Chapter 27 - Back To School
"To the average subject of the Empire a Mage is a Mage. However, those with more education know that not all Mages are equal. Of course the Empire has its Battle Mages. As the carriers of Her Eternal Majesty's flame in times of war, they are able to shatter armies. However, Mages do have a hierarchy beyond that. Like even the meanest of artisan guilds, Mages have both journeymen and masters. Of course even a journeyman has received their Charter directly from the Throne and ranks among the Barons of the Empire, but masters stand far above them. Then, at the very top are the Archmages. The hands of the Undying Queen herself."
Two Thousand Years of Empire by Jahangir Amini
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“No, I insist, I want you to come and stay with me. It is scandalous that someone of your station has been staying in such poor accommodation. I would be a poor friend if I did not change that.” Cerve’s tone broked no further argument.
Abiel shrugged guilelessly. “Well, if you insist. I do not want to be a bother, I have been perfectly happy staying with Baronet Alzara, he is an old friend of the family after all.” Or rather an easily bribable noble whose house had fallen on hard times.
Cerve waved his hand dismissively. “It would be no bother. You have been nothing but good to me, let me help you in return. My father is the richest man in the city, we can spare a room for you.” Sometimes Abiel actually felt a little guilty for the way he was using the boy.
“Thank you Cerve, if it means we can spend more time together then how could I say no. I shall instruct my servants to move my belongings.” Abiel pretended to hesitate uncomfortably. “About them…”
“Oh. Yes of course, I had forgotten about your odd attachment to your staff. Our boys and girls can surely do a better job, but I am sure they can be slotted in somewhere. I will have arrangements made. I do not see why you do not just send them home, it is not even like Marna is much of a looker, but as you wish.”
And there went any sympathy for the boy. Abiel gave him a wan smile. “We all have our foibles and whatever I might want, father would be most put out with me if I did not keep them close.”
“Ah. To annoying fathers!” Cerve raised his cup and Abiel clinked his against it.
“May they all get piles!”
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Ester slowly opened her eyes, the blurry top of her tent swimming into view. Why did she feel like she’d been mauled by a bear? Everything seemed to be aching.
She blinked sleepily a couple of times, groping for memory. There’d been a fight…
Ester sat bolt upright, ignoring the way her muscles protested. Great Spirits, the fight! But she was alive, she’d survived. It was alright. That Battle Mage had saved her. She could vaguely remember him grumbling about something, but not really what it was about. He must have put her in her tent to rest after the battle.
She should get up and find out what was going on. She needed to see who’d survived. And who hadn’t. Her stomach twisted at that thought. Velxe! He was annoying, but she didn’t want him dead and he’d put himself right between her and the witch. The brave idiot. If he was hurt just from trying to save her… She didn’t know what she’d do.
After a moment Ester looked down at herself, she seemed to be in the same dress she’d been wearing before, but it was spotlessly clean. There was no blood or dirt on it. She was clean too, actually. No mud, sweat or blood. It was as if she’d cast cleaning spells on herself.
She touched her side, where she’d been hit, a bit scared of what she’d find. There was just a hole, like it had been cut away, but there was no pain either. A faint hardened ridge of skin traced itself across her waist, but nothing more. She twisted her body to look. There was no bleeding wound. Or stitches. Just a scar that looked like it was months old. How…?
It clicked in her head and Ester shivered. Someone must have healed her. She could only hope they knew what they were doing. She doubted a proper Healer was out here in the borderlands, but maybe the Battle Mage knew how. Her gaze lingered on the scar, she’d heard too much about what could happen if healing was done wrong. Dire warnings were regularly given to apprentices at the Academy. She didn’t want to die weeks later, skin bulging with tumours made of hair, flesh and teeth!
Eventually she looked away. There was nothing she could do about it now. The Battle Mage would have known what he was doing, surely. Her dress looked odd though, now that she was paying more attention. Slightly shiny and the edges were fraying. It hadn’t been like that before and she was fairly sure nothing in the fight would have done it. With a surge of irritation she realised it must have been the cleaning spell. The idiot man probably used a spell for armoured leather or something like that and ruined her dress.
The absurdity of that thought caught up with her a second later, and she had to stifle a giggle. She’d just barely survived a fight for her life, a large hole was cut out of the side of her dress and she was getting annoyed about someone using the wrong cleaning spell.
It took Ester a few seconds to get herself under control and for the urge to just sit there and laugh hysterically to fade. After a couple of deep breaths she busied herself with changing into an undamaged dress, rearranging the contents of her belt pouch and freshening herself up before she faced the world.
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Ester emerged from her tent into a somewhat reduced camp. Servants were still working, carrying things or cooking. However, there was a subdued atmosphere, people seemed nervous. There was no chatter or cheer.
It was hardly surprising, given what had happened. She had two things on her mind though. Firstly she needed to find out what had happened to Velxe. Secondly, she needed to find something to eat. Her stomach rumbled as if in agreement.
Velxe first. Ester spotted a servant carrying some firewood and moved to intercept him. However, he sketched a bow in her direction and sped up, clearly trying to avoid her. She hesitated in confusion. What was going on there?! She had to hold her hands still to stop them from trembling. So many people were dead. Was it her fault? Did the others blame her?
Ester gave herself a shake. She needed to pull herself together. She spotted another servant and strode towards him. She wasn’t going to be avoided this time.
“You, goodman.” Ester didn’t like leaning on her status, but she needed to know.
The man stopped and bowed low to her, a hint of fear in his downcast eyes. “My lady?”
“I have just woken up. Tell me, what happened to Lord Velxe. Is he…?”
To Ester’s huge relief he relaxed slightly. “Yes my lady. Lord Velxe’s alive. He’s taken a beating, but I dare say nothing permanent, begging your pardon.”
That was… More than good news. Too many people had died already. Even if she didn’t particularly like Velxe, the idea of him dying because he’d put himself between her and some mad witch would have been unbearable.
“Thank you goodman.” She dismissed the servant with a nod. She’d need to find Velxe and thank him. Even if getting in the way of a powerful witch was a stupidly useless thing of him to do. He’d probably been thinking something stupid like only men could fight. Not that she’d done all that well against the witch. Ester’s stomach rumbled again. She’d need to find some food too. Food was important.
The camp wasn’t all that big, even with the profusion of servants that Velxe had brought along, so it took her very little time to reach the edge of it.
Behind one of the tents, near where the horses were tied up, she found a group of armed men stood in a rough circle. It was easy to recognise Velxe, even from behind. None of the others had the same floppy brown hair.
Ester hesitated a little away from the circle, she didn’t want to interrupt if they were talking about something important. Then one of the guards facing Velxe spotted her and jerked his head to get the young lord’s attention.
Velxe turned to face Ester his face lighting up when he saw her.
“Lady Ester, welcome back to the waking world. Are you well? Lord Deljou refused to say anything other than that you would survive.” His face looked bruised and one of his arms was bound in some kind of sling. There was also a certain tentativeness to his movements that reminded Ester of how her own body felt.
“I am well Lord Velxe, thank you. Who is Lord Deljou?” It was mostly true. She felt battered and bruised rather than actually injured.
Velxe looked confused for a second. “Oh, I thought you might have known him since you are a Mage after all.” He ignored Ester’s irritated frown. Why would he think she’d know him? “Aziz Deljou, the Battle Mage leading our rescue party.”
Ah, that made sense. Although he should have realised she wouldn’t know every Mage out there. “Lord Deljou healed the worst of my injuries. What about you? I had worried that you had been killed.”
Velxe laughed at that, although the humour didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It takes more than a rogue Arcanist to put me down. I have been better and it will be a while before I am fully recovered,” he glanced down at the sling, “but no permanent damage.”
A little of the weight left Ester’s shoulders at that. “I am glad to hear it. You put yourself between me and the wi… Arcanist and I owe you thanks for that and I had worried…” She trailed off.
“No doubt you would have done the same for me.” Velxe dismissed it with a wave. “You just need to stop making a habit of getting into these situations!”
Ester felt her face heat at that. It wasn’t like she sought them out! Luckily Velxe just barreled on without noticing.
“Anyway, if you are looking for the other Mages, they are off that way,” he gestured to the side. “They did some scouting for any other threats, but I think they plan to move on soon. Lord Deljou is talking to them about something I think.”Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Ah.” After a second Ester decided that wasn’t eloquent enough. “I suppose I had better go and speak to them then. Thank you Lord Velxe.” Her stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly.
Ester winced at the amused grin that instantly appeared on Velxe’s face. “It sounds like you should probably eat something first.”
She immediately shook her head, she had no intention of being laughed at. “No, thank you. I should speak to Lord Deljou first. I want to thank him before the Mages leave.”
Velxe raised an eyebrow. “I am sure they will be here for long enough for you to have something to eat Lady Ester. Still, if you insist, then at least let us give you a bowl of stew to eat on your way.”
Had the Mages camped that far away from the rest of them? Ester was about to say no when her stomach cramped to remind her of just how hungry she was.
“Very well, thank you Lord Velxe, I will take you up on your offer.”
A couple of minutes later Ester was heading, a bowl of stew in her hands, spooning it into her mouth as she walked. It was nothing special, but given how hungry she was it tasted fantastic. Now to find the Battle Mage and the others.
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Mohsen sat, back straight, his focus on Aziz. Just as was appropriate for a trainee wishing to attain the title of a Battle Mage. It galled occasionally, having to think of himself as a trainee when he was a full Chartered Mage and had been for over a year, but sacrifices had to be made.
“Very good.” Aziz nodded to the three trainees. “Now, let us move on to your performance against the Arcanist. It is rare to have such a strong opponent available for a true fight, so you were lucky to have the opportunity.”
Mohsen nodded to himself at that. Short of an actual war, real battles with powerful magic users were hardly common. Sparring was not at all the same.
“So, the first question is, how do you feel you performed and what, if anything, would you have done differently? Sahand, you first.”
Mohsen’s fellow trainee shrugged. “I think we did well. We were successfully suppressing the Arcanist, which was what we needed to do. He was sufficiently distracted by us that you were able to get close and deal with him. In the longer run, the three of us would have had sufficient power to beat him down, even without Aziz’s own attack, he could not have held out forever against three Mages.”
Mohsen nodded at that. It had been impressive that the Arcanist had lasted as long as he had, but he must have been struggling. If Aziz agreed he did not show it in his voice.
“I see. Mohsen. What is your view? What spells did you choose to use and why?”
Mohsen allowed a laconic smile to spread across his face. “I do agree with Sahand. I used Aran’s Greater Fireball as a base for my attacks. I would guess the others did too, from what I saw.” A glance at his fellow trainees let him see their nods. “As for why, I thought that using that as the foundation for what I cast provided the best ratio of destruction to power at that range, particularly given we knew that our opponent likely lacked the more sophisticated disjunction that we might face from someone trained in the Empire.”
“Umm…” The slightly awkward interjection from behind him cut off any response from their trainer. “I know I do not have much experience of this kind of thing, but might it not have made more sense to have each taken a different approach? Perhaps one deliberately casting more complex spells while the other two went for blunt power? I am not sure the wi… uh Arcanist was having that much difficult in holding off the attacks as it was, so might that have made it harder for the witch to dispel everything?”
That voice seemed vaguely familiar. Mohsen turned to look and could not keep himself from frowning. Ester Mazar, because of course it was. He had not paid as much attention as he might have to Metli Velia’s insinuations. After all, what would she know about a Mage, even one who behaved poorly? But right there was all the confirmation that he needed that Metli had been right.
What made the woman think she had the right to interrupt their lessons and to criticise what they had done? Worse, to criticise their tactics when they had been saving her from her own foolishness. Did she not understand proper behaviour? She should have been thanking them on her knees for saving her life and then making herself scarce out of embarrassment for the danger she had put them in.
He glanced back at Aziz, hopefully the man would put her in her place and they could get on with their lesson. Instead Aziz raised his eyebrows and let the silence linger for a few seconds before speaking.
“Well? Lady Mazar asked a question.” Of course the bloody man would see it as an opportunity to make them justify themselves. Still, Mohsen was fairly sure Aziz was no more amused by the interruption than he was.
Of course it was Tobie, the most pathetic of their number, that responded. “That is an interesting point Sister. From my own perspective, I would have said the urgency meant there was no time for coordination and the range and pressure of combat would have made complex spells overly difficult and slow. Ultimately our role was just to distract the Arcanist.”
“Thank you Brother.” She nodded to him with a smile and he flushed. Of course he did, Mohsen sometimes had no idea how Tobie had even managed to get himself accepted as a trainee Battle Mage. Another climber, just like Mazar, although at least he had some noble blood, no matter how low it was.
“Was there anything else Sister?” Aziz’s tone was polite, but at least it was clear that he too did not welcome her interruption.
“Oh, yes, sorry.” She could at least try to sound like a proper Mage. “I just wanted to say thank you to you Brother. Brothers. To all of you, for your intervention. If not for you…” She shuddered and trailed off.
“It was nothing, my advice is not to get yourself into such situations in future, but I am glad we were able to save you. Now, if you do not mind.” Aziz turned his attention back to his three trainees. “I think that is enough on your performance, let us talk more about the Arcanist.”
Mohsen tried to keep his attention on the Battle Mage in front of him, but he could not fully ignore the sound of a spoon and bowl behind him. A glance told him that Mazar was still there, stuffing her face. Of course she was, the bloody woman could not understand a dismissal if it slapped her over the head.
“The search of the Arcanist’s body revealed four hand cannons. As you are all aware, Arcanists tend to combine these with Schemas and use them as an easy way to kill harder targets. In this case, both the hand cannons and the balls contained Schemas, which would have made them far more effective.”
“Oh yes,” Mazar said, “he shot me straight through my shield Schema.” Mohsen restrained himself from responding to her interruption. Of course Tobie had less self-control.
“Really? Where did you buy your Schema, did you expect it to work against him?” Mohsen resisted the urge to groan at his fellow trainee’s enthusiasm, why was he encouraging the woman?
“I made it myself actually.” It was no wonder the Arcanist had shot straight through it then. Yet she had the gall to actually sound proud. “But I had no idea he was an Arcanist, or that you could make a cannon small enough to use by hand.”
“Oh, how fascinating, what did you use as the base array?”
“Tobie.” One word from Aziz was enough to quell Mohsen’s fellow trainee. He looked them over with a frown. “It seems that we are getting distracted from the lesson.” He paused, glanced at Mazar and sighed almost imperceptibly. “That will be all for today. We will stop here for the rest of the day for a break and then practice a night march. You are dismissed.”
Mohsen resisted the urge to groan. Now he was missing out on the tuition that was the whole reason he was in this Throne-forsaken area and was being punished. Of course Aziz would call it a training exercise, but Mohsen had no doubt that having to march through the night was intended as punishment. It certainly would not be pleasant. If only Mazar could keep her nose where it belonged, rather than being so obviously desperate to stick it where it did not.
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“So you based your Schema around a simple repulsion array and most of the complexity was in the conditionality?” Tobie thought he might be half in love already. He’d heard of Ester before, vaguely, but never really spoken to her. That had clearly been an oversight.
“Yes, exactly. The main difficulty was in putting something together that would only stop attacks, rather than absolutely everything. Not just the degradation speed that you would get from a constantly active effect, but also simply being able to breathe.”
“You’d never actually made a protection Schema before though? Why didn’t you just ask someone for help?”
She shrugged with a frown. It was a surprisingly cute look for a Mage, although Tobie suspected that if he ever voiced that out loud he would be made to regret it. “Who would I ask? No one wants to teach these kinds of things to women.”
That got a snort from Mohsen. No surprise there. Tobie had been less than pleased to find he’d been assigned to the same team as the arrogant prick. It only made it worse that Mohsen was the most skilled of the three of them. It was best to just ignore him. Reacting tended to just encourage him. Ester was scowling at him though. Tobie wished he could give her a word of warning. He didn’t want to see what unpleasantness Mohsen would come up with if she tempted him.
“Well I’m impressed for one.” He didn’t give Mohsen a chance to comment. Nor Sahand, although to be fair Sahand was unlikely to say anything, whatever his thoughts. The man was as uptight as anyone Tobie had met, but that also meant he was faultlessly polite. “I certainly wouldn’t want to try to put together a conditional Schema of that kind of complexity from scratch. How did you set the terms?”
“I…” Ester hesitated, although he wasn’t sure why she was nervous. “Actually, I can show you.” She opened her belt pouch and pulled out a small, thick piece of leather and handed it to him.
Tobie took it and looked it over, focusing just enough to look beyond the surface. Tiny runes were carved into it in a spiral pattern. To his eyes each glowed with faint magic.
“You used leather?!” He couldn’t quite keep the surprise out of his voice.
That got another snort out of Mohsen, which Ester thankfully ignored. “I had one on iron, but it shattered when the witch, the Arcanist, shot me. I had already made this one in case I needed a back-up.”
“Surely it only lasts a day or two though?”
“Probably about three once it is activated, but it only took me 30 minutes to make and then actually activating it was a matter of seconds.”
Tobie nodded absently as he looked the Schema over. That was actually impressively fast. “You must have excellent precision for something on leather to last that long.”
That got him the smile he’d hoped for. “I have been experimenting a little with cheaper materials, the trick I have found is around reducing the passive magic in it so that it degrades more slowly. It is all in the levels of conditionality.”
“Ah,” Tobie mentally worked his way along a line of tiny runes in the leather. “I think I see the outline, although I can’t quite work out how they all come together. Not without sitting down for a while and properly studying it anyway. Are there any downsides to your trick?”
He was fairly sure her face darkened a bit, was that a blush? “After taking an impact it makes you sparkle for about a minute.” She at least sounded slightly amused at the problem.
Mohsen snorted again. “Of course it does.”
Ester rounded on him, amusement gone in a flash. “Is there something you want to say Brother?”
Mohsen waved his hand dismissively. “Oh no, Killer, everything is as expected. I have nothing at all to add.”
Killer? Tobie blinked as he tried to work out what that was about. However, if looks could have killed, Ester would have earned the name right then.
“Excuse me?” Her voice was ice cold.
“Very well, you are excused.” Tobie could hear the smirk in Mohsen’s voice. Oh, that was it. Some people had called her ‘Killer’ at the Academy, something to do with a duel. Maybe. He couldn’t really remember. He’d had better things to think about than some junior getting into fights. Perhaps he should have paid more attention though.
“Do you have some kind of issue with my conversation Brother?” Her tone was cold, but polite. He supposed he might call it correct.
“No, not at all Killer, I am just impressed by the efforts you are going to to place yourself in unfortunate situations. You are certainly living up to your name.” Ester’s wince was mirrored by Mohsen’s widening smirk. “How many people have you killed recently? How many people have you gotten killed through your own incompetence?”
“Mohsen…” Tobie tried to intervene, this was beyond inappropriate. But Ester spoke over him, anger lacing her voice.
“What under the Throne is wrong with you Brother? Do you think I want to be attacked?! I nearly died!”
“Mmm yes,” Mohsen sounded as relaxed as ever in the face of Ester’s anger. “You nearly died. As did an important nobleborn and we had to risk our lives to save you. A knight and several guards did die. Yet you want to keep on playing at being a Battle Mage. You have not changed since the Academy it would seem. Grow up, go home and stop playing games. Leave the fighting for those with the aptitude for it. Take up enchantment. Make something positive of yourself. Killer.”
“You…” Ester cut herself off. “You are trying to provoke me. I do not appreciate it Brother.”
“Not at all Killer. I am just stating the facts as I see them. However, we are both Mages, if I cannot discourage you from your course of action, maybe I can help you. Aziz, Lord Deljou to you, said that we have until evening. Perhaps I could teach you a lesson on using magic in combat. It might help you to make sure the right people die the next time you thrust yourself into an inappropriate situation.”
Ester was gripping the skirts of her dress so hard her knuckles were turning white. Surely she must realise it was a trap? There was no way Mohsen planned to do anything other than humiliate her. He should say something.
“Sister, I think you…”
Ester glanced at Tobie and gave him a tight smile. “Thank you Brother, but I shall accept Lord Mohsen’s kind offer.”