Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (49 page)

Hemlock
considered anew
wha
t she had always accepted;
that the Elites had their areas and
that
the pe
ople from the Warrens had other separate areas
.
 
The
two groups did not intermingle.

Have we all been manipulated for all of these years?

"Why don’t the people from the Warrens insist on using the Elite beaches?" Hemlock asked aloud.

"People are tribal in nature.  They are conscious of their tribal affiliation and of other tribes.  We go to great lengths to reinforce the distinctions of course.  But it is largely an innate trait.  People must never feel that their tribe is a castoff or exploited by the other tribes.  That is why we always elevate a certain number of people from the Warrens into positions of public honor – in order to perpetuate the perception that true merit can overcome tribal boundaries.  People don’t always completely accept that, but it creates enough doubt that they do not challenge the tribal boundaries.  Overall, this tribalism and our policies to manage it and reinforce it serve to maintain order quite effectively."

"You don’t see that as exploitation?"

"No, I consider it a necessary symbiosis.  The Elites provide the laws, structure and ethical standards that define the lives in the Warrens.  The Warrens provide the human capital that we need to build and maintain both of our communities.  Before the Elites and the wizards, this land was ruled by a number of feuding warlords.  Suffering and death were a dominant part of everyone’s lives.  The Imperator ended that, and established this order, which has withstood the test of time until today."

Hemlock flushed with anger as she considered whether the work that Safreon and she had done in the Warrens had furthered the aims of Samberlin and the Elites.

"Are people…are they just pawns on a chessboard to you?  The people of the Warrens could live on their own," Hemlock responded indignantly.

Samberlin chuckled.  "No, governments control fear.  Without a government, people’s natural desire for more wealth takes hold, unfettered by any overarching authority.  These people begin to use violence, fear and intimidation to exploit the weak.  You need some form of central government to keep the meaner side of the human spirit in check."

Hemlock was angry, but these ideas were new to her.  She felt overmatched by the experience of Samberlin.

"The reason that I am telling you all of this is that you need to enter into an alliance with us with your eyes wide open.  You are very powerful, but you need to understand that your power needs to be applied and channeled through subordinates; the people," explained Samberlin, sweeping his arms around him at the final word.

"Could you have faced the entire horde of that foul Witch by yourself?  No, you needed the people to be with you, to support you and to allow your power to be applied to maximum effect.  The control that we exert over the people is used to this same end.  Your former mentor may have seen this as evil, but we see it as a necessary reality."

Again Hemlock felt overmatched.

I need to think.  Why didn’t Safreon discuss this with me?

"What is the relationship between the Elites and the wizards?" she finally asked.

For the first time, Samberlin did not immediately reply.

"Again, it’s a symbiosis.  The wizards control a vital resource: magic.  Sometimes that has put us at odds with them.  Ultimately, magic would have to be controlled by some entity; for in its raw form, it puts too much power into the hands of individuals, leading to risk of a society without central control, and all of the negative consequences that I’ve just described.  The wizards and the Senate share power now.  The wizards control magic very effectively and the Senate controls people equally effectively."

"Why can’t the Senate act in the interest of the people instead of controlling them?"  Hemlock argued.

"Because people often aren’t smart enough to understand their own best interests."

"I don’t agree with that."

"You’re young, wait until you have time to observe how people act and react – especially in a crisis.  You’ll see."

They had been walking for some time, past the beaches and the Senate building, which stood tall and proud.  That edifice had always seemed to embody justice to Hemlock.  Now the overseer of that building was telling her that it was all a lie.  That edifice was now the embodiment of manipulation in Hemlock’s eyes.

Having almost completed a full circuit of the lake, they were again nearing the Wizard Tower, which rose dark and mysterious, in contrast to the stately grandeur of the Senate building, which rose as a counterpart, across the smooth water of the lake.

Becoming conscious of their location, Samberlin asked, "Is that enough for today?  Or would you like to ask more questions?"

"You’ve given me things to think about, but it doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t change anything.  I will work with the wizards until we kill Gwineval.  After that, no promises," Hemlock responded defiantly.

Hemlock heard a skeptical grunt from behind her.  Looking back, she met eyes with Kraven.

"It will be fun to hunt you down then, after we kill the Lizard," he boasted, leering.

"Silence, you fool," Samberlin said flatly.

"Hemlock, your last remark was a dangerous statement.  One might infer that you might turn on us once Gwineval falls.  How are we expected to react to such an inclination on your part?"

"That is your concern, not mine," Hemlock responded, eyes still locked with Kraven.

Samberlin sighed. "Unfortunate.  Well, you lot, take her back.  And you," he pointed to Kraven, "don’t get any rash ideas.  Take her back unharmed."

"As you say, old man.  Come on," Kraven replied, continuing to smile darkly.

Hemlock
sat slumped in a fine brocade chair in the room that the wizards had imprisoned her in, gazing out the window.  She considered many of the things that Samberlin had said to her.

Should I have claimed to be loyal?
She had a feeling that that wouldn’t have worked.
He would have known
.

She considered that perhaps she had been wise to play it straight with the Speaker of the Senate.
Samberlin looks like a man who has spent a lifetime lying and learning to detect when others are.

Recoiling from unpleasant thoughts of the old Senator, her mind turned to fond, but bittersweet memories of Safreon.  She remembered his passion, his keen appreciation for individual liberty and his faith in the human spirit.
What had he said to her about the Elites?

"Most of them live in a gilded cage, dancing to the tune of their jailors.  They are good people, but naïve.  They do bear some responsibility for ignoring the plight of the less fortunate, but I cannot wholly indict them for that.  Someday, they may awaken, and be of great aid to our cause," she recalled him saying to her.

At the time, she hadn’t understood those words, and he hadn’t seemed anxious to elaborate.

Why did he spoon feed me this knowledge?
At least Samberlin and Falignus treat me like an adult.

A familiar knock came from outside the door.  She knew it well, as the person whom she expected to call on her had always knocked with a distinctive rhythm.  She didn’t like to admit to herself that she enjoyed these regular visits from Falignus,  but she did.

Perhaps it’s just the boredom
, she reasoned, fully aware that it wasn’t true.

She rose and opened the door, at once conscious of the fine gown that she wore, as Falignus had provided nothing less pretentious for her.

He bowed and entered the room, his light complexion wearing an uncharacteristic look of frustration, accented by his long dark hair.

"Greetings," he said, bowing to her.

"Hello," she replied, "I have a question for you."

"Oh?" he asked, surprised at her opening the conversation.  That had usually been his role since his visits had begun.

"When I broke into the Tower weeks ago, there were riddles warding the circular stairs in the utility room on the first floor.  The answer to the final riddle was my name.  I’ve been thinking about that, and wondering why.  Did you make the riddle?  Did you know that I was coming and set it up for me?" she asked.

"Ah yes," he replied with a playful sparkle in his eye overshadowing his former look of frustration. "I did create that riddle, although I didn’t consciously realize that it was going to be answered with the name of the first person to enter the Tower undetected in recorded history.  Hemlock is a reagent that we’ve been known to use in certain potions.  I think it was a coincidence, if you believe in those."

His answer did not fully satisfy Hemlock, but she accepted it, turning away and responding with a noncommittal grunt.

She felt Falignus’ eyes on her. "Hemlock, Gwineval continues to destroy the Oberon obelisks.  His tactical skill is amazing.  I had no idea that he was so skilled in that area, or I would have transferred him to the First Circle."

"Any word on his location?" she asked.

"None yet.  He has yet to show himself on the battlefield.  I suspect that he is taking time to study the Wand and learn its uses."

"Why don’t we attack?"

"We can’t get drawn into a long campaign now and we are low on harvester golems.  Our priority is to maintain the supply of Oberon to the City.  Plus I need to stay in the City to make sure that rascal Samberlin doesn’t make any unexpected political maneuvers.  You’ve met him now, so you probably can appreciate my concern in that area."

"Yes, I can.  By the way, I suspect that the tactics you are seeing are not Gwineval’s, but Tored’s.  He is a Tanna Varran general.  He seemed like a great soldier to me," she mentioned without thinking.  She then wondered about the wisdom of providing that information to Falignus.

"Really?  Tored, you say?  Thank you," he replied, looking pleased.  "I didn’t think that aberrant fool had it in him to be a military commander."

There was a long pause as Hemlock felt guilty for providing information about Tored, who had done her no wrong.

Falignus approached more closely and gently turned her head until her gaze met his.

"I'd like you to attend a ball with me
,
"
he stated, ignoring her incredulous look at his touching her.

Hemlock
mockingly
scowled in response, but relented wh
en she saw that he was serious.

"Are you mad?
 
I'm a prisoner in your Tower.
 
Why wo
uld you ask me to attend a ball?  A
nd assuming I had a choice,
why would I choose to do that?"

Falignus took a light tone
in response.
"I prefer to think of you as a g
uest, as you know.
 
Of course
I can't force you to go to a ball
–
it would defeat the purpose
and spoil all of the fun
.
 
It's meant to be a lighthearted
and joyous event after all."

"Sorry, I'm not in
a dancing mood at the moment."

"Precisely why you should attend.
 
I also have a surprise f
or you–a pleasant surprise.
 
And y
ou can pick out a nice dress for the occasion.
"

"I've had enough surprises in the past weeks for one lifetime
,
I think
,
" He
mlock responded, eyes downcast.

Falignus stood silent for a moment, looking contemplative.

"Fine, you're making me spoil the surprise.
"  He paused.
 
"
You recall that I mentioned that I had personally se
en to the care of your sister?"

Hemlock looked up wit
h undisguised hope in her eyes.

"See?
 
That got your attention, didn't it?
 
Well, I do lik
e to attend these balls in the e
lite district from time to time.
 
I have a weakness for
the
pomp and finery
,
I suppose.
 
One of my contacts mentioned
to me that your s
ister, now quite healthy and happy, has been invited to the
b
all by a prominent nobleman.
 
You’ve been asking me constantly about seeing her. 
I thought that you might want to attend
this ball for that reason, and perhaps for others as well."

Hemlock was silent for several moments.
 
Finally she chuckled to herself.
 
"So you think it's that easy,
do you?" she asked rhetorically.

"I assume nothing.
 
If you do not wish to go
,
then you do not have to."

"Is it fun for you?" she asked.

"What?" he replied with a tone of mild annoyance, like one might use with a recalcitrant child.

"Playing these little games with me?"

"Look.  I’m a wizard, but I’m also a young man living here in relative seclusion with a bunch of old, boring scholars.  There is suddenly a beautiful young woman in our midst.  It seems perfectly natural, to me, that I might ask her to a function such as this, feeling as I do about her, that is."

Hemlock felt reluctantly charmed by Falignus’ invitation, but also felt deeply offended at the circumstances under which the invitation was being delivered.  Her thoughts turned to her sister, though, and she knew that she wanted to say yes and accept his offer.

Turning away from him, she said, "Have you spoken to Samberlin?"

"I have."

"What did he say about me?"

"He said that your loyalty is uncertain."

"And you are undeterred by that, I gather?"

"If your loyalty was so easily won, I should probably value it much less."

"Well spoken.  I suppose that I’ll play along, then.  I’ll attend your little ball, but only if that old fool, Grubbins, chaperones," she said finally, turning back toward him.

For the first time, she thought that she had truly caught him off guard.

She smiled slightly and he looked relieved when he realized her joke.

"Why, I was fairly terrified at that prospect.  Well played," he responded, smiling. "Now," he continued, "you do need to understand that we will be magically disguised.  Your sister will not be able to recognize you.  I thought it best to initially handle matters like this.  You will be able to make full contact with her soon.  Besides, she seems quite smitten with this noble who will escort her.  It might be a kindness to let them enjoy their evening, and for us to enjoy ours from a distance."

Hemlock looked at his full lips and cleft chin and wondered what his real intentions were.  There had been boys and a few men in the Warrens that had made overtures toward her in the past.  Some had intrigued her–mostly on a physical level–but she had never felt a loss of control like she felt around Falignus.  This scared her and made her want to rebuff him. 

But she had already agreed to go and she couldn’t figure out a graceful (or logical) way to demure. 

Falignus was always graceful in his interactions with her and this made her want to be graceful as well.

What is this connection I feel with him?

Realizing that she had been lost in thought and hadn’t responded to him, she hastily replied, “Yes, let her enjoy the night.  It will be enough for me to see her."

Falignus bowed to her and she again saw a sparkle in his eye.

"Tomorrow, when I come to you, it will be early evening.  We will dine together, and then make our way to the Ball."

He smiled at her as he executed a self-deprecating bow, and then left the chamber.

Hemlock moved toward her dinner tray, which had been brought by a young Wizard some minutes prior to Falignus’ arrival.  As she ate, she wondered why Falignus had never dined with her before. 

…

She began the following day by progressing through her usual routine.

As had happened every morning since she had come to the Tower, she was escorted down each of the Tower floors on a gently winding staircase that seemed to follow the curve of the Tower’s outer walls, punctuated by sharp turns where the walls formed a corner.  She was then led out of a small basement door and into the caves beyond.  While she was not allowed to experience the freshness of outside air, the air in the caves and caverns was still somewhat refreshing compared to that of the Tower (for her chamber’s windows were closed and secured by the magical field used by the wizards to restrain her).  Only the guarding presence of the wizard Kraven, and his unending stream of crass sexual advances marred what would have otherwise been a pleasant part of her day.

Hemlock had taken to reading a treatise on the magical properties of roots and herbs, one of the few books in her chamber, and, much to her chagrin, the least boring of them.  She recalled some of the herbs from her childhood, when she had lived on her family’s farm outside of the veil, and this was comforting to her.

As the sun began to set, Hemlock’s thoughts turned fully to the coming events of the evening.  She had been thinking about the ball all day, but only now allowed herself to become fully aware of it.

She rose and opened the door of a large wardrobe and exhaled mildly in surprise.  Several exquisite gowns had been placed there while she had been out on her daily walk.

She chose a blue dress, woven expertly in an iridescent, smooth fabric, which she assumed was silk.  It was accented with gemlike beads and pleated luxuriously below the waist with sequins.  It was more beautiful and elegant than any clothing that she had ever seen.

Fine jewelry had also been placed out for her.  She chose ornate silver earrings featuring topaz stones and a large topaz necklace, encircled with a stunning set of shimmering diamonds.

This jewelry alone would buy half of the homes in the Warrens
, she thought in amazement.

After she had dressed herself, she sat for a time and waited for a knock on the door.  She was undeniably excited and as she sat, she tried to coax herself into a neutral frame of mind, for, as she chided herself, she was engaging in this activity only to gain the trust of Falignus, so that she might be given an opportunity to avenge herself against Gwineval.  And, of course, she desperately wanted to see her sister and be sure she was safe.