The Archmage Unbound (3 page)

“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.”

“The spell isn’t just so I can pick the
metal up without being burned,” I replied and then I began kneading the metal
with my fingers, as if it were a piece of very stiff clay. I had imbued my
hands with an unnatural degree of strength and hardness, for even as hot as it
was the iron would have been impossible to mold without using a hammer and
anvil. I shaped the metal into a rod by rolling it between my hands, reheating
it as necessary, and then I bent it into a circle, joining the ends with a
simple lap weld. It only took me a couple of minutes since I was able to shape
the metal quickly with my bare hands.

“Why did you set it in the forge if you
were just going to use magic to heat it?” Dorian asked.

“Habit… and I didn’t want to burn the
workbench or risk damaging the anvil,” I said as I twisted the hot metal into a
spiral.

Dorian watched the glowing orange iron
in my hands with fascinated eyes. “What is that supposed to be?”

“Nothing,” I replied, “I was just making
a point. Using magic I can shape metal almost like a potter shapes clay. It
makes a lot of things vastly easier when you don’t have to use a hammer and
tongs to do everything.”

“You always had clever hands,” Dorian
remarked, “but somehow I thought you’d be doing something more productive than
sitting around here creating new forms of art.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” I intoned solemnly,
“that’s what this
is
.” I gestured at the armor still quietly gleaming
on the worktable.

“Something like that would take one of
the king’s finest armorers half a year to make,” Dorian stated, yet his face
was full of doubt.

“I’m not going to try and convince you.
Hold still for a moment.” I walked past him and picked something up from the
table behind him.

Dorian’s head twisted to follow me.
“Wait a minute there Mort! Don’t be doing anything strange now!”

I laughed inwardly. Have I mentioned
that my friends trust me implicitly? “Relax! I’m not going to use any magic
on you.” I bent over and reached for his ankle but my fearless friend
sidestepped with an almost comical hop.

“What’s that?” he asked nervously.

“A tape-measure… hold very still or it
might strangle you,” I remarked sarcastically. Taking another step I began
measuring him carefully. After a moment he relaxed, although we did have an
awkward moment with the ‘inseam’ measurement. I won’t go into that though.

“I’m still patiently awaiting your full
explanation, are you planning to make another set of armor like that for me?”
Dorian asked. Although he hid it well I could almost hear the secret desire in
his voice. What warrior wouldn’t want a set of armor such as was lying there
on the bench in front of him?

“Not exactly,” I said mysteriously. I
knew the vague answer would drive him crazy but I couldn’t help but draw things
out. “I copied one of the sets we stole from the king when we liberated my
goods from his warehouse, but now that I’ve finished with it I think it could
be improved.”

“How so?”

“Well, to begin with the enchantments I
add give an exceptional amount of strength and integrity to the metal, so I
think I can redesign some of the joints and remove some of the extra pieces
they used to guard the underarms, the inside of the elbows et cetera.” I
pointed to the wings that flared out past the piece of metal that guarded the
elbow.

“You mean the couter?” Dorian asked,
pointing to the articulated metal joint. I guessed that must be its proper
name.

“Yes, the elbow and knee couters
particularly,” I answered excitedly. I was glad to finally know the actual
name for them.

“The ones at the knee are called
poleyns,” he chuckled as he corrected me. It wasn’t often Dorian got the upper
hand when it came to intellectual knowledge, but he knew the warrior’s craft
far better than I did. Of course he was raised to it. “You shouldn’t get rid
of the wings on them,” he added seriously.

“But they aren’t necessary,” I
insisted. “The chainmail in those places will be strong enough to prevent any
weapon from piercing the wearer there.”

Dorian sighed. “Mordecai, you are so
smart that sometimes I forget how ignorant you can be. Those wings aren’t to
prevent a cut or stab. What do you think a man wearing this sort of armor
fears most?” He paused to give me a chance to answer but I wasn’t playing his
game so I waited him out. Eventually he continued, “He fears the mace and the
axe. Those wings are to keep a crushing blow from destroying his knee or
elbow.”

“Oh…” I replied intelligently. “Does
the same thing apply here?” I pointed to the round disks that were mounted below
the pauldrons that protected the shoulders.

“Besagews,” Dorian supplied. “They’re
called besagews… and yes the same reasoning holds true there, they protect the
underarm.”

“You make do without them in your
current armor,” I argued.

“My chain hauberk protects me from cuts
and arrows; it does nothing to prevent broken bones. That’s the very reason
they started designing ‘this’ sort of armor,” he replied.

Dorian’s knowledge was clearly superior
to my own in this regard so I drew out my carefully done plans for the next set
of armor and showed them to him. I began showing him my proposed changes to
the design and after several hours he had talked me out of most of them. If my
father had still been alive he would have laughed and told me that I should
have consulted an expert in the beginning, but then I had always been one to
make mistakes first and
then
learn from them.

We grew so engrossed in our discussion
that the hours flew by and we were both late for dinner. As usual there never
seemed to be enough hours in the day. When we entered the great hall, the
conversation there dimmed for a moment as a hush fell over the assembled folk.
That had bothered me at first but I had begun to get used to it. Now I merely
nodded at everyone and made my way to my seat at the high table.

I stopped beside my chair and glanced at
the food already set before it on the table. I could almost feel Penelope’s
eyes burning a hole through me as I gave her an apologetic look. “My dear lady
wife,” I said loudly, making sure my voice was loud enough to carry, “I hope I
didn’t worry you.” I turned and addressed the room, “Please everyone… eat!” I
tried to make my tone amiable to reassure them. It seemed to work as the
conversations around the room started up and everyone relaxed and began eating
again. I had learned a lot watching how James Lancaster dealt with his people,
but inwardly I still felt awkward.

Penny leaned toward me after I had sat
down, “You’re getting better at that but it is still embarrassing when I have
to start without knowing when you’re going to show up.” Her voice was pitched
low enough that no one would overhear us and I could tell by her inflection
that she was only mildly annoyed.

“Sorry,” I said sincerely.

“Just send me a note if you’re going to
be late so I don’t have people standing around waiting for you before we just
decide to eat anyway,” she replied. Since taking on the mantle of lady of the
castle she had become markedly more demure and courteous… at least in public.
I let my eyes wander over her, taking in the modest dress she wore. It was
complemented by the sapphire earrings and necklace that she wore. Her attire
was tasteful without being extravagant and I could not help but admire her
beauty. Penny’s eyes met mine and she spoke again, “Stop staring… you’ll set
people to talking.”

I grinned at her, “Let them talk. I’m
married to the most beautiful woman in the world. It would be more unusual if
I didn’t stare now and then.” I didn’t bother to keep my voice low either.