Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1)

by Richard Cluff

  “Mistress! You have visitors,” she said excitedly.

  “Visitors? Who?” She asked. She did not have time for this right now. Not with war having been declared.

  “I think you will wish to see for yourself. Considering the news you sent us, I am certain they will be welcome,” Siri said enthusiastically.

  Siri was never this enthusiastic. At least not that Ari had seen. It piqued her interest, and curiosity. She could have ordered Siri to tell her who the visitors were, but she decided to let Siri give her this surprise. She had done so much for her, it was not unjust.

  * * *

  The doors to her audience chamber opened silently, revealing the black marble floor of the magnificent room. Ari entered with Siri and General Tarsis following.

  She saw Wizard Feran sitting beside her desk speaking with the guests. The visitors sat with their backs to her in the chairs in front of it. Six of her guards stood silently in a semicircle near the visitors.

  Whoever they were had to be important, and pose some danger if they were sent here to wait upon her. They each had several spirits attached to them. Ari made her way to her desk. Wizard Feran stood and bowed properly upon noting her.

  “Mistress,” he said during the deep bow.

  The visitors stood, and bowed to her as she passed their chairs. Her personal guard, Siri, and the General followed her closely.

  She noted the staves they held in their hands, and that the robes they wore bore Masters' sigils.

  “Greetings, Lord and Lady,” Ari said with a nod of respect. She held her tone in check and addressed them without commitment or interest. “Why have you come to see me today?”

  “Milady,” The woman spoke. “I am Talgris Phena. This is my colleague, Mora Praxis,” she said with a gesture to the male Master Wizard.

  “Greetings Milady,” he said with a respectful nod. Ari replied with a nod of acknowledgment.

  She took off her long coat. Kira appeared at her shoulder to take it for her. She seated herself and gestured for the others to do so.

  “I'm waiting,” Ari said shortly. Wizards they may be, but time was critical right now.

  Wizard Phena looked abashed. “Apologies, Milady. We have come to offer our oath of service to you, Great Lady Dothranan.”

  Outwardly, she maintained her composure. Inwardly, her heart leaped for joy. Her suspicion was automatically triggered though.

  “I have been seeking Wizards for over five months. My offer of service has been posted in the Wizard's Tower for that time. Why have you arrived now?” She asked coldly, afraid to hope.

  To have hope was to have a vulnerability, she knew too well.

  Wizard Praxis spoke: “Word of your victory in the duel with Wizard Hanar has spread quickly throughout the Tower. We were working in the laboratory on a personal project we have been collaborating on. I will admit that we saw the offer of service but believed you were... a bit young to seriously consider, Milady.”

  “Defeating Wizard Hanar in single combat has changed that though, Milady. I could never have imagined an apprentice actually defeating a Wizard in a duel!” Phena said in pure admiration.

  Her gambit had paid off. She knew all she had to do to draw the arrogant fools out of the tower was to show them just how capable she truly was.

  “The technique the Mistress used was one I have never heard of either,” Feran said into the conversation's brief void.

  “Truly? Will you make this the subject of your thesis, Milady?” Praxis asked in interest.

  “Oh no... that technique, while useful is not worthy of that. It was simply a solution to the problem I faced with my opponents Earth affinity. The thesis I am working on is far broader in scope. It will change the world of Wizardry in a way that has not been seen since the Council was formed,” she replied with certainty. If only she could share her true brilliance with them, she would. But they would wait, as the realm would have to wait.

  “Truly? I am surprised by this. By Councilor Vallad's account, this technique allowed you to completely destroy his shield and him in a single blow! That is not something to be taken lightly,” the female Wizard said respectfully.

  Ari nodded with a smile and looked to Siri. Siri wore a satisfied look on her face. She must have known these two intended to offer their oaths.

  “I agree. But it is nothing I would not simply give those Wizards who served me, on the condition that they would not share it. But before you take the oath of service, I should inform you that war has been declared between House Dothranan and House Quarrel. The two of you will immediately be put in the field of battle. If you are willing to do this, I will teach you this technique. There will be a stipulation in your Oaths though: should you renounce your service before this war is finished, you will be immediately put to death. Would each of you agree to this?” She asked seriously. She had to ensure they could not simply take her knowledge without serving her.

  She could see them using the mind touch to speak privately. The man broke the silence. Ari touched him with the truth seer.

  “We will not simply take your gift and run. While we did not expect war to come to this House today, we are firm in our decision Milady. You are obviously as brilliant as Lord Feran has told us.”

  Ari's excitement grew as she confirmed he spoke the truth.

  Ari rose and said: “Very well, I will accept your oaths. You are prepared, Siri?”

  “Yes Mistress,” She said, pulling the papers from her case. Ari was not surprised that she was ready, given the fact she obviously knew their intentions. This has been a very pleasant surprise indeed.

  “Then kneel, and swear to me. Then you will assist us in our war preparations.”

  * * *

  After passing through the guard post outside the kitchens, Thorel and Korin were admitted. The guards were understandably cautious; they made them wait while they confirmed that Nigel wanted to see them and that Thorel was his friend.

  It was quite a spectacle when they entered. There were dozens of people who were working on preparing food or cleaning up from breakfast, even though it was half past the tenth hour now. Before this moment, Thorel never considered what it would take for the vast amounts of food that was served in the Manor to reach the tables. He could also see that several guards were posted here as well.

  The guard that escorted them asked another guard about Nigel; they were then pointed in the right direction.

  It was a good thing too. Thorel would have had difficulty spotting him, he looked so different with his apron, and white hat completely covering his hair. The only thing that truly marked him out was the small black goatee that adorned his youthful face.

  Nina sat on a stool behind him, writing things on a lapboard while reading a book. Her cheek wasn't bandaged now: he could see three deep gouges. She looked like she'd been clawed by an animal. It was sure to scar her pretty face.

  She seemed to be doing some of her academic work while she sat here with him. That was heartwarming to Thorel that this woman would sit here with him like that.

  He approached and said: “Nigel, I'd like you to meet my guardian, Korin Quedesham.”

  Nigel looked up from what he was doing; he had two pots on a stove and was sautéing vegetables in a pan. The way he made the vegetables in the pan roll back on itself with a simple motion of his arm fascinated Thorel. It looked like a tiny wave lapping.

  “Give me a minute,” he said in deep concentration as he dumped the vegetables he was working with into one of the pots.

  Nina set her lapboard to the side and walked up. “He's not really trying to be rude, he's just impossible to talk to when he's working; I know 'cause I've tried,” she said with a smile. “How are you doing today?”

  As Thorel watched Nigel quickly begin cutting more vegetables faster than he'd ever seen, he was starting to understand how intent on his work his friend was. It surprised Thorel to see him so serious. Nigel was so frivolous most times, he hadn't considered the possibility he coul
d be serious.

  “I'm good! What about you?” He asked her. He worked hard to keep his discomfort beneath the surface. This woman still felt like a usurper of Eliel's place to him. He knew she didn't intend that, but looking at Nina always made him think of her.

  “I'm alright. Just trying to catch up on my studies before tomorrow. I should be ok though,” she said confidently.

  “Well while Nigel's busy, I'd like to introduce you to my guardian, Korin. Korin, this is Nina,” he stepped out of Korin's way.

  Korin stepped forward and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Nina.”

  She took his hand and looked him up and down in an appraising way. “Likewise, sir. I heard you lived near Handal, too.”

  “We do live near there, to the west,” he nodded.

  “Hmm. Well, I grew up on the east side, about twenty miles out. Ever heard of Trin's ranch?” She asked.

  “I have. Fine horses. Are you one of the stableman's children?” Korin asked.

  “Nope. I'm Nina Trin. My dad owns the ranch. I'm goin' to school so I can take over when he retires,” she said proudly. Thorel knew she had grown up there, but he'd had no idea she was the owner's daughter!

  “Well then, it's an even bigger pleasure. I've bought a horse from your father. He's a good man,” He said seriously.

  “Best man there is,” she said with pride.

  Nigel washed his hands and walked up to them, putting his hand on Nina's bottom with a grin. She promptly elbowed him in the stomach irritably and said; “And this is Nigel,” with a triumphant smile.

  “Hi,” Nigel said painfully. He put the offending hand on Nina's waist this time; her look changed to one of satisfaction.

  “Hello,” Korin said with an amused smile. “Thorel's told me a lot about you.”

  “What have you told him?” Nigel asked Thorel with a raised eyebrow.

  Thorel smiled. “Only that you're a lot of fun, and that you're the best friend a man could ask for.”

  Nigel straightened himself up proudly. It was funny to see him stretch his height up beside Nina: even when he did, he was still a good four inches shorter than she was. “That's all true of course, but he forgot to say I'm one of the best cooks in Vallad too!”

  Thorel smiled; “I almost did. Nigel made the dinner we had last night.”

  Korin's grin widened. “I don't know about that, but I do know it was a damn fine meal, sir.”

  Nigel nodded seriously. “Of course it was,” he said confidently.

  Then Thorel saw the steward who had done the paperwork for the slaves he had bought making his way towards them. He couldn't remember the man's name, but he wore thin framed round spectacles similar to Miss Mazuna's. He was tall and reedy; he held a case like Siri's in one arm and a guardswoman walked with him.

  He cleared his throat and said with a deep voice that belied his frame; “Mr. Riks, Miss Fenel has asked me to inform you that the Mistress's lunch will need to be for fourteen people.”

  Nigel's mouth dropped open. “There's no way I can make this meal for fourteen people!” He cried. “It took me an hour just to prep the vegetables! It's almost a quarter to the eleventh hour now!”

  “I'm sorry, but she did say that there would be more than expected. I would suggest you find a way to make it work. If you cannot, I'm certain the Mistress would be most displeased,” he said with a look of sympathy.

  “Oh fuck me, I'm screwed,” Nigel said with a look of panic in his eyes.

  Thorel wasn't sure what to say. He knew nothing about cooking a fine meal whatsoever. The steward nodded to him and left. “If it's a problem, I can tell Ari what happened,” Thorel said, feeling for him.

  “Can't you just make 'em something else to go with it? Give 'em smaller bits of what you made already?” Nina asked him.

  Thorel watched the panic in Nigel's eyes fade quickly as he formulated a plan. “Scrib, Kane, and Nancy! Get me five pounds of butter and flour! Six pounds of broccoli, three pounds of carrots, five pounds of white cheese!”

  The three people Nigel called out turned and looked at him. They were engaged in various tasks; chopping, scrubbing and the like. “What do you think you're doin' orderin' us around? You ain't the chef, we got things to do,” a pocked marked older man said with a sneer.

  “Your shit can wait! If you don't help me, and the Mistress is mad 'cause her lunch is late, I'm gonna tell her all about you three not helping! Now get over here! I need three dozen eggs, too!” He yelled as he grabbed a couple of pans and put them on the stove.

  The three he yelled at grudgingly put their work aside and went to do what he asked.

  “I think I've got this,” Nigel said, becoming a small whirlwind of activity.

  Nina smiled at Nigel. Thorel and Korin said their goodbyes and excused themselves. They weren't going to be of any use in this endeavor, so they got out of the way instead.

  Thorel was extremely curious about who was coming to lunch now though.

  * * *

  Jacon Quarrel sat at the head of his dining table on the forty-second floor of Quarrel manor. The commanders of his armies, his spy master, his steward and his Wizards sat with him and his son sat on his right.

  Ricard. The young man was his pride; he had not expected the disappointment that he had given him on Friday night. He was almost as disappointed as his father had been when he'd been forced to concede to Marylyn Dothranan.

  But he couldn't have expected that Tangarth fellow to be able to remarkably return to life either. That young man had performed feats that should be impossible: and he had done it in full view of everyone.

  House Dothranan has become deadly again.

  He would never have another opportunity to capitalize on their weakness, and he knew it. He had to deal with them before Wizards began flocking to her for the skill she demonstrated last night.

  When they finished their meal, he said: “General, the map.”

  “Yes Master,” she said as she stood and rolled it out.

  He stood and spoke to those assembled. “We have destroyed the Dothranan's advantage. If they cannot reach our hold, they cannot take advantage of our weakness.”

  “True enough, Master,” General Garna said, flattening the map of Vallad. “If we cannot fight inside Vallad itself, it is simple. Either of us, in order to attack the other, will have to go around the west side. Since there is no bridge to cross the Ziral river, there will be no traveling that way. It is far too deep and brisk to be forded.”

  He nodded to her thoughtfully. “Have the messengers returned from Vorn, Lodor, and Lok?”

  “Yes Master,” his steward replied.

  “And?” He asked impatiently.

  “Vorn and Lodor have promised the bulk of their force to our cause. Lord Lok has also agreed to an alliance. The messenger contacted me directly by stone, and Lord Lok himself spoke to me. He has pledged to join the battle himself, Master.”

  Jacon Quarrel smiled. Lord Lok was a powerful Wizard, easily as powerful as he was. This would not be a battle, it would be a slaughter; which was exactly the kind of battle he wanted. Death tolls were costly, and his treasury was shrinking rapidly.

  “The odds will be in our favor in arms. With the company the Dothranans deployed to Guithenus, and the losses we took when the detonation stones were used. According to those who returned from last night’s raid, their casualties were easily double our own. Then adding House Vorn, Lodor, and Lok's forces to ours, will put our armies above full strength.”

  “How much danger do you believe their Wizards pose to us, Master?” Wizard Noren asked.

  “Have our spies learned the identity of the Wizard that swore to her?” He asked his spy master.

  “Not to my knowledge, Master,” he replied. “I will inquire as soon as the handlers have returned.”

  “I wish I could tell you his sight age, but I cannot. I can say now, that the rumor in the Wizards Tower about little bitch Dothranan's sight age being three may be accurate though. I cannot
see any other way she could have destroyed Hanar the way she did last night,” Quarrel said with a sigh.

  “She may have that advantage, but she has no staff and does not have our experience. We will take her seriously, and destroy her quickly should we encounter her on the field of battle.”

  “Yes Master,” his Wizards said as one.

  * * *

  Thorel sat beside Korin at the big table in the Manor's meeting room. The guests that had attended lunch were also here; Siri, General Tarsis, the commanders of Ari's five armies, Wizard Feran, and the two Master Wizards that had just sworn to her.

  War had been declared, and according to Ari, House Quarrel intended to pursue this war, regardless of good sense. Thorel had never thought in his life he would be involved in a war, but here it was now before him.

  Korin had come to lunch since he had been invited the night before. Thorel really had to hand it to Nigel, he'd made an excellent meal. If he hadn't known first hand that he'd been under extreme pressure, he would never have guessed based on the quality of the food.

  Korin sat through the discussion at the table quietly. When they had finished lunch and were adjourning to the meeting room, Korin was dismissed. He spoke then.

  “Milady, I may not be involved in your war, but my claimed son Thorel is. I would like to contribute anything I can to help keep him safe.”

  Ari looked to Siri, who nodded to her. “Very well, Mr. Quedesham. I am certain we could not do badly with the Hero of Vox's counsel on our side.”

  He looked extremely uncomfortable when she called him that, but he was allowed to join them. Thorel learned a great deal about what Ari had to deal with here.

  “We're outnumbered in arms, but equal in Wizards now, not counting yourself, Mistress. The company we deployed to Guithenus is being recalled, but it will take three days at least even at a forced march for them to reach us,” General Tarsis began. “With Vorn and Lodor's full forces though, they will only outnumber our soldiers by about ten-thousand total, which in a battle of this scope will make little difference.”