She Who Has No Name tlt-2

by Michael Foster

  Eric ceased his efforts and the roar and noise of his spells immediately ceased. ‘I think we’re in trouble,’ he noted. His forehead was glistening with sweat. ‘These two are strong.’

  The two wizards left the spot where they had made their stand, and moved in opposite directions. They circled around the wall of the arena, sidestepping and keeping their dark faces to the two magicians.

  ‘What now?’ Eric asked.

  ‘They’re flanking us. Let them. Eric, gather more power. You must do all the offensive work while I try to distract their attention.’

  ‘How are you planning to do that?’

  ‘Just do it, Eric. I will take care of my part and you take care of yours. I know you still have much more power inside you. This is no time to be coy. We need it now, or we’re dead.’

  Eric nodded solemnly and set himself to the task, dropping into Fathoming Stance with his fingers to his temples. The sand shuddered as he pooled more power, but the Paatin wizards leapt into action before he could complete his work. Spells shot out from both of them and Samuel’sheartwas in his mouth. Eric was busy and he knew it was up to him to defend themboth. He heard himself scream with effort as he spread out his arms to each side and called for a spell. The Paatin magic fell upon them from both sides and, incredibly, was stopped short by a barrier of magic. Samuel was astounded and was wondering why his magic had chosen that moment to return, when he realised it had not,for it was Eric who had saved them.

  Eric had broken from hisSummoning stance to save them and was now standing defensively, surrounding them in protective barriers.

  ‘Damn it, Samuel!’ he swore. ‘Do I have to do everything?’

  Samuel brought his empty hands back before his chest and looked into them. His magic had failed again. He had hoped that sheer need and desperation would be enough to lure his power from its slumber, but he was not so fortunate.

  More spells shot out from the Paatin wizards: quick probing spells that harassed Eric’s shields and tested them for openings. One Paatin then eased back, saving his power,while the other continued to attack them, hoping to wear the Imperial magicians down.

  ‘Very well,’ Samuel said. ‘Perhaps I can do something else that may be of some use.’

  He vaulted past Eric and left their bubble of protection. He began sprinting towards the wizard who had eased his spells, running at the man full pace. The wizard was surprised and cast out his magic, but Samuel had already turned aside and began darting away with the spells at his heels. He heard the wizard curse after him and he only hoped that Eric would act quickly. He had only scant moments left before the Paatin wizard would second-guess his evasive movements and then his luck would run out.

  The second wizard ceased his attacks upon Eric and he, too, took up the opportunity to attack Samuel. It was a critical mistake for them and a stroke of luck for the Order magicians for,in the time it took for the man to redirect his spells, Eric had sprung into action.

  As the Paatin magic raced out towards Samuel, Eric pulled down his shields and tossed all his power at the distracted wizard. The spell shattered the man’s defences and slammed into him. The impact threw the wizard against the arena wall and left him hanging at the centre of a deep depression on its cracked face. The force of the spell must have been considerable, for a length of seating above that spot fell in and the audience scrambled as their chairs caved into the hole beneath them.

  As the force of the spell subsided, the Paatin wizard fell from the wall and crashed limply onto the sand, perished.

  Samuel continued his frantic steps until he realised that the other wizard’s spells had ceased behind him. The remaining wizard was now directing his spells at Eric, whom he took to be the greater threat, and who now had no shields in place. Eric saw it coming, but he had precious little time to assemble more defences. His first hastily rebuilt shields tumbled beneath the wizard’s onslaught.

  ‘Eric!’ Samuel called in alarm. He was powerless to help, so he did all he could do, and began running at the Paatin wizard with all the strength and speed he could muster.

  Eric’s spells collapsed before Samuel could get anywhere near the wizard and Eric disappeared amidst a fountain of sand as the Paatin spell exploded in upon him. Samuel continued running, painfully aware that his steps were just too slow and the distance was just too great to do him any good.

  The wizard turned towards him and their gazes locked. The Paatin pushed his fists forwards toward Samuel and the same offensive spell burst forth. Samuel had little choice but to maintain his current path and he met the attack at full stride.

  Strangely enough, and luckily enough, his magic chose that moment to return and it sprang from him almost instinctively, sounding a familiar click in his head as it erupted from his skin. Magical weaves intercepted the Paatin spell, shunting it aside. The floor to his right, where the wayward spell struck, gushed upwards like a geyser and Samuel had to raise his hand to keep the sand from his eyes.

  The world seemedto havegreater detail-not the time-slowing effect that he had sometimes felt in moments of true affinity with his magic-but,as his magic saturated his senses, he could feel everything around him with more clarity and in greater detail. He could see the tiny,irregular spikes on individual grains of sand as they each rained back down to earth. He could see the pock-marked and sweat-beaded skin on the Paatin wizard’s face fold and gather together as the man narrowed his eyes, looking to Samuel with discontent. As individual droplets were brought together, rivuletsrandown his face.

  Another spell of sparks and fire came from the wizard and Samuel skidded to a halt. The torrent enveloped him, but his own magic was now at hand, and he grasped the Paatin spell and took it for his own. The flames and lightning encircled him furiously, roaring and flashing, and Samuel turned the spell around and sent it back from where it had come, peeling it from his body and sending it towards the Paatin. The wizard, in turn, strengthened his protective spells to take the blow and disappeared amongst the maelstrom as it surrounded him.

  Samuel began summoning some power for his own offence, and it came to him without delay, naturally and vibrantly. It seemed as if all was going well and he was confident of destroying the man before him, when a pop sounded in his ear and his connection with the ether vanished, taking all the magic he had gathered with it. As quick as the moment had come, it had gone,and Samuel was once again left standing powerless.

  Not content to hope his luck would return, Samuel leapt into action and boundedforwards once more. The Paatin spell had ended andwith his hand,the man was swatting away the smoke that hugged him. When he saw Samuel closing in, he summoned another spell; but Samuel was now only four strides away and already leaping with all his might.

  They collided at full speed, knocking the wind out of them both. The wizard fell beneath him and Samuel recovered first, landing blows to the desert-man’s face as hard as he could. He could now hear Eric yelling out in pain behind him, but Samuel continued pummelling the man beneath him, slamming his fists into the bloodied face over and over. He clawed his fingers around the man’s neck and squeezed tightly, until the wizard’s face turned blue and his tongue came lolling out of his frothing mouth. Only when he was sure the man was dead, did Samuel get up and stumble back towards his stricken friend.

  Eric lay alive, but bloodied and half-buried in sand.

  ‘Here we are again, Samuel,’ Eric groaned. ‘Me, down and injured, and you winning the day. I’m really getting tired of this.’

  ‘I didn’t win the day, Eric. You did. You evened the odds and all I did was take the honours. I wouldn’t have stood a chance by myself.’

  Many of Eric’s bones were broken and the internal damage was terrible. Samuel knelt beside his friend and tried to call more power, desperate for spells of healing, but once again his magic had subsided and would not come.

  ‘Well?’ Samuel yelled up to the crowd, where he assumed the Desert Queen would be, lurking amongst the sea of on-lookers. ‘Were you
entertained? We won! Now get down here and save him!’

  He was surprised when a flurry of magic arced down from the stands and Alahativa sailed down beside him, supported on a bed of spells. The crowd began singing and calling out her praises. It was the first time he had seen her use her power and he could see the magic springing from the ring on her finger and flooding within her. Unlike his own experiences, the magic was well regulated and she obviously was having no difficulty in summoning exactly the amount of power she desired.

  ‘Very well, Samuel,’ she said, looking pleased. ‘You have earned a stay of execution for now. I am disappointed that you still defy my will to see your full power, but you have met my request to see some magic, so I must admit that you havesatisfiedour agreement. Perhaps it is my fault for not arranging a suitable challenge. Still, you will live. Don’t worry about your friend. We will care for him,’ and she threw a spell onto Eric that immediately eased his pain. Already, healers-male and female-had burst from the doors and hustled over to carry him away.

  With that, Alahativa sailed back up to her seat on effortless spells, leaving Samuel alone, looking towards the beckoning figure of Utik’cah in the distant doorway. Eric was injured, but he would live. It was not so bad, for he believed the Queen’s healers would care for Eric as she had promised and that meant he was free of participating in these accursed tests for now. Also, Samuel had watched the witch’s spells and he smiled as he recited them back in his mind, heading for the dim doorway beneath the crowds. In its stubborn way, his magic had returned, and that was enough to complete his feeling of victory. If it could be done once, it could be done again.

  Samuel was left to rest after the battle, but late in the afternoon Utik’cah arrived, bearing news that he had again been summoned into the presence of his Queen. Wordlessly, he led Samuel through the palace, but this time they followed a new route that lead down through the peacock-inhabited and meticulously pruned gardens.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Samuel asked.

  ‘I will show you,’ was the response.

  Wishing to test his recovered powers, Samuel hoped he would be able to enter the man’s mind and glean some indication of Utik’cah’s intentions, but it seemed his magic was still being evasive. As he followed his dark-skinned Paatin guide, he found his mind unsettled, more focussed on their destination and he was forced to give up, admitting to himself that he had already achieved enough of a milestone for today.

  Skipping down a long set of steep, white-stone, squared stairs, they made their way down to where the river coursed down from the mountain. A large barge lay waiting there, docked beside an ornate stone jetty.Serving girls waited, throwing petals as they arrived, and burly guards stood watching, with their mighty blades hefted upon their shoulders. The barge itself was more like a floating room from the palace than a ship, covered in rugs and furnishings and with attentive servantsclustering around.

  Alahativa sat inside the raised pavilion and she beckoned for Samuel to sit in a chair beside her. He did so reluctantly, for their seats were arranged side by side, as equals, and he knew the decision to place the seating like this had been purposeful. It was an intimidating proposal, but he took it willingly, keen to see what kind of invitation she would extend to him.

  She smiled at him welcomingly as her servants pushed the vessel away from the dock and began driving the barge forward with synchronised strokes of their long,dipping oars.

  ‘I still don’t quite know what to think of you, Samuel,’ Alahativa said as they passed through her city. Throngs of her people rushed to the raised riversides and packed onto the bridges at her approach, dropping their bundles and throwing themselves onto their knees in worship. She seemed oblivious to the spectacle and continued chatting to Samuel as they passed. ‘I see your magic was not as elusive as you thought. Your reputation tells of a great magician yet,even when faced with the possible death of your closest friend, you use just a trifling power and kill your enemy with your bare hands. None of my wizards would behave like this. You use the strangest methods, Samuel. Is this, perhaps, what is responsible for your string of successes? Is it possible that you are not the strongest,but insteadthe most cunning,the most resourceful…the most unusual? Tell me your secret, Samuel.’

  Samuel listened to her words, but his eyes were now on her finger and the ring upon it. ‘Strength alone will never succeed,’ he said, hoping to throw her off with any words that would distract her.

  ‘Oh? Then what will? Speed? Cunning? Determination? Which do you consider to be the most vital trait of the victor? Tell me, Samuel,I am curious to have some insight into your inner workings.’

  ‘There is no single characteristicthat isbest all situations,’ he told her. ‘Likewise, there is no single answer to your question.’

  ‘Surely you can choose one thing over another? What is it? What does your wisdom tell you?’

  ‘Is it really an answer you seek, or is it only the way I answer that interests you?’ he asked her levelly.

  She smiled knowingly. ‘Aren’t they one and the same, Samuel? Come-entertain me with your wit.’

  ‘Intent,’ Samuel replied after a moment’s deliberation. ‘An opponent can have every overwhelming advantage, but if they have no desire to win, they are useless.’

  ‘Intent?’ the woman said with disbelief. ‘How can you choose such a lowly thing? My scholars and philosophisers would laugh. More harm is done in the name of good intent than good.’

  ‘All the other attributes you care to mention can be made redundant by another. With ultimate speed or strength or another such physical attribute, one could perhaps be the victor, but what would be achieved withoutthewisdom to direct such power? With ultimate wisdom or knowledge alone, one would never act, for suchattributesare useless without direction. Victory is meaningless to true scholars and they would not bother with such hollow pursuits, knowing its pointlessness over time.

  ‘Intent is pure,for it is without magnitude. There is no greater or lesser intent, only intent in some particular act and,if one can truly perform in unity with his intent, then anything can be accomplished, even with a little of those other traits.’

  ‘But what if that intent is wrong or simply misplaced?’

  ‘What is right or wrong, Your Highness? A desire can be a blessing for one and a curse for another, but it can still be achieved by both.’

  ‘So you say that my war against theWest is wellfounded, even if my armies slaughter your own?’

  ‘If your intent is pure, then it is wellfounded for you, Your Majesty. Is it really your intent to create a paradise for your people in theWest?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said.

  ‘Then if you know your own mind so clearly, you are already halfway to victory.’

  ‘You magicians speak in the same riddles and nonsense as my confounded wizards. Tell me then, Samuel, what is your intent?’

  ‘I have already told you, Your Highness. I have come to save a child.’

  ‘Such a pure ambition! Then one more question for you, Magician. If you believe our reasons are so important, what about those great things we achieve via mishap or circumstance? How do these things fit into your plan?’

  ‘Don’t you know?’ Samuel said with feigned exaggeration. ‘Nothing happens by accident. Victories such as these are the intent of the gods.’

  ‘Now I know you are fooling me, Samuel. We both know gods are only the dreams of common people.’

  ‘I beg to differ,’ said Samuel with a mischievous smile. ‘Common people are only the dreams of gods.’

  ‘So you invest your values in intent, meaning and reason, Samuel, over other things. It shows you are a man of morals over outcomes-an idealist-and such people can be unpredictable and dangerous. I must say, I cannot agree with your philosophy. We have very different ideas.’

  ‘Perhaps that is why you are the Queen and I am the prisoner.’

  She smiled at this, and he marvelled at the perfect dimensions of her features. Men
would probably throw themselves to their deaths just to catch a glimpse of such beauty.

  ‘You know, Samuel, the war is as good as over. Your quest to return the Empress and her child are pointless. Even if I released them to you now, the Empire would already be fallen by the time you return. Nearly every one of the Turian cities has surrendered in peace. Only Cintar stubbornly remains, bristling with weapons to defy me, and my soldiers will wipe that city from the earth within months. Your little success at Ghant delayed my forces, but they will reach your city eventually. It cannot be any other way.’

  ‘Even if Cintar falls, the Empire will live through the young Emperor.’

  ‘Of course. Then I see you realise I can never allowhimto live.’

  ‘I do,’ Samuel told her.

  ‘So why, then, do you continue your infernal charade to have me releasehim and his mother?’

  ‘Because I live in hope. If I can convince you to give up on this war, you will have no reason to kill them and I will have no reason to kill you.’

  The Paatin Queen laughed aloud. ‘Oh, you are amusing, Samuel. Am I really forging such a place in your heart that you can speak so openly? Is it love or hate that drives your words? I sometimes get the two confused. But you really are naive, Samuel, and perhaps that’s why I find you so intriguing. Why do you think I would want to end this war when I already have it won? Soon, there will be no Empire to remember and everyone in Amandia will be nurtured beneath my bosom. After a few generations, there will be no memories of the Empire and no one will be interested in the descendants of a long dead Emperor.’

  ‘True,’ Samuel admitted. ‘But I still cannot condone the death of an innocent woman and child when I have vowed to return them to safety.’

  ‘Then I will keep them safely, Samuel. How does that sound? I will let them live out their days in luxury in my city and they will not suffer or miss their old lives. The war is over and I have won. Taking Cintar is only a matter of time. I have heard much about the virtues of your Order and I know your duty as a magician is to all the people of Amandia, Samuel, no matter which flag or banner may be raised at the time.’