The Brotherhood Of Piaxia

Prologue

Fire licked at the tapestries. The old castle burned well under the torch. The dead lay everywhere.

So much for a bloodless coup.

Lord Ramtok could not understand why the king’s guard put up such resistance. Did they not understand this action was not just a coup, but liberation?

He and the other warlocks had miscalculated badly with the false assumption that overthrowing the king would be an easy matter. The people’s resentment of his tyranny ran deep. Torture and corruption were rampant throughout the kingdom. Who would have believed there would be resistance?

Here in Lia, the hometown of the king, things proved to be especially bad. The royal family treated everyone as slaves. One would think righteous men would step aside for the liberators Ramtok considered himself and the other members of the Brotherhood of Warlocks to be.

Help me put these fires out! Need we be as barbarous as those we depose?

He narrowed his eyes to concentrate. With a gesture of pulling in towards him, he used his skills to put out the largest blaze. The other warlocks followed his lead and soon many of the fires were extinguished. Then, as the warlocks rested to regain their magical strength, the few soldiers who fought with him began a bucket brigade to finish the job.Of the Brotherhood, only the twelve who possessed the key remained. All others must have proved insufficient in their magics to survive.

Twelve lord warlocks, twelve towns in the Kingdom of Piaxia; a fortunate coincidence.

These men would begin the task of ruling the Kingdom of Piaxia in a just and fair manner.

Bring those of the royal family who remain here to swear their allegiance to our new order, the Brotherhood of Warlocks.

He dispatched a runner to bring the women and children of the king’s bloodline to stand before him and his compatriots.

In short order, the man returned. Lord Ramtok, I bring grave news. I found all in the private quarters slain, even the children.

He became infuriated. How could this have happened? The murders of women and children will not endear the Brotherhood to the populace.

As he glanced around, he noticed Lord Kurmia wore a foul grin. Kurmia, did you have anything to do with this?

Ramtok, a great warlock you are, but a poor judge of human nature. If we are to rule, it would be best done without anyone inciting trouble and rebellion. I, for one, do not wish to spend eternity looking over my shoulder for some grandson of the king leading a revolt. I ordered all members of the royal family put to the sword lest any escape and begin their quest to recapture the crown.

Ramtok absorbed what Kurmia said. The disturbed feeling within him came from the comprehension that the other man’s analysis was true.

The people will eventually forget the monarchy and this bloodbath.

Very well then. Let us leave this dark day behind us and begin the task of enlightenment of all who remain in the kingdom. Starting today, the summer solstice, let there be celebration in all of Piaxia of their liberation and the beginning of the first year of the rule of the Brotherhood of Warlocks!

Chapter One

Tarlok’s excitement coursed through him; his pulse up, hands fidgety, and eyes darting. Today was the day of the summer festival in Rok.

Around him people moved with smiles on their faces and gaiety in their hearts. The summer solstice brought with it not just the festival, but the early crops from the fields and the beginning of the warm, pleasing days of summer.

It also represented the anniversary of Piaxia’s liberation from the monarchy. Twenty-three years had passed since Lord Ramtok led the revolt and removed the king. Like him, Tarlok proudly bore part of the name of his hometown in the final two letters of his own name, a common practice throughout Piaxia.

He felt a stinging slap on his back and turned to face his assailant. Oh, Savan, it’s only you!

What did you think, little brother? That I would let you go by unnoticed? I may be on guard duty, but I won’t miss the chance to pick on you when it avails itself. You were walking by in a daze when I stood not more than three paces away.

He rubbed at his shoulder. Did you have to hit me so hard?

Of course. It’s my duty as your elder to knock some sense into you.

I don’t care what you say. I’m still going up there.

Savan wrapped an arm around his shoulders. You know Father will be disappointed. He’s hoping you’ll forget this and follow me into the City Guard. You handle a sword well for a kid.

He elbowed Savan in the ribs and pulled away. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m sixteen now and that means I can take the test if I want to.

Savan chuckled. You’re still my kid brother, no matter how old you get, and I’ll always be looking out for you, no matter how stupid you get!

We’ll see who’s stupid! Warlock Prattrow can identify a person’s mana shine and says I have a good one. I’m going to get picked, just watch.

Savan‘s jovial countenance disappeared. For your sake, I hope so. But Capolidu hasn’t picked a new apprentice in five years. The way I hear it, he’s just too old to teach another, and Lord Ramtok is too softhearted to replace him as master warlock.

Maybe this year will be different! Maybe he’s due. And I intend to be the one he chooses.

Whatever you say, little brother, but say you get picked, what then? Huh? You train for two or three years and when you get your robes, you end up where? At the bottom of the pile. I got promoted to captain today.

Captain! Really? Wow, does Mother know?

I suppose.

Just because you’re promoted, don’t let it go to that fat head of yours. You know it doesn’t hurt that Father is commander of the Guard!

Hey, I deserve it! Father says my leadership in the fight with those Karsargi raiders up in the northern mountain pass earned me the job.

One of the guards called for Tarlok’s brother. Savan gave Tarlok a short punch to his shoulder. Gotta go, see ya later, kid. Let me know what happens.

Tarlok resisted the desire to kick him in the shin. Okay, see you later, fathead.

He meandered through the crowd. The town square was packed with people, eating, laughing, and cajoling. Everywhere street vendors sold stuff, from trinkets to fine jewelry, from early vegetables to prepared foods.

The mouthwatering smell of kabobs drew him and he scrounged through his pockets to make sure he had enough coins to buy one stick.

At a gentle hand on his shoulder, he turned his head to find Merchant Avradiman beside him. It’s Tarlok, isn’t it? Jurg’s boy?

Yes sir. We met before. You invited my father and all of us to that party you held on the spring equinox.

Avradiman chuckled, his and belly jiggling, which brought a smile to Tarlok’s face. Yes, that was quite the thing, wasn’t it? But you have grown some since then, been eating well, I take it?

I’ll say! Some of the foods you served were amazing, and fresh apples so early in the year, who would have thought!

Just a few things I imported from Riaz, a small price to pay for the favor of the commander of the Guard. Enjoying the festival?

Tarlok turned his head to eye the succulent meat grilling an arm’s length away. Trying to anyway.

Avradiman must have guessed his mind. Kebabs! They sure do smell good. Let’s have a couple, shall we? Something to tide us over until the festivities begin.

He paid the seller for four, took one, and put three into Tarlok’s hands. Here, at the rate you’re growing, you need these more than me. He put a hand on his expansive waist. It wouldn’t surprise me if you caught up to that big brother of yours.

You really think so?

He smiled. One never knows for sure about anything. Avradiman bobbed his head from side to side as if debating something. Then again, he is awful big, isn’t he?

Yeah, he is.

So are you going to join the Guard like him? I bet your father would like that.

Nope, well, at least not yet anyway. Today’s the day they select new apprentices for the Brotherhood. I’m hoping to get picked.

Oh ho! So no following in your family’s footsteps for you. A warlock, you say. Looking to be one of those black robed givers of the realm’s justice? A noble position but not one for the average man. Mastering the magical arts can only be achieved by very few—very few indeed.

Warlock Prattrow says I have a chance.

He does, does he? But the decision is Master Capolidu’s, and he has been most selective of late.

Tarlok sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump. Yeah, I know. No new apprentices for five years.

Avradiman shook out a brightly colored robe and draped it over his own shoulders. The vivid patterns and stitching sparkled in the late morning sun. I must ready myself for my duties as Festival Marshall; I wish you good luck today, young Tarlok.

Thank you, and thanks for the kebabs.

The merchant gave a short laugh. Think nothing of it. Until the choosing, then. He strode away leaving Tarlok to finish the kebabs.

Tarlok retrieved the few coins from his pocket. Perhaps he possessed enough to buy one of the sweets for sale at the next stand.

***

Avradiman worked his way across the town square, shaking hands and smiling. He accepted the people’s well wishes and passed them on to others as he went. As Festival Marshall he enjoyed the camaraderie of this day when everyone could forget their daily drudgeries and bond as citizens of the town of Rok.

He tilted his head back, shading his eyes with his hand. The sun would reach its zenith soon and he needed to get things started. He made his way to the tier of seats saved for the city leaders. He found Lord Ramtok and his wife already there, smiling and greeting passersby. Good day, Lord Ramtok. It’s nice to see you and your lovely wife as usual.

The Brotherhood protect you, Merchant Avradiman. I see you have not escaped the duties of Marshall again this year. What is this, seven years in a row?

Eight, but who’s counting. Besides, I enjoy the position of honor given to me by my fellow merchants.

"Yes, that association of yours… I sometimes wonder who is in charge in Rok, me and the Brotherhood or you and the merchant’s guild."

We are citizens of Rok whose main interest is the welfare of our community.

I don’t know why it is, Avradiman, but your mind is guarded. A rare thing among those other than warlocks. I cannot be sure whether you speak the truth, and if your goals are the same as mine.

He bowed. My Lord, never would the guild be so presumptuous as to interfere in the machinations of government. We are but a simple lot, looking to ensure our entrepreneurial successes, nothing more.

Lord Ramtok burst out laughing. Taking a knuckle to one eye, he sat down and composed himself. And modest to the last. Have no fear. I do not resent the minor interference your people present to me. In fact, I regard them as refreshing and an integral part of governing.

I am glad you do. After all, without the monarchy who else would keep the Brotherhood of Warlocks in check?

The lord assumed a grim mien. Merchant, do not besmirch the Brotherhood. Here in Rok, warlocks uphold the law, nothing more.

Avradiman folded his hands behind him and nodded. My Lord, I meant no insult. I know how well the Brotherhood behaves here in Rok and I can only attribute it to your selfless leadership. I merely reference rumors I hear from Lia, where it is said restraint is not so often practiced.

Lord Kurmia rules there, but even he must report to the Council of Lords when we meet on the winter solstice. As the former capital of Piaxia, Lia is a large city. Management of such a large populace might require a firmer hand.

It is good then you still chair the council, my Lord. I am sure any transgressions reported will be dealt with fairly.

All right, you have made your point. Are there not some duties you need to perform? The sun is high and the people await.

He peered at the sky. Once again, you are right, my Lord. Excuse me as I begin the proceedings, the Brotherhood protect me.

A dais some ten hands high rose near the tiered seats and he clambered atop it to address the crowd. Citizens of Rok, gather ’round! The time to begin the celebrations has drawn nigh! Let the summer solstice festival begin!

For the better part of the afternoon, he presided over a large number of presentations, from prize student to prize pig.

When it came time for those who reached the age of ascension to be recognized, Lord Ramtok took over and Avradiman stepped down.

The young men and women who had reached the age of sixteen since the last summer solstice gathered in front of the platform. I look out and see not children anymore, but the future of our fair city of Rok. You are now proudly recognized as adults within our society. For the young ladies, you have leave to seek marriage if you should so desire, for the young men, employment.

Whatever path you take, it should be one to fulfill your dreams, your goals, and your aspirations, for as you strive to better yourself, you better all those around you and in so this fair city.

As your lord and guardian, I welcome each and every one of you. May the Brotherhood protect you.

Lord Ramtok stepped down and Avradiman resumed the stage. A number of young men, in anticipation of what would be coming next, jostled to the front of the crowd. It is time for those who seek apprenticeship with the Brotherhood to step forward, Master Capolidu will review the candidates.

The elderly master rose from the tiered seats and slowly approached the gathered young men. He could hardly guess at the master’s age; some said he’d passed his eightieth year. The man hunched in a broken down posture as if the weight of the world rode on his back.

Avradiman stepped down to accompany him. In front of each applicant, the master would peer, not at the youth’s face but around it, examining the mana aura of each to determine their candidacy. He had been told by another warlock that it appeared as a blue halo but, for the life of him, he could observe no such vision.

In the old days, Capolidu would have given a practiced flourish of his hands, exaggerated gestures, and loud pronouncements as to the capability of each candidate and whether they possessed the qualifications he sought. But now he behaved as if it were nothing more than a waste of what little time was left to him. As a result, the process had drastically shortened in recent years to a mere glance and wave of dismissal. Perhaps the rumors were true; he no longer wished to train anyone.

When he approached Tarlok, he hesitated. Avradiman wondered if what Prattrow had told the lad was true. He held his breath as the old man wavered then, finally, he frowned and moved on.

Avradiman liked to believe he was a sharp man. His sharp wit and penchant to exploit opportunities made him both respected and wealthy. So when Master Capolidu overlooked young Tarlok, he saw a chance to gain some valuable favor.

Before the master could dismiss the applicants in total, Avradiman grasped his arm and, in an appearance of providing a steadying hand, guided Capolidu where he wanted him to go. Master may the Brotherhood protect us, a word with you. Your countenance reveals this year’s crop is not to your liking.

The old man feigned pulling his arm away, but in truth probably welcomed the firm support. And what is that to you? Hmm? I do not see how there is a profit in this day for you, nor why you should meddle in my affairs.

Here was a game Avradiman relished. He gently reasserted his grip upon the master’s arm. Your affairs are your own, and I would never attempt to tell one such as yourself what the task is and how it should be performed. I recall my own disappointment when you rejected me years ago and I know magic does not fill my aura, nor have I the skills to detect it. I am just taking this moment to introduce you to one of the candidates personally. Tarlok, son of our proud Commander of the Guard, Jurg.

He had deftly led Master Capolidu to stand in front of Tarlok.

He knew the master to be old, frail, and surly at times, but he was no fool. Avradiman was pleased as, after a quick glance in his direction, the master focused on the young man.

The son of Commander Jurg, you say. Yes, yes, I see the resemblance, but I thought you a member of the Guard?

Tarlok shook his head. No, sir. That would be my older brother, Savan.

Yes, I seem to recall now. Hmm, the last time I saw you, you were no more than a young boy running through the streets with the other urchins plaguing our alleys.

That might have been me sir, but as you can see, I have reached the age of ascension and am ready.

"Ready you say. I decide who is ready. Still, there can be no doubt you possess the mana necessary."

Master Capolidu paused, as if lost in thought then glanced at Avradiman and winked.

In the next instant the old man began a charade of wild gestures and loud pronouncements. What do we have here? An aura so bright that I am near blinded by the sight of it! He drew a large circle around the boy. I am surprised that such an aura even exists! What is your name again, lad?

I am Tarlok, noble Master, son of Jurg.

Tarlok, son of Jurg, you say. I know a Jurg, a great fellow, commander of the guard, and his son Savan, a captain in the same guard. Surely you are not his son as well, are you?

The very one, Master. My father and brother are well known and they bring me great pride.

Well, won’t they be the proud ones when they learn of your acceptance into the Brotherhood as this year’s apprentice! Let it be marked in the records that I, Master Capolidu, select Tarlok, son of Jurg, brother of Savan, as my choice for the twenty-fourth year in the glorious reign of Lord Ramtok!

A raucous cheer went through the square as those in attendance, fooled by the entire thing, roared their approval and lifted the festivities of the day to a higher level.

Stepping away to allow his new apprentice to be congratulated by those around him, the master leaned towards Avradiman and whispered, Thank you, you have done the Brotherhood a service today. Perhaps we might meet later so that I might greater acknowledge your service.

I will visit you after the festivities have ended.

In the anteroom to my chambers then, around dusk.

I will be there as you require. Avradiman released the master’s arm and waited while he retired into the castle then returned to the center of the courtyard to continue with his duties as Festival Marshall.

Before he made it that far, though, a strong hand pulled him from behind, cutting short any momentum he had. Avradiman spun to find Jurg gripping his upper arm firmly. I watched carefully the entire sequence there in the courtyard. Did you not think I could not tell Master Capolidu had no intention of selecting my son today?

The game was still on. Jurg, my friend is old and feeble. I provided only a crutch so he might move among the applicants with ease. As to his intentions, I find his sour demeanor makes it difficult to determine anything in his mind besides getting out of the sun and retiring to his quarters for a glass of wine at the earliest opportunity. As you well know, I would put myself at some risk trying to tell any warlock his business and how he should conduct it. Theirs is not a wrath I wish to incur.

Jurg released the grip on his arm. Perhaps you are telling the truth, you sly dog, and perhaps not. I am not fond of the idea of Tarlok becoming a warlock in the Brotherhood. But today, by ascension, he is a man, and the choice is his, not mine. I would not stand in the way of the path he desires. Perhaps your gentle support for Master Capolidu has done my son a good service and so, for me a service as well. Visit me at my home tonight so I might share a drink with you and perhaps show a greater appreciation for your assistance.

Avradiman gave a short bow. Thank you, but my duties will carry me until at least sunset. I hope it will not be too late to pay a visit?

Jurg returned the bow with one of his own. Never too late for a friend–after sunset it is, may the Brotherhood protect you. He strode off to join the celebration circling his son, Tarlok, the newly appointed apprentice to the Brotherhood of warlocks.

Avradiman returned to the podium. And now, my favorite part of the festivities. As I understand it, no less than four maidens have consented to wed.

The young couples stepped forward and he took them through their vows. With so many weddings, a wonderful celebration would carry on long into the night. He planned to return after his agreed upon visits to join in the revelry.

Today did indeed, promise to be a very profitable day.

Chapter Two

Tessia always found the front garden a good place to be when she wanted to free her mind of troubles. Especially now with the flowers in full bloom, their colors and aromas filling her senses.

She knelt to pull some weeds cropping up between the plants and thought of the worries inhabiting her from the night before. As she tugged out each leafy intruder, she imagined it to be a disturbing thought in her mind being tugged free.

She yanked at a weed. That’s for making me go to the festival alone.

She pulled at another. And that’s for making me come home early.

And a third... This one’s for that poor girl who was forced to marry that ogre warlock against her will.

How could the Brotherhood pass such a stupid law? When girls reached the age of ascension in Lia, they must consent to a marriage proposal if the suitor was an unwed warlock. Surely, it wasn’t like that in other cities. At least not according to what her father told her, and he had trade dealings all across Piaxia. She did not doubt his knowledge.

The next weed held firm with strong roots. She gave a hard yank and as the plant ripped free she tumbled backwards into the walkway. Sitting on the hard cobblestones, she gazed at the defeated plant in her hand and realized the anger within her was gone.

She got up, dusted herself off, and knelt down to conduct a final inspection in case any other invaders missed her original purview.

A creeping sensation ran up her spine when she sensed someone behind her. Spinning, she looked up to find the warlock Morgeus. What do you want?

I wondered why you weren’t in the square when girls of the age of ascension were on display.

She stood and once again brushed the dirt from her clothing. I am still only fifteen and not of age until next month, but even if I were, I wouldn’t be standing up there for the likes of you.

He reached for her waist and pulled her close, his breath hot and foul and his body odor rank with lack of bathing. We don’t have to wait for the festival. We can wed next month, when you turn sixteen.

She struggled free and slapped his hands away. Don’t you dare touch me! You’ll never have me. Never!

Morgeus chuckled. Tessia, I thought you understood things by now. Surely you understand the Brotherhood can pick from all maidens at the age of ascension during the festival. You just missed this year’s festival by a few weeks, otherwise, you would be mine, but next year…next year you will not be able to hide behind your parents.

A chill ran through her. That this vile, disgusting excuse for a human had the power to take her as his wife, without her consent, turned her stomach. But most of all, the idea put a deep fear in her that such a thing could happen. The sheer audacity of his statement froze her where she stood, but her loud protest had achieved one thing. Her mother loomed in the doorway of their home with a glare that, if she could strike the warlock with it, would kill him a thousand times and then some.

Although a young man of twenty-one years, and in good physical health, facing down a mother’s wrath when she is defending her child was not for the timid or the cowardly. In her opinion, Morgeus fell into the latter category.

Her mother, Delphelia, charged right up to the intruder, berating him, and, as Tessia expected, he shrank backwards in an awkward fashion. Drawn by the noise, several of the estate attendants hurried into the yard.

Morgeus, how dare you behave in such a manor in this courtyard? I am amazed that such conduct is tolerated in the Brotherhood. Don’t think that I won’t talk to your superiors about this, or, for that matter, your parents. I’m quite sure your mother and father didn’t raise you to be such a lout!

He assumed a stance of mock effrontery. Madam Delphelia, you know my responsibility is to protect you and all the citizens of Lia. The arduous nature of our duties is why Lord Kurmia has granted us spousal rites at the festival, for we have no time to properly woo a wife.

I am not one to put all my faith into the protection by the Brotherhood. There are many in this town who believe you abuse your office to your benefit like the thieves you are!

A sneer crossed Morgeus’s face. Don’t think your finery and your fancy house will give you any sway with the Brotherhood, Madam Delphelia. You and your husband Frollence, well known monarchists as all you merchants are, are so much chaff in the wheat, needing to be beaten free from the stalk that is this fine city of Lia.

Her mother became further enraged. Fine city, indeed! Spoken like any one of you sewer rats defending the honor of this gods forsaken hellhole of a city! Kurmia has allowed vermin like you to run free through the streets until no one feels safe, even in their own home!

During this shouting match, Morgeus retreated to stand by the front gate. Treasonous words you preach. Surprising when one notes your name as having its roots in our city. Why is that so? You speak like an outsider, not a citizen of Lia. The Brotherhood protects you. Why, I don’t know. Master Varastriago has always said you and your husband were scourge in this town, preying upon the innocent. What is needed is for both of you to be brought down a peg or two. My fellow warlocks and I shall see to that.

He spun on his heel and marched away, chirping back at Tessia and her mother. I go to report your slander, Madam Delphelia, and we will find out how the law of this land is interpreted on your behalf.

Tessia broke into tears and rushed into her mother’s arms. Delphelia flushed and trembled with anger. Run to your father and bring him home straight away. We must make plans tonight!

Tessia ran down the streets to the merchant district where her father traded in imported merchandise. She hoped she would find him quickly. She could not remember seeing her mother so enraged. But there was something else she recognized in her mother. Something she’d never identified before. Fear.

***

Frollence rolled the rich material through his hands. The latest shipment featured a fine, imported silk from distant Riaz, on the other side of the great sea. The quality of the cloth was unlike anything to be found in Piaxia and the upper class clamored for it whenever a delivery arrived.

Can you feel the smoothness? The way it glides over the skin… Yet, observe the density of the weave, tighter than any loom hereabouts can produce.

The merchant ignored his invitation to touch the material.

The old fool knows only too well what quality this silk rates and the high price it will fetch when made into clothing.

Baria, a small, impish man, appeared even more comical as he frowned. Is it so hard for you to part with a coin? You know we are already offering you top price for these goods, and business in Lia is not as good as in other towns. Whatever your connections that allow you to get this merchandise first, have a heart for your fellow townsfolk trying to earn a meager living from the clothing business.

Frollence waved a hand in dismissal. How like you to play the pauper, yet I know your Brotherhood clientele will reward you handsomely when you stitch these fine cloths together in that sweatshop of yours.

He turned his attention to the two men accompanying Baria, merchants he had traded with in the past. And bringing your competitors with you today in a united front is a new low for you. I hope you gentlemen understand how he is using you to get a lower price for himself. Surely you don’t think he is going to split this purchase evenly with you? I hope you reached an understanding with him before you came?

As the three began to argue amongst themselves as to the division of the merchandise, Frollence smiled. He’d guessed Baria’s intentions correctly. He sat back to enjoy the byplay until one of the them cracked and made him a higher offer than they had proposed so far.

Suddenly the door burst open, catching Baria unaware. The little man flew across the foyer to crash into an ornamental vase, shattering it and sending shards of pottery in all directions.

Allowing a small grin, Frollence assisted his fellow merchant up from the floor. "My