Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1)

by B Throwsnaill

  "An interesting slip of the tongue," noted Samberlin darkly.

  "You and I have an understanding, Samberlin," lectured Falignus, sitting forward in his chair abruptly. "We both know that we are better served being allies than enemies."

  The older man took on a nonchalant look as he responded. "True enough, I have said as much in the past. What is important, I think, is that we share a vision for the future of the City. But, at times, I become concerned that you are harboring a different vision of that future than you let on."

  Falignus chuckled and brushed some of his flowing locks of dark hair out of his eyes. "Why, Samberlin, isn’t this amusing? To hear you accuse me of a hidden agenda, when you have so many hidden agendas that I’m surprised that you can keep track of them all."

  Samberlin smiled and responded only with a mock bow.

  "I will send the girl called Hemlock to you at the lake exit from the Tower tomorrow, one hour after sunrise. Speak with her and use your acute powers of observation. Tell me if she can be trusted," instructed Falignus.

  "Drink this potion before you leave your home for the meeting. It will make you invisible during the proceedings. Once you return take this counter–potion to restore yourself." said Falignus, handing the Senator two vials, which the latter placed within his robe.

  "Of course," said Samberlin. "I never fail to be amused by your security measures," he added.

  "No measures are foolproof. Today you are disguised as a harlot coming and going from the Tower–tomorrow you will be invisible. None in the Senate must suspect that we are in collusion."

  "Some probably do, since it should be evident to the perceptive that it would be in my interest to be in collusion with you. As long as we do not provide any proof, all will be well. Farewell."

  Samberlin rose and bowed more convincingly than he had moments before.

  As the old Senator walked the length of the chamber and exited, Falignus tried in vain to read some cue of the older man’s intentions from his walk.

  Is he pleased to be able to speak to Hemlock?

  Falignus decided that he would send Kraven, his most trusted advisor on the council, to observe the interview. Hopefully Samberlin would not be able to manipulate Hemlock under the observation of Kraven.

  "Kraven is smart, but Samberlin may be too subtle for him," Falignus worried. But he knew of no other alternative, so he considered the matter closed. He rose and exited the chamber.

  …

  Hemlock was escorted out of the eastern gate of the Wizard tower, which was located deep underground. The wizards lit the way by igniting a series of enchanted magical torches, which were embedded in the rough stone walls along their path in the humid darkness.

  She had been asked to meet with the leader of the Senate at the request of Falignus.

  She wasn't sure why Falignus wanted her to talk to the Senator, but she was suspicious of his intentions. Falignus had said, when she had questioned him about the meeting, that he had merely wanted her to meet the man, whom Falignus had said was an important political figure in the City and also an advisor and ally of the wizards.

  Hemlock could not escape the feeling, however, that she was being sent to meet the Senator in order for Falignus to gain another perspective on whether she was telling the truth about her desire to slay Gwineval or not.

  Hemlock was encircled in a shimmering band of color, which emanated from a staff borne by the Wizard directly behind her. The ever changing energy field made her feel sluggish, and she could not attune to it because it kept changing its nature.

  Hemlock could not see the Wizard who restrained her, but she knew that it was the leering winged wizard known as Kraven, who only disguised his lust for her when Falignus was present.

  Hemlock knew that the wizards had devised this multi–colored spell to attempt to control her powers. It was a variant of the spell which they used in their dungeon, where she had languished when she had first been brought to the Tower.

  Hemlock knew that the spell, which seemed to be a randomly alternating set of debilitating dweomers, had been effective in restraining her in the dungeon. But she wasn't sure whether this weaker, mobile version would restrain her if she devoted her full energies to escaping.

  But Hemlock was not sure that she wanted to escape. She wanted to kill Gwineval, and she thought that having the wizards as allies could be essential in that effort.

  I can't take on the entire Tanna Varran kingdom by myself.

  Falignus had sent four other tattooed wizards with Kraven, although they were not able to fly like Kraven could, which Hemlock thought made them poorly suited to support him.

  After a time the group came to a narrow passage which extended about one hundred feet, and forced them all to walk in single file. It ended in a small, locked iron door. A wizard unlocked the door with a gesture, and the group emerged into a narrow chasm, open to the morning sky.

  Hemlock's eyes were stung by the sudden shift from dark to light, but soon she was able to see a grassy rampart which led from the floor of the chasm upward.

  The group climbed this path, and Hemlock admired the many colorful and flowering vines which clung to the rocky walls of the chasm. She also enjoyed listening to the songs of many birds which flitted about the group as they walked.

  Soon the group emerged onto the long semi-circular road which was located at the center of the City and which surrounded Hemisphere Lake. They stood on the section of the road which was adjacent to the eastern side of the moat that surrounded the Wizard Tower and the western side of the Lake.

  An older man in a loosely fitting Senate robe waited.

  He introduced himself, bowing, and looking at Hemlock: "I am Samberlin, speaker of the Senate." He nodded to Kraven as well.

  "I am Hemlock," she replied.

  "Let's walk."

  "All right."

  Hemlock made eye contact with Samberlin as they settled into an easy stride, flanked by the wizards. She noticed that Samberlin was careful to stay at a reasonable distance from the magical field surrounding her, but was still close enough for easy conversation.

  "So tell me what happened in the Witch Crags," said Samberlin.

  Hemlock found the gaze of the older man disconcerting. There was an analytical quality that was constantly present, almost like a third party to their conversation.

  Hemlock decided to divert his line of questioning with one of her own. "Are you an ally of Falignus?"

  Samberlin smiled in amusement, but Hemlock noted that there was little joy in that smile, and a subtle hint of derision.

  "I wouldn't use the term ally," he responded. "I would say instead that we are united by a common purpose."

  "Does Falignus appreciate this distinction?"

  "Of course. I make no attempt to disguise my primary motive in life, which is self-interest. There are certain corollaries that arise from that motive, such as the benefits of government and basic ethics. But I act in my own interest and everyone knows this about me. I think that in a way, people trust me because of this, which is somewhat ironic. Perhaps it’s because they know that I do not act rashly or without full consideration of the ramifications of my actions."

  Hemlock found Samberlin’s nonchalantly amoral attitude repulsive. Safreon had always stressed to her that compassion toward those deserving of it was a core value to live by. Samberlin evidently was diametrically opposed to that viewpoint.

  There was a long pause in the conversation. Hemlock remembered her many days with Safreon and became sad.

  Samberlin broke the silence in an upbeat tone which contrasted starkly with Hemlock’s mood. "So how are you feeling, oh great Redeemer, Savior of the City and Protector against the threat of the rogue Wizard and his army of unwashed savages from the Witch Crags?"

  Hemlock looked at him, trying to determine whether he was mocking her, but while he was smiling, he also looked serious.

  What does he mean?

  "That is how you will be known to the people
, as their Champion against the tyrannical wizard, Gwineval."

  "That sounds a little...theatrical," she replied.

  Samberlin stopped short and looked at her in admiration. "Oh my, Falignus didn't do you justice when he described you."

  "What are you talking about? It was just an observation."

  Samberlin resumed walking and Hemlock and the escorting wizards followed his lead.

  "An excellent observation, even if you do not appreciate its significance. You grew up in the Warrens as I understand it?"

  "Yes."

  "What do you know of the Elite district and Senate politics?"

  "As little as possible," she replied sarcastically.

  "Amazing."

  "What?"

  "It just amazes me when I see how well our plans work sometimes. We've carefully crafted conditions in the Warrens to produce a stable and apathetic population. Your response is precisely what I would have hoped for."

  Hemlock felt angry and violated at the same time.

  "Don't be offended–you've clearly risen above your modest origins," Samberlin offered in a conciliatory tone.

  Hemlock was still angry. She looked at the older man. She could see his slight build, which was revealed by his robe as he walked. He wasn't frail and was fairly well-conditioned, but he looked fragile all the same. Hemlock thought that she could probably dispatch him with a single blow to the head.

  "Listen Hemlock, I need to discuss certain political and social realities with you. We seem to have a common goal–all of us–which is to rid the City of the threat of Gwineval, who now apparently wields a power that could destroy us all."

  "Look, it's personal for me with Gwineval. I don't need to hear all of this. All that you need to know is that when I see him I'll attack."

  "Not true. What if circumstances change? What happens after we eliminate him? We are offering you more than a mercenary role in this; we'd like you to become part of our organization. We'd like you to consider our ideology, which I think you may find compelling once you allow yourself to honestly contemplate it."

  Hemlock considered his words as she looked at the many beaches and parks that surrounded Hemisphere Lake. Even at this early hour some people, who were likely taking a day of leisure, were setting up picnic areas. Far along the shoreline from where they stood, she observed the brightly colored umbrellas of the Elite areas. Closer were the areas where the people from the Warrens made their picnics – with drab umbrellas that were often tattered or patched.

  Hemlock considered anew what she had always accepted; that the Elites had their areas and that the people from the Warrens had other separate areas. The two groups did not intermingle.

  Have we all been manipulated for all of these years?

  "Why don’t the people from the Warrens insist on using the Elite beaches?" Hemlock asked aloud.

  "People are tribal in nature. They are conscious of their tribal affiliation and of other tribes. We go to great lengths to reinforce the distinctions of course. But it is largely an innate trait. People must never feel that their tribe is a castoff or exploited by the other tribes. That is why we always elevate a certain number of people from the Warrens into positions of public honor – in order to perpetuate the perception that true merit can overcome tribal boundaries. People don’t always completely accept that, but it creates enough doubt that they do not challenge the tribal boundaries. Overall, this tribalism and our policies to manage it and reinforce it serve to maintain order quite effectively."

  "You don’t see that as exploitation?"

  "No, I consider it a necessary symbiosis. The Elites provide the laws, structure and ethical standards that define the lives in the Warrens. The Warrens provide the human capital that we need to build and maintain both of our communities. Before the Elites and the wizards, this land was ruled by a number of feuding warlords. Suffering and death were a dominant part of everyone’s lives. The Imperator ended that, and established this order, which has withstood the test of time until today."

  Hemlock flushed with anger as she considered whether the work that Safreon and she had done in the Warrens had furthered the aims of Samberlin and the Elites.

  "Are people…are they just pawns on a chessboard to you? The people of the Warrens could live on their own," Hemlock responded indignantly.

  Samberlin chuckled. "No, governments control fear. Without a government, people’s natural desire for more wealth takes hold, unfettered by any overarching authority. These people begin to use violence, fear and intimidation to exploit the weak. You need some form of central government to keep the meaner side of the human spirit in check."

  Hemlock was angry, but these ideas were new to her. She felt overmatched by the experience of Samberlin.

  "The reason that I am telling you all of this is that you need to enter into an alliance with us with your eyes wide open. You are very powerful, but you need to understand that your power needs to be applied and channeled through subordinates; the people," explained Samberlin, sweeping his arms around him at the final word.

  "Could you have faced the entire horde of that foul Witch by yourself? No, you needed the people to be with you, to support you and to allow your power to be applied to maximum effect. The control that we exert over the people is used to this same end. Your former mentor may have seen this as evil, but we see it as a necessary reality."

  Again Hemlock felt overmatched.

  I need to think. Why didn’t Safreon discuss this with me?

  "What is the relationship between the Elites and the wizards?" she finally asked.

  For the first time, Samberlin did not immediately reply.

  "Again, it’s a symbiosis. The wizards control a vital resource: magic. Sometimes that has put us at odds with them. Ultimately, magic would have to be controlled by some entity; for in its raw form, it puts too much power into the hands of individuals, leading to risk of a society without central control, and all of the negative consequences that I’ve just described. The wizards and the Senate share power now. The wizards control magic very effectively and the Senate controls people equally effectively."

  "Why can’t the Senate act in the interest of the people instead of controlling them?" Hemlock argued.

  "Because people often aren’t smart enough to understand their own best interests."

  "I don’t agree with that."

  "You’re young, wait until you have time to observe how people act and react – especially in a crisis. You’ll see."

  They had been walking for some time, past the beaches and the Senate building, which stood tall and proud. That edifice had always seemed to embody justice to Hemlock. Now the overseer of that building was telling her that it was all a lie. That edifice was now the embodiment of manipulation in Hemlock’s eyes.

  Having almost completed a full circuit of the lake, they were again nearing the Wizard Tower, which rose dark and mysterious, in contrast to the stately grandeur of the Senate building, which rose as a counterpart, across the smooth water of the lake.

  Becoming conscious of their location, Samberlin asked, "Is that enough for today? Or would you like to ask more questions?"

  "You’ve given me things to think about, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. I will work with the wizards until we kill Gwineval. After that, no promises," Hemlock responded defiantly.

  Hemlock heard a skeptical grunt from behind her. Looking back, she met eyes with Kraven.

  "It will be fun to hunt you down then, after we kill the Lizard," he boasted, leering.

  "Silence, you fool," Samberlin said flatly.

  "Hemlock, your last remark was a dangerous statement. One might infer that you might turn on us once Gwineval falls. How are we expected to react to such an inclination on your part?"

  "That is your concern, not mine," Hemlock responded, eyes still locked with Kraven.

  Samberlin sighed. "Unfortunate. Well, you lot, take her back. And you," he pointed to Kraven, "don’t get any rash ideas.
Take her back unharmed."

  "As you say, old man. Come on," Kraven replied, continuing to smile darkly.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Hemlock sat slumped in a fine brocade chair in the room that the wizards had imprisoned her in, gazing out the window. She considered many of the things that Samberlin had said to her.

  Should I have claimed to be loyal? She had a feeling that that wouldn’t have worked. He would have known.

  She considered that perhaps she had been wise to play it straight with the Speaker of the Senate. Samberlin looks like a man who has spent a lifetime lying and learning to detect when others are.

  Recoiling from unpleasant thoughts of the old Senator, her mind turned to fond, but bittersweet memories of Safreon. She remembered his passion, his keen appreciation for individual liberty and his faith in the human spirit. What had he said to her about the Elites?

  "Most of them live in a gilded cage, dancing to the tune of their jailors. They are good people, but naïve. They do bear some responsibility for ignoring the plight of the less fortunate, but I cannot wholly indict them for that. Someday, they may awaken, and be of great aid to our cause," she recalled him saying to her.

  At the time, she hadn’t understood those words, and he hadn’t seemed anxious to elaborate.

  Why did he spoon feed me this knowledge? At least Samberlin and Falignus treat me like an adult.

  A familiar knock came from outside the door. She knew it well, as the person whom she expected to call on her had always knocked with a distinctive rhythm. She didn’t like to admit to herself that she enjoyed these regular visits from Falignus, but she did.

  Perhaps it’s just the boredom, she reasoned, fully aware that it wasn’t true.

  She rose and opened the door, at once conscious of the fine gown that she wore, as Falignus had provided nothing less pretentious for her.

  He bowed and entered the room, his light complexion wearing an uncharacteristic look of frustration, accented by his long dark hair.