A Bitter Brew

by Greg Curtis

  And yet it slowly occurred to him as the argument raged around the camp, that there might be some truth buried deep in the heart of her madness. Not about building a magic city or becoming the wizards of legend. But she was right that they did need to find a new place for themselves in the world. They needed to find their feet and learn to stand tall. And this might be a chance to do that. Once the arguments had grown quiet once more he called for their attention. It took some time to get it.

  “We came together to answer what we thought was a simple question – what are we going to do? But it turns out it’s not a simple question. It is in fact two questions..”

  “The first question is what should we – the afflicted – do? And we can't answer that. Because we aren't one people. We don't speak with one voice. In time we may have to. But this is not that time. Not yet.”

  “But the second question is what do we do – as people? Not as this group or society or race or whatever we are. But as ordinary people. People like Tyrollan and Marnie, Yalden and I. The answer to that will depend on what choices each person decides to make.”

  “Marnie has the beginnings of an idea – mixed in with the little people and the unicorns!” That drew a small round of laughter – except from Marnie of course who glared at him as if considering where best to shove the dagger.

  “We cannot build a city of magic. And we cannot become the wizards the bards keep singing of. Those are children's dreams. Bedtime stories. And if at some point we need to think about creating some sort of guild or realm for ourselves, we can do it later. Much later.”

  “But as individuals we can all become stronger than we are. And we need to be stronger. Whether we run and hide or stand and fight, we need to grow into our spells.”

  “There are two things we can do. Which we all need to do. First we can learn to use the spells we have more effectively. For me as a spectral summoner, I need to start expanding the range of creatures I can summon. I also need to practice my spells. Every day. So they come quicker and with less effort.”

  “Secondly, we can look to absorb new spells.”

  Immediately he said it there was an uproar, louder than before. Hendrick had expected it. Because what he was suggesting was possibly the most horrible thing any of them would ever have considered doing. The last thing any of the afflicted wanted was to become more afflicted. Even though it actually made no difference to them. They were already afflicted. Whether they had three spells or thirty three, they were still afflicted. That didn't change.

  It took him a while though to get that point across, even after they'd grown quiet again. But that gave him time to think. To come up with a plan.

  “We don't have to do that. Not the second part. But I think all of us need to do the first part. We already have spells, and to fail to learn to use them the best way we can is just stupid. More than that when we're facing enemies on all sides, it's madness. We're already afflicted. What would be the point in not learning to make the best possible use of our afflictions?! So that means whatever your spells are, you need to practice with them. Go to the temples and read the histories of others who have had the same spells, and learn how they used them. Who knows, maybe you'll find out that they aren't as useless as a frayed fishing line after all.”

  “But more than that we all have to become a little bit proud of our magic. Stop allowing others to think of us as afflicted. Don’t let them speak of us as such. We need to consider ourselves as blessed by the Goddess. Others may object. Some may try to push us down. They always do. And when they do we need to remind them that some of us are actually standing and fighting to protect them from this enemy. We have a right to be treated with the same respect as everyone else.”

  That of course was not an easy thing to do. And it was an even harder thing to ask of them. He saw it in their eyes. Lifetimes spent being cast out and despised were not an easy thing to put aside.

  “And for the second part I propose an idea. A plan. Two plans in sooth. The first is simple and quiet. It is for those who do not wish to be forced out into the light. But who do want to have a better chance should trouble come for them.”

  “No one can tell how many spells any of us have from our markings.” He held up his left arm to show them. “I have three spells. If I added one or two more, no one would ever know. Not unless I told them. And I would still be just as afflicted as I was before. No more, no less. Nothing would change. So lets spread that word, in secret, of this. That if they come across a fragment of the right metal, let them know that they can use it and that no one will know. Simply place the fragment over the markings you already have, and none will see. That one extra spell may well be useless. But it may also be the spell that saves your life.”

  “The second plan is bolder. It will be seen. While going from say two spells to three will be easily hidden. Those of us who choose to do more than this, will not be able to hide what we do. But I will not hide. I will walk proudly.”

  “I'm heading to Styrion Hold as are many others. And once there I will work on honing my skills. And I will let it be known that I am afflicted and that I will stand and fight.”

  “Many of you will choose to head to other towns, other cities. Some may choose to fight. Some to hide. Some of you may choose to accept more spells in secret. Some may not.”

  “But all of you can and must choose to aid me and those like me who choose to fight. There is a simple way you can do it. When you come across a fragment of one of the magic metals that you cannot or will not use for yourselves, send it to me in Styrion Hold.”

  He knew they would find such fragments. In fact, many of them probably already had. Because he had found other fragments. It was just that those he had found, he had had no use for. So he had left them alone when he'd found them. As he assumed a great many others had.

  “Spread that word to the others. Not just those who like us are afflicted. But to everyone. You don't have to touch them. No one does. Use tongs and pick them up and put them in a box. Or get someone who is afflicted with spells of a different magic metal to pick them up as they cannot be afflicted by a different metal. I and any others who choose to stand with me will accept them for you.”

  “And send this word too, to our brothers and sisters. Styrion Hold is where those who are willing will become the soldiers that the King requires. Those who choose to stand by our side, can join us there.”

  There would be few he suspected. People had despised the afflicted for all their lives. And the afflicted had learned to expect it. Changing that view would not happen quickly or easily. It might well take generations. But even the longest journey began with a single step as they said and this was a step.

  Of course, there were always some who seemed intent on disrupting everything.

  “Yes!” burst out Marnie excitedly. “Styrion Hold is where the dream of Altanis will be reborn. Where the first of the new wizards will once more roam the world!” Marnie raised her fist in the air as she announced it as if it was some sort of glorious prophecy.

  Hendrick just groaned and buried his face in his hands as the arguments immediately started again. What was wrong with the woman? She really was quite mad.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Styrion Hold. It might not be quite as tall as Styrion Might had been since it wasn't built into a hill, but as Marnie gazed upon her new home, she found herself impressed by the walls. They were far larger than those she was familiar with. And the walls in Styrion Might had proven a formidable barrier even from the inside. The battle to escape the city, even after the disastrous truce talks that had ended up breaking the back of the city military, had been tough because of them. Many of their people had died on those walls.

  Now she had to work with the very soldiers who had not long ago tried to put a musket ball in her head. She didn't like that. And even after two weeks on the trail to Styrion Hold with them, she didn't trust them. Not that they trusted her or her kind either. But the soldiers had their orders and she and th
e others had their own reasons for going to the city. So, for the moment they cooperated and kept their doubts to themselves.

  Once in the city however, things would change. She doubted though that it would be for the better.

  Hendrick had this idea that they would become some sort of magical battalion in service to the King. She did not like that idea at all. It was simply the dream of a noble born brat who thought he was better than the rest of them. Or possibly it was the dreams of one who followed Vitanna and breathed his mist. Either way he was a muck-spouting dolt.

  Most of the others she suspected didn't see themselves joining any army either. They’d had enough of fighting. But they saw the value in his idea for themselves. They might not want to go to war, but they realised that war might still come to them and they needed to be ready. More than that though, they were afflicted. Their lives were hard. There was no shortage of greedy and mean spirited people in the world who would hurt them or steal from them. Acquiring more powerful spells could help them the next time some bully attacked them or a corrupt merchant decided to rob them of what little they had by citing some trumped up law. Provided it was the right spell and no one guessed what they'd done of course.

  She however, was the only one who saw the truth. That despite all the lies told by the others, they weren't diseased. They were wizards. Perhaps they were only at the beginnings of their journey, but nonetheless they were wizards. Now they had a chance to reclaim their rightful station in the world. They could rebuild Altanis. The city of the Goddess could be reborn. And when it was done she could return to her family with pride. Now that would be a good day!

  Marnie missed her parents and sisters. She didn't completely miss the hard work on the farm, though it was actually easier than what she had experienced lately. Two weeks of marching had not been easy on her feet, though it had at least been less frightening than the weeks before that where every day she had wondered if she would live to see the end of it. But she knew she could not go back to them. Not yet. They were better off without her. She was afflicted, and after what had happened in Styrion Might, she knew that anyone who was afflicted or associated with those who were, would be distrusted. They might be cast out of the village. Worse, they could be locked up or killed.

  Growing up in Combury Marnie had suffered all the laughter and mockery of the other children at school. She had been distrusted and doubted by the teachers. The townsfolk had looked upon her with suspicion. Sometimes they pitied her which was even worse. And from time to time she had been attacked and beaten up by the bullies. But she had made it through the worst of that because of her family, as they'd kept her safe at home and away from those who would wish her harm. They'd defended her against the rest of the villagers. Now though, she feared they couldn't do that. It would only cause them trouble. She had to protect them and their best protection was her absence. They wouldn't have to try and defend her if she wasn't there.

  But when she returned, stronger than before and a wizard, things would change! First they wouldn't be able to call her a witch anymore. Her new markings would not be hidden under her clothes. They would be proudly shown. And she would protect her family – not the other way round. And perhaps some of those who had hurt her would discover fear themselves? Maybe they would learn pain.

  The sound of people calling out in surprise and alarm distracted her from her musings. Marnie turned around to look to where the commotion was coming from. It seemed to be at the back of the caravan.

  At first she couldn't see anything. That wasn't surprising when the caravan was still the best part of a league long. But she could see where people were pointing, and eventually she looked up.

  “Shite!” It was a dragon!

  But even as she thought that she knew it couldn’t be. Dragons were no more than myths. And this thing looked nothing like the golden dragon on the pennants. The head looked a little like those on the pictures of the dragons she’d seen. But the rest of it didn’t. It was something long and slender, with impossibly long arms and legs, and wings. It flew through the air like a crane-fly. It was also ghostly. Half solid, half not.

  It was the last that told her what it was. That it was one of the beast's servants. But this one was fully grown. It had to be fifty feet long. Seeing it she suddenly understood why the sage had said that its birth would kill the mother. This was not something that any human woman could survive giving birth to. No doubt the parasite had cast off the remains of its mortal mother and returned to its behemoth master for instructions.

  Shots rang out in the distance as soldiers started firing. Marnie could have told them before they pulled the triggers not to bother. If the unborn baby had been immune to fairly much anything, the fully grown one had to be tougher again. Sure enough the creature didn't even seem to notice the musket balls as it flew overhead.

  It did notice the people though, and without warning it dived down into the back of the column. People started screaming and ran in all directions. But not all were quick enough and she saw people flying through the air as the creature suddenly rose up in the air. Dozens of them were thrown in great arcs, only to fall to the ground and lie still. The creature was attacking. Actually she realised, it was hunting. People were its prey.

  It swooped down twice more as it approached, each time sending people flying in all directions as it grabbed someone to eat. And when its jaws closed on whoever it had caught, pieces of them fell to the ground from the sides of its huge maw. She could see the blood dripping from its huge maw, raining down on the grass.

  “Spread out wide and ready whatever attacking spells you have!”

  Marnie heard Hendrick give the call even as he started summoning some sort of birds. Ghostly hawk like creatures with Mithril beaks. But while they were fast and sleek, and obviously hunters of the skies, they were only a few feet long and she wondered what they could possibly do against this flying monstrosity.

  Just then it flew close enough that she could reach it with her spell of enfeeblement, and she stopped worrying about such things. She just joined the attack and sent her ray into the great beast.

  Just as when she had used it against Sana, her spell did little. Whatever the vitality was that powered these creatures, it didn't seem to be particularly affected by her magic. But she had to try. It was the only spell she had of any use. Unless the ghostly creature was actually made of wood, her spell of rot would be as much use as a blunt nail.

  Others of course did the same, sending in fireballs and blasts of ice, minor hurricanes and every other magic they had against the creature. Together they seemed to make some impact. Though not a lot She could see it wobbling in the sky as it flew, and they could turn it around. But that seemed to be little more than an annoyance to the beast.

  Suddenly the creature shrieked and nearly all the attacks ceased as people fell to the ground in agony. Marnie screamed as she went down. The pain was unimaginable. It was as though her skull was being torn apart.

  A few somehow managed to keep fighting. Hendrick's hawks kept flying seemingly unaffected by the sound. The twisters didn't stop spinning. But everywhere else people were down like her. The sound just tore through her skull. Nothing could stop it. Hands clamped over ears were useless. Even the very ground she was lying on seemed to be screaming in harmony beneath her.

  Marnie found herself helpless. All her dreams of becoming a great wizard, were dying in front of her. And all she could do was lie there on the ground, and wait to be snapped up and eaten.

  Then the hawks smashed into the beast. There were only five of them but they struck at its head and great long neck, ripping into it with their talons, and pecking at its eyes and the moment they did so the shrieking stopped

  The relief as the silence filled her head was indescribable. But better still, was the sense of victory she felt when she realised that the spectral hawks were doing some serious damage to the creature. She could see chunks of its ghostly flesh falling off it as it flew, smashing into the ground
in a refreshingly solid way. Marnie celebrated as she watched the creature being expertly picked apart.

  In time she even managed to find her feet again, and sent her ray streaming back into its ghostly flesh. Though it didn't seem to bother the ghostly dragon much, Marnie felt the need to do something.

  The beast struggled and tried to fling the hawks off as it flew, but no matter what it did it couldn't seem to bite them as it wanted to. Not when they were on its head and neck. Even as flexible as it was it still couldn't twist that head around far enough to reach them. Marnie yelled out in triumph when she saw that. And again when she saw Hendrick summoning more of them.

  And then while it was struggling she saw a pair of silver scythes streak out and slice right through the creature's tail before they soared off into the sky. That, when it hit the ground, sounded like a cannon exploding.

  The creature screamed in pain. But at least it wasn’t a shriek, and the chances were that by then it had lost its voice. The hawks were opening up its maw, widening the already massive mouth all the way to the back of its head. And when they were finished, she knew half its head would fall off and it would die. She hoped.