Centyr Dominance

by Michael G. Manning

  The mother nodded, “We don’t see many visitors out here, and when Laura heard there was a girl near her own age, she wanted to meet her.”

  Laura’s eyes went to the floor when she heard her name. The girl seemed intensely shy. Moira started to introduce herself, but Chad spoke quickly.

  “My daughter don’t talk much. Her mother had trouble while giving birth, an’ it did somethin’ funny to her. She can manage a word or two now an’ then, but she stammers so badly she tends to avoid conversation.”

  Moira gave the hunter a look that held the promise of future retribution before suppressing her irritation and offering her hand to the younger woman. “I’m M—G—Gertie,” she said, narrowly avoiding giving her own name. The stammer made it easy to cover her mistake.

  Laura took her hand eagerly, flashing a nervous smile and warm brown eyes as she did. She lifted a small wooden box with her other hand. Her face conveyed an unspoken question.

  Sarah appeared slightly embarrassed, “She can’t talk. There was an accident when she was younger, before we moved out here. She wants to know if you would like to play a game.”

  Moira nodded and watched as Laura placed her box on the ground and opened it. The others split the hard loaf of bread that was in the basket. The beans were in a small pot, and there were no bowls and only one spoon, so they were forced to take turns eating. The silent girl unpacked her playing pieces as they did.

  It was a simple checkered board, and the chess pieces were hand carved. One of the knights was missing, and a dark colored stone had been substituted for it. Moira sat across from the girl and began setting up the pieces on her side. Chess was a common pastime in her own home, and she guessed that it was probably the only entertainment these people had out here.

  It must get boring, playing the same two other people all the time, she thought to herself.

  The other girl, Laura, looked at her expectantly once the board was ready, excitement in her eyes. She had given Moira the white pieces, so it was her turn first.

  Moira grinned at her. The poor thing doesn’t know what’s coming. She relished the game. Her father was possibly the best player in Castle Cameron, and she had grown up playing from a young age. She hadn’t encountered many people who could give her a good game outside of her own family, other than Gram’s mother, Rose.

  The next quarter of an hour proved educational. After a slow start, she found herself being hemmed in as her defense was systematically picked apart. She had drastically underestimated her opponent. Her defeat came as an inevitable consequence.

  Laura gave her a shy glance as she placed her in checkmate. Her expression showed clearly that she worried she might have offended her.

  Moira smiled, “Y—you’re g—g—good!” Being forced to pretend to stammer was more annoying than losing the game.

  Laura smiled in return and held out a piece toward Chad, silently asking if he might like to play.

  “Nah lass, I can see ye have me outmatched already,” he demurred.

  Moira took up the challenge once more, and this time she played carefully from the beginning. The game lasted longer, and she put up a hard fight, but the result was the same. Damn! She’s really good, she thought to herself.

  It was clear that the girl she was playing was far more intelligent than she had initially assumed, and Moira began to divide her attention, using her magesight to study the girl who was forcing her to thoroughly reassess her opinion of her own chess skills.

  Back at home she normally couldn’t study people’s minds. Her father’s enchanted pendants effectively shielded the minds of everyone she had grown up around, so it was a relatively rare occasion for her to be able to watch the inner workings of other human beings.

  Laura’s aythar was normal in most regards, but the working of her mind was unusually sophisticated. Moira could readily see the damaged areas of her brain, but it was the undamaged portions that fascinated her. She couldn’t read the girl’s thoughts, not without more direct contact, but just by watching, she could tell that Laura’s mind was exceptionally capable. The peasant girl’s mind moved rapidly as she considered the chessboard, examining and discarding possibilities with brutal efficiency.

  She’s brilliant, noted Moira. I wonder if this is what Lady Rose’s mind looks like when she’s not wearing one of the pendants. She suppressed a sudden urge to reach out and touch the other girl more directly, mind to mind.

  That was something she was not supposed to do, her mother had warned her about it previously.

  Not her real mother, of course, but Moira Centyr, the shade left behind by her original mother, who had died over a thousand years past. She had cautioned her about such contact years ago, before she had been given a new body and become human.

  You must never allow yourself to touch the minds of normal humans, the Stone-Lady had warned her.

  “Why not?” she had asked. She had been only ten at the time.

  You are a Centyr mage. We perceive the mind in a different way.

  “But I talk to Dad and my brother that way all the time,” Moira had protested.

  They are wizards. Their minds are not so delicate.

  “And Mother and Father talk mind to mind sometimes…”

  Your father is not a Centyr. We must be more careful.

  Why? asked Moira silently.

  We can change things. We have a special affinity for the aythar of the mind, but without sufficient skill even the slightest touch could alter or damage a human’s mind.

  “Is that why everyone wears those necklaces Father makes?” she had asked.

  No. Your father made those for a different reason, but it is for the best that they wear them. In my day, Centyr children were kept away from non-mages until they were old enough to control their impulses.

  “I would never hurt someone,” she had insisted.

  Have you ever built a house of cards? the Stone-Lady had asked. What happens when your younger brother finds it? Now imagine if everyone’s mind were a complex house of cards, one touch can bring the entire thing tumbling down. That’s why young Centyr mages were kept isolated. Even after you are grown, you must avoid contact with normal minds. The tiniest mistake can destroy someone’s life, and if ever they suspect what you can do, they will fear you.

  “I should return,” said Sarah, breaking Moira’s train of thought.

  Her daughter shook her head negatively. She wanted to play more, and it was obvious that her new friend was willing to continue for a while.

  Sarah held her breath for a moment before answering, “Fine. Stay if you wish, but come in as soon as they get tired. I don’t want you making a nuisance of yourself.”

  Moira smiled at that, and Laura nodded in agreement. The two of them played for another couple of hours, while Gram and Chad both gave up and fell asleep. In all that time Moira never won a game, though she came close at one point when Sarah began to drowse.

  The other girl closed her eyes while Moira set up the pieces once more. When she finished she realized that Laura had fallen soundly asleep. Moira pushed the board aside and studied the other girl intently. Now that she had some quiet, she could devote herself to studying damage to Laura’s mind.

  The part of Laura’s brain that was responsible for speech in normal people was dark. At a physical level Moira could see that some of the tissue there had died, leaving a disconnect that prevented the girl from speaking, even though she could still understand others’ speech.

  She had no idea how to restore lost brain tissue, but being a Centyr she knew that wasn’t strictly necessary. The sentient intelligences she regularly created had no physical brain whatsoever, their minds were constructed from a web of pure aythar. It would be easy to create something similar and attach it to Laura’s mind. Her natural aythar would support it, and it could perform the necessary function of bridging the gap between Laura’s intentions and the motor centers that controlled her tongue and voice box.

  If I’m really careful, it s
houldn’t disturb anything else, thought Moira.

  Reaching out mentally she crossed the boundary of Laura’s mind. She felt slightly guilty, breaking the rule her mother had warned her about, but she knew it was for a good purpose. Deftly she constructed the necessary pattern to enable speech, and using the lightest of touches she connected it to Laura’s psyche, allowing it to bypass the areas that no longer worked. So gentle was her work that the other girl never even woke, although she did begin to babble in her sleep, but just for a moment.

  Moira withdrew and studied her handiwork. The patterns in Laura’s mind had shifted ever so slightly, but otherwise she seemed unchanged. Everything was still balanced and she doubted that the girl would notice a difference. She’ll be able to talk when she wakes. I wonder what she will think.

  She touched Laura’s shoulder, “It’s late. You should go to bed so your mother doesn’t worry.”

  Laura stirred, opening sleepy eyes, “Mmm, yeah.” The sound of her own voice startled her, and she sat up suddenly, staring at Moira in surprise. “What’s happening?” she said, with a note of alarm in her tone.

  “You can talk now,” stated Moira plainly.

  “What happened to your stutter?” asked Laura. She clapped one hand over her mouth in surprise. “I’m talking!” she added through her fingers.

  “Actually, I need to apologize,” explained Moira. “I was only pretending to stutter. We were afraid my accent would give away our origin, and we didn’t want to alarm your father.”

  “You don’t sound like him,” observed Laura, indicating Chad. The sound of her own voice continued to startle her, and her eyes began to water. “My voice!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it. I must be dreaming. Who are you?”

  “There isn’t much point in hiding it now,” said Moira. “I’m Moira Illeniel.”

  Laura stared at her in surprise, almost taking a step back, “You’re the Blood-Lord’s daughter?” She looked at Chad Grayson who had awoken and was quietly watching them talk. “He’s the Blood-Lord?!”

  Chad was irritated already by the fact that Moira had revealed her identity, but this new pronouncement made him groan, “Ahh, for fuck’s sake.”

  Moira was none too pleased herself at hearing the name ‘Blood-Lord’. It was an appellation that people had begun using for her father after he had slain Duke Tremont and his men in Albamarl. Technically it hadn’t even been her father who had done it, but no one believed that. “That’s not my father,” she corrected, “and I really don’t like the term ‘Blood-Lord’. My father is a good man, and he’s far too kind to deserve that name.”

  Laura’s thoughts were moving several times faster than her newly restored speech could keep up with, “But he…!” She was staring at Chad. “He’s not? But then, who is he? Why are you…? What have you done to me?!” She punctuated each question by clapping her hand over her mouth, only to remove it to ask the next one. It was almost comical.

  “I just made it so you could talk again,” said Moira simply. “I saw a way to help, and it didn’t feel right to do nothing.”

  “You’re a witch!”

  Moira winced at that remark. Most witches were simply older women with some knowledge about medicine and herbal lore. Some even possessed weak abilities to manipulate aythar, but in general they were just ordinary people who had been badly misunderstood. “I prefer ‘mage’, or ‘wizard’.”

  Laura was backing away now. “I don’t believe in demons. Doron protects us. You have no power over me!” Fear was written plainly in her features.

  “Stop, Laura,” said Moira. “I’m not a demon worshipper. I don’t think they even exist, unless you are talking about the dark gods.”

  Laura darted for the door suddenly, but Moira erected a quick shield over it to keep her from reaching the latch. The girl looked at her hand in horror when she discovered the unseen barrier. “Please, don’t hurt me!” she begged. “I never did anything to you.”

  “I warned ye not to reveal us,” commented Chad. “Now she’s goin’ ta make a terrible ruckus.”

  Laura’s eyes went wide, “Are you going to…? Please, I won’t tell anyone. Don’t hurt my parents!”

  Moira sighed, “This is ridiculous. Doron doesn’t even exist anymore.”

  The other girl’s face registered shock at that pronouncement, and her lip began to quiver. “That’s blasphemy,” she whispered to herself.

  “Yer not goin’ to get through to her,” remarked Chad. “An’ now we’re goin’ ta have to leave. Do somethin’ about her.”

  Laura’s mouth opened wide as she prepared to scream.

  “Shibal,” said Moira, sending the girl into a deep slumber. She caught Laura as her limp form began to fall and eased her awkwardly to the ground. “Now what?” she asked.

  “How long will she sleep for?” asked the ranger.

  “At least an hour or two,” said Moira, “probably a lot longer since she’s still tired.”

  “Put a little more juice in it, then an’ let’s go back to sleep. We’ll leave before dawn and let them sort it out after we’re gone.”

  “Why did she react like that?” asked Moira.

  “People in Dunbar don’t have much to do with Lothion. They get most of their news from folk in Gododdin. They don’t have a high opinion of magic. After what happened with Mal’goroth an’ his sacrifices there, they tend to take a dim view of wizards,” explained the older man.

  “But wizards had nothing to do with that,” argued Moira.

  “They don’t know that,” responded Chad. “Priests, wizards, an’ magic, they’re all the same to them. She was raised to believe that Doron is good, an’ that the people of Gododdin suffered because they turned away from the true gods. To them, there’s no difference between yer dad an’ Mal’goroth.”

  Moira’s mouth tightened. She didn’t like what she was hearing, but she couldn’t deny that Laura had reacted badly to learning her identity.

  Chad rolled over, pulling his blanket tight.

  “Are you just going to lie there?” she asked him.

  “Nah, I’m goin’ to sleep.” His eyes were already closed.

  She stared at him for several minutes before sitting back down. Gram’s soft snores became more noticeable as silence returned. He had never awoken at all, and now Chad showed every sign of being asleep as well.

  Eventually Moira lay down as well, but it seemed like hours before sleep found her. Her thoughts kept running in circles. When Chad woke her before dawn, it felt as though she hadn’t rested at all.

  Quietly they packed up their things and left, taking care not to wake the girl sleeping near the door. They found the dragons and resumed their journey, but Moira’s mind kept going back to the night before. She couldn’t get over the sight of Laura’s terrified face.

  Chapter 4

  The land began to gradually flatten out as it rolled by beneath them, slowly changing to a rolling plain covered with soft grasses and dotted by trees. There were a surprising number of farms to be seen. While the shiggreth and the war between Lothion and Gododdin had greatly reduced the population of Gododdin, and to some small extent Lothion, Dunbar had grown from an influx of refugees.

  Moira watched the scenery slide by, but her mind’s eye was turned inward, recalling an old conversation with the shade of her mother. “No one must ever know the true depths of the Centyr gift, otherwise you will have no peace. Men will fear you, and none will trust you,” Moira Centyr had told her.

  Laura had feared her for nothing more than her wizard parentage and that she had given her the gift of speech. If people feared magic that much, how much more would they hate her for being a Centyr mage? It isn’t fair, thought Moira, but she knew it was true. She had seen enough unshielded minds to understand that the differences between normal folk and the artificial sentiences she could create were purely technical. Last night had merely brought the lesson home to her in a more direct way.

  If you can change one, you can change the ot
her. That thought left her feeling alone, more alone than ever before.

  “What do you think we should do once we get to Halam?” asked Gram, yelling into her ear to be heard over the rushing wind. The words startled her from her dark reverie.

  She turned her head, leaning back to respond in kind, putting her mouth close to his ear, “Obviously we need to find the Earl of Berlagen, since that’s our only clue.” Without intending to, she found herself once more inhaling the smell of Gram’s hair. It was a comforting scent, masculine and familiar. She resisted a sudden impulse to press her face closer.

  “Well, yeah, I knew that,” he replied. “I meant, how do you think we should go about it? Are you going to present yourself to King Darogen?”

  Moira hadn’t really considered that option. “Don’t you know where Berlagen’s estate is located?” Why does he smell so good? She turned her head away so he could respond. And why am I thinking about that? I’m not interested in Gram. He’s like my brother. She suppressed a shiver when she felt his breath on her ear.

  “No, I just know it’s somewhere in western Dunbar. I don’t even know who the current earl is,” answered Gram.

  Moira was irritated with her strange reaction to Gram’s closeness, and she let it show in her voice, “I don’t really want to turn this into a formal visit until we know more about what’s going on.” Gram began to respond, but she waved him away when he leaned in. “We can talk after we land!” she told him.

  He is rather attractive, suggested Cassandra mentally, for a human.

  Moira blushed, she hadn’t realized she was broadcasting her thoughts. It isn’t like that, she responded silently. Are you eavesdropping on me somehow?

  No, replied Cassandra, but I can sense your feelings.

  There are no ‘feelings’, insisted Moira.

  Whatever you say, responded Cassandra demurely.

  Moira caught herself growling to herself before she made a conscious effort to stop. Cassandra simply didn’t understand. She and Gram had grown up together. They were more like siblings than anything else. Not to mention the fact that Gram had fallen in love with someone else. Tragic as his relationship with Alyssa had turned out to be, it was still someone else he was pining for.