Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (22 page)

As the other man reacted with a moment of shock, Hemlock threw herself along the floor and sliced the man’s
thigh,
sending him heavily to the floor where she dispatched him without hesitation.

Graybreech seemed to be tiring as Hemlock saw him take stock of the situation.

"
Seems like your whelp has be
sted my men and now I am bested,"
Graybreech stated while pressing his attack with
a wild vigor
.

"Aye,"
r
esponded Safreon as he leapt a low thrust by Graybreech and delivered a heavy blow directly to the Thief’s face.

Graybreech
crumpled to the floor and
was
motionless
.
  He appeared to still live, however.

"
What should we do with him?
"
asked Hemlock as she looked around the room for signs of reinforcements.

"
He won’t trouble us for several hours
,"
said Safreon.
"It’s best to leave him alive.  H
e’s more sensible than most Thieves and likely better to deal with than his replacement would be
,
despite this altercation.
"

"
What of the gold?
"
Hemlock asked boldly.

"
Aye, what of the gold?
"
responded Safreon. 
"
W
e have to have money to survive–
I recognize that.  This is an opportunity to fill our coffers and we should probably take advantage.
"

They approached the chest.  Hemlock drew in a sharp breath, there had to be thousands of gold pieces in there!

"
This is more money than an Elite would have!
"
cried Hemlock.

Safreon shushed her as the
Elite
Woman who had been kidnapped began to stir and struggle against the chains.

"
Fill your purses while I tend to her
,"
Safreon instructed.

Hemlock began to greedily do just that as Safreon picked the lock on the shackles that held the Woman.  She was in shock
,
but seemed coherent enough to move to safety.

There was an attempt to open the front door of the House then, followed by cries and a pounding at the door when the lock held.

"
Quickl
y, we’ll exit the way we came," c
ried Safreon
,
guiding the Woman through the door.

Once they got inside, Safreon dragged a desk in front of the door
to the entry hall
to bar it
.
H
e motioned for Hemlock to guard the outside door
.

"
Stay here!
"
commanded Safreon and the
dazed Citizen
seemed to understand.

Hemlock and Safreon stepped out into the alley
,
tensed and expecting
an ambush.

The
entire alley was full of thieves.  Easily two score of them.

Knives and swords were drawn then
,
and the afternoon Sun caught their many reflections.  The m
enace in the air was palpable.  T
hese wretched souls, now assembled, seemed to
exist in
some union of malice and harmful intent.  They closed in on the pair slowly, with some taking to nearby rooftops, some climbing walls, some retreating to the shadows,
and
some moving forward in small, agile motions.

Hemlock retreated a step into the doorway and the aggressors seemed to become emboldened
at that movement
.  But in a flash she returned, and her purpose became clear.  She had retrieved the saber from the fallen
youth
and now held it in her right hand in addition to her own in her left. 
The
lesser among the
t
hieves snickered and jeered in response.  The greater
and wiser
took pause, but the advance continued nonetheless.

And
then the attack started,
furiously
,
like the crash of a wave
against the rocks
. 
First, many daggers were thrown.
Hemlock deflected them all with her sabers while Safreon deflected several, dodged several more
,
but
took
one dagger in his left arm.

Next came a wave of thrusting rapiers from all heights and angles.  Safreon bore this assault first, and seemed to move like a tiger from victim to victim as he parried attacks, clove limbs and still managed to grapple and t
hrow with his wounded left arm.

When Hemlock entered the fray
next,
it was like a shockwave hit the
t
hieves.  Letting her mind rest like she had in the house fight, she tore through their ranks in a perfectly orchestrated ballet of twin steel
-
wielding death. 

Her strikes were precisely timed and each motion was effortlessly predetermined.  Throats, shoulders, eye sockets, groins
–
all were
rent
in equal measure by her twin blades
,
which moved at a speed that was almost indiscernible.  Soon the cheap Thieves' saber had broken
at a point
halfway down the blade
,
but it slowed Hemlock little.  The alley soon resemble
d
some twisted and macabre fountain show as arterial wounds filled the thoroughfare with crimson sprays.

After a time, the remaining t
hieves had the good sense to run away. 
Judging from the dead, Hemlock concluded t
he
survivors w
ere reduced to one tenth
of
their original numbers.

Safreon spit
a piece of flesh
out of h
is mouth onto the sandy ground as he and
Hemlock stood
wiping the carnage of the fight
from their bodies and clothes.  Hemlock had to move carefully among the hewn limbs and pools of blood that surrounded her.

The Citizen who had been rescued emerged from the house, fresh vomit in the corners of her mouth.  The scene was
apparently
too much for her and once she cleared the alley
,
she stumbled into the crowd in shock as many around her marked her bloody footprints and pointed to the alley.

"We must be gone now
,
" Safreon
said
.

Hemlock did not answer but leapt up onto the low roof of a shed nearby.  Safreon joined her and soon they regained the rooftops and made their way away from the carnage
with
shouts and voices behind them marking the
discovery
of
the battlefield
.

They found an old barrel filled with rain water on one of the roofs and cleansed themselves. 
Sometime later,
they regained their original perch on the old Church roof.

They divided the gold and jewels
that Hemlock had been able to carry
between them.  Hemlock was giddy but she tried to contain herself for Safreon's sake. 

She
knew that she
had never been tested against that many foes.  Now she knew more about herself
,
and the revelation seemed to be that she had no equal in the Warrens except for Safreon.  In fact, some twenty had stood against her and she had bested them all with minimal e
ffort.  And now she had money:
more money than she had ever seen.

Safreon began a toneless explanation.  "This will have to hold you over for quite a while.  Our paydays do not come often.  Be judicious.  Give alms to t
he poor.  Get yourself a secluded flat.  Y
our comings and goings should be your own business and no other
’
s.  Do not indulge in finery
–
the people will not respect that.  All will know what you have done but you must never acknowledge it.  Mark these words or our association will end."

Hemlock turned to make some small merriment, but Safreon was leaving.  She watched him
move away across the adjacent roof
for a time and considered his words, but the gold in her pocket
excited
her mind with many times the force with which it weighed down her pockets.

With an air of barely contained jubilation, she descended to the m
arket to buy food for her and her sister
.  Tonight they would eat
well.
Safreon would
have to
understand that small gesture for
the sake of
her
family
.

The
four wanderers from the City soon reached the foot of the nearby hill which Safreon and Gwineval had chosen to climb.  They encountered some marshes at the base which they had to navigate amidst the din of frogs and insects.  They were bothered by small clouds of flies which sought to bite them and required regular swatting to keep at bay.

Soon they passed through the marshes, only having to enter the water outright in one spot; they waded across a deep stream which had stretched as far as they could see in either direction, discouraging any attempt to walk around it.  Safreon had carried Merit overhead while Gwineval took the opportunity to bathe in the ochre water and seemed to take pleasure and refreshment in it.

After they had traversed the marsh, they began to climb at a slight incline and they were engulfed by the forest canopy.  Makeshift paths were found among the roots of larger trees–almost serving as natural stairs in some portions of the ascent.  They periodically encountered stone outcroppings which formed natural walls that sometimes could be avoided and sometimes required climbing.

The ascent became steeper and their legs began to labor.  Hemlock offered to carry Merit for a time but Safreon and Gwineval declined her offer.  She was somewhat offended by their refusal, but decided to keep that to herself and let them deal with the burden if that was their preference.

In some places, the roots of great fallen trees had formed shadowy, cave-like openings in the earth.  These they avoided, for Hemlock mentioned that the spider creature that she had encountered had emerged from a similar opening.

Soon they reached a shallow stream, which they crossed with care because the rocky bottom was very slippery.  The trees became thicker and rocky outcroppings became more common.  They had to climb up small rock faces more frequently now and they could see a hint of a commanding view of the valley below them.  Hemlock mentioned climbing a tree to reconnoiter, but Safreon and Gwineval preferred to continue toward the top of the hill where they anticipated an uninterrupted view of the surroundings and the valley below. 

They had been climbing for roughly an hour when they emerged onto an expansive rocky summit.  They quickly noted something odd.  In the center of the summit was a large obelisk and there was a strong feeling of magical power which seemed to move through their bodies like a vibration.

"What is that?" asked Hemlock.

Safreon turned to Gwineval, whose face wore an expression of surprise, dismay and complicity at the same time.  These emotions looked a bit odd playing out over serpentine features, but they were clear nonetheless.

Gwineval looked back and forth at Hemlock and Safreon and he carefully placed Merit on the ground before responding.

"I’m not exactly sure," hissed Gwineval, "it does seem to bear the aura of Wizard Guild magic."

Their gazes were drawn back to the Obelisk.  It was an unearthly tone of black.  It had the form of a flat slab that was smooth and solid on one side with an edge that traced a graceful curve, while in contrast, the other edge was brutally jagged and was formed of unfinished stone. 

As their eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, they discerned movement in the air above the obelisk.  Small wisps of light, scarcely visible, but leaving trails of gray luminescence in their wake, were being drawn down from the air and into the stone in a great sweeping spiral.  As the wisps reached the Obelisk, the latter seemed to hum and surge with power and the wisps did not emerge.

The wanderers were all transfixed at the sight, for it was spectacular; but Hemlock felt she was witnessing something terrible.  She sensed a life-force in the wisps and she had an intuition that the magic of the Obelisk was devouring that life.  She glanced at Safreon and Gwineval; they both wore dark looks on their faces.  Hemlock guessed that they had drawn similar conclusions to hers.

Hemlock concentrated on the Obelisk, using her unique sensory abilities to gauge the magical forces in play within it.  There was a strong force of attraction and peace which emanated from the smooth side of the obelisk.  But on the jagged side there was a weaker or perhaps a hidden power.  This hidden power was one of torment, subjugation and exploitation.  The attractive force felt like Wizard Guild magic to Hemlock.  It was somehow ordered, as it manifested in all of her senses.  She sensed a vast lattice of interwoven spells, each unique to its caster, but cast according to an overarching structure.  She heard it almost like a chorus of wind chimes in near perfect harmony.  She tasted it like many complementary flavors.

What she sensed from the exploitative force was wild and unstructured.  It felt organic,.  She quickly diverted her mind from it before the sensory impact became too severe.

"It’s a cunning magical trap," Hemlock commented.

"Hemlock!" Safreon gasped, squinting his eyes and leaning his head forward, which she interpreted as a command to be silent.

"I suspected as much, Safreon.  It is clear now that she is attuned to magic.  That explains, in part, how she was able to enter the Wizard Tower," chided Gwineval.

"Hemlock, you have no subtlety it seems!" Safreon exclaimed.

"Sorry," Hemlock responded.

"What do you know of this obelisk, Gwineval?" asked Safreon angrily.

"Can we destroy it?" interjected Hemlock.

Gwineval looked distraught and shook his head negatively toward Hemlock.  Then she saw his eyes turn inward, as if he was momentarily lost in thought.

He then began to relate a tale from his past.

…

Gwineval sat in his seat in the observation balcony.  The other observing wizards near him were restless, whispering among
st
themselves.  Gwineval was intent on the proceedings below.

Below his vantage point
,
a meeting of the Wizard’s council
was
underway.  Each circle of magic had a Wizard representative seated at a large, round onyx table which shone beautifully in the
torchlight.  One seat was not
ably vacant. 
The
other
wizards
at the onyx table looked concerned.

The vacant seat was that of
Zaringer
,
leader of the council,
Wizard of the
Seventh C
ircle and representative for that circle to the council.  He was late for the proceedings, which was unusual in the extreme.

Suddenly a mist began to gather near the vacant seat, its source not apparent.  The mist moved to the seat and began to strengthen and coalesce into the vague form of a man.  Strange, inchoate sounds were heard
emanating from the mist,
and soon they began to resemble a voice, sounding very far and distant.

The wizards at the table seemed unnerved, yet despite their obvious discomfiture, they remained seated
,
watch
ing
the strange phenomenon that was
unfolding before them
.

Gwineval noted that one member of th
e council seemed oddly composed.
  Falignus, the young
, cocksure
Fourth C
ircle Wizard
,
who was a bit of a rising star in the Guild
, sat calmly and almost looked serene
.  Why should he alone seem un
fazed
by this very unusual apparition?

"
Members of the Council
,"
spoke a voice from
the
misty
figure, which now clearly was an image of
Zaringer
,
his
voice sounding like it was booming over a great distance.

"
I speak to you today so that I might make an announcement concerning the
Seventh C
ircle.  My duties have become too pressing
of late
and I no longer can attend
the
council.  I have arranged for a new Wizard to be promoted to the
Seventh C
ircle and to direct our affairs within the Guild.
"

A gasp sounded throughout the room as the
wizards
began to speculate who might be identified for this new role.

"
Do not be concerned,
"
the voice continued after a time, seeming to have some awareness of the reaction in the room
,
"
we have chosen this individual with great care and he has been trained in secret for many weeks now.  We did it in secret
,
knowing that this transition might alarm some of you
–
and we did not wish to have any debate distract us from the tra
nsition
.
"

Some
of the other Council members
w
ere starting to look angry then, and
they began to mutter forcefully amongst themselves.

The voice continued:
"
Rest assured that the
Seventh C
ircle is guiding the affairs of the Guild with great
care
and will continue to do so for eons to come.  I ask that you weigh your reactions carefully
,
for we will not tolerate any undue disorder during this transition.
"

The room fell silent at the final remark.  The threat contained in those words was
clear
.  Many
wizards
slumped back in their seats
,
and though their body language was still combative, no
further
words were spoken in dissent.

The
misty
figure looked around the hall and seemed satisfied with the reaction of the assembled
wizards
.

"
The new
Seventh C
ircle Wizard and sole authority for
Seventh Circle
dealings wi
th the council and the Guild is:
Falignus, formerly the representative of the
Fourth
C
ircle.
"

There were a few gasps of surprise at this news, but the chilling effect of the threat of
Zaringer
was still fresh in the minds of all in attendance.

Falignus,
still
looking calm and composed, rose from his seat and solemnly strode toward the apparition of
Zaringer
.

Zaringer
’s form rose up from the seat and began to fade from view.  As it did, a final remark was heard and it seemed to ring far more loudly and shrill than before.

"
Falignus’ authority
over
the
Wizard Guild
is not to be questioned.  He, alone, is our representative and his coun
se
l carries the full weight of the
Seventh C
ircle of
wizards
.
"

Falignus took the final few steps toward the now vacant
Seventh C
ircle seat and sat down in a measured and assured movement.  He paused for a few moments and then spoke to the
wizards
.

"
Fellow
wizards
, I understand that these events are a surprise to you.  The fact is that the
Seventh C
ircle is making unprecedented progress toward a new level of power for the entire Guild.  Al
l will be revealed over time. 
Several events have transpired which have required an increased focus on research in the
Seventh C
ircle.  Our uneasy alliance with the Witches continues, and our Oberon supplies grow steadily.  Yet we fear that the Witches
’
power is growing as well
,
and we must take care to complete our research
as quickly as possible.  We all understand the value in
extending our life spans so that we may develop more advanced spel
ls to combat the W
itches.
"

The room erupted in questions then, and Falignus took his staff and struck the floor forcefully, sending a loud thud through the room.  All were silent then and Falignus spoke again.

"
Remember that the representatives are the only speaking members of the council.
"

"
Why can’t we just unbind the Witch Crags from the City?
"
asked
Malvert
, the representative of the
First C
ircle
, with a gravelly voice
gained from being a scarred veteran and leader of many combat operations.

"
A reasonable
question,
" answered Falignus.  "E
ven if we could recall the ancient dweomers that bound the Witch Crags to the City, we would have to muster a great power in order to dispel them.  No doubt the Witches would not be cooperative and would attack us. 
They understand that the City is the engine that propels us through the dimensions. 
They can harvest far more souls as we travel through the multiverse than they would be able to if they were bound to a single plane.  They would not give up that advantage without strong resistance.
"