War mage crystals of mem.., p.27
War Mage (Crystals of Memory Book 4), page 27
The man was his father. In Istlan they were forced to stay apart, in more than a casual way. There in Yanse, the man ruled, however. His first words there to Anders were to call him son. In the language of the land they were in. Called out loudly, too, not spoken as a mere comment. He’d wanted those listening to know that he, Anders Brolly, was his own child. That wasn’t done as a threat, either.
After all, as the Regent, if he wished the Warbow to stand by his right hand and stay ready for battle, he could have simply ordered it done. No, his intent, clearly, had been in claiming Anders publicly, as much as he could without starting problems in Istlan. Even that was really about lines of succession, not hatred of him for being born poorly.
Hoatha, older and wiser than Anders by so much time it didn’t bear truly considering, simply nodded.
“I can see that, of course. Also, a fine choice. In that case, we can find things to occupy ourselves here, if we try. One place is very like another, after a while. You could put on some of your illusion shows? Those are impressive and would sooth some of the anger left from the war, I wager.”
That sounded almost crass, but he nodded.
“Away from here, perhaps? I’ll ask about the rest. Now... Have you, in your very long life, learned how to make running water indoors, that won’t make the air thick with steam?” It wasn’t brutally hot there, but the room did feel a bit sticky.
“You know, I have, in fact. What was done here is fine enough, for the region, but we could channel water through the walls and in pipes made inside the ground. Deep ones, since they’ll freeze in winter, in a region like this, otherwise. Then you’ll need special pieces made of metal or stone to control the flow. I can show you how it’s done?”
That wasn’t done by sketching in the dirt or even on fine paper. There was a discussion first, made of glowing images that appeared in the air itself, which, once seen, weren’t actually that hard to follow.
Anders waved at them.
“I’ll need to create some new spell components, but I can do this. Now, the special metal work?”
That, it turned out, wasn’t as simple, since the man insisted on doing it the hardest way first, which meant working in stone, with seals made of leather. In their case, a leather like substance created from course woven grass, instead of animal hide. That bit, transforming something as common as grass into a sheet of hardened, but still flexible leather, took several hours.
Then Hoatha didn’t let him merely make one of water gates, he insisted on ten of them. Each no larger than Anders’ closed fist. They were incredibly complex and even after making several, he failed on two in a row. He’d simply missed, slightly, when he was pointing at what he wanted done. By no more than a fraction of a finger span. It was enough to prevent the whole device from working, forcing him to start over again.
Then he had to create a water pump that used the pressure of flowing water to lift the fluid into the air, and make a large cistern, about seven feet high, which was needed to feed into the small house he built. He didn’t have individual spell components for the new pipe or to attach the water gates, so he had to do it the hard way.
It took until meal time, when Depak walked into the small space, holding two bowls, each heaping with roasted meat and various greens. He surveyed the work when he entered and nodded, as he handed first Hoatha, then Anders, their bowl of food.
“Ah! I’d wondered why we needed a new house here. I like the work on the faucets. Is that yours, Father?” He spoke as if he knew the real answer, which was probably apparent.
Anders was being pushed to do new things, for training purposes.
That, or to be companionable, but even if the man hadn’t been stern with him, he’d asked for a lot and instead, gently, that doing it right was always the better plan.
Hoatha nodded.
“In that I borrowed the idea from a craftsman nearly a thousand years ago, and then got Anders to do the actual work you are looking at here? Then, yes. All mine. Thank you, for the food. I was about to suggest we go and seek something out.” The man, former Sula of Barquea and King of who knew how many lands, simply settled, on to the packed stone floor of the tiny cottage.
Sitting cross legged, both he and Depak did the same. Anders was hungry, but waited for the other man to start, before eating anything himself. They used their fingers, but he tried to be careful that way and not make a mess. As he did that, Hoatha spoke.
“We were speaking, earlier, about the need to go into Dora, in the north. I was suggesting that we might not need to send in an army, since the magics sent there are gone now. They have been for long enough that they’ve likely figured that portion of things out. So, Anders decided that going back to Istlan, at least to take Princess Salina there for a time, to relax, after her efforts, might be a good plan? Then he’s going to build a palace for Duke Lister. Hence working on the plumbing system here. Salina is working on that as well, correct?”
That got a nod, from both Depak and Anders. The magician, his robes fine looking, being well embroidered and shining in a shifting color that reminded one of copper and something closer to fire, did the same.
“Indeed! She’ll enjoy a break, I think. I’ve rather been pressing her, Jeld and poor Daren for some weeks. Who are we leaving here, for the protection of the new Regent?”
That was a thing Anders hadn’t even considered.
Instead of blurting out that it needed to be a specific person, he shrugged.
“Let’s get everyone together tonight and see what the thoughts are on that? Page Walden is up to some basic magical tasks, and needs to keep up on his training, but it isn’t fair to insist he travel with us, to a land that his people had just been at war with. He’s young and should be allowed a few years to learn and train, before doing that. I don’t want him to lose his learning of Istlan, or magic, of course.”
Instead of answering, Depak simply stood, and came back, some five minutes later with the rest of the merry band. Salina saw him there, eating, and waved in his direction.
“Anders! I’d half thought you’d left me here. All alone, with only a slave master to fill my days.” She glared at Depak, so that no one could doubt who was the master there, but also fought an obvious grin, at the same time.
Jeld, almost out of character for him, nodded at the words.
“It’s true that Master Depak requires much of a student. I spend my days, being humbled on all sides, as I struggle to do the simplest of tasks.” He smiled at Daren then, as if that were a jest, between them.
Depak simply settled on the floor again, followed by the others, Salina doing it last. Not affronted by the clean ground, as much as needing to fight her skirt into place properly, first. Then the older man, bald and with a strong mustache, clapped his hands.
“We’re planning to leave for Istlan soon. If you all are finished with your tasks here, for the time being? The goal is to send Princess Salina there, to prepare herself for the raising of Duke Lister’s keep. We need to collect several others for that, as well, and make certain they’re prepared for the task. That might not... Well, we haven’t been there to ensure they practice.”
Anders was on his last bite of food, a bit of greens, which were mellow in flavor, being young as it were. When he finished it, covered with grease from the meat, he used a spell, muttered quietly, to clean his hands and sent the waste out the window, which was just an open hole in the wall, so far.
Then he spoke, forcing his voice to be light.
“That won’t be too huge an issue. Princess Lissa was with them. I’ve been contacting her once a week or so, to make certain everything is going well there. That topic has been discussed and she seems to think everyone is doing their part. Well, not all of the servants. Several of them have stopped lessons completely, even if they’ve been being paid for the effort.” That baffled him, but Daren simply took a large breath.
Then he sighed.
“It’s the old fear of magic. Even being offered an easy life and riches isn’t enough for a lot of them. Some will keep going, since a silver a day is too much for them to miss out on. A few might even do it because they can see the use and get past fear after a while. I still hesitate, occasionally, because of that.” He seemed as if he were about to be scolded for that fact.
Jeld bowed his own head, as well.
“I feel the same. I dread returning home, as well. I’ll be an outcast, won’t I? A being to be feared and warded against, instead of a fellow to work in the castle with. Do I even have a job there, after all this time? Will the King hire me again, as I am now?”
Everyone had a different reaction to those words, but Anders had actual answers, having bothered to check, even if it meant getting Master Tolan to go to Prince Robarts with the idea.
“You have work there. In fact, King Mathias has been paying you. A gold per week. You and Daren, both. As mages. Your work here is being done under his auspices, of course.” He shrugged. “I don’t have to go back to Istlan, specifically. I have to admit, I’d rather be there than here, since the Warbow isn’t actually that welcome all the time, but I can stay, to protect Prince Alpert here, if you all need to go back home.”
He was about to explain the rest, when Jeld simply shrugged.
“Daren and I could stay on here? He’s good about insisting I practice, so I won’t get lazy. Or is he needed? He’s a Prince. It would be harder, doing it myself, but...” He seemed to stiffen in his resolve then, ready to go on alone.
The new Prince simply smiled.
“I can do that? What would my duties be, do you think?”
Anders shrugged.
“Making sure that you both learn Yansian well enough to act as translators, if it’s needed. Provide magics for protection and other efforts, building, healing and even entertainments... See to Page Walden and make certain he keeps up with his daily practice of magic and in learning Istlan. Communications with Istlan, as well, as needed.” It sounded like a lot, once it was spoken out loud.
Daren bowed, while seated, which had Jeld doing that as well, if a little late and too fast to be smooth about it.
“Then, if that’s allowed, we’ll do that part? How long do you think that will last?”
It was interesting, but Hoatha answered, his face serious seeming.
“Well, you might both consider taking wives here? This has the sound of a long-term posting.”
Princess Salina winced.
“Ah... Prince Daren is to wed Princess Javina. She didn’t come halfway across the world for you to find some plowman’s daughter off in Yanse, Daren. I don’t know if anyone mentioned that to you yet. Not that you get a choice of course. I mean, she followed you to a different land, so you’re kind of obligated now, aren’t you?”
Anders, or rather Farad, felt shock at the words. The boy inside simply nodded.
“That was a bit obvious. So... Don’t marry just yet, Daren? I’ll ask about the rest, in a bit here. We seem to have a plan, but all of it might be changing, in the next few hours. I’ll contact... No. Daren, why don’t you get in touch with Master Tolan with what we’ve spoken of here and see what is desired that way? Then check with Javina, to make certain Salina isn’t simply playing with you on that score? She’s a trickster, at times. Now, if I’m not going to be doing the work on that... I need to get back to this place.”
Not everyone ran out, but Depak took the bowls away, and Daren left to send those messages. He seemed odd about it, which made perfect sense. After all, it wasn’t every day that a man was told he was to marry someone. The last time that had happened for Daren, it hadn’t gone well, either. Ending in murder. Alice, the girl he’d been to marry, was still at the palace, learning magic, unless she was one of the lazy people who had quit.
Anders didn’t really love the sassy cook after that, since she’d gotten pregnant with another man’s child, setting the whole thing in motion and nearly causing a war. Still, even he had to admit that having relations wasn’t normally that important. An exotic man from a different land, armed with magical implements that made women fall in love with them might not have been her fault at all, either. The situation had been dire for a time, but keeping all of that in mind was important.
Especially if the girl had actually kept up with the magic. She wasn’t horrible at it, at least when being bribed to do the work.
Hoatha acted as if nothing had been decided, and simply set Anders to remaking the whole thing, twice, before bedtime. Faster each time, in fact. The man had merely waved a hand and erased the pipes from inside the walls, not even muttering a single word. It had been instant, as well. Hours of work, merely taken away, without seeming effort.
He got the idea, of course. The man was simply bringing the stone back for him, or relighting the flame, so that he could practice. It was the kind of thing he did to people all the time, so he could hardly complain about it now. Of course, he normally didn’t have people work for hours, then take it all away. Still, on the third set of building, when it was finished, the man looked around, the room lit by a glow held at the ceiling.
There were basins in ten places, around the three-room cottage. Those were held up by clever stands, to make certain the stone work was well supported.
“There! Now, this place will probably be filled with hanging roots, come fall. The goal was to learn a new task, and I think you did that very well, Farad. Anders. You should seek your bed now? I must do the same, I fear.” He yawned then. A huge thing that had Anders doing the same.
He was tired, so nodded.
“An idea. Sleep. Well, at least I don’t have bad dreams. That... Anders doesn’t really. Not often.”
Hoatha simply walked out then, waving a bit. Not commenting on those words. Then, the man would probably just understand them. After all, Anders Brolly was only partially the memory of an old man from a faraway place. He was also something very different.
When Hoatha left, something very odd happened, in that Anders spoke to himself. Out loud, his young voice firm.
“Something isn’t right here. He keeps speaking of the magics sent to Dora in different ways. As if they were put there to attack them, not help. It’s subtle and I don’t know him like you do, Farad, but... That feels as if...” There was a tentative tone to the words, as if the boy was attempting to not start a fight with the old man inside of himself.
“Agreed, Anders. We can but watch for now. It’s probably nothing. But...”
There was a sigh then, which sounded frustrated, instead of calm or collected.
“If it’s him, then it’s almost certain that Lady Martya is part of it, whatever is going on, as well. We don’t have enough to even make a guess. If it’s both of them...”
Farad didn’t speak that portion out loud. After all, if it was both of them being in on it, then, Farad had to assume, they were going to do whatever it was they had planned. Being a friend to both of them would be the only thing he could do to slow them, in that case.
He certainly wasn’t going to defeat them in battle, after all.
That part was shocking to think of, when he bothered. Hoatha Eta wasn’t just good with magic, he was so brilliant that he was, nearly, godlike in its use. When he’d first suggested that there was nothing that entire kingdoms could do to him, Anders had figured it as bravado, or a suggestion that he was, in the way of the mage, powerful in combat.
Now he wasn’t certain that it was that at all. That his oldest friend, a man who had been a student of his once, fifteen hundred years or more before, was simply untouchable, in any normal way. Perhaps literally. Anders could, he thought, come up with a complex spell, or a spell idea, that would do that. Allow anything trying to touch him to pass through his body. It would take time and effort, but should be possible.
Hoatha could do that, and make it so that an entire army simply couldn’t connect with him, while everyone else could. He might even be able to have it set so that anyone trying to do him harm would simply pass through him. A shield could leap into place instead, of course. Perhaps both, in different circumstances. Making that happen on demand, with a single word, or a hand signal, might be possible, but it was incredibly advanced.
Honestly, he didn’t know if he was up to the task. Instead of worrying about that, he decided to learn a single new phrase that night before falling asleep. One that would allow his body to pass through anything, while still standing on the ground, so he didn’t fall inside of the world and become trapped. What he did with the idea was a bit different, since the word he chose, releth, would only work on him.
When he spoke the word, he would become intangible to the world.
Then, speaking it again, with a modifier, na releth, he’d become normal again. It was so complex that he didn’t even test it before going to sleep. Just working the sets of words, both of them, over and over again, while in a deep trance. Making them into something so real that his internal mind forced him to dream about that practice, over and over, all night.
Finally, as the morning light poured through the window of his room in the palace like house that all the magic users were sleeping in, Anders rose, cleaned himself and took a deep breath.
“Releth.”
Feeling uncertain, he walked toward the outside wall of the place, and stuck his hand toward it. It passed through without any issue or problem at all. Then, feeling brave, he walked through and back, several times. The world went dark inside, and he was gasping after about a minute, but it did seem to be working.
“Na releth.”
With that, he felt the spell break. It was, he had to consider, not a trick that he was going to need very often. Then, most things were like that, he had to consider. Most days he had no use for a hammer, for instance. If he ever needed to drive a nail, that kind of thing would be really handy to have, however.
A lot of magic was, almost certainly, going to be the same way.
Chapter nineteen
There was a strange feeling to events the next day. For one thing, at time for first meal, when Anders was just about to see to making some bread out of some rather carefully selected mixed grains, which didn’t seem to have any mold or mildew growing on them, Page Walden padded up to the outdoor kitchen. He started walking, some fifteen paces away and did his best to hide that he was heaving, trying to get enough air.
