Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1)

by Richard Cluff

  “Are you Mr. Tangarth, and Riks?” He asked directly. The man was between the size of Thorel and Nigel but moved easily in the heavy armor as if it were made of cloth.

  “Yes, sir,” they replied together.

  “I am Soldier Gwin Lother; it is my duty to escort you. Please come with me, gentlemen,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir,” Thorel said.

  “Of course. This way, please.” He gestured them forward.

  They walked with the guardsman through the room, past the grieving family and friends of those who had died. There were more than two-hundred people here. There were weeping women, young children, and men that embraced in a brotherly manner. There were others who wore a mask of anger. Dothranan guards with spears were spaced at five-yard intervals along the walls.

  All except the children wore fine clothing in various cuts and colors. It was similar to what Thorel and Nigel had been given to wear, but theirs did not bear the sigil of House Dothranan as the Holders clothing did.

  Thorel could see that some of them had spirits attached to them just as he did. There was no obvious link between them and their spirits just as there was none between him and his father. He wondered if they were Wizards too.

  The guardsman led them to a table that was raised by the carpeted stone floor. They walked up three steps, to the great table there. Places were set with small cards that had their names, as well as a plate and eating utensils. They were at the far end of the twenty seat table.

  Eight other people were already seated at the great table. Many of them were reading papers or conversing with their neighbor. They pulled their marked chairs out and sat.

  “The Mistress enters!” Several guards called out loudly together.

  The conversations died as holders and guests stood, placing their hand on their heart and bowing. Thorel followed their example, respectfully. He elbowed Nigel, who squeaked and followed suit.

  The Great Lady Ari Dothranan entered the room from the back of the great table. She wore a long-sleeved black silken dress with a high collar. The sigil of her House was embroidered in red above her left breast. Her sleeves and skirt ended with black lace, and she wore matching silk stockings that covered her legs. Now he knew what she had been wearing under her coat. She was striking. He looked away when the spirit woman's gaze looked back at him though.

  Siri and four new, dry guards walked with her. Siri carried her case with some papers on it. She held an oddly marked stone on top of it.

  Ari spoke into the silence, “My holders, I am sorry, but we must delay for a moment before we begin this feast to honor those who have fallen.”

  There was a questioning murmur in the crowd.

  Siri sat and spoke too softly into the stone to be heard by Thorel.

  Ari walked down the steps between the table and the holders. Two of her guards followed, and the other two took position behind Siri's seat.

  Guards walked in from the double door that led directly to Ari, each leading people with bandages over their eyes. Thirty-six all counted. Some wore slave collars, others the fine coats of sworn holders. These slaves were not as pretty as the ones they had walked here with. These looked like very hard working men with tight, hard muscles showing with their simple sleeveless tunics.

  Ari placed her fingers on each side of the first man's eyes; it was one of the Holders. “Do not move. There is nothing to fear,” she said firmly.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he said obediently.

  Thorel watched with fascination as a bit of one of her spirit's power seemed to move through Mistress Dothranan and into the man's ruined eyes. He could see the power changing form, and then it was gone.

  She pulled the bandage off of his eyes, and he blinked at the light.

  “OH THANK YOU MISTRESS!” He cried, tears flowing from his healed eyes.

  The crowd gasped in amazement, which abruptly changed to a cheer. Most of the Holders present added their voices to it.

  Ari raised a hand for silence. “Join us. There is room,” she said gesturing to the tables where the Holders stood.

  The Great Lady healed the thirty-five other men and women as well. Slaves were guided out the opposite door, and Holders were taking places at the tables. Many tearful thanks were given from holders and slaves alike. He could see the spirit she drew on was now dimmer than it was when she began.

  “The slaves who lost family are having a feast to honor their own. Even though they are the lowest of my servants, I will still honor those who were lost,” Ari said. Thorel recalled then: if a person's mother is a slave, they are also a slave. He knew the law, but the full implications of it had never registered before now.

  “Chief Engineer of the east water house, step forward,” she commanded.

  One of the women at the great table stood and walked around to stand beside her. She was unremarkable in appearance, and wore the same fine coat and pants of most of the male holders, and had her hair tied into a simple tail.

  “This woman made certain, at my command that there were not many more grieving families here today. She executed the evacuation of the east water house perfectly at my order. Not one person was injured,” Ari acknowledged.

  Many in the crowd cheered her. The Chief Engineer bowed to them, then returned to her seat.

  One of the angry people Thorel had seen stepped forward from the crowd and spat out: “Mistress, may I speak?”

  Mistress Dothranan nodded her acquiescence at the unshaven man. His eyes were red and puffy; he looked as if he hadn’t slept well if he had slept at all.

  “Mistress, my brother was killed at the central water house. But he was killed by your Magik Milady, not enemy action,” he ground out with a barely controlled grieving rage.

  “How many others are here who lost someone in the central water house? A show of hands,” nearly forty hands reached up.

  “The Detonation stone had activated; I saw it with my Wizards sight. If you have not seen the damage to the east water house, you should. I did the only thing I could to prevent another two-hundred families from being here tonight. He would have been killed had the stone detonated, and your anger would be placed properly. The person who placed the stone, and the person who ordered it placed killed your brother, not I,” she said with a cold certainty.

  The grieving man's face softened, and tears rolled out. “My apologies, Mistress.”

  “Do not apologize for your anger. I am enraged by this attack and intend to find the cowards that did this to us,” she looked around the room at her holders.

  “I will take the death tolls paid to all of you today out of their coffers, and take the bloodshed out of their veins. I will then give High Lord Vallad a head – this I swear to you all,” she stated coldly composed.

  The entire room erupted in the cry for vengeance.

  Thorel and Nigel were stunned. This woman had a powerful, imposing presence, but spoke quietly. She didn't have to raise her voice. People quieted for her, automatically. She spoke in a confident logical manner, even when confronted by rage.

  Her tone did not vary, even when she'd said she was going to gift the High Lord a head. It was so certain the way she had said it; it was as if it had already been accomplished. It was a bit disturbing.

  But they were moved by the power and care they saw her demonstrate. Men and women had been blinded somehow but healed by her hand.

  Thorel had never known Magik could do such a thing. He was truly excited by the prospect of learning now, where he had been foolishly fearful before due to his Mother's lies.

  He was still extremely angry with her, but he decided he would not choke her. But she was going to explain herself to him. That would not be an enjoyable conversation he knew.

  “Now let us eat and toast the lives of those who have passed to spirit,” Ari said.

  The gathered people spoke their agreement though many were still tearful.

  Another set of doors opened, and the attractive slaves they had walked with began carryin
g out meal courses. The great table was seen to first, with over a dozen dishes laid out.

  Ari walked around the table after waiting for the slaves to finish laying out the food and drink. Thorel thought she looked annoyed at the delay. Shouldn't they wait for her? Thorel thought.

  The two guards behind Siri pulled stones from a pouch on their hips. The stones had a glowing green rune that they passed over all the food and drink.

  They nodded to the Mistress, who then sat and began filling her plate. Dishes and plates were passed by people to others, as well as the flagons of wine.

  The Great Lady's plate was never passed though. When she wanted something on the other end of the table, one of her guards took her plate there to get it. When it returned, Thorel saw her pass her hand over it. Thorel could see a tiny amount of Magik she used to probe it. He wondered what it was, with rising curiosity.

  “This is good,” Nigel said with an appreciative look at the food.

  “It is. I think you are going to be hard pressed to compete,” Thorel replied, pulling his thoughts away from Magik for the moment.

  “I have a few good recipes,” Nigel said confidently.

  After a time, the Mistress finished her meal and stood. She waited for the gathering to quiet and spoke: “I must take my leave, and meet with my guild masters. Enjoy the hospitality, and celebrate the lives of the fallen. They would not wish to see your tears.”

  The gathered people raised their glasses to her, called out thank yous, and good wishes. Several of the others at the great table also stood. They took their leave following the Mistress through the guarded door behind the great table.

  Siri walked over to them and addressed the guardsman with them. “Mr. Lother, see that these men are provided a guest room by household staff. I will inform the watch officer of your duty.”

  “Very well, ma'am,” he said with a salute.

  “I thought we'd be leaving after this,” Nigel said.

  “You are free to. The Mistress had planned on trying a meal you made, but it can be any day you wish. But Mr. Tangarth must remain. The Mistress wishes to see you promptly at the twelfth hour tomorrow,” Siri stated.

  “Of course, ma'am,” Thorel said.

  “Have a good evening, gentlemen,” Siri nodded and ran out quickly on her bare feet.

  “How can she run around in bare feet on this cold stone?” Nigel asked.

  “Beats me,” Lother said. “But I wouldn't make fun of it. That woman used to be an instructor at the Legion Officers Academy in Corwinthius.”

  “You'd break her in half, man!” Nigel said, looking at him.

  “No. Even with arms and armor, and her with none, she would likely take my sword away and shove it straight up my ass,” Lother with a deadly serious look in his eyes.

  Thorel sputtered on his wine, equally shocked at what he had said and how he had said it.

  “Sorry sir,” Lother said and resumed being watchful as if he'd said nothing at all.

  * * *

  Ari floated with her chin in her fists, her elbows on the side of the bath basin watching Siri in the other bath basin writing quickly.

  The Guild master's meeting had little good to report. It would be thirty days minimum until a new boiler and pump could be cast for the east water house. The cost of the restoration would be equal to half of the death tolls she had paid today. The guild of water workers were re-routing the flows, but it would be a close thing. The reservoirs would be nearly drained before the new pump was running. The Manor's water flow was being cut to the east water house to stop the light flooding that had begun after the explosion.

  The heavy rain had been an unexpected blessing to their crops though. With as hot as it had been, without that small blessing she may have lost several fields of grapes. They may still lose a lot of them though, depending on how effective the emergency measures the guild of agriculture outlined would be.

  In two days, the guild of water would have water flowing to the east side of her hold. The cleanup of the damage will take seven days minimum, according to the guild of labor. The loss of the distillery and granaries were heavy blows though. The guild of wine production recommended they increase the price slightly so that there will be no shortfall in the next decade.

  Logical. If the price is increased, less will buy, ensuring the supply is consistent, and there is no drastic drop in income. She would study this further.

  The granary will be more difficult to overcome. She will have to import grains this year. The thought sickened her. Other houses will note this weakness with pleasure. They will certainly take a more aggressive stance, and likely increase their prices.

  “Siri, have any houses increased the price of grain lately?” Ari asked distractedly, splashing her feet in the water. “That was a great speech by the way. The angry man was quite convincing.”

  “Thank you, Mistress,” Siri said in a similarly distracted manner, still writing. “Joshen has made a great deal of progress in his writing. I only made two changes. The angry man was convincing because Mr. Kerik's brother was killed in the central water house. But he was happy to assist after I explained the situation to him.”

  “As to the price of grain, I will speak to the guild master of trade to learn this for you,” Siri replied.

  “I need to know now,” Ari said.

  “Of course,” Siri replied. She set her wooden case down and pulled one of the marked stones from within it.

  Siri spoke. “I need to speak with the guild master of trade now,” she said into the stone.

  “Ma'am, with respect, he did order that he was not to be disturbed. He has company,” the thin male voice replied.

  “I will speak with him now, or a guard detachment will arrive to see to your discipline, and his rude interruption. The Mistress has commanded it,” Siri's tone changed to one of authority.

  Ari smiled. Siri knew how to deal with her subordinates easily.

  “Very well, ma'am. One moment, please,” the thin voice said nervously.

  It was nearly five minutes, but an irritated man's voice came through the stone.

  “Siri, I am happy to serve the Mistress, but I will ask after this interruption,” the thin older voice said with some bite.

  Ari just nodded to Siri, and she deftly sent the stone skidding across the floor to her.

  Ari caught it and said: “Have any houses increased their grain prices lately? Over the last month?”

  “Mistress! I, well... give me a moment to make certain I am thorough,” the thin voice replied with deference.

  “Of course,” she replied.

  “I doubt he'll be asking after anything now, Mistress,” Siri said with a laugh.

  Ari smiled at her humor. Siri was the only person who truly amused her.

  A few minutes passed, and he said: “Yes Mistress. House Vorn, House Lodor, and House Quarrel Milady.”

  “Thank you,” Ari said and skidded the stone back to Siri.

  “Of course, Mistress,” came from the skidding stone.

  Siri replaced the stone in her case with the others.

  “Now we know who. But we need evidence,” Ari said seriously.

  “Indeed. House Quarrel and their allies all raising grain prices? They have obviously been observing us, waiting for a good time to strike. I think they have underestimated you due to your age, just as Guithenus did,” Siri said with humor in her eyes.

  “I will make them pay dearly for that,” Ari said with a venomous smile.

  “We will make them pay, Mistress. I will be by your side,” Siri said.

  “Good. We will consider this in detail in a moment. What do you think of him?” Ari asked.

  “Thorel Tangarth, Mistress?” Siri said with a smile at her Mistress's quirk.

  “Thorel Tangarth,” she said quietly.

  “By the little contact I have had with him, I have little to say, Milady. He is attractive for a man. He appears to be thoughtful, courteous, and serious. If he can succeed, I believe he
will,” Siri said.

  “That is a lot of information for little contact. Why do you say this?” Ari asked.

  “He met my eyes at all times and attended my words well, Mistress. While I may be old enough to be his mother, I am fit and not unattractive. His companion had a more typically male response though. His actions indicate seriousness and a level of discipline rare for someone his age,” Siri replied.

  Ari nodded. “He does listen. And he has a fairly quick wit.”

  “I must say that your invitation to his friend to cook for you was brilliant. It will be easier to bind him to you if his friend also swears to you,” Siri said with a respectful incline of her shaved head.

  “Thank you, but I truly am tired of the chef's meals. While many of them please me, I want something new,” her mouth quirked in a half-smile.

  Ari wondered about Thorel's visions of animal's spirits though. If he truly did have this ability, and that is the explanation for his healing, it would be a discovery only matched by her own Master's thesis. Assuming the man wasn't mentally ill.

  “Do you have advice for me with him?” Ari asked.

  “I think your planned lessons this weekend will give you an excellent opportunity to get to know him. While I have little experience with men, the dynamics of a relationship are the same, no matter your preference. You will have to be willing to speak with him honestly as you do with me, Mistress. And you must be willing to listen to him,” Siri said thoughtfully.

  “If I open my legs for him, he should be willing to fight ten men for that,” Ari said in a dour tone.

  Siri laughed. “He is not a man driven by lust, Mistress. I cannot say what does drive him yet though.”

  “I hate speaking honestly to other people. Most are too stupid to understand anyway. And listening to a commoner, even if he has potential, is a waste of my time,” Ari said.

  “He will no longer be common if he gains his staff. I would suggest approaching it from that viewpoint, Mistress,” Siri looked at her seriously.