take,” said Rosie. “She said not to let the rug get burned.”

“That’s a bit random,” I said.

“I did not pack as much food as she wanted me to; but honestly, how much are you going to eat on your travels? said Rosie.

“Indeed,” I said. “Even with Beretrulle along, I think we shall have plenty.”

Plainly Ascyla thought we might be a little delayed on our journey, bless the child. At least the carpet would protect us if we did have to stop for a picnic, though children always vastly over-estimated how much was needed, so it was as well Rosie had cut that back. We could use a preserve spell on any leftovers.

Beretrulle was used to travelling on a rug of travel; she asked if mine was equipped with a lavatory, and smiled in delight when I answered to the affirmative.

“So much more civilised than some of the old ones,” she said. “I don’t really want to have to go down to relieve myself in this weather. Your protection runes are sophisticated, I’ve been on some very basic rugs.”

“I know that there was an attempt to make domestic rugs of travel rather than importing them from Chaybia,” I said. “But we don’t have the tradition of weaving runes and laying magic in the weave.  And we get tea from Chaybia anyway, because it won’t grow here. And they make silk for velvets from some kind of caterpillar, not from spider silk as the dwarves do.”

“You are a walking book of wisdom,” teased Beretrulle.

“Harmon had books on many things, and Castamir knows a lot,” said Chessina, proudly.

“Oh, I was a bad scholar,” said Beretrulle. “I’m sure Vellera – Harmana, I mean – could tell you the principle exports of the other major countries in the world. I was always trying to escape my tutors and go learn swordplay; but my royal father gave me a good spanking and told me that if I wanted to be treated as a boy, then I should be treated as a boy and that meant learning more. I was happy to learn military engineering and how to read a map tactically, but I never improved in understanding world economics, only logistics. And I got to give up embroidery, so being thrashed for not even knowing where Chaybiais was a fair exchange.”

“I entered apprenticeship with Harmon at nine years old,” I said. “I could read and write after a fashion, but my education was a ten-hour day as a labourer for my father, learning on the job how to be a plumber, and also sharing the housework and cooking with him as my mother died birthing me, and my father figured that I was old enough to pull my weight and do most of the chores to make up for having killed my mother and making him have to care for me and do the chores when I was too little.”

“Oh! How cruel of him!” gasped Beretrulle.

“No, he wasn’t cruel, he never laid a hand on me, save a couple of times when I deserved it when he put a slipper over my backside,” I explained. “He could not afford to let me have time off, not if he wanted to put enough food on the table. There was not much in the way of plumbing in Stonebridge, and a lot of what we did was dig ditches and lay pipes. But when I got to Harmon, I was allowed to learn all I wanted, encouraged to read all I wanted, so long as my hands were clean, and Harmon answered all my questions.  I can’t imagine finding lessons a chore.”

“I apologise,” said Beretrulle. “I expect you think me a bit precious.”

“Not since you put yourself in the thick of battle, and I have heard how well you care for your men,” I said. “But I do rather laugh at noble children who don’t know they are born.”

“I suppose my life has been easier than that of many,” said Beretrulle. “Though I’ve had to fight to be accepted as a warrior. My time in the war academy was not a bed of roses; I slept with a knife under my pillow, as there were those who assumed that if I was bunking with male officer trainees, I must be easy. The trainers thought it was funny to put me through more, often humiliating, tests to try to show me a woman’s place. ‘Is the little royal bastard ready to go back to what she should be doing, not playing at being a man?’ I could have given up and been a treaty bride, but I wasn’t going to. So, I do know about grafting.”

“Thank you for sharing that,” I said. “I admire you.”

“So do I,” said Chessina. “I’ve learned that here, giving your body is a big deal; when I was a prisoner in the abyss, it was daily life, and it was best to take what pleasure you could from it, which was also a means of sustenance. I fancy we’ve none of us had an easy path to where we are.”

“They say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” I said.

“That makes us some very tough people indeed,” said Beretrulle. “By the way, Castamir, did my brother speak to you about making you Baron of Stonebridge for your valour? I fear Chessina gets the consolation prize of being Baroness.”

“He said nothing to me,” I said.

“Oops! My big mouth,” said Beretrulle. “Well, no doubt he’ll get around to it.”

Chessina snuggled against me. We had had many long talks about her time in the abyss and she had recognised just how badly she had been treated, and was coming to terms with it. She was learning to share, although she kept to the agreed story that she had been a prisoner in the abyss, rather than a demon of sorts.

 

It was snowing in earnest, and the ground beneath us was white. It was hard to figure out where we were by looking for landmarks, so I was having to feel my way along ley lines. The wind was getting up as well, a serious headwind.  I did not like the headwind. It felt as if it was trying to find cracks in the rug’s defences, almost as if it were sentient; and winds should not be sentient. The rug was being tossed about almost like a leaf, and only with the greatest concentration could I hold on.  It vibrated so hard, I could see that I was not the only one feeling distinctly nauseous from the pitching and tossing, and whichever way I turned, the wind turned with me.

It had voices in it. And I don’t mean the semblance of voices a heavy blizzard can have. The voices in this wind were speaking Abyssal.

I exchanged a look with Chessina.

The voices were whinging.

Shorn of the expletives, and the filthier ways of putting it, the conversation went like this.

“I don’t like this.”

“I’m so cold! It hurts….”

“We can’t hurt him, that Towermaster is immune to demon fire.”

“I want to go back.”

Beretrulle could hear the voices, but of course could not understand.

“There are fell voices on the wind,” she said.

“Demons,” I said. “The wind is unnatural, and I can’t fight it. I’m going to land, and wait for our enemy to tire. And his minions to give up and go away; they do not like the cold.”

“I’m not enamoured of it myself,” said Chessina. “Will we be able to keep the rug’s protection against the weather if not using its aerodynamic properties?”

“Yes, essentially we can keep up the shield, and you will have to take that from me if I have to fight them,” I said.

“I can handle less demons,” said Beretrulle.

“There are four at least,” I said as I brought the rug in to land in a valley, so we had a hill to protect us on one side, at least. I found a fairly sheer side and luck was on my side as I shuffled the rug up against it. “Hush, they are discussing… oh shit.”

“What?” asked Beretrulle.

“They don’t want to attack us, so they are poking a dragon to do it for them,” I said, grimly.

“Shit,” said Beretrulle.

“He already said that,” said Chessina. “That’s what Ascyla meant about not getting the rug  burned.”

“This is not the sort of conditions in which one can scatter and make for a strategic defence,” said Beretrulle.

The demons seemed unaware that we could hear their conversation, which was just as well. I put up a major dome of protection over us and the rug which should stand up to a few blasts of dragonfire.

And then the beast was coming, no happier about being kicked out of its cave than we were to be out in the thick of the snow, no mistaking that great, dark beast, a silhouette against the falling snow, its great maw open to blast us. I dumped the controls of the carpet on Chessina, and Beretrulle drew her sword.

The dragon moved terrifyingly fast.