by Alston Sleet
A few passes to ensure all the springs had the same rough density with another pass to check the alignment of the ‘grain’ of the metal and I was convinced everything was set. I had created the first carriage in this world with metal springs and a separate metal undercarriage.
My bout of sudden conveyance engineering came as a bit of a surprise to my companions. I had experienced an epiphany, the nature of which explained why I was so frustrated and sad with my current life. I had thought I would be happy. I had survived, I was immortal, I was throwing spells, learning to master the sword, and generally living like a character from a fantasy game…all while developing a mind that will eventually join the Digital community and understand the mysteries of the multi-verse and have the power to effectively create universes; essentially godhood by any other name. Yet I was sad. I wasn’t suicidal, my three months of prison seclusion had shown me what real depression was, but I still felt a general malaise.
The answer struck me when I noticed the crude carriage which would be our conveyance back to the capital. I had been casually noticing the fact that the axle of the carriage was essentially bolted directly to the frame and so the ride would be both bumpy and uncomfortable. Finding out that one of the seat cushions opened up into what was a toilet seat so that the passengers could defecate directly onto the street while riding did nothing to enhance my opinion of its crudity.
The answer that came to me in those moments of my inspection of our ride was creativity and creation. I had always loved to build and create things as a kid. I took the most joy in mastering some skill of creation as a child, from pottery to house framing. I spent more than one summer as an apprentice to my handyman father, first as a fetch and carry boy and later learning important skills. My schooling and profession before my sickness had been as a mechanical engineer specializing in industrial burners and high-temperature furnaces.
But I spent months developing my scheme, more months in solitary confinement, and almost a year leveling up through near-constant battles. The most intricate thing I had created in all that time had been paving a road. My first love of my life was building and creating complex things and I hadn’t been able to spend time creating or even considering making things.
Patting my hands off I stood and surveyed my creation. A bit lumpy and slightly uneven, but better than I had initially expected and probably should hope for considering that this was the first project to use my new metal manipulation spell. Once I had figured out my sadness and it’s cure, I had jumped at solving it, not even considering too deeply the usage of that spell slot. In retrospect, it was probably a good selection. Next to stone, metal would be the most obvious material to use for long term restraint and with my new spell the two most common methods were now neutralized.
Signaling the silently disapproving head servant to get the stable crew to flip the carriage back up and ready, I headed back into Delsar house. My sudden bout of carriage redesign had disrupted our schedule completely. I personally didn’t care since I was letting my temper with the King settle in a hope that I would be able to act more diplomatic. Felvers didn’t care since he was being left as my trainer and guard at need which meant he got to stay in the main house and eat at the fancy dinners. Seren seemed a bit annoyed by my actions but also oddly happy as well, I can only assume she wasn’t looking forward to the slow trudge cross country either. The only one who seemed upset in truth over my actions was Lendser, I think he was looking forward to me being out of his hair and away from his home. I was trying not to ruffle his feathers since he will be the future head of Delsar house who I will need to deal with for many years to come.
Tidying up in my room, splashing my hands and face with the small bowl of water on my dresser, was interrupted by a loud scream within the house. Face still wet I rushed towards the screaming. With the twists and turns and frequent misdirections because of the numerous staff designated hallways I was horribly late to the commotion. Lendser was holding a servant woman who was huddled against the wall, I remember seeing her occasionally handling Felvers breakfast food deliveries though her name escaped me.
At the feet of the shuffling crowd was Felvers. His body contorted in a muscle locked grimace, a bloody stab wound low on his back. Felvers skin was flushed a deep red, minus the stab wound it would have looked like he had died of some kind of severe exertion and then heart attack. The servants slowly shuffled away as Relven Delsar the clan head approached the body. Besides a slow deep breath and slightly looking off into the distance Relven appeared unconcerned by Felvers death.
“Wrap the body, he will be buried in the family plot for those of the branch lines”, with that Relven turned and walked away.
“But, wait…”, I said before my shoulder was quickly grabbed and squeezed by Delana Delsar who was hanging back silently.
I was having trouble looking away from Felvers. He was dead and his death had obviously not been an easy one. I found my eyes following Felvers body as it was slowly lifted and carried away. I felt like I was glued to the ground till my sight line was broken as the laborers carried him around a corner. Slowly I turned to find Delana still silently watching the proceedings then I followed as she gestured low with one finger towards the front offices of the House.
I don’t clearly remember the walk back to the offices, I don’t even really remember sitting down in a chair. But shortly I found myself with a bit more focus sitting in a chair in one of the main meeting rooms with a cup of hot tea and Delana watching me silently.
“Scarlet death, it’s a deniable message from noble houses to a merchant house. It’s a forgivable way to put pressure on a merchant house to back off whatever politics they are pushing and leave politics to the nobles”, with a flat stare Delana just watched the expressions flash across my face as I understood the message.
Leaning forward, attempting to contain my slowly boiling rage, I asked: “Which noble house?”
“The point is that it can be denied by all. My best guess would be the King is letting us know we are moving towards disfavor, though it could have been your wife’s father, her ex-husband’s father, or one of several other possible noble houses targeting us for any number of reasons.”
“What will you do?” I asked, trying to remember that I can’t fight every war here in this world even as I thought of the stories Felvers told as he lounged after a hard day in the dungeon.
“Felvers will be buried with honor. Performing a swift and silent burial suggests the clan has accepted the rebuke and will not be taking public action over this. Anything else is private business of the clan house. We have been denied the services of a valuable servant after all, not you”.
The reminder of how callous my new world was again hit me squarely in the face. There are no investigations here, no rule of law, there are no laws except custom and even then with enough power, it can be flaunted. Felvers was dead, the King probably did it, and House Delsar was mostly concerned with the rebuke. It’s likely that if the King openly admitted the murder or that he had it done, it would be seen as no more than his right.
I had been considering the different ways I could handle the King. Those options were now gone, The King would take my deal or I would destroy him and all he holds dear because of this insult, perhaps even then. This world knows power and only power, I would try and wield it carefully, but I would wield it.
###
Trudging as quickly as my aging knee joints would allow I rushed towards the King’s study. With a few subtle hand signs as I passed, I indicated to my servant to start packing my personal belongings and my writings. I wasn’t sure if this last meeting with the King would be my final official act or just my final act.
Knocking gently on the sturdy and subtly enspelled oak door I waited for the Kings shout to enter, the only noise that would normally pass through the door when closed. On the King’s command, I passed the two silent guards stationed outside the King’s private office. With a bit of effort and a hand sign, I cast the silenc
ing incantation.
I had passed along correspondences the day before sealed for the King’s eyes only which the King had failed to inform me of the contents. My only hope was that the news would put the King in a better temper and would blunt the report of my new auguries.
The King was situated behind his desk, his hands gently resting upon the blotter. My long years serving the King and the lack of gentle finger tapping, told me more than a broad smile would. The King had received good news and now was hoping for more.
“My King, the auguries are unchanged in content, but are changed in degree”, I said as I rose from my bow.
The return of the King’s finger tapping concerned me, but at least he had changed to his past behavior and had abandoned the far more erratic behavior from a few days ago.
“Explain Jofrem.”
Again, the use of my name instead of my title was a singularly encouraging sign.
“Normally divinations show that which is most likely, given the power and decisions of the people involved, but the river of time has tributaries and some small act can almost always divert the course of the present.”
The nod I received conveyed understanding, at least in principle.
“This is why divination is only useful for those with power, temporal or magical. Without the power to affect the world, divination is unlikely to give the insight needed to allow for the divergence of the flow. It would be simply a matter of leverage would be the best analogy. These people we call The Levers of Time, or just simply Levers.”
Again, a silent nod of understanding and a signal to elaborate. The continuing silence of the King was beginning to concern me. The King was normally taciturn during his most decisive moments but this was far more stoic than I had been expecting. I began to wonder if I had celebrated the return of his normal balance too soon.
“On the other side of this, we have Linchpins, people who usually have little power but a decisive or consistency of character and who will be at a specific point in time doing precisely what is needed in the exact way needed. Without them, or if they are shifted in any way, the future drastically alters. One decision the future goes one way another decision and it can go another or sometimes many other ways.”
Again, the slow silent nod.
“I…I believe that in this rare situation The Immortal Wizard and yourself have become both Linchpin and Lever. For some reason the tributaries of time are now gone, something recently has changed. A decision will come in the future, your choice and only your choice determines how the future travels. The divination remains the same. The Immortal Wizard will offer once more; the cost of a Kingdom or the loss of one”.
With a small gulp, I lapsed into silence. While I was more than capable of fighting my way free if the King becomes even more erratic and decides to take the traditional royal route and take this out on the messenger, fleeing would cost me my servants, my investments in the city, and most importantly to me my research and materials.
“Suggestions?” The King asked while still gazing steadily at his bookcase.
“All I can suggest is to consider whatever offer The Immortal Wizard presents carefully. I’m guessing, and this is only a guess, that the offer will be some type of ultimatum, you will be able to take his offer or leave it and even trying to negotiate will lead to some decision. Again, I can’t promise this, my curse precludes clarity here, but it’s likely. Sire…while the tributaries of the future are gone now, this may not be the case once we have passed the decision point.”
With a wave the King signaled my dismissal.
Superficially that meeting appeared to be a return of the King to his normal controlled self…but I still could feel a need to accelerate my preparations to leave. One of the benefits of a long life bolstered by magic was recognizing when to follow along with the subtle pushes from the future.
Chapter 19
Changing the Plan, Planning to Change.
With a sigh, I started to rub my forehead.
The ride to the capital had taken an extra week longer than even what had been expected with the additional detour. The ride to the capital, until the turn out towards the countryside, had a large number of wandering monsters and random brigands. It wasn’t until we had rerouted and begun our ride back towards the capital from a different direction that the random attacks ramped up again. Obviously, these were ‘random’ in the same way that an old time mob run Vegas game was ‘random’.
The original plan was to have me, my new wife, Felvers as my trainer and House Delsar representative, and a coachman to head towards the capital to meet with the King. The plan would have included a win-win proposition with plenty of gold and fame for all, including for the King.
That was until the assassination of Felvers.
The new plan had just me and a House Delsar servant, Andar, with the carriage. After I had repelled the third attack I recognized the pattern developing and used the scrap weapons and armor which I had collected after each fight in order to form a metal cage as protection around Andar. The fact that each ambush from the brigands had quickly worked to try and enter the carriage and had ignored me as I sat up next to Andar to chat told me clearly that my companions were the actual goal, not money or me.
This left little doubt, I was now severely pissing off the King or someone in his faction and he was working to alter the situation. At this point, I was glad that the situation had changed. I was going over or through the King. I had killed one man by beating him to death to reach my goals, I had hated every moment of it but I thought it was needed for my future and for my goals. If need be I would be willing to do the same or worse to the King.
I was working to avoid a straight physical confrontation with the King since it wouldn’t work as well for my legend and I needed to make good on my deal with House Delsar. As my deal was structured now it only works for them if I make a lot of coins and I still need to emphasize the part of my legend I’m building that says dealing with me is always preferred. Going through immortality being shunned and avoided would be depressing.
Slowly a grin came over my face as I saw the gates of the capital ahead.
“Finally! I can’t wait to get a room at the inn and knock some of the road grime off,” Andar said with a bit of cheer in his normally low-key voice.
“Sorry about the metal shell, but it seemed like the best way to keep you from getting killed by ambush on the way,” I casually replied as I slowly worked to create an opening for the shell.
“No, I appreciate it even if it was a bit uncomfortable and sweaty. I might just try to get a door put on it to help with trips like this,” Andar said as he slowly climbed out of the metal shell, wiping his sweat-soaked blond locks out of his eyes.
I could see the guards at the gate suddenly straightening as I was peeling the shell away. One of the guards, a tall dark haired man in an unpolished breastplate stepped forward.
“Sir, I am Sergent Cludor. I was told to await your appearance and present this letter upon your arrival.”
So saying he handed over a stiff cream-colored paper sealed with a bright red wax pressed with a circle and a small bit of ribbon. A slight bow and a curious look to the paper was all he did before turning and walking back towards the rest of the guards and away.
The fact that a guard was waiting for me with a letter meant that either they were watching each gate for me or knew where I would be. Knowing which it was could tell me something interesting about the situation on the ground. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any spies on the ground ready to tell me which it was. Another thing to keep in mind for the future. Like sword-craft, spy-craft needed to be something to learn even if I didn’t find it as personally satisfying.
As Andar guided the carriage toward the inn we had previously decided on, it seems his parents owned it and he wanted to visit. I opened my letter with a bit of fingernail digging into wax. The letter was an invitation for a late state dinner, informal attire, sword allowed.
This put me
in a bit of a quandary, something I was sure to be the intent. Sasha had explained to me in our lessons that one of the easiest ways to undermine someone politically is to make them appear out of favor or ignorant. A common way to do this was to invite someone to a dinner, then reject them publicly when they try to enter as if they are a party crasher. Alternatively, if it had been announced that I was summoned to appear before the King, then simply not showing up would present me as cowardly. Again, my lack of spy-craft on the ground was hindering my efforts. Being known as a politically inept but powerful bruiser was not what I wanted to be seen as.
I found myself strangely bemused by these games. I had actual life and death power over basically everyone in the capital. If I really wanted to I could wreck havoc and kill bare handed in a feast of slaughter which could not be stopped by any normal means. The fact that the King is this petty and full of game playing says that he lacks this same power, his only option is to try and beset me with childish annoyances in an effort to distract me from my goals.
If the King wants to play political games, I can play them as well. Fingering the small pouch of coins given to me by Lady Delsar I interrupted Andar’s reunion with his parents in order to have a small errand taken care of.
I think it would be wise to sleep tonight in an inn alone where I didn’t care about the occupants.
###
Sergeant Cludor wiped the sweat from under his metal helmet as he waited to the side of the palace gates. The night was far cooler than the day, but the sweat was from nerves, not the mild heat. Cludor had a gift, a trick of magic that had served him since he was a child. He wasn’t able to throw fire or see the future or heal. His only gift was avoiding trouble.
A skill, Breath of the Grave.
