by Clark Bolton
Onaleen raised her hand and asked. “What is demonology?”
He was glad she asked, though he hoped she really had no desire or talent in this area as the Runeholdens thought it a truly black art. “It’s the control and summoning of demons and the like … something I would not encourage … or even think to get involved in.”
“Ohh! Well how about elementalism?”
“That deals with the four elements of water, fire, air, and earth … and if I remember correctly can involve a kind of preference or aptitude for just one of them over the others. So I suppose an elementalist of the fire variety would be more adept at fire based spells as opposed to water based.”
Haspeth asked the next question of Autbek. “What about druids, O’t? Aren’t they like a specialist?”
Autbek furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. “You know, Haspeth, I don’t know … I’ve read very little about them … always thought they were nature based … so I supposed they might be considered that.”
“Is that like dancing out in the woods … like spirit-talkers?” Pemmesa asked.
“Umm … no I don’t think so … I always thought spirit-talker was just another name for sorcerers … but you might be right come to think about it.” He never recalled anyone at Runeholden discussing it or Tenric for that matter.
With no more questions for the moment he moved on to discussing cantrips with them in hopes of keeping them motivated for the many more months of training they needed before he figured they were ready to cast one. He had brought a list of cantrips for the girls to look at and so laid it down on the table for them to read.
“Here are a list of most cantrips I’m aware of. Though keep in mind that there are in theory a limitless number of them since even a moderately skilled mage can come up with his own with some work.”
“Have you ever written your own, sir?” Onaleen suddenly asked.
“Now call me O’t, please Onaleen … and no, come to think of it I never have.” That was not quite true, he realized, he had played a little with arcane-script when he was very young. That is until he got caught at it, after which he had been made to promise never to do that again.
The list included such cantrips as Daze, which he had never had the nerve to cast on anyone. Light, which made things shine like a torch for a short time. Telekinesis, which at one time he had been very skilled at since it allowed one to move about small objects with a wave of a hand which turned out to really make his father and teachers angry. Thinking now he recalled how to cast Telekinesis and so did so making a scroll slide to his hand from far across the table.
“Wow!” The girls exclaimed as they paused before looking back at the list.
“This one, called Slide of Hand, is one Castor is getting pretty good at I can tell you first hand!” The kid could pick just about anyone's pocket now, or remove a bracelet off a person’s wrist in a flash.
“Could do that without magic.” Castor replied from the back of the room.
“Bloody sneak-thief!” Haspeth told him with a look of genuine disgust on his face.
“Resistance! What does that do, O’t?” Onaleen asked.
“That I think makes you feel warm on a cold day, or cool on a hot day. Now this one … Cure … looks useful though I’ve never seen anyone try it because … well most mages I’ve known can’t or won’t do those.”
They discussed more of the cantrips and he was able to demonstrate a few more before he went back to lecturing about arcane-script again. This caused some minor grumbling, which actually made him chuckle as he recalled his struggle with the subject.
“If you don’t master this … all your other magecraft will suffer!” The girls looked unconvinced, but that was ok for now, they would understand by this time next year he was sure.
Chapter 10
Walking back to the mages wing after class with Haspeth and Castor, Autbek felt in high spirits until he glanced up at the tower that held the Dieknotkow. This suddenly reminded him of all the other things that were happening so fast now, things not at all within his control as he had while teaching. Though not all bad it just seemed changes were coming too swiftly.
The Dieknotkow spoke ever clearer, Castor learned his first illusion cantrip, and even Haspeth showed significantly more motivation in learning minor spells. Then there was Berdtom and his theories, which Autbek had to admit tended to become reality with a very high frequency. Eifled only seemed to encourage Berdtom in this, and when the two got together things got a little strange in Autbek’s opinion.
“The storm is approaching, O’t, and you will need to keep your head low!” Berdtom had warned as they sat in Autbek’s waiting room outside of the mage wing several days ago.
“I don’t see any signs of this Tom! I mean my master works tirelessly with the court engineers on this academy they are building, and I see endless numbers of lords streaming in and out of the mages wing at times.”
“Well the signs are there for those who have the eyes to see it.” Berdtom replied. “The realms treasurers are balking at the enormity of the project and have had many a battle with Tenric over it. So contentious have they become that the Lord Treasurer himself will not even speak with Tenric unless the Earl himself is present for fear of being harmed.”
“What do you mean? My master would not do harm to someone such as this.”
“Well, Lord Gerat seems not to think so. He appears to have a great fear of being transformed into a rabbit, which I assume originates with Tenric.”
“Yeah, but is that not Lord Gerat’s job to protest spending in hopes of saving more for other things … like roads and men-at-arms! I know father always brought up the cost of the most trivial items so that others would be forced to defend their purchase.”
“Mark these words, O’t, the treasury will pull the funding on this academy in less time than it takes for the moon to cycle once! And when this happens Tenric will resign and leave Astrum forever.”
Autbek was silent for a minute. “If you’re right then he takes everything and leaves.” The thought scared him. No library, no instructors, and no Dieknotkow. He pictured him, Haspeth, and Castor sitting in a big empty room planning how they would escape this madness.
“No, O’t, he will leave with nothing but the people he arrived with. Everything now belongs to the academy and that stays here, though in name only, for it belongs to the realm now. The contracts were signed to prevent this, and there are other contingencies being put in place.
“You’ll never get the Dieknotkow from him … he’ll not leave without it!” Autbek was sure of that. His master spent no time with the man-bird anymore but never stopped talking about it.
“He will O’t, even great mages have peers to please.”
Autbek furrowed his brow at that statement. He knew little of other mages as Tenric spoke little of them. In fact the only names he recalled were those of dead ones, like Yoss Thie who had posthumously donated his library to Tenric, increasing it by a hundredfold.
“What do you mean, there are others to replace Tenric?” His hopes of this were soon dashed.
“No! Just let me say that Tenric has corresponded with mages outside of Bene Aimont and the Earl knows he is tempted to join their cabal. Something he can’t do if his reputation here is destroyed.”
“How can you know these things Tom? Do you have a scrying bowl like Tenric’s?” He asked incredulously.
“I make it my business now to know these things, O’t. I did it for Runeholden and now I do it for you!” He smiled wickedly.
“Really?”
“Yes, now wait until you hear the cost of my services,” He joked.
“Ah … well don’t forget about rabbits!” Autbek replied with his own smile.
“Touché!” Berdtom replied with a bow.
A couple of days before he was to attend the baroness’s party at her mansion in the city Autbek was sitting in his room with Haspeth and Castor around him trying to plan out what they would do at the party
. Autbek had not yet fully decided whether anyone other than himself would be attending this party, which he understood would involve at most a couple of dozen guests.
As they began to argue about who could go they were interrupted suddenly by Sterncast, who almost never entered their room. This time he did and looked very disheveled and outright distressed as he informed them why he had barged in.
Holding out a letter for Autbek to take he said, “Looks like you have to go now, Autbek!” Sterncast had regret written all over his face as he continued. “They are waiting for you, so you best not delay. They won’t like it and you won’t like it either if they’re mad!”
Autbek winced at Sterncast’s obvious distress as he examined the letter. It was from Lord Cachner, the Earl’s undisputed right-hand man, and it was summoning him to appear before Cachner immediately and without delay. The last few lines of the letter seemed confusing and a bit ominous to him.
… to a manner cordial and express shall all mages appear when summoned. Character and intent shall be examined by Lord Captain Gosom of the Comusa in accordance with their standards. No persons shall be exempt who have sworn service to the Mage-Councilor be they mages or be they apprentices. Let all forces and gear be freed and embolden to comply with this edict.
-Cachner
“Why?”
“I can’t say … but the soldiers are waiting for you.” Sterncast said as he pointed down the corridor in the direction of the black-door.
“Why can’t you say?” Autbek demanded to know as he had the distinct feeling Sterncast was not telling him something.
Sterncast just shook his and said, “Sorry … I can’t.”
Autbek then rushed from the room and down the corridor toward the black-door, but before he got here he encounter Castor who was on his back toward him. The kid must have ran out unnoticed he figured while he was talking to Sterncast.
“Don’t go that way, O’t!” Castor warned in a hushed tone. “There are a bunch of them, including a captain.”
Autbek gasped at Castor in shock and then decided he needed to try and talk with his master before the soldiers got a hold of him. “Where is master Tenric?” He asked of Sterncast when they got back to his room.
“He’s not here … and he can’t help you.” Sterncast exclaimed. “He couldn’t help me … I’m sorry.”
Not willing to give up so easily Autbek rushed down to Tenric’s office, passing Eifled on the way, who had again come to investigate the contents of the library. Tenric was nowhere to be found nor was anyone else he realized.
“Eifled?” Autbek gasped as he rushed back to the man. “What do you make of this?’ He asked as he tried to talk more quietly and to calm himself. Both Berdtom and Eifled had tried to keep their relationship with him a secret, but he felt like there was no time for secrecy at the moment.
Eifled took the letter and quickly read it and then he paused for a moment before getting a firm grasp on Autbek’s wrist. “Have you heard of these Comusa, O’t.?” He asked quietly as he pulled Autbek to him. When Autbek shook his head Eifled asked, “You have not been interrogated before I think, correct?”
“No, nothing like that!”
Eifled kept ahold of his wrist as he leaned in to talk into his ear. “Then you needn’t worry, O’t, for you are free to talk openly about all you know and this you can tell them.” Eifled then lowered the tone of his already baritone voice to say in a near whisper. “You don’t have anything to hide … and so of course you’ll find that you have nothing to say. Keep this in your mind always!”
Autbek nodded his head as Eifled allowed him to stand erect again. “Who are they?” Autbek whispered.
“They are mage hunters.” Eifled replied with a sour look on his face. “They are a strange cult … mages really … in a way, but they would never admit that. They are favored by the elite in the Six-Cities and other places where lords have good reasons to fear people like yourself.”
“What could they want of me, I’ve done nothing and I don’t think Sterncast has either?”
Eifled shrugged. “Preparation I suppose, they may just want to get to know their enemy.”
It began to dawn on him that Berdtom’s prediction concerning the ouster of Tenric was coming true. “Who brought them here?” He asked as he thought seriously about running.
“Cachner I would guess, or the Earl, but it doesn’t matter. They are here and that means Tenric will feel great pressure either to find this city its catastrophe or to leave.”
Autbek turned and walked slowly to the nearest corner and looked around it carefully. “What should I do?”
“If you’re thinking of flight I would say it is unwise. These Comusa may be harsh with you, O’t, but not as harsh as the Earl should you flee, and they are most apt at hunting down mages.”
He felt like a prisoner as he was marched down the palace’s main corridors and with guards in front of him and behind Autbek was pretty sure he was one. When they turned a corner into a section of the palace that he had never been in before and then began descending stairs he had a sinking feeling in his gut that he was about to get a special tour of the dungeon. His guards said little when he had asked where they were taking him, and the captain who was leading them had a most grim look to his face.
“Captain!” A commanding voice called from behind them just as they began to descend a second flight of stairs. The captain called a halt and then looked back to see who was.
“My lord?” The captain called out over his soldiers and Autbek.
“The Vis Mage-Councilor is an officer of the court, I’ll not have him treated such without a warrant from the Earl.” At this point Autbek could see that it was Lord Bloew, one of the courts high magistrates. Behind him seemed to be a crowd of people all very eager to catch a glimpse of him apparently.
Without hesitation the captain ordered his men about and Autbek found himself being marched back up into the midst of onlookers. That’s when he caught sight of two familiar faces which made this whole event seem even more confusing. The first was Castor who was not quite disguised enough to evade Autbek’s eye. The kid was dressed as a scribe and his face was altered by some minor illusion Autbek guessed.
The second person he recognized was Fesmbol who aggressively pushed himself to the front of the lords and ladies gathered in the corridor. Neither said anything to Autbek as he was gently set aside as the Captain had words with Lord Bloew.
“My lord, I was acting under orders from Lord Cachner.” The captain said in his defense which seemed to hold no sway with Bloew.
“Inconsequential Captain, anyways you’ll find Lord Cachner in his offices, waiting for you I should think.” Lord Bloew said sternly.
“Yes my lord!” The Captain replied and so pointed his men in that direction.
Fesmbol then stepped out in front of them and pressed his way past the soldiers while wearing a small grin. “No need to have my favorite mage suffer needlessly.” He said softly as he walked by Autbek.
Autbek could only think to nod and then gasp as Fesmbol walked off with Castor in tow. His attention was soon turned back to his predicament when he found himself led into a sitting room where Lord Cachner stood with two other men. The two strangers were clearly not of Astrum or Bene Aimont as their clothing represented a different style. Both were heavily armed and looked to be wearing leather armor of some type, and virtually everything they wore was either black or silver.
Cachner motioned for Autbek to sit in a chair they had set out for him and after he did one of the strangers came to sit in a chair that directly faced his. The man’s sword was so long he had to detach the scabbard from his belt before he sat down and so Autbek found himself staring past a sword that the man sat on end between them.
“You practice magic!” The man said in a thick accent that made prolonged use of vowels. It was a statement and not a question that much was clear to everyone in the room including Autbek. The man then leaned forward to put much of his weight on
the hilt of his sword as he stared intently into Autbek’s eyes.
The man was definitely not of the same stock as the men of Astrum or near about, Autbek could see. With black hair and extremely thick beard and mustache the tall man would have stood out anywhere Autbek had ever visited.
“May I-“
“No!” The man yelled sharply to cut off any question Autbek had been about to ask. Continuing to stare for a few moments longer the man then pulled a fingers-width of his blade out of the scabbard. Autbek felt squeamish almost immediately.
It took Autbek a few moments to realize that the sword itself was the source of his sudden nausea and the strange whishing noise in his head that was starting to make it ache. The two sensations worked together to force him to shut his eyes as a wave of dizziness threated to topple him from his chair.
A tiny smile came to the man’s face as he finally introduced himself. “I am Gosom, Lord Captain of the Comusa!” He declared as he seemed to revel in Autbek’s discomfort. “And you are no apprentice, Lord AAATTTBEEEK!” He spat as he slammed the sword back into its scabbard.
Cachner cleared his throat at this point before saying, “Do be kind, Captain, he is one of us, and so we do wish to keep him well.”
Gosom nodded his head in understanding and then gave Autbek one more look of disgust before setting his sword aside and reaching out to grasp hold of the amulet Autbek had around his neck. “Where did you get this?” Gosom demanded to know as he examined it closely in his gloved hand.
It was the protection amulet that Autbek had purchased with the help of Haspeth from an unsuspecting merchant, who had thought it nothing more than a fancy charm. “I bought it in Astrum, not long ago.” Autbek replied. He was starting to feel better now and was trying hard not to give away any information that might encourage Gosom to dig deeper, though in fact he was not sure he actually had anything to hide, other than embarrassing theories.
