“I expected as much,” Void said, when she had finished. “I didn’t think he would be able to cope with you.”
Emily blinked, wiping a tear out of her eye. “With me?”
Void turned to watch the train as it puffed its way back along the line. “I destroyed a village, once,” he said. “The entire place was…was hag-ridden. I couldn’t save the inhabitants without spreading the contamination across the country. My partner was already dead. There was no time to send for help, Emily, so I took care of it. I stood at the edge of the village and summoned fire, lots of fire. The entire village burned to the ground. Fifty-seven men, women and children died in the blaze I unleashed.”
Emily shivered, helplessly.
“I knew some of them,” Void added, after a moment. “I’d spoken to them during my investigation. The innkeeper who knew everything, the village hedge-witch who was searching for an apprentice, the young lady who wanted to make a life in the big city, the young man who wanted to marry her…”
He turned to face Emily. “I killed them all, because it was the only way to prevent a greater catastrophe,” he told her. “I made that choice. I was the only one who could make that choice. I heard some of them begging for mercy, promising anything, as the flames washed around their hovels. I burned them to the ground anyway, then sifted through the ash to be sure.
“Not everyone can make those choices, Emily. Caleb couldn’t, it would seem.”
Emily scowled at him. “Should he have risked letting his sister die?”
Void shrugged. “To save the rest of the city?”
“It isn’t a fair choice,” Emily said. She understood Caleb’s feelings more than she wanted to admit. Marian hadn’t deserved to die. But the cold equations might well have dictated her death. She wasn’t sure she could have made the deliberate choice to murder the girl, even if it would save countless more lives. “He didn’t have to make it.”
“The world isn’t fair,” Void said. “And yes, he did have to make it.”
He glanced towards Lady Barb, then back at Emily. “You’ll have to make those choices yourself, in the future,” he warned. “And close connections will only get in the way.”
“Maybe,” Emily said, stubbornly.
Void shrugged and reached into his robes, producing a parchment scroll. “This is for the Grandmaster. Don’t try to open it.”
Emily felt the charm on the seal as she took it and nodded, once. “What is it?”
“An apprenticeship offer, if you still want it,” Void said. Emily stared at him. “An unconditional apprenticeship offer. You could come with me now, if you liked.”
“I want to finish my schooling first,” Emily said. She held the parchment gingerly. In the right hands, it was worth hundreds of crowns. “After that…”
“You’ll be ready to learn from me,” Void said.
He stepped backwards. “You did well. I would be proud to have you as my apprentice.”
Emily blushed. “Thank you.”
Void raised a hand in salute. “You’re welcome.”
He vanished in a flash of light. Emily stared at where he’d been for a moment, then tucked the scroll into her pouch and hurried to join her friends.
Lady Barb gave her a sharp look when she arrived. “Back to Whitehall?”
“Yes,” Emily said. “Back to Whitehall.”
End of Book Twelve
Emily Will Return In:
The Gordian Knot
Appendix: The Financial Crisis of Beneficence
The roots of what became known, alternately, as the Railway Crash, the Banking Crisis and Vesperian’s Folly rested in three factors, all introduced – deliberately or otherwise – by Emily.
First, the spread of the New Learning (everything from abacuses to steam engines) encouraged a rapid growth in craftsmanship and opened up whole new vistas for technological advancement and profit. As a free city, situated close to the Barony of Cockatrice, Beneficence was well-placed to take advantage of these developments without interference from a jealous monarch. Steam engineers and artificers, for example, were happy to move to the city and start training apprentices, who would in turn train others.
Second, the issuing of microloans from various banks, particularly the Bank of Silence, ensured a thriving commercial sector. Anyone with a dream – and a semi-workable proposal – could apply for a loan and most of them would be granted. (And most of them would repay the loans.) This fueled the growth of an investment infrastructure and, eventually, the first true stock market.
Third, the collapse of the Accountants Guild – a direct consequence of the spread of new forms of bookkeeping and cheap paper – ensured that there were few old-style professional financiers within the city. Of those who remained, only a handful were savvy enough to see the danger signs and issue warnings, none of which were actually heeded. Like financial bubbles on Earth, everything looked good until it suddenly wasn’t.
Vesperian, a wealthy merchant who had made his first fortune through trade, was ideally placed to take advantage of the industrial boom. His first investments in steam technology produced an improved steam engine that opened up whole new vistas for both steam-powered ships and railway engines. The opening of the Beneficence-Cockatrice Railway – a direct link between Beneficence and Cockatrice City – suggested that tying the remainder of Zangaria and even parts beyond would be a relatively simple task. Accordingly, Vesperian started work on the Beneficence-Zangaria Railway. It would rapidly become known as Vesperian’s Track.
He did not, however, have the cash reserves to fund the project himself. Reluctant to approach his peers or King Randor for a loan, Vesperian solved the problem by selling shares in the railway to all and sundry. These investments, which rapidly became known as ‘notes,’ promised repayment within two years, at (originally) a rate of ten-to-twelve. If someone were to invest, for example, ten crowns in the railway, they would receive twelve crowns at the end of the two-year period. Through a great deal of marketing, aided by the success of the Beneficence-Cockatrice Railway, Vesperian managed to raise a staggering sum and work began.
Problems appeared, however, almost at once. The task of gaining permission to construct even the first stage of the line (Beneficence-Cockatrice-Swanhaven) ran into political problems within Swanhaven. Vesperian switched to another barony, but the ruling aristocracy required a great deal of expensive soothing before they would grant the necessary permissions to start construction. Worse, the sudden demand for everything involved in producing railway track and steam engines drove up prices all across Beneficence, sending the costs of even the first stretch of track into the stratosphere.
Unable to repay his first set of loans, with the first set of creditors baying at his heels, Vesperian struggled desperately to raise more money. This forced him to up the promised repayment rate (at the height of the bubble, he was issuing notes promising repayment at ten-to-twenty) and, while he was successful in paying off most of his early creditors, this created the impression that the line was already earning money. Bizarrely, Vesperian’s early success only ensured that the eventual – inevitable – collapse was a great deal worse.
By this point, it seemed the entire city had caught railway fever. Thousands of investors poured money into the project, from children offering their pocket money to bankers and wealthy guildsmen offering vast sums. The few dissenting voices – mainly people who had been priced out of the market by the rising costs of iron products – were roundly ignored or mocked. No one wanted to believe that the whole affair was about to end in tears.
Complicating matters was the simple fact that Vesperian was not a very good bookkeeper, let alone an accountant. He wasn’t keeping close track of the number of notes he was issuing, and his estimates of how much money he owed were off by at least an order of magnitude. By the time he realized how badly he was on the hook for literally tens of thousands of crowns it was far too late. Rumors were leaking out and some of his older creditors were demanding repay
ment. His attempt to convince Emily to invest in the project was a final desperate bid to repay his debts. When it failed, he knew he was done for. His death, seemingly at the hands of a god, marked the moment the bubble burst.
The results were disastrous. Vesperian had left behind a great deal of material, but as prices plummeted there was no way it could be sold to recoup more than a fraction of the debts he owed. The notes investors had collected so carefully, blood-bound or not, were suddenly worthless. Thousands of people who had planned their financial affairs on the assumption they would be repaid discovered that they wouldn’t be. Even people who hadn’t invested in the railway were affected; shopkeepers, for example, discovered that their debtors couldn’t repay them (because their money had vanished) while their creditors were hungry for cash and willing to use whatever force was necessary to extract it. Vesperian’s Track was merely the first business to collapse into rubble, countless thousands of workers suddenly finding themselves unemployed. As more businesses followed it, the city’s poor relief found itself utterly overwhelmed.
The Guildmasters were utterly overwhelmed, unable to come to grips with each wave of disaster before the next one hit. There was no way to repay the investors, let alone allow them to repay their own creditors. This led to outbreaks of rioting as investors and creditors alike realized that there was a real risk of starving in the streets or simply being enslaved for non-payment of debts. (Perversely, some debtors calculated that slavery was a better option than remaining free and hungry.) The City Guard simply wasn’t strong enough to control the rioters (and a number of the guardsmen owned notes themselves.) Even as the Guildmasters tried to parse out just how much money Vesperian owed his creditors, events had already slipped beyond their control.
It shouldn’t have surprised anyone, really, that economic collapse was followed by a political shockwave that nearly tore the city apart.
Appendix: Religion in the Nameless World
The Nameless World is quite definitely pagan in how it approaches religion. Instead of a monotheistic religion, it is generally believed that there are entire multitudes of gods and godly families. Indeed, it is agreed that certain gods are actually the same god, but called by different names. (Like Mars and Aries, both Gods of War.) Therefore, despite the vast number of religions and sects, there is surprisingly little religious conflict.
Gods are generally divided into three categories. The Great Gods represent aspects of the physical and spiritual worlds, such as health, war and farming. The Loci Gods represent particular locations and are rarely worshipped outside it. The Household Gods represent a specific household. It is generally considered polite, when entering a city or a home, to visit the temple and pay your respects to the city’s god, even if you are not staying.
(There is some debate over the exact nature of the Household Gods. Some people believe they’re the souls of the family’s ancestors, while others believe they’re actually newborn gods.)
It is important to realize that the vast majority of worshippers believe in the gods, even if they don’t worship them. One is not expected to worship any god – or worship at all, if one chooses – but it is generally considered unwise to deliberately insult a god. Another person’s rites or rituals may seem odd, yet that doesn’t make them invalid. Tolerating other rites is considered good manners.
The vast majority of people will pay their respects to a multitude of gods throughout their lives. However, a number choose to dedicate themselves to one particular god – almost always one of the Great Gods – and never worship any other. These people are devotees (dedicated followers), initiates (junior cultists) and priests (senior cultists).
Unsurprisingly, the majority of religions are effectively cults and operate accordingly. Most of them try to find something unique, something exclusive – and often secret – to draw in new and significant worshippers. A small cult may be quite sincere; a larger cult, which may draw in thousands of worshippers, may be run more as a racket than anything else. Devotees are expected to make contributions, for example; initiates often turn over their possessions to the cult. (A number of cults are astonishingly rich.) Cults also find ways to fleece outsiders – a number of cults operate a sacred prostitution service disguised as a fertility rite, for example; others sell prayers and blessings to those who are prepared to pay.
The general attitudes of outsiders towards specific cults can vary widely. Some cults – the Harvest Goddess followers – are regarded as largely harmless. Others, including the Blood Worshippers or the Crone’s followers, are regarded with considerable suspicion. There are no shortage of rumors surrounding their innermost mysteries and rituals, most of which are exaggerated. Parents tend to get annoyed when their adolescent children rebel by joining some of the more harmful cults. They feel that the rites and rituals serve as an excuse to engage in forbidden practices. They are not wrong.
It is unusual for a government to interfere in religious matters, provided that religious teachings do not threaten public order. Most religious cults don’t attempt to encourage their worshippers to question authority, let alone stand up to their rulers. Those that do are targeted for extermination. Rumors of their presence can unleash a – sometimes literal – witch-hunt.
About the author
Christopher G. Nuttall was born in Edinburgh, studied in Manchester, married in Malaysia and currently living in Scotland, United Kingdom with his wife and baby son. He is the author of twenty-six novels from various publishers and fifty self-published novels.
Current and forthcoming titles published by Twilight Times Books
Schooled in Magic YA fantasy series
Schooled in Magic — book 1
Lessons in Etiquette — book 2
A Study in Slaughter — book 3
Work Experience — book 4
The School of Hard Knocks — book 5
Love’s Labor’s Won — book 6
Trial By Fire — book 7
Wedding Hells — book 8
Infinite Regress — book 9
Past Tense — book 10
The Sergeant’s Apprentice — book 11
Fists of Justice – book 12
The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire military SF series
Barbarians at the Gates — book 1
The Shadow of Cincinnatus — book 2
The Barbarian Bride — book 3
Chris has also produced The Empire’s Corps series, the Outside Context Problem series and many others. He is also responsible for two fan-made Posleen novels, both set in John Ringo’s famous Posleen universe. They can both be downloaded from his site.
Website: http://www.chrishanger.net/
Blog: http://chrishanger.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristopherGNuttall
The Zero Blessing
Caitlyn Aguirre should have been a magician. Her family certainly expected her to be a magician. But by the time she reached her twelfth birthday, Caitlyn hadn't even managed to cast a single spell! In desperation, her parents send her - and her magical sisters - to Jude’s Sorcerous Academy, her last best chance to discover her powers.
But as she struggles to survive her classes without a single spell to her name, Caitlyn starts to uncover an ancient mystery that may prove the key to her true powers...
...If she lives long enough to find it.
Excerpt:
The Zero Blessing
By Christopher Nuttall
Prologue
I SUPPOSE I SHOULD START AT the beginning. It is, after all, a very good place to start.
My sisters and I are triplets, fraternal triplets. We don’t really look that much alike, although we all have dad’s black skin and dark eyes, as well as our mum’s silky smooth hair. Alana is so pretty you’d think she’d been glamoured; Belladonna would be pretty if she took more exercise and bothered to put some work into her appearance; I, always in the middle, look more like a tomboy than anything else. You probably wouldn’t think we
were related if you passed us on the street, let alone that we were born on the same day. But we were.
Our parents – Joaquin and Sofia Aguirre – are two of the most powerful magicians in Shallot City, if not the kingdom. Dad’s a skilled enchanter with a whole string of apprentices working under him; mum’s the best potions’ brewer in the world. Having three children – and triplets, too – is a big thing for them. The magic grows stronger, we are told, when children are born and raised together. My sisters and I should have safeguarded the family’s inheritance for the next generation. Instead…
We were seven years old when it happened.
We’d had a birthday party, of course. Lots of presents, lots of sweet foods and a big cake dedicated to the three of us. Our friends came round and we had a great time, but our excitement was dulled by the knowledge of what would come afterwards. Dad had been talking about teaching us magic for some time – we’d already learnt some of the background knowledge taught to every magical child in the kingdom – and today we were going to start. I was excited. We all were. We’d seen Dad work wonders, ever since we were old enough to understand. We couldn’t wait to work wonders ourselves.
And so, when the party was over and the guests had gone, we walked into Dad’s study and sat down at the table. The tools were already waiting for us.
Anyone can do magic. It’s a rare person indeed who cannot master a basic firestarter, a water-cleaner or the other housekeeping spells listed in 1001 Spells for Practical Work. Fishwives use them to clean the air; broadsheet writers use them to send messages right across the kingdom. But magic, like music, requires talent. Anyone can learn to tap out a tune on the piano, but playing properly is hard. So it is with magic. The sooner you start learning, the better you’ll be.
Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12) Page 39
