Striking Chains

by Kris Schnee

  Dominic gaped at the Servant's efficient, matter-of-fact speech. "After all that, you're healing both sides?"

  The Servant turned his head slightly toward Dominic, letting him see the edge of the darkness behind the mask. "There is only one 'side', boy. We are all working together for the Holy State. Problems happen, and we correct them. Does anyone here have other troubles that need my attention?"

  Somehow, no one did.

  The masked man let Citizens guard him with crossbows while he worked. His gloved hands moved over the spear-wounds, spreading vines of light around torn flesh so that bones began to knit and flesh to stretch back into shape. Dominic had seen visiting Servants and occasionally a Citizen perform this sort of healing before, though without seeing the light that drove it. Again blood from the wounds tended to flow in tendrils that matched the spell-weave. Dominic thought back to the life he'd ended, in justice's name and to save himself from immediate death. Why had that fool tried to kill him? To kill him, a stranger who hadn't done anything? Dominic shuddered, knowing his own feelings were ridiculous and wrong. He was serving the State and bandits needed to be put down. Still, the unnatural flow of red and green in the air... had he done that?

  "We can withdraw," said Antoine. The men kept apart, each to his own thoughts. At the other Citizens' direction, a group went into the manor-house and brought out armloads of finery. Dominic's eyes widened.

  The Servant unlocked a storage chest from the pile; he didn't bother asking for the key. He pulled out strings of pearls and a fur coat. He threw both to the ground, rummaged more, and stood up with a pretty necklace glinting in the sunlight, clenched tightly in one fist. He shouted at the villagers. "Do you see these things? These trinkets are your lives, your blood, stolen from you. Why didn't your masters sell them before moaning about a lack of coins and crops?" The silver chain glittered in the afternoon sun, with the triple-triangle design of the Holy State. "At least these things will pay your taxes, for now. Rebuild as well as you can."

  The loyal Citizens shifted uncomfortably. A few wore bits of jewelry themselves.

  One of the local Bound spoke up, averting his eyes from the Servant's mask. "Sir, who will give orders while we wait for new Citizens?"

  The Servant turned to Antoine and company. "One of you, if you please, until someone else can be permanently assigned. Volunteers?" One of the Citizens' sons looked to his father, got a nod, and raised his hand.

  The Servant said, "All right: you." He handed over a gold ring and a pearl necklace from the recovered hoard. "Sell these for food. Eat nothing finer than your Bound do. A trader will be along soon. Tell him the village is recovering from disaster and a fair price is... expected."

  The Servant packed the other hoarded wealth onto his horse and a second, now ownerless mare. He told Antoine, "Now you may withdraw, sir. Except for this boy. He comes with me."

  The wind froze on Dominic's skin. "Sir?" He turned from the Servant toward Antoine, who looked as startled as himself.

  The Servant's brass mask caught the sunlight and shined too brightly to stare at. "You have the talent for using magic, boy. Therefore you may no longer live among the Bound. If you please, you will follow me for training. You will be a Citizen or perhaps even a Servant, should you humble yourself so far." He reached into his robe and counted out a handful of silver coins, which he offered to Antoine. "He's one of yours. Payment for him -- Dominic, yes? -- and the finder's fee."

  Antoine paled. "Put it toward their taxes."

  "That's the spirit!" the Servant said, with the first hint of warmth Dominic had heard through those slits in brass. "Your civic-mindedness is noted. Come, young Dominic. We have much to discuss."

  Dominic looked over the devastated village, where the leaders were dead, the town square an open wound, the roofs collapsed. The fields hadn't gotten any healthier today, and now there were fewer people to tend them. What sort of victory was this? "I killed a man," he said to no one.

  The masked man said, "By doing so, did you serve the State?"

  He felt people watching. "Yes." The sight of this town made him think of his own village, and how little he knew the people he'd fought beside today. There was nothing for him back home, especially if the next harvest might lead to the same kind of disaster.

  His Citizen clapped him on the shoulder and looked him in the eye. "You did well today. Fight with word and blade, and you'll go far."

  Dominic looked between the Servant and Antoine, between the unknown and deadly realm of magic and the familiar fields a short march from home. "Do I have to go?"

  The Servant peered at him. "The other option is to pretend your little spell-outburst never happened. You may look at the Weave, but as a Bound, touching it again will mean a slow death for you."

  He hardly even understood the transaction between the Servant and Antoine. Coins were for taxes and supply caravans. He supposed he'd just been bought. There was so much he'd failed to know and learn so far: the strangeness of the Servant, the villagers' willingness to defy the State, and the power he'd found in himself to kill. He feared not knowing, more than he feared learning. Some part of him was eager to see what was beyond the town he knew, and where these frightening mysteries came from.

  "I should go with you," he told the Servant.

  2. Seaflower

  Dominic walked behind the Servant's treasure-loaded horses, feeling alone. The murmur of his fellow Bound had faded away in the distance, along with the only chance to find his way home.

  "You may call me Jasper," the Servant said after an hour of walking.

  "You have names?" Usually Servants were a force that strode into town, took action, and left people cheered in their wake. Or dead. "And faces?"

  A low chuckle. "I was like you, once. Some of my recruits are too timid to ask."

  Dominic was sore from marching. He imagined, too, that if he didn't show strength here, the man would devour him into the darkness behind the mask. "Then, there's something else I want to know. How do you ride? Am I allowed to learn that?"

  Jasper stopped to give him a brief lesson. Dominic learned enough that he could follow along and not fall off. He'd imagined horses as extensions of their riders, since everyone he'd seen atop one seemed to have clear mastery in all but the worst moments. But the muscular grey beast under Dominic was its own living creature, with its own will. Even though that will was mainly to stop and eat grass, the boy struggled to stay put in the saddle.

  "Sir? You were Bound once?"

  "Of course. Those with the gift for magic must either take a Citizen's brand and serve the navy and army for a while; or if they're good enough, take the mask and serve the State as a whole. I haven't decided which fate is yours, yet."

  "Do I choose?"

  "Presumptuous of a Bound to ask for choices in life."

  "Sir... Did you see me kill that man?"

  "I was busy at the time, so no. But I did notice someone cast a crude spell from within the pit. That was you, yes?"

  "It was. I don't know how." It'd been stupid luck and he had no idea how to repeat it. Nor much desire to use magic the same way again.

  "An emergency is sometimes how people learn. We don't do enough to bring out that instinct in people."

  They rode quietly. At sunset, Jasper called a halt and dismounted. "We'll reach Seaflower in two days."

  "Seaflower!" Dominic pulled on his reins, startled, and barely kept atop his horse. The Citizens spoke of it as a mighty city with thousands and thousands of people. "That's where Servants come from?"

  "The city is one of several. Your education will begin there. We Servants are only inspectors in that place, and a nuisance in some people's eyes. Help me with this tent."

  Dominic unrolled the cloth tent, and Jasper raised his hands. The fabric flicked into the air and held in place while the Servant staked the corners.

  "Will you teach me to do that?"

  "Hmm... Not yet. For now, focus on learning to see the Weave. You must have notic
ed it earlier as more than a vague glow."

  Jasper explained a certain mindset, like squinting or chanting silently, that made it easier to see the whorls of grassy light. The Weave wound between every tuft of grass like a wreath or like sheaves of grain, and outlined the flesh of their horses and their own bodies. Now that the sun was at his back, Dominic realized that he was seeing more by this hidden light than by the sky's. It was everywhere along the earth. Sparks of it danced just above the ground and drifted higher like fireflies. He said, "I don't think I can ever get lost in the dark again."

  "It's easier than you'd think. What do you know of we Servants? Do you think I ever remove this mask, for instance?"

  "You must, sir. Or you'd have a filthy face."

  The man laughed for the first time, sounding faintly like a bell through the brass. "Indeed, it does get sweaty." A few minutes later he brought his horse to a halt. He hopped down, stretched, and took off his mask. Underneath he was only a man, etched by age, with the suggestion of the mask's edges joining natural wrinkles. Silver crept through his flamelike hair.

  He caught Dominic staring. Dominic stammered an apology, then said, "Why do Servants wear masks at all?"

  Jasper held his badge of office over his face again, so that he looked out through pitiless slits. Red sunlight caught the brass and gave him the look of an unimpressed, burning ghost. "Persuasion. The machinery of the Baccata Holy State is something you must learn about, no matter where on the wheel of castes you stand. As a changer of castes, you'll have the chance to see it from two perspectives."

  He left Dominic outside with a thin blanket, and retreated to his tent. Dominic lay on his back and tried to sleep. Jasper seemed to be murmuring to himself, maybe praying. He was just a few paces away, yet beyond anything that Dominic understood.

  * * *

  Jasper explained little to Dominic over the next day's riding, so that Dominic let his mind wander and explore the Weave. "It seems to have a direction, like a stream."

  "You noticed? Yes, Seaflower is a natural node. To put it simply, the Weave has currents like wind or streams, and there are places where it gathers. We'll only be passing through on our way to the capital, a much greater focal point. While you're in town, I expect you to learn. What else do you observe?"

  "Hills?" The ground had gradually become a worn trail heading east, and had risen up on either side of them into steep mounds of grass and trees. Soon they'd been forced to detour north and south around oddly placed lines of them. "They look like walls."

  "These are the Flower Walls, made by men. Even a powerful mage would have trouble tearing up such a mass of dirt and roots, and they're cheaper and more numerous than stone walls." An actual tower stood in the distance with a triad flag.

  The sun hung low behind the travelers. Jasper said, "We'll stop here for tonight. Tomorrow, you will learn."

  Jasper quizzed him over a dinner of hard bread and cheese. "What have you learned so far?" He'd said little today beyond "Observe."

  Dominic sat on the grass, near their campfire. "We passed another village today. Number Sixteen, I think. There was an orange grove." He thought of the traders who'd brought the rare treats from "distant lands". "The soil was dry there too. There's been a lot of dust in the air as we travel. And... I saw a few foxes and birds."

  Jasper said, "You think like a Bound, so far. You'll need to be an observer of men as well as things. Better than some I've seen who are aware of neither. What did you make of the people we saw?"

  Dominic shrugged. "That trade wagon that passed us looked like it would stop at my... my former village. There was a Citizen driving it, which I guess is unusual. Normally the Citizen is the one relaxing in the shade of the wagon, not steering the horses. The farmers looked all about the same as I've ever seen."

  A noncommittal grunt. "And what of myself, the man who's been in view all day?"

  The boy looked away from Jasper at the world the man was taking him through. "I'm not unique. I've heard of people being taken away, before, so that must be something that Servants do regularly. Find people with what you called the... the gift." He gulped. "You don't see magic as unclean, as frightening."

  "Fear of magic is an appropriate attitude for Bound to have. Is it good or evil?"

  "I've seen it serve the State, when you used it, and oppose the State, when the bandits collapsed their own ground. So, neither good nor evil?"

  "Indeed," said Jasper. "It's a neutral force. Enemies of the State use it too. My role is to see that magic and all other powers are bent in the correct direction."

  He went into his tent, rummaged, and returned with a glittering brass chain that carried a wooden amulet. "Wear this tomorrow to keep you from being identified as a missing Bound. The results of that would be unpleasant. You'll want to carry a note from me as well. You don't know how to read yet, do you? If you've learned in secret, it's safe now to admit it."

  Dominic shook his head. Reading was another thing that the Bound didn't need. They had Citizens to do that work for them. Now, though, he felt that there was harm in not knowing. It was no longer forbidden to learn things. "I don't."

  "Unsurprising."

  "I need to read and write as a Citizen or a Servant, then?"

  "To some extent if you become a Citizen, yes, and definitely in my role. Why do you suppose that is?"

  Dominic thought of how rarely Servants had come to his village. "There can't be enough of you to visit every place, every day, but it all needs to be controlled. I've seen Citizens get letters using riders who aren't Servants. Someone must be writing them. For Citizens who're on ships or running the army, they need a way to speak. I doubt they can shout very far even with magic."

  "Not for lack of trying," Jasper said. "That's a good enough answer. If you do take the mask, you'll need to set our tongue, Baccatan, to paper. You should also speak a bit of Mithraic or Waldic if you must deal with the barbarians. For tomorrow and the next few days, though, I will be too busy to instruct you." He looked into his money pouch, then poured a measured handful of coins into another pouch and handed it to Dominic.

  Dominic looked into the bag and gaped. Bright copper coins shined in the firelight, and... was that silver? He took one of the silver coins out and turned it back and forth in his fingers. One side held tiny words, and the other, three triangles arranged side-to-side like a trapezoid or a bow. It was the same mark as a brand. Coins were another thing not meant for the Bound. It was Citizens' job to provide them with everything their laborers needed, so why should the Bound even touch money? The silver looked pure and bright in Dominic's hand. "Sir, what is this for?"

  "A test. Go into the city and observe. Learn. Spend it how you wish. Ask me no more questions about that, and meet me at the sign of the Lynx's Den at sunset in three days."

  Dominic sputtered. Not just having money, but deciding how to use it? Actually going into the vast city? He asked the largest question, provoked by the sheer insanity of being left alone without instructions. "But what should I do?"

  Servant Jasper laughed at him. "No more questions. Rest tonight, and serve tomorrow."

  Dominic was about to turn away, but paused. "Sir? I have a different question. I haven't seen all that Servants can do, have I?"

  "I was showing restraint, yes. The work my kind does..." Jasper showed no clue to the mood behind his mask. "What justifies it?"

  "You're the Servants. It's your job to enforce order. Right?"

  "Hmm. Good night."

  * * *

  Dominic woke up the next morning to find the tent and horses gone, with no further orders. The man had abandoned him! "Serve?!" Dominic saw only a wrapped hunk of bread and cheese waiting for him, plus the amulet and money pouch he'd been given. "How am I supposed to know what to do without being told?"

  Stop thinking like one of the Bound, Jasper had told him. Dominic covered his face with one hand and pointed at the empty air, mockingly saying "I'll have you all killed! Serve and obey!" Then he sighed. At
least he had the mission to find some inn in three days, and the amulet to mark him as something other than a missing Bound, and the traveling papers to show to anyone who questioned him. He patted his clothes.

  "Oh, you brazen bastard!" Dominic looked in the direction of the hoofprints. "You didn't just 'forget' to give me the papers, did you?" It was part of the test.

  Well. There'd be more people in the city, making it easier to blend in, and he did have the necklace. He felt the brass chain around his neck and peered at the wooden triple-triad design hanging from it. It took him a few tries to slip into the right frame of mind to see the Weave, but the thing clearly had a complicated, glowing knot design worked into it. Must have been as good as a signature. And at worst, the Servant would be there at the inn before long... Probably.

  The rutted road carried him on foot past more fields and orchards. The dirt walls, overgrown with roots and trees, sometimes crossed his path and made him detour through the morning shadows they cast. At one point he passed through a tunnel formed by hedges so dense they grew overhead, entwined with flowers. He paused there to admire the Weave and how it flowed around and within the plants. There was artistry to it that he couldn't even have seen before.

  He passed rolling wagons and work teams of Bound with their Citizen owners supervising. At first he tried to flatten himself against the tall hedge-rows to get out of the travelers' view, but no one seemed to care.

  The tallest wall he'd ever seen, this one made of stone mixed with the dirt and roots, loomed over Dominic. At least four times his height! Every rock must have been cut and placed at enormous cost in labor. Bound labor. People thronged the street on the other side, past a pair of guards with spears. Dominic stepped warily up to them, trying to look like he knew what he was doing, and held out the amulet.