Madness and Magic- The Seers' War

by Greg Curtis

“But what if the reason you never saw the circlet, is because there never was one in the first place? The simplest answer is usually the right one. It's just a story, made up because our enemy needed the Duke to live. At least long enough to escape.”

  “So Estor helps the Duke escape and whoever first got him to launch the attack against the Fae is once more in a better position. Or so they think. But in keeping him alive and saving themselves, they've turned the lives of so many others upside down. The law of unintended consequences has struck again.”

  “The King's still making decrees. Random, terrible ones. Grenland is in chaos. And many more seers in all likelihood, are living in terror and confusion as the future and their lives are being shredded. Their futures are in a parlous state. Their minds are in pieces. They're desperate. And they want to get things back to how they were for them.”

  “Finally capturing the Duke and hanging him would have helped to put things right. The Duke is an important man. What he does affects the Realm. His being free probably helped some seers but threatened the future of others. Meanwhile I was busy rewriting the King's decrees, fighting a war to protect those like me.”

  “It was a noble goal. But the seers can't afford to be noble. It's about survival and salvaging their sanity. So when the time came I too was manipulated. I captured the Duke and Estor. But by accident or design, I was captured too.”

  And the reason? Because I used an enchantment that looked like one that invoked the Reaver. That could all make sense. Accidents happen. But then the priests of Allene Mar Wane – the Roots of the Great Tree – didn't recognise the enchantment, something that they should surely have known immediately for what it was. The enchantment is unusual, but not unheard of and obviously not a prayer to the Reaver. My imprisonment should have been over almost from the moment I returned to the Glade. But it wasn't.

  Instead someone whispered in the ears of the priests and I was interrogated too. That made no sense to anyone. It went against all reason. It also changed things.”

  “Great Uncle Mortimer was especially affected. So he fought back, telling you where the book with the enchantment could be found, and getting you to rush it back. But he was too slow.”

  A bird squawked and Baen stopped in his tracks for a moment, worried that it might be a sign that someone was nearby. But when it became clear it wasn't, he carried on.

  “And the priests wouldn't have listened anyway. Someone's been telling them things. Whispering in their ears. For the simple reason that while I was locked away being interrogated, I wasn't changing the King's decrees. Because no matter how noble that was, it was change. And change effects seers badly. Even if what I was doing didn't place their lives in peril, it rattled their thoughts leaving them lost and broken. Reassembling their minds into someone else.”

  “But the law of unintended consequences struck. I was locked up, but it didn't change things as they wanted. I escaped in time. Dariya kept writing decrees. And things carried on. But maybe less dramatically than they would have. Probably that was good for them. But every change has consequences – and they aren't all predictable. Seers remember the future. But they can't remember the future that will happen after they've made a change until they've actually changed it. They're guessing. And this time one of the changes was that my experience being interrogated helped me understand what was happening to the seers.”

  “There were other problems. They took too many risks. Estor was bound and captured. She might talk and that could reveal who was pulling her strings. So I'm guessing she's no longer in prison. One way or another she will have been freed.”

  “More importantly now that their new future memories are starting to bed in, some of them are surely worried that I will work out what's happening. Because some of those futures will be good. And they don't want to be exposed. And the Duke is no longer free as his backers need him to be. Worse I can get him killed. One word to the King about the circlet not existing, and he'll be executed on the spot.”

  The three of them began walking slowly down Fielder's Line, their senses all stretched to the limit.

  “They have to stop that. If they don't the memories of the rest of their lives will be of prison or execution. Once more they are caught between an unbearable fate and tearing their own minds apart.” It couldn't be easy, he knew. But he wasn't sure if he could feel that sorry for them after what they'd done to him.

  “Those memories will be telling them that this is the day when their downfall begins. That I am the one responsible for what goes wrong for them. So they have to stop me.”

  “And I have to stop them. So I'm about to go to the Mission and tell everyone. From here on our enemy's life will become horribly tricky.” It was why they were armed. Because this was the moment when whoever was turning the world upside down would know that his or her plans were about to come apart at the seams. It was also the moment when he finally left the safety of his home. A fortress protected by magic. And his enemy had known that this moment was coming for some time. Now was when he would act.

  He could have left this, he supposed. Hidden away in his home for another few days to ruin their plans. But ironically he didn't have time. The longer he remained in his home's safety the longer he gave his enemy to prepare their plans – such as whatever they were doing in G'lorenvale. It was probably an attempt to make certain that whatever he did say, no longer mattered. He could have sent Nyri in his place – though it would have been cowardly – but then she might become a hostage to be used against him.

  It was best to get this over with. To hope that his own protections would be more than a match for whatever they could come up with. And get the other two to safety. Because the moment he revealed what he knew, his value as a piece in this board game of fate ended. That in turn kept them safe.

  But he clutched his staff a little more tightly than normal as he walked.

  Still, as they continued cautiously down the street, nothing untoward happened. There were a few people here and there, trying to make their way through the trees to get to wherever they wanted to go. And there were a few more in their houses, judging from the fact that many had their lights on. These days with the forest shading houses from the sun, lights were on even during the day. Maybe he should talk to Millie about easing back on her magic? They were getting ever closer to the point where there would be no city left.

  In time, the three of them turned on to Dusky Road and headed toward Willowbank Road. Still things remained quiet. It wasn't until they reached Willowbank Road itself and were making their way towards the Fae Trading Mission and the centre of the city which was mercifully free of trees, that things changed. In the predictably unpredictable fashion he was getting used to.

  He'd expected an attack. Soldiers perhaps. Or brigands. But their enemy was smarter than that. He or she used whatever she had at hand. With the Duke he or she'd used soldiers, because he had soldiers at his disposal. Here he or she had decided on a different approach – bureaucracy. Specifically the Mayor, a couple of Councillors and a small band of clerks who were busy arguing with J'bel, Amaru and several other Fae. Meanwhile, a crowd had formed to watch the proceedings and a couple of guards were keeping order.

  “Nyri?”

  She shrugged helplessly. “When I left there were a couple of officials asking to speak to the head of the Mission. Not this.”

  “Well let’s find out what’s going on then, shall we?” Baen slung his staff over his back before walking slowly over to the gathering.

  “Mayor Roundson, J'bel.” He nodded respectfully to them. “What seems to be the problem? Is there anything I can help with?”

  “I hardly think so!” The Mayor puffed up his chest, trying his best to look down his nose at Baen. It was hard though when the man barely reached Baen’s shoulders. “Who are you? A trader of some sort?”

  Maybe he should have worn a suit, Baen thought. But he had been expecting something other than this. In fact he and the Mayor had met before. It was just tha
t Mayor Roundson didn't recognise him in his workman's wear.

  “Baen Walkerton of Baen's Books.” He introduced himself, and earned a surprised stare. The Mayor might not recognise him but he knew the Walkerton name. Everyone in Cedar Heights did.

  “What in all the hells are you wearing, Sir?!” The Mayor cast a disparaging look at his clothing.

  “My store is completely surrounded by trees Mayor.” Baen matched him arrogant frown for frown. “My normal clothes simply aren't up to the challenge of marching through a forest. There's sap and muck everywhere. And I have no customers anymore for the same reason! So Mayor Roundson, please explain when are you going to do fix this situation with the streets? Because this is costing me coin. A lot of it.” If there was one thing he knew about elected officials it was that they didn't want to be seen to be not doing their jobs. Especially when there was an election coming!

  “We are dealing with it, Master Walkerton,” the Mayor began spluttering. “But it will take time.”

  “So instead of putting all your efforts into fixing the problem, you're harassing these Fae, some of my only remaining customers?”

  “Well I …” Suddenly the Mayor stopped talking as a thought crossed his mind. “I just remembered – you're a witch!”

  “What of it? I was a successful merchant until you allowed this to happen!” He retorted. “Can't you even keep the weeds down?!”

  Of course it was unfair to accuse the Mayor of this particular failure given it was his Aunt Millie who'd caused the problem in the first place. But it was the right tack to bring the Mayor back in line. Accusing Baen of witchcraft wasn't going to protect him against a charge of failing to do his job. Not in front of all these witnesses.

  “The King issued a Decree.” He mumbled. “We had to obey it!”

  “And this?” Baen gestured at him and the others busy arguing with the Fae.

  “More Decrees. King Richmond says you can't keep wild animals on the premises!”

  “They're riding animals,” J'bel answered him, as he'd probably done many times already. “No different to horses.”

  Baen started choking as he tried to keep himself from laughing and had to turn away hurriedly so that his face didn't reveal his own feelings on the matter. He didn't mind the riding wolves – but he would never describe them as being like horses. But there was a more important purpose to the Decree. While it might sound like it had been done in the spirit of public safety – in fact someone had no doubt suggested to the King that the animals might pose a danger to his Kingdom, if not his person – it had another important effect. None of the Fae in Grenland could carry a message back to G'lorenvale. Like the one he was about to deliver.

  Baen turned to Nyri while the others bickered. “No eagles, no wolves and no messages home”, he murmured softly. “What are the odds that anyone who did make it back to the Hallows would quickly find themselves locked up on some sort of unfounded charge?”

  They'd been outflanked before they'd even made it on to the battlefield!

  Fortunately, there were ways around it. Baen interrupted the bickering parties, to suggest a way through.

  “Mayor Roundson, it seems to me that this is civil matter, decree or no decree. And Decrees can be appealed. First to the Council. Then to the Court. Then to the King himself. I'm sure my friends would like to appeal this.”

  Everyone stared at him, probably wondering why he was getting involved in a matter that clearly didn't concern him. The Mayor and his Councillors were starting to look distinctly annoyed as they realised he was going to cause them a lot of nuisance – just as they were busy trying to get themselves re-elected.

  “Mr. Walkerton –,” the Mayor began.

  “Yes, I quite understand,” Baen cut him off. “You have campaigns to run, a new Council to elect. And you can't be distracted with a public hearing in the midst of all that. Perhaps what you should do is put off the hearing until after the elections, and have the new Council deal with this once it has been elected?” And until then of course, nothing would happen. The Mayor wasn't about to start a fight with the most popular enterprise in the city while he was trying to garner votes. But he wouldn’t want to violate the law either. Baen’s solution bought him some time. At least a couple of months.

  Baen wasn't surprised therefore when the Mayor quickly backed down. The man was smart enough to know when he had no choice. But the Mayor was also someone who held grudges and he would not forget this in a hurry. Baen was going to have to watch his back from now on.

  Thunder suddenly cracked!

  Someone had fired a rifle Baen realised as he spun around! A guard yelled out in shock, blood sprayed, and then he fell down in a heap just in front of Baen.

  For a few stunned seconds, nothing happened as everyone stared at the fallen guard, watching the blood flow. Then finally someone screamed. After that things went crazy.

  People started panicking and ran in all directions. Guards were shouting, looking for the shooter. Mayor Roundson made a spectacular dive as he took cover behind a bench. Whoever had fired the rifle took another shot and then a third. And all the while Baen continued to stand there like a fool, wondering if this was really happening. Because it just didn't seem real. People didn't start shooting at one another in the city! He'd expected an attack – but not this.

  But when the next bullet stopped in the air about two feet from his face before falling to the ground he snapped into life and realised it was actually happening. Staring at the bullet lying on the clay just in front of his feet, he also realised that whoever it was, was shooting at him! The enemy was making his next move – an assassination attempt.

  Baen looked around trying to find the shooter, not bothering to look for cover as with his wards fully up, no bullet would reach him.

  But then he discovered a new threat when a woman nearby suddenly screamed and pointed. And when he followed her finger, he realised that it wasn't just one assassin. A burly man was running at him with a flaming axe in his hands and a war cry on his lips and Baen finally understood that there was more than one person trying to kill him.

  As he stared at the man with the axe, his tired brain finally kicked back into life and told him that he had to do something before the man split his head in two. He didn't have a ward that would protect him against a flaming axe. But he did have sleep spell and without thinking about it he directed it at the man.

  It was a simple spell, but it was as effective as always. The man abruptly stopped screaming and collapsed face first into the ground. Then he slid for a bit, sending up clouds of dust, before finally coming to a halt maybe half a dozen yards from him. He was already snoring before he came to a halt.

  A shooter and now a man with an axe! Baen stared in disbelief at the sleeping man. This wasn’t over by any means. There were bound to be more of them. Recognising Baen as a threat, his enemy was trying to kill him any way he could. No doubt the enemy had also worked out that this was the one time – the last time – when he would be out in the open, away from his store.

  Despite his earlier fears, that moment hadn't been while he'd been walking through the forest to get here – because how could his enemy know exactly when or where that would be? Not when his store couldn't be found. Instead his enemy had a future memory of him meeting with the Mayor and the Fae in front of their Mission. He'd had a time and a place. He'd therefore had his assassins wait there.

  Unfortunately for his enemy, Baen knew as yet another bullet stopped in front of him and fell to the ground at his feet, that he was now blind. His enemy had found the time and the place to strike, and he had prepared for it. But the moment his men had begun the attack, the future had changed. His enemy was now probably sitting in his home somewhere, his mind falling apart as all the future memories he had had were now suddenly changing. His great uncle would be feeling it too.

  But these were desperate times. His enemy had to strike him down before he told the other Fae at the Mission about his suspicions. He was wi
lling to suffer to kill him.

  Baen’s heart stopped when he saw another next man coming toward him with a huge tank on his back and a hose nozzle in his hand, fire already starting to flow.

  He had seen that weapon before! He knew what it did and he absolutely did not want to be roasted alive. But he doubted the man would simply fall to his spell of unconsciousness when he was wearing thick black goggles and a cold iron breast plate. It took him a moment to realise what he had to do.

  Baen grabbed his staff and immediately cast a shield of ice in front of him, just as the man opened the valve on his fire weapon. And Baen watched, relieved, as the fire scattered to both sides of him but left him unscathed while the ice thickened between them.

  Suddenly a small globe of glass and steel came flying toward him from a different direction, and his relief turned to terror. But it was too late to do anything by the time he saw it. The ball exploded when it crashed to the ground, and he felt the full force of the blast knocking him back. Luckily his protection against bullets also stopped the tiny steel balls inside it from shredding him and he could withstand the blast. It was far enough away that it just felt like being pushed hard. But he heard the screams from others who were taking shelter around him and knew they hadn't all been so lucky.