Hostages, page 5
Enough that, he hoped, they wouldn’t think it had been caused by his actions. Not that it hadn’t been, in a way. They’d clearly seen his use of magics as a threat. Even if at least one of them could do such things herself. He didn't wait for permission, moving inside the stout building, the light from the sky illuminating it rather well finally, and hurriedly settled his pack, then walked to the small barn where the horses were being kept.
He had to saddle the main one, and patted the gelding on the flank.
“We’ll have to eat later, I’m afraid. Sorry about that.” That wasn’t, he could tell, a popular option that morning.
Even his own middle growled in protest over the idea.
There wasn’t a lot of speaking, though the three men he’d connected to all were readying themselves for the day. He was in the saddle and riding for over two miles before Regent Alpert spoke again.
“I’ll send a missive to father, immediately, telling what I witnessed here. This could be difficult. Still, you did this without bloodshed, which should allow for some aid to be had from that direction. You might need to flee back here, to Yanse, depending on what is believed about the situation.” There was a grim tone to the words, and in the background Aisla gasped.
Her voice was soft when she spoke, but close to her husband.
“You’re speaking to Anders? Is he well?”
For his part, he scanned the whole world using magic, then, finding no nearby threats, the people still asleep behind him, he spoke himself.
“Let me bring everyone in on this? King Matheus, Prince Robarts and Prince Alpert were all present for that little scene. Princess Aisla is there in Yanse, if that’s allowed?” He waited, uncertain what was going to be allowed that way.
Readying the base spell, even as he pushed the horses a bit, into a soft trot. Wearing them out wasn’t a grand plan, given he wasn’t being pursued, but he sort of wanted to put some road between him and the attackers of the day.
There was a grunt, from the King.
“Baron Kilroy, as well? This is a family matter for him.”
That was a name he knew, magically speaking, having use the old style of communication magic with the man several times before. Frowning a bit, he nodded.
“Depak Sona and Master Toland?”
“Do it, if it pleases you, Prince Anders.”
The actual work took about fifteen heartbeats for him to speak, everyone able to hear the others, suddenly. Not see what they were, however, he took a bit more time and took that part down, since every time he blinked he was risking falling from his horse, as things stood. That made the whole event easier to take, since, even if he hadn’t realized it, that part had been leaving him feeling a bit ill.
Like how some felt when they went on a ship at sea, for the first hours.
He spoke, when that was done.
“Everyone should be linked now. King Matheus, Prince Robarts, Regent Alpert, Baron Kilroy, Master Toland and Depak Sona. Princess Aisla, as well.”
He froze then, not knowing what to say about the whole thing that had happened. It was probably best for him to simply apologize and pay some kind of bounty to the Duke, as much as that idea rankled his soul to think about. The mornings events hadn’t been his doing, but taking responsibility for them, while humbling, could allow them to avoid a war over the whole thing.
King Matheus spoke first.
“Thank you, Prince Anders. There has been an unfortunate event. Earlier, some hours ago, Prince Anders was set upon by Duke Donnelly Caldas. Not for a crime, or insult given, but merely out of fear that Anders, Prince Anders, being there was an implied threat by us. I witnessed part of the attack with my own eyes, thanks to magic being used. Prince Anders, would you go over the whole thing for us?”
He nodded, speaking instantly.
“I woke before the sun, as is my habit. When I exited the small cabin that I’d constructed for the night, made of stone with thick walls, having heard something, I noticed that ten people had come. Nine men and a woman. Duke Caldas, his Heir, Carl, and Ezola Caldas were among them. Ezola was attempting to call energy, like lightening, to strike near me, as a distraction. Realizing this with wizardry, I crafted a small spell, to prevent her from speaking magic at all, until it is released. Then Carl ordered the men to attack. I defended myself with shield and pressing them down to the ground, only, at first. Then, after some time and a bit of talking about what was going on, I used a small spell to inflict light pain on all of the men.” He didn’t grin, lest it be heard in his tone.
The day was a serious one, after all, and could still end in his death, if the people behind him worked out what he’d really done to them, which, in the end wasn’t much.
Baron Kilroy, softly, swore.
“To the darkest pit! Uncle Don and that moron Carlton...”
No one answered him, even if they had to have heard the man. It was how the spell worked. Anders went on.
“I told them that it was a complicated death spell and that only my leaving and getting at least ten miles from them would allow them to live. Also that, if I die inside three days, all the men there, under the Duke, will as well.” He sounded firmer than he wanted, with Prince Robarts making a pained sound, a moment later.
Then, finally, he spoke.
“Will the death curse truly fade if you get far enough away?”
Blinking, since to him it was very clear what he’d done, he focused on riding for a second. The sway of the horse under him a little faster than what was truly comfortable for anyone involved, even if he was more or less used to being on the back of a horse now.
“Since that was a lie in the first place? It will. That spell only caused some discomfort, truly. Then, I asked permission to kill Carlton Caldas, and received it from King Matheus and Regent Alpert, but changed to merely making him sleep, since the Duke asked me to do something else, if I could. That worked, so I put all of them to sleep and am holding them that way, as I ride off. I should hide soon, but so far there’s no pursuit. No one has even found them sleeping back there.”
That was his whole story for the day, so far.
Depak Sona spoke then, his voice smooth and less accented than it used to be, when he’d first come to Istlan.
“Very well. This seems settled for the moment, unless they seek to do battle with you, or to send assassins.”
Anders could see that.
“Only, if they do that, and I die inside the next three days, they, the men there, die as well. Not truly, but I’m not certain they all understand that part yet. Carl seemed to think it was likely, and was correct, but I did enough over the last day that they might not realize I couldn’t do that. Which, I mean, I wouldn’t, but I could probably make up the basic spell, now, having thought about it.”
The trick would be casting it over a wide enough area. Ganges had managed a spell like that once, though. One that had covered much of the world, and through his own bloodline. Making it hard, if not impossible, to think about him by name, as more than a historical figure.
That, honestly, could work for the Duke and his people. It would be hard to do, since Anders didn’t want to impact the King and his family, and they were related by blood to the man, of course. So was Anders, but him not being part of the basic spell pattern wasn’t going to be hard to manage.
Not that he was doing anything like that.
Master Toland cleared his throat.
“Best to avoid that, of course, hold it ready and prepared, in case you need to back your word that way? Baron Kilroy, do you have a thought about this situation?”
That seemed a little out of place, to Anders, but after a brief pause, there was a harsh groan.
“Only that they, even Carlton, aren’t truly evil people. They might be a bit too prone to acting rashly, since it’s a family trait, but they won’t take this too far, if we make a point of informing them about what will happen if they do. Just... Don’t let them know that they aren’t cursed? They will, in their anger, lash out, if they can. At least if they aren’t allowed some time to calm their spirits.” The man paused for a long time.
When his words came again, they were softer.
“They sent an armed troop, and their best magic user, Cousin Ezola, after Anders today, and he barely seemed to even notice they were there. That will be how they perceive this. We need to influence them to let this go, given that. We have to walk a fine line, at the same time.”
Anders thought he understood. Farad, inside, clearly thought that he was wrong in his thoughts.
“So they don’t try to kill me, to remove the threat?”
“Indeed.” The Baron spoke a bit more firmly then. “We must stand between showing your goodwill, as demonstrated by merely removing yourself and allowing them to slumber as you did so, and a true fear of what will happen if they manage to awaken your wrath.”
Anders nearly spoke, about not having that, wrath, in particular, when Aisla chimed in.
“Should we... Send him back in for that, do you think?”
No one spoke for a long time. Finally, Prince Robarts did.
“You know, I think that might be needed. Still, first, he should return here, for planning. We might resolve this in a different fashion, after all, and as long as it doesn’t spark a war, acting too soon is worse than too late, for once.”
That, as odd as it seemed to Anders, was a popular thought that day. In the end he simply nodded, and rode away, which had been his plan anyway.
Chapter four
It was tempting to hide as he moved, later in the day. Prudent, truly. Farad was, clearly, being very closed on the topic, but that particular sense was coming directly from the set of memories that made up the old historian from the southlands. It was a pressure on Anders, and even he could tell that the idea wasn’t a poor one, in many ways.
If he’d been fleeing from a pursuing army, or riding through a hostile land, doing that would be needed rather directly, he had to think. In the moment, however, he was a good fifteen miles from the castle, with the people behind him still fast asleep, on the ground. They had been found, and Anders noticed that, thankfully, everyone seemed to understand that the people there were simply resting, not dead. At least no one had tried to bury or burn the bodies yet, and while scared, the people in the area, mainly servants of the Duke, had simply taken everyone into the hut, in order to care for them, instead of carting them away.
There were some cool compresses, but again, no one was waking up. They wouldn’t, until Anders allowed that to happen. Which, while he wasn’t fleeing in haste, particularly, he also didn’t know if he should allow that any time soon. Keeping them asleep, even in the distance, wasn’t too hard to manage, yet. It would get more difficult, as he moved further away, of course. Indeed, he had to figure that he probably couldn’t make it happen, if he was that far away at the start.
Not for that many people.
That he could, possibly, manage it with one, at a distance, was interesting. At least if he was within some miles and took his time to do it, instead of using it in a mere instance, like he had earlier. When he thought about it, he realized that he actually knew all the needed spell components already, to make it happen. The obstacle was the common one for him. He simply wasn’t powerful enough to really make that kind of thing useful past five, possibly ten, miles away. That wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t stretching halfway across the world, either.
Which thinking about, for some reason, made Farad chuckle.
“Ah, we have both come far, haven’t we, Anders? We worry over not being able to control the minds of others, some ten miles away, as if it is the place of any person to do more than that?”
Anders got the idea, and nodded.
“Yes. There is that part of the thought, isn’t there? Who am I to reach so far? Still, that lack of power seems to be a constant limit we face, doesn’t it? I agree that we can’t use the life of others for our own purposes that way. It is a vile and evil thing, to even consider. Especially for me.”
That was because, he knew, it wasn’t going to bother him, if he did it. That personal lack was also a constant problem for him to monitor.
He went on then, changing the topic, slightly.
“I know that learning the magic more closely is often enough to reduce the power needs of an action, but there seems to be only so much that can be accomplished that way. Or am I missing something? It’s easy enough to learn new things now that... Should I try learning them at some higher level? I can’t even imagine how to do that, but...”
There was a pause, as he rode, noticing a small stream by the side of the road, not far ahead. The horses were fine, since he’d stopped several times already, but a short break wouldn’t harm him. Not that he was stopping there for the day. He was still inside the Duke’s lands, he thought. At least the ones under his power. Really, he didn’t want to rest for the night inside the man’s lands, if he could help it.
Getting off the horse, the darker of the two, who he hadn’t bothered to name at all, even traveling with him for months, he jumped when Farad spoke, using Anders’ lips and voice again.
“I’m not certain either, but it does seem that moderating the flow of power, building that into the concept being used itself, might serve to that end? It isn’t the same as holding more power. Also... Could we somehow focus the travel of power with more purpose to a good end? Right now, we sort of... throw power at things. It seems to spread as that happens, dissipating, which is why reaching further is more difficult. I think. Could a channel be created that tells the magic to stay closer together work for that purpose?”
The idea was interesting, but Anders had to admit, he wasn’t certain he understood it, truly.
Still, a line, like a river or water in a pipe, might work for that. He could just make a word for that, he thought. Then, when it was used, draw a line, using wizard intent, from himself to the target being selected. First, he got the water for the horses, and refilled his own water skin, drinking a bit, so that he wouldn’t have a lack that way.
It wasn’t until he was back in the saddle, having eaten some plain dried apple slices as he went, that he picked a word, then a sigil and tried to form the needed channel for magical power.
Farad interjected before he tried to learn the new concept.
“I think it needs to be tighter. A smaller tube, drawing the power along, and holding it in, using the energy itself. A small portion of it. Like this?”
The idea came into Anders’ mind then, rather powerfully. A thing that showed him just how much Farad Ibn Istel worked each day not to be the one commanding them. It was tempting to think that he was the equal of the older man that way, his mind being sharpened and formed over time into something more certain and powerful than it had been when first they were linked.
It hit him, not for the first time, that it wasn’t strictly the case.
Farad was simply the superior mind, in their pairing. Which didn’t get him out of making the effort to improve himself at all. It simply meant he needed to try harder. To work constantly, in order to, one day, catch up. It might not happen, since Farad was constantly learning as well. Not that it was a competition. That was a thing Anders simply trusted about the man. He could, clearly, have taken over, right from the start. The man had instead, even at a great cost to himself, refused.
In the moment, he needed to create a new magical idea, of course. A thing that, when he tried it, didn’t work, the first five times he tried it. Only on the sixth, when he was several miles away, did he actually come up with a new magical word that seemed to work. At least over a few miles.
Nodding, he thought for a moment.
“I should try this at a greater distance. What should I do?”
The obvious answer was to summon some apples. It was early for most such things, but he used his mind to find a specific piece of fruit, some twenty miles away. A large, fresh and ripe specimen. Then, not using a special name for it at all, he called for it, speaking softly. Expecting pain from it. Only, this time, instead of gasping and feeling like he might die, the whole thing felt as if he might just be calling it from no more than ten paces away from himself. Perhaps a bit harder, but not enough for him to truly notice.
It still took a long time for the fruit to arrive, and it was exactly what he’d thought it was, on summoning. Then he tried a more refined spell, using the same kind of channel for it. It was easier by far that way. Enough that Anders wasn’t totally certain he was doing anything to start with. Not until he tried doing seven apples at one time, using multiple spells. That made it obvious that he was doing something real.
It took a bit of skill to catch the apples as they came in, from horseback, but he got the trick with only a little fumbling, by the sixth one. Each was split, and shared between himself and the horses, as they continued to move along.
As night fell, some twenty miles away, Anders sighed, and stilled his mind, to look at the Duke and his people.
“Fen.” Then he considered the rest of things, and went on. “Fen. Fen.”
The pain left first, then the sleep that had descended over the attackers. Ezola had her ability to speak magic back as well, but she didn't try that out first thing. Instead, as he sensed what they were doing, the sun going down, he rested in a trance, sensing what was going on.
On the first stirring, the hard fighter from earlier sitting up first, the servants spoke, seeming excited that the people weren’t going to sleep forever. Almost instantly, as soon as he stood up, Carl spoke. The intent carrying with incredible clarity, all the way to Anders.
“I’ll kill him!”
Taking a deep breath, Anders focused even harder. Then used the new spell he’d worked on all day.
“Condiu hom intir, fen ot-”
He was connected enough to Carlton, even being over twenty miles away, that he felt the screams from the man. He saw, inside his mind, as the man fell to the floor. Writhing. The men had been hit with a small pain before. This time, Anders hadn’t put that condition into place. This wasn’t a small pain, but rather, simply pain itself. He waited, ready to end it, or even to use another spell, if it was needed.
