"I have a proposal for the Wizard Guild," answered the Witch boldly in a voice that seemed to command an unearthly power, even to Falignus.
He found himself lingering on the beauty of that voice. It seemed to cloud his thoughts.
He had been warned about the Witch’s voice by Zaringer. It was said to have the power to control men’s minds.
With a quick gesture of his hand, Falignus cast a small spell of warding which he had prepared prior to the scrying session. It distorted his hearing magically. He hoped that it would prevent the spell of the Witch’s voice from affecting him.
"I am listening."
"We both seem to have a common problem."
"Is that so? I'm not sure I understand."
"Oh you understand," stated the Witch commandingly, her voice booming in his ears, even through Falignus’ warding spell. "Your people were bloodied by this particular problem not six days ago."
Falignus decided to indulge her haughty tone, which he found strongly compelling, but well within his capability to resist.
"Better that she underestimates me," he thought.
He replied mildly. "It is true–there was an incident with one of these savage villages and one of my harvesting teams. It is being dealt with."
"Is it?" the Witch challenged, but in a less imperious tone.
"What have we to fear from these... Tanna Varrans?"
"Perhaps more than you understand."
"Explain."
"They are passive now. Our peace treaty has bred some of their aggression out of the younger generations. But this is a people that we have fought for centuries before the sundering, when our land crossed the veil and was bound to the City. Do not underestimate them."
"Interesting. They will be managed. We will not have to confront them en masse."
"These city dwellers that they harbor–that is your concern then?"
Falignus was impressed and he didn't bother to conceal it. "Yes, you are well informed."
"You believe that they are the reason for your difficulties with the Tanna Varrans, but I am telling you that the Tanna Varrans are also a force to be reckoned with. Tell me of the city dwellers."
"They are renegades; a renegade wizard and his companions."
"I know that they are powerful. They have slain an ancient ally of mine, and there are few in these lands that could have accomplished that. I will not underestimate these Renegades as you do the Tanna Varrans. Do you think that they might find some common ground with one another?"
Falignus paused to think a moment. "So you believe that the Renegades might find a willing ally in these savages?"
"Yes, I do. Certain events have transpired. I was surprised by the Renegades as I spied on the Tanna Varrans. I was forced to slay one of the Tanna Varrans during my escape. Knowing their history, and especially in light of the foolhardy attack launched by your wizards on their town, I believe that they will now prepare for war. They consider us both enemies now, and the Renegades are their natural allies."
"Thus making us natural allies."
"Yes."
Falignus considered her words. He had not seen the Tanna Varrans as a threat in his prescient visions, yet according to the Witch, perhaps they had not been at that time.
Could I have misread them like I did these companions of Gwineval’s?
"We must strike them together. After we win the battle, the rest of the Tanna Varran towns will fall soon after. Then we will be rid of them, and free to build more harvesting obelisks in the valleys and caves," the Witch continued.
"It seems that the Tanna Varrans are more of an obstacle for you than for us. We are aware that the most powerful spirits are drawn to the hilltops, resulting in the richest Oberon harvest points being located there. The valleys and caverns would not be rich harvesting sites in comparison," replied Falignus challengingly.
A flash of anger played over the Witches features. "The Tanna Varrans are a fighting force that your Renegades could muster–could use against you. Can you risk that?"
"You counterbalance them–they cannot strike out in force without being vulnerable to you."
"True enough, but I am guessing that with the help of these Renegades, the Tanna Varrans might be powerful enough to attack me. Perhaps they could defeat me first and then turn their attention to you? Does that potential concern you?"
"Perhaps," he replied. He considered her words.
What if she is right? An army led by Gwineval and equipped with whatever veiled magical force that he may soon wield could threaten the Wizard Guild.
"What exactly are you proposing?" he responded aloud.
"We must gather our forces and siege their town in concert. I will immediately interdict their town and keep an eye out for the Renegades. If they move, I will know it, and therefore you will know it. The Tanna Varrans will believe that their Town represents their best chance for defense, and they will count on me to attack in anger. They will persuade the Renegades to remain to help them defend themselves, thinking to deal with us in detail. We will surprise them, attack together and shatter their defenses," explained the Witch.
Falignus thought about her proposal only for a moment. Zaringer had warned him about the persuasive powers of the Witch and her kind. But in this situation, the interests of the Witch and the wizards did seem to be in alignment. After the resolution of this battle, there would be time to deal with the Witch.
"The plan is sound. I do not have to reflect further on it; I agree. My terms are as follows: the Renegades are to be captured alive and turned over to us. This includes all of their possessions and personal effects."
The Witch looked intrigued. "They bear something that you desire?"
"Do not concern yourself with that. They have nothing that would help your ... kind." he responded.
The Witch smiled condescendingly, as if amused by the thinly veiled insult, and replied slowly. "I accept your terms. You are wise to bind your fortunes to mine.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hemlock was sitting in the modest kitchen of the hovel that she and her sister Mercuria lived in, which was located deep in the Warrens district of the City.
She felt an odd comfort as she surveyed many familiar objects. She looked over several well-worn cooking utensils: pots and pans, bowls, bottles and silverware. She had recently purchased replacements for these items using the coin she had obtained from her spoils of battle. Hemlock was quietly proud of that fact, and the feeling resurfaced as she surveyed the items. But oddly, the new items were not there any longer; the older ones, since discarded, were now back in their familiar places.
On a nearby table rested a small painting, crudely framed. It was a rendering of Hemlock and her sister, done years ago by a street merchant for a few coppers. The likenesses were reasonably good, and Hemlock treasured the item. She gazed at the image of her sister, and Hemlock began to wonder where she might be.
Hemlock rose, thinking to investigate, but her attention was diverted inexplicably to the street outside of the floor level apartment. A thin crowd moved along the street, as was common for midday in the Warrens.
Hemlock noticed a figure in a dark cape lingering across the street. The figure turned to her, and with a start, Hemlock saw that the face of the figure was well-known to her, although she had only beheld it a few times.
The stark, masculine and appealing features of the wizard, Falignus, cast in the shadow of his hood, regarded her intently from across the street.
Hemlock felt an oddly compelling tincture of emotions at seeing Falignus. She felt intrigued, intruded upon, excited and apprehensive–all at the same time.
Falignus began to move toward the door of her apartment, moving deftly through the crowd with an almost comic grace. As he moved, his eyes were locked with hers as she stood at the window.
She realized then, with a start, that he had moved out of view and that he must now be waiting at the door.
She strode over to the door, and there he stood, his tall form nearly o
bscuring the street scene behind him. The two of them stood there for a few moments, regarding one another through the glass window of the door. Hemlock decided to open the door and admit him as her curiosity overshadowed her caution.
Falignus entered the room and Hemlock closed the door. She noted with some embarrassment that his fine attire contrasted with the humble effects of the apartment. He bowed to her with a grandiose flourish, and removed his hat and cape, which he rested on his arm. Hemlock gestured to take the garments, and Falignus handed them to her.
"Hello, Hemlock, my name is Falignus," he said simply.
"Hello," she replied, finding the situation strangely humorous.
Noting her smile, he said, "I apologize for the circumstances of our conversation, I know they are a bit...unusual."
Hemlock found, suddenly, that she had begun to float up toward the ceiling in a fashion reminiscent of her first encounter with Falignus in the weightless room within the Wizard Tower. Concentrating, she found that she was able to float back down to the floor. Oddly, this didn’t seem terribly strange to Hemlock, and she continued to speak with Falignus.
"So we meet at last–and you're awake this time," she replied coyly, noting things about him like the line of his jaw and his strong eyebrows.
"Yes, but you are not... How ironic," he replied with a smile.
"Oh," she said with a reflective tone. "I suppose you're right. What is this? Some sort..."
"...of magic. Yes," he interrupted. "There was no other way to speak with you at the moment. So I chose to use this method. One of my wizards cast a dream link spell on you during the meeting with the Tanna Varrans."
Hemlock considered that.
"And what if I object to this communication?" she asked with feigned gravity.
"Then I'll end it, of course," responded Falignus with a mock bow.
They were silent for a time and then Falignus spoke.
"You and I are kindred spirits I think," he said.
She responded, "Really? How so?”
"We are the strongest of our kind, destined to shape events. We are confronted with choices concerning whether we will exercise our power or let others who are less capable guide the course of events," he said, taking on an almost academic tone as he paced around the room, inspecting it.
"It seems that you have a high opinion of yourself," Hemlock countered.
"It is true–hubris is often an unfortunate side effect of power and control. I do try to control it."
"You say that we are the same. I am just a glorified pick-purse from the Warrens, and you are, apparently, the leader of the Wizard Guild. How does that make us alike?" she asked.
"Hemlock, don’t play coy with me. Your reputation precedes you. This…handler… that you run with, Safreon, cannot dominate you forever. You must eventually realize your destiny."
"My destiny? And what exactly is that?" she asked, annoyed at how he had referred to Safreon as her handler.
"Who can say what your destiny is? But I can say that it will be far greater than anything that this Safreon can envision. You should not be so influenced by his counsel," Falignus cautioned.
Hemlock was angry now. "If you knew Safreon, you’d know that he is a good man. He tries to mold me to be good and he has been like a father to me."
"Ah, that explains it. Well, Hemlock, don’t allow your desire for a father figure to cloud your reasoning. He is not your father and never can be. You are like me, and many in this City. We are set adrift on our own, and must guide ourselves by our wits alone."
"You’re wrong. I do share a bond with him."
Falignus smiled benevolently. "I’ll say no more now on this topic."
As he looked around the room, his eyes fell on the painting of Hemlock and her sister. He seemed to take note of it for a time and then his gaze moved on.
"Hemlock, I’ve enjoyed talking to you. The spell force wears thin now."
He moved closer to her and she looked up into his eyes. She saw undisguised desire in his gaze.
"Do not come to me again in this way," she heard herself say, as she turned her back on him. Part of her railed against this course of action, but another part of her was still angry about what he had said to her.
He lectures me like a child! And how dare he accuse Safreon of manipulating me!
"As you wish," he responded with a tone of amusement, bowing again and retrieving his cloak and hat. "Perhaps we shall meet again in a more…natural setting."
Hemlock turned to take a final look at him, but he was gone and then the room was gone.
Her senses informed her of new surroundings. She suddenly smelled and tasted the humid air of the Tanna Varran bathing chamber.
She had apparently dozed off as she sat in the calming waters of the pool.
…
Hemlock sat in a circle with Safreon, Gwineval, Taros Ranvok and Tored, in the meeting chamber of the King. She took a moment to take in the surroundings again–feeling less inhibited when not in the presence of the King–and noticed that the wall sconces were once again emitting a gentle smoke which carried a pleasant, musky aroma. To her right was the upper hall and to her left, the lower. The fine chairs near the King’s throne had been rearranged in a circular pattern for the meeting.
She heard a familiar whine of machinery and became conscious of Merit, who stood at some distance behind her.
He had not been offered a seat.
Hemlock nudged Safreon, who appeared to be deep in thought on her left. Getting his attention, she gestured behind her toward Merit. Safreon glanced back over his shoulder, and then nodded toward Hemlock.
Turning to Taros Ranvok, Safreon asked, "Can we have a seat for Merit as well?"
Taros Ranvok rose. "Yes, please forgive me, Merit."
Tored rose and adjusted his chair and a place was made for Merit between Tored and Gwineval, who sat to Hemlock’s right.
"Thank you," Merit said.
Taros Ranvok cleared his throat. He picked up a small hand-held gong which had rested on the floor at the side of his chair, and struck it three times.
"We meet to discuss our plans relative to you four, whom we refer to as outlanders as a matter of convenience and without any ill intent. Pan Taros has declined to participate in this meeting. He has entrusted the decisions in these matters to Tored and I," said Taros Ranvok, clearly and confidently.
The young warrior and heir to the throne briefly locked eyes with Hemlock, and then shifted his attention to Safreon.
"It appears that the fate of our people and you Outlanders may now be firmly intertwined. We now appear to have a mutual enemy in the Wizard Guild. My people also may be subject to hostile actions by the Witch; and since she is aware of your involvement in the slaying of her minion, she may also bear you ill will."
Safreon grunted in agreement, Hemlock noted, nodding his head as he did so.
"We feel that it may benefit all of us to form a temporary alliance in order to deal with these threats together. If you can help us to deal with the Witch, we may also be able to help you to deal with the Wizard Guild and return to the City."
Taros Ranvok paused and looked toward Tored.
"We propose this in the hope and belief that your magical powers are as significant as we believe them to be. Certainly, you impressed us with your slaying of the Mathi. We were surprised at your inability to deal with the Wizard Guild harvester, however. Do you feel that you can contribute to fighting the Wizard Guild? Or will you continue to be powerless against them? If they return with more of those iron golems, will we have a plan to deal with them? I fear that we had some measure of luck against them the first time. Now they will be aware of our ballista and they will prepare tactics for dealing with them. We have two more ballista that we can prepare, but we wonder whether they will be enough without some magical aid from you?" said Tored.
Hemlock looked at Safreon expectantly. She saw that he looked tired, which worried her.
Safreon looked at Gwineval,
who nodded at him.
"We have a plan to deal with the Wizard Guild. There is a magical item of great power which we need to retrieve. It is currently borne by a very unique creature which has been lingering at the borders of your land, waiting for a signal from me. It is a Griffin: half lion and half eagle. I believe that your patrols have been shadowing it?" Safreon asked.
"It is so," replied Tored.
"What is the nature of the item that it carries?" asked Taros Ranvok.
"It is known as a Wand of the Imperator. It is a magical item which has a great power of magical permanence and magical amplification. Do you know the history of the City? Do you know anything about the Imperator?" asked Safreon.
"Very little," responded Taros Ranvok.
"He and his descendants ruled the City from what we now call the Wizard Tower, prior to the Wizard Guild. He was an ambitious man who had visions of pushing out the borders of the City and thereby increasing the reach of the veil which enshrouds those areas which are now bound to the City, as it travels through space and time."
"He created several Wands which he gave to his henchmen. He sent them through the veil to seek out lands which could be bound to the City, using the power of the Wands. It was a dangerous mission, and many never returned. The Witch Crags, the northern Desert, the eastern Mountains and the southern Farmlands were all bound to the City in this way."
Safreon paused then, letting the story take hold in the minds of the Tanna Varrans. Hemlock could see that Taros Ranvok and Tored were suitably impressed, seemingly having been unaware of this aspect of the history of the City.
"So this item holds a power that could literally bind another land to the City?" asked Tored.
"Correct," replied Gwineval.
"Is that your intention?" asked Taros Ranvok.
"No," replied Safreon. "I have learned to use the powers of the Wand in other ways. The Wand can be used as an amplifier of magic. You now see two Sorcerers before you: one Wizard and one amateur practitioner. If we have the wand, we will wield a power equal to twenty wizards or more. The Imperator recognized this characteristic of the wands, and it aided and protected his henchmen to some extent as they entered unknown territories."
Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) Page 26
