“I’ve never thought of you as a commoner,” Marc objected.
Rose pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well he is a little common you have to admit Marcus.”
Marc chuckled, “True, but I’d never have said it.”
“You just did!” I complained. “Besides, the last time I checked being a commoner was nothing to be ashamed of, and after meeting Sheldon, being a noble certainly isn’t always something to brag about.”
Rose patted my shoulder, “Don’t act so wounded, we were just teasing. After all, you still hold the highest station here, and Marcus is the commoner these days.”
Marc winced visibly at the reminder. “What her ladyship is trying to tell you is that the king decided to simplify his situation after making peace with you,” he said, returning the conversation back to its intended course. “Returning you to the fold and rewarding you for defeating Gododdin makes you a hero and would have put Sheldon in a very awkward position. At the very least it would have created division and in-fighting amongst the nobility. Many of the other lords would have felt a lot of sympathy for Arundel after the way you abused him.”
“He abandoned his own people,” I reminded him.
“I understand that, but what you have to understand is that for many of the lords that is a small matter beside humiliating the man, abusing him in front of his servants, taking his possessions, and then sending him packing with nothing but the clothes on his back. Especially since the man that did all that was seen as a ‘commoner’ as you just mentioned,” Marc explained.
“And executing him will make them feel better about me?” I asked sarcastically.
Rose spoke up, “Not exactly. What it does is send an immediate message that the king is very serious about rewarding you. It eliminates your most prominent enemies at the outset and also neatly clears up the matter of several violent deaths that occurred within the royal palace. That will give pause to anyone that might think to create trouble, for they will know quite clearly which side of the matter the king is on.”
It all sounded very neat and precise but I didn’t like it. As usual human lives were being treated with little more concern than a player has for his chess pieces. “That’s wonderful for me then isn’t it?” I announced with a bitter tone.
“For the most part,” Marc replied.
“And what happens when I become ‘inconvenient’ one fine day?” I asked pointedly.
“That’s a possibility that all men of station have to consider. In general there are two practical strategies for dealing with it,” he said.
He paused and I gave him a flat stare, I didn’t feel like playing twenty questions. Eventually he decided to continue despite my lack of prompting.
“The first,” he said sourly, “is making damn sure you don’t become ‘inconvenient’, as you put it.” He paused again, but I merely stared at him some more.
Rose winked at me. “What is the second Marcus?” she asked gaily.
“Thank you Rose,” he told her. “The second is making sure you always use a taster before you eat, keeping a lot of men like Sir Harold there around, and always wearing a chain shirt.”
I raised an eyebrow, “I don’t recall you ever doing any of that.”
“I was never important enough,” he said bluntly. “You, on the other hand, have more attention focused on you than even the king does at the moment. It pays to be ready for the worst.”
“You’ll be glad to know that you and Dorian are in complete agreement,” I said dryly.
“You can add me to that list,” said Harold, speaking for the first time.
“How would you like to be my new food taster?” I shot back, but I smiled to let him know I wasn’t serious.
Chapter 20
I was sitting in the same private reception chamber I had met King Edward in for the first time, back when James and I had been slightly inebriated. On this occasion I was entirely sober and prepared for the worst. Harold and one of my other men at arms were waiting outside, beside the king’s own armsmen. Weapons weren’t permitted in the presence of his royal majesty, except in the case of high ranking nobility, though I had declined to wear a weapon myself, partly because it was considered respectful and partly because I really didn’t need one.
I had sent a messenger to the palace the day before, after my arrival, to notify his majesty of my presence in the capital. He had sent my man back with a summons to meet him this morning, to discuss the plans for my award and recognition ceremony. Consequently I now found myself facing him across a small table, watching him sip carefully at a cup of hot tea.
“You haven’t touched your tea,” he said mildly, looking at my own cup.
“Pardon me your majesty, my stomach has been very delicate this morning,” I replied before raising my cup to my lips. Rose had assured me that it was highly unlikely Edward would try to poison me at this point, especially under these circumstances, but I still couldn’t bring myself to drink. I tilted the cup as if I was sipping but I never opened my mouth. In fact I even kept a thin shield between my lips and the liquid, lest some contact poison were present. Was I paranoid? Perhaps, but I was beyond caring.
King Edward watched me without concern, though something told me he was well aware of my deception. He smiled before speaking again, “We are pleased that you returned so quickly.”
“I prefer to waste as little time as possible your majesty, especially when it is your time,” I answered carefully.
“Now that you’re here, we would like to hold the ceremony in two days. That should be enough time for most of the local nobility to arrange their affairs so they can be present. Ideally we should like as many of them to see it as possible,” he said.
I would have preferred to get it over with immediately so I could return home sooner, but I had expected this. “I am not very fond of public honors and accolades, is it really necessary to have such a display your majesty?”
“You possess a keen intellect along with your many other talents Mordecai, but questions such as that one serve to remind me that you were not raised among the nobility,” he replied. I started to answer but he held up a hand before continuing, “Public ceremonies and displays are as much a part of ruling as councils and private meetings. In some ways they are more important, for they cement a ruler’s place in the forefront of his subject’s minds. They also serve to reinforce the nobility’s memory of their own standing in relation to the king and to the one being honored. Never doubt the importance of such occasions.”
I found Edward’s lecture condescending and it re-ignited my anger of the previous day. “Was Arundel’s execution also a reminder?” I asked. My tone was even but my eyes held a dangerous light.
His face took on an amused expression, “One would think that you would be more pleased at the news. We were given to understand that there was no love lost between you and the late baron.”
I fixed him with a direct stare before I spoke, “I dislike seeing people used as pawns, to be played or discarded for matters of convenience.”
Edward’s countenance grew red and his brows drew together as he heard my words. “When you have seen as many winters as I have, buried as many friends and allies as I have, been betrayed and manipulated as I have, then you may judge me. When you have grown old and jaded from long years wielding power, then you may debate my relative worth on the scale of good and evil, until then you can keep your damned opinions to yourself!”
I couldn’t help but notice the king had dropped the royal ‘we’ during his tirade and somehow it made me feel as if I had won a small victory. My own anger dissipated somewhat allowing me to think more clearly. “You assume I will live to such an age your Majesty. Considering my position, there isn’t much chance of me reaching a ripe old age.” Our eyes locked as I spoke and I was certain he could see my resolve, as well as my honesty.
His own anger flickered out as he gazed at me, to be replaced by a sardonic expression. “Don’t count on it Mordecai, I once said th
e same thing, yet I am here still, long past my prime.”
I gave him a grim smile. “Should I be so lucky as to live long enough to judge you I doubt you will still be alive to hear my explanation of your faults,” I said.
“Arrogant bastard!” he exclaimed. “If you do live that long you will have become just as dark and jaded as I am, and wishing you could find my shade that you might apologize for your impertinence.” We glared at each other for a tense moment before we both began to chuckle. It was a dark laughter, born of anger and tension, but it defused the dangerous emotions that lay between us… at least temporarily.
Shortly after that I excused myself. I don’t think either of us really wanted to continue making small talk. Neither of us liked the other, but as long as we could manage a working relationship that was all that mattered.
***
Later that same day I took the opportunity to do some research in the library. I was hoping to find another book about illusions, or possibly some explanation for how someone could hide from my magesight. The memory of the stranger in Cameron Castle still bothered me. However such a thing was accomplished it should be something the wizards of old would have known about.
I spent a fruitless span of hours looking for the information I wanted before I stumbled across something unexpected. I was replacing books that I had taken down earlier to peruse, when I noticed something odd about the wall behind the bookshelf. The pattern of runes there was different.
Every stone that formed the house was enchanted, which meant that spotting something simply by virtue of the presence of a magical aura was useless. In this case however I could discern a very different pattern to the runes woven into these particular stones. There seemed to be five specific points within the pattern that were unconnected, but I wasn’t sure why.
I studied it for a long time before I decided to do something foolish. I knew Penny wouldn’t have approved, but since she wasn’t there to give advice I figured I’d have to do the best I could. And my best was telling me that the five points were meant to be connected by using the fingertips of my left hand. I really couldn’t be sure what would happen then. Surely it wouldn’t be anything bad… right?
I started laughing softly to myself. “It takes a special sort of fool sometimes,” I said to no one in particular. Then I reached out and carefully placed my fingertips on the appropriate spots. The pattern around the five touch points began to glow visibly, rather than just in my magesight, and I could feel a tingling in my palm. For a second nothing else happened and I discovered I was holding my breath, I let it out with an audible sigh. Then I removed my hand and stepped back.
The glowing faded quickly and I thought I must have done something wrong when I heard a click and the wall began moving silently aside, taking the bookcase with it. Seconds later I found myself staring into a small but brightly lit room, one that had been hidden within the library despite all my previous searches. “Well I’ll be damned,” I said to myself.
I stepped inside and the wall closed silently behind me. That worried me a little, but I hoped that getting out would be as easy as entering had been, otherwise I was in for some fun later.
The room I was standing in wasn’t large, being only around six foot by six on each side. It was brightly lit by enchanted lamps that weren’t too dissimilar to the ones I had created for my workshop at home, though I could tell at a glance that the patterns were slightly different from mine.
A long low bench was built against the far wall, and it held an assortment of small tools, hammers and chisels primarily, things that would be useful shaping small pieces of jewelry, or perhaps wood, if one was into carving. None were magical in the slightest, except for one small silver implement. I drew closer to examine it.
It was perhaps the size of a small quill pen, if most of the feather had been removed. At a guess it was about six or seven inches in length and less than a quarter inch in diameter. One end was blunt and the other end tapered gracefully to a fine point. The entire thing looked to be fashioned of pure silver, though it hadn’t tarnished in the slightest. It was also completely covered with tiny and intricate runes, from one end to the other.
At first I was completely mystified regarding its function, until I realized the pattern of runes was familiar, though they were much smaller than the ones I had seen before. They were nearly identical to the runes that formed the main shaft of my staff. The tiny silver implement was a rune channel, created to facilitate the focusing and fine control of power. Its size still puzzled me though.
My staff was large, and rightly so, I could use it to channel a blast of energy over much greater distances, or use it to focus my power into a razor sharp beam, for cutting through an enemy’s shields. Creating a rune channel this size made little sense. I picked it up and held it carefully in my hand, as I would a pen or brush. As I considered its function I moved it idly over the surface of the bench and channeled a tiny bit of power through it. It left beautifully graceful lines of energy across the wood, much finer and more delicate than any I had ever managed using my fingers alone; and as simply as that I understood its function.
It was a stylus of sorts. At least that was the only name I could think of to call it. Historically ancient man had used similar metal implements to incise letters on clay or wax tablets, back before paper had come into wide use. This was similar to that, except it was used to create magical runes, quickly, easily and more precisely than could be done using bare hands. Having seen it I could hardly believe I had never thought to make one for myself before now. It was such a plainly useful thing I felt like kicking myself for not having done so already. Think of the time I could have saved! I thought to myself.
I tucked it into my belt pouch. I could create one myself if need be, but I didn’t see any reason not to take the one I had already found. Then I returned my attention to the room around me. Aside from the stylus, the only remaining objects of possible interest were a small silver bound book and an intricately carved wooden box. The box caught my eye first, for the artistry that went into its carving took my breath away.
I opened it carefully and found myself puzzled by the contents. The interior was lined with soft fabric, now dry and brittle with age. Nestled within that fabric were a number of plain gold rings. Each was identical and scribed with delicate runes set in a very particular pattern. It looked like an enchantment but there was very little residual magic contained within them.
Worked into the pattern were Lycian letters, spelling out one word on the exterior, ‘Illeniel’. I turned one of the rings over carefully in my hands and spotted more writing on the inside of the band, again in Lycian. The words were tiny but they appeared to read ‘trusted guest’. That’s an odd phrase to put in a gold ring, I thought.
I counted the rings and found there were twenty one within the box, though it appeared there might have been more originally. I pondered them for a good while before I set them aside for another day. I had a feeling their purpose would become clear to me later… probably while I was sleeping or bathing. I always did my best thinking when I was relaxed.
Finally I turned my attention to the book. I had been restraining myself thus far, since it was what I desired to look at first. I had saved it for last since I knew it might well take me a long time to make up my mind about its value.
It was a very compact item, no more than six inches in width and only slightly taller. Even though it was bound in silver it wasn’t more than half an inch in thickness and would easily fit into a shirt pocket or pouch. The metal exterior was covered in runes, but unlike the others I had no idea what their purpose was. The arrangements were unlike anything I had ever considered which made it hard to guess whether it was safe to open or not.
“I could stare at those patterns for a year and probably not understand what they’re supposed to do,” I said out loud, as if giving voice to my thoughts would make them more reasonable. “Sooner or later I’ll have to take a chance, and one thing I rarely have t
he luxury of is time.” Having said that, I felt sure it was true. It’s still stupid to open something like that without at least having witnesses in case something bad happens, said a small voice in the back of my head. I quickly hustled that voice down to the basement of my mind and had it locked away where it wouldn’t bother me anymore.
“No time like the present,” I said, and then I undid the metal clasp that held the book closed and flipped the cover open. As I did the runes around the edge of the metal began to writhe and move, as if they were alive, something I had never seen runes do before. A golden light suffused the metal and it felt as though the book itself jumped in my hand, in fact it startled me so much that I nearly dropped it. Gritting my teeth to steady my nerves I watched as the book expanded to slightly more than twice its original size. Once it had finished growing the runes grew still and the book resumed its more usual dormant state. I let out a long held sigh, grateful there hadn’t been some sort of trap.
I looked at the title page and felt my heart jump with excitement when I read the words there. ‘Index of Enchanting Schemata’ was the name of the book. As I stared at it I remembered Moira’s words, “The Illeniels were well known for the many mage-smiths and skilled enchanters they produced throughout history.” This was the first sign of that. Nothing else I had found in the library had so much as hinted at the secrets of enchanting, much less providing full-fledged schemata. I had despaired of ever finding any guidance in the lost art I had somehow re-invented.
I began thumbing through the pages idly, wondering what I might find. One page was titled, ‘Schemata for trans-spatial storage apparatus’. The designs seemed strange but I recognized some similarities with teleportation circles, though the resemblance didn’t go very far. Another page held a diagram for something called a ‘self-locking door’, and yet another contained the schemata for a ‘stasis field effect’, whatever that was.