This post is chapter forty-seven of my not-previously-published epic fantasy novel Broken Rule, which I'm serializing here on Steemit.
The story so far:
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46
Jonas hadn't known what to expect on his expedition to the mountains. The search had been tedious and frustrating, even though Joszua and his men did most of the work. Just as Jonas hod gotten used to that routine the men stumbled across signs of a military camp which they followed to some sort of excavation site. The stone fortification that had been built there seemed completely inexplicable. That none of the soldiers who had built it were anywhere to be found was a further surprise. Behind the wall, the ancient library in a pit in the earth was more surprising still, and the people they found inside were not what he expected at all.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Joszua asked the group gathered around a large bowl on the table.
The youngest man among them spoke in reply. “We are wizards. I am Walther Strassa, and my colleagues Arturo Boroni, Orso the Fleshmender, and I are at your service. We are here to investigate the strange and dangerous magics that have so recently been unleashed in Kubara. Now who are you, and why do you bring a gang of ruffians with you?”
Describing Joszua's soldiers as ruffians was uncharitable, but perhaps the man felt threatened since his own ruffians, a big man with an axe and a small wiry fellow, were now so clearly outnumbered. Then again, he had two powerful Torzani wizards with him, so perhaps it was arrogance rather than fear that motivated his words. Jonas had always made an effort to keep abreast of the more influential wizards in the world, and knew Arturo and Orso by reputation. He had never heard of this Walther Strassa before, but there must be some reason that the two most powerful wizards in Torzano deferred to him. Did he have some secret power?
Joszua, however, did not seem overly impressed. “I am Baron Joszua Chase, and these men are the royal guard of Tarkannan dispatched here directly by the Archduke. We are here to investigate the strange and dangerous magics, as you call them. And, now that we are here, we must also investigate the disappearance of a company of engineers who were stationed here. Have they suffered more strange and dangerous magics?”
“We don't know,” said Arturo. “That's what we were trying to discover with my spell. We found some blood, but whoever left it is still alive.”
“So you say,” Joszua answered. “I find it easier to believe that you killed them, and are now using their blood in some demonic rite. Have you anything to say in your own defense?”
“Baron, wait,” said Jonas. “We should discuss this like civilized men. Despite what you may have heard, demonology is actually quite rare among wizards.” Spirit magic was a different thing altogether, and Arturo was a master of it. Jonas wasn't sure if Arturo could employ it in an offensive manner if driven to anger, but he wasn't eager to find out.
“They've already confessed to using blood, Master Jonas,” said Joszua. “We know that Gavril's demon came from these mountains, and we've tracked the mad priest Marek to this very hall. That seems like more than enough evidence to me that this lot is mixed up in it.”
“If they were demon thralls, why would they confess about the blood? And furthermore, from what I heard, Marek and the demon were enemies, not allies.”
“Yes,” agreed Walther. “We know no demon, and this mad priest you speak of is a stranger as well.”
“Is Marek the one with the fire magic?” asked Arturo.
“Ah, so you do know him!” said Joszua. Walther turned and scowled at Arturo.
“Know him? No, but I had a vision of his spellcasting, conjured through my own magic. That is what started our investigation.”
“Baron,” suggested Jonas, “perhaps you should take your men outside and secure the fortifications. If these men are being honest then we have no idea what happened to the company that was stationed here. I would hate to be caught by surprise while we argue.”
Joszua snorted in disgust. “Fine, you have your civilized discussion with your new wizard friends. If you don't have answers in an hour, we'll use less civil means to get some.” He led his men back out the door.
With Joszua gone much of the tension left. “So,” Jonas offered, “what have you learned so far?”
“Not much,” said Arturo. “As I told you already, the man wasn't dead. The spell only works when the spirit crosses the veil of death.”
Jonas didn't reply, and Walther interpreted his silence. “I suspect he wants to know what we've learned from the books.”
Reminded of the treasure trove they had discovered, Arturo couldn't seem to contain his enthusiasm. “Can you see how many there are? And so old! Over a thousand years, easily.”
“We haven't had time to read in any depth,” added Walther. “But what I have read seems likely to fill in some substantial gaps in my training. I suspect that my master didn't teach me all that he knew, and even if he had it would be woefully inadequate compared to the wizards of old. I'm sure you see the opportunity here. Can you handle this Joszua Chase?”
There it was. The temptation that had been nagging at Jonas since he first entered the library, given voice. There was knowledge here. Power. True, he had managed to puzzle out quite a bit while teaching Rurik, but how much more was here, sitting on pages, just waiting for him to read them? How much more could he puzzle out, if he started from the same foundation as the ancient wizards rather than the scattered fragments handed down from his own master?
Still, it would be a violation of the First Law. He had skirted the edges of it before, usually following the letter if not the spirit, but books of magic were explicitly forbidden. Now that the line was so clearly drawn before him, would he step across? Would he cast his lot in with the wizards of old instead of the order established by Good King Nicholas? As he had seen in Kubara, books like these had been outlawed for a reason. If Jonas hadn't acted to stop him, how many would Marek have killed? And when it came to magic, Marek was a mere amateur. Jonas knew that he would use his own powers wisely, but there were three other wizards present, and he had no way of trusting them.
As these thoughts churned in Jonas's mind, Orso spoke. “Wait a moment, Walther. Are you implying that we should read these books? I thought we came here to destroy them.” Jonas should have realized that Orso would speak up in favor of the First Law. He had dispensed with a last name, refusing to inherit even that from his father. It was also well known that he lived the life of a beggar, living among the poor and destitute that he helped with his magic. Even his clothes, the one provision that First Law left for ownership by wizards, were ratty brown robes that had been mended and patched many times. It was admirable in a way, but threw everything into a sharper contrast. Should Jonas reduce himself to that? Should he serve penance for crimes committed by others, centuries ago?
“Destroy them?” said Walther. “Are you mad? A treasure like this, and you would throw it away?”
“He's right, Orso,” said Arturo. “Think about how many people you are unable to heal because you don't know the proper spells. Those spells might be in books in this very room.”
“You, too, Arturo?” said Orso, disgusted. “The First Law is our first duty as wizards. At least we can trust the gentleman with the sword waiting outside to enforce it, since we can't trust your honor.”
“Let him try to enforce it,” said Walther. “Normal men against three wizards? I don't fancy their odds.”
“You seem to be assuming that I am on your side,” said Jonas, uncomfortable that the discussion had moved so quickly. “That hasn't been determined.”
“And I may favor reading the books, but I'm no murderer,” added Arturo.
“Orso was the one who suggested that this would devolve to violence,” Walther protested. “This baron seems to defer to your judgment, Jonas. If we can work something out amongst ourselves, maybe we can all walk away from here happy.”
“Discuss what you will,” said Orso. “I'm going to talk to this baron myself, and tell him what you're plotting.” He rose and started to walk toward the door, but Walther waved his hand and Orso froze in place. Jonas took note of that. Kinetomancy could be quite powerful.
“What have you done to him?” asked Arturo.
“I have stopped his movement,” Walther explained. “I'll not allow him to take unilateral action while the three of us still have matters to discuss. I'll release him once we have decided how we wish to proceed.”
“You aren't filling me with confidence that I should trust you,” said Jonas. “If you'll turn on one of your own, who's to say what you'll do to me once you've mastered some of the spells in these books?”
“He's the one that's turning on the three of us. Your baron was ready to slit our throats already. He'll be even more eager if Orso tells him that we're conspiring against the First Law. And don't think that Orso would exclude you from his charges of conspiracy.”
“They behead criminals in Tarkannan rather than slit their throats, but I take your meaning,” said Jonas. How would Joszua react to Orso's charges? It was true that Jonas had shown that he was willing to use his considerable powers for the good of the kingdom. Would Joszua turn on him so quickly? He might. Benedek nearly had, and Joszua sometimes felt wrongs against Benedek more deeply than Benedek himself. Would blind luck pin his life on the trust of a man he had lied to?
And if Orso did level his charges, would they be false? Jonas hadn't decided that yet. The books. They were so close, their power nearly tangible. They were begging him to read, to learn. Without intending to, he was already rehearsing a conversation with Joszua in his mind. “The books cannot be destroyed so easily, my lord. The three of us will need to use our spells to unravel the magical wards and bindings before they can be burned. It will take us days.” Weeks. Months. How long would he need to satisfy his hunger for knowledge? How long would he be able to put off Joszua? How long could he trust Walther and Arturo to stick to any agreement they might reach? Should he trust them at all? Should he even consider this plan? He had bridled at the restrictions of the First Law before, but would his conscience truly allow him to unleash this kind of magic on the world again? His own power had been earned. He had always prided himself on that, felt that it set him apart from the noble houses who had power only through an accident of birth. Would he be so different, if he grew his own power through the accidental discovery of this ancient knowledge? Would he hate himself if he gave into the temptation? Would he hate himself if he didn't? Events were moving too quickly, and people were trying to force decisions before they were ripe. A desire to learn shouldn't force him to unite with these foreign wizards, but a desire to keep dangerous power out of untrustworthy hands shouldn't force him to destroy these books as Joszua would surely demand. He needed time to think, time to come up with solutions of his own.
Jonas's reverie was interrupted by Joszua's return. There was something different about him. He looked disheveled, as if he had been involved in some strenuous activity. And the men with him weren't the royal guards that Jonas remembered. Had they found the missing company of engineers? And what was that little thing hopping along beside him? Most Holy, was that a goblin?
Joszua drew his sword and said in a clear, steady voice, “Wizards, lie down on the ground and submit to your new queen. She would prefer to have the four of you undamaged, but she has given me permission to use force if I need to.”