Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  “They’re not stupid,” Astrid said.

  “I agree,” Tarkon replied curtly. “So, we have to make a very risky wager.”

  “Maybe not,” Gormer said, exposing his face for the first time. He looked pale and sickly, but there was something new in his bloodshot eyes. “Get me close to the lead guy and I can get in his head.”

  Astrid fixed him with a hard, probing stare. He didn’t waver. “OK,” Astrid said. “Right now, that’s plan ‘B.’”

  “You don’t think I can do it?” Gormer asked.

  “That’s not the question,” Astrid said, slapping the table. Gormer jumped. “I don’t order suicide missions. The last time you used magic, it almost killed you.”

  “Sexy over here says she has something for that,” Gormer said.

  “It’s Moxy, fucknut!”

  Astrid held up her hand. “I said, it’s tabled for now. The short term plan as of this moment is to post teams on the approach to Argan and have a main force ready to defend the village. In the meantime, we need to recon Keep 52. I’m sending Moxy and Vinnie to do that at dusk.”

  “I thought you were sending me,” Gormer said.

  “I was,” Astrid said. “But you’re with me tonight.” She turned to Moxy. “Can you make your tincture this afternoon?”

  The pixie nodded her head and glared at Gormer.

  “Then you’re with me, Gormer,” Astrid said. “And if you try to hit your pipe, it’s going straight up your ass.”

  “Wow,” Gormer said. “Kinky.”

  Astrid almost smacked him, but she also wanted to laugh.

  “Woody, George, and Tarkon: you all work together to figure out patrols, sentry teams, and main defense force. Moxy, you work on the tincture.” Astrid took a deep breath. “Gormer, you stay right beside me.”

  Everyone acknowledged the orders except Gormer, who stayed in his chair. When everyone left, he asked. “Why are you doing this?” For the first time since they met, he sounded serious.

  “If you have to ask, you’re not ready for the answer. Come with me,” she said.

  Gormer stood on wobbly feet and followed her to the stables.

  “The horses you came with are worn out,” a young girl said with a note of accusation. “You can take these two. They’re not fast, but they’re reliable. Let them go when you get to Argan and they’ll come back here.”

  Astrid cocked her head and asked, “How will we get back?”

  “We have some reserve mounts in Argan. I trained them to return there.”

  “Why?” Gormer asked. “I don’t get it.”

  “Escape horses,” the girl said. “It’s a bandit tactic. We train the horses that don’t scare easy to return to one place, so we will always have a getaway steed.”

  “This is why I love the bandits,” Gormer said. He caught himself and cleared his throat. “I mean, admire them.”

  They took the getaway horses to Argan. Sure enough, when they dismounted and dropped the reins, the horses stood around a while, then trotted back toward the camp.

  “There’s a flaw in that strategy,” Astrid said. “Anyone can follow the horses, then lay in wait.”

  “You don’t know bandits,” Gormer said. “Did you notice how the girl introduced you to that horse?”

  “Yeah,” Astrid replied. “The getaway horses are trained to kick and bite anyone who’s not a friend.”

  “I didn’t think it was possible to train a horse like that,” Astrid said.

  “Me either,” Gormer said. “But they know which ones will take the training.”

  “Impressive,” Astrid said.

  Gormer nodded his head and followed Astrid to the forge. She stopped short when she found Pleth there.

  He stood sweating heavily in his fancy shirt that was covered by a new-looking leather apron.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Astrid asked with a smile.

  “That’s what I asked when I found him in my shop the morning you left,” the blacksmith said, folding his thick arms across his equally thick chest.

  “Yeah,” Gormer asked. “What’s the story?”

  “I was raised in a village in the West Protectorate,” Pleth said. “My father was a barrel maker.”

  The blacksmith gave Pleth a friendly slap on the back and Pleth winced. The blacksmith didn’t notice. “This son of a bitch woke up before dawn two days in a row to help us make barrels to store the grain. He works his fat ass off. He puts in another shift after dinner and works at least an hour past sunset. We just can’t stop him.”

  Pleth looked down at his fancy, expensive boots that were now work boots, covered in grime and scratches.

  “Why would we stop him?” Judy, the blacksmith’s daughter asked. “We’re almost caught up. In just a couple days, we’ll have enough storage!”

  “It doesn’t erase what you’ve done, Pleth,” Gormer growled.

  Pleth’s head sank deeper. The blacksmith’s family closed in around him. “Maybe not,” Judy said. “But it’s a good fucking start.” She glared at Gormer. Pleth looked up for a moment, then turned back to his work.

  “I don’t trust him,” Gormer said.

  “You haven’t seen him work,” the blacksmith said. “You can’t fake that.”

  Pleth didn’t turn away from his task. Astrid shook her head. “I’m constantly surprised by the things I see from people in this land.”

  “This is a special place,” Judy said proudly. “We believe in the Protectorate. We just don’t believe in the Protector anymore.”

  Astrid dragged Gormer to her next stop, which was the village Scribe’s shop. She found that the little workshop had grown another room.

  They found Vinnie standing in the new room surrounded by what looked like a still.

  “It is very much like a still,” Vinnie replied when Astrid inquired.

  “Damn, fat boy,” Gormer said. “How much liquor do you need?”

  Vinnie smiled at him as Astrid surveyed the copper pot suspended high over some hot coals. A spiraled, glass tube rose up from the pot. It was connected to another glass tube that angled down into a massive flask full of bright red liquid.

  The flask rested on a heavy timber bench strewn with smaller flasks, ceramic containers, and several small jugs. Astrid noticed that every container was sealed with a cork stopper.

  “Vinnie, what is all this?” Astrid asked, suddenly wary.

  “This is a collection of some of the finest craftsmanship I’ve ever seen. The village scribe turns out to be a skilled glassmaker. He made all these containers for the wine-making operation. I repurposed them for my little scheme.”

  “What scheme is that?” Gormer asked.

  “My dear friend,” Vinnie said, with a type of smile Astrid had never seen from him before. “I am so glad you asked me that.” He picked up a leather bulb that had a long tube attached to it. “You just happen to find me in a critical phase in my work.”

  “What phase is that, tubbs?” Gormer asked.

  “The testing phase,” Vinnie said, sweetly. “Let’s step outside for a moment.”

  They went back outside, and that’s when Astrid noticed the bushel baskets of hot peppers. The nature of Vinnie’s work suddenly dawned on her.

  “If you would,” Vinnie said. “Please stand about ten feet apart.

  Astrid stepped away about fifteen feet, but Gormer stayed put. Astrid suspected something was about to happen that she wanted only to observe. Vinnie extended his arm and pointed the bulb at Gormer’s face. A spray of red mist engulfed Gormer’s head, he stumbled back and pawed at his face.

  “Ahhh!” he screamed. “What the fuck is this!” His eyes closed immediately and snot streamed from his nose. “I’m blind, you pigfucker! This burns!”

  “The viscosity is a bit higher than I want,” Vinnie said, as he walked over to a bucket full of milk. “I’m going for something a bit stickier that will be harder to wipe from the skin.”

  Gormer rolled around on the ground cough
ing and cursing. Vinnie walked over to him and planted his foot on Gormer’s chest. “The milk will help,” he said, and dumped the bucket in Gormer’s face.

  “I’m gonna rip your fucking guts out, you fat tub of shit!” Gormer screamed.

  Astrid tried so hard not to laugh, she got stomach cramps. Vinnie bent down, grabbed Gormer by the collar and dragged him over to a trough of water.

  “The new ancients called this ‘pepper spray,’” Vinnie said. He dropped Gormer, then picked him up by the shoulders and dunked his head in the water.

  Gormer tried to wrestle Vinnie away to no avail.

  “Now, rub your face,” Vinnie said. “Rubbing your face with the spray on your skin just makes it worse. I want to see the full effects.”

  “Motherfucker!” Gormer screamed. Vinnie dunked him again.

  Gormer did as he was told and rubbed his face. Vinnie let Gormer go and he knelt by the trough, splashing water in his face.

  “I know it’s painful,” Vinnie said. “But you have to open your eyes and get water in there.”

  “I’m going to kill you!” Gormer choked.

  “Not likely,” Vinnie said. “Better men than you have tried. But I respect you for your courage.”

  Vinnie draped a towel over Gormer’s shoulder and brought over another bucket of milk. “Splash the milk on your face a few times, then go back to the water. You should be OK in an hour or so.”

  “You’re a dead man,” Gormer threatened again.

  “I’ll see you in an hour,” Astrid said.

  “Bitch,” Gormer said flatly.

  When Gormer was out of earshot, Astrid said, “I know he kind of had it coming, but you could have warned him.”

  “The opportunity was just too delicious,” Vinnie replied as they reached the village center.

  Astrid leaned back against the wellhead and looked at the sky. “What do you know?” Astrid asked.

  “I’ve been getting regular reports from Woody and his patrols. We are in some trouble here,” Vinnie answered.

  “Understatement,” Astrid retorted.

  “We can do a lot with this pepper spray,” Vinnie replied.

  “It seems temporary,” Astrid noted. “You dump that stuff in a battleground and everyone is affected. We’d need to hit them with that, then use ranged weapons to finish them. We don’t have enough shooters.”

  “True,” Vinnie said. “We’ll just have to get more creative. They are likely to take us from multiple points. That is what I would do.”

  “True. If I can get Gormer into shape, he says he can get inside the head of whoever is in charge and find out exactly what he’s planning.”

  Vinnie shook his head. “You seem to think the best of people,” Vinnie said. “Gormer only cares about Gormer.”

  “I disagree,” Astrid said. She gave Vinnie a smile that caused his eyebrows to arch.

  “Up until this point, I’ve not doubted anything you’ve done. But Gormer… ”

  “Good,” Astrid said. “If this works out, you’ll likely never doubt me again.”

  “I hope so,” Vinnie replied. He thought for a moment, they added, “You know what? You’ve convinced me already. You see things in people that others just don’t.”

  Astrid smiled in reply. “ That’s why I’m sending you and Moxy on a recon mission to Keep 52 tonight. I’ll need—”

  “Numbers and disposition,” Vinnie said.

  “Very good,” Astrid replied. “Something tells me you’ve done this kind of thing before.”

  “Unfortunately,” Vinnie said. “Many times before. I was hoping I’d never have to do it again. That’s why I became a man of science.”

  “I’m sorry,” Astrid said. “How about I promise that I’ll work to get you out of this kind of work?”

  “Please don’t,” Vinnie chuckled. “It’s not a likely goal. Something tells me you and I will be at this a long while.”

  Gormer walked up to them soaking wet. His eyes were puffy and nearly closed.

  “Good one,” he said to Vinnie. “I love a good practical joke. But two can play at this.”

  “I look forward to the challenge,” Vinnie said.

  Gormer slapped Vinnie on the shoulder, then walked away shaking his head.

  22

  Later, in Argan

  Vinnie and Astrid consulted with Popova while Gormer slinked off to put on dry clothes. Astrid hoped that he didn’t have any drugs squirreled away that he might sneak away and consume. If he did that, she resolved that would be the end of their relationship. She had already extended herself and had no more slack to give.

  They sat at Popova’s rough table in the late afternoon. The old woman looked tired and worried.

  “I thought it might come to this,” Popova said, “the very minute Tomescu suggested we seek out champions.”

  “As did I,” Astrid said. “Things escalated so quickly.”

  “But I have no regrets,” Popova said, her eyes looked weary, but still resolute.

  “Me either,” Astrid and Vinnie said at the same time. They looked at each other and for a moment, Astrid felt she could do mental magic. She felt they were of the same mind as sure as she knew what must happen next.

  They both knew what this was all about. The old, conventional wisdom about punching the bully was horse shit. You punch the bully and he comes back, or you have to fight all his friends, or both. You have to keep fighting the bully and his friends, and make sure anyone else who thinks about replacing him knows how painful it will be for them if they try.

  “What will happen next?” Popova asked.

  “A fight,” Astrid said flatly. “It’s just a matter of time. It may even be tonight.”

  Popova bit her lip.

  “Woody and George’s people are preparing to defend the village now,” Astrid said.

  “Yes,” Popova replied. “Some of my people have been training with them.”

  “It’s not enough,” Astrid said. “We’ll keep your people back unless things get really bad. Three days of training just isn’t enough.”

  “The bad news,” Vinnie added, “is that we are facing Jank’s elite mercenaries. I have to tell you that they will kill us all if they can.”

  Astrid clenched her jaw and looked down at the table. She was grateful that Vinnie told Popova that because she didn’t have the heart.

  “I will do anything to prevent that,” Astrid pledged, meeting Popova’s eyes again.

  Popova covered Astrid’s hand with hers. “I know, Astrid, I know,” she said.

  A knock at the door startled them. Astrid and Vinnie both shot up from their chairs ready to fight until a young voice called. “It’s time for dinner, Elder.”

  “Will you eat with us?” Popova asked.

  Vinnie looked hopeful, but Astrid had to dash those hopes. “We need to get back to camp right away. I just came to collect Vinnie and consult with you.”

  When they left the Elder’s little hut, they found more men from the bandit camp taking up positions around the village.

  “We need guard towers,” Astrid said. “But we just don’t have the time.”

  “What about bags of earth?” Popova said.

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” Vinnie asked.

  “You were busy,” Popova said with a smile. “Now that we have barrels, we have a lot of spare grain sacks.”

  “Tell everyone to start digging,” Astrid said, her gaze directed out toward the fields. “The bandits will know where to place the barricades.”

  At the stables, they found that some young bandits were working closely with the village stable master. It was good to see villagers and woods people getting along. Gormer had seen them heading toward the stables and headed over.

  Astrid turned and studied him closely. “I’m not fucking high, OK?” he hissed.

  “Good,” Astrid said. “Get on your horse and come with us.”

  Gormer avoided looking at Vinnie who didn’t seem to regard Gormer at all.

/>   “I don’t give half a shit about what’s going on between you two,” Astrid said. “But if your little tiff gets in the way of our mission, I’ll skin you both alive.”

  Both men looked shocked. “Understood,” Vinnie said.

  “Got it,” Gormer complied.

  To Astrid’s immense surprise, Gormer moved his horse closer to Vinnie and reached out his hand.

  “That was a good one,” Gormer said. “But when this is over, you’re going to find out who’s the best practical joker.”

  Vinnie shook on that and bellowed laughter. “This, I want to see,” he said.

  “Boys,” Astrid said, shaking her head and riding before them a bit faster.

  They encountered another camouflaged patrol. Even while meditating, Astrid had a hard time detecting them. She made a mental note to work on training the young scouts further.

  That’s when she realized that deep in her heart, she had no plans to leave this place. At least not for a while. She filed the thought away for later. Had she found a home?

  The secret camp was looking more like a military encampment than a hiding place. It sounded like one, too.

  Astrid went directly over to Woody, who was in charge of the camp by default. “We need to work on sound discipline. I could hear the camp about a mile away.”

  “It’s hard to keep bandits quiet,” Woody remarked with a disinterested shrug.

  “Well, we need to meet that challenge, then,” Astrid replied. “Start by telling them to keep their voices down. No shouting. Whispers carry further than low voices.”

  “I didn’t know that, but we usually use animal sounds,” Woody said.

  Astrid continued. “Leather straps need to be oiled, so they don’t creak. Same thing for armor. Swords and crossbows need to be carried so the hard parts don’t clank. Use scraps of leather for that.”

  “Hold on,” Woody said. “That’s a lot.”

  Astrid had Woody gather up a few fighters for a quick lesson. They fanned out and taught others, and soon, the word would spread to all the fighters. The bandits were quick studies.

  She already knew the bandits had deep knowledge of how to move silently through the forest. That had already served them well.