Reign of Madness (Revised Edition) (36 page)

Rezkin furrowed his brow and said, “But, Wesson, I am a
shepherd
.”

“I know, Rezkin. I cannot fathom how a shepherd could have
gathered such influence with the nobles, but I applaud your accomplishment.
What I need for you to do now is tell me that you are something you are
not
.”

The warrior cocked his head curiously and selected another
identity from his repertoire. “I am the Sandean ambassador en route to witness
the King’s tournament.” This he said in Ashaiian with a perfect Sandean accent.

Wesson’s eyes widened, and he said excitedly, “Yes, your
honor, it will surely be a splendid showing.” The journeyman shifted
uncomfortably and said, “Are you certain you would not prefer more appropriate
quarters? This seems a bit…unimpressive…for a man of such esteem.” As he
glanced around the room and took in Rezkin’s appearance, the mage’s confidence
in his surroundings began to wane. His brow furrowed, and he took in Rezkin’s
appearance once more with concern, “You said you are the Sandean ambassador,
correct?”

Setting in his mind an understanding of himself, Rezkin
stated, “I am Rezkin.”

Wesson’s stiff shoulders relaxed as he sat back against the
wall. He looked up at Rezkin and said, “I am confused. Just a moment ago, I was
absolutely certain you were the Sandean ambassador and before that I
knew
you were a shepherd.”

Rezkin eyed the mage warily and replied, “You said you had
figured out the spell that was placed on me.”

The mage’s eyes lost focus as he concentrated on his
thoughts and then he nodded slowly, “Yes…yes, that would explain it.” With a
broad smile and more confidence, he looked at Rezkin and said, “That was what I
figured out! It is so subtle. It has to be one of the most intricate spells I
have ever heard of. I cannot even see or
feel
it, for that matter. I
would not have noticed at all except that I have been observing you so
closely.”

“What
is
it, Journeyman?” Rezkin prodded. He wanted
the mage to get it out before he forgot what he was saying again.

“It is as I said before. You are hiding in plain sight. It
is a sort of mental compulsion or misdirection.” He shook his head and said,
“No, it is more than that. When you form your
will
into convincing
someone that you really are who you want them to believe you are, the spell
pushes that person’s mind into believing it is so. In a way, it is like the
enchantment on a seal. The enchantment compels a person to simply
know
the seal is valid. When you told me you were a shepherd, I just
knew
it
was so. I did not question it. But, the spell cannot turn a shepherd into a
king. In other words, the role has to be convincing.

Wesson waved his hands excitedly as he said, “You are
dressed in a plain shirt and pants while staying in a relatively barren room of
an average inn. My mind could believe you are a shepherd, despite the high
quality of your garb. When you said you were the ambassador, my mind believed
you at first; but your surroundings, clothing, and behavior were not
convincing. My mind began to rebel against what it thought it knew.”

“So, you are saying that if I dress and act the part, I can
convince someone that I am anything I wish?” Rezkin asked astounded.

“Yes, but there are limitations,” Wesson warned. “The spell
seems to have only a certain area of influence, although I cannot say how large
of an area. Also, you cannot convince someone that you are a
specific
person, particularly if that person is known. For example, you cannot convince
Lord Tieran that you are Lord Malcius. Also, some people will be less
susceptible than others, particularly those who are attuned to a certain
position or are experts in a field. If your behavior and appearance deviate
perceptibly from the character you are portraying, the person will not be
convinced. He or she will become suspicious or instinctually feel you are a threat,
some kind of predator preying on a weak mind. For example, you will not be able
to convince a Master Healer that you are also a healer if you have no knowledge
of healing. In addition, it may be less convincing for certain types of mages.
”

“Which is why you were able to detect it,” Rezkin observed.

Wesson nodded, “Yes, but it still took several days of being
in your presence constantly. During that time, you have shifted your behavior
numerous times, depending on who is in your presence. You have been playing
multiple parts, even though the differences are increasingly blurred. The
people around you are privy to varying levels of your secrets, so you are
essentially playing a different character for each. I have been present for
many of these different characters, so the changes are more apparent.

“My mind and power have a natural tendency to break down
spells, as well. Still, if you had maintained only one persona at all times, I
may not have been able to pick up on it for a very long time, if at all.” The
mage rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, “Even now, I cannot determine if
you
are
who I think you are. I do not know if I am being influenced by
the spell at this time.”

“You are certain this is a spell that was placed on me? How
can you be sure if you cannot see it?” Rezkin asked.

“The only other possibility is that
you
are casting
the spell, but since you are not a mage, we can rule that out,” Wesson stated.
Another thought popped into the mage’s mind. “I do not think you could convince
a mage that you are also a mage. Since the mage would not be able to detect any
talent
in you, he would not be convinced. I am not certain, though. We
could test the hypothesis.”

Rezkin looked at the mage and willed him to believe as he
said, “I am a mage.”

Wesson’s eyes widened and said, “You
are
a mage! How
could I not see this before? It is not possible for you to have hidden your
powers for so long!”

The warrior shook his head and said, “I am not a mage,
Journeyman.”

The mage’s face fell, and his brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

Rezkin focused his
will
and said firmly, “I am not a
mage.”

“No, I suppose you are not,” Wesson agreed. He paused when
he saw Rezkin’s pointed stare. “Oh, I guess I was wrong.” His brow furrowed as
he said, “I cannot see how that works. It should not be possible for the spell
to mimic the sense of talent in another person.”

“If all of this is true, then what has it to do with making
you forget your concerns?” the warrior inquired.

“You
willed
it to be so,” Wesson explained. “You may
not even realize you are doing it, but you are probably
willing
people
to see you as
normal
. When I brought up my suspicions, your unconscious
mind probably wanted me to forget that I noticed a problem. You
willed
me to think I was mistaken, but the more I noticed the oddities, the less
effective the spell. That is compounded with the fact that you have a strong
desire to know the truth, so I have been able to maintain the line of thought.”

“Then, I am controlling people’s minds?” Rezkin asked with
abhorrence. To think that anyone would be capable of such a thing made his
muscles tense.

Wesson pursed his lips and shook his head slightly. “More
like influencing their perception. It is like donning a well-made disguise or
acting a role very convincingly. You are only convincing people to accept what
they see and hear as truth. You cannot convince me that your hair is blonde,
because I can see that it is not. Likewise, I would not believe that you are a
woman or a black-skinned Pruari or some other ridiculous notion.”

The warrior considered how this new revelation fit in with
the rest of his training. In truth, it changed little. Unbeknownst to him, his
masters had prepared him to use the spell just as they had trained him to use
his
Skills
. He would still be required to don his disguises and act the
part, but he now understood that if he did those things well, he was more
likely to convince others he was genuine. It could also explain the initial
hostility of both the general and Tieran. Rezkin had not been attempting to
play any role when he met either of them for the first time, but he may have
unconsciously been exerting his unfocused
will
. The general and the
young high lord would not know of what exactly they were being convinced, but
they would sense that something was wrong with him.

General Marcum, as General of the Army, was attuned to
recognize an experienced warrior – a killer. Rezkin had not even
attempted to convince the general that he was either commoner
or
noble,
but the general knew he was a threat from the start. Tieran found it
particularly difficult to accept Rezkin’s role as an influential lord because
he had already met Rezkin on a previous occasion when he had not been playing
the role. The other young lords, however, saw him as an important noble from
the start. In addition, although inexperienced and largely untrained, Tieran
was a life mage, which could have prevented the spell from being completely
effective. The young warrior pondered these revelations that night as he
drifted to sleep.

The next day, Rezkin made the excuse of exercising Pride so
he could get away from his companions. With more and more people surrounding
him at all times, it was increasingly difficult to find time alone to take care
of his
other
business. He packed his saddlebags with a change of clothes
that included his black hood and rode away from the city. After exercising the
restless stallion, he left the horse to graze in a grassy area near an
abandoned garden. The area was secluded and happened to be near the Port Manai
branch of the Razor Edge thieves’ guild. The Razor Edges were the only major
guild operating in the city; but
ink
dealers abounded, and because it
was a major port city, the black market was extensive.

When Rezkin found the guildhall, he was surprised to find
the blackened symbol of a raven burnt into the wood above the door. It was not
even midday, yet, a time when business was slow for thieves and most of them
were abed. No one was manning the door, so Rezkin let himself in and stood
examining the facility for several moments before someone finally noticed his
presence.

“Hey! Who are you? Who let ya in?” a wiry middle-aged man
asked as he strode into the room wiping his hands on a rag. By the look of him
and the smell that followed, the man must have been preparing the midday meal.

Rezkin cocked his head curiously, and, with a focus of
will
,
replied, “I am The Raven, and I need no invite to enter
my
House.”

The man’s eyes bulged out of his head, and he dropped the
rag. Once he regained his senses, he sputtered, “Oh, yes, Master. We’re pleased
to have ya. Please don’t take no offense. I didn’t realize who ya were. Ah…I’ll
let Vrey know yer here.”

Vrey turned out to be the newest guildmaster, having just
gained his position a few days prior. It seemed word of The Raven’s exploits
reached the city quickly. The old guildmaster denounced The Raven, claiming the
guild would never serve the insidious overlord. The guildmembers, having
already heard the stories of what happened to people who rejected The Raven, rebelled
against the old guildmaster on The Raven’s behalf. Rezkin had not had to do a
single thing to claim this guild, and already they were at his call.

After issuing his orders, the young warrior had nothing more
to do, so Rezkin decided it was time to learn more about this mysterious Shadow
Knight. When Rezkin returned to the inn, it was nearing midday meal. Tam gladly
handed over his copy of
Tales of the Shadow Knight
for Rezkin’s perusal.
The young man was actually quite excited to share the subject of his childhood
fantasies. Having no desire to remain indoors, the young warrior proposed a
picnic to a reportedly beautiful and peaceful cove to the west of the city. The
popular tourist spot just happened to be only a short distance beyond the new
fort that Rezkin had yet to investigate, although he had sent Kai to inspect
the place. Malcius and Tieran had just readied themselves for the day and
somehow managed to drag Shiela from the inn.

Port Manai was on the larger side for a town, or perhaps it
was a small city. The group was able to rent a couple of open top carriages and
a number of horses for the large party to travel to the cove. Baron Fendendril
chose to stay behind at the inn, but Waylen joined the group, as well as the
Jebais, Tieran, Reaylin, Wesson, Tam and Frisha. Two of the Jebai House Guards,
one of the baron’s guards, and Lieutenant Drascon and Captain Jimson provided
escort.

The cove was small and quiet except for the subdued lap of
calm water against the pebbly beach. The land wrapped around in modest cliffs,
blocking out most of the noise and wind of the sea, and only a soft breeze blew
across their heated faces. Although smooth and inviting in the heat, the salty
water was dark and murky. The locals claimed this was due to the large amount of
sediment and debris that washed out of the Tremadel and was carried along the
shore by the currents. As the visitors gazed over the liquid expanse, small
fish visited the surface, sometimes even leaping clear of the water. Each young
man boasted that had he a fishing pole, he would certainly catch the largest
fish.

“I do not know why you people insist on being out in this
heat under the blazing sun,” Shiela complained from beneath a frilly parasol.

“It was not any better in the inn. At least out here we have
a fresh breeze. Besides, it is cooler by the shore,” Malcius remarked.

“And we can go swimming!” Palis interjected. “We have never
been swimming in the ocean.”

“
You
can go swimming. Just what am I supposed to do?”
Shiela asked.