Not a new thought for Stefan, but one he must push aside until he finished dealing with the man seated before him.
"You go with your Company, Corporal Joseph, and a talisman fashioned to identify the presence of a wizard." Stefan had spoken with Norbert, and the small man assured him he could create such an object, its sole purpose to indicate the proximity of someone who had mastered how to harness multiple layers of magic. That a wizard could imbue an object with the ability to sense any prowess in magic gave Stefan the shivers and made him glad that no one would care to look for the presence of a Lesser Magic (at least, according to both his 'experts'), else every one of his subjects would become a target. Two wizards, ostensibly aiding Dalasham, being cognizant of his peoples' unique grasp on magic gave Stefan nightmares enough.
"You will keep control of your men," he instructed. "See to it that they do not harass any subject of Dalasham in any way. That includes the women." Stefan remembered the report on how the mercenaries had treated Emily at the gate when she, Sargent Sim, and Farmer Tox had returned clandestinely to Riverbend for supplies. Though Emily had made no complaint, Sim had expressed his concern had the young woman travelled alone. "No harassment, no theft, no plundering of any kind. You will pay fairly for any extra supplies you require along the way. Failure to hold to these stipulations will result in forfeiture of all monies owed. If you can't control the baser desires of your men, you will leave them behind."
Milos spluttered.
"I won't leave hostages in your hands," he grated.
"Then you should have no problem curbing their behaviour."
"No confrontations, no heroics," Fred spoke up, his deep voice a growl of barely suppressed threat as he kept the man slightly off balance. "You're useless if you're captured or killed. Scout and report; a simple payday."
Milos snorted, somewhere between amusement and derision as he shook his head.
"This whole mess started out as a simple payday," he said. "And look where that's put us." But he stared hard at Stefan, a soldier making plans. "What payment do you propose?"
Stefan kept his sigh of relief silent. He had the mercenary Captain where he needed him. Now to loose his arrow and hope it flew true.
Chapter 17
Standing in Darien's private enclave with only determination to guide her in her search for knowledge had both intimidated and elated Em. She had felt mildly foolish, the Chief Librarian a silent and trusting presence at her back, as she closed her eyes and thought about Constance's final spell. When the tingle in her fingers led her to reach for a tome bound in scuffed black calf-skin, anticipation and dread mingled in her blood. My magic or that of the Chief Librarian's enclave? she had asked herself, surprised at how comfortable the concept of owning her own magic had become, then worried that that comfort didn't bother her.
The book, bearing the signature of Chief Librarian Erich, contained a brief summary of dates and events to mark those days as significant. It began in the year leading up to King Wulfgang's coronation, and a swift glance through presented details of Henri's Rebellion, and the actions taken on both sides. Em would have liked to give the details a much closer examination, but her hands seemed to move of their own accord, fingers flipping through the pages until she reached the final entry.
The writing clear, yet obviously rushed, she read the man's last words:
Constance and Alfred have entrusted me with this final testament, a record of Dalasham's desperate attempt to reveal the tyranny of Henri and to restore the kingdom to its rightful ruler. Look to find their last great contribution on the Fields of Erinnerung.
With that location, things had progressed swiftly. King Stefan had arranged for members of the Council to witness Norbert bind Destiny to the oath of not harming the people of Dalasham―happily, Em had avoided standing witness to what Destiny had called "frightened and superstitious spoiled men desperate to believe what they couldn't understand," instead spending her time in the library with Darien to learn what they could from the Forbidden Texts.
Following the oath binding, the King and Lord Prichard had made arrangements for a contingent of soldiers to accompany the wizards to the Fields of Erinnerung. Still not comfortable revealing the full extent of the presence of magic in Dalasham to a wide audience prone to panic in the face of the unknown, Stefan had described the excursion as a means for Destiny to widen her ward of warning, and for Norbert to add his own protections. The King had explained the likelihood of Wizard Nathan marching on Dalasmar to free Marcus from his imprisonment―everyone at Destiny's trial recalled Marcus calling on Nathan's name and his intentions to hand over the governance of the kingdom to his peer―and how, with Destiny's pre-existing spell, they might gain advance warning of Nathan's approach. While Destiny would take the opportunity to expand the circumference of her ward with Norbert's aid, only a select handful knew their real purpose in riding to Erinnerung; to locate Constance's nexus of power and determine whether they could use it in any way.
One of those trusted with the full truth now stood next to Em, a few kilometres south-east of Riverbend. Em didn't know why King Stefan and Lord Prichard had chosen to confide in Sir Pietor of Merchant Hill, but she had no problem bowing to their expertise.
Sir Pietor, one of the three knights who had aided King Stefan on the night of the riots when they had fled Prince Whillim's plot, and who had later raised troops in answer to Stefan's summons, gazed over the wide, grassy plain of the Fields of Erinnerung, the reins of his grey gelding held loosely at his side. Lord Prichard stood to his right, Destiny and Norbert to Em's left, with Ambrose and Bartok a step behind them. Pietor's men milled beyond the group, led by a capable man named Reinhardt, who kept the soldiers out of easy hearing-range.
"Dalasham really had wizards?" Pietor marvelled, his eyes sweeping across the plain. "And they cast a monumental spell right here?"
Em heard wonder, not fear or condemnation, in his voice. Perhaps such ready acceptance had prompted Prichard's trust. Then, surprisingly, the knight turned to Em.
"And Lesser Magic flows throughout the people of Dalasham?" he asked her. "Perhaps even in my own family?"
Em blinked in shock at his eager grin.
"Ah," she temporized, not knowing how to respond. He laughed softly, looking back over the field again.
"I travelled the caravan routes as I rose through the ranks, Assistant Librarian," he said. "Magic doesn't sit strangely in my household. I've seen wonders and horrors most in Dalasmar would shudder to hear. Knowing that some of those so averse to what, in reality is simply another skill set, might have a piece of that skill within them amuses me." His mirth faded slightly. "Though I admit, understanding how and why our olden wizards twisted magic to flow thus, altering our very makeup along with the remembrance of history, daunts me." He glanced at Destiny, then quickly away. "As does the notion that one once set against us might assist in our protection now using the very forces our ancestors wielded."
Em peered uncertainly at him, wondering why this obviously erudite man shared his thoughts with her. Until a few months ago, she had only known of magic in scholarly terms. He had, by his own admission, seen it first hand many times. Ought he not speak with learned wizards rather than shy librarians? She had thought her only role out here today lay in her ability to see magic―someone had to watch Destiny, make sure she didn't cast any spells beyond that which would widen her ward of warning, and King Stefan had insisted on Em keeping an eye on the lady wizard rather than just Norbert. Em hadn't expected engaging in spirited discourse with a knight whom she had only met in passing twice. She wondered how much of her thoughts had crossed her face when Sir Pietor gave her a wry smile.
"You'll forgive my impertinence, I hope, but I do enjoy a lively debate with learned persons such as yourself, young librarian." His gaze turned to the landscape once more, though he continued to address her. "Without your research skills, we wouldn't stand here, and without your persuasive arguments, we wouldn't have two wizards to assist
us, even if one has further to go to earn our trust than the other."
Em tried not to gape at him, knew she had failed when Lord Prichard smothered a laugh after glancing past Sir Pietor to see her expression. She felt her face flush and found herself furiously studying the grass at her feet as she tried to hide her flustered thoughts. Unused to such acknowledgement of her contributions―she had just done her job after all, and argued for what seemed needful to achieve any chance of success―she retreated to her accustomed ploy of hiding behind her hair.
"Our Emily has wisdom and perception beyond her years," Prichard said. "But I wonder, where would she suggest we go from here?"
Em jerked her head up, eyes wide as she stared at the master spy. She quickly turned to look for the advice of Destiny and Norbert, hoping they might have ideas now that they had arrived, seeing as they searched for the remnants of magic. But both wizards regarded her silently in turn, Destiny with a kind of bitter amusement pinching her features, and Norbert with open curiosity. She wondered if the Bakaana wizard tested her, or whether he merely also awaited her thoughts.
She looked out over the field, pulling to mind what she had read of battlefield tactics and attempting to translate those into the wide plain that stretched out in front of them. Where would Wulfgang's army situate themselves most effectively to meet Henri's charge? Where would a group of wizards gather to enact an arduous and powerful spell? Somewhere an army could defend them, yet not present an obvious target.
Knee-high grass waved in an intermittent breeze, rising and falling with the gentle sweep of low hillocks that stretched toward the horizon where the hills rose higher. A few trees dotted the landscape, and she thought the distant white and brown dots near the hills indicated the presence of sheep, though she saw no shepherd set to watch them. The river they had followed from where it tickled the south-east portion of Riverbend had narrowed to maybe ten paces wide here. It edged the eastern side of the Fields, meandering into an oxbow perhaps two-thirds of the way toward the hills. Would an army use that water for defence, or would it hinder movement? Did the elements affect the efficacy of a Great Magic? How much space would Constance and her brother have needed to set up their spell?
With an irritated puff of air, Em glared at a grinning Prichard before she smoothed her face to a blank expression, realising her newest mentor definitely tested her. Instead, she gathered her courage and spoke up.
"Where would an army find the best defence here?" she asked him. Then with her next breath, she swung around to Destiny. "And where would a wizard best employ a far-reaching spell without worry of disruption? If we find the most probable crossing of those two requirements, we'll find the nexus point."
Both Prichard and Pietor nodded at her perception and solution. Destiny snorted her contempt for the game they played, but she added her voice to the discourse as Em drew back and let those more versed in the actual implementation of such logistics find the answer.
She let her gaze roam over the deceptive calm of the field where the horrors of warfare had taken place 186 years ago, but her imagination filled in the shadows of fighting men where nature now flourished. She could almost see the lines of men sweeping across the plain, swords and shields flashing, blood flowing, screams rending the peaceful silence of the air. And somewhere in the expanse of greenery ahead, cradled in that oxbow, a tent encircled by a small ring of wizards, urgently holding a protective shield of magic around the two wizards sheltered within the canvas they guarded. Out of that tent, after long hours of desperate casting amid the roar of armies circling in torrents of rain, the crashing of thunder and slashing of lightning, would have come an immense shaft of power reaching to the sky and cascading down in a ginormous parabola that encompassed all of Dalasham, ripping the flow of magic from the few and spreading it to the many.
Em shook her head, dispelling the vivid image her mind had formed, and stared at a field swept free of history's remembrance on a morning bright with sunshine. She found herself drawn to the section of field where the river cupped an area of land perhaps a dozen paces across―hard to tell from this far away. Leaving the others to their discussion, she let fall the reins to her horse and made her way down the gentle incline that led into the field, wanting to explore. She turned when she felt someone following, smiling when Ambrose fell in beside her and matched her pace without a word. She didn't know why Stefan still had him guarding her; with Marcus imprisoned and no longer a threat, she had thought Ambrose would return to his post at the King's side. But he had continued to show up at her door each morning, and she found his presence comforting.
As they made their way through the grass, Sir Pietor's men also ranging across the field as they kept watch, Em studied the ground, looking for signs of the long-ago battle. She wondered how many hillocks actually stood as graves, and gave each a respectful wide berth lest she disturb the dead. As she moved, she kept imagining Wulfgang's forces engaged with Henri's, almost seeing flashes of movement from the corner of her eye. The third time she flinched from what didn't exist outside of her overstimulated imagination, she scowled and gritted her teeth, determined to see only what lay in front of her, concentrating fiercely on the patch of land she headed toward. Thankfully, Ambrose didn't comment every time she jumped, though his concerned frown told her that he hadn't missed her strange behaviour.
She slowed her pace as they neared the oxbow of the river, suddenly taking note of the hollow sensation that had steadily grown in the pit of her stomach, unnoticed until she paid attention. Stopping, Em lifted her gaze, aware of a headache growing behind her eyes. A faint haze shimmered the air, and with a surprised understanding, Em realised the Lesser Magic that allowed her to see magic had flared to life. Perhaps she shouldn't relegate all those shadows she had seen to her imagination; some might reflect the presence of spells.
"What do you see?" she whispered to Ambrose, wanting to know where the line stood that divided reality from what she alone could sense.
"An ideal location for wizards to work unhindered if they had enough men between them and an army," he replied, drawing her startled attention. "A slight rise of land backed by water, far enough from concealment so that no archer could creep close without notice, no ambush or infiltration unit could sneak near unseen. An ideal location to defend." His pale eyes looked down at her. "What do you see?"
She turned back to the distortion, vaguely aware that the others had followed them at a distance, though they had several metres yet before they reached them.
"It looks like a heat shimmer, barely there yet huge, almost touching the embrace of the river." She took a hesitant step forward, and the shimmer strengthened, drawing a surprised gasp from her. Another step and she could almost detect colours. She only realised she had started to breathe quickly when her lungs began to burn, as though from great exertion. Hand pressed to her heaving chest, Em took another step.
The scent of ozone tried to gag her while she nearly hyperventilated, a vicious wind feeling like knives as it suddenly swept past her exposed flesh. Light exploded across her vision and a colossal weight seemed to drop on her, pushing her to her knees. Startled exclamations rose to her ears as she toppled forward, an oppressive force stealing her consciousness. She didn't even feel the arms wrap around her before the bite of the earth could slam into her cheek.
***
Destiny didn't know how to interpret how Sir Pietor and Lord Prichard treated Emily. Indulgence, tolerance, a genuine desire to know her mind? Destiny just didn't know, so she turned her attention instead to the question Emily had asked. Where would a wizard best employ her spell in such a vast field? Nothing Constance had written suggested a mix of elemental powers in her Great Magic, but adding the strength of nature to the attributes of magic and its flow made sense. After all, magic manipulated the natural world, so to incorporate aspects of nature into the spell would heighten the effect. Somewhere near the river then, she thought, dark blue eyes tracing the curves of the sparkling water.
&
nbsp; "There," she said, pointing to the swath of land bracketed by the stream.
"I agree," Norbert said. "The contours would bolster the power and create a focal point."
"Most easily defended and the hardest to get to if Wulfgang's forces already held the field," Lord Prichard added. "Though also a trap if they lose the advantage and get cut off, unless the water lacks depth for a swift crossing."
"Where is she going?"
This last from Sir Pietor drew their attention. Destiny noticed how the four of them had gathered close, her surly personal guard Bartok just out of arm's reach behind her. Emily had moved off after asking her question, Ambrose her ever-present shadow, and what had looked like aimless wandering now had a definite purpose as the girl arrowed toward the very spot they had just surmised.
"If she'd already known our destination," griped Norbert, "why didn't she just say so?"
"I think she figured it out while we spoke," Prichard said.
Watching the librarian shy away from nothing as she walked, Destiny had another conclusion, surprised at the concern that swelled in her breast.
"She's following the magic," she breathed, pushing herself into motion. The others quickly caught up as Destiny followed in Emily's wake. Emily had no training in the use of magic, and while she believed that growing tired and battling a headache every time she spent too long reading Constance's journal a result of the effort of translation, Destiny recognised it as the price for employing magic. Emily had had years to build up a tolerance and compensation for the Lesser Magic involving her memory; she had no such defences in place for detecting magic. The level of power Constance and her brother would have drawn upon for their Dual Great Magic would overwhelm Emily, pushing her reaction far beyond mild pain and potentially causing great harm.
The Forgotten Magic Page 17
