Blaze of Glory (6 page)

Much to Aubrey's amusement, George blushed
mightily and tried to hide it under his napkin.

It was when an immense coconut, strawberry and
cream pudding had been placed in front of them that
Duchess Maria directed a fierce gaze at Sir Darius. 'Now.
How are you going to win this election, Darius? You've
been out of power for too long. Look how the Royalists
are ruining the country!'

Sir Darius looked pained. 'Mother, I don't want to
discuss this at the moment.'

Aubrey wanted him to. He wanted to know how his
father was going to combat the Prime Minister's sublime
scheduling of the election. The traditional King's
Birthday procession, with the King and the PM in the
great golden open carriage, would be winding its way
from the Palace, over the Old Bridge and the other six
great bridges and through the heart of the city. It was
one of the few public roles that the King had insisted
on maintaining and that the Crown Prince had been
unable to distract him from by adding another exotic
beast to the burgeoning royal menagerie. The parade
was vastly popular, hundreds of thousands of people
lining the route and cheering. What a start to the
Royalists' campaign, as long as the King didn't do anything
bizarre.

What were the Progressives going to do?

'I wasn't happy when you renounced your title,'
Duchess Maria went on. 'But if you're going to keep up
this ridiculous pastime of being in the Lower House, then
at least you should be at the forefront again.'

Aubrey leaned forward, not wanting to miss a word.
Since Sir Darius had lost the position of Prime Minister
and been expelled from the Royalist Party, he'd been
doing his best to consolidate the Progressive Party, the
new party he had founded. The difficulty was that the
Progressives were a disparate lot, with many different
needs, desires and motivations. Making sure that they were
all pulling in the one direction was a gargantuan task.

'We face a difficult election,' Sir Darius said.

'If the Royalists win,' Duchess Maria said, 'you'll be
condemned to the Opposition benches for years. I
couldn't imagine anything worse.'

'What about the war we're about to have with
Holmland? Surely that would be worse,' Aubrey put in,
before he realised it.
Did I actually say that aloud?
he
thought and he chased a strawberry around his bowl.

All faces turned to him. Duchess Maria looked shocked,
as if a dog had spoken up. A smile hovered on Lady Fitzwilliam's
mouth and she covered it with one hand.

Sir Darius put an elbow on the table and rested his chin
on a fist. 'War?'

'It may not be inevitable, but it is more than likely. This is
why we should be preparing.'
Aubrey stared at the strawberry
on his spoon for a moment then looked at his father. 'Isn't
that what you said in your letter to
The Argus
?'

'And faced a good deal of heat in the party room for
it. Some of us aren't sure what we think about Holmland.'

'Surely they can see what's happening on the continent?'

'Some of them don't even see the trouble that rabble-rousers
like the Army of New Albion and the Reformists
are stirring up. I'm not saying that they don't have some
genuine grievances about the state of the country, but
their methods . . .' He made a face and picked up his
spoon. 'Good strawberries?'

'I won't know until I taste them,' Aubrey said.

Duchess Maria made a noise of disgust. She dabbed at
her mouth and rose from the table. 'If you'll excuse me.'

After she had gone, Sir Darius shook his head. 'That
woman can gently close a door louder than a thousand
cannon.'

'She's anxious, Darius,' Lady Fitzwilliam said. 'She's
seen so much before.'

'Upper House politics?' Sir Darius snorted. 'Any place
where entry is based on your owning a title becomes
party games for the rich and idle. The Lower House is
where government happens, where decisions are made.
The Upper House members just glance at the bills and
approve them, those who are awake. I don't know how
Father put up with the Upper House.' Sir Darius looked
at his son. 'And what do you think, Aubrey? What's the
best way to win this election?'

This was a typical Sir Darius challenge. Aubrey knew
that he expected a reasoned answer. Wit was acceptable,
but it had to have a backbone of rigour. 'Well, sir,' he
began, 'it's a short campaign, and I'm not sure the party is
totally united.'

'True, true. Much to my chagrin.'

Aubrey chose his words carefully. 'And the situation with
Holmland makes things awkward, wouldn't you say?'

Sir Darius sat back. 'Holmland is arming itself and
growing stronger every day. I don't trust it, even though
its Elektor is our King's cousin. I see ambition overriding
any family loyalty. Strength, not words, is what the
Holmlanders understand.'

'Darius,' Lady Fitzwilliam said, 'you're making speeches
again.'

He grinned and suddenly looked years younger. 'I need
the practice.'

Later, as Aubrey and George walked back to school,
George said, 'Your father knows how to inspire people.
If he led, I'd follow him.'

Aubrey didn't say anything for some time. Eventually,
as they neared the school gates, he turned to George. 'His
men always said that,' he said softly. 'Even the ones he
later led to their deaths.'

T
HE NEXT DAY WAS SUNDAY. AUBREY FELT THAT GOING
to chapel might be good for his soul, or for his
conscience, or both. He roused George, who would have
preferred to sleep in.

After the service, Aubrey shook hands with the
minister on the stairs in front of the chapel. The minister
fell into the short, round category of clergymen. Aubrey
liked him because he was a practical, down-to-earth sort,
whose sermons were short but had lingering effects.
Aubrey often found himself thinking about them days
after they were given.

'Thanks, Reverend,' he said. 'You put it all very clearly.
To the church, magic is neither good nor evil – it's the
user who turns it to good or evil ends. So it's a matter of
free will again, correct?'

The minister chuckled. 'Free will. That's what it's all
about, young Fitzwilliam. The church has come a long
way since the dark ages.'

The sun was warm and golden. Aubrey stood with his
cap in hand enjoying the moment as the masters and the
other boys swarmed down the stairs and out into the day
that stretched before them. The scent of the roses and
lavender planted around the chapel came strongly to him
and mingled with the smell of cut grass on the playing
fields. One of the groundsmen was slowly working his
way around the oval, marking the boundary with lime.
High in the blue sky, an ornithopter flapped its way across
the heavens, taking important people from one important
place to another.

Aubrey enjoyed Stonelea and its challenges, but the
world was out there and, with his usual impatience,
he wanted to tackle it. Finish this year – but then which
of his ambitions was he to tackle first?

'A beautiful day,' George said.

Aubrey wrestled briefly with his impishness and lost.
Making sure George was watching, he glanced at the
cloudless blue sky. 'Thank you,' he said and strolled off,
leaving George gaping.

Aubrey had difficulty keeping the smile from his face
as he ambled along the path towards the boarding house.

George caught up. 'You're not fiddling with weather
magic again, are you? Remember what happened last
time?'

Aubrey relented. He grinned. 'No-one's called you
Gullible George for a while, have they?'

George thrust his hands in his pockets, after a quick
glance to see if any masters were watching. 'Dash it,
Aubrey. There's no need for that sort of thing. I was
simply concerned for you.'

'Sorry, George. I don't know what got into me.' Aubrey
paused. 'Going to this morning's lecture?'

George looked longingly at the cricket oval. Half a
dozen fourth-formers were doing some catching practice.
'I have to. The headmaster put me on the list for
luncheon with our guest.'

'You? With all of sixth form to choose from?'

'Yes.' George put his hands in his pockets. 'Who's our
guest lecturer this time?'

'It's Dr Mordecai Tremaine. I'm looking forward to it.'

'The Sorcerer Royal? Of course you are, magic and all
that.'

'Naturally. I hope I'll get the chance to ask Dr
Tremaine a few questions.'

C
LOUGH
H
ALL WAS ALMOST FULL WHEN
A
UBREY AND
George arrived. The Sorcerer Royal's notoriety had
attracted a larger attendance than usual.

Ever since Aubrey had begun seriously studying magic,
he'd admired Dr Tremaine. His copy of the definitive
reference work –
Tremaine on Magic
– was battered and
dog-eared through repeated readings.

Dr Tremaine had risen from obscure beginnings to
become a public figure after being appointed to the post
of Sorcerer Royal by the King. His shadowy past had
given rise to many stories. He often featured in the
popular newspapers, which were attracted by his feats.
What was known was that he'd fought in duels, both
magical and physical, over matters of honour. His output
of poetry was small, but highly praised. He was a champion
fencer and rider. His singing voice was legendary,
and he was constantly sought for roles on the stage, all of
which he declined. It was rumoured he'd fought in
foreign wars, always on the side of the insurgents, and
that he swam four miles across the Sardanis Strait to
rendezvous with one of his many lovers.

Aubrey had also heard that Dr Tremaine had once been
offered the throne of Baltravia but did not accept, much
to the disappointment of all Baltravians, saying that the
climate disagreed with him.

Clough Hall was one of the showpieces of Stonelea
School and was naturally where Dr Tremaine's address
was to be held. With a soaring fan-vaulted ceiling, arches,
pillars and stained-glass windows, it was undeniably
impressive. Its great failing was that its acoustics were
dreadful.

In his early days at the school, Aubrey had sat on the
hard wooden seats and struggled to hear headmasters and
other speakers. For anyone beyond the first row of seats,
speakers' voices became woolly, muffled and – further
back – lost in muddy echoes.

One of Aubrey's current duties was to adjust the
recently installed equipment that was meant to solve this
problem. The headmaster had chosen an expensive,
newly developed magical amplification system instead
of non-magical mechanical devices, as a sign of Stonelea's
being at the forefront of all things. Aubrey approved of
this, but when the system proved to be temperamental, he
was given the task of the necessary periodic adjustment.

Aubrey thought the theory of the system was good.
Using spells that applied a reciprocal function of the Law
of Attenuation, the company manufactured a number of
brass horns that were magically linked. One horn was to
be positioned on the lectern to capture the speaker's
voice, the other horns were to be arranged around the
hall and the speaker's voice would emerge clear and
undistorted, to be heard by those assembled.

But applying the Law of Attenuation was notoriously
fiddly, and inverting it made things even more of a headache.
The positioning of the outlet horns was important,
and they tended to lose their connection with the
capture horn with changes in temperature, fluctuations
in light, numbers of people present, or even phases of the
moon. Aubrey was given a manual with a range of maintenance
spells and his role was to attend to the system and
make sure all was well. Some of the spell elements used
derivations of the Inorian language and Aubrey enjoyed
the challenge.

He'd been doubly careful before the Sorcerer Royal's
lecture. It wouldn't do to have the foremost magician in
the land let down by magical apparatus.

Aubrey sat with George and the rest of the sixth form
at the rear of the Assembly Hall. He could see the brass
horns, situated on brackets high on the walls. Of course,
the privilege of the sixth form in their last year at the
school – to sit at the back of the hall and doze through
the unintelligible announcements – had been ruined by
the installation of the system. Aubrey had been offered
bribes to make the horns fall out of synchronisation but,
despite the temptation, he'd refused.

Dr Tremaine stood at the lectern. He was a large man,
with a build more like that of a wrestler than an
academic. He wore his wavy hair to his shoulders, and
parted in the middle. His eyes were very, very dark
and Aubrey thought he looked liked a gypsy; he was
sure Tremaine would have ladies swooning whenever
he appeared. He wore a long frock coat and he carried a
cane with a large baroque pearl as a knob, though Aubrey
could see no reason for it, since Dr Tremaine didn't
appear to limp at all.

The lecture, which Dr Tremaine gave without using
notes, was about his life in magic. Throughout, he used
his deep, musical voice to charm the assembly and he
paced across the stage with the energy of a tiger. He used
anecdotes which were humorous and thrilling and he
emphasised the challenge of dedicating oneself to the
world of magic.

Aubrey was struck by how Dr Tremaine ended his
lecture. He stood, hands grasping the sides of the lectern,
leaning slightly forward, sweeping his dark gaze across
the boys, teeth bared in a fierce grin. 'We are standing
on the brink of a great age,' he said after a long pause.
'Nations are striving against nations to redefine our
globe. Our understanding of the fundamental nature of
magic is being torn down and built up again. Science
and technology are changing the way we live our lives.
In front of me I see young men, lucky young men. You
are embarking on a voyage that will take you into times
that our grandparents could not imagine. Young as you
are, you will see more of it than I, and I envy you for it.'
He bowed. 'Thank you for your attention.'

L
UNCHEON WAS NOT IN THE DINING HALL WITH THE REST
of the school. For special meals, the school opened the
old Refectory.

The stone walls of the Refectory had small windows,
high up, which meant that artificial light had to be used even
in the middle of the day. Proudly, the headmaster showed
Dr Tremaine the magical lighting orbs that floated over the
long table. 'More than three hundred years,' the headmaster
said from his position at the head of the table, 'those orbs
have been shedding light uninterrupted.'

'Remarkable,' Dr Tremaine announced after gazing
around the chamber. He was seated in a high-backed
chair at the headmaster's right, and had propped his pearl-headed
cane by his side. Aubrey was on the headmaster's
left, directly opposite Dr Tremaine, with George next to
him. George sat glumly, running a thumbnail over the
tablecloth.

A dozen boys from the sixth form had been invited to
the dinner. Most were from the Advanced Magic class,
with a few others – like George – for variety. Aubrey's
prime position was thanks to his excellence in magical
studies.

As the meal went on, the headmaster became increasingly
nervous, watching Dr Tremaine dispatch vast
amounts of the school's best wine. As far as Aubrey could
judge, the Sorcerer Royal was not affected at all, apart
from the gleam in his dark eyes becoming brighter.

Dr Tremaine dominated conversation around him,
telling story after story. But Aubrey noticed how he
made sure to include everyone at the table, calling for
responses and opinions from those at the far end of the
table as well as nearby, pointing at boys with his cane and
refusing to allow them to sit unengaged in the middle of
the animated discussion he was conducting. He even
managed to engage George by accurately guessing that
George would rather be elsewhere and admitting that he
enjoyed the outdoors more than being cloistered on such
a fine day.

After a particularly fine steamed pudding and custard,
Dr Tremaine pushed his plate aside, put an elbow onto
the table and dropped his chin into his hand. Hair fell
over one eye as he jabbed at Aubrey with his cane.
'Fitzwilliam, you're Sir Darius's son, aren't you? And don't
sigh or roll your eyes.'

'Yes, sir.'

'I thought so. Tell me, Fitzwilliam, you're in sixth form,
finishing up here at Stonelea, fine school as it is.' He
grinned at the headmaster, who smiled back awkwardly,
then he turned his intensity back to Aubrey. 'What's next?
What are you planning for your life? I'm interested.'

Aubrey folded his napkin and smoothed it in front of
him. 'Army and university. I'm not sure in what order.'

Dr Tremaine pursed his lips. 'And then?'

Aubrey wondered at his interest. Dr Tremaine had
questioned others at the table about their plans, but there
was something insistent about this attention. 'I'm not
sure,' he said, and he spread his hands. 'Travel? Stay in the
army? More study? I've plenty of time to decide.'

Aubrey wasn't sure why he didn't reveal his true ambitions.
He'd been impressed by Dr Tremaine. His immense
energy, his spirit, and his profound knowledge of things
magical set him apart from most of those who chose
magic as their life. While most magicians were retiring,
studious types, Mordecai Tremaine swaggered through
the world of magic as if it he was a pirate captain on the
deck of his prized flagship.