Dreamwielder

by Garrett Calcaterra

  “No.”

  “Because of the prophecy. When Thedric Guderian was still a boy, he was exiled in the Old World and a mighty seer came upon him. This seer foretold that a sorcerer with great power and the blood of one of the Five Monarchs would be the downfall of Guderian. Guderian and Wulfram have known this from the start, and for decades now they have toiled to root out all magic. People already feared sorcerers from the time of the Dreamwielder War, but Guderian and Wulfram declared a secret war on those with power, especially women. It was Wulfram himself who skulked into the villages and cities of the Five Kingdoms and performed the atrocities the Emperor then blamed on the sorcerer guilds. And when the last of the guilds were destroyed, and the great sorcerers killed—including Trumball, whose cave we now inhabit—Guderian and Wulfram continued to wage their war, particularly against women with power. And women of royal blood of course. King Larimore sacrificed his own daughter, who had some minor ability as a beastcharmer so as to appease the Emperor. She was only five.

  “Certainly, plenty of male firewielders and beast charmers and stormwielders have been killed during the Emperor’s reign, but always the focus has been on finding women with the power to wield magic. Why is this the case, I have always wondered. Is it merely because men fear women, or is it something more?”

  Taera looked on at Roanna intently. “I don’t know.”

  “Nor do I for certain,” Roanna continued. “But I have my suspicions. Kadar does not share my belief, but could it be that there was more to the prophecy than we’ve heard? Possibly the mighty seer in Khail Sanctu foretold it would be a particular sort of sorcerer who would kill Guderian. Did you know, Taera, that it is dreamwielders who have always been the mightiest of sorcerers? Not firewielders or stormbringers. Dreamwielders. Of all the sorcerers, only dreamwielders use their power to create something rather than destroy it. And like with childbirth, only women are able to become dreamwielders. You did not know that, did you?”

  Taera could only shake her head.

  Roanna closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “Now you know why you are so important,” she said gravely. “Now you know why your work here is so important and why I must be stern with you. You are the one, Taera. We must delve into your powers and unleash your ability to wield dreams.”​

  Caile and Talitha rode at a trot on the road heading northeast to Ulmstadt. Earlier that morning, Talitha had bartered her wagon and swaybacked horse in the Arnsfeld marketplace for the two horses which they now rode. They were shaggy horses typical of the northern realms and barely worthy of being pack animals in Caile’s estimation, but they were nonetheless better suited to the impending cold weather and frozen terrain than Talitha’s wagon would have been. Caile, too, had done some bartering in Arnsfeld, exchanging his boot knife for a dinged up arming sword, a careworn bow, and a half dozen arrows. His knife was easily worth five times as much as all the other weapons combined, but Caile could hardly explain to the merchant that the knife had been forged by Pyrthinia’s royal armorer without arousing suspicion. As it was, he had no choice but to be content with the weapons and horses both. Talitha had been quick to remind him before leaving the inn that he was an outlaw now.

  The Barrier Mountains rose ahead of them in the distance and to the left of the road, beyond the Sargothian River, was the great evergreen forest of Norgland. Talitha surmised they had five days of travel to reach Ulmstadt, and there the high road ended and they would seek the long abandoned forest tract leading into the mountains and the caverns of Issborg.

  A few hours before noon, Talitha reigned her horse in and dismounted. “We’ve been pushing the horses hard enough for a while,” she said. “We’ll walk for a bit, then stop for a brief rest.”

  Caile dismounted and led his horse forward to walk beside her. “Do you think we’re being followed?” he asked, stealing a glance behind them.

  “It’s not likely. The Emperor has no reason to suspect you would go this way, and he does not even know of my existence. Or so I hope.”

  “What about Wulfram?”

  “He is probably the mightiest sorcerer to walk the earth, but he has no ability as a seer. The both of them will think you are making for Kal Pyrthin as you yourself had intended. And once we reach the caves we seek, we will be shielded against detection from the scent-hounds even should I be forced to use my power. No, I don’t think they will find us. We have more pressing foes to worry about for the time being.”

  They walked in silence for a while as Caile silently weighed her words. “That sorceress you fought,” he said after a time, “she told me there used to be guilds of sorcerers, but that the Emperor destroyed them. Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t understand, then. If we have a common enemy, why aren’t we allies? This sorcerer—Roanna—she has a whole underground following in Col Sargoth. They could help us. Why don’t you trust her? And for that matter, why didn’t she trust me? Why did she try to kill me?”

  “The answer lies in your last question, Caile,” Talitha replied. “Why did she try to kill you?”

  Caile threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

  Talitha smiled despite herself. “It’s because that is the way of the sorcerer’s guilds. Their only goal is to preserve themselves and gain power and influence over those without the ability to wield magic. If they had their way, they would lord over everything and everyone, and the Five Kingdoms would be no better off than they are now with the Emperor in charge. The Old World was plagued with the warring of such guilds. The mightiest of the guilds would put themselves in power, only to be overthrown by the next, and on and on, and the whole time the common people were left to suffer. That is why Sargoth Lightbringer left the Old World. He had seen the beauty of Tel Mathir. He saw the true role of the sorcerer as that of a guide in the ways of how we interact with nature, the mother of all things living and dead. Together with Vala, Pyrthin, Norg, and Golier, he crossed the Spine to create a new civilization, one that could live and prosper peacefully, in harmony with Tel Mathir.”

  “They couldn’t have all been that peaceful,” Caile remarked. “I’ve heard stories from tribesmen in the hills of Sevol, north of the Spine. They tell how the great chieftains of their ancestors were forced to bend their knee to the Five or be killed.”

  “You are more right than you know,” Talitha conceded. “It is a mistake great rulers have made since the dawn of time, believing they can use force and violence to enforce peace. I do believe the intent of the Five was well meant, but they nonetheless set the precedent for sorcerers to have domain over the Five Kingdoms. There was a long age of peace and prosperity, but with the passage of time, people became lazy and those with the power of sorcery abandoned the ways of Tel Mathir and formed into guilds to exert their power and control the Five Kingdoms. They grew greedy and contentious, and when Col Sargoth was laid siege by the treachery of Lon Golier at the start of the Dreamwielder War, the guilds broke the ancient pact the Five had made hundreds of years before: the pact to never use their powers in war unless attacked by a force from beyond the Five Kingdoms. The guilds openly fought with one another, sold their services to whichever monarch bid the highest, and gladly created the creatures of war you have no doubt heard of. Creatures like Wulfram, though he was created by Queen Guderian, not the guilds. The only sorcerer of strength who still held to the ways of Tel Mathir was Trumball, but alone he could not stem the tide.”

  Talitha stopped suddenly and turned away from Caile to gaze at the mountains before them. “I digress,” she said after a moment. “I did not mean to give you a history lesson. My point was, the guilds were just as much to blame for the Dreamwielder War as the Dark Queen, and they are nearly as much to blame for Guderian’s empire of terror as he is. This is why Roanna gave not a second thought to killing your brother. This is why she tried to kill you. She uses her powers for ill gains and does not know the ways of Tel Mathir. She cares only about h
erself and her guild, which is no more than a shadow of the guilds of old. This is not to say she can be taken lightly. She has much destructive power in her, and she is not alone I am afraid.”

  “You think there are more sorcerers?”

  “Yes. Roanna couldn’t have become as powerful as she is without a master. The sorcerers of old are all dead in the Five Kingdoms, except for Wulfram, and anyone born with power since the war has had to escape to the Old World to find someone willing to teach them. It is very likely Roanna has taken league with just such a sorcerer. The sorcerers from the Old World are always looking to escape the constraints of their own lands.”

  Caile felt his stomach knot at the thought of having to face multiple sorcerers. He had come along expecting that Talitha would deal with Roanna and that he was there merely to help with any of her ruffians like Stephen. “If it comes down to it, can I even kill a sorcerer?” Caile asked. “I mean, would I even have a chance armed only with a sword?”

  Talitha shrugged. “We are still human. You can catch us unawares or surprise us as you could any else. It is very difficult though. A well-trained sorcerer uses more than her eyes and ears to sense out danger, and she can strike quickly, whether it be with fire, wind, animals, or something else. Your best bet is to do the unexpected.”

  Caile nodded, remembering how Lorentz had snuck up behind the firewielder back in Pyrthinia and killed her with a bow and arrow. “Well, I always manage to surprise Lorentz, so perhaps I can surprise a couple sorcerers,” Caile put in, though he was not so sure himself. “Still, I’d prefer it if there were only one.”

  “As would I,” Talitha agreed.

  22

  Allies Forged

  Parmo casually came to a halt in the teeming central market of Kal Pyrthin and examined a basket of olives at one of the plethora of produce stands filling the massive marketplace. Or he pretended to at least. In his peripheral vision he watched the man who had been walking behind him for the last several minutes, a man wearing the colors and insignia of Sargoth. Parmo hoped he had not aroused enough suspicion to be followed, but still it was best to be cautious. Since arriving in Kal Pyrthin two days prior, he had busied his days chasing down rumors of the flying airship, and while he had tracked down dozens of witnesses who had seen the ship heading out to sea, no one had seen the airship return. The ship had either made landfall farther to the north or skirted south and gone to Valaróz. It was impossible to say which.

  While Parmo had been discreet in his inquiries, he could not be certain that the Emperor’s men weren’t watching him. It was very possible they too were looking for the airship. Parmo had initially assumed the airship belonged to Emperor Guderian, but that was not necessarily the case. From the rumors Parmo had picked up on, the Emperor’s men were questioning people and trying to track down the Princess Taera, too. And then there was the matter of Parmo’s cohorts—the two men he had rescued. After learning that King Casstian had been imprisoned, Rufous and Gaetan had surreptitiously entered the city along with Parmo when they arrived in port. If it were widely known that they were survivors of Pyrthin’s Flame there was no doubt that the three of them would be taken prisoner. The new regent—the houndkeeper—was ruling the city and ostensibly the kingdom now, and he had not been shy about throwing dissenters into the dungeon or simply executing them. That was why Parmo was so wary: Rufous and Gaetan were more than mere dissenters. The two seamen had been rounding up as many allies as they could find among the military and administrative ranks of King Casstian’s government. Rebellion was in the works.

  Parmo sniffed at the olives in his hand, then tossed them back into their basket as the man he had been watching walked obliviously on into the center of the market and was lost in the crowd of people. The Emperor’s agent either wasn’t following Parmo in the first place, or he was sloppy and had lost track of Parmo. In either case, Parmo turned in the opposite direction and headed for The Herdsman, the inn where he rented a room along with Gaetan and Rufous.

  Outside the central market, the streets were decidedly less crowded at this late morning hour. The trouble brewing in the city seemed to have scared most people into staying home and out of sight unless they had business to attend to, especially since rumors had spread of Wulfram burning old women and girls alive in Castle Pyrthin. Parmo saw no more than a half dozen people on the side streets, and he arrived at the dilapidated harborside inn only a few short minutes later. He found Rufous drinking an ale all by himself inside the nearly empty common room.

  “Parmo!” Rufous hailed from where he sat at a lopsided table.

  Parmo joined him and waved for the bar maid to bring him a stein of ale.

  “Any luck?” Rufous asked.

  “More of the same. Plenty of people saw the airship head out after us, but no one saw her return. She could be anywhere now. How about yourself? How goes your… business venture?”

  “The venture goes well,” Rufous replied. “We’ve recruited several more partners, so to speak. The question now is not whether we have enough partners but what our plan is. Everyone has their own ideas, and all of them seem lacking.”

  “You’re the one bringing everyone together.”

  Rufous rolled his eyes noncommittally. “I’ll be honest with you, Parmo. I know how to sail a ship. I can command a crew of sailors when it comes to skirting a reef or storming an enemy vessel. But this business—it’s a bit beyond my area of expertise.”

  The bar maid arrived with Parmo’s ale, and both of them went silent until she left and went back to her business.

  “The key is to delegate,” Parmo said, pausing to quaff deeply from his stein. “You needn’t know everything. All you have to do is get the right people involved and coordinate it so that everyone carries out their plan at the exact right time.”

  “Coordinating isn’t my strong suit,” Rufous admitted. “I was a supply sergeant once, for Pyrthinia’s old flagship. It didn’t last very long. I tried to feed a hundred sailors with four loaves of bread and five gallons of water. Numbers and schedules don’t agree with me.”

  Parmo laughed. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

  “Damned close,” Rufous replied. He took a swig from his tankard and turned to Parmo, the humor gone from his features. “Perhaps you could meet with the men. You know, see what they have to say. You’ve got a good head on you. You don’t seem to get riled up like the rest of us. Passion and fury are well and good in the heat of battle, but they’re not worth a damn when it comes to strategy.”

  “I wish I could help, but I have to find my granddaughter.”

  “You said yourself you have no idea where she is,” Rufous pointed out. “She’s with the princess, and the best thing you can do right now is help us free the King. He loves that girl of his, and he’ll go to all ends of the world to find her. Find the princess and you’ll find your granddaughter.”

  Parmo pursed his lips. As much as he hated to admit it, Rufous was right. Parmo was at a dead end. He could pick a direction at random and try to track down the airship, but the chances of actually finding it on his own were slim. On the other hand, if he successfully helped free King Casstian, they would have infinitely more resources at their disposal. The thought of Makarria alone—captured by an unknown assailant—pained Parmo, but there was nothing he could do about it. Running around blindly wasn’t going to help either of them. Here, in Kal Pyrthin, he could be of help. Be strong, Makarria. Be strong.

  Makarria sifted through the crumbling rock in her hand as the men at the end of the tunnel continued digging with their picks. “It just looks like normal rock to me,” she remarked to Siegbjorn.

  “It looks to be normal rock to me also, but the miners know what they are doing. The veins of the magnesite are many here in the caverns, I am told. Our people find it, they dig it out, then Roanna mixes it with the other ingredients to make the peat. It burns much longer than any wood we can gather in the valley.”

  Makarria tossed the rubble in her hand b
ack into the wheel cart and shrugged. The whole mining operation was much less intriguing than she had hoped. It amounted to little more than a bunch of big, hairy men digging long tunnels and carrying out cartfuls of boring looking rocks and sand. Still, it was better than sitting locked in her chamber. It had taken some doing on Makarria’s part to convince Siegbjorn to take her to Issborg again. Siegbjorn had been commanded to keep the airship grounded, and when Siegbjorn had nothing to do Makarria was relegated to sitting in her chamber day in and day out. As uninteresting as the mines were, visiting them was better than her alternative.

  “Come along,” Siegbjorn said, sensing Makarria’s restlessness and leading the way back down the narrow mining tunnel toward Issborg with his lamp held out in front of him.

  “Are there any fish in that lake next to your city?” Makarria asked.

  “There are a few pale creatures in those waters but nothing you would be able to catch. Certainly not any creatures you would want to eat.”

  “Maybe we can go to the lake outside then?”

  “The day is nearly gone,” he told her.

  “Tomorrow then?”

  Siegbjorn shook his head. “I am sorry. Tomorrow I will be gone. I am to leave on the airship tonight.”

  Makarria felt hope surge up inside her. “Where are you going? Can I go with you?”

  “No,” Siegbjorn said, again shaking his head forlornly.

  “But I’m your first mate.”

  “Yes, I wish it was so. But Kadar himself has made it very clear to me: you are to stay with the princess. She is not having an easy time. She needs you. I risk much by taking you way for even a few hours as I do today.”