Arcanist

by Terry Mancour

  When I stepped off the bottom step and into the main hall, I was surprised to see two visitors sitting and drinking in front of the cold fireplace. I hadn’t expected to find anyone here, save the skeleton staff that remained after all able warriors had been called to the front. But two of the comfortable chairs were occupied by Jannik and my arcanist, Heeth.

  “Gentlemen?” I said, part greeting and part question. “I wasn’t expecting you, was I?”

  “You’d be a better mage than you are if you did,” conceded Heeth. “No, I came to drop off a scroll detailing my recent findings and happened to run into this fine fellow,” he said, raising his glass to the bard.

  “And I came by with a fresh intelligence report, when I saw this clearly educated gentleman wandering around the grounds,” Jannik supplied. “As you were absent, I took it upon myself to act as host and engage in a little hospitality. With your liquor,” he added. “Once we had a third companion, it seemed an excellent excuse to converse and while away a few hours in our otherwise stressful day.”

  “A third?” I asked, confused. “Who else is squatting in my tower?”

  “I hesitate to call it squatting, Minalan,” the familiar voice of Forseti called, as a little contraption rolled out from behind Jannik’s chair. “It was a valuable social exchange of ideas and knowledge.”

  It was the thing we’d discovered in Iron Hill’s cavern, the ancient device that had intrigued Lilastien so much. It rolled on its six little wheels with alacrity, nimbly avoiding the foot stool Jannik was using.

  “Forseti?” I asked, uncertainly.

  “Indeed,” the machine agreed. “Gareth helped attach my main processor to the chassis of this drone. Ordinarily, that’s an extreme measure involving diagnostics or programming. However, in this instance I was able to connect to the unit’s power supply and have successfully regenerated a portion of my capacity. In addition, the unit’s sensor array finally allows me multiple data inputs,” Forseti informed me with what I might mistake as pride. “I can now see the things that you have described to me, among other benefits.” The machine rolled forward and I noted that there was a bottle and two more small glasses on its back.

  I sighed. I really didn’t need this kind of distraction, I knew. I was on my way to a battle. Yet the collection of interesting people in my hall was so compelling that I found a third chair and sat. I could spare an hour, I figured.

  “So, what have you learned that you did not know when you were blind?” I asked, genuinely curious about the answer.

  “That the colony was, in large part, successful in establishing a viable and sustainable culture,” Forseti answered. I don’t know how, but the previously tinny voice of the construct was louder and deeper in timbre. “And that the human evolved response to the planetary quantum field effect is every bit as developed as you suggested.”

  “I think he’s talking about magic,” Jannik suggested, as he swallowed the last of his spirits.

  “He’s decidedly talking about magic,” agreed Heeth. “In a particularly obscure manner. That’s good to hear, considering it’s my life’s work.”

  “Few in the original colony thought that much would arise from the effect,” Forseti lectured. “In fact, it was considered a minor, localized phenomenon that humanity would never connect with, much less perfect as a discipline. I also learned that this drone continued to collect data on its route until seventy-eight years after settlement. I have a complete record of the rise of biological specimens that thrived in this region.”

  “Yes, I can see how years of counting squirrels and flowers would be incredibly valuable,” Jannik said, sarcastically.

  “I’m certain the transformation of this world was intensely interesting,” Heeth said, diplomatically. “But the greatest advantage for our mechanical friend’s new attire is the fact that he can get out of that godsdamn cave you had him in, Minalan. This is far more convenient,” he said, raising his glass in salute. “The drink is better, too.”

  “It has also allowed me to restore some of my secondary functioning and increase my interaction significantly,” Forseti reported. “I believe I can be far more useful in this configuration.”

  “Let us find out,” Jannik mused. “We were just discussing the current situation and how to contend with it. Our well-wheeled friend, here, believes that there might be solutions within our ancient past that could apply.”

  “With which I completely agree,” nodded Heeth. “Our civilization lost most of our institutional knowledge after the Inundation of Perwyn. We know our ancestors had insight and power that we can only mimic with magic. Flight, for example,” he proposed. “Our ancestors were Sky Lords. They had the ability to take to the air and move at incredible speeds. The craft they used were amazing feats of science,” he said, with open admiration. “Gareth and I have had long discussions about that. He believes we could recapture some of that knowledge, which could be incredibly useful.”

  “We already have birds,” Jannik said, shaking his head.

  “Our giant falcons cannot ordinarily carry more than a single person,” objected Heeth. “That limits their usefulness. Our ancestors’ craft could carry hundreds of people at a time. And tons of cargo. I’ve done a lot of research into the early settlement period, and it was clear that the greatest of the sky ships was larger than most of our sea-worthy variety.”

  “The New Horizon was equipped with six heavy shuttles,” reported Forseti, helpfully. “Each was capable of carrying up to three hundred eighty passengers or up to three hundred forty tons of cargo. They were rated for orbital insertion, point-to-point transport and interplanetary travel. In addition, there were over four hundred smaller craft, some of a highly specialized nature, that were included in the original colony. Daimler Himmel Corporation began manufacturing smaller electrogravitic vehicles at the Stavoren plant on Perwyn twenty-one years after the colony’s founding.”

  “None of which have survived,” Jannik observed. “So that’s hardly useful.”

  “It is,” Heeth insisted. “And we don’t know that none of them survived. That knowledge still exists, somewhere in the world. Forseti has explained the basic concepts and says he could design a simple craft that could fly. Nothing with the capabilities of the Ancients’ craft, but it would be a start.”

  “As helpful as my recent upgrade has been,” the machine agreed, “it lacks output devices that allow me to share graphic depictions that would be essential in such an experiment. I am hopeful that further discoveries of surviving equipment will rectify that.”

  “We’re a little busy to be searching out ancient ruins, right now,” I explained. “We’re in the middle of another war, and one that is . . . well, it’s not going as well as we’d hoped. On that subject I would welcome your insights, Forseti,” I proposed. “Is there anything in your memories that would have an immediate effect on our victory?”

  “Without substantially more data on the conditions it would be difficult to advise you, I’m afraid,” the machine said. “Unfortunately, military tactics and combat scenarios were not part of my primary or secondary functions. Particularly archaic military tactics against an alien army.”

  “The Ancients had a much different approach to such things, thanks to their tekka,” Heeth agreed. “They didn’t go hacking at each other with swords and axes and lances. They shot each other with sophisticated tekka weaponry like gentlemen.”

  “There are no gentlemen in Shakathet’s horde,” I said, shaking my head. “There are Enshadowed sorcerers and Nemovorti, siege worms and trolls. And they are crushing our castles like toys. Terleman has ordered a regrouping in the hopes of luring Shakathet into a field battle, but I’m concerned about our chances even then,” I informed them, sadly. “I go from here back into battle.”

  “You don’t sound hopeful,” Jannik observed.

  “I’m hopeful, but I’m also realistic. Nor does it appear if the wisdom of the Ancients is going to make a difference in the outcome. Things could
go very, very amiss, if we are unlucky,” I admitted.

  “But you’re hopeful,” Jannik smirked.

  “I don’t really have much choice. But our army is strong, well-armed and largely intact, thus far. Our commanders have done well, under the circumstances. And we have made some important gains, such as capturing a number of Enshadowed witchstones. They’re larger and more deadly than ours, by design. They could prove very helpful in the coming struggle.”

  “Be careful with those things, Minalan,” warned Heeth. “Very little is known about the Enshadowed, because the Alka Alon are ashamed of them and don’t like to tell us much about them. But what we do know indicates that they were real bastards and adept at warfare. A relatively small number of Enshadowed was able to stand up to the combined might of the three kindreds,” he reminded me. “For centuries. And even after they were crushed, they lingered in the deep places and plotted until they were ready. Their weapons might be powerful, but they could also be dangerous for us to use.”

  “Ah, the pretty jewels of the ugly Alka Alon,” mused Jannik. “They ever delighted in waving those things under everyone’s nose, back in the Penumbra. They didn’t hesitate to use them, either. That’s what broke the power of the urgulnosti shamans and send King Ashakarl into exile. I hated those arrogant bastards.”

  “Well, I’m facing those arrogant, powerful bastards in the field, now,” I pointed out. “And their spellcraft lives up to its reputation, I’m afraid.”

  “They are not without their weaknesses,” Heeth considered. “According to some of the epics, the Enshadowed sorcerers were greatly empowered by their irionite, but the price of using was that it cut them off from the consensus, whatever that means.”

  “They must be speaking about the group entrainment effect that the Alon manifest,” I proposed. “That is interesting. That much power must overwhelm their natural ability to form whatever kind of gestalt they use. Perhaps I can make use of that.”

  “It doesn’t stop them from domineering their own troops,” Heeth warned. “Indeed, I think that’s part of the design. But without one to study, it would be difficult to establish the mechanism for one sort of consensus over the other.”

  “I’ll see if I can pick one up on the battlefield, assuming I survive,” I said, dryly.

  “Could you?” Heeth asked, ignoring my sarcasm. “That would be helpful.”

  “Yes, and could you make the battle a little more interesting, while you’re at it?” Jannik added. “Have the foe used the secret weapon that our chandler friend told us about?”

  “Thankfully, no, or Megelin Castle likely would have fallen, already. From what he said it moves slowly. But if he speaks truthfully, when it arrives then I would imagine that things will get quite a bit more interesting,” I reminded him, darkly.

  “That would be excellent,” Jannik said, unconcerned about the potential destruction it would cause. “It will help with the propaganda if there was something really special about it. Or spice up your eulogy, if things don’t go well. I mean, garden variety valor is so very banal, at this point.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I said, standing and stretching. “As lovely a diversion as this is, gentlemen, I have some garden variety valor to put in for the war effort. I’ll let you know if I survive. Do try to leave some spirits for me, if I do.”

  “I make no promises,” Jannik said, pouring himself another glass. “You have exquisite taste in liquor.”

  “I suggest you depart immediately, before the rain begins,” Forseti recommended.

  “Rain?” I asked, curiously.

  “Yes, this new unit is limited in its field of observation, but it does have an adequate sensor array for collecting geophysical data, including temperature, humidity, barometric pressure, and others means of making weather observations. When comparing the current data with a historical review, it would appear that there is a likely chance of a long period of precipitation in the near future. Within the next four to six days, depending on the system.”

  “Ah, yes, it is about the time of year for the cloud soakers,” Jannik agreed. “After the spring floods, there’s nothing like a week of rain to raise one’s spirits. It does help the crops, though,” he conceded. “Not so much the traveling to the next venue.”

  “That’s . . . that’s actually very interesting,” I said, suddenly struck with an idea. “In fact, that might be the most interesting thing to come from this conversation. Farewell, gentlemen, I must return to Megelin Castle for a brief conversation with Terleman, before I return to the field. Do enjoy the drinks.”

  “That sounds like a sovereign command to me,” Jannik said, refilling each glass from the decanter. “Oh, look, I poured one for Forseti. I suppose I shall just have to enjoy it on his behalf.”

  ***

  I exited the Ways near Astyral, whose stone I’d used to make the journey. He was encamped in a small vale about three ridges over from the exit of the Iron Hill tunnel, among the castle’s infantry he’d recruited to make the march. They didn’t look particularly happy about it, as they made preparations for a journey that might well lead to their demise. I knew that look. I’d worn it myself while marching down the Farisian peninsula.

  Astyral didn’t have that expression; indeed, the Baron of Losara seemed well at-ease in his campaign tent. It was one of only a few that had appeared, but that was more than I expected. Many of the warmagi had them, I saw, free-standing canopies they carried in hoxter pockets for such occasions – though nowhere near as sophisticated as mine. A grand canopy that you didn’t have to carry had become a popular enchantment at the bouleuterion.

  “Welcome back, Minalan,” he called, pleasantly, as an Iron Bandsman brought him a trencher of food. “We’re just having dinner, before we set off. The fellows aren’t looking forward to a forced march at night, but they would rather not get discovered by the army that’s pillaging the ruins of Iron Hill Castle, so we’ll be departing at dusk.”

  “Not a moment too soon,” I said, drawing a campaign chair out of my own collection of hoxters in my baculus. “I’ve just returned from Megelin, and Terleman, where we hashed out a decent plan,” I said, and then described the short but intense discussion that resulted in the alteration of his original plan. “He’s convinced that if we choose the right battlefield, that we can make our smaller numbers less of a factor in the outcome.”

  “I love it how Terl considers piles of dead and acres of wounded to be ‘factors in the outcome’,” Astyral chuckled. “I suppose you have to, to do what he does. You’ll be happy to hear that all twenty-eight hundred civilians departed at noon, laden with all of Iron Peg’s stores and treasures, headed for Bramman Tor with an escort of a hundred infantry. I sent Buroso along with them, as well as a few of the other warmagi. They will keep interfering with the enemy’s scrying to obscure them along the way. I’m hopeful of their chances. Ours,” he said, indicating the infantry around us, “I’m not as certain.”

  “We have as good a chance as we ever get,” I shrugged. “Already there are forces at work that aren’t apparent. On both sides. It gets a little confusing, actually. But I think a few days of marching will help clear our heads. We’ll be joining a few units along the way, and Carmella or one of her deputies will meet us at the other end of the march. She will be leading the Tower companies,” I explained.

  “And bring a great many new toys to play with on the battlefield, too, I wonder. She dresses like a sloppy artisan, but I can’t fault her craft. For our part, we have nearly thirty warmagi in our little unit, now, and a few of them are extremely pissed off, after being abducted and held in the mines. And I am so looking forward to trying out my new bauble,” he said, displaying the thick sphere of irionite on his palm.

  “You’ve been studying it?” I asked, curiously.

  “I’ve been exploring it, while you were gone. Landrik and I have been comparing notes about our new baubles. It’s absolutely amazing,” he assured me, staring into its depths with unres
trained fascination. “There are levels of sophistication in this stone that are unmatched by what I’ve seen of the Alka Alon’s work. Songspells? This jewel could shatter a mere songspell with a thought. I’m still learning what the base symbology represents, but its far less organic and more orderly than typical Alka Alon magic.”

  “Heeth the Butler wants me to remind you that strange magical artefacts captured from our enemies might be dangerous to dabble with,” I mentioned. “It has occasionally led to cataclysmic consequences, long quests and evil dark lords, according to lore.”

  “Heeth the Butler can fetch me a drink of his maiden aunt’s prized pomegranate punch and keep his lore and his opinions to himself,” dismissed Astyral. “Even the Seven Stones you gave to your best people are no match for these. These are designed to be weapons, first and foremost. And I never dabble,” he assured.

  “You’ll have the chance to prove it, in a few days,” I smiled. “Even after we join with the reserves, we’re going to be outnumbered. We’ll need every warmage on the field. Speaking of which, I have it on good authority that Count Anvaram has arrived at Vorone with his army,” I informed him. “It seems he has made good on his pledge to invade the Magelaw to rescue your fiancée from you.”

  “The old bastard actually came? And made it all the way to Vorone?” snorted Astyral, amused and impressed. “You really got to him, Minalan. Even though Maithieran wasn’t in Losara, he insisted on burning a few villages on his way through, just to be spiteful. I never thought he’d make it as far as Northern Gilmora.”

  “It’s taken everything I can do to get him that far. I’ve done everything but lead his horse for him,” I chuckled. “Planus, Ruderal and Atopol are shadowing them, and passing along reports. They say he’ll lead his army out of Vorone in the next day or so.”

  “Ah, vengeance!” Astyral sighed. “It’s quite flattering, in its way. An entire army raised to punish . . . me! It’s enough to make a man have an inflated sense of his own importance. How do you deal with it, Minalan?” he asked, semiseriously.