The Archmage Unbound (14 page)

I returned home that evening. I felt a
bit bad about not staying to eat dinner with Marc but I wanted to tell Penny
the news. If things worked out as expected we would all be visiting Marc very
soon anyway.

She received the news with less
enthusiasm than I had expected, “He wants you to appear in the capital in two
weeks?”

There was nothing wrong with Penny’s
memory, but for some reason she loved repetition. “Yes, two weeks,” I said
again.

“And you think he’s really planning to
welcome you back into the fold?” she asked skeptically.

I sighed. “I made sure he knew the
consequences if his offer wasn’t genuine.”

“You mean you threatened his life,” she
said flatly.

“Essentially yes,” I replied.

She shifted topics, “How many people did
you kill reaching him?” The question annoyed me, and I really didn’t want to
answer it.

“Four,” I told her flatly.

She raised one eyebrow. “Was it worth
it?”

“They were channelers, working for the
gods… I had no other options,” I said.

“They were men, and you said you could
get to the king without being caught,” she reminded me.

Anger and guilt simmered close to the
surface now. “Would you rather we went to war again? I had to meet the king,
and I had to do it on my terms if we were to bring him around.”

She knew I was close to snapping and her
eyes softened. “I’m not blaming you Mordecai, but I can’t ignore this. As
your wife, your partner, I have to be sure you’re keeping your focus on what is
important. Stop being defensive and think clearly… was it worth it? Did we
gain something worth four lives or should we have tried something different? I
don’t expect you to be perfect… I just want to make sure you’re not forgetting
the people that suffer for our choices.”

Somewhere in the background of my mind I
noted that she used the pronouns ‘our’ and ‘we’ frequently. She was trying
very hard to keep me involved in the discussion rather than simply creating a
fight. I took a deep breath, “I do think that it was still worth it, though I
regret the necessity. Perhaps if I had used a better method I could have
avoided killing them, but I’m not sure…”

She stepped forward to put her arms
around me, “Don’t do that. Neither of us is perfect. I just want to know that
you’re keeping the costs in sight.”

“I haven’t forgotten the watchman, that
night in Albamarl, when we raided the royal warehouses,” I told her. “More
than any, his death still haunts me…,” I began.

“I’m sorry Mort,” she interrupted. “I
didn’t mean to make you think I don’t trust you. Let’s eat, this conversation
has turned entirely too morbid. What will Dorian and Rose think when they see
us downstairs?” She took me by the arm and pulled me toward the door.

“Well damnitt woman make up your mind!”
I exclaimed. “One minute you’re making me doubt myself… the next you’re trying
to cheer me up.” I gave her an expression that was equal parts pout and smirk.

We went downstairs, and by the time we
arrived both of us had replaced our glum expressions with the more positive
demeanor expected of the Count and Countess di’Cameron.

***

I spent the next week as productively as
possible. I actually managed to finish the first set of armor and brought
Dorian in to try it on. He tried to hide it, but the look on his face reminded
me of a kid who has gotten too much candy and is hoping no one will notice. It
took us a good quarter of an hour to get him buckled into it.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

Dorian didn’t answer immediately.
Instead he backed up a bit, moving his arms in circular motions, and then he
made a sharp lunge forward. He had a very positive expression. I couldn’t
help but laugh as he began doing warm up exercises.

“Are you going to talk to me or start
practicing your ball dances?” I teased him.

He gave me a boyish grin. “I might just
try dancing! How did you do this? It’s even lighter than the chainmail you
magicked for me!”

Though the armor didn’t fit me I had
already tried it myself… and I had designed the enchantments that produced the
effect he was describing. These enchantments were different however, and I was
curious about Dorian’s reaction. “This armor isn’t actually any lighter than
normal,” I informed him. “You complained that the lightness of the chainmail
made you feel like you were being tossed about so I didn’t alter the mass of
this armor.”

“Mass?” he asked without a hint of
guile.

I sighed… he never had really paid
attention to his tutors in the sciences. If it wasn’t military history he just
hadn’t been interested. “It’s what gives your armor weight, what makes it
heavy.”

“It doesn’t feel heavy, I might as well
be wearing nothing but my gambeson and a bit of leather for all the weight I
have on me,” he replied.

“It’s all still there, I’ve just
enchanted the armor to move
with
you… at least partly,” I explained. It
was actually an exceedingly complex enchantment. I had been working on it far
longer than I had the actual armor crafting. As usual it was the sort of
accomplishment that no one would ever really understand.

“How?” Dorian asked, though he regretted
the question almost immediately.

Excited to finally have someone to tell
I launched into a detailed explanation, “The armor stores energy from your
downward movements, rather like a spring… then the energy is released whenever
you move in a direction that works against gravity. The end result is that
while you still retain the inertia of eighty pounds of metal you don’t have to
exhaust yourself moving it around with just your muscles…”

“Mort!” he interrupted me with a pained
expression.

The look in his eyes told me I had gone
overboard again. I started over, “The armor uses magic to help you move. It’s
still as heavy as normal, but you don’t have to bear all the weight yourself.”

Dorian’s eyebrows went up, “That’s
perfect. I’m assuming it’s still as hard to pierce as the chainmail you did?”

I chuckled, “I don’t know what it would
take to cut through that. My guess is that if something powerful enough to
pierce the armor hit you, you wouldn’t care, the shock would kill you before
the armor failed.”

“What about one of your enchanted
blades?” he asked seriously.

I squinted involuntarily, “It would be
unlikely. The edge would have to strike perfectly and the blade would have to
be wielded with a strength beyond what a normal man could muster.”

“What if he was wearing magical armor
that moved with him?” Dorian said pointedly, flexing his arm.

I shook my head, “No the armor doesn’t
augment your strength. It merely assists you in moving it. It wouldn’t be
enough.”

He looked disappointed. You’d almost
think he was trying to figure out a way to kill himself. Finally he opened up,
“Well I think it’s wonderful, though I wonder if it’s really worth your time to
be making armor down here.”

“There’s only one of me Dorian, but I
need help. I need men that can fight the shiggreth on equal terms. Scratch
that… I need men that can cut the shiggreth into small pieces and send them
packing. I can only be in one place at a time… while the enemy is numerous.
The valley is large and there are several villages, it just isn’t possible
for…”

Dorian held a hand up to silence me. “I
understand Mort… I’m the one that told you originally remember? You have to
trust the people to be your strength.”

“Right!” I agreed. “But they need the
proper tools if they’re to be effective against the sort of enemies we’re
facing now.”

Dorian nodded, “You’re right, but you
can only make so many suits of armor like this. Even for you it takes too
long. How many do you plan to make and what will it accomplish?”

“Twenty or so… for a hand-picked group
of leaders and fighters… a new order of knights,” I told him. I was a bit
hesitant, until now I had kept my idea a secret, and the thought of saying it
aloud made it sound a bit like one of the stories I used to read. I feared
laughter.

I needn’t have worried though. Dorian’s
imagination was greater than mine and for all his wisdom he had a simplicity
that made such things very believable. His eyes lit with enthusiasm almost
before I could finish my sentence. “That’s brilliant!” Two words… that’s all
it took and I could see my dream written in his face.

“Well don’t get the wrong idea, they won’t
be a traditional military order. I’ll commission them as protectors, wardens
of the people…,” I said calmly. I was hoping to calm Dorian’s exuberance,
although I had to admit it was contagious. He had a habit of saying what
perhaps my inner child had been thinking all along.

“So you’ll send them out… patrolling the
land, guarding the citizens from undead monsters and bandits alike,” he
exclaimed.

“Well yes…”

“And they’ll pledge absolute loyalty to
you Mort… the defender of Lothion!” Dorian was pacing now and nothing I could
say would get through to him, his head was filled with visions of knights
errant and deeds of chivalry. I smiled to myself as I watched him. If I could
find nineteen other men like him, perhaps it wasn’t such a foolish dream after
all.

“Ideally they’d pledge fealty to the…,”
I started to say ‘king’ but I knew already that it was a bad idea. “Perhaps
they should swear to James of Lancaster,” I amended.

He stopped and glared at me, “Say
something like that again and I’ll wallop you!”

“You object to James?” I started.

“No, fool! I know you’re trying to be
modest and all, but it’s time to own up to what you’ve done. You defeated an
army of over thirty thousand men, saved the realm, and won the hearts of
thousands of people. Do you honestly think you could create some new order of
knights and just hand it over to someone else? Do you think people would be
inspired by that?” he said angrily.

“Alright, you’re right,” I said trying
to placate him. I knew there was no use in arguing once he got riled up like
that.

“Don’t agree with me and think I’ll shut
up! You always do that. I may not be a genius but I’m smart enough to spot
your patronizing ways. Listen up… the people need inspiration, just as much as
they need protection. We just fought off a massive attack; many of the people
lost loved ones. The first harvest was nearly a complete loss and you and I
aren’t the only ones who know that there’s a lot of damned undead wandering
around unaccounted for. This idea is brilliant and it’s just what they need,
something to hope for. Nothing inspires hope like a hero, and you’re planning
to give them twenty… but they need to be led by a hero, someone the people
know. Someone the people believe can do anything… in case you haven’t been
paying attention, that’s you Mort.” He poked me forcefully with his index
finger.

Sometimes Dorian could embarrass the
hell out of me, even when we were alone. I tried to change the subject,
“Actually Dorian you brought up something important. This new order will need
a captain… aside from whoever they answer to… and you made a lot of good
points. Naturally I want you to be that person.”

He blinked for a second, “Well I knew
that already, the real question is who else you want, you need nineteen other
men if you’re to have a force of twenty.”

I had done some thinking on that already
but it was a difficult subject. I had to be selective. I wanted men who had
already been tested in battle, veterans who were also trustworthy. There were
a number of capable warriors in my livery now but I had no way of judging the
integrity of many of them. Quite a few were ex-mercenaries with questionable
backgrounds. Finding killers was easy; finding men like Dorian was a daunting
task. So far I had only come up with two names. “Joe McDaniels and Harold
Simmons,” I said at last.

“Joe won’t do,” Dorian commented. “He’s
too old and he has a business to run. Much as I love the man I wouldn’t saddle
him with something like this in his later years. Harold might be a good choice
though, what made you choose him?”

“He’s young and bright eyed. You’ve
mentioned him several times in the past, regarding his skill with weapons.
He’s also a native son of Washbrook. He knows the people here and they’ll
trust him. More importantly he’ll care about them far better than one of our
transplants from the capital,” I explained.

Dorian nodded. “I like your thinking.
I may know one or two more that meet those criteria among our new guards. I’ll
work with them and let you know if I think they’ll work.”

“Perfect, I want you training them
anyway,” I added.

“I figured that, but you’ve omitted one
key piece of information here,” he told me.

I stared blankly at him, “What?”

“What are you going to name this new
order?”

“Oh…,” I said eloquently. I didn’t have
a single idea, and it didn’t take long for my vacuous gaze to communicate that
fact to him.