Monday, November 08, 2004

Chapter IV - continued yet again.

Soon to be finished.




"I dare say this represents truly what we, what the academy, and what our Order has always stood for. Long live the cause of neutrality, and the Keeping of the Balance!" Derlen was glad that his continual bickering had at last stimulated the committee into coming up with a good idea. "So we shall hold the customary referendum now."
He did not even have to speak the traditional question before nearly all hands were raised in unison.
"I would say that is enough of an answer." Derlen said happily. "We can leave the exact composition of that force and its plan of action to the Battle mages of the Third, that's their job.
"Meanwhile, we should dispatch an operative to Lendra." There was a bit of a silence at that. "She's the leader of the rebels. A countess of the southern provinces, who is rather fed up with the current tax rates to the sovereign. If we negotiate with them covertly, we will be able to make this a lot smoother than otherwise."
Tarla was unimpressed. "Balance, Derlen? Why do you want to send an emissary to the rebels, but not to the King?"
"Because they are the underdogs in this conflict." Ayin answered before Derlen could reply. "To aid them will help restoring the balance, not destroy it. Besides, the rebels have no choice but to work with us. This is their only chance, and they will jump on it. Whereas Taral shall be Greatly Displeased indeed if he finds we are pursuing any goal but his own victory in this war." He paused.
"I sympathize with them." Grinned. "And Canae knows they have reason for doing what they are, with such a King. Besides, I like rebels."


* * *



"I believe this concludes the matter. Then let us move on to the next point." This one will be easy.
"The traders are requesting discounted prices for wizard escorts through rebellion country."
"Would this be unifiable with our plan of action concerning the rebels? After all, to help the merchants refuse their toll requests might put a dint into our negotiations before they begin." Ayin was a practical man with practical morals, as were most of the Dark tower, Derlen remembered. Yes, aid the rebels in their pilfering, so they will work with us in ensuring peace.
"No, I don't believe this will be a problem. The merchant's anger is not directed at the Lendranians. By the letter from the chief of the merchant guild, it seems like brigands have taken it upon themselves to take their own toll on top of Lendra's one, making use the time when that country is not being watched by the King too closely anyway."
"Parasites." Ramon, the water mage Derlen had failed to identify earlier, uttered.
"Yes, the letter is very clear on that point. It is asking for support against the brigands only, not the populists. In fact, the merchants are quite happy that the land is currently under Lendranian control, because as a matter of fact, the rebels demand a rather substantially lower wayfare than the King's collectors did." Total fool, that King, yes. The taxes back then were simply outrageous, I remember.
"How heartwarming." Muriel commented again. Derlen suddenly noticed she was one of the five— no, six with him, only people to have spoken today, out of the forty three that were present. Just goes to prove it again; these Things are useless.
"I move we accede to their request. It is not much asked, we do not need the tithing money that terribly anyway, and it also offers a show of support for the King." Tarla was clear on that. The Order of Magi was funded from the tithing of its members, a percentage tax they had to pay out of all money they earned with selling their magical services. The percentage rates themselves varied, and even the prices were regulated. No mage was allowed to charge more than a fixed price rate for healing within the entire kingdom, for instance, while at the same time most of the other areas were regulated by a minimum price to put a stop to excessive competition, which might have damaged the Order's coffers.
"I shall arrange with our funding department to order all mercenary wizards in this respect. Limit the fees taken from merchants by fifteen percent off the usual rates for the time that their journey leads through rebel-controlled country. Oh, and see to it that the wizards do not follow demands to fight the rebels; simply notify the merchants that this is the result of our negotiation with the guild. Are we in agreement as to that?” A lot of the wizards present raised their hands, but not all; some looked dubious at the not insignificant amount of money this would cost them.

“That would then conclude the second point. Shall we presently move on to the third?” A slight groaning was heard from a few of the Elders; this was the point that had been the real reason for the assembly.
“Theodore has sent a report again. To summarize, he has kept his ear on the ground a little and it seems like there is trouble brewing. The rogue mages a little more daring than usual. The local wildlife around the place concerned very skittish. The weather patterns acting up lately.
He also mentioned the Stargazer Tower down South. Seems like the astronomers have at last found a pattern in the information they’ve got. They established the period of the cycle to within a year, which is quite good when you consider the period is around a millennium. Needless to say, the year they have come up with is this one.”
Ayin Selten stood again. “I myself have gazed into the eye, and found strange goings on in the swirl of the Storm.” The storm was the name by which most mages in Carenath referred to the Chaos rift, the astral plane through whence all nether creatures came and went to and from Kerran. The Eye was a crystal, one of the last Seeing Stones, that was tuned to the plane. “Seems like all those buggers are a bit excited right now. One of their bosses returning from exile, or some such, as closely as I could make out.”
The other Elders were staring at him again, some with amazement, but most with outright hard suspicion. It ain’t easy being a demonologist, it suddenly hit Derlen. Ayin appeared to be oblivious to it however, and why should he not? No matter how they looked at him or what they called him, they needed such as him; he and they both knew that.
“Indeed, if there were a mortal learned in this tier of the Art, who knew what they were doing and willing to do it... if such a one were to be present at the stone and perform the proper rituals, the creature concerned could be freed. Whether the creature will then decide to fulfill its part of the bargain and stay on this plane, or simply return to the nether, glad to be free and turn its back on our world, is another question. That is its own choice. The question now is—“ he paused. “Is there such a demonologist, who is not known by our circle, who is roaming free right now, and who would risk the total annihilation of his or her own soul for a chance at power?”
“There are ever those,” Derlen replied. “The question, rather, is, do they know of the coming event? After all, we ourselves have learned of it but recently, and surely no one would be better informed than the order of Carenath?”
“You can be assured they are, Derlen. The mages that oppose Carenath, it is said, have their own order, their own tower and their own agents.” Incredulous stares at that.
“Traitors to the order and all it represents, of all our kind they hate those of the Sixth most of all. To them, it is us who are renegades, who throw in our lot with the loathed Order rather than with the Guild of Mal’Xyr, to whose banner flocks most wickedness of this realm.” He realized he had said rather more than he had meant to, and was silent.
“How do you know of this?” Ramon, who had been staring most distrustfully, wanted to know.
“We do not speak often of it, but we know. Ever so often, we catch one of them. And ever so often, no matter how carefully we guard ourselves, they catch one of ours – what becomes of these is a matter better not thought about. And ever so often...” he paused again, for dramatic effect “... one of our kind flees, and joins them. They forsake all they are, and if we ever find them, their life is forfeit. But they still risk it, for some hint of the power gotten from exercising their skills and knowledge freely, without regard to the code of the Order.”
“Does Theodore know this?” Derlen demanded. “If there was anyone who needed this knowledge, it would be him!”
“I made sure he does, and I still make sure he is always kept on top of all the news we find of it. What he finds of it, he gives on to us directly, before he reports back, so that we may first counsel him on the matter. Erstwhile, he asked us concerning the entrapment of a powerful... creature, and the ways it could be freed.”
“He reported back on this, saying that your tower had been in agreement with his theories.”
“Yes, and so we were. Such binding spells may indeed be woven into the very star cycles themselves, thus that they cannot be undone before the same constellation comes to pass again. Of course, it is rather difficult to find such a pattern that will make the spell last longer than a few years.” But Baltazar did. Entrapping his own uncle inside the focus he had built for him, he could be sure he would be avenged when the time came.
“And when the constellation returns, the spell falls apart? Like a lock that has been opened by a mystical key?”
“No. Rather it is like a lock that turns thus that the key will fit again. It shall still require a magic-knowing person to perform the proper ritual; and I am quite certain this ritual is not commonly known. I myself have no idea what it could be, and I doubt it can be found in any but the most ancient, incomprehensible and dangerous tomes in the library of the Sixth. In fact, I doubt even those of the Guild know it. It would take one person to be sure of what they were looking for – and with a half-garbled folktale to go from, not many would be sufficiently enthusiastic, to be obsessed to the point of insanity by accomplishing this goal, in order to have the right motivation that would be required for seeking through all these old scripts. It may take a cycle, it may take ten, and all the while they would not be sure there time is not wasted. Demonologists grow old, like all others, and to waste more than a tenth of their life on a mere tale is not appealing.” He looked glum as he spoke, because inside, he knew there were mages that insane, who would risk everything on a mad chance. “Nevertheless, there is grave danger; for the texts of sorcery from that time have not all been accounted for. We do not know who might have found them, who might at this moment be reading them.”
Pearsen Ruthoc, archmagus of the Third, the tower of fire, rose and spoke. “Then I move that we send a guard of highly trained wizards, of the Third and Fourth both, skilled in battle and in the sorcery of light, to guard the pike for the next few months, perhaps for the next year.”
“Pearsen, are you aware of what this would mean? There is no habitation, human or otherwise, within easily a hundred miles from the stone. To establish and maintain a camp in that Tar-forsaken wilderness, especially during this cold season, would be madness! Mages are hardy, but they are no soldiers. Who would you send, to take on this mission?”


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