Mud and Magic Ch. 06

"The next morning, the patrol was back. I had been with Dara that night so I had a good vantage point as things deteriorated. Daffyd and the patrolmen argued, things went out of hand and suddenly there was the flash of steel as one of the black riders drew his blade. Daffyd disarmed him with a punch to the face, took up the sword and the next moment, everything went to hell. The others recovered from their shock quickly and, before I could do anything, they ganged up on him. Daffyd was a mercenary once but even he was no match for four angry and trained warriors. The one he disarmed drew a pair of daggers and the four of them swamped him, cutting him down where he stood.

Dara was with me when it happened, right behind the counter. I saw the color drain from her face as she had to watch her brother be killed right in front of her. Wordlessly, she went into the back and returned with a hatchet. While the patrolmen gloated over Daffyd's mutilated body, she simply walked up to them and smacked the first one in the back of the head, cutting his skull open like an over-ripe fruit. No screams, no tears, just icy-cold determination. When the first one fell, she plucked up his sword and tried to engage the next one but by now they had recovered. She fought like a furious grizzly bear but they knocked her out with a pommel strike to the face."

Celeste dabbed at her eyes. "I knew we were done for. Disrespecting Carver's men was one thing, killing one of them..." She sighed. "They locked down the inn and sent word back to the Fortress. Within the hour, Faedal, the herald and thirty men arrived. They tried Dara right in the taproom and kept me as a witness."

"How did it go?" Thurguz asked.

"About as well as you can hope," Celeste said quietly. "Dara admitted her deed and the herald declared her a murderer, to be nailed to the cross for all to see, alongside her brother. Dara didn't even flinch as the sentence was pronounced. But then Faedal intervened. He asked the Herald: 'How profitable is this village?'"

"What has that to do with anything?" Rhys asked, anger rising within him.

"The herald consulted his ever-present book and announced that Thornton Estate ranked in the lower fifth of all their holdings. Faedal's smile widened and he proclaimed that instead of simply crucifying Dara, the whole village would serve a new purpose -- making sure all others would improve. Four men dragged Dara onto the green while the rest swarmed out, to deliver Carver's justice." Celeste fell silent, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

"What about you?" Rhys asked. "Didn't you say Faedal left you alone?"

She laughed bitterly. "He withdrew his protection the moment Dara was nailed to the cross. I had fled back to the shrine, praying for the soul of my friend and lover when he came in." Celeste shot a look over at Mirrin, who was as spellbound by her tale as the others. Elara had curled up on the girl's mattress, purring loudly. "He snatched my holy symbol -- it blackened in his grasp, then he tore my robes off and proceeded to... have his way with me while around us, the village was slaughtered. He had me kneeling in the doorway, naked, watching as the carnage unfolded while he abused me. And when there were no more people to kill, he called upon Desire to level the place. And as he stood there, spattered with my blood, naked and triumphant, a huge fireball fell from the sky, immolating the inn and everything around it. I didn't wait for him to return, to add my name to the list of the dead. I hobbled downstairs, into the crypt, to where my emergency supplies were. I drank the last healing potions I had, wrapped myself into a blanket and tried to teleport to the Tower, like you told me," she said to Thurguz. "It didn't work."

"Why not?"

"Probably because I have left the ways of sorcery behind. Maybe because I was bleeding like a stuck pig from Faedal's ...attention. I couldn't grab the strands of power. And then there was a horrible racket from upstairs, like someone throwing the pews around. Before I knew it, Faedal was back. He dragged me back to the Fortress, said he wasn't quite done with me yet."

"How did you manage to escape?" Thurguz asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Two days ago, he suddenly left his chambers. Carver had called for him and he simply let me lie on his bed like the blood-soaked covers. I tried again and again until I managed to wrest the strands of power around myself. I landed in the Entrance Hall and someone found me."

"He just let you go?" Thurguz asked.

"I was no threat to him," Celeste sobbed. "My holy symbol was broken and only the Mother knows where it's fallen to. My body hurt in every way conceivable -- he only healed me when absolutely necessary - and he didn't know I was a sorceress once. When he was summoned by Carver, he just said 'I'll be back' and left, not even wiping the blood and cum off his body as he went." She locked eyes with him. "You don't think I'm a plant, do you?"

"I need to take every possibility into account," the half-orc began. "Nothing personal, dear."

Celeste's eyes spit fire. "I- I..." She opened and closed her mouth several times. "You can't be serious!" Celeste slid out of bed, nearly collapsing as her feet hit the floor. "You think I let myself be brought to the edge of death so Carver and Faedal can get at you through me? Have you finally lost your mind?"

"I didn't say you being a plant was my conclusion but the thought did cross my mind. I can't believe that Faedal or Carver would let such an important hostage just slip free," Thurguz said, trying to appease the furious cleric.

Celeste yanked a blanket off her bed, wrapped herself into it and stumbled towards the door. "You should stop treating us like chess pieces," she hissed as she went. "You're worse than him." The door slammed shut behind her.

Elara shifted back into her elven form. Mirrin nearly jumped from her bed. Gone was the sleek silver-furred cat, replaced with the long-limbed and naked druid. "You sometimes have all the diplomatic finesse of a battering ram," she scolded Thurguz. "Normally, I'm all for honesty but even I know when a little white lie would have gone a long way to make her feel safe." She slipped from Mirrin's bed, claimed her discarded robe and dashed from the room as well.

An uneasy silence fell over the room. Thurguz looked at his hands, his face a sunken mask of sadness. He muttered something to himself Rhys didn't quite hear.

Eventually Mirrin cleared her throat. "Excuse me but what will happen next?"

Thurguz sighed, a sound coming from the deepest recesses of his soul. He looked up and dabbed a tear from an eye. "First, you need to heal and put some meat on your bones. That's enough to worry about. If you don't mind, I would like you to stay here, with Celeste should she come back. I think neither of you should be alone right now."

"But I want to be with Rhys. His room not big enough for two?" Mirrin asked, pouting.

"His room is just a few doors down the corridor. Once you're strong enough to walk, you can always visit him. Until then, the both of you are best served when he has solitude for his studies."

The door opened and closed. "Or when his girlfriends come to visit," Sen said flippantly. "Did you like the food, Mirrin?"

"Hello again, Sen. Yes, it was very tasty." Mirrin eyed Rhys with a mixture of suspicion and respect. "You have girlfriends?"

The young sorcerer blushed. "It's... complicated," he began, his voice trailing off.

Sen opened her mouth but a warning growl from Thurguz cut her off. "No gossip, young lady," he rumbled.

Let the gossiping begin, Rhys thought, horrified. He knew enough about girls or women of any age. They could not resist gossip of any kind, and Mirrin, with her razor-sharp wit, was a virtuoso at mud-slinging. Before the day is done, she will know every dirty little secret of mine. He sighed.

Sen collected the tray and assorted vessels, favoring Rhys with a playful grin. The door opened again. Idunn and Elara, a barely upright Celeste between them, entered the room. Elara guided Celeste back to her bed. "You should not strain yourself so," she said gently. "We've worked long and hard to keep you together. Brash actions like earlier only prolong your suffering."

Celeste hissed something Rhys only got in parts. Thurguz' name was involved.

"Don't mind him," Idunn said soothingly. "He can be an insensitive old fool sometimes."

"You know I am right here," Thurguz said, "perfectly able to hear what you say?"

"You deserve every tongue-lashing today," Idunn admonished him. "Upsetting her to the point where she ran from the infirmary is not healthy at all." The dwarf woman's eyes met Rhys'. "Meet me below. It is high time we resumed your training."

"Don't you have more pressing concerns?" Rhys asked, indicating the room.

"No, I don't. Our patients are out of the woods and I trust Elara and Galdor to check in on them once an hour or so. Besides, she is the more accomplished healer here."

"Don't sell yourself short, Mistress," Elara purred. "I'm only as good as my healing spells, and they run out eventually. Your healing arts-"

"No need to butter me up," Idunn muttered, tucking a few strands of hair which had escaped her bun behind an ear. "Anyway, Rhys. Training room three."

"Yes, ma'am." He hugged Mirrin one last time. "I'll be back later, promise."

"Oh, I hope so. It seems you have quite a few tales to tell and you know how quickly I get bored, brother." Her grin was both cheeky and radiant, reminding him of all the good times they had had together. Suddenly, the world wasn't quite as dark.

* * * *

Idunn closed the door with her heel and strode purposefully through the octagonal room, bearing a wooden box. A large book rested on top of it. Grunting, she put the box down in the center of the room and claimed the book. She locked gazes with Rhys.

"So far, we have primarily focused on the finding and manipulating of power sources. You know how to collect and consolidate energy into projectiles or protective barriers in a reasonably expedient manner."

"Not that it helped me much in my recent troubles," Rhys said. "The undead sorcerer at the toll booth... and the skeletons under Storm Harbour." He fell silent. "I still feel horribly ill-prepared for actual combat."

Idunn grinned wickedly. "Well, I hear you are very fond of playing with Disjunction stones. What good is a sorcerer when he can't use magic? Thurguz has told me you learned the basics of dispelling but we will save that particular topic for later. Until then I urge you to use the pebbles only as a last resort and try your arsenal of spells first then your weapons."

"I'll try."

Idunn shook her head. "You sound like a ratkin trying to abstain from his cheese addiction. That will not do."

"What do you want me to say instead?"

"Nothing. I'm aware that your arsenal of spells is still limited. So today, instead of learning a particular spell or suite of spells, I want to teach you a way of thinking, along with a few dirty tricks to help you accomplish your goals." She tapped the book on her lap. "Ever heard of Thornfoote's Paradigm?"

Rhys shook his head. "No. It wasn't mentioned in 'Combat Magic Condensed.' What is it about?"

"To put it simply, Thornfoote proposes to use the minimum amount of energy for a maximum of effect." Idunn put the book aside and opened the box, pulling a small pumpkin and a metal helmet from it. She put the helmet over the pumpkin and placed it on top of the box. "You know how strenuous it is to conjure a Force Missile, aim it at an enemy and damage them with it."

Rhys nodded. "Especially when there are others trying to kill me at the same time."

"And there is the distinct probability that your initial spell didn't take him out of the fight. Armor, magical defenses or sheer stubbornness can mitigate the effect your combat spell might have."

"Are you telling me that all the training you had me go through so far was for naught?" Rhys asked. The anger he thought under control broiled, barely subdued beneath the surface.

"Absolutely not. I am offering you another tool in your arsenal. There is a time for fireballs and a time for other options to quickly neutralize your enemies. Watch."

Idunn gestured. Her left hand went through an energy-gathering motion, like Rhys had used many times himself by now. She reached out towards the helmeted pumpkin and closed her right hand. The helmet shrunk, cutting the pumpkin into a pulpy mess.

Rhys whistled through his teeth. "Never thought of that."

Idunn beamed. "Most people won't die from a collapsing helmet but they sure as hell will try to get the thing off their heads, taking them out of the fight. And if they don't try to take it off..." She gestured at the shredded pumpkin. "Thornfoote was notorious for using shrinking and enlarging spells to terrorize his enemies. Proponents of his school of thinking have added a few other spells to that catalog." She pulled a wooden training sword from the box and tossed it Rhys' way.

"Attack me," Idunn ordered.

Rhys eyed her speculatively then gripped the sword with both hands and charged. Grinning, Idunn pushed her hand his way, enveloping not him but his weapon in a quick rush of energy. The handle suddenly became extremely slippery, to the point where it was impossible for him to hold the weapon. A moment later, every knot on his clothing opened. His robe flapped open, his loincloth rustled to the floor and the sandals flew off his feet. Rhys went to a knee to keep from helplessly stumbling.

"Was that strictly necessary?" he asked, winding his loincloth around his waist again.

"Yes. To drive home a simple point. Killing your enemy sometimes isn't the easiest way to take them out."

Rhys finished dressing and wiped his hands on his robe. "I have the feeling we should have started with this kind of spell-slinging."

"The trouble with Thornfoote's way of thinking is this -- without solid fundamentals, manipulating objects is a tad tricky. Also, as you may have seen, timing is crucial. You need to be able to react quickly and accurately, something only possible when you don't have to fumble for every strand of power."

With a pained ring, the helm returned to its original size. Idunn produced another pumpkin. "Now it's your turn."

"And you are sure that shrinking the helmet is so much easier?" Rhys asked her. "I mean, it's solid metal and all that. A blacksmith needs a forge and hammer and strong muscles to shape metal."

"As you will soon see, you are not actually reshaping the metal. You are instead convincing reality that the helmet is a completely different size than it appears."

"Is that even possible?"

The dwarven sorceress laughed. "Didn't you discover your innate gift by making stones fly? That's the same kind of impossible as convincing a helmet to fit on a fingertip instead of a head. Enough second-guessing your own abilities. Try it. And remember -- it's only a temporary change. The helmet has to shrink only for a minute or two, so draw energy accordingly. We can talk about the theory afterwards."

Rhys scratched his chin and eyed the helmet suspiciously. Turning this into a thimble? He exhaled and cleared his mind, which wasn't exactly easy with all the events of the previous two days -- Celeste's sudden appearance, the destroyed village, the skin-of-the-teeth rescue of Mirrin.

You won't be able to face Faedal if you let yourself be distracted at the earliest opportunity, Rhys scolded himself. Another deep breath. One step at a time. He pulled in energy from the half-dozen power sources scattered throughout the room -- the torches, the slight draft coming in from under the door, even the presence of Idunn. Eventually, he had a thrumming ball of force clasped in his left hand. Rhys focused his concentration on the helmet. It was a solid chunk of metal over a head-sized pumpkin. If the position of a pebble was something he could manipulate, why not the size of the helmet? It was all a matter of perspective. He passed energy from hand to hand, weaving it around the helmet in ever-tightening circles and pulled.

The helmet bounced off the wall to his left with a merry ringing.

Idunn applauded. "If a foot soldier had this strapped to his chin, he'd be dead."

"Not what I had intended," Rhys said, gnashing his teeth. He retrieved the helmet and put it back over the pumpkin.

Idunn tapped two fingers against her chin. "Maybe explaining the theory before would help this time."

"Where exactly do I need to attach the energy? With a Force Missile, it's easy. Draw energy, choose the element and let go, preferably in the direction of an enemy. But this?" Rhys spread his arms. "You made it look so easy."

"It is, once you grasp that you don't have to alter the object but only its perceived state."

"You could be speaking Elvish right now," Rhys said. "Sorry."

"Everything has a default state. Water is wet, sand is dry, grass is green and blood is red. Normally." Idunn explained.

"But-" Rhys began.

"You want to talk about ice or steam, right?"

"Yes."

Idunn's smile widened. "We don't change the item itself, but the reality around it. The temperature drops and water freezes. You pour water into sand and gain mud."

"That's common knowledge."

Idunn went on. "And here is the change in circumstance." She pointed at the helmet and gathered energy. It turned from bright and metallic to a warm wooden brown. "We introduce magic to change things. For what it's worth, reality assumes that the helmet has always been made from wood."

"That sounds ... abstract," Rhys muttered as he watched the helmet return to its former, metallic sheen.

"But it works. So, to change an object's size, use the power you have drawn to alter the reality surrounding the object."

Rhys mirrored her energy-drawing gesture and focused his attention on the helmet again. He spun threads of energy around it and instead of pulling or pushing, he forced them to shrink, reducing the available space around the helmet. There was a bit of resistance but after applying more energy, Rhys pulled and pulled until the cocoon of energy seemed to contain a painfully throbbing marble. He opened his eyes. The helmet had shrunk to the size of a small thimble, shredding the pumpkin. He let go of the energy and the helmet returned to its original size with the sound of pained metal.

"Not bad for your first try," Idunn said. "Took you only to the count of forty."

Rhys used the sleeve of his robe to wipe sweat off his forehead. "And it's rather taxing."

"I know." Idunn said. "For us sorcerers, every new application of magic is like a new dance or a combat routine. When a fencer learns new drills, his arms, shoulders and back hurt. Same with the dancer. For us, it is the head." She patted his shoulder. "You can find solace in the fact that it will get easier with practice, just like lifting weights or running will fortify a fighter's constitution."

"Good to know."

"Given your current rate of improvement, it won't be more than a few days of struggle. I don't want to pamper your ego but you're a natural. The speed with which you learn new effects is fascinating. I didn't realize it back at the toll booth but no apprentice should be able to master a Shield spell just by observing another caster perform it."

"No? I found it pretty intuitive how you showed me," Rhys said.

Idunn laughed. Gone was her stern teacher facade, replaced with her motherly side.

"If you think your flattery will make me go easier on you, you are sorely mistaken," she said, a little smile playing around her lips. "But it's true. I knew I had to crunch rocks for days until I was anywhere near this." She pointed at the pumpkin pulp and it vanished. "Since it worked so well, let's do it again. Only faster this time." Banishing all levity, the dwarf woman pulled another pumpkin from the box.