The Mad Mage of Sevendor, page 18
part #15 of Spellmonger Series
We spoke long into the afternoon of the news, from Lilastien’s supposed madness to Lady Varen’s experimental coupling with Taren to Onranion’s latest foibles (another paternity case – the old reprobate now had seven children amongst Sevendor’s maidens that I was aware of). Sir Ryff wanted to boast of his growing income as his estates were able to trade more directly with Sevendor Town’s growing population. He proudly predicted that his boys would inherit one of the wealthier fiefs in the barony, excepting my own. He reported that his relations with his neighbors were on tolerably good terms, and added a little gossip about a few of the nearby domains that I might find of interest.
It was a lovely day, and we celebrated with a fine supper with the pair before departing. I favored Lady Fallawen with a brief lay I had composed about her bravery and steadfastness, the basis of a longer work I hope to complete someday. She was gratified that I recited it in both Narasi and Alka Alon. Both of my vassals were appropriately delighted to hear about Alya’s pregnancy, though we have yet to announce it. And Alya was pleased to see the concord between the two. Though they are an odd pair, Ryff and Fallawen seem to be making their domestic situation work well enough.
The walk back across the lovely bridge was delightfully romantic for my wife and I. The fair bridge over the sparkling lake at the frontiers of our domain shimmered obligingly as we passed. The shape of the old Sevendor Castle was silhouetted against the imposing structure of the new one, whose facing towers were nearing completion. The great gatehouse where Sire Cei and his family resided seemed a pleasant transition point between the old days of Sevendor and the new. And the magelight above the Mewstower on the western shoulder of the mountain delightfully complimented the far distant spire of Laesgathel on the crest of Matten’s Helm. The cool autumn air and the gibbous moon made the place all the more alluring to the eye.
We were able to see the beauty and sophistication of Sevendor as it is, and appreciate just how far it had developed since we came here a decade ago. I could well hear Prince Maralathus’ perspective on it – aesthetically charming, in a brutal, primitive sort of fashion. In its way, according to his memories, it is as remarkable a place as Callidore boasts. I believe the old prince would have approved of our “quaint” little domain. I know we do.
22nd of Gespamas
I had two unexpected visitors today, and thankfully my visiting ghost was perhaps the best equipped to deal with both of them. Andrews had returned to my mind when I woke.
It began in the morning with Sandoval appearing at the portal just after dawn, eager to discuss the composition of Vanador’s forces. After the inspection visit I paid him a few weeks ago, he and his staff had discussed reorganization of the Guards, as many of the militia originally recruited to defend their lands had found the soldier’s life rewarding enough to prefer it to farming the rocky plateau. Sandoval did not want to discourage such enthusiasm, but there were considerable problems with the way in which the army had been constituted and organized that he wanted my advice on.
Generally our forces had been divided into companies, usually composed of all the recruits culled from the same village who were used to fighting together as well as living together. While this familiarity was helpful, sometimes, it had also led to issues as men who quarreled in camp felt obliged to bring their arguments back to their village after a term of service. Moreover, the composition of each company varied greatly; as the units stood, they could number anywhere from seventy men to four hundred, making provisioning and duty assignments difficult to share equitably between them.
Thankfully, I had the memories of several military experiences in my head. Andrews was perhaps the most ideal for this instance. He had served in the Terran Armed Forces as an infantry officer before he had joined the colonial expedition and had a great understanding of the command doctrines necessary to field a well-functioning army. He was also a bit of a student of Terra’s military history (a subject that appalled Palgrave, in his time) and he was intimately familiar with the Callidore Colonial Defense Force during its prime.
They key to our success, Andrews realized, required some standardization, not just in company size but also in ranks. These had been very important to our ancestors’ military endeavors. Being able to establish a definite system of ranks helped our ability to replace officers, commissioned and noncommissioned, in command of men that they did not personally know. It would emphasize discipline and encourage bravery and initiative in the field to secure promotion. Currently, every “company” no matter what size or composition was led by a “captain.” The subordinate officers he placed in command of smaller components of his men could be called anything from Ancients to Sergeants to Corporals to Petty Captains to Lieutenants. That was highly confusing.
The Vanadori Guards now had seven thousand men officially enlisted, most of them on reserve duty. Sandoval and I eventually settled on a reorganization of the men into seven Battalions of a thousand men each; commanded by a Field Marshal I would commission directly. Each Field Marshal shall have ten hundred-man companies they will be responsible for, each led by a commissioned captain. Each company will be comprised of three thirty-man squadrons of infantrymen and commanded by an Ancient and two corporals warranted by their field marshal. The remainder of the men in a squadron will be considered staff of the captain.
In addition, I decided (with Andrews’ help) each company will have a two hundred man support unit that will see the fighting men fed, sheltered, supplied, and armed. That unit will be known as a hostel company, commanded by a lieutenant of camp answerable directly to the battalion captain. This unit will be responsible for the many wains required to supply the fighting battalion they are attached to, including the field kitchen, field hospital, armorer, arsenal, quartermaster, and chaplain of the battalion. Each component would be commanded by either an Ancient or a corporal.
Andrews’ perspective on the matter was fascinating. He had been a part of a permanent military, one that prided itself on the extensive nature of their training and service. It was with his memory’s encouragement that I directed Sandy to ensure every man was well trained not just in the infantry weapons that they carried, but in archery, sapping, and even horsemanship. While they were not knights, the ability to move them rapidly by horseback would be invaluable, in some circumstances. I wanted them to be equally adept at field maneuvers, siege work, night fighting (handy against the gurvani) and even artillery, if called upon.
Such training is expensive but I had the money. Vanador was enjoying prosperous times, and the only way to ensure that continued was to guarantee security to the folk of the Magelaw. As impressive as our warmagi and Wilderlord knights might be, the Vanadori Guard was the most tangible and persistent means to safeguard our lands. Traditionally the Narasi are suspicious of standing professional armies, for the Magocracy employed such against us during the Conquest. Indeed, the chivalry looked down on the very idea as a threat to their ability to recruit warriors to their banners during a time of war. They even disdained mercenary troops, as a rule, not because they fought for coin but because they remained constituted between engagements.
But Andrews’ knowledge of such matters convinced me that the far-flung landscape of the Wilderlands required this more permanent and methodical approach. Additional units could be commissioned and appended to the guard, but it was essential that we had a base of good, well-trained and well-equipped men ready to march or ride to battle with very short notice. If that meant paying them for practicing their arts or pointless patrolling of the frontiers, then so be it.
Sandoval left much satisfied by our decisions, and seemed eager to return to Vanador to implement them in preparation for the assault on Darkfaller, next spring. I appreciate his enthusiasm.
But the second visitor who came to me today was announced in the afternoon, after Sandoval departed, and caused me to shudder involuntarily. As promised, Moudrost Dryspeaker returned to Sevendor before the end of the year.
It was not that I had not been anticipating the seamage’s return; that did not mean I welcomed it. He was here to claim the next shipment of snowstone for the Vundel. But I knew that the meeting would encompass far, far more than that.
I welcomed Moudrost into my chambers at the old castle with all due respect and regard, pouring him wine and inviting him to sit. I immediately sent for Ruderal, who appeared soon after and embraced his father, albeit guardedly. Our conversation was cordial, but there was a certain tension between us that Moudrost quickly recognized.
I deferred discussion of my concerns, which he graciously accepted, and inquired about when and how he was prepared to remove the next snowstone mountain from my holding. I suggested that it would be helpful if I could give him some guidance about just how he laid the spell, so as to make the area that was left of more convenient use to me and the folk of the Westwood. I also expressed interest in witnessing the spell, as I had little experience with the magic of the Vundel.
He was quite forthcoming, and agreed that he would tailor his spell to my specifications as soon as I was ready. I assured him that tomorrow would, indeed, be agreeable, once I ensured that all of the Westwoodmen had vacated the mountain. To my knowledge almost all of their timbering operations were done, but I did not want any accidents due to carelessness.
We discussed my payment for the delivery, and Moudrost assured me that he had selected a variety of magical corals in addition to the metals I had requested. If my estimations are correct, then my wealth will increase dramatically with such a payment. Then we spoke of other matters, in particular the continued health of his pod of Vundel and their eagerness for more snowstone. Of course I had to relay to him that my experiments in repeating the spell were ongoing but progressing nicely, and I expected to produce more in quantity in the near future.
He accepted my assessment, and did not seem anxious about my success; indeed, he remarked about several of the elaborate spellworks he had witnessed as he had come to Sevendor and praised their elegance. That was a relief to me. Though the Vundel are long-lived, they are not particularly known for their patience.
Apparently, according to the seamage, his pod was thriving with the addition of the snowstone dust to a considerable portion of the reefs they harvested. There was a new resurgence of activity and the production of nymphs. I only know a moderate amount of the life-cycle of the Vundel, largely based on Andrews’ memories of what his wife had learned, but I knew that usually a leviathan will only produce a few hundred nymphs a year, based on the quality of the harvests they made from the reefs. Of those the majority died before they came to maturity and transformed to the next stage of their metamorphosis. Moudrost proudly proclaimed that his pod had spawned nearly a thousand, this year, a substantial increase in the health of the pod.
That brought me to the subject that Andrews’ memory most compelled me to discuss: the disposition of the Vundel toward humanity based on the original agreement between them and our colony. Andrews had been tangentially associated with that discussion as he had participated in the original survey of Callidore and advised the colonial authorities about selecting sites for colonization. I knew that the negotiations (done through the auspices of the Alka Alon) took nearly a decade to agree upon and consisted of a large number of conditions and terms. But once it had been completed and ratified by both sides, and the Vundel had erected the great spell (known at the time as a “quantum field solar filtration effect”) the terraformation and colonization efforts had proceeded apace.
But my questions concerned the specific terms of the agreement, particularly the “good faith” clauses that were added about the ongoing relationship between the Vundel and the human colony. According to Ariel’s records, humanity was obligated to conduct itself like a good tenant, calling any serious problems to the Vundel’s attention like a good renter does to his landlord. In retrospect I see this clause was intended to alert the Sea Folk of any incursions of the Formless or their allies within our territory more than anything else. Moudrost confirmed this.
But my questions concerned our obligation to bring other important matters to the attention of the Vundel and the method for doing so. According to Moudrost’s understanding of the subject, if the matter concerned things beyond the scope of the local pods then the most appropriate means of addressing the Vundel as a whole was a kind of convention that the pods conducted every few years. It took place at a particular place in the middle of the Deeps of the equatorial ocean . . . on the other side of the world.
He explained that the Vundel were concerned that any one pod might take advantage of such information and use it in the constant competition between the various pods of the world, and so the occasion of the convention was the best means to present any such issues to the representatives of all the pods. He easily picked up on the nature of my questions, and inquired as to their origin. I demurred, telling him it was a matter to be discussed after the important exchange of snowstone was completed. I did hint that it involved the impending doom of the world and some insights I might have on the matter. That seemed to mollify him.
I also took the time to inquire as to whether or not he was aware of human civilization beyond the Five Duchies and the settlements to the east and south of the Shallow Sea. Andrews recalled at least five other colonial sites – far smaller than the central settlement – scattered across Callidore during the colonial period. These were designed by colonial doctrine to ensure the continuity of our species in the case of some catastrophe. Contact between them no doubt had been lost even before the Inundation of Perwyn, I figured, but I was curious if any of the smaller colonies had survived.
Moudrost seemed surprised and impressed by the question. He ventured that there were, indeed, other human settlements still scattered across the world, and admitted he had even met representatives of one of them from the south of the equator, a maritime people he called the Shipwrights. He also spoke of another colony that had settled on the eastern continent mainland in the midst of the great Alka Alon kingdom there, but he had never encountered anyone from there in his travels.
I found that fascinating. From Andrews’ perspective the human colony originating in Perwyn was a qualified success: the terraformation efforts had held, humanity had reached a biological equilibrium with the new world, and we had reproduced and prospered far beyond the original colonial estimates here in the Five Duchies. Those smaller colonies were a lot more marginal.
They were based on smaller land masses, far from the center of the colony, and weren’t expected to expand much beyond their initial boundaries. But each had been designed to be self-sufficient. Five had been established, back in Andrews’ day, and four more had been planned once the Vundel had been convinced to extend their magical solar filters over lands they were willing to concede to humanity. It was gratifying to hear at least some of them survived.
I eventually had Ruderal escort Moudrost to a guest hall in the courtyard. I spoke with him briefly in private and made some arrangements for tomorrow’s excavation before dismissing him for the evening to spend time with his father. Then I had a lengthy conversation with Ariel about what we had learned.
I found it fascinating how easily Andrews’ memories allowed me to communicate with the CI on my belt. Of course it had listened intently to the entire conversation, and it had several questions for me to bring up with the seamage on the morrow. Ariel told me that it was still in “data gathering mode,” as the information it possessed on the colony was woefully out of date. But it did have a complete understanding of colonial doctrine and the master plan that the colonial leaders on the New Horizon had put together to guide the effort to settle the world.
For example, I knew that there was a substantial military base that the Colonial Defense Force had established in the eastern lands we now knew as the Ten Kingdoms. Smaller bases had been established in the southern hemisphere and on the far western coast of this continent. There were over a hundred scientific research stations planned, many of which had already been started in Andrews’ lifetime. And not all of them were in approved colonial regions. The possibility that there were other remnants of human civilization that had survived the long centuries excited my ancient ghost’s explorer’s soul.
Tomorrow shall be interesting. Perhaps very interesting, depending on which of my ancient memories is dominant. I should note that “interesting” could very well encompass “disastrous.” We shall see.
23rd of Gespamas
Sevendor has one less mountain today. I am more than twice as wealthy as I was yesterday, if not far more. And those were the least important events of the day.
I began after breakfast with Alya and the children in the great hall of Sevendor’s old castle, after which Ruderal and Moudrost arrived for our survey. I led them through the expansive halls of the new castle before emerging from the southern side of Rundeval. Moudrost seemed moderately impressed by the construction, and particularly intrigued by the Karshak masons busy laboring on the structure. Apparently he had enjoyed little knowledge of any of the dwarvish clans on his travels. Prince Maralathus was amused by this as he whispered in my mind, but it was understandable. Moudrost spent his time almost exclusively in proximity to the seas, whilst the Karshak and their fellows preferred mountainous realms for their settlements.
Our survey of the mountain took all morning. We walked the entirety of the site to ensure there were no lingering Westwoodmen – I’d sent word to Westwood Hall to evacuate the area the previous evening, and warned them of the removal of their mountain – and I sketched for the seamage my desires for the shape and size of the magical excavation. He, in turn, made some astute recommendations about the site. It was inevitable that the pit that the removal would create would become a deep alpine lake, but he suggested a shallow portion that would be able to be used as a marina for the inevitable fishing boats that would someday ply its surface.
