Authors: David D. Friedman
Ellen glanced around the familiar room, shelves over Coelus’ desk now empty of their usual piles of paper. The reality of Ellen’s parentage was just sinking in to Coelus.
“He has to be well over a hundred. He must have been in his eighties when you were conceived.”
“Past ninety, actually. But he’s a mage. And with enough power …”
“He can be any age he wants to be. I finally worked that out, when I saw him doing it. As Master Dur he was in his seventies, as your father he was forty or so, and as himself … .”
“A hundred and twelve. And long dead if not for what he found.”
“I should have guessed—Master Dur. Then again, Durilil is a common enough name. Because of that silly superstition.”
Ellen smiled. “Remember what you told us in your first lecture, that a mage’s skill can be judged by how little magic it takes him to achieve his aims. Father made himself invisible with no magic at all. A mage can’t afford to change his name. If you want to hide a tree, you plant a forest and wait. Father started the rumor about naming children after mages the year after he found the Salamander.”
“Why, after he found the Salamander, did he disappear? If he had come back he would have been the most famous mage in history.”
“If you had kept on with the Cascade and done what Maridon wanted to do, used it to seize power, you would have been the most famous mage in history. Why didn’t you?”
“I told you, a long time ago.”
“You told me two reasons. There’s one more you didn’t think of.
“Suppose you developed the Cascade, and you used it to try to do good, and only you could do it, as only Father can do—what he does. And suppose His Majesty, or the next king—perhaps Lord Iolen, if the Prince happens to die before the King does—decided that we should end the Forsting wars once and for all by killing everyone in Forstmark. I expect you could do it.”
It took him a moment before he could answer calmly.
“I expect I could. But I wouldn’t; you know I wouldn’t.”
“Yes. And then the King appeals to your loyalty, or threatens the people you love—you might have a wife and children by then. Or tells you the Forstings have a magical weapon of their own and if you don’t use the Cascade, they will conquer and kill us. At some point you either do what he asks—and I don’t think you could, not really—or you use the Cascade against him. And then you are Maridon. I don’t think you want to be Maridon.”
It was a long minute, his eyes seeing nothing in the room, before he answered.
“No.”
“Neither does Father. What he has doesn’t drain other people’s magic the way the Cascade does. But it’s not as useful either. You can’t cure a plague with fire, or turn a flood. But it’s very good for killing people. That’s why he decided, after he had found what he was looking for and made his terms with it, that he should just let everyone think the same thing had happened to him that had happened to his friend Feremund.”
The two were quiet for some time, both thinking. Coelus was the first to speak. “So he has unlimited power, but he can’t use it.”
“He uses it to keep from getting old. And he can use it, if he’s very careful, in other ways that aren’t obvious. He used it to destroy Iolen’s notes on the Cascade and set fire to your papers, so that they thought it was a spell you put on them, and the damage to theirs just an accident. But he can’t do that sort of thing very often, or someone might figure it out. And even though he has an unlimited pool to draw on, there is still a limit to how much fire he can channel.”
There was a knock on the door. A porter handed a message to the Magister and politely withdrew. Coelus read it. “His Highness is back. He wants to see me. Do you want to …”
Ellen shook her head. “I’m a link to Father; the less he sees and thinks of me the better. I’ll wait in your lab.”
It took only a few minutes for the Prince to arrive; Coelus offered him a chair, sat down himself. “What can I do for your Highness?”
“Tell me what you know of Lord Iolen’s doings, and what progress you have made on the project you were engaged in when last we spoke.”
Coelus thought a moment before replying. “The second question first; it is easier to answer. We have a schema we believe will protect a building large enough to contain His Majesty and many mages, possibly large enough to cover the dimensions of the palace. If we are correct, the protective sphere could be maintained by the efforts of a single mage drawing on a fire sufficiently fueled. It would not block all magic, or prevent people from coming in and out, unlike the protection around the College, but it would prevent any mage deploying the Cascade from spreading it into the sphere. I have written out a detailed account of that schema for you.”
Coelus opened a drawer in his desk, drew out the papers, and handed them to the Prince, who looked through them briefly before putting them into the wallet at his side. “If someone in the kingdom duplicates your work, this will be of some use, but only some. A mage controlling the Cascade might not be able to defeat the mages who protect his Majesty, but he would be at an enormous advantage in any other conflict. I am grateful for this, but I must still require you to do all you can to keep the secret of the Cascade. And if someone else does duplicate it, I may have to ask more of you again.”
“Your Highness may always ask. I do not promise what my answer will be.”
The two men observed each other in silence. Finally the Prince spoke. “I had a second question.”
“Iolen. He came here claiming to be acting on your behalf and asked me to tell him how to do the Cascade. He knew you had been here before him but did not seem to know that I had refused you. When I refused to do what he wanted, his people gagged me to keep me from speaking spells, bound me, and demanded I write out instructions for the Cascade. I think he tried to implement the Cascade and use it to put a loyalty spell on me, but if so something went wrong. While he was trying to make the Cascade work I was able to write out my own spell to counter the guards. I escaped to the village and have evaded them since.”
“And your lady? Did Iolen go after her too?”
“Ellen? He tried, but with no better luck than your mage had.
Does Your Highness know what Iolen was doing and what has become of him?”
“I believe he was trying to obtain the Cascade and use it to murder His Majesty, myself and my son, and claim the throne for himself. When he failed, he claimed to have been acting against a treasonous plot by me to command the Cascade. He intends to bring this claim to Court.”
“Will His Majesty believe him?”
Prince Kieron shook his head. “No. The use of truthtellers will prove that he tried to implement the Cascade and I did not. His Majesty will be reluctant to use them on us, but if need be I will give consent. My brother trusts me and does not trust our nephew, both with good reason. Iolen might hope enough people would believe him to force His Majesty to accept a compromise, to leave Iolen unpunished. If that is his plan I do not think it will succeed.”
“Could he be planning to threaten to make public what he knows about the Cascade if charges are pressed?”
“That would be to openly proclaim himself our enemy. I do not think he could make such a threat and live, despite His Majesty’s reluctance to spill the blood of our kin. I may be mistaken, but I believe Iolen’s threat is done, and Iolen with it. But I may need to call you to Court to testify to what you saw; remain here until I send word.”
Almost as soon as the Prince had left Coelus’ office, Ellen came back in from the workroom. “I heard what he said. If he is right …”
“If he is right about Iolen, the immediate threat is over. We still need to find some better defense against the Cascade, but we may have more time to do it in. Can you stay through the summer to work on it?”
Ellen shook her head. “I have a better idea. Father was planning to go back home to Mother as soon as it was safe to leave, which I expect means tomorrow. I’m planning to go too. Why don’t you come along? You could work on the project there. The two of them know more about making barriers out of woven fire than anyone but Olver—and I know Mother would be interested in meeting you.”
Coelus looked at her, struggled not to let too much show in his face. Ellen looked back calmly. Finally he spoke.
“I would very willingly accept, but you heard the Prince. He wants me to stay until the matter with Iolen is settled. He will be displeased if he sends for me and I have disobeyed. And he is right; what I have to say in his support might settle the matter.”
“You will come once the Prince is done with you?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Then I’ll stay a few more days to help you work on the project and decide what we need to take with us. It will be easier for you to find Mother if I am with you.”
Coelus looked once more at the elegant writing on the scroll, then up at Ellen. “It’s from the Prince; he’s back.”
“And?”
“He isn’t sending me to the capital, so I suppose everything must have worked out. It’s an invitation to a dinner he’s having at the inn. I think it must be intended as a victory celebration.”
Ellen looked unconvinced. “A long way to come just to have dinner with you. He’ll try to persuade you to work on the Cascade, to have it ready just in case someone else develops it.”
“He can try. He invited you too, so you can keep tabs on me if you think I’m weakening.”
When they got to the inn, they were directed to the main dining room, converted for the evening into a private feast hall. Coelus was seated at the Prince’s right, Ellen next to him, a portly older man introduced as Wilham, one of the Prince’s mages, on her right, a dozen more men, mostly strangers, around the long table.
The Prince stood to greet the two guests. “I am happy to see that you were able to come, Magister Coelus, and to bring your very accomplished lady. Tomorrow several of my people will want to discuss the work you have been doing and their experiments with the protective schema you provided. But I thought it would be pleasant to spend this evening celebrating what has been so far accomplished.”
“Then Lord Iolen is no longer a threat?”
The Prince hesitated a moment before answering. “His Majesty is aware of Iolen’s treason and remains satisfied with my loyalty. I have explained to him what I know of your work; he has asked me to continue to concern myself with it on his behalf.”
As the Prince spoke, servants in his livery were bringing in the first course, pouring wine, serving platters—a roast, wedges of meat pie, sausages. One servant was passing behind the guests taking their cups, refilling them, replacing them. A second course was served. The Prince conversed with the guest on his left, a stranger to Ellen; she turned to speak to the mage on her right.
“Did you have a pleasant ride here from the capital?”
Wilham nodded, looked at her curiously.
“His Highness tells me you are a fire mage; is it true?”
She nodded.
“I have never encountered a woman with that talent before. I am fascinated; your existence would seem to support the Learned Olver’s views on the nature of magic.”
“You doubted them?”
The man shrugged. “I’m a practitioner, not a scholar. I’ve learned two spells created by your friend Magister Coelus, who I gather follows Olver’s approach, and they work. But most of what I do is older than that. His Highness takes Olver’s work seriously, but I would find a woman who is a fire mage more convincing than any number of arguments about basis stars and the like.”
As he spoke the servants brought in the third course and the mage returned to the serious business of eating. He was a water mage and a strong one, unveiled but, like all of the Prince’s mages, with protective spells of some sort on him. The servant pouring the wine too was a mage; she wondered if he was a specialist in potions, poisons, and similar difficulties.
Finally Wilham finished the serving of mortress on his plate, took a last sip from his goblet, reached over for one of the candlesticks on the table, pulled it closer, snuffed out the flame. He turned back to Ellen: “Show me.”
She looked at the candle; nothing happened. After a few seconds she turned back to the water mage, the puzzled expression fading from her face. “You are damping it.”
He gave no reply, turned to the Prince, who had been watching both intently. “It worked.”
Prince Kieron stood up, spoke quietly to Coelus: “The situation is not as simple as I made it sound. The two of you had best come with me.”
He led them out of the dining room. Wilham followed, still holding his wine cup. Outside the door two more mages joined them. The Prince climbed the stair, went through the middle door into the small dining room where he had spoken with Ellen a month earlier, gestured them to two of the seats around a small table. Wilham took a seat between the table and the door, still holding the cup; the other two mages remained near the door, standing. The Prince walked once around the table speaking words too softly for the others to hear, sat down. “We are now private.”
He waited a moment; the other two said nothing.
“Iolen fooled me. He sent His Majesty a request for a hearing, knowing that I would insist on delaying it until I could learn what he had been up to here. He then instructed his servants that he was not seeing visitors. As soon as I left the capital to come here he left heading north, alone. His Majesty sent orders to Northpass Keep to stop him, but he has a two day start, a fast horse, a courier’s pass for remounts and, I expect, a fair amount of gold. Once through the pass he’s on Forsting soil, with a considerable army between him and us. If he wants he can even pick up his wife and son on the way; they're with Earl Eirick, her father, a day's travel west of the pass.