Court Wizard (Spellmonger Series: Book 8) (26 page)

“So they are your chief foe?”

“
Our
chief foe,” he corrected.  “Outside of general lawlessness, yes,” Sir Vemas agreed, not taking his eyes off of the front entrance to the white brick hall.  “You know, this is an
excellent
vantage point.  I can even nearly see into the upper window, there.”

“I can see right into that place, if I choose,” Pentandra smiled.  “It matters not where I stand.”

“That would be
quite
useful in this enterprise, then,” smiled the handsome constable in return. Pentandra could not help but feel a rush of excitement at his confident manner.

“Once we know what we’re up against, perhaps,” she agreed.  “But if you like the view, then this loft can serve at need.  With so many Kasari going in and out, and my position at court, it would not attract undue attention if there were guardsmen doing the same.”

“That would be helpful,” he agreed.  “As enthusiastic as I am about our new mission, I hesitate to conduct operations from the palace.  I know too well how easy it is for secrets to go awry there, and the Rat Crew is adept at buying such information.”

“Agreed,” Pentandra nodded.  “There’s a certain irony to plotting against the Rats across the street from the Head Rat.”

“I do enjoy irony,” Sir Vemas admitted.  “The men I’ve chosen for this task will be discreet,” he promised.  “They know how not to attract attention.  Further, they will provide some additional protection for you here.”

“By the time I’m done with the spellwork, they won’t be necessary,” she dismissed.

“That’s
also
helpful.”  He broke his stare at the white brick hall and looked at Pentandra.  “My lady, I’m concerned that this struggle will get bloody – more bloody than . . .”

“Than a high-born Remeran mage can handle?” Pentandra asked, amused.  “Sir Constable, I have been in sieges, battles, and fought against goblin, troll, and dragon.  I’ve seen more blood than you can possibly imagine.  Likely more than you.  It’s not something I relish, but I am not afraid of it, either.”

“Then I think we have the beginnings of a truly beautiful alliance, here, Lady Mage.  With your magic and my men, I think we can put the rats on the run!”

*

*

The Duke requested her presence the next morning by messenger, calling her to the small chamber he had claimed as his private office.  The young man looked exhausted, with uncustomary dark circles under his eyes, his tunic rumbled as if he’d slept in it.  He stood and welcomed her formally, escorting her to a chair and pouring her wine himself.

“I wanted to take a few moments to check in with you,” he admitted, when he’d drawn his own chair close to the brazier in the corner.  “I’m trying to do that with all of my ministers right now, to help smooth the transition.”

“I would think that would be Count Angrial’s job, Your Grace,” Pentandra pointed out.

“It will be, eventually,” he agreed with a sigh.  “In truth, he wants to do it himself but he is occupied with restructuring the palace staff at the moment.  And I wish to maintain more direct ties to my ministers than my predecessors, when so much hangs in the balance.  Besides, what
else
do I have to do?” he pointed out, sounding like a whiny adolescent, and not the head of state.  “Stand around and look regal?  That was my father’s style, not mine.”

“So what would Your Grace wish to know?” she asked, smiling at him.  She really did like the lad.

“How are you finding your new post . . . and your new mission?” he asked, simply.

“The accommodations are lackluster, the staff is non-existent, my duties are ill-defined and poorly described, and I have little idea how to proceed.  That is to say, I am quite comfortable in my post, and I look forward to the challenge of combating the gangs of Vorone.  At least I have more direction than I did when I was made Steward of the Arcane Orders.”

“Sir Vemas has told me that he has introduced himself and pledged resources and intelligence for the effort,” Anguin nodded, approvingly. “I recall him as a palace guardsman, when I was a boy.  A man of boundless energy and wit.  I have every confidence in his ability to pursue your mutual mission, and I trust him implicitly.”

“As do I, Your Grace,” agreed Pentandra.  “Only a man with more zeal than guile would approach me so boldly.  He escorted me to my new quarters in Northwood, which he has agreed to use as a headquarters for this endeavor.  My intuition tells me he is a gallant and committed gentleman, loyal to his duke and in love with his town.”

“Just so,” nodded the tired looking boy.  “I think you two will work well together.  But that is a temporary matter.  Beyond the issue of the gangs, I’d like to discuss your
greater
duties as Court Wizard.”

“My predecessor, Magelord Thinradel, was generally unhappy with the position,” Pentandra said, boldly.  “Largely because of your father’s antipathy toward magic in general.”

“I am not my father,” stated Anguin, flatly.  But he did not take offence.  Pentandra got the idea that the boy was trying to impress her.  “Thinradel and his predecessors were in office when a Court Wizard’s job was largely functioning as the administrative arm of the Censorate.  While some of those duties will remain, the situation we are presented with demands a more
active
role,” he said, diplomatically.  “Such as combating crime in the capital.  And functioning as a liaison to the magi – and magelords – of the realm.”

“Ah,” Pentandra said, realizing what the lad was getting at.  “You worry about Magelord Astyral?  And Azar?  And Wenek and the others?”

“The old order in the Wilderlands is gone,” Anguin sighed, looking into the fire.  “Once nineteen Wilderlord barons ruled in the name of the Duke, here, within five counties.  Now there are four or five of the old houses  left with their lands intact, all south of Vorone.  Two others hold but a shard of their previous lands.  Tudry is ruled by a mage, the strongest castle in the north is ruled by another, and other magi now control more land and fortifications than all of my non-magical vassals . . . we
think
.” He heaved a sigh.  “That’s why I’ve employed your lord husband so liberally, I’m afraid.  We just don’t know what the true disposition of the duchy is, and until we do, I have to contend with the power of the magelords.”

“Does that make Your Grace uneasy?” asked Pentandra, surprised.  “The magi have done what they could to retain your realm, and have not rebelled against your authority.  In truth they’ve just learned about your return, right after I informed the Spellmonger.” 

One of the things Pentandra had done in the first few days of the transition was to contact the important magi in the region and inform them that there was now a real Ducal authority in Vorone again. 

For Astyral, that was welcome news.  He’d been ruling Tudry as a military appointee, confirmed by Royal decree, but in the absence of any greater authority he had been on his own.  Carmella, the head of the Hesian Order of warmagi and headquartered at Salik Tower, among the others Minalan had built on the edges of the war zone, was likewise happy to hear the news.  She had come to know the duke during the great Kasari March, and had voiced her personal support of him. 

Azar and Baron Wenek of the Pearwoods were less enthusiastic.  Azar was only concerned with fighting the gurvani, and saw an advantage in the Duke’s return only if it assisted in that effort.  Wenek was ruling his hilly fief of half-wild, mostly-drunk clansmen almost independently from the rest of the world.  The stout magelord could be depended upon to rally his men to fight goblins, but other than that he let the Pearwoods clans continue raiding the lowland lords of northern Castal every summer, stealing brides, cattle, and what silver they could, and he was loathe to give up the lucrative practice.  But he had supported Anguin’s ascension for no better reason than it would annoy the Royal family, for whom he had a disdain.

There were others of lesser rank and power, but those four were the chief wizards in the Wilderlands at the moment.

“It is not that I doubt their loyalty,” the young duke frowned, “but that I wish to enlist their aid.  I cannot force the refugees from Vorone unless they have secure homes to go to . . . or at least a better future.  To do that we must first establish security, then provide service to them.  But the lands they lived in are either occupied, despoiled, or under threat.”

“The magi cannot restore them,” Pentandra said, confused about what Anguin wanted.

“Nor can they restore the hundreds of noble families to life who used to lead the Wilderlands in the name of my house.  Without good Wilderlords to protect the common folk, they will not leave come spring.  But those same magelords are now holding lands, successfully, on the ruins of the old order.”

“And you wish to replace them with your gentlemen courtiers?” Pentandra frowned.

“Ishi’s tits,
no!
” Anguin said, shocked.  “You misunderstand!  The magi are the only ones who have been
able
to hold, when all of the Wilderlords failed.”

“Then what, Your Grace?”

“I wish to expand their domains,” he explained with a sigh.  “I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I think that even brave Wilderlords and armored knights do not inspire the confidence that a wizard does, to the common folk these days.  Magelord Astyral is held in high esteem here, as is Magelord Azar.  When Magelord Thinradel came through town last year, he was hailed as a hero.”  That was a far cry from how the former Court Wizard had been seen during his own tenure.

“So you want
more
magelords?”

“I want more
warmagi
,” corrected Anguin, leaning back in his chair.  “
Good
warmagi, men and women who can take and hold a land, and protect the people.  I will be happy to raise their station if they can prove their worth.  I happen to have vacant lands aplenty, apparently, even in the south of the Wilderlands.  I will be giving many of those to the ‘gentlemen courtiers’ who have so bravely pledged their service to me.

“But north of Vorone there are few Wilderlords left.  And not much else.  But I would be willing to grant those lands to warmagi and magelords you recommend, and who can prove their value to the duchy.”

That was important news.  There was a general reluctance to make more magelords in Castal – already there was resistance to those who had been raised since the establishment of the kingdom. Minalan had to defend his lands, and Dunselen had used his powers to expand his, and even the relatively peaceful Lord of Robinwing had been the target of his neighbors’ wrath in Castal.

But Alshar was different.  Here the magelords weren’t interlopers on the established social order, they were essential elements of the nascent duchy’s functioning and security.  Anguin’s willingness to recognize that and actively recruit them to here was an impressive demonstration of his understanding.

“That . . . will be welcome news to many who have been idle since the Treaty,” she agreed, slowly.  “But will that not also attract Royal attention here, where we don’t really want it?”

“I don’t want you to proclaim it loudly at the next Convocation in Castabriel,” Anguin snorted.  “Rather, as Court Wizard I would like for you to make contact with worthy magi quietly. 
Discreetly
,” he emphasized.  “The estates I can offer them are in ruins or abandoned. Or entirely absent, and they will have to build them themselves.  But they will have freedom and authority, and
very
little interference from Vorone, if they can improve their estates and protect their people.”

“I can think of many who would welcome the chance.  But would not Minalan the Spellmonger be a better advocate in this plan?”

“Minalan the Spellmonger is a mighty ally, a wise counselor, and a friend,” sighed Anguin.  “But he is not
my
Court Wizard.  In fact, he is a vassal of my cousin’s, not mine.  I trust him, but I cannot hold him to account.  I would appreciate it if you could make this effort discreetly, without worrying the Spellmonger,” the duke said, diplomatically.

“I will . . . I will do my best, Your Grace,” Pentandra agreed.  Though she didn’t like the youth’s implicit threat, she realized he was not trying to be overbearing.  “When the snows clear, I can think of a dozen or so who would be willing to meet with you, I believe.”

“If you can fill my lands with magi, Lady Pentandra, enough to keep the gurvani in the west and north, then I might have a fighting chance to hold the lands south of Vorone.  And if you can secure the loyalty and fealty of those magelords, I will elevate them accordingly.”

“And this in addition to my mission to defeat crime in Vorone and my duties registering, administering exams, and enforcing magical regulation in the duchy?” she asked, wryly.

“To be fair, there isn’t much duchy left to be worried with,” he chuckled.  “And you forgot establishing and running the magic Mirror array in Vorone,” he reminded her.  “But I suppose those duties do fall to you, now, or will when things are stable enough for such mundanities.  Until then, I will have to rely upon you for more interesting tasks.  Before anything else, I must be able to rule this town, and right now I rule only as far as the palace wall.  When the Orphans depart, even that might be in doubt,” he said, discouraged.