The Way of Sacrifice, page 8
Impartial stood, as did Marin, and Bess with her. Impartial led the way back to the deck where Captain Gardener was waiting. After several niceties, the gangway was again run across between the ships. Marin led the way back aboard the Severance. As the gangway was pulled back aboard the Severance, the ship heaved as Marin ceased her use of aether. Marin turned to the captain and said, “Let us get underway immediately.”
Turning away, she walked toward her apartments. Bess hadn’t been dismissed, so she followed after. She was careful to remain a step behind, as she’d been told. Once Marin was back in her apartment, she turned to stare at Bess then said, “It seems that fate itself now conspires against me in favour of Firestorm. I had begun to think that within an eightday, I would hand you over to the academy and watch as his demise unfolded in front of me. Instead, I am forced to acknowledge both you and the Strictures, before an emissary of the Heptatic Empire.”
Bess didn’t say anything as Marin sat and looked her over. Finally, Marin said, “I should let you get your hopes up that somewhere in this unfortunate event is a turning of your own fortunes. I considered that for a moment, but then realised by doing so, I had begun to see you as a person of value, rather than a tool to torment Michael. I had begun to give your dreams some worth, and then I realised that in the end, that would be a dangerous path to head down.
“Not only dangerous for my resolve, but it would also diminish the pleasure I receive from seeing your suffering entirely as the suffering of Michael Firestorm. That you do not weep, nor beg, I had begun to see as your strength of character, and I fear I had somehow pulled back from the certain expectation that you need to be crushed. No, this is not good for you Bess, it is far from good. This has only hardened my resolve. Now, what do you know of the Strictures?”
“I know nothing of the Strictures Mage Marin except what I heard in your presence today.”
“Most candidates would not have learned a thing, Apprentice. I would leave you ignorant if I could, but that is no longer possible. In fact, giving you this knowledge may be to my advantage. Listen well. There was a period in the history of this world that we call the Time of Darkness. It was a time when the use of magic was unfettered.
“People like yourself would have a breakthrough and cause untold damage before they either gained control of it, perished, or were destroyed. Mages ruled the land by fear and strength, for only by magic, was magic contained. The population began to shrink, and there was a real danger that humanity, in its greed and lust for power, would destroy itself.
“The first kingdom to claw its way out of the destructive cycle did so by adopting what became known as ‘The Strictures’. A set of laws by which all mages agreed to abide. Not all mages agreed willingly, but they did finally agree. If not, then they were destroyed. As that kingdom began to recover and then to expand, other realms adopted the Strictures. Sometimes agreement was at the behest of the magic community, but most times it was forced upon them. During this time the empires arose as kingdoms and principalities, dominions and realms of every type of government joined forces to compel their neighbours to adopt these Strictures.
“There still exist areas where the Strictures are unknown or even openly reviled. Places where magic remains unfettered, and darkness still rules. However, the constraints brought by the Strictures have allowed the rest of the world to progress. They have brought honour rather than hatred to those with the skill to wield aether. The Strictures themselves are not uniform either in interpretation, content, nor number. Three elements, however, are common.
“First, any person not abiding by the Strictures of their land must be killed, there is no appeal, nor leniency. Those who might wield aether must be taught control or killed, again, there is no appeal, nor leniency. Any person found who can wield aether but cannot control it, must be killed, again, without either appeal or leniency. In essence, it is control or death.
“Immediate application of the Strictures was either enshrined within them or so practised that it became a strong tradition. Finding someone able to wield aether and not already constrained within the system, Michael either had to accept you as an apprentice, or he had to kill you. Mage Megan and the Mage Hall are recognised as part of our training system while Mage Michael is not.
“Another strong tradition which has survived in most places, though not in all, is that those mages who abide by the Strictures and the self-regulation and responsibility enshrined within them will be afforded honour by all the land. In both the Tarlonin Empire and the Heptatic, this is recognised by accepting both those who have control and those who have submitted themselves to learn control, as automatic members of the nobility. Candidates are not considered such within the empire.
“Diplomat Impartial seeks to claw back some advantage by forcing me to have you at our discussion, and presumably by showing that you lack the social grace to behave as you ought in polite society. All those on his ship will be of noble birth and will have been trained mercilessly in polite behaviour from childhood. Unfortunately for you, I do not intend the loss of any advantage I have gained to be recorded on my accounts. No, even the tiniest embarrassment that you cause the empire in the next few days, I intend to lay squarely at your feet, and then at the feet of Michael who has obviously trained you poorly.
“I have explained this that you might understand that your failure here is a failure of Michael to fully comply with the Strictures. If this ever comes before an inquiry, I can be truth read and honestly say I explained all this to you and still you failed. I will be absolved, and Michael punished. Fear not, regardless of his future punishment, I will hold you responsible tomorrow each time you embarrass the empire. Now go. I have much to do to be ready for tomorrow. You should return to the rigging.”
Bess turned and left. She understood what Marin had said but was even more confused than ever.
Chapter 12
Bess hurried back to her berth and changed out of her robes. Peter was still working up top, and Bess hurried up the central mast to give him a hand. As she arrived, he said, “I could see you from up here, all dressed up like a mage and all. You looked very proper and official. I hope they didn’t ask you anything otherwise your accent and peasant status would have offended those uptight Heptatics.”
Bess and Peter had become friends, and when he teased her about being a peasant, she mocked the fact that he was the one the Bosun felt needed help to do everything. Mostly the teasing was good-natured, and neither took offence. This time however the barb hit a little to close to Marin’s analysis. Instead of responding, Bess just looked worried, wondering what affect her lack of proper etiquette would have on Michael. Peter had expected a witty response as Bess usually gave better than she got. He was confused for a moment when she just looked both hurt and thoughtful before asking what their task was.
When they’d shifted the sail as instructed, Peter turned to Bess and said, “I didn’t mean to harp on so much about being from the highlands, Bess. I was only teasing.”
Bess, who was still thinking about the effect this could have on Michael, had to stop and think through what Peter had said before she could respond. “No. I'm sorry, Peter, I was thinking of something else. I know you were just teasing. You tend to talk instead of work, which is why the Bosun always gets me to help you. If he didn’t, I expect we’d still be in the bay at Whitecliffe.
“Unfortunately, what you said was pretty close to the truth. I don’t know how to behave properly and have to sit down for a meal tomorrow with a Diplomat General, a ship’s Captain, and a noble. I’m pretty sure I’ll make a fool of myself. Maybe you should talk with the Bosun and see if he’ll have you transferred to the kitchen, then you’d be able to watch me do it.”
Peter could see the attempt at humour was somewhat forced, but it gave him an idea. He said, “That’s a brilliant idea, I’ll be right back.”
With that, Peter dropped to the deck and hurried over to talk with the Bosun before Bess could move. As he disappeared one of the Bosun’s mates called out a change to the sail configuration which Bess had to do on her own. She’d always had Peter around before but found she’d learnt enough that she carried out the order almost as quickly as Peter would have been able to. Looking down, she saw Peter and the Bosun looking up at her and then continue talking. Bess wasn’t able to leave the position just in case there was another change needed to sails.
Looking down, she saw the Bosun dismiss Peter, and she expected him to climb back up and explain what he’d done, but instead, he hurried to the nearest hatch and disappeared below deck. Peter didn’t return, and Bess found herself responsible for trimming the yards and making and shortening sails on the upper half of the mainmast for the final quarter of the shift. When her replacement did arrive, she hurried down to see what the Bosun had arranged for the next shift. She expected him to be in the officer’s sitting room, but he was waiting at the foot of the mast.
As she appeared, he said, “Bess, you did good work up there by yourself. For someone who’d not been on a ship before, you’ve learned a lot in the last few eightdays.”
“Thank you, Bosun. Peter is a good teacher.”
“Aye, that he is. This ship belongs to the emperor, and he employs only the best. Has he shown you where the ship’s marines are berthed?”
“No, Bosun, but I’ve seen the area where they practice and where they eat their food.”
“Good. Their senior officer has asked for additional help this evening and tomorrow. Report to their practice area and ask for Major Greenmount. You will do as she instructs even if you have to miss your rest period. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Bosun.”
“Off you go.”
Bess bowed her head and hurried off as she said, “Aye, aye, Bosun.”
The marines aboard the ship used a large area set aside for them to practice swordplay and hand to hand combat. It was aft of the main storeroom which held the ship’s provisions and Bess had seen them training as she’d run messages for the Purser. Bess stopped only briefly to get a drink and wash her face then made her way to the training area.
As she approached, she could see two marines standing guard at the entranceway and another twenty or so sparring in pairs behind them. Bess came to a halt several paces from the entry. She waited until one of the guards looked at her as if waiting for a comment.
Bess said, “I’m Bess, the Bosun sent me to receive orders from Major Greenmount.”
The one who’d looked at her said, “Wait!” The other turned and disappeared around the corner of the bulkhead. The major must have been nearby as the marine returned within moments and said, “The Major will see you soon. Wait here until she’s ready.”
Peter had suggested that regardless of rank, it was always wise to show some deference to the marines. Bess nodded and said, “Yes, Sir.”, before taking a step back and waiting with a more relaxed stance. The Purser, on occasions, had kept her waiting for almost an hour. The first time Bess had remained in a ready position while she waited and had suffered from severe cramps.
She’d learned that except for Marin, everyone seemed to understand if you rested while waiting. Less than five minutes went by before a woman dressed in the purple and gold of the empire stepped into sight. She was several hands taller than Bess and had short dark hair, peppered with bits of white.
Bess came to attention and waited. She’d learned that the next move belonged to the person she’d come to see. Repeating information was seen as a slight on the go-between and should only be done on request. Major Greenmount said, “Apprentice, the Bosun assures me you are capable of keeping what you see and hear to yourself. I have a task for you but want it made very clear that this is not to be spoken of outside of my presence and then only if I raise the issue. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Will you agree to those conditions?”
“Aye, aye, Sir.”
“Then follow me.”
Bess followed the Major through the centre of the room to a door at the far end. The major opened the door and waved Bess in before entering herself and closing the door behind them. The room was perhaps five paces on either side and besides a desk, a table and six chairs, two people were waiting. One was Peter and the other a marine dressed in the marine’s formal uniform. He looked maybe ten years older than Bess. The Major waved Bess toward one of the chairs near Peter and then sat down herself.
Bess had been surprised to see Peter but other than a half-smile she did nothing except take the seat and turn to face the Major. No one spoke for several minutes, although Peter began to squirm a little. Finally, the Major said, “Peter, you should learn to be a little more patient. I’m sure Bess has even more reason to know what’s happening, but she’s learned to wait. Perhaps she will teach you some techniques later.”
Peter looked a little embarrassed but just bowed his head a little and said, “Aye, aye.”
That Peter forgot to mention who his agreement was being given to shocked Bess, the Major said, “Aye, aye, who?”
“Aye, aye, Aunty Wen.”
Bess still didn’t move although her eyes had grown a little wide. Major Greenmount said, “Apprentice Bess Highland, Peter here has spoken of you often in the last few eightdays. On several occasions, he’s been rather upset at the way you’ve been treated aboard the Severance. As I’ve questioned him, it appears his anger is based on observation rather than anything you have said. I checked with the Bosun, who assured me that you are the soul of discretion. If you hadn’t been, then I would have refused Peter’s request, even though I agree with his sentiment. As it is though, the request was given with the Bosun’s approval. My name aboard ship is Major Greenmount.
“On leave, I am known as Countess Wendolin, third daughter of the Duke of Greenmount. Peter is the son of my older sister, Countess Julianna. It is not uncommon for young lesser nobles to spend some time at sea or in the army to learn obedience and responsibility. Peter is not really a lesser noble, but these are qualities he still has a need to learn. Also with us today is Lieutenant Aroon Couling, otherwise known as Lord Aroon, Viscount of Mistvale. Peter has asked that we give you a crash course in noble manners. For the honour of the empire, and for no other reason that I will share, I have agreed. I require that you never speak of this outside this room.”
Bess looked around the room and smiled at Peter as a small tear gathered at the corner of one eye. Turning back to face the Major, she said, “Major Greenmount, thank you. I will not talk of this outside the room, but I will always treasure your kindness.”
Major Greenmount turned to Aroon and said, “Lieutenant?”
“I will help, Major. It’s always a relief when the teeming uneducated masses learn some refinement, it makes them slightly more bearable.”
When Bess didn’t react to the slight he smiled at her and nodded, then he said, “Good. Lesson one, never let disdain for another show on your face or in your stance, not even in your eyes. You may feel it, you may even intimate at it in your speech, but you must never let your body add its agreement to your words. This keeps people from ignoring the substance of your words and only listening to what your body says they should listen to. It protects you, but it also gives greater weight to everything you say.”
After more such instructions the majority of the next two watches involved teaching Bess how to stand, how to sit, how to address people, how to use the cutlery correctly, when to interrupt, how to interrupt, and numerous other details that the three nobles could remember. With only an hour left before Bess was due to attend Marin, the major brought the lessons to a close and said, “Bess, you have an hour until the next start-of-watch. Use the time to rest, although I suggest you don’t sleep. Take an opportunity to wash your face at least. I know I’ve already said it, but this session ‘never happened’.”
Bess nodded, “I do understand Aunty Wen and have no fear, the kindness you and Aroon have shown me will not be mentioned by me, yet know that I will not forget it.”
Peter looked up and said, “What about my kindness?”
“Kindness? I thought you were just trying to pay me back for doing all your work and making you look good.”
Bess softened the tease with a smile and stood almost gracefully. With a bow at just the right angles for a countess and two viscounts, she headed out of the room and rushed back to her berth. Bess did as Wen had said and washed her face then sat on her sea-chest and leaning against the side of the ship. She settled into the breathing pattern that she found most relaxing. When the end-of-watch bell rang, Bess stood. She was feeling rested even though it seemed like she’d only been sitting for a minute or so. Straightening her hair, Bess donned her robes and then hurried to Mage Marin’s apartments.
Chapter 13
When Bess arrived at Marin’s apartments, Fiona showed her inside. Marin was once more sitting in her usual seat. The Bosun was standing at the far wall. Marin looked up from the book she was reading and said, “This session I want you to take long, slow, deep breaths through your nose. Attempt to fill your lungs to capacity, take in as much air as possible by expanding your belly and diaphragm. Hold briefly then exhale slowly, remove every last bit of air by contracting the muscles in your abdomen. Close your eyes and keep this up until I tell you to stop.”
Bess did as she’d been told. The breathing pattern wasn’t easy to maintain, and she found it took all her attention to do so. Slowly, she felt herself begin to relax as everything around slowly slipped away. Her attention was brought back to reality when Marin said, “Acceptable, now open your eyes.”
Bess opened her eyes and focussed on Marin. The interruption and opening her eyes almost made her lose the pattern, but she’d learnt to maintain whatever pattern she was given and forced herself to exhale everything. Marin said, “The barrier which holds back the aether at your fingertip has not changed perceptibly in the two eightdays, it is no thinner than the barrier in your other fingers. I would like you to change your focus. Move your focus to the middle or longest finger of your left hand.”
