More than a Wizard

by M. Lee Madder

  Ornately carved chests and tables and chairs filled the room. Rich curtains drawn against drafts blocked the wooden shutters. More rich velvets covered the tables and chairs. Shiny brass and glittering glass represented Hardraste’s wealth, amassed with the Prime’s aid. Bile burned her throat.

  “Stand here,” Katya ordered. She poured herself wine then perched on a chair beside a brazier. She sipped once, then again.

  But Corrie saw how her eyes darted about, saw how she could not lean back in the chair. Katya was not just nervous; she seemed scared.

  The curtains muffled the footsteps on the stairs. Then Snossi and Raicha came in.

  The woman laughed. “Enstigorr’s prize is returned.”

  Corrie drew herself a little taller. She knew every bit of grime on her face and hands, on her clothes, on her body while Raicha glittered in heavy velvet trimmed with silver lacework. Her hair was unmanageably short while the woman’s long tresses flowed in silver gilt waves down her back. “You did ever state the obvious, Raicha.”

  “Sharp-tongued and rebellious as ever. That won’t last. He will delight in turning you.”

  She flicked a glance at Snossi, his pale blonde hair tufted over his head. “I see he tamed Snossi in the very way Snossi tried to tame me.”

  Raicha’s arm flashed up. In her hand glittered a knife, slender, delicate, lethal. Then she laughed. “Pour us wine, lover. I want to drink to the return of Enstigorr’s prize. And then we shall drink to the hour he discovers she is not the prize he believes he has found.”

  She whirled away while Snossi obeyed her demand.

  As the woman walked to her companion wizard, Corrie realized she could sense their power, much as she could sense the ground-troll hunkered beneath the castle’s foundations. She could sense Katya, a little stream running beneath the two rivers deep with power, the muddy torrent that was Raicha, the sluggish murk that was Snossi. Mannemous’ power was a swift clean rush of water. She stared at the spell cords that should have blocked anything to do with power and had not—though Mannemous had cringed to touch them and Katya had avoided all contact.

  And Enstigorr prized her.

  For the first time Corrie began to believe she was a bane wizard.

  Katya recounted, with sweeping omissions, how she had located Corrie.

  She opened her hand and peeked at Sverr’s gift. A bead. Glacial blue and light-reflecting. Smooth, circular. Filled with power.

  She fisted her hand and stood still, trying to look defeated and hopeless while hope rushed through her.

  The wizards were trying to run Katya off.

  “I’m to stay and watch her,” she protested. “I am promised a reward for returning her without injury.”

  “And you shall receive that reward,” Raicha reassured her. “But you need not stay. You will not want to answer all of Enstigorr’s questions.”

  “First one,” Snossi said, “why did you not ride day and night to return her? She could have been here in half the time.”

  “And what of this hill witch and Norther who returned with you?” Raicha pointed out with false sweetness. “If they put the spell cords on her, surely they have most credit for returning her? What, after all, did you do, little wizard? Do the guards not receive equal credit with you?”

  “Something havey-cavey,” Snossi added. “Seems you’re lying about the credit due you.”

  Katya’s wide-eyed gaze shifted between the wizards.

  “But if you are not here to answer such questions,” Raicha drew out her trump card, “then the Prime will not ask them.”

  “You will get your reward, girl. Best clear off now. We’ll give your name at the right time.”

  Katya hesitated. Heavy steps in a passageway decided her. She bolted.

  A servant slipped past the curtain. “Shall I bring tea here, Lady Raicha?”

  “Of course. Two cups.”

  When the servant retreated, Snossi complimented her. “That was well done, my dear. We don’t need her distracting Enstigorr.”

  “The Prime would never allow a distraction from his primary goal.”

  And Corrie felt hollow.

  “Katya is well out of it,” Raicha continued. “Even Omonte thinks so. She thinks too highly of her place here.”

  “You certainly put her back on her level. I thought she would piss herself.”

  “She is a fool, showing herself here at the same time as this fool. The Prime remembers her escape. He will remember the lie Katya tried to tell.”

  The servant returned with a heavy tray laded for tea. Behind him came another servant with a tray of food. Corrie’s stomach remembered it hadn’t eaten since morning and reminded her loudly enough for the two wizards to hear.

  The woman sniffed. “Bring water for the Prime’s prize.” She poured tea and handed one cup to Snossi. He inhaled the steam.

  Corrie could smell the tea, could sense how hot it would be. She stood far from a brazier. The occasional draft through the curtains caused shivers.

  With the servants gone, Snossi said, “Enstigorr knew that the fool girl lied the moment she spoke. She didn’t have enough power to take credit for that escape.”

  Raicha wagged a finger. “He could not be certain they had not linked power.”

  “Dreilldah spilled that, my dear. She hadn’t wit enough left to lie. The whole of the spell was on this one.” He eyed Corrie then shook his head. “You did excellent knife work. A pity Katya had already managed to work her bargain. I would have enjoyed another toy.”

  “All I care is that Enstigorr will remember her lie. He will remember her tricksy bargain. He will remember her power is basically worthless, little more than a witch’s. Better for us, lover, if he saves those remembrances for when they will serve us than waste them on a quick death when no one can benefit. Watercress, lover, or celery and dill?”

  A servant brought Corrie a cup of water. It didn’t slake her thirst and was gone before the servant disappeared, leaving her with a still-parched mouth and throat.

  Corrie listened to their casual evil and tried to control her fear. Enstigorr was a hundred-times worse. He understood the pain he caused; he didn’t care. He understood the destruction he wielded; he destroyed anyway.

  She was hungry but too revolted to ask for food. They would not have fed her anyway. They would laugh and say she’d only vomit it up when Enstigorr gave her the first lash of deep bloody pain. They would be right.

  They dined leisurely and talked casually of their day. She tried not to listen, then Snossi said, “The Norther.”

  Were they talking about Sverr? Or Brom?

  She had missed what came before. Their desultory comments did not answer her apprehension for the solid minute that her thoughts raced. Her worry increased to fear, yet she kept her gaze lowered and her reactions minimal.

  “Omonte says he has more questions for him.”

  “Snossi, the man has been in the cells for a moon! Omonte cannot still have questions.”

  Not Sverr. His brother. For some reason Omonte had kept him out of the deeper cells and away from the particular tortures that Snossi and Raicha enjoyed.

  “You can ask the Prime—.”

  “He will laugh at my eagerness. Then he will ignore my request because he will be focused on her. And Omonte will keep the Norther longer.”

  “He is distracted,” the Bone Wearer excused his fellow wizard. “Every time he gets deep into an interrogation, new witches come in. He must question them for news of her.”

  Raicha glared. “She has much to answer for.” She rose and advanced on Corrie.

  She braced herself, hoping the woman feared Enstigorr too much to injure her.

  Snossi followed. As Raicha planted herself before Corrie, he circled behind her. He grabbed her hair and twisted the short length. “Her hair has grown. He shaves me weekly.”

  “He will stop that punishment now she is returned.”

  He jerked Corrie’s hair. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she s
wallowed all sound. “I hope he tires of you quickly, little wizard. I will ask for you. I will shave all your hair, and then I will peel off strips of your skin. From your thighs. From your belly. From your breasts.”

  His power flared. “Be careful,” Raicha warned. “Do not give him another reason—.”

  Corrie opened her eyes wide. “Did he blame you, Snossi, for my escape? Did he think I ran because you snipped my hair short? How much did he punish you?”

  He used his grip on her hair to fling her to one side. She landed against a table. It tilted to the floor with her. The glass vase shattered, and water and flowers joined the glittery fragments on the carpet. The woman murmured to her lover, but power still seethed. She levered herself around to watch the couple, but she kept to the safety of the floor.

  The boiling power abated. Snossi stalked away. Raicha faced Corrie. “You are a fool.”

  “Admittedly, for I find myself a second time in Enstigorr’s clutches. How many torturers do I have to expect when he tires of me?”

  “All of us, even Arne.”

  “I did not encounter Arne. Why would Enstigorr—?”

  “He raged when you . . . escaped. He claimed we threatened you and drove you to flight—while he was the one using you for his blood spells. And then you eluded him for months. How did you do it? He had guards scouring for you everywhere. And he swung between proud and angry, continually angry. Would you like to see the marks he gave to me?”

  “I would rather they were a shock,” and her retort surprised a bark of laughter from the woman.

  “I see in a small way his fascination with you. Omonte claimed your power ran deep. Should I believe him? I can sense nothing past the binding cords.”

  Before she could stop herself, Corrie lifted her head, letting Raicha see her eyes with their flashing power. So, the cords blocked them from reading her power. Yet she could sense theirs. She reached for the drogger. He waited, patient, ready. She wondered if it were yet darkfall.

  Raicha drew the wicked little knife from earlier, a long slim blade like a fisherman’s fillet. “I think you need a taste of pain. Snossi would appreciate it. And I will enjoy it. Perhaps you will finally learn a lesson.”

  “Perhaps you will learn your own lesson,” a male voice said.

  Corrie flinched and ducked her head.

  Raicha backed up. The thin knife disappeared. “Prime! I would not have hurt her. Neither of us would have. We know she is your personal prize.”

  “You have no idea of her importance. If you did, you would not even contemplate torturing her.”

  “We didn’t—,” Snossi started only to quail when Enstigorr flung out a hand.

  Corrie sensed a lash of power, a second one, and she was no longer the only one on the floor. The wicked little knife glittered on the carpet.

  The Prime crossed the room with his long stride. She continued looking down when he stopped before her. He bent. Long fingers curled around her arms and bit into her flesh as he lifted her to her feet.

  “Submission does not suit you, Corrie.”

  She flashed him fulminating look. He laughed.

  Two guards had entered after him. They stood back, arms folded, watching the scene without flickering an eyelid. They framed the curtained doorway that led to his tower. Yet she had nothing but a glance for them. The Prime had all her attention.

  Enstigorr was old, as old as Mannemous, older, yet like the bane witch he wore his years easily. He would have been a striking man if she did not fear him so much. His flesh might be failing, but the spark remained undimmed in his muddy eyes. Silver hair worn loose, past his shoulders, his only vanity. Lines crinkled around his eyes and bracketed his mouth. Age spots mottled his skin, and large bruises showed where damage had been held back. Sharp bones in his face, the sharper ones of his collarbones, and the sharp delineation of his sternum and ribs marching down his torso revealed that only skin covered his body; the flesh had worn away.

  And she knew only his dark spells hid the corruption of his body.

  He released her, and the ice that had spread from his fingers into her arms ebbed away.

  The Prime turned to the two of his hand still crouched on the floor.

  “We would not hurt your prize,” Raicha assured him. Corrie felt the oppressive power weighing down on the wizards. The woman’s pale face, clammy with sweat, revealed her fear. “We just wanted her to be too afraid to escape again.”

  “By promising her torture? You have no idea what she is, do you? You focus on your petty grievances and look no further.”

  “We brought her back to you.”

  “That’s a lie,” Corrie snapped. “A swordsman and a hill witch tricked these cords onto me. Katya escorted me to this room.”

  Enstigorr glanced at her. “Tsk. A mere hill witch tricked you? Are you still afraid of your own powers, Corrie my pet? We must help you overcome that. My way.” He looked at the two on the floor. “Not theirs.”

  “I swear,” Snossi whined, “threats only.”

  “Is that another lie? Your second lie to me?”

  “No, Prime, no. We do not lie.”

  “Yet you have. My pet attests to Katya’s statement to me, and Omonte reports the same. You two have lied. Again. When will you learn? Leave me.”

  “Prime—.”

  “No.” The single word crashed into the room. Corrie hunched away from it. Enstigorr considered the two, half of his hand. “I understand your anger. You may know that my punishments of you for Corrie’s escape are lifted. This is, perhaps, not enough to give you reparation for the pain you suffered. I give you Katya. I trust she will last long enough to fill your belly with the revenge you need. Now go.”

  “Aye, Prime. We thank you, Prime.” Snossi scrambled to his feet and away.

  “We remain loyal to you, Prime.” Raicha turned—and seized up.

  Enstigorr lifted his right hand, closed in a fist. “Raicha, what question do you raise? Is your loyalty to me at risk?”

  “No, no, Prime. I misspoke. I only wanted to reassure you.”

  “Yet you bring up loyalty. As if you have thought of betrayal. As if you have considered betrayal.”

  “No, Prime.” Her voice shook. She could not straighten. “Never would I betray you. I am one of your hand. I would never want to be other than loyal to you.”

  “One of my hand, aye,” he repeated, his voice silky, at his most dangerous. “Loyal to me—until my back is turned. Do you and Snossi think to rise against me?”

  “No, Prime.” She struggled to choke out the words, and Corrie saw Enstigorr’s left hand was half-closed.

  “No, Prime,” Snossi chimed after her. He stood at the top of the stair. Missing Raicha, he had returned for her, and now added his support. “We serve you. We only want to serve you. We have never thought or considered anything but our loyalty to you. We are nothing without you.”

  “Perhaps I should return you to nothing. Have you forgotten how easily I can strip away a wizard’s power? Yet you consider betrayal.”

  “No, Prime, no. Never,” they hastened to say.

  “You would have me believe you accepted all my punishments of you, for Corrie’s escape, with never a thought of vengeance against me?”

  “We would never rise against you, Prime. We could not. We are nothing without you.”

  He glared. Then a twist of his hand freed Raicha. She stumbled forward as her body loosened. Snossi caught her.

  “Thank you, Prime. We will go now.”

  He laughed. “Aye, you are in a great hurry now. Enjoy your time with Katya.” They hurried out. Enstigorr looked at the broken glass and upended table. Then he eyed Corrie. “They surprise me again. Raicha is often the mouthpiece, but Snossi defended her very well, didn’t he?”

  “Why did you give them Katya? She believes she will be rewarded.”

  “She is—for her lies. Her lies cost me a month of looking for you, a month you spent running farther away. Then she thinks to bargain with me t
o a better position.” He stepped around the mess and went to the wine board.

  “She did what you required. She brought me back.”

  “I thought a hill witch and a swordsman did that.” Corrie bit her lip on a retort. Enstigorr drained the wine and poured more. “Do not try to save her,” he advised. “She was lost the moment she offered a bargain. Will you bargain with me, Corrie my pet?”

  “No. I hold no trump card, Enstigorr. I have nothing to bargain with.”

  “Wise of you to realize that, my pet. You are mine. The sooner you realize that, the better off you shall be.”

  “What will you do with the hill witch and the swordsman?”

  “You wish to punish them?” He sipped the second glass of wine then licked a droplet from his thin lips. “They are already being punished, through Omonte. They wanted to exchange you for a wizard named Brom. Omonte has placed them in Brom’s cell. I cannot release him yet; I have not broken him. They will have all concourse with Brom that they wish, sitting all together in my cell.”

  He had walked back to her. He offered her the wine. She shook her head. “I will just throw it back up.”

  “Yes, that does occur. I like this Brom. He reminds me of you. Stubborn. Clever. Rash. When I break him, he will make a good replacement for Raicha.”

  She gasped.

  He laughed. “She has thought of betrayal and lied about it. She will not rest now until she has tried it.”

  “Am I not to be a replacement for her?”

  He cupped her face, long bony fingers icing her cheeks. “Ah, now, my pet, you will complete my hand.” He turned away. Draining the goblet, he dashed it to the ground. It broke, joining the other glass shards on the floor. “Take her upstairs. Chain her to the wall before you remove the binding cords.”

  Chapter 16

  The guards were callously efficient. They obeyed Enstigorr’s exact command then stepped back and returned to their unwinking stance by the door. The Prime did not immediately follow, and Corrie wondered what delayed him in his renewed attempt to break her will.