《Dragon Mage》
Chapter 1
Breaking through the clouds a green tapestry shimmered with dawn¡¯s rays, akin to a celestial being scattering the umbral veil. Turning eastwards the free falling man admired the grand spires reaching to the skies, flowing both north and southwards to the horizons. The Everlasting Spires. Home. Silken cloak flailed with the raging currents, the hood relentlessly slapping its indifferent charge as his thought strayed to the previous night.
The marble was warm to his touch, with utter disregard to being over thirty thousand feet above the sea. ¡°Rise¡± a regal voice shook the very air. Standing from his prostration the young man hesitated for a breath, he worried for desecrating this holy place. ¡°Do not fear¡± the very ground thrummed gently, ¡°Approach, little one¡±.
Half an hour hence the man collapse to the ground, gasping and sweating profusely. ¡°Gather yourself young one¡± the laughter was barely restrained. In his rush to traverse the giant marble disk, the man had forgotten of the mountain¡¯s elevation. Pristine emerald scales caressed his cheek, the youth unconsciously leaned unto the dragon¡¯s snout. A sudden down draft prelude a crash besides the man, sending him sprawling onto the ground.
¡°Manners my son¡± said the emerald green dragon, having to adjust her posture atop the plush cushions.
¡°Apologies honourable mother¡± replied the onyx scaled worm as he folded the leathery appendages.
Reaching out to the intruder¡¯s foreleg, the man used a claw as leverage to climb unto his feet. Straightening the ruffled clothes he sat down upon a claw, drawing a curious look from the hulking beast at oddity of being used as an impromptu bench.
¡°Honourable mother, it would seem that you have overly coddled Calredraxt¡± said the dragon as his sight roamed back to the young man. Who had waddled further back and was using the dragon¡¯s forearm as a backrest.
¡°Verily¡± her tail nudged Calredraxt back to his feet ¡°That is why I had you summoned¡±. She locked eyes with the man, ¡°Cal, you had turned seventeen a fortnight back¡±. With the tail¡¯s tip the emerald dragon raised Calredraxt downcast head, ¡°Amongst your kin you have long since reached adulthood. I cannot withhold you within my nest any longer¡±.
Calredraxt¡¯s mind was all but numb, words of opposition choked within his throat before they could manifest.
¡°Omriseth, you will take little Cal to the south of Aclesh¡± she nuzzled the smaller onyx beast, breaking into laughter at Omriseth¡¯s visible discomfort. ¡°The tides are shifting¡±.
Without preamble the onyx worm grabbed the young man, taking to the skies with a single bound. Hovering above the peak, the dragon brought Calredraxt close to his face ¡°No son of mine cries¡±. Shivering from the sudden frostbite currents and complete lack of air, the man open his mouth. Before he could reply Omriseth streaked through the night skies, divesting Calredraxt of his last breath.
Individual trees split from the green mass as the man approached the unrelenting ground. His reminiscence was interrupted as he was but a few hundred feet from becoming a red splash amongst the underbrush. Defying gravity the youth decelerated, coming to a gentle landing upon the dew coated patches. Spotting a fallen branch Calredraxt outstretched his arm and in short order the branch skidded across the forest floor to the man¡¯s hand. The bark upon the branch cracked and fell off, the wood twisted with audible snaps as it straightened, steam rising from the shaved timber. In under a minute the man had a staff with a curved head. Now where am I thought Cal.
The distinct thump of black powder shocked Varius to attention, the holy book almost falling out his hands. Pushing through collapsed goods Varius pushed through the cramp wagon. Exiting the abruptly stalled vehicle, he was violently shoved back within the canvas lined wagon.
¡°Stay inside Father Peyton, bandits about¡± shouted the guard.
Another explosion resounded, this time followed by chaotic shouting. Varius righted himself and in a soft murmur he prayed to God, asking for favour and guidance in this time of need. Rumblings of hooves approached from afar, dread now filled the man of cloth. Lars guide me. Why-o-why did his holiness send me to this accursed land filled with these war loving heathens lamented the priest.
Tentatively, Varius peaked from the wagon. A myriad of odour nauseated him instantly, the thick overhang restraining violence¡¯s foulness. With a handkerchief pressed firmly over his mouth and nose, the priest left the wagon. Lines of pikemen stood firm between the trees, forming a defensive line between roads end and the forest proper. And in the distance wagons were turned sideways unto a defensive barrier with crossbow men fast at work between the gaps, harrying the cavalry on the other side. Again the deafening shot tore through the pike line, downing another defender. Dead before he even hit the ground. The iron projectile shredding through mail and plate before bouncing across the road, nearly taking out anothe on the opposing side.
Turning to the source, Varius spied a pair armoured men within the thick smoke. They were clad in tourney thick plate, busy handling the wrought iron tubes as bolts skidded harmlessly across their curved amour. Methodically reloading the oversized hand cannons, the Aclenshen heathens paid little heed to the defenders. War cries accompanied a renewed assault on the pike line. Bandits crashed against the fifteen feet poles, their large circular shields guarding them from certain death. Every fallen comrade in arms seem to do naught but spur the heathens forward, and in short order the pike line failed, breaking into a melee.
Carnage spilt onto the road. Within the metallic clangs Varius fell to his knees, God almighty, my faith has not been as resolute as it should. This meagre delegate pray forgiveness. Lord, I beseech ye, it is not right for good proper Larsians to fall like so many wheat before these heathens. I beseech ye, light the path of your servants, so that we may spread your good word. Silence pervaded and ever so slowly Varius opened his eyes, the scene which greeted him defied logic. All the combatants, friends and foes alike, laid buried within the very ground they once stood. With only their heads poking out, as hellish as it was comedic. Not a word was uttered, but the fear bleach countenances faced the same direction.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
A single figure strode the battlefield, each deliberate step exacerbated by the six feet staff. The dirt caked cloak did little to mask the blue silks, gold embroideries reflecting the mid afternoon sun. Varius urged his legs into motion slowly approaching the lumbering spectre, ¡°Sir Mage¡± his voice barely a whisper. ¡°Sir Mage!¡± he repeated with purpose, earning no response. Building the courage Varius placed a hand upon the mage¡¯s shoulder. The spectre turned towards Varius, blood shot eyes stared beneath the hood. The priest nearly ran from fright. Holding fast he repeated ¡°Sir Mage, I offer my thanks for your assistance¡± in Acleshen this time around ¡°Is there anything my humble self can offer in recompenses¡±.
¡°Nahrung¡± the mage replied.
¡°Beg your pardon¡± asked Varius.
¡°Nahrung¡¡± there was a pause, ¡°Food¡± finished the mage.
Dumbfounded, Varius stared mouth agape at the mage. ¡°Yes. Food¡± he said, ¡°Before that, it would seem that my acquaintances were caught in your Weaving¡±. ¡°Where are my manners¡± Varius gave a curt bow, ¡°Father Varius Peyton at your service¡±. After an awkward pause the priest straightened, ¡°Uhm¡And what may I call your person¡±.
¡°You can address me as Cal, jetzt, food¡± replied the mage.
The stare off resumed, ¡°If I may be so bold Sir Cal, could you release my comrades as I have your meal prepared¡±.
Receiving an affirmative nod, Varius scanned the wagons. Spotting movement within the rear folds of one but a dozen yards way he briskly made his way towards the vehicle. Gently, he pushed the canvas flaps aside. A child clung to her parents in fear, the couple though eased at the sight of the priest.
¡°Father¡ª¡± started the woman.
¡°All is well Nathalie, the mage means us no harm¡± another wrinkle forming as he smiled. ¡°Nathalie, could you prepare a fine meal for our saviour. And Ned let the others know that its safe now¡± earning a stoic confirmation from the lame man ¡°I must be off now¡± the priest left.
Returning to the mage, he found Cal unmoved from where Varius had left him. ¡°Apologies for the wait, shall we¡±. And over the next quarter hour Varius guided the mage as he released the sixty one friendly guards. The instance Cal completed his task the mage went towards the aroma of venison. Varius wanted to accompany the mage, but he had duties to observe.
¡°How goes it Commander¡± the priest addressed as he made his way through the loitering guards.
The officer raised a hand, silencing the mass. ¡°Father, we have yet to kill these heathens as you request¡± the man cursed, favouring his left foot ¡°But my men thirst for vengeance¡±.
¡°Heathens they may be, but Herius Lars teaches us to not kill in cold blood. We are God fearing Larsians my sons, do not stoop to the level of these barbarians. Nay, we shall leave them as they are, the Lord shall decide their faiths¡± Varius finished his sermons.
¡°You heard the good Father whoresons. Now, those who can stand start digging the graves¡±, the officer limped towards Varius, accepting the priests assistance. ¡°We are getting to old for this Varius¡± he added in a lower voice.
¡°That we are old friend, that we are¡± said the priest as the two stood in a sombre tranquillity amongst the bustle. ¡°So, what¡¯s the damage¡± Varius finally brought himself to ask.
¡°Twenty eight dead, eleven wounded, of which I don¡¯t expect six to survive the night¡± the old officer had somehow acquired a wine skin. ¡°You have much work guiding these poor souls to our mighty God¡± added the old man after a substantial gulp.
¡°Do not blaspheme, Victor¡± said Varius, though there was little reprimand in his tone.
It was well into the night as Varius brought the funeral to a close. The walk back took longer than anticipated as the wagon train had moved away from the carnage before setting camp. Asking direction to the Leons, the family of three he had entrusted the mage too, he admired the tenacity of these traders. However, part of him knew that the atmosphere would have been far bleaker had one of their own passed.
An hour later Varius arrived at the Leon¡¯s wagon, thanks to the talkative hosts he had taken an inordinate amount of time to reach the spice traders. Hearing the splash of water he approached the woman, busy with laundry.
¡°How do you fare Nathalie?¡± asked the priest, ¡°Where is our good mage? I would like to talk to him¡± the blue silks seemed oddly familiar.
¡°Asleep in the tent¡± replied the woman, finally done with the last piece.
¡°Are those¡ª¡± started Varius.
¡°I swear Father, that one has neither manners nor decency¡± she hung the breeches to dry, ¡°He wolfs down all the food to the tiniest morsels, then the boy just strips to his bare arse. Telling me that his clothes was dirty!¡± finished the woman dramatically.
¡°Slow down¡ wait, did you say boy?¡± Nathalie¡¯s husband arrived with a stool, of which the priest gratefully accepted.
¡°Boy be a touch much Nat¡± said the new arrival, nursing his right leg as he set upon his own stool.
¡°Maybe, but the mage is nary what I expected¡± she emptied the buckets of water, ¡°He is very young father. Young and conceited, I trust you Father, but I worry still¡±. With her task done, she sat beside her husband ¡°Where¡¯s Avidia?¡± she asked whilst settling in.
¡°In the tent sleeping¡± the man caught her wife staring at him menacingly, ¡°I lent the man a spare trouser and shirt after you fumed off¡±. Seeing his better half unconvinced ¡°Besides, the mage has the tent toasty with his magic. It¡¯ll be like sleeping ¡®sides a fireplace¡± he placated whilst cupping her chin within a palm.
¡°Ah, the joys of youth¡± the couple disengaged at Varius¡¯ remarks, the old priest grinning at their embarrassment. ¡°Regardless of his age or behaviour let me remind the two of you that mages capable of such Weavings are not to be trifled with¡± his sudden shift in tone flushed the colour out the pair. Satisfied that his point was made ¡°There is no cause for worry though, Sir Cal means us no ill. He would not have gone through the trouble of saving us otherwise¡± Varius added.
Chapter 2
Groggy, Cal awoke to the sight of a rugged sun beaten face, a far cry from his fair servants. That life is behind me now reminded the mage as he returned to his slumber. Again the tormentor persisted, and for the second time in his life Cal¡¯s sleep was interrupted prematurely. Once more the mage attempted to return to the sweet embrace of the abyss. Alas, it was not to be for he was roused once more. And with a scowl Cal turned to his tormentor, ¡°Geh weg¡±.
¡°Wake up Sir Cal¡± replied the priest.
¡°Sei weg, let me sleep¡± said Cal, slowly sitting up.
¡°Sadly we are moving soon, camp had been broken an hour back¡± said Varius, rubbing his chin ¡°Herius, how do you weave whilst unconscious¡¡± the priest mumbled to himself.
Irritated, Cal forced himself off the thin padding. A warm sphere of water formed before the mage, bobbing mid-air in defiance of the natural laws. Cal removed his shirt ¡°You may leave¡± he said dismissively, plunging his hands into the floating sphere.
¡°Very well¡± Varius placed the folded attire down, ¡°If you could, meet me after breaking fast¡± said the priest before leaving. A warm gust rushed in as the tent flaps parted, only to submit to the unnatural chill shortly after.
Refreshed and donning his blues once more, Cal left the tent only to be met by a small girl in his path. Ignoring the trio of guards breaking up the tent Cal focused upon the platter within the petite girl¡¯s hands. It was his first encounter with such a young human. He had read about his birth species, even seen various drawingss in the bestiaries, but the real thing was a unique curiosity. Cal¡¯s hunger brought his attention back to the platter, a steaming bowl of stew accompanied by a slice of smoked meat and dried bread. Plain, but the weeks of eating roots are over at least thought the mage, nearly drooling.
¡°Food for you mister¡± offered the child.
Accepting the proposed meal a stump of earth rose from the ground, hardening into an uncomfortable sit. Eying the mug of water with apprehension Cal addressed the girl ¡°Mayhap you have something more substantial to accompany the meal¡±, earning a confused look from the child. After an uncomfortable silence a familiar man walked towards the girl. Ruffling her unbound hair.
¡°Apologies Sir Cal¡± the man adjusted his weight with a cane. ¡°Avidia¡¯s Acleshen is still a bit rough around the edges¡± said the newcomer, earning a pout from his daughter. The act drew a warm smile from the man, ¡°Sadly I can¡¯t help with that, Father Peyton should have some nice white though¡± he finished.
Parent and child assisted the guards in loading the camping gear as Cal ate, the group slipping into Tristanese as they spared nary a thought to the mundane task.
Wisps of multi-coloured light danced around the girl, drawing delight as she would attempt to catch one of the ephemeral spheres. The simple act of weaving distracted the child as she guided Cal to the priest, her persistent chatter brought to an end. As they reached their destination, the mage dispelled the wisps. As the streaking spheres faded from existence the child deflated, shoulders sagging as she muttered something incomprehensible in her home tongue. Having no desire to deal with sulking thing, Cal picked up a tiny pebble. Altering the rock¡¯s threads Cal transmuted the hunk of silicon and oxygen. The child stared curiously at Cal, the priest having joined in the gawking without the mage¡¯s notice.
A blue pulse radiated from the pebble, growing in intensity before dimming. In turn a yellow glow pulsed, then green, then another, randomly alternating between various hues. Satisfied of his handiwork Cal handed the stone over, ¡°Here, this is yours girl¡± he said. The child hugged Cal deeply before accepting the gift, and before she could resume here prattling ¡°Go back to your parents now¡± Cal added. Clutching the shinning pebble the girl thanked Cal in high spirits before running back from whence she came.
¡°That was kind of you, I am sure Avidia will treasure the artefact¡± said Varius, returning the mage¡¯s staff.
¡°Artefact? It¡¯s just a glowing rock¡± replied Cal as he dusted off his hands.
Following Varius¡¯ lead the mage took a place upon the coach bench, unpadded plank a soar reminder of the simple luxuries he had taken for granted. ¡°Does your Lars forbid comfort?¡± asked Cal as he tried to find a comfortable position.
Holding unto the reins Varius kept the pair of draft horses in check as they followed the leading wagon. ¡°Sir Cal, our martyr Herius Lars brought the good word of God to the world of men¡ª¡±.
¡°Enough priest, let us not argue theistic philosophy¡± interrupted Cal, the discomfort of the ride waging a futile battle with lethargy.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
¡°Ah, the young ones. Always quick to dismiss the Lord¡¯s guidance¡±. Cal shot the priest an annoyed glare, ¡°I will desist, for now¡± said Varius with all but a smirk. Coercing the steeds back on track, ¡°Sir Cal, if I may be so bold, from where do you hale. From your accent it is quite obvious that Aclesh is not your birth land¡± asked Varius.
¡°Richtig, I come from the Everlasting Spires¡± replied Cal, eyelids growing heavy with the swaying tempo ¡°Zuhause¡±.
¡°Surely you jest Sir¡¡± the priest held his tongue as soft snores broke his train of thought.
Soft taps rapt Cal¡¯s forearm shedding the leaden veil of the void. As the blinding bloom diminished an all too familiar girl came into focus, once more holding a platter with a smile. A piercing pain raced along Cal¡¯s spine, forcing the young man to his feet. In his haste to relieve the pain Cal nearly fell of the wagon, barely maintaining his balance in thanks to the girl¡¯s assistance.
Regaining what little dignity left Cal shared a meal with the child, lunch apparently. As he ate the mage noticed that his mundane act of weaving had been made the centre piece of a neckless. Is this really that special? wondered the mage, subconsciously happy that the girl remained silent whilst eating. And as the pair finished the child said a short Prayer in Tristanese before leaving. It would seem that she understood the mage apathy, which made her presence all the more baffling to Cal.
His trusty staff in hand the young mage strolled leisurely, the wagon convoy preparing to depart once more. The weeks spent in wilderness had made Cal oddly attached to the wooden sceptre, long since transmuted beyond what nature intended. Water had been but a trifle to condense from the atmosphere. His life of comfort however, had left him ill equip to forage as near all vegetation was alien to the mage in their natural state. Even hunting proved futile for the pampered youth knew that meat came from living breathing animals only in theory. The one time Cal had dared to make a hare edible had ended poorly, and the mere recollection of that fateful day made the youth queasy.
A guard dispelled the reminiscence, ¡°Are you feeling well Sir? You look a bit green¡± asked the Tristanese.
Cal¡¯s iron grip on his staff loosened, the blood returning to his digits. ¡°I¡¯m fine¡± he replied, regaining his posture ¡°Where¡¯s the Larsian priest?¡± Cal added.
¡°Father Peyton is with the commander Sir¡± replied the guard. Leaning against his poleaxe the man scanned the treelines, satisfied he faced Cal ¡°Shall I take you to them?¡±.
Varius and the guard commander trailed the vanguard detachment, thirty yards from the lead wagon. The commander¡¯s bandaged foot seemingly to have little effect on the man, his lack of armour implied the opposite though. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be resting?¡± asked the priest.
¡°It¡¯s just a flesh wound¡± replied the man. Observing the questioning countenance of the priest, ¡°Enough about that. Learnt anything about the mage¡± he quickly added.
Relenting, ¡°Not much. He claims to be from the Everlasting Spires¡± Varius said.
¡°The land of dragons and giants¡±, the man traced a shallow razor cut on the smooth chin ¡°He could have come up with a better story¡±.
¡°I must profess, it is a dubious tale. His accent though¡¡± Various turned silent, clearly contemplating some deeper thoughts.
With a slight shove to the priest¡¯s shoulder, ¡°Hey, what of his accent?¡± asked Victor.
¡°Oh, sorry¡± Varius had a self-deprecating smile, ¡°I was just thinking of how I could spread Lars¡¯ teachings to an atheist¡± he finished. With the defeated look in Victor¡¯s eyes, ¡°Yes his accent. I¡¯ve never heard the like in all my travels¡± the priest returned to the topic at hand ¡°His mother tongue is equally baffling¡±.
¡°Still, no man lives in the Everlasting Spires¡± cursed the commander as his left foot trodded a loose stone. ¡°Which brings us back full circle, where is he from and why is he hiding it¡± Victor insisted they keep walking.
¡°We should not be so quick to dismiss it out of hand, in my last pilgrimage through Aclesh I heard rumours of dragon worshippers¡± said the priest, ¡°Unlikely as that may be¡±.
¡°A spy maybe¡± asked the commander.
Varius turned flabbergasted towards his friend, ¡°Victor, this is not a military campaign¡± the priest rubbed the ridge of his nose ¡°What would a spy want with silk and spices?¡±.
¡°Extrapolate data of Tristan private exports¡ª¡°.
Varius interrupted the man ¡°Enough of your paranoia, is it so hard to believe in the good intentions of man?¡±. Forestalling the commanders rebuke, Varius gestured to their back ¡°His coming our way, might as well ask directly.
Seeing the mage¡¯s approach accompanied by a guard, Victor appeared restless ¡°You know God damn well that I¡¯m not comfortable around mages¡±.
¡°Rubbish, the boy means no ill¡± said the priest.
¡°I have seen those hellions on the battlefield¡± the commander took a deep breath, ¡°Both as friend and foe, I have seen what they capable of¡±.
Streams of sunlight pierced the tin canopy. The wide, travel packed road tracing a ribbon of solace along the foreboding wilderness. Within the sweltering corridor Cal reduced the moisture of air close by, dispelling any discomfort the accursed forest all too eagerly compelled.
Having guided Cal to the priest and commander, the guard bade farewell and backtracked to the wagon train. Introducing himself to the commander Cal addressed Varius, ¡°So priest, how far are we from civilisation?¡±
Victor answered in the priest¡¯s stead, ¡°We should reach a hamlet in two to three hours¡± the man¡¯s speech was rather stifled ¡°After that, one or two small settlements a day. In five days we should arrive at a town proper¡±.
¡°Eager to leave our company¡± asked the priest, shaking his head towards Victor.
¡°A soft bed and spiced wine or a rattling cart¡± Cal lamented ¡°Real tough choice¡±.
The aged pair were silent for a span. Varius eventually said ¡°I think you should temper your expectation Sir Cal¡±.
¡°Sir¡± addressed Victor, ¡°Father Peyton informed me that you came from the Everlasting Spires¡±. There was a pause ¡°But you look surprisingly Acleshen¡± said the commander.
¡°I was born in this country, apparently¡±. All this walking is getting tiring thought Cal. ¡°Priest¡± a slight drizzle intruded, and Cal raised his hood in kind ¡°I heard you had some decent wine¡±. The mage urged Varius back to the convoy, leaving the commander to his own device.
Chapter 3
Cool breeze tussled the blonde mane. The manicured beard juxtaposed by its stout bearer, sporting wicked scars strewn about every inch of exposed skin. Dawn rays bathe the diminutive garden, a solitary haven within castle grounds. Another gust deposited a yellow petal upon the solitary man¡¯s palm whom smiled at the sight. Basking in the serenity a voice ruined the brief tranquillity.
¡°Lord Mats, we have a host of traveling traders requesting entry¡± said the manservant as he approached.
¡°Can¡¯t I get a single moment of rest¡± complained Mats, readjusting his posture upon the singular bench.
Ignoring the complaints ¡°Fifty two trading wagons excluding the guard detail¡± the elderly servant continued. ¡°They are certified by the Jarl¡±, he proffered the folded vellum atop a silver plate.
Calloused hands unfolded the certificate, Mats scanned through with disinterest ¡°Everything is in order, let the Tristanese in¡±. He returned the letter, but the man remained ¡°Anything else, been a long day¡±.
Unfazed the courtly servant replied ¡°A Larsian priest wishes for an audience¡±.
¡°Mjiir¡¯s beard! No. Those zealots are persistent with their martyr¡±, Mats could swear that the man was smirking.
¡°Least I remind you that they are personally recognised by the Jarl. Please reconsider¡±.
Mats stood up, signing aloud ¡°Fine, set up an appointment tomorrow morning¡± he took a final gaze at his retreat ¡°And I wasn¡¯t planning on drinking tonight¡±.
Varius and Victor waited within the gatehouse, a pair of Acleshen men at arms overseeing them. It had been nearly an hour since their arrival and the priest was growing irritated, Herius give me strength internalized Varius.
¡°Patience Peyton¡± whispered Victor at the sight of the priest, ¡°By God you¡¯re supposed to be the bastion of virtue¡±.
Closing his eyes Varius eased his breathing as he forcibly relaxed. With his mind now clear the priest retrieved the holy book, passing the time rejuvenating his faith. The pair waited in silence, the occasional thumps of steel sabatons leaking beyond the closed door.
After what felt like an eternity the iron reinforced door opened as the Acleshen messenger returned at last. The rotund man approached Varius and the commander, breathing hard with beads of sweat upon his forehead he took a sit before the Tristanese pair. With a gesture an accompanying servant placed a mug before the plump man, the honeyed fragment permeated the room as he quenched his thirst.
¡°Lord of the Manor Mats hereby grants you his hospitality¡± addressed the Acleshen before taking another gulp, ¡°You and yours may enter¡±.
¡°And of our request to set up a market?¡± asked Victor.
¡°You may install twenty booths within the town square¡± replied the Acleshen, turning to Varius he continued ¡°And the Larsian priest has been granted audience at first light¡±.
¡°Well then, we shall pass on the news. Night is almost upon us¡± Varius clasped hands with the messenger across the table, ¡°It has been a pleasure¡±.
With the Jarl¡¯s certificate returned Varius left the gatehouse, Victor following closely behind. Dusk¡¯s ember faded and as night encroached the priest observed as lamps lit one after the other. A tranquil sight to behold, before the wale of gnashing gears broke the peace. Varius directed his attention to the noise, the pair of portcullises raising in succession before himself and Victor.
The mail shirt slid over Mats shoulders, a servant securing a belt around the waist as another brought the wooden shield and a dull sword. Cold iron stung the palm as Mats donned the helmet, morning dew rolling off the curves. With the traditional arms and armour at bear Mats stepped within the field, dawn barely breaking upon the horizon. Men at arms ringed the sparring grounds, two warriors from a bygone time poised for battle.
Shields raised at an angle the foes circled one another, the one handed sword hidden from one another¡¯s sight. A yard separated the two, and in a burst Mats lowered his stance. Shield close to his chest, the burly man charged his foe. In retaliation his opponent thrusted, shield leading the offending wrist. The blade glanced over Mats helmet sliding atop the crown. Shields crashed. Placing his right foot behind his foes stabilising left heel, Mats capitalised and shoved. Leveraged, the taller man fell upon his back with Mats landing upon him. Quickly mounting his opponent Mats trapped the man¡¯s arms between his legs, lightly pressing the sword tip upon the downed foe¡¯s jugular.
¡°I yield¡± uttered the defeated man.
Mats aided the man to his feet ¡°Pay more attention¡±, he distanced himself from his sparring partner ¡°Shield up¡ª¡±.
¡°One match Lord¡± Mats manservant intruded, ¡°That was the deal, was it not?¡± the elder man uttered before his lord stoically. ¡°Perhaps you have new arrangements with Lady Hilde?¡± asked the sly fox.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Shoulders slumped Mats left the bailey. The sympathetic expressions upon his men at arms did little to raise his morose spirit.
¡°Father your late¡± was the first words Mats heard as he entered his study. Where did my cute little Valkyrie go cried Mats internally. Sulking the Lord of the manner took his place at the oak desk, the self-appointed chamberlain hovering besides him.
¡°Morning to you Hilde dear¡± Mats said.
Without looking away from the document at hand ¡°Hum, yes, good morning¡± she replied. ¡°The brew master has purchased his emancipation¡± Hilde placed the piece of paper before Mats, ¡°But his willing to continue as a freeman¡±.
The manservant approached the desk, ¡°Apologies for intruding, however the Larsian priest and his guest has been waiting upon you¡± placing two cups of lemon tea before his charges.
Groaning Mats motioned for the guests to be brought before him.
¡°Father Varius Peyton of Tristan, and Sir Calredraxt Omriseth¡¯s son of the Everlasting Spires¡± announced the manservant.
¡°You may be sited¡± intoned Mats, ¡°Now, what did you want priest¡ª¡±.
¡°What my Lord meant to ask is what brings your esteemed self here today¡± said Hilde, never breaking eye contact with her father.
Varius shifted awkwardly, ¡°It concerns Sir Calredraxt, Lord¡±.
¡°Cal will do just fine¡± said the mage, seeping casually at the fragrant tea.
The Everlasting Spires? Contemplated Mats. ¡°Continue¡± he waved at the priest.
The priest glanced at Cal, ¡°I will get directly to the matter at hand then. Our convoy wishes to sponsor Sir Cal¡¯s stay within your abode for the duration of a month¡±.
Mats leaned forward, chin resting upon his knuckles ¡°To what end?¡±.
¡°Sir Cal is a mage, I am sure that if you inform Jarl Vinar he would offer employ¡± said Varius.
¡°My Lord, if I may¡± Hilde started, ¡°A sitting mage will be fortuitous, it is most arduous to secure their services this far south¡± taking a step back after stating her mind.
¡°Fine, a paying guest is a welcomed change¡± A mage. Anything less than Acolyte would be underwhelming, ¡°As for employment, it¡¯s up to the Jarl¡± beggars can¡¯t be choosers though he added internally.
Varius availed himself of the tea, ¡°Then if it pleases you Lord Mats, I shall impose of your hospitality in a ten day when our convoy departs¡±. The priest retrieved a tome from his pouch ¡°Now for business of faith Lord, if I may have a moment to speak of the good word.¡±
Mats broke into a cold sweat, ¡°I have a proposal for your priest¡± he gulped ¡°The temple will host you by my decree, I¡¯m sure that your God will rather your time spent on the masses than this old man stuck in his old ways¡±. Did the bastard smirk thought Mats as he watched Varius close the tome.
¡°What do you make of that¡± asked Mats, the two guests having left.
Hilde circled the desk sitting heavily before Mats ¡°Dad, be more tactful¡±, she signed ¡°That¡¯s why we are stuck in the sticks even with all your achievements¡±.
¡°Why so cold my little Valkyrie¡± complain Mats, drawing a blush from his daughter.
Crossing eyes with her father, Hilde turned sideways with a huff. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t think we can accept payment in good faith¡± she regained her composure ¡°It is all but guaranteed that Jarl Vinar will be eager to take in the mage¡±.
Revelling in his daughter¡¯s pouting Mats replied, ¡°True, old Vinar would never pass a mage¡±.
¡°Adia guide me¡± muttered Hilde, ¡°Some respect dad¡±.
A cool drop trickled down Mats neck, sparse rainfall pelting down from clear summer skies. The mild precipitation doing nothing to daunt the mass of humanity. Mats found the town centre a mass of activity, people flocking to and fro the Tristanese merchants as they payed nary any interest to the local instalments. Observing the bustling hive Mats questioned his current course of action. Steeling himself he brought the fawn stallion to halt at the square¡¯s edge. Unmounting his steed the lord passed the reigns unto his housecarl. Few paying attention as Mats slipped into the crowd, his disdain of foppish finery doing little to denote the man¡¯s station.
Fragrance of foreign spices melded, assaulting the senses. Mats spared but a passing glance to the exotic condiments and textiles. In time he found his mark, a smaller booth heavily guarded and ignored by most. Tunnel vision setting in the broad beast of a man pushed his way to the jewel merchant.
¡°Welcome Sir, what may I interest you in¡± addressed the woman, similar aged to Mats¡¯ late wife.
Browsing the catalogue behind the glass display Mats saw naught but foreign styled articles, ¡°Anything themed after Adia?¡±.
¡°Ah, for a special lady then¡±, the accent was oddly alluring to Mats ¡°A moment if you would¡±. The merchant rummaged through her stock, presenting three small elm chests in short order. Two of the ornamented chests contained jewelled golden necklaces, one showcasing sapphire and the other rose clear rubies. Seamlessly carved along the links were words of praise to Adia in old Acleshen. ¡°And our centrepiece¡±.
Unlocking the final chest she presented the contents to Mats. A pair of platinum bangles depicting a tapestry of the goddess of fate, Adia, spinning the very fabric of destiny in all her ethereal glory. The image moved ever so subtly, seemingly alive. Mats failed to hide his shock as it became apparent that such was no trick of the imagination.
¡°Magnificent, is it not¡± the merchant warmed at the grizzled man¡¯s surprise, ¡°A master piece by an anonymous Magus¡± she closed the lid. ¡°Sadly being a non-custom piece priced at ten million crowns, it has been quite the struggle to sell¡± locking the chest she returned her attention to Mats, ¡°So which one do you fancy¡± she gracefully motioned at the two necklaces.
¡°I¡¯ll take the bracelets¡± said Mats.
¡°Pardon?¡± asked the merchant.
¡°How would you like payment¡± Mats steered the conversation back on track.
¡°For a purchase of this kind¡± she regained her composure, ¡°We shall personally deliver the merchandise and confer purchase at a private venue of your choosing¡±.
¡°Come to the keep then¡± said Mats, already fantasying himself gifting the bangles to an overjoyed Hilde.
The merchant bowed to the aloof man, ¡°Certainly, and we thank you for your patronage Manor Lord Mats¡± seemingly to have deduced his station.
His purpose achieved Mats strolled along the packed square, approaching a few silk stalls before leaving as he realised that he knew nothing about fabric. Passing the time Mats spotted a single arms and armour seller. Pleasantly surprised the man walked towards the booth, only to be interjected by his housecarl who had somehow found his liege within the melee.
¡°My Lord, you have appointments awaiting¡± addressed the heavily armoured man despite the climate.
Seeing as he was now breaking the flow of traffic as bystanders skirted the armed man, Mats left the town square.
Chapter 4
Escaping the bustle their arrival had wrought, Cal had slipped away at the first opportunity. Roaming the streets haphazardly, the mage came upon a set of stairs unguarded. Grasping the golden prospect Cal all but ran up the steps, landing atop an unmanned section of the city ramparts. Happy to be away from the overabundance of humans the lone mage slumped along the crenelations. Back against a merlon Cal reached for the basket he had been lugging around, a tribute from Avidia. The human girl knows her place at least. Cal unravelled the contents, sweet fragrance of grilled boar bound by soft bread all too salivating. If only the other humans were similar thought the home sick mage.
His appetite satiated, Cal placed the staff atop his lap. Ignoring his mundane senses, Cal looked upon the threads of the staff, intertwined unto a weave of the objects very makeup. The mage willed his spin into the threads, and with but a thought the staff¡¯s threads changed. Every, and all deviation from its base form drew more spin from the young mage. As the threads changed, the very nature of the staff transmuted in kind. The final act of magic completed the overlong pet project. A thin layer of exceedingly dense lignin wrapped around a rod of carbon, pure and perfectly homogeneous in structure.
Cal grinned at his handiwork, the carbon rod was exceedingly unnatural. As such the weave stood out from the world with perfect clarity. Once more the mage infused more spin into the staff, pliant to his will the dynamics of the homogeneous rod changed. With every subsequent changes to the weave consuming more spin.
The staff floated before Cal, ever so slowly rising. Reaching eye level, the once fallen branch took to the skies hurtling erratically akin to a bumble bee. Satisfied, the mage willed his staff before him. Standing upright half an inch from the very stone ground he sat upon. But mere moments after the staff held its subdued hover, a pair entered Cal¡¯s periphery.
As one of the armed men reached for his sword, the other took the initiative ¡°Sir Mage¡± holding his compatriot¡¯s wrist firmly as to deny the drawing of steel. ¡°The ramparts are prohibited grounds¡± he said, grip constricting ever tighter.
Without protest Cal stood up. And with the wicker basket in hand the mage walked past the pair compliantly, his staff following behind. Reaching the bottom of the stairs Cal heard shouting from atop the ramparts. So much for my reprieve lamented Cal as he made his way back to the town square.
Upon his return to the square Cal rejoiced at the sight before him. Most booths had already turned in for the day and the rest were in the process of doing so. Sensing the staff move slightly, Cal felt the familiar weave besides his creation. Turning around Cal observed as the Tristanese girl poked at the staff. Another weave, strikingly similar to the girl encroached upon his perception from the left. The newly arrived woman scolded the girl. Mother and child exchanging within their native tongue.
¡°I apologise for my daughter¡± said the woman.
¡°It¡¯s of no consequence¡± replied Cal, what was her name again.
¡°How make you the thing float?¡± asked Avidia, oblivious to her predicament.
No sooner than she asked Avidia lifted gently of the ground, prompted by an invisible force. ¡°Like that¡± said Cal. He observed the girl and mother as shock and awe struck them, the former turning to glee whilst the latter morphed to dread. Seeing fear grip the woman, Cal returned Avidia to her feet. ¡°Nothing to worry about, it¡¯s but a simple weave¡± said the youth.
¡°Again, Again!¡± the girl pulled at Cal¡¯s sleeve, only to be dragged away by her ear.
Watching the pair stomp off Cal stood befuddled, basket in hand.
¡°Hahaha. Come now Sir Cal¡± said the amused man, rapping the walking cane on the cobbled ground.
Nell, no it was Ned quizzed the mage. ¡°Are you done Ned, I wish to retire¡± asked Cal.
¡°¡ªand that my child is how our Lord and Saviour Herius Lars delivered us from the yoke of our inner sins¡± the priest finished.
¡°Guntr would win easily against your saviour¡± a smug Acleshen youth commented.
God give me strength pleaded Varius, ¡°Valour of arms is of little consequence, Herius Lars spread the good word through strength of mind and spirit. For violence begets violence¡± he said before the small crowd.
¡°What of your holy wars then Larsian priest¡± asked an older woman.
¡°Ah, you have hit upon the very crux of an olden dilemma¡± Varius held his audience, ¡°The world is oft cruel and unrelenting, and whilst Lars was pure of heart and soul from birth, death, rebirth and ascension. As we, the sinners strive to emulate his way, we have and will stumble. However, our fallings must never overshadow our faith¡ª¡± articulating his impassioned mind.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
The day came to a close with the priest having brought not a singular soul to the path. Breathing a sigh, Varius watched as attendants lit lamps and candles with practiced hands. As dusk drew to a close the artificial light played across the statues of the heathen gods, inducing an ethereal veil upon the pantheon. Enraptured by the artistic foresight of the Acleshen Varius failed to notice as a priestess of Adia approached, handing him a mug of mild mead. ¡°Thank you¡± said Varius as he accepted the brew.
¡°Do no misunderstand¡± the priestess scowled ¡°We only entertain you per Lord Mats wishes¡± wrinkling her pristine countenance.
¡°Be that as it may, I am still thankful of the patronage of you and yours¡± replied Varius, This is going to be a long ten days thought the Larsian priest.
Eve of their departure upon them, Cal followed the priest to a tavern. A melancholy tune welcomed the duo, minstrel bringing the drama to a close. Tragic ballad ended, the entertainer picked up a merrier tone. An epic of Guntr, of a young god of war fateful meeting with the goddess of fertility.
¡°To Sir Cal!¡± the guard commander stood as he saw Varius and the mage, ¡°Praise the Lord for delivering him in our time of need¡± said Victor aloud with mug upraised.
¡°To Sir Cal!¡± echoed the room. Scores of Tristanese guards cheering in unison within the packed hall, sole patrons upon this night.
Escorted to the table of honour, the young mage found a mug of ale in hand before he realised. All his dismissals had been blatantly ignored and now Cal found himself in the rowdy establishment. Coming to terms with his quandary the mage steeled himself for the evening before him, downing the ale in a single draught. As the surrounding men cheered on, Cal repeated the act, slamming the second mug upon the table with his final gulp.
¡°Some moderation now¡± said Varius.
¡°Nonsense¡± the serving girl chimed in, ¡°Let the lad drink¡± she placed a fresh mug before Cal with a sultry wink.
¡°How¡¯s an old goat like me supposed to get any attention in such esteem company¡± said the commander with a toothy grin, making a faux attempt to grab the passing wench whom dashed away dramatically to entertain him.
Shock evident ¡°Victor, some class wouldn¡¯t kill you every now and again¡± said the priest, ¡°By Lars, I had hoped that age would bring wisdom¡± nursing his own drink.
¡°What¡¯s with the gloom, priestess chewed your ears of again?¡± asked Victor, earning a groan from the Larsian priest. ¡°And let me guess, not a single convert. Right?¡± a grin plastered on the tanned face.
¡°You try to teach the good word day after day to these warmongers¡± said Varius.
¡°If you would stop arguing with his holiness, maybe you wouldn¡¯t be stuck as a simple priest¡± said Victor, locking eyes with Varius ¡°And maybe they¡¯ll stop sending you to these god forsaken lands¡±.
¡°Enough, let us not ruin the night¡±, Varius patted the guard commander on the shoulder. ¡°So, still intent on staying, or have you had a change of heart?¡± the priest turned to Cal across the table.
¡°For the umpteen time, I¡¯ll take civilised life over the road any day of the week¡± said Cal. The flame from the scented candle chased his index finger as he twirled the digit absentmindedly in a figure eight, fiery serpent eager to claim its prize. ¡°Why are going to the border anyways?¡± the blazing serpent sprouted wings.
¡°We¡¯re going to the fort at the border¡± said Varius, hailing for another serving ¡°Pretty sure I mentioned it before¡±.
The flaming snake flew back to the candle, ¡°Did you. Why though?¡± coiling around the top.
¡°We have shipments of high grade mage reinforced arms and armour, not much, but apparently worth enough to warrant the journey¡± replied Victor.
As the night grew old the Larsian guards sang alongside the minstrel. Their chaotic cacophony little worse than the inebriated musician. The host entered the chorus, and as the falsetto receded to a low Cal climbed the table. Standing with his hands raised the mage bellowed, ¡°¡ªand he raised his trusty aaaaaxe!¡± blue lights coalesced in the raised arm forming a battle axe. As the ephemeral weapon approached completion a ripple ran across its length before the axe burst onto a blinding sun. Knocked off is feet, Cal was sent crashing to the floor.
¡°Enough magic out of you¡± said Victor, rubbing his eyes.
After a moment of silence Cal brought his upturned mug to his face, still lying upon his back ¡°Another!¡± he lifted the vessel. The entire room broke into laughter, merry making resuming in short order.
Varius awoke to a splitting headache, hangover striking in earnest. With tenacious effort the priest pushed from the moist, clammy table. His fellow countrymen strewn across furniture and floor alike. The early rays of dawn was his only relief, for at the very least he was spare the sun¡¯s brilliant glare as of yet.
Finding his feet, Varius scanned the room. The mage was nowhere in sight, and the only other soul awake was the minstrel. Slowly, Varius made his way to the musician, asking the man for Cal. Thanking the musician he crossed into the living quarters.
Varius stood before the bedroom door. Tentatively the priest knocked, and after a moment with no response he pushed the door open. The unbarred obstruction moved on oiled hinges, revealing the young mage sound asleep. A young lass at either side. At the sight Varius silently closed the door, Young people nowadays he prayed internally.
Upon his return to the mess, the guards had begun to stir. Drunks aided the drunker out the building. Seeing as none of the men were willing to wake their commander, Varius gave his friend a good kick to the shin.
¡°Oh, it¡¯s you¡± said Victor, a perfect line of spittle running across his chin and neck.
¡°Get a move on, we depart today in case you forgot¡±, every word stabbed at Varius¡¯ head.
¡°Where¡¯s the mage¡± asked Victor, ¡°Has he left already¡± looking about the hall.
¡°I will send someone for him later¡± replied the priest.
¡°Okay¡¡± the commander undid the knots along his spine and neck, ¡°Oh!, rat bastard got his prick wet¡±.
Two hours after his departure from the tavern, Varius was at outside the town gates. The traders set for departure, their wagons loaded and lined. Their supposedly disciplined guard detail faired much worst by contrast, not that he was one to judge in his state.
Avidia broke her teary farewell from the mage, finally releasing Cal from the eternal hug. The girl had grown attached to the mysterious youth over the last two odd weeks.
¡°Be well, and may God light your way¡± Varius clasped hands with Cal, ¡°Lars willing, we shall cross path again one day¡±.
Chapter 5
Surveying downwards at the gentle descending slope from the raised town grounds, Cal watched as the last wagon joined the main road. The front of train long since hidden by tropical trees. With his head still thumping from the previous night, and stomach churning, Cal crossed the short stone bridge leading back to the gate. Leaning at the bridges edge, Cal retched into the spanning gully. Composing himself the mage straightened, thinking better than to condense water as to cleanse his mouth. For he was in no condition to safely work even a simple weave. Passing the lowered drawbridge at the end of the stonework bridge, Cal re-entered the walled town.
Blinking away the abrupt change in brightness from exiting gate, the Manor Lord and an attendant hailed Cal from atop horseback. As he got near them the attendant threw Cal a water skin, carefully as not to unnerve the third horse which he held in place by the reins. The mage proceeded to wash the bile out his palate as best he could, returning the half empty container after a final splash to his face.
¡°Shall we ride to the keep¡± said the Manor Lord, his thick beard failing to hide his mirth.
Drops of water rolled off the blue silk, the attire from home having been spared from attending the night¡¯s revelry. ¡°Wir?¡± asked the mage ¡°You want me to straddle that beast¡±.
¡°Just get on the damn horse will you¡± said Mats, ¡°I¡¯m a busy man¡±.
Cal was reconsidering his choice in parting with the Tristanese, at the very least they knew their place. ¡°I have never ridden a horse¡±, the heat was getting irritating now that he was doing naught to counter the celestial giant ¡°Just bring a carriage¡±.
¡°If I may my Lord, I will assist Sir Cal¡± said the attendant, outfitted in plate with the visor raised.
¡°Fine¡± replied Cal and Mats in concert.
Dismounting, the armoured man assisted Cal atop the stallion. The mage nearly slid to the opposing side as he was boosted atop the saddle, securing his feet within the stirrup with little grace and much swearing. With the young mage atop his horse, the attendant mounted his own steed in a single motion. Handling the reins of Cal¡¯s mount, the attendant started at a trot behind Mats.
The saddle roughed Cal¡¯s inner thigh, ¡°Must we really sit atop this things¡± grumbled the youth.
Juxtaposed to the man in full plate, Mats donned a white cotton tunic. Buckler and arming sword strapped at his hip. ¡°Well you¡¯ll be my guest for the next month¡± said Mats, ¡°If you so much as look my dear Hilde the wrong way though, I will snap you in half. Mage or not¡± giving Cal a meaningful glare.
¡°The famous Acleshen hospitality I have heard so much about¡± replied Cal whilst massaging his temple, horse riding doing little to improve the hangover. ¡°What of my employ?¡± asked the youth.
¡°As Lord of the Manor, I¡¯m not allowed to personally hire mages¡± replied Mats, ¡°I sent a messenger three days back¡± absentmindedly stroking his golden beard ¡°Should have a reply from Vinar in two or three weeks¡±.
¡°Jarl Vinar, my Lord¡± corrected the armoured man, scanning the pedestrians about.
¡°Vinar would most likely hire you¡± Mats ignored the man, ¡°We¡¯ll draw your work conditions in due time. I¡¯m sure Hilde would want to pen it herself¡±. A smile crept upon his face, softening his countenance ¡°To that end, want rank are you?¡±.
¡°What are you on about¡± said Cal, shifting in the saddle as he attempted to spare his groin from the constant jostling.
¡°The Imperial Accreditation Convention, I believe that what it is called by the mage community, my Lord¡± the servant interposed.
¡°You¡¯re spending too much time with Hilde man¡± reproached Mats, ¡°I get enough court talk from Hirds and merchants as is¡±.
Cal brooded over the term, Rakhan Empire¡¯s obsession with cataloguing had always caused him all manner of grief. ¡°Oh, those idiotic little titles your kind like to flaunt. Those do not apply me¡± said Cal as he recalled the purported ranking system.
¡°Aren¡¯t you a pretentious one? Fine, have it your way. I¡¯ll judge for myself then¡± said Mats, bringing their group to a canter.
The accelerated pace coupled with the aroma of freshly baked bread aggravated Cal¡¯s disposition. ¡°Can we continue in silence, I am in no mood for an argument¡± said the mage through grated teeth.
Without exchanging another word the trio rode along the cobbled streets. Most denizens recognised their lord parted to the sides to allow free passage to him, and Cal by association. Between the sun, humidity and the accursed horse, Cal could no longer hold back the bile. Leaning to the stallion¡¯s side Cal regurgitated, divesting naught but stomach fluids which burnt his throat between heaves. Unbeknownst to him, Mats and his servant had come to a stop. White dots danced at the edge of Cal¡¯s sight as he once more accepted the water skin from the armoured man. As he cleaned himself, the mage saw Mats passing a handful of the peculiar note currency to a group of children. Perceiving the youth¡¯s recovery, Mats resumed the group¡¯s travel.
A dozen odd minutes later the three riders reached the castle, at the far end of town. Clanging of chains deafened Cal as the drawbridge lowered, spanning the fifteen feet wide ditch before the fortified wall. Dismounting within the lower baily, Cal urged the Manor Lord leave to retire.
¡°Fine. However, I¡¯ll summon for you in three to four hours¡± said Mats, ¡°Boy, come here¡± calling a youth in the early stages of puberty.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
The youngster placed down the sword he was oiling at a sloth¡¯s pace. A Cra Aesmir traditional arms. Thirty inch iron blade, with a snug one handed grip between a fist wide pommel and guard. The freckled boy wiped his hands off a stained towel as he approached Mats.
¡°This here is Cal, our new guest and future court mage¡± addressed Mats. The formerly lethargic boy beamed at Cal, ¡°Take him to our guest room of honour¡±.
Cal followed the boy through the open grounds, drawing stares from a score of men at arms milling about. The pair crossed the open dual portcullises gate to the upper bailey, which was bereft of any activity. Climbing the stairs to the Keep, Cal spied a small picketed garden nested at the corner of the fortified wall and the towering Keep. Landing at the top of the stairs, Cal wrinkled at the lowered six feet drawbridge leading to the entrance. I will never understand the madness of this pointless defences thought the mage through his pounding head, These wouldn¡¯t even stand against a Lesser Drake.
Having been lead through a needlessly labyrinthine route through the building, Cal arrived at his chamber. A ten by twelve feet affair dominated by a large bed, enveloped by thin mosquito nets and a brass lined drawer at the bed¡¯s base. Dismissing his guide, Cal poured himself a cup of zest flavoured water from a pitcher upon the singular table. Not thrusting himself just yet he left the sliced fruits and roasted nuts upon the silver platter untouched.
Refreshed, the young man undressed and eased into the bed. Enjoying the soft, hugging sensation of a quality mattress for the first time since he had been all but exiled. Streaming through the partially opened stained glass window, the early rays warmed the chamber. With a deliberate exhale, Cal pushed his discomfort to the far reaches of his mind. Eyes closed, the mage directed his thoughts to the sixty feet wide sphere of his mind¡¯s eye. Limiting his attention to the bounds of his chamber, Cal spent the next half hour identifying and tracking the fluid flow of nitrogen and oxygen. And over the next half hour he infused spin within the threads, altering the weaves of the circulating air Cal reduced the vibration of the oxygen and nitrogen molecules, decreasing the temperature. Stabilising the process, Cal coerced the continuous weaving to his subconscious, drifting asleep within moments hence.
Sharp knocks disturbed the youth. Forcing heavy eye lids open, Cal winced at the bright room as he slowly got to his feet. ¡°Einen augenblick!¡± shouted Cal through bleary eyes as he trudged to the door, wearing but his underpants. Sliding the bolt Cal unlocked the door and was greeted by a middle aged woman holding a vessel of steaming water.
¡°Lord Mats requests your presence, Sir¡± said the servant with a curt bow before entering the chamber, placing the vessel upon the table. After laying two neatly folded towels besides the basin, she collected the water pitcher and food plater before departing.
Freshened, the mage wore his silken attire. Considering the heat Cal left his sapphire hooded cloak and vest behind, their gold and platinum patterns gleaming from the sun¡¯s rays. Settling for his ebony trousers and taupe shirt Cal exited his room, only to be met with an elder man.
¡°If I may Sir Calredraxt, my Lord Mats awaits¡± said the man as he led Cal.
Walking silently through the Keep with his queasiness substantially diminished, a mental map slowly formed in the youth¡¯s mind. What he had previously deemed as the work of a mad architect appeared to actually be a deliberate intent to force specific access routes.
Arriving at their destination, Cal recognised the study from his second day in the town. The armoured man from the morning stepped away from the door to allow the pair access. Still encased in steel, the man had eschewed his earlier lance in favour of a short poleaxe. How does he survive the heat wondered the young mage. Similar to his previous visit the elder man introduced Cal to Mats and his daughter, and with Mats invitation the youth sat before the heavy desk.
¡°How fairs your accommodations, Sir?¡± asked Hilde, a curt smile plastered on her face.
¡°Passable, better than the road at least¡± replied Cal.
¡°Do inform us if you require anything¡±, Hilde brow twitched slightly ¡°If it pleases you, shall we discuss your future role¡ª¡±.
¡°Hold up¡± interrupted Cal ¡°I was to understand that I was a guest for the time being, let us leave such talk to when, and if you¡¯re Jarl decides to hires me¡±.
Hilde¡¯s face slowly reddened. With the fa?ade crumbling, it occurred to Cal for the first time that the woman could barely be older than himself, if even. ¡°Shall we meet in the Lower Bailey?¡± she said through half clenched teeth before storming out the study.
¡°Did I miss something?¡± asked Cal, still staring at the door.
¡°I think you pissed her of¡± replied Mats, ¡°At times I forget how young my little Hilde really is¡±.
¡°And why would she be angered at me?¡±.
¡°She¡¯s a stickler for courtesy, takes that after my dearly departed wife¡± said Mats with a warm smile, ¡°However, she takes her temper from me¡±.
Cal took a honey bun from atop the desk, ¡°So what of meeting outside¡± the warm pastry melted in his mount with a touch of cinnamon.
¡°If I were to guess, she wants a duel¡±.
¡°Is that not a bit rash¡± said Cal, ¡°Surely I am not the first guest to oppose her?¡±.
The broad shouldered man broke eye contact with the youth, twiddling his fingers. ¡°Maybe the others were encouraged to go along¡± he finally said.
¡°And now I must contend with your excess doting¡±.
¡°Maybe I¡¯ve spoiled her a wee little bit¡± conceded Mats.
¡°If I must, fine¡± Cal stole another bun from Mats¡¯ desk, ¡°Not like I have anything better to do¡± gorging himself as hunger took hold.
¡°One thing you should know¡± Mats pulled his plate away from the youth, ¡°Magic aren¡¯t allowed¡±.
The food caught in Cal¡¯s throat, almost choking him ¡°Wait what!¡±. The bearded man chuckled at Cal, almost daring him to protest. ¡°So be it. Your games, your rules¡± said the youth as he capitulated.
Having donned the mail shirt with a padded jacket beneath along with the open faced iron helmet, Cal tested the Cra Aesmir sword and round shield. Hoisting the wide wooden shield awkwardly, the mage approached the similarly equipped Hilde. A ring of men at arms formed around the pair with Mats standing between the duellist as the arbitrator.
¡°BEGIN!¡± shouted Mats as he moved away.
Hilde charged the young man shield first, and in response Cal lowered his stance. The woman crashed against Cal¡¯s shield, but he held fast. With his superior strength Cal shoved against Hilde, pushing her three steps back. Following the aggression Cal swung the sword in a wide overhead arc, his left hand swinging behind him like a counter weight. His sword slid across Hilde¡¯s angled shield, catching upon the iron boss. Hilde pushed Cal¡¯s sword to the side, trapping his sword outside as she stepped in. Before Cal could recover, Hilde held sword four inches to his neck.
¡°HALT¡± bellowed Mats.
¡°Are we done here¡±, Cal let the sword and shield drop to the ground ¡°It¡¯s bloody hot under this jacket¡±. The woman¡¯s breathing grew ragged as she swung the dull sword with wanton abandon at Cal¡¯s mailed mid-section. Sparks flew as the sword screeched against a translucent film half an inch from the mail.
¡°No magic!¡± shouted Hilde.
¡°The duel already ended¡± replied Cal.