The (sort of) Dark Mage (Waldo Rabbit)

by Nelson Chereta

  XXX

  Melissa Cornwall was headed towards the baron’s palace. Like everywhere else the people kept their distance as soon as they spotted her white robes. She made a point to smile at them and try to let them know they had nothing to fear from her.

  Only the guilty, like the man she was hunting, had any reason to fear.

  She hoped that she would find some trace of where this so called Rabbit had run to.

  Chapter 40

  The Enemy Of My Enemy Is My Friend

  Melissa had last been in Middleton about two years ago, and had forgotten what the constant clanging was like. If she stayed here awhile the sound would fade into the background. She wasn’t planning on staying that long. Her only priority at the moment was tracking down this Waldo Rabbit before he caused any more harm to the Order’s good name.

  First things first though, she needed to announce her arrival to the local court and arrange quarters for her stay.

  XXX

  The baron’s palace was not really all that impressive. Alice had travelled all over the northern half of the Shattered Lands and had stayed with kings and dukes and other rulers. The palace was really more of a fortress. It was stuck in the low area between Ardwin Hill and Spring Hill. Just a rectangular block with a tower at each corner and a small inner courtyard. The main building was only two stories, with the outer wall about ten feet higher, and each tower ten feet more. It was all built of granite and was kept in good repair. Good enough for local nobility.

  The guards at the gate were noticeably better equipped than the men who patrolled the streets. Melissa was granted immediate entrance and escorted to a formal audience. She noticed that none of them had to rush off to inform the baron of her arrival.

  Melissa didn’t need the single guard to guide her to the audience chamber, she remembered the lay out quite well. The rooms here were not that spacious, and the furnishings not overly lavish, but they would do. She didn’t plan to spend much time in her quarters anyway.

  The audience chamber was about the size of a conference room in some of the castles Melissa had visited. The only furniture was a single gilded chair. Baron Gregorie Torrance was already seated, dressed in plate armor and with his blade belted on. He was surrounded by a dozen knights and officials

  Melissa noticed one of the faces with interest.

  “Welcome Mistress Melissa Cornwall of the Order of Mist,” the baron said. “I am most pleased to see you once more.”

  She strode up to the baron and curtsied for him. “It is a great pleasure to again be in your presence Baron Torrance. May I request lodging within your home? As well as your protection of course.”

  “Certainly,” he replied with a stiff nod. “When you left I was under the impression I would not see you again for some time.”

  “My duty brought me back sooner than expected, but I likely will not stay long. I am happy for the chance for us to be reacquainted.”

  “As am I,” he murmured as he shifted in his seat. His hand tapped restlessly on the hilt of his sword. “What sort of business has brought you back? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

  Melissa bowed her head. “That is most generous of you, but it is a very small matter that I prefer to take care of myself.” The absolute last thing she intended to announce was that there was a traitor to the order going about committing crimes.

  “Then I will leave you to settle your affairs.” He stood up. “Your old quarters will be made ready for you, and anything else you may require will be provided.”

  “You have my sincerest thanks baron. I wish upon you the blessings of unity, justice, and peace.”

  “Yes, now if you will pardon me I have much to do.”

  He wasted no time in withdrawing, and all but one of his retinue followed on his heels. Melissa soon found herself alone with a well-dressed man in a dark blue cloak.

  “It is nice to see you again John Varlos.”

  “It is also good to meet you again Melissa Cornwall.” He gave a slight, respectful nod.

  “The audience was rather short.”

  “The baron is a very busy man, the merchant houses and the guilds are always screaming for his attention.”

  “When I was staying here before he avoided me as much as he could. I think I make him nervous.”

  “I think you make all of us nervous.”

  “Should I take that as a compliment?”

  “You can if you like.”

  They both kept a healthy distance as they eyed one another cautiously.

  “We last met about, what, a year and a half ago in the capitol? What is King Leo’s spymaster doing here so far from Nodol?”

  “Spymaster?” He placed a hand to his chest and both eyebrows rose. “Mistress Melissa you exalt me far beyond my rank. I am but a humble merchant.”

  It was a wonderful performance. “A merchant who just happened to be here to greet me as soon as I arrived. You were the only one without noble blood attending the baron.”

  “The baron honors me by seeking my advice on minor matters of trade and banking.”

  Melissa nodded. “As does the king, you were a fixture at the royal court. Always standing in the background listening, ever present yet never noticed.”

  “Well you certainly noticed me, but I would expect an archmage to have a keen eye.”

  “I am just a servant to the Order and to The One We Follow.”

  He frowned. “Is that how you refer to your ruler or to one of your gods?”

  “So what are you doing here in Middleton?”

  “I am doing what I always do, selling my goods, purchasing materials, and seeking promising business opportunities. A merchant needs to travel constantly.”

  Melissa nodded. “As do spies.” She hesitated just a bit. “Have you any interesting news to share?”

  “There is always gossip. Are you concerned with any particular subject?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then how could I guess what you mind find remarkable?”

  “I am simply curious if you have heard any rumors that are especially unusual.”

  “Nothing really comes to mind.”

  “I see. Well it was just a thought.”

  There was silence as they both stood there observing the other.

  “You don’t trust me do you?” Melissa asked.

  “Mistress Melissa, I can honestly say that I trust you as much as I trust any White Mage.”

  “Which is to say not very much at all.”

  He shrugged. “I am merely a merchant; my opinion does not count for much.”

  “Your king seems to value it.”

  “You give me far too much credit.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “King Leo has many advisors, and my opinion is not unique.”

  “I am not your enemy. The Order and the Alliance are not your enemies. Your enemy wears black.”

  “My enemy, is whoever threatens my country and my king.”

  She spread her hands. “Avalon is no threat to Lothas. All we want is…”

  “Unity, justice, and peace; yes, I have heard that before, many times.”

  “It is the truth, that is all we want for the world.”

  “Even if I believed that you would still be a threat.”

  “How so?”

  “Because to achieve those noble ends you would sacrifice my homeland.”

  She shook her head. “Avalon, and every member of the Alliance, would shed its blood for you.”

  “That will be a huge comfort as the hordes of zombies overrun us. You are very far away, and Alteroth is on our southern border.”

  “Yes, poor Lothas, so far from salvation and so near Alteroth.”

  “I am sure from your point of view that is an inconvenient truth. Being a great power, Avalon can pick and choose its enemies. We do not have that luxury.”

  “There can be no peace with those who embrace evil. If you put your trust in the Dark Mages instead of us, they will swallow y
ou whole.”

  “We would be idiots to trust the Dark Mages. At least for now though, they are not a threat, they do not seek to invade our lands. If you had your way you would provoke them into attacking us. That is the last thing the king wants.”

  “They are evil and must be purged from the land. They are rotten and must be cut out. There is no other way. Soon or late there will be war.”

  “If those are the only choices then King Leo chooses late.”

  Melissa shook her head sadly. “Forgive me, but that is cowardly. Wickedness must be opposed, not tamely yielded to.”

  “That is very easy to say when it is not your people who will be butchered or your lands that will burn.”

  “King Doran of Dregal has a very different view of things. He understands the wisdom of accepting our protection and our beliefs.”

  Doran was extremely close to his advisor Ramiel and seemed to be inching his way towards joining the Alliance. That made everyone at the royal court in Nodol very nervous. It was assumed that openly joining the Alliance would provoke an invasion by Alteroth. The ruling families of Lothas, Dregal, and Wylef were all connected by blood. King Leo would be honor bound to come to Doran’s aid, which would likely mean the end of Lothas.

  “I cannot speak for King Doran, but I know that King Leo does not want to provoke our southern neighbors.”

  “Then I will pray that he gains the wisdom to understand who his friends are. Know that should he ever truly see the light we will still extend to him our benevolent support.” She turned and headed to the door. “If you will excuse me, I have had a long journey and am going to rest.”

  XXX

  As he headed home Varlos was not happy.

  Melissa’s arrival was a reminder that a day of reckoning was coming.

  The sad thing was that in many ways he respected the order and what they stood for. If he were forced to choose he would choose them over the Dark Mages. The darks were genuine evil; he had no illusions about that. For Varlos, and for his king, the problem with the White Mages was that they were trying to force them to choose. They were zealots, and in their fanaticism were pushing for a confrontation that no one here wanted. That they and their Alliance would fight he did not doubt for a moment. But if Lothas were destroyed regardless of who won, what difference did it make?

  When he returned he found a few new reports waiting for him on his desk.

  One was from an agent he had in Stratford. It related a very interesting tale about a Dark Mage and a winged monster. The monster had been a beautiful barmaid named Alice.

  Chapter 41

  What A Guy Will Do Just To Get An Ogre

  In one of the blank pages of his spellbook Waldo had written the following:

  Recipe for Love Potion

  Two servings of ground rose petals.

  Three servings of ground mandrake.

  Two pinches of sugar.

  One pinch of cinnamon.

  Two pinches of rosemary.

  Two servings of ground lotus blossoms.

  Another ingredient.

  Mix together with one cup of water and bring to boil.

  Add one succubus tear while reciting the following spell:

  ‘Est lothanos carcao, est navarro carcao, aris monk nula.’

  Will produce one dose of love potion that will enrapture any heart for a single night.

  That was what Waldo thought the recipe was. He had learned it along with many others back when he had been studying magic. The recipes for all the various potions had been written down in his spellbook, the one that was at the bottom of a river now. He had to go by memory and intuition.

  Right beneath the first notation was a second one.

  Recipe for Love Potion, Rabbit Variant

  Two servings of ground dandelions.

  Two servings of ground mandrake.

  One spoonful of honey.

  One pinch of cinnamon.

  Two pinches of rosemary.

  Two servings of ground lotus blossoms.

  One serving of ground devil’s grass.

  Mix together with one cup of water and bring to boil.

  Add two succubus tears while reciting the following spell:

  ‘Est lothanos carcao, est navarro carcao, aris monk nula.’

  Will produce something, I pray the Dark Powers, that will act like love potion for at least an hour or two.

  Magical incantations and potions were a bit like cooking recipes. If you had the necessary abilities and followed the correct process you could expect to get the same result every time. The same was true of potions and wards.

  But, as with cooking, you could make adjustments. Change a syllable here; alter an inflection there, even use a different word and you would get… something. The effect might be close to what you wanted, it could be worse or better, it could be nothing, and occasionally it could be something else entirely.

  Walter had once drawn up a summoning circle meaning to call a samalander. He made a mistake with one of the runes and somehow wound up with a talking gerbil who said his name was Ernst.

  Mages could create their own spells and potions through experimentation. The spellbooks of former masters were treasures worth killing for, largely because they often contained unique incantations found nowhere else. For the truly great ones (like his mother) it was almost expected.

  Circumstances had forced Waldo to come up with an alternate recipe.

  Alice hadn’t known of any places that sold roses and so had brought him some dandelions she had found growing in an alleyway. Mandrake and lotus blossoms had been among the ingredients he had stolen from Roger, but he’d only had enough mandrake to make two doses. Sugar was an expensive luxury and very hard to find, he had substituted the honey that the Innkeeper had brought just this morning. Cinnamon and rosemary he had, having acquired both while traveling through the forest.

  There was a seventh ingredient, Waldo was almost sure of it, but for the life of him he couldn’t recall what it was. Devil’s grass had been another of the things stolen from Roger. It contained strong magical properties and was used to strengthen the effects of other components. Since he didn’t know what was missing it seemed like a good choice as an alternate. Waldo also decided that since the potion was so far from complete that he would use two tears rather than one. Hopefully using more of the key ingredient would help make up for the other shortcomings.

  Back in the castle he’d been quite skilled at brewing potions. He was meticulous and patient and could always see the logical order in things. Unlike with his spell casting, no one had ever questioned his competence when it came to potions or wards. Of course, he always had the correct recipes in front of him. Waldo had never tried to improvise before. Given some of his wretched failures casting he had enjoyed just getting the correct result.

  “Well I guess I’ll experiment now. At least this shouldn’t accidentally poison her.” He paused to consider it. "Probably."

  With his pestle he slowly, deliberately ground up the dandelions, mandrake, lotus blossoms, and devil’s grass in the bowl. Each was emptied into the small cauldron. He filled a spoon with the thick honey, and then watched as it slowly fell. A pinch of cinnamon and two of rosemary. In went a mug of well water.

  “Pyro.”

  There was no fireplace in the room, so Waldo placed an iron pan on the floor and created a magical fire within it. He then placed the cauldron on top of the flames. With a wooden ladle he stirred to mixture together as the water heated up. Just as it began to simmer he took out the glass vial that held Alice’s tears. Ever so carefully, he let one drop fall, and then a second.

  “Est lothanos carcao, est navarro carcao, aris monk nula.”

  Waldo felt the familiar warmth of drawing forth mana. He focused on the contents inside the cauldron and let the power flow out and into them. As the arcane power was infused into the stock it boiled over. Most of it was reduced to steam and was gone. What remained was as thick and gooey as syrup, and there was about e
nough to fill a shot glass.

  He had made love potion before, and knew that when it was complete it was a very light, almost translucent, pink.

  What he had was golden yellow.

  Waldo took a clean cloth and strained it to remove the impurities. He gradually poured it into a glass vial, careful not to spill a drop. Then he pushed in a cork stopper.

  He held it in his hand and stared at it. In the afternoon light it shined like liquid gold.