Blood of Liscor: Book 8, page 1
part #8 of Wandering Inn Series
Blood of Liscor
The Wandering Inn, Book 8
pirateaba
© 2022 pirateaba
Cover art by John Anthony Di Giovanni.
Cover esign by Shawn King.
This novel is the e-book version of the free web serial. You may read the entire ongoing story at wanderinginn.com free of charge.
*Best read on Kindle dark mode due to font coloration.
Contents
Dedication
5.21 E
5.22 G
5.23 G
5.24 L
5.25 L
5.26 L
5.27
5.28
5.29
5.30 G
5.31 G
5.32 G
5.33 B
Interlude – Blackmage
5.34
5.35 H
5.36
5.37 G
5.38
5.39
5.40
5.41
5.42
5.43
Interlude – Niers
5.44
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
About the Author
5.21 E
Day 98
“Trebuchet is ready!”
“All clear?”
“…All clear!”
“Right! Three, two, one—”
Rael saw the wooden beam rise into the air and stop. Behind it, a long sling of rope curved up, and the young man saw a large stone fly out of the sling. It was such a smooth, casual motion that it took him a second to remember that the stone now flying high into the air weighed over a hundred pounds.
The massive stone defied gravity for a few seconds, and Rael had to turn his neck and stare with the other Human nobles as it flew across the open ground. Four hundred feet, five hundred feet—when it landed, it was a speck in the distance. The plume of dirt fountaining up into the air signaling the impact wasn’t audible—the trebuchet had sent the stone at least seven hundred feet away!
Rael’s jaw dropped. Immediately, he heard a whoop and then cheering. Peasants streamed past him, shouting with glee as a rider on horseback rode towards the place where the stone had landed, measuring out the distance. When the distance was shouted back, the nobles around Rael murmured. Gasping would have been too uncouth.
“It went that far? How?”
One of the younger nobles standing next to Rael couldn’t contain her disbelief. Lady Haviet fanned herself lightly while craning on the tips of her toes to see the trebuchet surrounded by the excited people.
“Magic, of course. It has to be. There’s no way they could throw something that heavy without a spell!”
Lord Andres looked excited as he pointed at the stone in the distance. His words made the other nobles murmur, but it was Lord Pattin who shook his head.
“It’s not magic, Andres. I didn’t detect anything from it when we inspected it a minute ago. Did you, Lady Cimeca?”
The young [Lady] shook her head, not taking her eyes off the trebuchet. Pattin nodded as he regarded the war machine speculatively. It was being loaded with another stone, a huge chunk of granite that looked recently cut.
“I’ve heard of these things. Siege weapons. War machines. But they’re supposed to be incredibly rare and difficult to manufacture! Pallass makes siege weapons, but the Drakes don’t sell to Humans. There’s a group in Chandrar that’s known for their weapons and Baleros uses some, but—”
Pattin broke off and bowed politely as an older [Lord] approached. Rael bowed as well, tilting his head towards Lord Tourant. The older man was interested.
“What was that I heard you saying, Lord Pattin? This is like the weapons the Drake cities make? Truly?”
He looked at the trebuchet, and Rael saw the half-Troll girl helping to lift another massive stone into the sling. He eyed her, noticing how her slightly cracked grey skin was covered with sweat. Part of Rael wanted to look away. She was monstrous, and yet she was Emperor Laken’s consort. And there was something…impressive…about the way she held her end of the stone while three men had to lift their side.
“I’ve never laid eyes on one myself and I’ve only seen a few sketches, but the similarities are remarkable, Lord Tourant. This is like a catapult, clearly, but the range and power are completely different.”
“Fascinating. And you’re sure of this?”
“Fairly sure, Lord Tourant.”
Pattin answered politely. Lord Tourant glanced around.
“Good, good. Thank you, young man. Excuse me.”
He walked backwards out of the small gathering of the younger nobles. Rael eyed him cautiously. Tourant was a fiery man, and as Oswalt’s father, he had taken it upon himself to punish Rael, Oswalt, and the others when they caused trouble on his lands. But today, Tourant was too busy to recall past misadventures. He strode over to the crowd of nobles, and Rael heard him speaking loudly.
“Your Majesty, this is an accomplishment! Am I to understand that this design is similar to the devices manufactured by the Walled Cities? A truly wonderful feat!”
Rael’s jaw dropped again. Not a second after he’d gotten the information from Pattin and he was using it to look like he knew everything! Andres laughed and gave Pattin a gentle cuff on the shoulder.
“Not bad, eh, Pattin? Maybe Tourant will come running back to you for more advice! Assuming you’re right!”
The young [Lord] smiled politely, not looking at all offended. He nodded to Oswalt.
“Your father seems quite interested in these devices, Oswalt.”
The young man he was addressing jumped and looked around. The glassy look on Oswalt’s face turned to confusion, and then he realized Pattin was talking to him. Oswalt shrugged self-consciously.
“My father? He’s just trying to get ahead of the others. You don’t need to answer him, Pattin. Just because he knew your father doesn’t mean he should take credit for…”
He trailed off. One of Oswalt's hands reached up reflexively towards his ear and then he lowered it. Rael tried not to look at his friend’s ear; a chunk was missing, and though the rest had been healed, the missing flesh would never be restored.
Last night. Rael shuddered as memory swam at the back of his mind. He pushed it away and saw the nobles around him doing the same. Cimeca, Andres, Ellia, Haviet…they all shared that moment of recollection, except for Pattin. He’d stayed out of sight during the—the festivities, Rael recalled.
Cimeca broke the uncomfortable silence.
“Pattin, you should talk with Emperor Laken. I’m sure your knowledge would impress His Majesty and the others.”
“I hardly know much…”
Pattin demurred, but Cimeca gently pushed him towards the group of talking adults. They were surrounding a young man who stood at the center of attention. His eyes were closed, and he was smiling, turning his head from speaker to speaker and nodding occasionally. He began talking as the young nobles approached, and everyone fell silent to hear him speak.
Laken Godart did not shout, but his words carried and he made people fall silent to hear him rather than raise his voice. He pointed unerringly to the loaded trebuchet, though it was behind him and his eyes remained closed.
“Yes indeed, Lord Tourant. That does seem similar to a siege weapon from a Walled City. I have never visited Pallass, of course, but the design of a trebuchet is universal…assuming you know how to make one.”
The [Lords] and [Ladies] surrounding him exchanged quick glances, and Rael could see his aunt, Lady Bevia Veniford, narrowing her eyes. Even a small sentence like this was important. He could practically see her thinking, and Rael had learned enough from his aunt to understand what she was thinking.
So, this [Emperor] Laken had never been to Pallass? How did he know how to make a trebuchet? No, wait, he’d said he’d never visited Pallass, which implied he might have visited another Walled City. When every word could be checked with truth spells, subtleties like this were essential.
Oblivious to the racing minds around him, Emperor Laken smiled.
“I’m impressed you know of trebuchets, Lord Tourant. Only a handful of people were familiar with the concept, and that included seasoned adventurers in my Empire. Are they truly so rare in this region?”
“Well, I…I suppose I’ve heard of them in passing.”
Lord Tourant spluttered and turned evasive as Rael smirked. The older man tugged at his mustache and pointed at Pattin.
“Lord Pattin’s heard of them. The same as a Walled City, didn’t you say, Pattin?”
Every head turned towards Pattin. Not at all worried about being put on the spot, he nodded.
“They appear to be very similar to the ones described defending the Walled Cities. But from what I understand, the design is easy to replicate. Is that the case, Your Majesty?”
“If you understand the basics, yes.”
Emperor Laken turned his head to smile at Pattin. He had no gaze to tell what he was thinking, but he seemed to smile deeper at Pattin. After a moment, he went on.
“These are only a few rough prototypes. I hope to create a market for engineering devices of all kinds. Naturally a…Walled City would dominate the market, but within a year or two I believe Riverfarm will be able to compete in the marketplace for quality, if not quantity.”
“What?”
The exclamation went around the circle of nobles. Laken only laughed lightly.
“Is it such a stretch of the imagination, Lord Tourant? I did not choose to showcase these trebuchets simply as entertainment. Indeed, I’m confident my people can begin mass-producing trebuchets within another month. After more testing is done for safety and efficiency purposes, obviously.”
“But that would be incredible! No one in Izril exports anything like this! You’re telling me—I mean to say that you’re able to create these things at will, Emperor Laken? Your Majesty? Have you an [Engineer]?”
Laken tilted his head thoughtfully as Lord Tourant tried to press him without giving offense. He shrugged.
“I have two [Engineers] already, Lord Tourant.”
“Two—”
“Of course it was difficult for them to construct the first trebuchet, but copying a design is much simpler than creating one from scratch. Naturally, such devices would not be cheap and a small team would need to be trained for its use, but it would be one of a few engineered devices I plan to sell—to a select list of clients, of course.”
This time there was silence. Lord Tourant opened his mouth, hesitated, and found himself unable to ask the obvious question. Select clients? More such devices?
“Your Majesty, are you intending to create a market for engineered devices in northern Izril?”
Lady Bevia peered closely at Laken. He smiled.
“It’s a thought, isn’t it? Unless you disagree, Lady Bevia?”
The old [Lady] tapped her lips thoughtfully with one painted fingernail.
“No…but Pallass has long been known to host the greatest [Craftsmen] and other artisans on the continent. Our port cities import new goods, but the Drakes have had a monopoly on innovation for centuries. Surely you don’t intend to challenge a Walled City?”
Rael held his breath, wondering if the Emperor would take offense. But Bevia’s question only provoked an amused chuckle from Laken.
“Why not? Humans are at least capable of what Drakes and other species are. Perhaps more. This device is one small step. But I am sure that humanity has much, much further to go.”
The nobles stared at him. More. Laken turned to his trebuchet, a device that bordered on magic, with a proud smile. But that wasn’t what kept Rael’s eyes on him. No.
It wasn’t just pride. It was confidence, certainty that made Rael’s heart beat faster for a moment. Emperor Laken just smiled as he turned to the trebuchet.
Humans can be more. In a world where Humans fell behind other races’ superior qualities—the strength of Minotaurs, the willpower of Drakes, the speed of Garuda, the adaptability of Lizardfolk—they had won by being more well-rounded, more prolific than other races. But Laken spoke about humanity’s potential.
A blind man with a vision. It drew people to him, Rael included. Laken turned back to them, and Rael heard the young woman standing next to the trebuchet calling an all clear. She pulled a rope, and the machine hurled another boulder far into the distance. The cheering and applause as it landed was deafening. Laken just smiled once more, a mysterious, welcoming smile.
“Believe me, this is only the start. A trebuchet is a piece of technology, an achievement that requires no magic or class to operate. Once built, it is capable of being used by anyone. Man, woman, child…so long as they understand how it works. Ah, and I see the second one is loaded. Would any of you like to try aiming and firing it, by any chance?”
He looked around, and Rael found himself shouting to be the first to try.
——
It’s funny, but I think the most surprising part of today’s demonstration was when one of the young [Lords] asked if the trebuchet could throw him. Lord Andres, I think it was. That was slightly startling, but what got me was that everyone thought it was a completely natural suggestion.
I had to explain to the excited nobles, patiently, that it didn’t matter if someone cast a [Featherfall] spell on Andres. The whiplash of being thrown by the arm of the trebuchet might kill him before he had to worry about landing. I’m not about to risk a [Lord] dying on my lands, thanks.
I guess it’s a natural thought to have. If you’re an idiot. Lord Andres strikes me as one of the rash, more impulsive young nobles. They’re not all insane, though. I’ve noticed some of them who seem quite interesting. That Lord Pattin for one. And they’re all a lot less rowdy than they were yesterday. I suppose I have the fey to thank for that.
Hi, I’m Laken Godart. [Emperor] of the Unseen Empire, etc. Last night I hosted a banquet with actual faeries from another world, and today I’m showing off my trebuchets. It happens.
“So you can throw a smaller weight even further. Dead gods, this thing can shoot as far as three longbows! What a wonder!”
I’m standing at the heart of an excited group of nobles from Izril. Mostly men—the women have retired to the shade to watch the trebuchets firing. Those that aren’t getting a chance to aim it and fire it themselves. It’s rather like a carnival attraction, with people lined up, wanting a chance to point it and loose a stone.
We’re using smaller projectiles for this demonstration on a scaled-down model of the trebuchet that Tessia and my people have built. That way we don’t have to cart the gigantic hundred-pound stones back and forth. The trebuchet’s arm keeps swinging up in my mind and then being pulled back to the ground as the excited [Engineers], [Builders], and [Tinkerers] swarm over it.
The attraction has pulled in hundreds of villagers, and they’re being rotated in by Prost to get a look before going back to work. The trebuchets are amazing, I have to admit, but I don’t get a chance to admire them; I’m already starting my sales pitch. I smile calmly at the excited [Lord] talking to me and sigh as if I’m a bit disappointed.
“It’s quite an accomplishment. But I’d hardly call it a wonder, Lord Melbore.”
“What? But if you can strike a target a thousand feet away—”
Lord Melbore is a heavy man, standing in front of me. I can sense him in my mind—and smell him too. He’s sweating in the morning sun. I cut him off with a knowing smile as the nobles around me edge forwards to listen.
“A device like this can hurl a stone capable of destroying a city wall—an unenchanted city wall, if it’s not burned or destroyed by the enemy first. It has quite an impressive range, but it’s hardly useful in a mobile battle, is it? And for all the stone is large, I’d imagine it could easily miss groups of running soldiers.”
“True.”
Tourant nods, and I hear a few other disappointed murmurs of agreement. The [Lords] here might be lesser nobility of the realm, but they’ve all probably seen actual battle. They have to defend their lands, and that instills a level of practicality in each of them. I nod, letting them know I’ve considered the problem.
“Adaptability is key, gentlemen. If a trebuchet were only useful for this one purpose, it would be a poor defense indeed. However…Mister Helm! Miss Tessia! Would you prepare one of the special rounds for our guests to watch?”
I raise my voice and turn. Mister Helm, the [Blacksmith] of Windrest, and Tessia, the young woman that Gamel is besotted with, immediately bow and rush towards the larger trebuchet. Entranced, the [Lords] follow them like curious sheep. I watch, knowing exactly what will happen.
The open fields in front of the trebuchets are clear, and no one is allowed to head out into them or near the trebuchets while they’re firing. But now, everyone is told to step back, and as Tessia loads the special ammunition, I see Mister Helm rechecking the sling and frame of the trebuchet.
Good. I’ve gone over the need for safety with the engineering team assigned to testing and building the trebuchets again and again. The last thing I want is someone dying while making one of these things. I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time, but it won’t be today or tomorrow if I can help it.
“Trebuchet clear?”
“Trebuchet’s clear!”
“Alright then! Three, two, one!”
Tessia’s the one to pull the rope. She’s a lot younger than Mister Helm, but she’s one of two [Engineers], and she was not only the first to acquire the class, but she’s the highest-leveled of the two. It was quite amazing to see how she took to the trebuchets—Tessia, a young woman who had lived on a farm all her life and found her vocation making weapons of war.
Because that’s what this trebuchet is. I watch the arm go up in my head. I can’t see it, of course, but I can sense the sling lifting its payload into the air. I can sense the small objects before they’re flung across the field and spray into the ground and a few of the trees, cracking and making loud thuds. Few of the stones made it much further than one or two hundred feet away, but the spread of the volley makes the nobles jump.
