Techromancy Scrolls_Westlands

by Erik Schubach

  She gave the room a steely-eyed gaze, her green eyes held the fire of Wexbury as she continued, “The task force will scout to the west no more than nine days. At a cruising speed of thirty-five to forty miles per hour, we should arrive at the western Weigh Station in just over five hours from our departure from Templar Hall to resupply our magic spark vessels and take on any last minute supplies. The following morning we will depart for the Westlands.”

  This made the knights and scholars in the room gasp, even though they were aware of the speed of the dirigibles. It was just the fact that we had the technology to cross so quickly over the dead and rubble-strewn landscape that took our ancestors weeks to traverse.

  In the days of old, the exploration of the Uninhabitable Lands was a painstakingly slow process. Because of the rubble-strewn barren rock which was rife with other obstacles like cracks in the earth itself and thermal venting from active fissures, they could only progress around ten miles per day.

  Over the centuries, various kings of Highland had slowly created cleared roadways to all of the weigh stations at the outer markers, so that horsemen with wagons could make the hundred and fifty-mile journey in but two days. And here we were talking about traveling almost a hundred miles farther from down here in Wexbury, in just mere hours.

  I noted she was using the top cruising speed of the Outrider. She must have confidence that the other realms were as competent as Bex was in their construction of the new airships, and they would be able to keep pace with her. I kept glancing up at George and Duke Frederick at the other side of the table from us. They had their eyes on Bex and me as Celeste spoke. They had smug looks on their faces like they knew what I was thinking. Just like men, being boys, they were up to something that they hadn't told the rest of us.

  She moved her finger to the edge of the map and tapped the symbol there. “We will move past the outer cairns approximately two to three hours later.”

  We all swallowed at the significance of that, even though we have heard these plans dozens of times during the various planning meetings over the months. Wagons of supplies for the mission have been going out to the west weigh station for months now. But once we passed over the outer cairns, just over two hundred and fifty miles from Highland... the farthest any man has ever traveled into the barren wastelands that nature was trying so desperately to reclaim. Well, any Altii I should say since the People have apparently gone where we could not.

  The stacked stone cairns signified the farthest we had traveled, and they were monuments to men that had said to the universe, “We were here.”

  We would be seeing lands that nobody currently living in Sparo had ever laid eyes upon. And just the mere concept of the Westlands... of another pocket of habitable lands made my imagination run rampant, thinking that if they have been out there all this time, then there had to be even more out there to discover. With our airships, maybe we can launch exploratory missions on a scale the world had never seen.

  And just maybe, mankind would be able to see the fabled dark side of the Earth one day, where our scholars postulate there are still great seas of molten magma brought to the surface by the debris that showered that side of the Earth during the Great Impact. Instantly snuffing out the lives of the billions who are rumored to have lived in the Before.

  I pulled myself back to the briefing as Celeste went on. “We aren't sure just how far away the Westlands lie from Highland Reach, Laney's visions haven't revealed it, though she says she is pulled unimaginable distances to the west in her vision... but I can assure you one thing.” She looked around with a sly smirk. “They won't be any more than nine days out.”

  We all chuckled as that was our maximum range, giving us enough supplies and power vessels to make the return trip with a ten percent safety margin. We would be in the air for eight hours a day, so our theoretical maximum range before we were forced to turn back was close to three thousand miles.

  That was half again greater than the distance between Highland and Hell's Gate. But Bex tells us that the likelihood of conditions ideal enough to maintain top cruising speeds over that distance is unlikely, even a decent headwind could cut our progress in half. So he tells us to assume no more than fifteen hundred to two thousand miles to be conservative.

  All of these theoretical distances boggled my mind, but as Prime Techromancer Donovan keeps pointing out, it is unlikely that the Westlands could lie that far out. As it would have been impossible for the man to have traveled for more than a few weeks, as our outer cairns took a month to travel to in ancient times... and that was with a supply weigh station in between.

  Most of us refused to accept the logic of that because it would have meant something almost tragic. It would mean that the Westlands lay no more than four to five hundred miles from Sparo's outer markers, assuming approximately ten miles of travel per day in the treacherous landscape. Which would mean that our people would have only missed discovering the new lands by merely a couple hundred miles or so.

  And if that held true. Then the Westlands were no more than a couple days flight from Highland Keep. It made the distance seem so close, yet it was so far away that we couldn't lend assistance until now. Not that we were officially lending assistance now, mind you.

  Oh, how I hated the games of politics.

  Then she went back into her cold professional mode as her voice carried while she paced the table, everyone moving back to give her room. “Once our airships spot the Westlands, we will lower our altitude and approach to a point approximately five miles from the outer edge of the habitable region, keeping out of sight.”

  She pointed to a map that had a big question mark on a blob-shaped piece of land since we had no idea its true shape. She tapped some symbols representing the three dirigibles. “The scouts will head out on the two horses carried by Highland's Condor.”

  We all nodded. The Condor wasn't going to be able to carry any supplies, as they would be loaded down with the two horses and the feed and water necessary for them. It was a concession we made to our range, but we needed a means of quick scouting as we had no clue as to the size of the Westlands.

  “Squad Able and Bravo will set out on foot with the Mountain Gypsy Greva, and meet up with the advanced scouts in the Westlands. Squad Charlie will remain to secure the airships and watch for signal fires in case we need immediate extraction.”

  My heart beat faster. We would have three full squads... a platoon. That, of everything, told the true story of our 'exploratory' mission. We would have twenty-four highly trained knights, six of which were Techno-Knights simply to scout out the situation and report back to Sparo. With orders not to engage any enemy if they are detected.

  That is where we all heard the blah blah blah of politician speak. If we could lend aid to the Cristea if they were under siege, then a platoon of Sparo blades would descend upon the enemy like a wave of steel and fire, with the Mountain Gypsy Greva leading the charge.

  A Greva, as I learned in what seems another lifetime ago, is a special strike team of Gypsies, five strong. It usually consisted of three blades and two bows, with most touched by the magiks of the people.

  I couldn't help but look between Ranelle, who was now perched on the back of a chair, and Sarafine who was studying the map intently enough to burn holes in it. The two women were part of the Greva with me that stormed the legendary Keep of Lord Cedric in Solomon to rescue Mother Udele.

  It was as if they felt my attention on them, and they both glanced over and gave me soft smiles, sharing the terrifying memory, before turning back to the map.

  I tuned out the last of the political machinations and noted just how shapely my Lady's butt was in her studded leather armor. It was a shame she'd be trading it for traditional Gypsy hunting gear before we embarked on the mission when the bells in the cathedral in Wexbury chimed noon.

  The wistful crooked smile on my face was wiped away when my head and that of every knight in the room snapped up at the far away sound of the bellows powered wa
r horns of Wexbury sounding two miles to the west of us.

  Then our heads snapped toward the main tower at the center of Templar Hall when the smaller bellows powered war horn sounded deep and long in answer. We heard the warning bells being rung around the dig.

  I smiled and said excitedly into the relative silence after the horn stopped sounding, “They're here.”

  I was already dashing toward the door, being joined by more and more knights as we streamed out, the other knights were swarming the weapons racks as I was just dragged along by Celeste looping her arm on the right, and Sarafine on the left.

  We all looked to the sky to the north as we heard people shouting outside the gates. I could see people pointing to the sky. I glanced back to the two objects in the distance, lumbering toward us, and had to do a double take when I saw Great Mother Ranelle sitting atop a light post, her legs dangling as she watched the two airships approaching.

  She was slicing another apple with her dagger. How had she retrieved it from the map and got out here and up there so fast? Wait, don't answer that, I'm sure I don't want to know. The woman was sort of frightening at times with little feats like this which seemed almost impossible.

  Us knights kept close to the structure so that the approaching airships could land in the expansive courtyard of the hall. Our murmuring and pointing started to fall away as the dirigibles grew in the sky. My mouth hung open as they approached faster than the Outrider could ever hope to sail.

  My eyes bulged as they slid to a halt above Templar Hall. They blotted out Father Sol in the sky and were so mammoth that each could swallow the Outrider threefold. Unlike our lady of the sky who had four, these beasts had eight huge propellers that were cutting through the air with huge whup whup whups which actually caused an air pressure difference at ground level.

  I heard myself exclaiming, “Mother Luna!”

  Celeste was just nodding in agreement, and Bex, who came sliding to a stop beside us as he caught up and looked to the sky, looked like a child who was just given a halfpenny to get sweets in the Market. His smile split his face, and I could see more pride than amazement on his freckled face.

  I jumped and squeaked at a man's voice at my ear. Prince George said to us, “I think we can do a little better than two horses.”

  I tried not to swear, as I didn't wish to set a bad example for the children of Wexbury and the Dig, but, “Shit.”

  Giant anchors slammed into the courtyard, and the two monsters from fairy tales came slowly to rest on the ground. Filling the entire courtyard with barely a yard to spare.

  I turned to the chuckling man, Everly on his arm looking just as smug. I ignored him and accused her, “You knew?”

  She grinned back. “Of course I did, dear one, and it was well worth keeping the secret to see the look on your faces.”

  I scrunched my nose at her then turned back to stare in wonder at the sheer size of the airships in disbelief. I would have to put the Prince and his evil wife on my smiting list for this.

  I smiled hugely as the children started pouring out of the hall and through the portcullis to see a sight like no other.

  I had to chuckle as Misty and Ingr went squealing past us to see this new wonder of the world.

  Then I hesitated when I saw Celeste's narrowed eyes as she gazed upon the marvelous machines, George's attention on my Lady. I looked at her and the airships then my eyes widened a bit in understanding, she saw the military applications of airships.

  The Outrider, from the moment Bex had come up with the concept, had been intended as a research vessel. One of exploration and not war. But these beasts were different, I had only just realized that their bellies were armored, and they had the capacity to lift entire platoons with their mounts. Vessels which could ignore the walls of any Keep and drop men behind enemy lines – and the fact that it was the two realms with the largest armies who had kept them secret as they constructed them...

  I understood, rationally, the Crown's need to possess one, as they ruled over all. But Solomon? I realized the sheer advantage this would give Solomon, who already had an advantage over all other realms like Wexbury. I knew I shouldn't favor one realm over the others as Templar, but... Wexbury was my home.

  And I saw my girl was angry.

  She finally noted George's attention on her, and he saw the realization and anger boiling as her eyes started drizzling green sparks that only those touched with magic could see. Without breaking eye contact, he inclined his head in some sort of unspoken agreement between them and then said only six words, “We will speak of this later.”

  Celeste inclined her head back at him, then seemed to rejoin the rest of us in marveling at the contraptions as the propellers finally whupped to a stop. Apparently, she was satisfied, so I was as well.

  Chapter 4 – Farewells

  Us Templars and Duke Fredrick toured the vessels, checking their readiness for the requirements for the mission. Bex was full of questions for their pilots. It seemed that it took three men to fly one of the beasts.

  Lord Bexington was enthusiastically offering ideas to automate the operations so that two could fly one in a pinch. This caused Celeste a bit of anxiety, as the poor boy hadn't realized yet that they had perverted his idea and twisted it to military purposes. When he did, it was going to gut the poor man.

  Fred was getting more and more agitated throughout the tour, as he was making the realization and sharing some pointed looks with the Prince. George muttered, “Why does everyone's mind automatically go there?”

  The Duke cocked an incredulous eyebrow at his liege. “Tell me I'm wrong.”

  The silence between them told the entire story. I did hope that the Prince would have the realms seek military parity as he and the last three kings insisted upon. There were already rules about how many knights each realm could have according to population density. And how many of those could be Techno-Knights.

  Just in my lifetime, I have seen Techno-Knights shuffled between realms. Our nearest neighbor to the south, and staunchest ally, Flatlash, has one of the smaller populations and was just given a Techno-Knight from Perth Hollow, to raise their number back up to two, though one is close to retirement.

  This parity has kept the peace between the Lower Ten for generations. Though every realm has its own secrets, I guess. As Wexbury had me, an Adept, in her ranks. Adepts, unlike other magic users, could channel and use all of the types of elemental magic instead of just one, and even have an affinity for electricity.

  There were only four know Adepts in the realms besides me. I wondered about that though, since Wexbury had done a decent job of hiding my true abilities, I had to wonder if other realms did as well. I was going to reveal it to Sparo since I had attained Templar status, but George, even though he isn't positive I am Adept, has warned against revealing any other abilities we may possess.

  He didn't want to know and didn't want others to either. Which was just silly, as all of the Mountain Gypsies that traveled the Whispering Walls knew. Rain is endlessly entertained by what she calls 'the childish games the Altii play.'

  The People have no games between their bands, as they all work together to make life better for all. It is one of the things that makes me proud to be half Gypsy. I only wish the culture which claims the other half of me were so enlightened. But in his way, Prince George does try – Which is his main reason for not taking the Crown of King after his father, King Lucius died.

  The airships were quite utilitarian and didn't have the same artistic flair Bex put into his design.

  Where Bex had a small kitchen area and pantry, they had rows of benches secured to the floor. Where our freckled genius had paneling and trim to make the cabin area of the gondola feel like a cottage, their walls were bare with exposed structure making them feel spartan and industrial. They weren't even heated. But for all their blandness, they were no less impressive as the captain of the Condor spoke of the capacity of the cargo bay and the lift and thrust parameters that Bex seemed mos
t excited about.

  I had but one question that was exciting for me. It was the one thing we lacked in our plans, speed, and mobility once we arrived. “Can we truly bring our mounts?” We could scout more ground and travel more responsively on horseback. It gave us a better chance of locating the Cristea and lend aid before our supplies were depleted.

  The captain chuckled. “Not for everyone, but we have just enough lift for the two forward squads and the Gypsy's... what is it called? Grevor. So long as a couple knights double up.”

  Rain, Celeste and I chimed out automatically, “Greva.”

  Then I almost jumped. Where had Great Mother Ranelle come from? I muttered to her, “Mother Luna, Rain, stop doing that.”

  She beamed a toothy smile at us all.

  Then Fred chuckled at Captain Thomas. “More than just a couple may have to double up if Templar Laney can convince you to bring her monster along.”

  The man shook his shaved head. The look on his face was that of a man who felt he was placating an unknowing, high ranking noble, no matter how tedious it was. He forced a smile. “My Lord, you'll find the Condor is up to the task. How big could a mount for such a...” He inclined his head to me in apology. “Sorry my lady, but such a diminutive woman, be?”

  I felt the burn of a blush on my cheeks.

  George turned to exit the craft as he chuckled to the younger man. “You may have to leave a charger or two behind, Captain.”

  Nobody said a word to the confused looking man as we left. My steps were full of restrained energy and bounce of excitement. Whenever possible, my Goliath was with me on all my missions. The huge black Percheron stallion weighed well over a ton – At least twice that of a charger. I may look silly perched atop my beautiful boy, but he was mine, won out in battle.

  I absently wondered if maybe the much smaller mustangs the Gypsies rode would make up some of that weight difference, I really hated the fact that during planning, I known I'd be leaving my boy behind. He had been with me in all the toughest battles of my life as a knight.