Mageborn: Book 04 - The God-Stone War

by Michael G. Manning

  A short walk down the stairs took us to the circle, and a much longer flight of stairs then took us down to the fortress itself. It was unusual as castles go, in that it wasn’t built around a central keep. Instead it was built around a large, circular courtyard, with one main gate leading out to the north, toward the Myrtle River and the bridge that led across it to Albamarl. Above the gate was the massive bailey that Traveler’s Pinnacle was built on top of. The rest of the fortress consisted of a fifty foot thick wall that encircled the courtyard, punctuated every thirty yards by a small guard tower.

  The central courtyard itself held two ramps leading down and under the walls. Those ramps each led a quarter mile out to the eastern and western-most points of the World Road itself, which was underground. Once we had reached the level of the courtyard itself, I led the two kings and Elaine out and down the eastern ramp.

  I called it a ramp, but in truth it was a part of the road, paved and leading downward at a gentle grade. We were quickly enclosed in stone, but above our heads were enchanted globes providing a steady glow. The overall illumination level was less than full daylight, but bright enough to read if someone were keen to do so.

  Nicholas was already impressed. “Those lights… are those magical as well?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Did you make all of these? If this road travels a quarter of a mile in each direction and then another mile and a half around the circle… there must be thousands of them!” he exclaimed.

  “Indeed,” I answered smoothly, “though I did not make them all by myself. Elaine and her father and brother have all spent time helping to construct the enchanted globes.” In fact, I had chosen the eastern road because the lights weren’t finished yet to fully light the western side. George and his father would be working on some of those even as we spoke. We all took it in turns to produce some of the lights, and even so it might be another year before we had finished them all.

  We continued onward. The distance along the eastern road was almost a quarter of a mile before we reached the point at which it joined, what I thought of as the World Road itself. A massive iron portcullis marked the ceiling above us about ten yards from where the two roads, or at this point, ‘tunnels’, met. Nicholas remarked upon it, “I see a portcullis above but no gate. Is that intentional?”

  I chuckled. “There’s a gate, you just didn’t see it.” I pointed back along the road we had just trod. “Over here,” I said as I walked back twenty yards. “See these two parallel lines?” The lines I had designated were about five feet apart and crossed the entire road. They also continued up each wall and across the ceiling.

  “Yes.”

  “The stone in the floor can drop about two feet and the stone in the walls can recess a similar amount,” I indicated the area between the lines on the floor and both walls. “When that happens, the stone in the ceiling slides down at a rapid, but controlled rate, creating a sheer stone wall that fits into those grooves and completely seals the road. That is our ‘gate’, but we refer to it as a ‘lock’, since one of its purposes is to prevent water from flowing up this road if we decide to flood the World Road.”

  “How is it operated?” he asked.

  “Well, normally such a thing would be worked using gears and winches, turned by either men or draft animals, to provide the power. In this case however, the weight of that much stone made such an arrangement extremely impractical,” I said. Not to mention that there are far too many of these locks to keep men at them twenty four hours a day, I added mentally. “Instead, the mechanism is driven by an enchantment I designed, and it is controlled by a set of levers located within the main keep.”

  I neglected to add certain details, like the fact that there were such locks at both ends of the eastern and western access roads, along each quarter section of the World Road, and in front of each of the twenty three portals. The World Road could be sealed into four separate sections, or even six if you counted the eastern and western access roads.

  King James’ main stipulation, before committing resources to building the road, had been that it should never become a threat to Lothion itself if an enemy gained access to it. The locks, the flooding mechanism, and even the ability to destroy the entire road with magma, those had been my answer to his requirement. Even more importantly, the enchantments that controlled the locks, the portals, and lighting, could all be activated and controlled by means of levers, providing the user knew the appropriate command words. That meant that the road could be managed and defended by anyone given the proper knowledge, wizard or not.

  Nicholas’ face grew thoughtful before he asked another question, “I am no expert on magic, but surely these things must take power to operate. Where does that power come from?”

  My estimation of Nicholas’ intellect went up a notch. I also wondered if he might be hinting at the whereabouts of the God-Stone. After defeating Celior and imprisoning him, I had generally kept the existence of the stone a secret. Some naively believed I had slain him, while some still worshipped him, ignorant of the fact that he was no longer answering prayers. King James and some of the greater peers of Lothion had been informed of the truth, including the existence of the God-Stone, but the general public was still in the dark. It was quite likely however, that Nicholas had learned of it through his own network of informants, which was a polite way of referring to spies working for a friendly ruler.

  He had missed the mark this time though; the stone wasn’t required in the slightest for any of this. I drew a deep breath before answering, “The lighting doesn’t take much power, but you are correct that the locks do take a more considerable amount. What you might not realize though, is that that power is only drawn upon once.”

  Nicholas frowned, “You’ll have to clarify for me. I am no expert in these things.”

  “It comes down to the basic difference between what wizards refer to as ‘wards’ and ‘enchantments’,” I explained carefully. “Both are constructed using symbols that we refer to as ‘runes’, but in practice they use power in different ways. Wards can be created simply and quickly, but they do not retain power indefinitely, and over time they wear out. Enchantments are made using specific geometric alignments that result in their power being conserved indefinitely.

  In the case of these locks’ for example, the power built into the enchantment is enough to move the stones and lower the primary gate stone into place, but once that action is accomplished, the power is not lost. Rather, the potential energy that was released as the main stone descends, is stored within the enchantment, and when it is activated again, that power is applied in reverse to raise the stone and restore the wall stones to their position holding it up.” I finished the explanation and waited to see if he had any questions and he didn’t disappoint.

  “That hardly seems possible. Isn’t some energy lost during the process?”

  Very astute, I observed silently, someone has studied basic science and engineering. “That is true, both in normal machines, and in magic, such as the ‘wards’ I described a moment ago. However, enchantments are perfectly balanced constructs; they store aythar in three dimensional arrangements that can include movement between two states, in this case essentially ‘up’ and ‘down’,” I told him.

  “The great philosophers say that we live in a world defined by four dimensions, not three,” the King of Gododdin replied, in a manner that made me feel as if I had fallen into an academic debate.

  I grinned, “You mean time?”

  “Yes, time,” Nicholas remarked, as both Elaine and James watched our discussion with confusion on their faces.

  “You’ve hit upon the crux of it. The geometric structure of an enchantment is such, that it forces the aythar within it into a state that is independent of the fourth dimension. It is essentially isolated from time itself,” I said, with some enthusiasm. I was warming to my subject, and glad to finally have an audience that might understand. I had taught the Prathions the methods to produce some of m
y enchantments, but they had yet to really understand the underlying rules.

  “I didn’t think time could be either stopped or reversed…,” said Nicholas a bit hesitantly.

  “The other three dimensions can be traversed in both directions, there is no reason to think time should be otherwise,” I said, slightly impressed with my own logic. I hadn’t fully thought the logic through like this before. The geometry and the rules it had to follow had come to me almost intuitively, but until now I hadn’t fully understood the implications. Now the stasis field effect makes sense, I realized. A stasis enchantment included a physical space within it, and isolated it in time in the same way that other enchantments isolated themselves from the arrow of time. A lot of things began falling into place in my mind, like pieces of a puzzle.

  Our conversation died off after that, and so we simply walked, following the curve of the World Road until we reached the first of the portals. It was a magnificent stone structure along the outside wall of the road, a stone arch twenty foot high and twenty foot from side to side. The stones were covered in massive, yet utterly perfect and precise runes. I had etched them there myself, nearly a year ago. A flat tablet set above the arch named the portal’s destination, ‘Verningham’, one of Lothion’s three largest port cities.

  The archway itself held a flat stone surface, for the portals were still inactive. James ran his hand across the smooth granite. “How long before you will be able to activate them, Mordecai?” he asked, more for our guest’s benefit than his own.

  “All six of the Lothion portals are capable of being opened when we are ready for them,” I responded, “but their respective fortresses are not yet finished. Aside from that, the other half of the road is still incomplete.”

  Nicholas spoke up, “What destinations will the portals connect to? I see this one will go to Verningham.”

  “Verningham, Cantley, Turlington, Malvern, Lancaster, and Arundel,” I replied quickly. “In the future we hope to connect many more destinations, provided we can establish a significant level of trust.”

  “I assume you mean Gododdin,” he said intently.

  “Surencia, Dalensa, Relliton, Issip, and Iverly, are all cities we think might benefit greatly,” James added, naming the major population centers of Gododdin.

  The King of Gododdin looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I hate to belabor the point, but I’m sure you realize that creating portals in all the major cities of Gododdin would put us entirely at the mercy of Lothion, or whoever controlled the World Road in the future.”

  You are already completely at our mercy as it is. “The fortresses constructed at each destination serve a dual purpose,” I began. “They protect the World Road, but they also protect the region where they are located. Any future portals constructed in a foreign nation, such as Gododdin, would include the ability to deactivate the portal from either end. This would enable you to seal your borders completely if needed.”

  “Your words are reassuring, as I am sure they are meant to be, but still you must understand the hesitation I would feel; even as I simultaneously thank your country for its recent and continuing assistance with the shiggreth.” Nicholas managed to convey a tone of both diplomacy and caution, without giving offense.

  James took up the debate at that point, sparing me from arguing over matters of state. “Beyond our historical issues, our two nations have a lot in common, Nicholas, and neither of us had any vested interest in the previous conflict.” He reached out to touch the King of Gododdin’s elbow in a friendly gesture.

  Nicholas didn’t withdraw physically from James’ overture, but his words did that for him, “You know as well as I do James, the future cares little for our friendship. Politics and world events could easily set us against one another someday, and even if we avoid such hurdles ourselves, we have to think of our future successors. Could I put one of them in such an untenable position, completely at the mercy of whoever rules your nation?”

  As the King of Gododdin spoke I couldn’t help agreeing with his reasoning. His arguments were entirely valid, but James was not one to give up so easily.

  “You make a good point,” said James before beginning his rebuttal, “but you fail to consider the impact that this road will have upon the future economies of our respective lands.”

  Nicholas set one hand to his hip and faced James squarely, giving him his full attention. “Pray continue.”

  “Once the World Road opens, Lothion will experience an economic boom, as traders, farmers, and craftsmen begin to take advantage of the vastly improved travel and trade between all parts of Lothion. At the same time, Gododdin is still recovering from the devastation wrought upon it by the Children of Mal’goroth, followed by the infestation of the shiggreth,” James elaborated.

  “I see where you are leading, but there will be more time in the future to rethink the decision, if things do work as you suppose they will,” the other king responded.

  “There is more to consider than just Gododdin and Lothion,” James replied, with hands held wide in a gesture of resignation. “Dunbar to the East will likely be very interested in a method of easy trade across the Elentir Mountains. The city-state of Agraden would also benefit greatly. Beyond those lie the possibilities of trade with nations even further removed. Where would that leave Gododdin? It would be destined to become a stagnant backwater, eclipsed and overshadowed by its neighbors. What option is that?”

  A muscle twitched in Nicholas’ jaw, and I began to feel an uncomfortable tension rising. The King of Gododdin spoke again, “That sounds uncomfortably close to an ultimatum, but I will answer the question. The choice seems to lie between stagnation, and becoming a vassal state attached to Lothion’s rising star. Do not put my back to the wall, James.”

  I watched the former Duke of Lancaster as he dealt with the King of Gododdin, as a student might watch a well-respected teacher, with a mixture of awe and admiration. Thus far he had dealt admirably with his fellow head of state, but it was his final twist that made me realize that a lifetime of negotiating had given his diplomatic skills a masterful polish.

  James assumed a look of great consternation as he answered, “Don’t mistake me Nicholas. It has not been my intention to pressure or intimidate. I am simply speculating on the future; and based on my opinion, I have chosen to offer you the first opportunity to enjoy the benefits that this road will bring, before offering it to Dunbar.” In one stroke he had turned what might have been interpreted as a threat, into a friendly offer. He had also given Nicholas a way to escape the argument without losing face.

  A pregnant pause settled on the air as the King of Gododdin mulled over James Lancaster’s words. After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, he smiled and put a hand to his brother monarch’s shoulder. “Forgive me for seeming tense James, my remark was ill-considered. I did not mean to imply that you would use such strong-arm tactics against me. Nor did I think on the potential advantage you were kindly offering me. Give me some time to consider it and I will give you an answer soon after I return home.”

  James grinned and clapped Nicholas upon the shoulder, “A fair answer my friend. Let us leave these matters for now!” Turning he addressed me directly, “Mordecai, I understand you probably have much to see about this day, would you dine with us this evening?”

  “Certainly” I answered quickly.

  “Bring Dorian with you as well, I haven’t seen him in ages,” James added.

  Nicholas nodded agreeably, “Yes that would be perfect. I have been looking for a good opportunity to discuss matters with the headmaster of the Knights of Stone. It would also allow me to publicly thank him for what he has done already for my people.” He glanced at Elaine and added, “Be sure to bring Elaine as well.”

  Elaine blushed and I began to have an entirely new set of worries. The somewhat young King of Gododdin was still unwed after all.

  Chapter 9

  The dining hall within the royal palace of Albamarl was of such quality tha
t it made my own look rather squalid. Where the hall at Castle Cameron was constructed with dressed granite stone and heavy oaken timbers, adorned only with tapestries and occasionally fresh pine boughs, its counterpart at the royal palace was entirely different. While most of the palace was constructed of rose granite, the constant pink color grew tiresome quickly. Instead, the walls inside the palace were dressed with a variety of different marble hues, and in some places they were wood paneled. The dining hall was no exception, the walls having been covered in white marble.

  Though the hall was far inside the palace, windows were cut high along the walls near the ceiling, and panes of thinly cut alabaster allowed a pleasant light in during the daytime. In the evenings, the hall was lit by my enchanted globes. I had replaced the oil lamps several years ago, and the King had been kind enough to deposit a sizeable sum into the Cameron accounts to repay me.

  We sat at a long table with James at the head and with Genevieve at his right hand. I was next to Her Majesty and Penny sat beside me, followed by Dorian, Rose, Walter, and Elaine. Yes, Walter had come to keep an eye on his impressionable daughter, or perhaps he had come to encourage a match, I wasn’t really sure.

  Sitting directly across from me was King Nicholas, and next to him was his chief knight, Sir Barnabas. Beside them was Lord Gerald Winfield, who still retained the position of Lord High Justicer, a position he had had for years. In fact he had been the man to preside over the grievance brought against James by the Duke of Tremont after I had killed his son some seven or eight years ago. Thank goodness Tremont isn’t here, I thought to myself. That would have been the pinnacle of awkwardness.

  Not that I really ever worried about the Duke of Tremont appearing in court. Since James’ ascension to the throne and my subsequent rise in prominence, he had effectively retired from dabbling in court politics.