Enchanter (Book 7) (4 page)

“I’ll think about it,” I agreed.  “Perhaps there’s a magical solution.”

We continued through the market square, which was crowded with locals who had used their traditional spaces and booths to sell what delicacies and dainties they thought the influx of travelers might enjoy.  “How is attendance looking, so far?”

“We’ve already taken more attendance oaths than last year,” he preened, “and the fair isn’t even open yet.  A lot of warmagi are taking advantage of the break in fighting to visit and spend their coin.  That’s giving us a lot of newcomers.  And the Wenshari are finally paying attention to this fine festival, nearly on their doorstep.  Two large caravans from Wenshar pulled in last night.”

“And the contests?”

“Well, there’s the Dragonslayer’s Tournament,” he pointed out, referring to the event that Sire Cei, my castellan, was sponsoring at the fair this year in celebration of his anniversary to his wife, Lady Estret. “That has drawn many locals who otherwise wouldn’t be visiting the fair.  It’s also provided a lot of new customers,” he said, as two petty noblewomen strode by, mesmerized by the twigs enchanted with magelights that were being sold for two pennies each.  “Many have been intrigued how we do things in Sevendor. But the pageantry is certainly traditional enough.”

It was helpful for Cei - his tiny domain of Cargwynen was too small to host a proper tournament, and it was a strong social expectation for Riverlands knights to sponsor one for him to fail to do so.  But Cei didn’t want to make too much of it, either. He was well-aware of his status as a social outsider to the Riverlands chivalry.  If he tried too grand an event, he would be seen as too bold.  He had therefore limited participation to squires and commoners only.   He had also given a well-trained charger for the top prize, a magnificent award for such a small list.

“Then there are the lectures,” Banamor continued.  “The Arcane Orders have taken the opportunity to conduct a few discussions at the chapterhouse on select topics.  Academic magic,” he scowled, shaking his head.  “Bunch of pompous arseholes, if you ask me.  Of course, their coin spends as well as any and their tastes are more expensive than most.”

“Is there a theme?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Enchantment, actually,” he admitted.  “One of the more useful arts, I grant you.  Making the mundane magical has always been an interest of mine.  But in general . . .”

“You’ve never had to sit through a Thaumaturgy lecture,” I dismissed.  “You don’t have a proper basis to hate academic magic.  What else is planned?”

“Well, when the Guild of Enchanters heard about the Arcane Orders’ plans, they couldn’t let them get away with it, could they?  So they’re holding some classes on elementary enchantment, too, with a focus on using snowstone.  Since we get a piece of that, I didn’t put up a fuss, even if the local chapter head of the Arcane Orders wasn’t too happy with the competition.”

Technically the Arcane Orders were the “official” voice of magic in the kingdom, but I hadn’t discouraged a band of itinerant footwizards and spellmongers from renting a lot from Jurlor on the north end of town - right next to the Arcane Order’s magnificent chapterhouse and the Remeran-styled spire of the Order of the Secret Tower’s mansion (Penny’s unofficial residence while she was in Sevendor - she found castles “quaint.”)  Their initial membership had pooled their paltry resources and constructed a ramshackle hall on the land, one unencumbered by any kind of unity of design, materials, or purpose.

The independent enchanters skulked around the periphery of magic in Sevendor, occasionally causing trouble, occasionally being helpful.  There were always a dozen or so of these low magi looking for a quick bit of coin to further their research or just eat another day. The more established orders looked down upon them, but the Enchanters Guild had a lot of low-weight talent.  If you needed a mage for a dirty job, that’s where you looked.  Many of them habituated a tavern called the
Spark and Scroll
a street over, the name of which was the grandest thing about the cottage turned taproom.    

Banamor supported them for his own reasons.  While he was now a man of means who owned half of the town and was mayor of all of it, all too recently he was a footwizard himself. He had some pride in how well some of his former colleagues had done in Sevendor.  He certainly didn’t mind giving the Arcane Orders the competition.  

“Enchantment is a great subject,” he continued as we crossed over the bridge to the fairgrounds proper, along with a throng of other folk who were trying to get set up for the event.  “We’re making a lot of money with enchantments these days.  The Mirror business is booming - I can’t keep them in stock.  Heatstones, charms and amulets, magelights . . . and of course, your latest improvement,” he said knowingly.

“Mine?  What improvement?  I didn’t approve any improvements!” I mocked.

“The brick wands,” he said, conspiratorially.  “The ones you used on the march?  Brilliant! I made a dozen of them for a client in Sendaria.”  

The wands to which he referred were simple, really, a solid application of magical force to a practical problem.  They could transform any old rock into a rough brick shape, on command.  It took some power to enchant, but once it was done it was pretty self-sustaining, if you used snowstone in the components and powered it adequately.  All the waste from the sides, bottom and top of your new solid rock brick was useable rubble.  A mage with a brick wand could do in five minutes what it took a master mason hours to do.

“Really?” I asked, surprised.  “I didn’t expect there would be that much interest.  It was mostly to save time in the field.”

“What saves time in the field saves money in the purse,” Banamor said, with the authority of scripture.  “Why do you think castles are so expensive?  This reduces the need for expensive skilled labor.  One of those wands saves hundreds of ounces of silver, in the long run.  Even at the price I charged.  I’m starting an entire new line of construction enchantment, after the Fair.  But back to the entertainment,” he said, as we walked past the wary-eyed fairwardens who were ensuring only those with legitimate business entered the grounds.  Each one carried the traditional staff, but I also knew those staves had some useful spells on them, too, if things got rough.

“Of course there’s the Spellmonger’s Trial,” he grinned.  “That’s the biggest draw of them all.  And the Champion’s Feast afterwards.  But I’ve hired no less than six troupes of jongleurs to keep the mood festive during the day.  And at night, many of the local ladies have begun to offer more . . . traditional entertainments,” he chuckled.  

That was an unfortunate side-effect of holding a fair.  Lonely men on the road, far from home, were more than willing to spend some of their profits on companionship.  Sevendor had little in the way of professional whores, but around fair time we saw a steady increase in talented amateurs seeking temporary riches.  

It wasn’t all just the lower class of woman from Brestal or Gurisham, either.  Bovali girls, town girls and even a few older married women who were willing to lay aside their vows for a few days in return for coin to help get through winter made themselves up festively once the sun went down.  Then they invaded the inns, taverns, and fairgrounds looking for opportunities.  And there were plenty to be had.

It wasn’t really the kind of element I wanted to encourage in Sevendor, but then again I knew that you couldn’t successfully dictate human nature, either.  I had been in the army.  Some things are as natural as falling leaves, even if the consequences can be as disastrous as a forest fire. I wasn’t going to forbid the practice.  There were plenty of pretty villein women from poor Gurisham Village who saw this as a way to help their families, or even find a husband.  As long as no one got hurt, I didn’t see any reason to intervene.

Besides, not all of them were whores.  There were plenty of girls who just wanted to dance, meet exotic magi from far-away lands, and enjoy themselves.  If that led to a tryst, who was I to second-guess Ishi’s blessings?

“But the big news is what we’re doing at the Arcane Orders’ fete, the night before the Trial,” he grinned.  “That’s Pentandra’s fete, in honor of her wedding.  Planus is paying for it all, courtesy of our Remeran friends.  I’m looking forward to that.  They do have such exquisite tastes in dancing girls.”

“That will be interesting,” I said, unconvincingly.  I had a history with Remeran parties. But Penny’s fete I could not miss.

““Among the entertainments, there is of course the Warmagic Challenge,” he continued as we walked through the fairgrounds.  “Nonlethal, as instructed, but it will use blunted mageblades and only a pre-approved list of spells. And of course, two classes, for High warmagi and regular.  Though we have yet establish the prize . . .”

“A special mageblade, commissioned by Master Cormoran and enchanted by me,” I answered.  “I’ve already arranged it.  He has several new ideas about the subject, and wanted a way to test them.  I figured a prize would be the easiest way to avoid a customer being unhappy.  Enchanted blades are so touchy,” I said, shaking my head.

“I wouldn’t know,” Banamor said.  He was not a warmage, and he had a mageblade only because I gave him one.  He was a businessman, not a warrior.  “But the spectacle should be attractive enough. Last year’s crowds were huge.  And we’ve opened the contest to any warmage.  I’m hoping it will be entertaining.”

“As will the Spellmonger’s Trial.  I’ve added some obstacles inspired by the Great March.  It will be quite a challenge.”

“With a witchstone as prize there’s little that could deter this crowd,” he chuckled.  “Since they stopped distributing them to warmagi, there are very few ways for a common mage to come by one.  Unless he wants to make a deal with Sheruel.”  

That was supposed to be funny, but I’d run across one of the renegades who had thought that serving the undead goblin who was warring on humanity would be the “easy” way to power.  I had stolen her stone, defeated her on the field, and humiliated her by destroying her keep and freeing her slaves.  I was hoping the renegade option would start to sound less appealing to others.

“That’s not really my fault,” I admitted.  “I’m happy to keep handing them out.  But King Rard and his new Warlord want me to curtail my efforts.  We’re too dangerous, they say.”

“And you’re going to listen to them?” Banamor asked in a voice just above a whisper.  Since he was tacitly advocating rebellion and treason, I appreciated his discretion.

“I am,” I agreed, “for now.  After the Great March I don’t really want to attract royal attention for a while.  And to be honest, it serves my purposes.  There are over a hundred High Magi out there, now.  We need to ensure we can administer those before we add many more.”

“A fair point,” he conceded.  “Honestly, I’m glad we’ve moved away from the martial aspects of magic, for a change.  Developing our new resources is a better wager, in my mind.  Show the kingdom what a proper mageland can be like, when magic is put to good purpose.  Castles are magnificent works, it is true, but you can build three towns for the cost of even a small one.  Make the people prosper with magic and you’ll have power no caste can provide.”

“I don’t need more power,” I complained.  “I need more stability.  Look at these folk,” I said, gesturing to the busy merchants building booths and arranging inventory for the fair in two short days.  “The things they sell aren’t just luxuries, they’re the components of wonder.  And right now the only place where they all come together is here, in the shadow of the snowstone mountain,” I said, nodding toward Rundeval in the south.  “I want the people to prosper because prosperous people are happier and less likely to suffer, not because they’re better clients or taxpayers.”

“Yes, your sense of nobility does you credit, Magelord,” Banamor said gruffly.  “Please mind you don’t spill any on me.  I’m here to profit and raise my station.  I see the easiest way to do that is by making my products and services as expansive as possible - and only as expensive as they need to be, for now.  The best part of the entertainments this year are not the jongleurs or the dancing girls or even the jousters.  The best part is the contest for enchantment I proposed, in conjunction with the interest on the art.”

“Contest?” I asked, intrigued.

“I felt the emphasis on swords and spells was ignoring some of the more practical sides of the art,” he explained, as he led me to a large pale yellow tournament pavilion.  Inside set upon trestle tables or on the ground, were many different strange objects and contraptions.  “So I offered a prize for the most ingenious and useful enchantment, this year.”