Enchanter (Book 7) (77 page)

But that wasn’t what Genthil was referring to.  “One of the issues facing the Conclave is to establish regulation for the creation and sale of such enchantments.  There have been some . . . ethical abuses that need to be contended with.”

I stopped.  “Such as?”

“There are some magi who are creating artifacts of dubious purpose.  Spells to open locks, warwands that can be used by non-magi, enchantments designed to sway the opinions or consent of lovers or business associates . . . there is an underground market for such ill-intentioned goods.  And there are magi who are not opposed to fulfilling it.”

“That gets us into some tricky territory,” I pointed out.  “I agree, we need to consider more stringent regulation.  But I also feel that some of those enchantments have legitimate purposes.”

“I concur,” VVV nodded.  “A warwand in the hand of a warmage is one thing; in the hand of a jealous husband, it becomes an untraceable tool of revenge and murder.  We must proceed carefully, but we are one scandal away from having the Royal Court demand us take action.”

“We’ll have to discuss it in conclave,” I sighed.  “I’ll want to poll the membership to see their opinions.”

“As some of the membership are the ones profiting on the sales, that will prove an interesting discussion.  In fact, the Baron of Greenflower has proposed, in his office as head of the scholarly order, that a body be set up to hear cases regarding such abuses on a case-by-case basis.  He proposes employing a lawbrother as a consultant to establish and maintain procedure, but that a rotating body of magi, three from each order, be seated to sit in judgment in such cases.  Their verdict would be advanced to the executive office with recommendations for action.”

“That’s bloody brilliant,” I admitted, as we returned to my quarters.  “That would certainly reduce the political stress, as well as give us a mechanism to deal with such things internally, without the King getting involved.  Who came up with this?  The Magelord of—oh.”

“Baron Dunselen,” Genthil agreed, sympathetically.  “He has used his office liberally to advance policy proposals and procedural changes that have, frankly, been as irritating as they are inspired.  We have seventy-four policy issues to address, amongst the various orders.  Of those, more than forty were issued by Dunselen.”

I sighed.  “He was an excellent Ducal Court Mage for years,” I admitted.  “He’s known for his administrative acumen.  And he did arrange a most productive seminar on enchantment on his order’s behalf.  While I mistrust his motives, his talent for such things can’t be denied.”

“I do hope you’ll maintain that opinion after contending with some of these proposals,” he said, smiling grimly.

There were a lot of interesting discussions over the next few days, and as reluctant as I was to admit that Dunselen’s proposals had merit, as irritating as they were they each addressed a specific weakness in the administration of the orders that, once brought to my attention, I had to agree needed to be managed. 

Previous proposals and initiatives, such as the establishment of Spellwardens, had developed issues because of a lack of guidance.  Disputes over jurisdiction or degree had risen.  It took days of discussion and compromise before we reached a conclusion, but often it was Dunselen’s proposals that made the most sense and were the easiest to enact without undue cost or stress on the Order.

Things moved along more quickly as some of my better people started drifting in for the Conclave.  Once Terleman, Forandal, and Curmor arrived, they were able to help me cut through the tangle.  And once Pentandra arrived with the Alshari contingent – including Astyral, Azar, Bendonal, Carmella and a dozen other Alshari warmagi – I felt like reinforcements had arrived.

It helped that they came in together like a parade.  Pentandra’s magnificent coach was led by Azar and Bendonal on beautiful chargers, and followed by a procession of the other magi all bearing blue balderics with the antlers-and-anchor of Alshar.  The arrived at dusk, and so cast magelights to hover over their procession as they made their way through the crowded streets of Castabriel.  That attracted a lot of attention, particularly from the clergy whose evening services were disrupted by the spectacle.

“That was impressive,” I remarked to Pentandra, after the contingent dismounted in front of the Order.  I was surprised how quickly liveried grooms came out and led the horses to the stable; a dedicated footman assisted Pentandra from her coach.  “I’m surprised you didn’t arrange for a fanfare at your arrival.”

“Please, Minalan! I’m an old married lady now.  Such conceits are for young girls who need the attention.”  She nonetheless looked flattered.  “It was honestly more about national pride than personal vanity,” she confided.  “Anguin wanted us to make an impressive entrance to send the message to Castal that Ashar is alive and well.”

“Half-alive and coughing up blood, but I see his point,” I agreed.  “You seem to have brought an awful lot of warmagi south.”

“The frontiers are quiet,” she confided, as I led her inside.  “Anguin’s brought four important local barons under his sway and started re-organizing the nobility over what’s left of what he controls.  Vorone is relatively peaceful and enjoying some prosperity.  He’s gotten one of the iron mines open again.  We didn’t even need to borrow to make payroll this month.  By next conclave he should actually have a real statelet to run.”

We took that evening to enjoy the slate of receptions for the various orders, catching up on news and new areas of inquiry.  In general it was a highly productive session in which a lot of useful work got done.  It was also fairly relaxing, without worrying about Dunselen or Isily popping out from behind a tapestry. The Royal Family had all vacated the city for the summer, and the skeleton court that remained to handle day-to-day business was interested in our decadent parties but not in our policies.

But I discovered a cure for the over-arching presence of the Celestial Mother in my brain: bureaucracy and committee meetings. After four days of them, I could barely feel the distant shadow of her on my mind.

I kept quiet about her installation into the Snowflake at the conclave.  The very existence of the artefact was a closely-held secret, after Isily’s infiltration, and the details of the working would have interested only a handful of enchanters, most of whom were already in Sevendor.  Instead I demonstrated to each group of wizards the amazing advancements refinements the concillibule at Sevendor had made over the winter.  Some of the easier enchantments, like the agricultural and construction wands we’d created, I offered to teach anyone who wished to come to Sevendor and spend a few weeks learning.  Others would require more study and preparation . . . but the invitation was the same. 

In addition to the meetings and discussion there were plenty of fetes, parties, and receptions.  The rising class of graduating magi from the academies had a function I could not miss, as did the new class of journeymen who had gotten their papers.  I did make five new High Magi, one in each order, and delegated the task of acclimatizing them to their new stones . . . but that still demanded a reception. 

I had innumerable meetings with people from outside of the Order who had waited weeks or even months for the opportunity to speak to me.  I spent a day just dealing with them.  And there was another party after that – Order of the Secret Tower, I think.  They all ran together after a while.

Then came the night of my big speech, the penultimate day of the official activities.  It was a pretty standard speech, and I of course emphasized the role of enchantment in the future of our profession, but there was nothing particularly groundbreaking in it. 

When I got off the podium to polite applause, however, Pentandra was waiting for me.  She didn’t bother to whisper – she used mind-to-mind communication to relay the news.

Word just came from Alshar, she reported.  Apparently someone has taken notice of our agenda.  A few hours ago several large bands of gurvani, some as large as a thousand, emerged from the Penumbra and are raiding the vales of Alshar at this very moment.

Ishi’s – damn.  How is Anguin contending with it?

Well,
she admitted.
He had the garrison put on alert and deployed about a third of the 3
rd
Commando to screen the town as cavalry.  My apprentice is overseeing the situation from Vorone and reporting.

That’s great.  When will – wait, your apprentice?  When did you gain an apprentice?

Perhaps you should have kept in closer touch.  You picked up one of your own, and didn’t tell me.  But we can argue about that later.  She tells me that there are at least five to eight separate columns leaving the Penumbra.  Right now, I need a way to get all these warmagi back out into the field quickly, and I don’t see any Alka Alon songmasters around.  Where the hell are they?

They’re still dealing with their own issues.  We’re on our own.  The good news is that I can take one and maybe two people back to Vorone, at a time.  The even better news is that I recently discovered that any of the Alkan Seven stones have the proper song in them to activate the Waypoints . . . I just haven’t had time to teach anyone else.

I’ll start picking out who needs to go first.  You start working on a good headache compound.  It’s going to be a busy night.

Word of the sudden attack spread quickly – it’s hard to keep anything quiet at the Conclave.  Azar and Bendonal wanted to leave at once.  I gave them fifteen minutes to prepare, and then explained the situation to Gareth and Dara.  That’s when I got a bit of a shock.

Master Minalan I figured out how to use the Ways a couple of weeks ago,
Gareth confessed. 
I was working on something, and left some scrolls back at the tower, and I got to thinking about how the Ways would have to work, thaumaturgically, and then I started wondering if . . . well, I ended up figuring out how to do it, once I found the songspell in my stone.  If you can show me which Waypoint we’re going to, I can help.  I’ve never taken another person before, but . . .

Do you think you could show Tyndal and Rondal how to do it?
  I asked.  I had Lady Varen teach me, and she included a lot of unnecessary but fascinating minutia that didn’t actually help me learn the process.

It’s actually pretty easy, once you figure it out,
he decided. 
I can teach a couple of sword-monkeys like them, if they pay attention. 

How fast?  Tonight?  And what about the other holders of Seven Stones?  Azar, Carmella, Astyral . . .

He considered. 
Give me an hour, I can get them to do it.

That was great news.  Genthil was announcing the attack to the crowd, while I broke contact with Gareth and sought out Pentandra again.  I sketched out my idea, and she agreed it could work . . . but stressed the need for timely action.  Apparently the gurvani were making their way towards the remaining townlands and smaller keeps in the region, avoiding Tudry or Megelin. 

We worked for hours.  I went by Waypoint to Rolone to collect Tyndal and Rondal, explaining the situation to Lorcus at Rolone Castle before taking them back to Castabriel.  They were excited about going back into the field, especially back to Alshar against goblins.  They were less excited to learn the ungainly thaumaturge was going to teach them how to use the Waypoints. 

For his part, Gareth was intently lecturing men and women twice his age and nearly twice his size . . . and doing it without being intimidated.  I listened in as he sketched out the methodology for the spell, and then took several of them in turn to Vorone. 

Three transits, and I was already exhausted.  The spell was harder without the vast energy of the Witchsphere.  Taking two people had been a strain, and taking three had nearly addled me with pain.  So soon after the Snowflake working, I was still weaker than I looked.

Once I saw Carmella depart with Gareth, and the lad return a moment later and give me a nod, I felt better.  Others could handle the battle.  If they needed me, they would wake me. Dara escorted me up to my apartments and summoned an attendant to help me prepare for bed.  I fell asleep almost instantly, my dreams resurgent with phantoms from the ancient undersea world of the Celestial Mother.

At one point I recall Pentandra checking on me, and assuring me that most of the Alshari warmagi had deployed back to the field, along with several volunteers.  It was well in hand, she told me, and I could rest, now.  I plunged back into the ocean of slumber, grateful I had competent people.

I don’t know what ancient force regarded me in my dreamscape that night – my recollections are spotty, and without context for what I was seeing it was largely a mystery anyway.  But there were parts of what I witnessed or experienced under the Celestial Mother’s influence that caused me profound emotion during my sleep.  I awoke weeping at least once, overcome with a sense of sadness and joy that my mind could not rectify. 

Later I awoke again, but with a different emotion: alarm.  I didn’t know why, but I had a strong compulsion to rise and prepare for battle, as if I was under attack.  I consulted with the attendant and the guard outside my door, and there was no danger at the tower that they were aware of.  Indeed, all was peaceful.

But I didn’t care.  I checked with Pentandra, who was still overseeing the operations in Alshar mind-to-mind, coordinating the defenses of the duchy and ensuring that the defenders knew where to go.  Several keeps, including Carmella’s pele tower, were under attack, but Anguin had prepared a counterattack with warmagi and the 3
rd
Commando at dawn, now would I please shut up and leave her alone so she could save the duchy?