Mageborn: The Archmage Unbound

Chapter 1

I walked carefully down the stone stairway leading to the lower parts of Lancaster. Although I had spent considerable time in the castle during my younger days I had never dared venture into these places before.

James Lancaster was well known as a fair and equitable lord; consequently the dungeon of Castle Lancaster had seen little use during his lifetime, aside from the occasional thief. Recently the war with Gododdin had changed things, but not as one might expect. There had been no prisoners in that war, I had seen to that. The memories of that war were still fresh and I frequently woke trembling at night, though I rarely remembered the dreams that disturbed my slumber.

Today I had come to remedy one of the problems that had been held over from that war. One of my allies, a man I had come to consider a friend, had turned against me near the end. It was no simple betrayal though, Cyhan had had his reasons. Considered from a different perspective it might be said that I had betrayed him, rather than the reverse. The warrior locked up here had acted according to his honor and the trust given to him by the King, a king who had already declared me an outlaw. In fact the more one looked at the situation the less Cyhan deserved the cell he was currently locked within.

None of these thoughts were new; I had mulled them over almost daily since the end of the battle outside Castle Cameron. I should have come sooner, but a thousand more urgent matters had kept me away and when I did have the rare free moment I procrastinated. This was not a conversation I looked forward to.

I stood now outside a heavy wooden door and with my mind I could sense the other man waiting within. He had heard me coming long before I reached the door, but that was no surprise. Being almost completely empty the dungeon was very quiet, and every sound seemed magnified. I had come alone though James had urged me to bring several guards with me. The last time I had faced Cyhan he had been hell bent on sending me to an early grave.

I had declined the offer of guards. I wanted to talk to him alone. Besides, if he did attempt violence I doubted guards would be much help. The veteran fighter was quite possibly the most skilled and dangerous warrior I had ever met. If I couldn’t stop him the guards would just be additional casualties. I would have brought someone like Dorian with me if I had thought it might come to that.

Taking a deep breath I removed the bar and with a thought and a word unlocked the door. I hadn’t brought the key, but locks were rarely an impediment for me anyway. The smell within was anything but pleasant. The man I had come to see was sitting at the far side of the room and he watched me intently as I stepped into the room but made no move to rise.

I looked him over carefully. Cyhan appeared ragged but in good health. James had made sure he was provided with clean water and decent food. His hair was unkempt but I could tell he had been doing his best to wash himself occasionally. A man such as Cyhan wouldn’t let himself fall into despair. You look like shit, I told him casually. Normally I like to start conversations with a compliment, but none had come to mind.

His face crinkled for a moment, an expression almost like humor passing quietly over his features, but it was gone before I could be sure. He declined to respond.

I am here to settle things between us, I added.

You must have set a date then, Cyhan ventured.

I almost asked him ‘for what’ before I realized he meant for his execution. I don’t plan to execute you, I replied.

Then you’re a fool.

I wonder that you never became a councilor to the king, your charm is wasted as a warrior, I answered sarcastically. I came to offer you some choices.

Forget it. I have done as I swore to do. My choices were my own, and unlike some I have kept my oaths. His gaze was piercing as he said this. It was a deliberate attempt to goad me into anger.

The last time you used that one on me I lost my temper. Don’t waste your time with that tactic, I said. Actually the last time he had called my mother a ‘failure’ and I had tried to attack him. Too many things had happened over the past few months for me to lose my cool over petty insults.

At least you’re learning, he responded. Still, I will not change my stance. Your only choice is to kill me.

"I will decide what my choices are, I said calmly, and you will listen to what I have to say before you make your own choice."

He didn’t waste words by bothering to answer. Instead he stood up, a slow careful motion that carried a subtle hint of menace. I watched him intently but continued talking, The king sent me a message the other day. I could see that I had the older warrior’s attention and his body language conveyed a sense of interest.

And? he asked.

He wants to meet… secretly. He didn’t state his reasons, but I expect he wants to find a way out of our awkward political situation, I elaborated.

He wants you dead. Your victory here created as many problems for him as it solved, Cyhan replied.

I didn’t think you still cared. My remark was sarcastic but my intuition told me that it might not fall far from the truth.

I think you will be the undoing of mankind and I swore to put an end to you if the bond were broken. He paused for a moment before adding, Still, if things were otherwise I would gladly call you ‘friend’.

I almost choked. That was as close to an emotional confession as I had ever witnessed coming from the stalwart trainer. I covered my shock with a short laugh. You never fail to surprise me. Honestly, I’m starting to think you’d try to kill your own mother if she were in my position.

He gave me an even stare that answered the question better than any amount of words could have done. As unsettling as that thought was, at least he was consistent. I went on, Do you honestly think I’m still going mad? It has been over a month since the bond was broken.

How would I know? Madness can take many forms. Are you still hearing the voices? he asked. I could hear an honest curiosity in his voice.

Certainly… I hear them constantly now. I’ve become quite used to it. It isn’t nearly so unsettling once you realize what the voices represent, I said calmly. In truth I could hear the deep thrumming of the earth below us even now, and the air brought a quiet murmur I had come to associate with the wind. The world itself was alive, and I could hear it whispering softly to me with a thousand voices. Now that I understood what I was hearing it wasn’t nearly as frightening as it had initially seemed.

A shadow passed over Cyhan’s face as I spoke and he turned away. Tell me… what do they represent? His voice was even but my senses easily picked up the growing tension in his body.

The world is alive and those who have the right sort of ears can hear it speaking. That’s all, I said.

You say that and still expect me to believe you are not mad?

The wizards before the sundering didn’t have the bond. Some of them could hear the voice of the earth… and they could call upon it for aid. Moira Centyr didn’t defeat Balinthor with mere wizardry, I answered.

Lies! Did some dark spirit whisper these things to you, to convince you your madness was power? Cyhan turned to glare at me and his face was lit with anger.

No. I read them, in a book of history written not long after the sundering itself. My father’s house has an extensive library well protected from revisionist priests and politicians.

What is that supposed to mean?

Exactly what it sounds like… whether you choose to believe it… or not, is entirely up to you, I said calmly.

I couldn’t possibly believe that, he said.

Of course you can’t. In order to accept that you would have to face the possibility that much of what you were taught is a lie, that the very truths that you based your oath upon, that you have lived your life for… were false.

You’re wasting your time, the older man growled under his breath.

Answer one question for me. If you believed me… if most of what you had been taught was shown to be false… what would you do then? I asked.

Cyhan paused for a moment and I could see him giving it serious thought. Something approaching sadness settled in his eyes for a moment before he answered, I would fulfill my oath.

What folly! What meaning does honor have if it does not serve reason? I exclaimed.

His face was deadly serious when he replied, Honor is all I have and it means nothing if I could change my oaths at a whim.

It is worse than nothing if it doesn’t answer to a man’s conscience! I spat out. For all my reserve the resolute warrior in front of me had finally managed to rouse my ire. Not that my anger had any discernible effect. I can’t believe I thought you might possibly listen to reason. Turning away from him I stepped back into the corridor. Come on, I said, gesturing for him to follow, it’s time for you to leave.

He stepped out into the hallway behind me. You really are a fool, he muttered.

I didn’t bother to look back at him, Don’t push your luck. With my extra senses I could see him looking around as he followed me up and out of the dungeon; even now he was looking for opportunities… whether they were for escape or murder I didn’t want to know. I led him through the castle halls and eventually we emerged into the sunlight of the castle yard.

Where are we going? he asked.

The stables, I replied, not bothering to explain further. A few minutes later we reached the stable and I told the groom to fetch my horse. I had ridden to Lancaster that day, rather than use the teleport circle.

Cyhan raised an eyebrow as I handed him the reins, What sort of game is this? he asked. I could almost hear the unspoken ‘boy’ at the end of his sentence. At some point during the war with Gododdin he had stopped adding that to his sentences when he spoke to me, but some habits are hard to break.

The king wants me to meet him at a small village named ‘Tilbrook’ in two weeks’ time, I said. I need to send him a reply and I’m short on messengers. I figure returning you to his majesty’s service will serve that purpose and get you out of my hair.

You want me to tell him you’ll be there to put your head in the noose?

I don’t intend to go. Tell his majesty I will meet him in his chambers within a day or two of your arrival, I said.

I doubt that he’ll welcome that message. If you intend to sneak into the royal palace it might be wise not to warn him you’re coming, he suggested.

For a man that wants me dead you’re remarkably full of advice, I responded. By warning him in advance I’ll be able to give him three messages at once. The first being that I can come and go at will, whether he is forewarned or not, and second that I am a civilized man… otherwise we would already be looking for a new king. I stopped there.

What is the third message?

I smiled. That’s for the king’s ears alone; otherwise there’d be no purpose for our private chat.

Cyhan mounted the horse and looked down at me. I could see a dozen possible responses flickering across his features, but in the end he left with a simple statement, I regret our next meeting Mordecai. The calm confidence in those words sent a chill down my spine but I shrugged it off. I hadn’t come this far by giving in to fear. I watched him ride for long minutes with my eyes and I continued to follow his progress with my arcane senses even after the trees had obscured him from view.

Since Penny and I had broken the bond my ‘magesight’ had returned to its previous acuity. If I focused my attention I could sense things slightly more than a mile away. If I was following a particular person or thing I could stretch that limit even further, to something approaching a mile and a half. As far as I could tell, that was the limit of my ‘wizardly’ senses, but I was beginning to learn that there were other ways to experience the world.

Cyhan and the horse I had given him were passing beyond my normal limit now, and still they seemed to be headed in the proper direction, south, toward the capital. I decided to test my newer abilities and took a deep breath, stilling my mind and listening quietly to the voices that surrounded me. As usual the first sensation was one of confusion, much like walking into a crowded room filled with a hundred different conversations. The key was to relax and listen, till you could locate the sound of a familiar voice and begin to make sense of their conversation. This time I had a particular voice in mind and I focused on the susurrations of the wind. Over the past month I had discovered that the wind is a capricious and chaotic entity, at times soft and gentle it could turn wild with little notice. I felt my mind expanding as I followed its random eddies and currents until I was swept out into an ever larger sky filled with scattered clouds and warm sunshine. As my world expanded I struggled to keep part of my attention upon the terrain near Lancaster, and one particular rider on a road not too far from the castle.

He was still heading south, though I wasn’t sure why I cared anymore. For some reason I had yet to comprehend, the wider I spread my awareness the less I cared about the particulars. The real skill lay in balancing the knowledge of the carefree wind against the well-defined questions of my all too limited human mind. If I opened myself too much I would forget my reasons for looking and be swept away in daydreams of swaying trees and rushing clouds, not enough and I wouldn’t be able to find the information I wanted.

I stood there, transfixed for what may have been an hour, or a full day… time no longer seemed relevant. I had watched the tiny rider and his mount pass beyond the border of Lancaster but they no longer interested me. What really fascinated me now were the great currents of air that drove the clouds to the south and east. I could feel myself spreading ever further as the sun poured through me, illuminating the earth below and casting dappled shadows from the clouds upon the ground…

Mordecai! Someone was shouting into my ear again. The voice seemed familiar. I blinked, which was a strange sensation for I couldn’t recall having something periodically blocking my vision like this before. Something stood before me, a strange creature with soft filaments of reddish gold streaming around it… what was that called again? Hair I think, that’s what I used to call it, I thought to myself. She was also waving her appendages at me… She? What does that mean? I wondered.

At last my fragmented thoughts began to come together and I realized that Ariadne Lancaster was standing in front of me, waving her hands in my face to get my attention. Mordecai! Can you hear me? Look at me! she said, sounding alarmed. Things snapped into focus at last, and my eyes locked onto hers.

Ariadne? I said stupidly. What’s wrong? Ariadne was my best friend Marcus Lancaster’s younger sister. Although she was a few years younger than us she had developed into a stunning beauty, much like her mother. Red gold hair framed a pixie’s face that was currently marred by a look of concern.

I should be the one asking that question, she replied. You’ve been standing in the yard out here all afternoon. I came out to talk to you earlier but you seemed entranced so I left you alone.

All afternoon… I mumbled. I was still having a little trouble getting my mind wrapped around the meaning of the words.

Yes, all afternoon. When I came back to check on you just now I got a bit worried, you were sort of transparent and you looked as though you might start to float away. I started yelling to get your attention and I tried to grab your shoulder but I couldn’t get a hold on you. My hand went right through you. She paused and slapped my arm. You seem perfectly solid now though. What were you doing?

I’m not sure, I said idly. I was monitoring Cyhan’s progress out of Lancaster… I think.

You’re not sure? It took me several minutes just to get your attention; you were looking straight through me as though I wasn’t even there. Were you able to tell if he went the right direction? she asked. The wind had died down and her hair was lying calmly across her shoulders now.

I’m sure of that. He went south, heading toward Albamarl. If he’s planning to double back he went an awfully long way before changing directions. A stray thought passed through my mind, her hair looked better with the wind in it. A sudden playful gust picked a lock of hair up and tossed it about. Did I do that? I wondered but I couldn’t be sure. I hadn’t used my power; the wind seemed to move of its own accord.

Focus, Mordecai. Ariadne snapped her fingers in front of my face. Your eyes were drifting away again. Am I going to have to talk to Penny about you?

No I’m fine, I lied. I’m just trying to get used to some of my abilities. In truth I really wasn’t certain. What did you want to talk to me about… before I frightened you? I forcefully drew my mind in on itself and began walking toward the main keep.

Ariadne kept pace with me as she responded, I wanted to ask you about Marcus. How has he been?

Her brother hadn’t returned to Lancaster after the end of our battle with Gododdin’s army. His goddess had refused to heal Penny when she was mortally wounded, ostensibly because Penny and I had broken the bond that shielded my mind. That refusal had led Marc to reject her and the resulting void within him had left him despondent and a bit lost. He had been staying with me at Castle Cameron since then but I hadn’t been able to draw him out much. Naturally his parents and siblings were worried about him.

He’s about the same, I replied. I convinced him to have a few drinks with me and Dorian the other day but he wasn’t very jovial.

Her brows pinched together in an expression of concern. I wish he would come home for a while. Maybe I could talk some sense into him.

I sincerely doubted having his younger sister nagging at him would help, but I didn’t dare tell her that, instead I used my considerable powers of misdirection to rephrase my thoughts. I don’t think having your father lecturing him would help much right now. I do seem to be gaining some wisdom as time goes on.

You’re probably right, she agreed. Will you be staying for dinner or returning home right away?

I honestly hadn’t given it much thought. My focus had been entirely on how to handle Cyhan when I rode out that morning. I was pretty sure Penelope expected me home for dinner that evening though. I hadn’t planned on staying this late actually. But if you like we could have dinner here tomorrow evening. I’m sure Dorian would like an excuse to visit his mother as well. Dorian was living with us in Washbrook now, serving as my seneschal and master at arms.

Is Rose still staying with you? If so you should extend the invitation to her as well, Ariadne added, giving me an impish grin. She seemed to like Rose Hightower; she had looked up to her as a young girl. I suspected she had some ulterior motive though. I didn’t doubt that she was plotting to fix Rose and Dorian up together. Penny had similar ideas though I wasn’t sure I approved of their meddling, as far as I could tell the two of them would be just fine if everyone left them alone.

I wouldn’t dream of leaving her out, I answered politely. Our steps had brought us to the building James had had constructed to hold the teleportation circles I created in Lancaster. I will have to say good-bye, I need to return. I didn’t expect to spend so much time standing in the courtyard.

Give Penelope my regards. I do hope you can both visit for dinner tomorrow, she replied.

I can’t imagine anything that would keep us from the invitation, I said with a smile, and then with a thought and a word I teleported back to Castle Cameron.

Chapter 2

The hall was empty when I stepped out of the alcove in Castle Cameron. I felt a bit relieved actually. Lately I had been besieged by various people needing me to make decisions about this and that. The castle itself had survived our recent war with little damage, aside from the one wall that was breached. Repairs there were proceeding rapidly and soon enough I would have the workmen starting on a new outer wall to encircle the rest of the rapidly growing town of Washbrook.

With some luck I might be able to reach my workshop without encountering anyone needing me to make pressing decisions. I had taken over my father’s smithy and expanded it to suit my needs. I doubted I would ever become a master smith as he had been, but I did frequently work with metal and the forge was quite handy when I needed it. There might have been a few sentimental reasons as well, but I tried not to dwell on those.

I waved at Cecil Draper as I left the main door of the keep and headed across the yard. My luck didn’t hold though, Cecil left his post and ran up to me before I could get ten steps toward the smithy. My lord! Sir Dorian asked me to let you know he was looking for you.

I stopped and gave him a gracious smile, And where would my friend be presently? I really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Dorian just then but I always tried to be polite in dealing with the people who supported, and were dependent, upon me.

He said he would be at the tavern my lord, Cecil replied quickly. I nodded and changed direction. The tavern he was referring to was operated and maintained by Joe McDaniel, a good friend of Dorian’s and also the head of our town militia now. After things had quieted down I had given him the house Penny and I had lived in (before the castle was completed) and he had made great strides in having it remodeled into a serviceable tavern.

I spotted the large wooden sign soon enough, gaily painted with a large pig covered in mud. The artistic rendering had been inspired by my first meeting with the Baron of Arundel, on which occasion I had slathered myself with mud to better make a good impression. Taverns traditionally had simple names that could be depicted with pictures since many people couldn’t read. This one had the words, ‘The Muddy Pig’ written carefully under the picture. It was a bit embarrassing that they had chosen my meeting with Arundel to use for the name of the tavern but hopefully people would soon forget the meaning behind the name.

I stepped through the doorway and let my eyes adjust to the somewhat dimmer interior; it was twilight outside and the lamps inside hadn’t been lit yet. The evening crowd had barely begun to gather so I didn’t have too much trouble spotting Dorian sitting at the end of the bar. Ho, Dorian! I shouted to catch his attention. Cecil said you were looking for me?

My large friend’s head turned as he heard my voice and his eyes lit upon me. Mort! Glad you’re back. How did it go?

Naturally he was referring to my visit with Cyhan. I let him go and he told me I was a fool, I said, summing up my previous conversation for him.

Dorian snorted, You are, and a stubborn one at that. I still think it’s a mistake.

Only time will tell my friend, surely you didn’t want me just so you could nag about a mistake already made? I hid my impatience poorly.

In a hurry to get back to work again? Sit down, you can spare a few minutes. Have a drink. He waved at Joe who had been listening intently and the older man went to draw a tankard for me. It’s about Marc, he added.

Ariadne was asking about him as well, I told him.

She’s right to be worried, he isn’t getting any better.

He’s just depressed. He’ll snap out of it eventually. He seemed alright when we were together the other night, I said.

That’s the only time, when he’s with us, and drunk… we can’t do that every day, Dorian answered. It was odd to hear him urging sobriety, since reaching his majority Dorian had shown a great fondness for drinking.

Where is he today? I notice you’re sitting here alone, I remarked pointedly.

Joe asked me to come by this morning and take him back to his room. He passed out a little before noon, he replied.

Point taken, I said, grimacing. He hasn’t done that before has he?

Dorian sighed, It hardly matters. It’s almost random, he starts drinking whenever he wakes up, and usually that’s in the afternoon. You’d know this if you paid more attention. I could hear a tone of rebuke in his voice.

Look I’m sorry Dorian, I’ve just been busy. There’s so much to do…, I told him, hoping he would understand.

Yeah I know. There always is, but you have to make some time for your friends. What have you been working on anyway? Every free minute you have, you sneak off to the smithy.

I was glad he had turned the conversation to a more positive topic. Actually I was thinking of having you come over and look at it. I could use a second opinion, I answered smiling. Of everyone living in the area Dorian was the first I wanted to see this new project. I took a long draught, trying to finish my beer quickly. Now would be an excellent time, you should come see, I said rising to my feet.

Always in a hurry aren’t you? Dorian took a long breath and then finished his mug. Alright, let’s see what monstrosity you’ve cooked up this time! He rose and followed me to the door.

When we finally reached the smithy I spent a moment and a word to light the work area. I had installed several enchanted globes around the perimeter of the room for lighting. I could have made do by conjuring light myself each time but I had been experimenting again. These simple glass globes could be lit by anyone, provided that they knew the proper command word. I had initially created them with Penny in mind, but now that they were finished I was considering making more for our rooms in the castle. They might be useful for lighting the streets of Washbrook too, but I doubted I’d have time to start mass producing them.

Those are really nice! Dorian said looking at the enchanted glass.

No not the lights… I made those weeks ago, I told him. "This is something I think you will really appreciate. I moved over to one of the long workbenches set along the wall. The top of it was covered with a large canvas drop cloth, concealing what lay beneath it. Dorian looked over my shoulder curiously. You remember how I enchanted your armor?" I said reminding him.

Of course, the damn stuff still hasn’t started rusting, he remarked.

This is like that… only better. I drew the cloth back, revealing a beautiful set of armor. Unlike most of the armor currently in the keep this was actual plate armor, crafted from carefully shaped and articulated steel plates. Armor of this type was still extremely rare in Lothion, and usually reserved for the very wealthy. Technically I was currently one of the wealthiest nobles in Lothion, but given my outlaw status I really had no way to spend my money, or even access it, since most of it was still in the Royal Bank. But I hadn’t bought this armor; I had carefully crafted it over a period of two weeks.

Holy… Mort where did you get this?! Dorian exclaimed. I found myself pleased with his shock and surprise.

I made it, I said modestly.

Seriously… where did you get it? he repeated. Even as he implied that I had lied about the source he ran his hands over the greaves, marveling at the lovely maroon lacquer that had been applied there. The breastplate and vambraces were similarly adorned with matching patterns, highlighted by gilding around the edges and a golden hawk in the center of the breastplate.

I made it Dorian. Look at the colors and the design, I replied.

Recognition lit his face as he realized that the colors and design matched the Cameron arms. It looks like your livery! How? You couldn’t have bought this.

I was beginning to get exasperated with his continuing disbelief, One more time… I made it.

Even your father couldn’t have made something like this! he exclaimed. A look of embarrassment crossed his face as he realized what he had said. My father had died a few months prior, right before our battle with the army of Gododdin.

I gave him an even stare, If he’d ever put his mind to armor crafting I don’t doubt but that he could have done so.

Sorry Mort, I wasn’t thinking. I just meant… well your father was much more skilled with metal and he never produced anything like this. How did you? Dorian’s hands were still examining the armor.

I didn’t have the heart to get angry. Dorian and I had been friends most of our lives, and I wasn’t the only one to have lost his father. Instead I took up a small piece of scrap metal. I have a lot of advantages my father didn’t have. I set the metal in the cold ashes of the forge and heated it with a word and my power. Within a minute it was glowing brightly, close to the melting point.

Normally I use the forge for heating the metal, but since it isn’t lit at the moment it would take too long to show you, I continued. Na’Pyrren Ingak mai Lathos, I intoned softly, blowing on my palms, and then I reached into the forge and pulled out the fiercely glowing piece of metal… with my bare hands.

Dorian flinched visibly when he saw me touch the metal with my naked skin, but he kept his tongue. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that he was getting more used to casual displays of magic. Is that really necessary? he asked. There are plenty of tongs for that here.