Forever Shores (40 page)

Captain Dar was dressed well before Lambholder had finished fastening the ankle length coat. He was almost completely covered in stained and battered leather, featureless in the mask. ‘Hurry,' he said, voice muffled. With a clumsy-looking swaying gait, he was gone.

Lambholder seized the leather helmet and gauntlets and stumbled outside.

The wooden fence surrounding the depot had seen better days. Lambholder decided it would make poor farming country. He couldn't see any grass or plants growing inside the fence, and the trees closest on the other side looked as if they were sorry they'd chosen the neighbourhood. The buildings were weather-worn bare wood, long and low, barracks and store rooms mostly, he thought. The grey, bare earth beneath his feet was dusty and tired looking. Behind the buildings, he could see fumes and vapours drifting upwards.

When Lambholder joined Captain Dar, he was standing at the head of a mob of villains, thieves and cut throats. Lambholder immediately rushed to the captain's side to defend him from them. To a man, they were unshaven and poorly groomed. Clothes hung on them with a hint of desperation, as if covering up the ill-made bodies was a civic responsibility. They were all muttering, spitting and scratching various parts that—if everyone was lucky—were private. All this immediately proved Lambholder wrong when he had, at first, assumed them incapable of doing two things at once.

The stench that came from this assembly was enough to make Lambholder long for the dung pit back home on the farm.

Captain Dar, however, wasn't fazed by this evil gang. He marched right up to them and pulled his helmet off.

‘Get back to work, you lot!' he shouted. ‘Haven't you heard a novice wizard before?'

The sound of screaming was very close now, and Lambholder could catch glimpses of a wagon hurtling along the dusty road leading to the depot. But over that noise, and the increased muttering, spitting and foot shuffling, Lambholder could hear one sound rising clearly over them all. It was the sound of his dreams slowly deflating.

The motley bunch in front of him weren't assassins, bullies or out of work henchmen. They were the members of the Waste Brigade.

Lambholder had been brought up to believe that the members of the Waste Brigade were the elite. The highest standards of physical, moral and intellectual rectitude were the norm. Strong of arm, keen of eye, firm of heart, these were the qualities of the average corpsman. On the long winter nights, with only a pitiful peat fire for warmth—and several hundred sheep crammed into the living area—Lambholder had been entranced by tales of the shining examples of selflessness set by the Waste Brigade, risking their lives to clean up magic waste, pitting their strength against rough and wild enchantments, cleaning up where no one had cleaned up before, and all with a song in their hearts a smile on their lips and a sense of justice over all.

The reality, it appeared, was somewhat different.

‘Sounded like a good un on the way, Chief,' a voice came from the ranks. One of the ranker ranks, Lambholder thought. ‘Looks like it'll be a bit of fun.'

‘Haven't you got work to do?' Captain Dar snarled.

‘We're off duty,' came the chorus from the grimy assembly.

Captain Dar jabbed a finger at them. ‘There's no off duty when it comes to emergencies. You know that. Now fall back and wait for your orders.'

He motioned to Lambholder, and the new recruit stumbled back. As he did, the mysterious wagon bolted from the last of the trees, and raced through the gates.

The horse was wild-eyed and a-lather. The driver was standing on the seat, robes billowing, one hand holding the reins, the other slapping wildly at his waist and midriff. He was screaming like a boiled wildcat.

The corpsman started cheering and whistling at this performance. Some even stopped spitting to do so.

‘Enough!' Captain Dar bellowed as he seized the horse's bridle. ‘Atch! Parjee! He's hot! Get a Number 15 barrel. Stat! Where's Stat? Stat, you find Corporal Crully. The rest of you, bring buckets of water from the pump. Move!'

The cheering stopped and the corpsman shuffled, stumbled and staggered into action.

Lambholder felt in a daze. This was the Waste Brigade in action? He turned his attention to the screaming wizard.

The wizard was only half Lambholder's height, and painfully thin. His screaming was rising and falling, but even though the horses had come to a halt, he still stood on the seat of the cart. He plucked at his belt, but kept his gaze rigidly on the horizon. Light rippled and bloomed from him in waves.

‘Lambholder! We have to get him down!'

Manhandling the screaming wizard was like hoisting a very loud bundle of sticks, but he was much heavier than Lambholder had guessed. Once the Captain and Lambholder touched him, he became completely rigid, arms by his side. This close, Lambholder could see that the glowing and pulsing came from under the wizard's clothes. Slowly, the light changed colour, but sickly yellows and browns were the main theme. And even through the heavy leather, Lambholder could feel how hot the wizard was.

‘Where's that barrel?' Captain Dar snarled, but then saw the barrel was near, propelled by two of the shaggiest of the corpsman. ‘Upright!' Captain Dar snapped.

The buckets began arriving at that moment, and soon the barrel was full. Distantly, Lambholder noticed his gauntlets were beginning to smoke. ‘Easy, now,' Dar said over the screaming. ‘Lift him up. Feet first, into the barrel.'

The other corpsmen stood well back at this stage. Lambholder wasn't reassured by this at all. To add to his discomfort, he was sweating under the heavy leather gear, and he had an excruciating itch under his left armpit.

When the wizard's feet hit the water, they hissed. Steam billowed upwards. ‘More water!' Dar called. Soon, a bucket brigade had formed, the corpsmen passing buckets between the water pump and the barrel.

‘Slowly now,' Captain Dar said. ‘Slowly.'

As the reluctant corpsmen topped up the barrel, Captain Dar and Lambholder eased the wizard into the water little by little. Soon the water had risen over the wizard's feet and up to his knees. When it reached his waist, a cloud of steam billowed from the barrel and the water started to boil violently. ‘Hold him!' Dar shouted to Lambholder over the wizard's keening. ‘More water! More water!' he called to the corpsmen.

Then the wizard sagged a little and the screaming stopped. His eyes focused for a moment, then he sighed and closed them. Lambholder put an arm around the wizard's shoulders to steady him.

Soon, the water was up to his chest, and he bobbed gently in the barrel, either asleep or unconscious. His head rested on his chest.

Lambholder straightened, ready to clap the captain on the back. At last, a real Waste Brigade adventure! Then he noticed that the corpsmen had all backed off again. His sweat grew chill.

‘Don't move,' Captain Dar said.

‘Yes sir.'

‘Crully!'

‘Yes Chief?' Crully called from a distance.

‘Get one of the big storage crucibles. The Invincible.'

‘The Invincible?'

‘You'd better take a few of the lads to help you.' Captain Dar looked at Lambholder through the lenses of his leather mask. ‘I have to get the storage vials from him. He's overloaded.'

‘Ah. Oh. Storage vials?'

A small twitch of the helmet may have indicated that Captain Dar was smiling. ‘Didn't your ma tell you about this part of the job either?'

‘Well, no, not really. I realise now that most of the stories were a bit short on detail.'

‘Most stories are, lad.'

Lambholder struggled with this. ‘What do we do now?'

‘This wizard is obviously a novice. He hasn't paid much attention to the basic rule of magic.'

Lambholder knew this part. It was the whole reason for the existence of the Waste Brigade. ‘Action and reaction,' he said smartly. ‘Every time a magician expends magical force externally, an equal amount of magical force rebounds on the magician.'

‘Good lad. Gradually, of course, this builds up. Big magic, big build-up. In the old days, magicians simply used to slough this waste magic off. The great pools of raw magical waste were unusable, toxic, and that's when the Waste Brigade was founded. It was our job to go around and siphon this stuff into tarred barrels and store them where they wouldn't do any harm. Dangerous work, that. Nowadays, of course, things are a bit more civilised, thanks to the storage vials.'

Captain Dar motioned Lambholder closer to the barrel containing the magician. The magic-user was still unconscious, but the waves of heat had subsided. ‘See?' Captain Dar said as he reached into the water and eased the magician's robes apart. Bands of metal circled the magician's waist, and they were glowing fitfully. Strapped to the metal bands were six jars each the size of Lambholder's hand. They radiated light and heat.

‘Copper wire,' Captain Dar explained. ‘All magicians have lengths of it strapped around their waist. It channels the excess magic into the storage vials. When the storage vials are full, the magician brings them to a waste depot like this one. We drain the waste into barrels or holding ponds, then the magician is set to go again. This one obviously wasn't paying attention to the levels of his vials. They were probably nearly full when he tried something extravagant like raising the dead, or turning lead into gold. Still, it could've been worse. I've seen life-sized charcoal statues shaped exactly like wizards, you know.'

Lambholder swallowed. ‘He's all right now?'

‘Not nearly,' Captain Dar said. ‘We've cooled him down a bit, but it's only temporary. He could go off any second. We still have to drain the vials. Where's Crully?'

‘Right here, Chief!' Crully had taken time to don the protective gear, and he was waddling alongside two husky corpsmen. They were carrying an earthenware receptacle nearly as tall as Crully himself. ‘Just put old Invincible next to Captain Dar, boys. Right-hand side. I'll just stand back so I won't get in your way.'

‘Lambholder,' Captain Dar said. ‘You hold the magician steady. Very steady.'

Lambholder tried to imagine he was back on the farm, dealing with old Cornelius, a particularly testy ram. Old Cornelius had been known to have territorial disputes with wild dogs, wolves, cows, trees and large rocks. He usually won these battles, and handling this cantankerous old ram was an exercise in tact and not moving too quickly.

Captain Dar lifted an eyebrow. ‘What do we have here?' he muttered. He lifted his head a little. ‘Crully, is the lid off the Invincible?'

‘Yes Chief!' Crully's voice came from some distance away.

Lambholder had a better view than he really wanted, but he was helpless not to watch. Captain Dar moved slowly, gently unhooking wires from the stoppers in each vial. His hands were sure as they eased the first vial off the wire belt. ‘One,' he said and he held it up for scrutiny. Water dripped from the vial as he studied it. ‘New design,' he grunted, and turned and lowered it gently into the crucible.

The second vial was more troublesome, but Captain Dar worked at it until it came free. ‘Two.'

Three, four and five went easily, but number six wouldn't budge.

‘Anything I can do?' Lambholder whispered.

‘No,' Captain Dar said tersely, then he swore under his breath. ‘I've nearly got it.'

At that moment, the wizard's eyes flew open. Lambholder didn't like the look of those eyes. Slightly glassy, with a fever bright sheen. ‘Of course I can do it,' he said earnestly. ‘Just leave a deposit and I'll get back to you.'

‘Ignore him,' Captain Dar said. ‘It'll be a while before he's himself again. There.'

Captain Dar straightened, holding the last vial. ‘Crully! Ready with the lid!'

‘You men there!' came Crully's far-away voice. ‘Ready with the lid!'

Captain Dar deposited the vial and stood back as the lid was slid on.

Lambholder's ears popped with a sudden pressure change as the assembled corpsmen all let out the breath they were holding.

‘Well, take him to the infirmary, Lambholder,' Captain Dar ordered. He stripped off his gauntlets and removed his helmet. He stood there, stretching and massaging his neck. ‘Crully, you help him.'

Lambholder followed Captain Dar's example and took off his gauntlets and helmet. Then, as the wizard looked around brightly, Lambholder and Crully dragged him out of the barrel. The wizard's body remained limp and he began a stream of formless chatter. ‘Of course, sir, I'm an experienced wizard,' he said to no one that Lambholder could see. ‘I'll take care of all your enchantment needs.'

‘You take his top half, sonny,' Crully said, ignoring the wizard's jabber. ‘I'll manage his legs.'

‘This way,' Captain Dar said, and he marched off.

‘You want a levitating house, just like the Vizier's?' the wizard went on. ‘Not a problem. By tomorrow? Of course!'

‘They always promise more than they can deliver,' Crully said as they shuffled towards the infirmary. ‘Next thing they know, they're up to their neck in magical overload. It's inexperience what does it, of course.'

The magician continued his unfocused babble. ‘And Mr Sheeze, you're sure these new vials can handle twice the usual amount of waste? And that your waste processing facility will take all my waste for a fraction of the cost of the Waste Brigade depot? Sign me up!'

Lambholder stopped short. ‘What is it?' Crully asked.

‘Sheeze. Captain Dar, wasn't Chindler Sheeze the man who wanted to see you?'

Captain Dar rubbed his chin. ‘Tremen's friend. Very interesting.'

‘The one with Tremen?' Crully put in. ‘Well, doesn't that beat all! I saw them both riding out of here a while ago, just after this feller appeared. Seemed to be in a hurry, they did. And, come to think of it, that's the same feller I saw with Tremen a couple of weeks ago, nosing around some of the oldest holding ponds. The ones right out the back.'