Spellscribed: Conviction (8 page)

Endrance took his spellbook, patted himself over, made sure he had a few essentials, and dismounted. He held the reins out to Selene. "I'll meet you all at Ironsoul." Endrance said, giving her a smile. "Joven, you show them the way."

The barbarian nodded. Selene leaned down and kissed the mage on the forehead. "Don't die on me." she whispered. "We just got started."

Endrance smiled reassuringly at her. "I promise you, we'll see each other again soon."

"That's sweet." Weldom exclaimed. "Now get your ass over here."

Endrance walked up to the man. "Now what?"

"Do you have any spells or objects that impede dimensional travel?" Weldom asked. "If you do, tell me now or you may end up smeared over the side of the universe."

If I may interject.
 Gullin spoke up from his place up in the sky. 
I may have some... side effects on dimensional travel.

Endrance pointed up at the sky. "I have a familiar." he said.

Weldom rolled his eyes. "Well, call it down and take it with you. Don't try anything."

Endrance scowled at him as he mentally called Gullin to his arm. "I'm cooperating, why are you so hostile?"

"Just a feature of my winning personality." Weldom snapped back. He took a step back as the Fjallar landed on Endrance's outstretched arm, the talons wrapping around the bracer under his sleeve for support. "Gods!" he exclaimed. "That's your familiar?"

Endrance felt a small surge of satisfaction. "Yes." he answered, "Is there something wrong with Gullin?"

Weldom looked the mage over. "Your power is still in its infancy, but to be strong enough to summon one of the three... you had potential. Too bad it's wasted now."

"That's yet to be proven, Weldom." Endrance quipped. 
There are only three of your kind?

Yes.
 Gullin replied. 
Three of us, siblings.

This makes being able to summon you seem all the more significant.
 Endrance observed. "So what do I have to do to take him with me?" he asked Weldom, who was still examining the familiar.

"You can't." Weldom replied. "His astral form is many magnitudes greater than his physical form. You'll have to dismiss him and resummon him if you're given permission to, though I suspect you won't be given it."

Endrance grimaced. 
You heard him. 
He said. 
I'll see you on the other side.

I shall watch over your journey where I can.
 Gullin assured him. Endrance cut the link between them with a complicated mental command, and the Fjallar momentarily turned into fire and lost cohesion, vanishing. Endrance felt an empty echo in his mind, where he had gotten used to the familiar's presence.

"There." Weldom said. "We're here."

Endrance opened his eyes and realized he was no longer outside. Complex geometric spell patterns graced alabaster stone walls, inlaid in gold. Endrance looked around, and found himself in a small chamber with Weldom at his side. Two male wizards of the Circle, both decades older than he, stood by the door near a masterfully crafted silver table. They looked to Weldom, who nodded to them. The two wizards approached, one with thick black hair and the other thinning brown hair, but both of their faces looked like they were ready to react to any movement he made.

"These two will examine you for latent spell effect, and relieve you of your spellbook and enchanted equipment." Weldom stated, gesturing to the table. "All items will be stored in a chest sealed by me, to be kept safe until your verdict is reached. Upon which, either they will be returned to you, or I will take ownership of them until they can be either destroyed or recirculated. I'm personally hoping for destruction."

Endrance spread his arms as the mages cast their divinations on him. "Did... did I do something horribly cruel to you in a past life?" he asked. "Because I'm not entirely sure why you're so angry at me. It feels personal."

"It is personal, wizard." Weldom snapped. "But you wouldn't understand."

Endrance considered what he knew. "Maybe it's something Kaelob did?" he asked.

"Shut up." Weldom said plainly. "Now turn out your pockets and strip out of those clothes. You will be given clean robes that we can guarantee haven't been tampered with."

Endrance sighed. "Okay." he said, cooperating. He handed over the few spell tabs he had crafted, the necklace carrying the four rings, and his antler-handled daggers. The knives drew raised eyebrows from the two wizards, and Endrance shrugged.

"It's rough up north." he replied.

One wizard pulled a knife free of its scabbard, and noted the large number of scratches and signs of use on the sides of the blade. The edge was, of course, sharp and clear of burrs; Joven would murder him if he caught him mishandling his weapons.

"I'd like those back. Trophies." Endrance said. Weldom glared at him. "It's a barbarian thing." Endrance explained. His objects were dumped unceremoniously on the silver table.

He pulled off the coat, handing it to the duo. He shucked his shirt, and hesitated as the two wizards keeping a close eye on him gasped.

They were looking at his tattoos and the two silver bracers on his wrists. Endrance held out his shirt, and one of them took it, placing it on the table.

"Those bracers are well beyond your ability to craft." Weldom declared. Endrance felt his twinge of irritation swiftly growing into a deep burning dislike of the man. "Where did you get them?"

"Valeria was Kaelob's master, as I'm sure you're well aware." Endrance said. "They were hers once. Kaelob gave them to me when I passed his trials."

He was technically lying. Kaelob had given him the left bracer when Endrance passed the trials. The right one was given to him by the very assassin who had put him into this situation when Valeria, whom the world thought dead, had betrayed her. That was a little more complicated than Endrance was wanting to explain to a man who would take everything he said in the worst light, so he omitted that detail.

"You're trying to tell me that Kaelob had those this whole time?" Weldom demanded.

"Well, except for this last year or so, when I had them." Endrance replied. "Besides, Kaelob said they were her first crafting project and weren't her real bracers."

"Kaelob says many things," Weldom replied. "The wise man learns to believe none of it."

Endrance sighed. "You want me to take them off, right?" he said. "I'm not going to activate them."

Weldom rolled his eyes. "Yes. I want you to take the Arch Mage-quality magic artifacts off your arms and hand them to me."

Endrance undid the clasps, holding out the bracers. The wizards attending Weldom didn't get a chance to reach for them as the High Magus snatched them out of his hands and held on to them.

"Who scribed you?" Weldom demanded.

"Didn't we go over this already?" Endrance snapped. "I don't know! I was a baby!"

"Then who did the new ones?" the High Magus retorted. "Those arrangements were not on your body when I last saw you."

"When did you last see me?"

"Answer the question."

Endrance shook his head. "I did them myself."

Weldom tilted his head. "You did them yourself."

"Yes."

The High Magus sighed. "I should have expected you to not be honest with me. Fine, the interrogator will winnow out the truth."

Endrance didn't like the sound of that. "I'm totally serious." He said in his defense.

"Don't want to hear it." came the reply. "Pants."

Endrance looked down. "Really?"

"Pants!"

Endrance hurriedly stripped down, shucking everything. "Fine. Happy?" he grumbled.

"No."

Endrance rolled his eyes. "Figures."

He had a simple brown robe shoved into his hands once they were certain he had been divested of any items or objects that could be enchanted. It was cut cheaply, but he could feel it was clean and of high quality cloth when he pulled it on. He was offered no footwear, but they didn't clamp any kind of restraints on him.

After dressing, he looked at Weldom. "So... now what?" Endrance asked. "Are we going to shackle me? Or are we going to tie up my hands or gag me?"

"Oh gods, I wish we were." Weldom replied. "But we don't need to worry about that."

"No?"

"No." The High Magus looked like he was tasting something sour. "I am required by the Archmagus to inform you that the spells warding the inside of his tower will detect any form of magic and will prevent unauthorized teleportation. Since you are retaining your plea of innocence, you are being afforded a suite within the tower. You are to remain inside, unless escorted by a member of the Circle of Magus rank or higher. Any attempts to leave without said authorization is to be considered a confession of guilt. Breaking any laws within the tower, causing bodily harm, damaging its property, or using magic in a harmful way is considered a confession of guilt. Do you understand these completely overgenerous regulations."

Endrance pondered for a few seconds. "So, you're saying that I'm here on house arrest?" He asked.

"Archmagus Talos prefers to consider anyone of the Holy Circle innocent, unless he absolutely has to believe otherwise." Weldom replied. "Something I don't necessarily agree with."

Endrance frowned. "What if someone attacks me while I'm sleeping?"

"Causing bodily harm is a confession of guilt."

"What if someone tries to drag me out that isn't a mage?"

"Leaving the tower, or your room unassisted is a confession of guilt."

"Well, I'm sure that the chances of someone assassinating me while you're in charge will be slim to none." Endrance said, irritated.

Weldom shook his head. "No. I'm not in charge of someone so insignificant. There's larger things at hand that I must attend to than you. You will be attended by untalented followers of the Holy Circle."

"I'm shattered." Endrance replied dryly. "Just when I was starting to warm up to you."

"Do you understand the regulations?" Weldom demanded.

"Yes." Endrance snapped.

"See you at the trial." The High Magus replied curtly, and with a snap of his fingers, was gone.

Endrance sighed, looking over at the two wizards, who had just finished locking up his possessions. "He's a charmer." he observed. The two only gave him a thin-lipped smile before leading him to his room. They refused to talk to him, though Endrance was unable to figure out why.

Endrance’s suite was larger than he had thought possible. Thirty feet by forty-five feet, the room had thick carpets over the stone floor, bookshelves packed with books. An expansive desk with empty pages of parchments, blank books, inks, and quills sat across from an ornate four poster bed. The bed was made with plush sheets and comforters, and enough pillows he could have slept on those alone and been comfortable. A four foot column in the center of the room had a gold and silver decorated brazier set at the top, which crackled merrily with a warm, cheerful fire.

Endrance looked around the room, awed. “This is my cell?” he asked, surprised. There was even a silver angel themed fountain in the corner where clear cool water constantly trickled into a silver-lined basin. A cabinet was nearby, hand crafted wood with fine detailing that contained all manner of dining utensils in one door, and the other door was full of freshly cooked food. That one puzzled the mage until he figured out that it was magically conjuring food when he opened the door.

“Well,” Endrance sighed as he sat down at the desk. “Here I am.” The door had been closed, leaving him to his own devices. He sighed. “Now what?”

Joven glowered into the campfire as he sat watch the night that Weldom took Endrance away from him. Reduced now to just himself, the Draugnoa, and Giselle, the camp was half the size it had been before.

"I'm going to strangle that man." Joven grumbled. The rest had bedded down for the night. Giselle, though they had no way of communicating, seemed perfectly capable of reading body language and had stayed nearest to Tanya ever since Endrance had left.

He didn't know what to do, other than to press on. Endrance had been taken to Ironsoul, where he would stand trial for crimes that the Sha'hdi Jalyin had committed. He couldn't even do anything once they got there. It was so infuriating, but he had to press on regardless. Endrance would need their moral support if nothing else.

He looked over at the packs and couldn't help but see the large bone jutting out of the pile. Maybe he couldn't get to Endrance right now, but perhaps... perhaps he could have something to give him when he arrived. He stared at the reddish, pink-stained bone as he considered what he would need to do. He would focus on that for now, put all his anxiety and worry for his charge into every detail of the project. Perhaps by the time they got to Ironsoul, he'd have something worth giving to Endrance. Or in the worst case, he could beat that mage, Weldom, to death.

He started making a mental list of what he would need to clean and purify the bone. He had most of the hand tools in his pack, but he would need to stop at the town of Lakestead to get the ones he needed to carve the bone into a workable staff for someone of Endrance's height. He had tested the strength of the hydra bone when he had collected it; the thing was stronger than most steel, so he would need to get some very special tools to cut through it. Hydras were amazingly large beasts and carried much mass, so he wasn't surprised that the leg bone was made to handle such a heavy body running around.

He spent so long figuring out what he was going to do, that he almost forgot to wake Bridget for her shift on watch. There was far less to be afraid of in Ironsoul than in Balator. Most large nests of monstrous creatures had been stamped out by High King Mastadon's military forces as quickly as they cropped up, but it was the civilians that bothered him. The most dangerous creature he'd ever encountered in Ironsoul was probably the blood tiger that Endrance had killed, but they had stuck to the deep woods and high grasslands of a different satrap than the one they were in.

Bridget grumbled as she got up for her watch, but otherwise didn't object. Joven lay down, and tried his best to fill his thoughts with plans for the bone, and not of his charge being beheaded while he was still days away.

He failed.

* * *

The trip through to Lakestead was entirely without incident, which was yet another reason why Joven hated the place. They found a major road and followed it, and they managed to make it in only a week's time. The most adventure they had the entire way was Giselle, who did not yet understand the common language and physically insisted on running off to investigate every little thing that caught her eye. Joven could see that the girl had more similarities with a puppy, than a child; but he wasn't sure if that was normal. All of the wolfmen he had encountered up until that trip had been fully grown. Then again, they had all also been trying to kill him. Perhaps they mentally matured as their bodies did?

Getting into Lakestead turned out to be difficult. Some trader down the road had seen them approaching, got the wrong idea, and fled back into Lakestead crying 'The Barbarians are invading!'.

Now they were outside the reinforced wooden gates to the town, looking up at the three men with bows aimed at them. From the sound of it, they would be accompanied by a few dozen more in mere moments.

Joven had dismounted, but the other three remained on their horses. He wasn't going to get to Ironsoul proper if they had angry Iron Satrap troops chasing them across the country everywhere they went. He held his hands up as he approached, showing that he had not drawn any weapons.

"Hello!" Joven called, putting on a smile. "We were wondering if we could rent a room for the night. Perhaps buy some supplies?"

"Halt!" One of the men cried. Joven stopped. "Why are you in Ironsoul at all, barbarian?"

Joven felt a twitch tug at the corner of his smile. "Our Spengur is in the capitol, and we're on the way to meet him. Surely you know of this?" he declared.

The men quickly consulted each other. To his surprise, they didn't entirely lower their guard. The one in the center looked back down at him. "What in the hells is a Spengur?" he replied, scowling.

Joven felt a moment of confusion. "You do not know what a Spengur is?" he asked. "It's one of your magic users. Are you sure you haven't heard of him?"

The man didn't answer, but four more men appeared up on the walls. One of them wore armor that was more detailed than the others, and bore himself with greater bearing. Joven immediately pegged the man as their leader.

"You are looking for your mage?" the leader asked, incredulous. "You people hate mages."

"Yes. You would too, if you had any common sense." Joven replied with a smile. "But that's not the point. The point is that Endrance is our mage, and we are here peacefully. We have a few things we would like to trade with you, if you will."

The leader waved down the archers. "It's only one barbarian, his women, and his dog." the man declared, apparently mistakenly identifying the young wolf riding with Tanya. "We will let you in, but you will be under escort the whole time. Cause any trouble, and we won't bother arresting you."

Joven nodded. "That's generous." he replied, a hint of sarcasm on his breath.

The gates opened inwards, and a cluster of men waited. They appeared to be militia men; people with armor hastily pulled over every day clothes. Joven sized up the number of men and figured that the militia would be easy enough to wipe out, should it come to a fight; but the trained men at the wall would be a problem.

As if sensing his thoughts, the leader climbed down the ladder from the wall and approached. "We have a full garrison within two minutes of here, so don't get any funny ideas." he proclaimed.

Joven smiled wryly. "I was just thinking that I am going to have to respect you a little bit more now that I know." he declared.

The man studied him seriously for several seconds before nodding curtly. "Good. Respect I can accept." he said, a hint of a smile on his face.

Joven gestured to the militia. "Are they to be our escorts?"

The man shook his head. "They should go home and get back to work!" he said loudly enough for the men to hear. The militia men shot him an angry glare, and the crowd scattered slowly.

"We will wait for our replacements to arrive, and then we will be escorting you." The leader replied. "You arrived on our shift; you're our responsibility. Specifically mine, for letting you in."

Joven smiled at the man. "I understand." he said, touching a hand to his chest. "I am Joven, son of Daelen, of the Guardian bloodline of Rothel."

The man looked puzzled, but nodded. "I'm Sargent Jorgensen." he identified himself. His armor was a light steel breastplate and helm, detailed simply, but the presence of detailing was indicative that he was somewhat more important in their rank and file. "I'll be sticking with you."

Joven nodded. "Fine." he grunted. "Where can we offload some bones?"

Jorgensen frowned. "You want to sell bones?" he asked.

Joven pulled out a hydra tooth, easily a foot long. "You don't want hydra bones?" he asked, confused. "Endrance said they'd be worth a lot of coin."

Jorgensen blinked, staring at the tooth. "You killed a hydra?" he asked. "Where?"

Joven shrugged. "North, in the pass. It had been preying on traders traveling between our lands."

Sargent Jorgensen nodded. "Well, the regulars and our shops won’t have much use for the bones, but the mages in town would find them very appealing. I'll see what I can do about getting you to meet one."

"That's very... generous of you." Joven said, scratching his head.

"It's nothing of the sort." Jorgensen replied. "The fastest way to be rid of you is to finish your business here and get you back on the road."

The barbarian laughed. "You're honest." Joven declared. "I like that."

The man walked ahead to lead the way, and Selene moved up alongside Joven.

"You know, Endrance did most of the work killing the hydra." she whispered. "Why did you say you did it?"

"I never said anything of the sort." Joven replied quietly. "He assumed, and I didn't bother to correct him." the big man shrugged. "Not my fault if he gets the wrong idea."

Selene nodded, her eyes slightly unfocused as she walked on autopilot. Joven could tell she was noting that trick for later use, perhaps even discussing it with her other self.

He never did fully understand her condition, but what he did know was plenty. Endrance had told him that she was one of the discarded daughters of King Kalenden, who had been 'breeding' children with summoned demons in order to have loyal, powerful soldiers. Unlike the others, she had been taken away to join the Ergkinoa as a baby, and never got the same kind of training that her brothers and sisters had. Instead, she suppressed her demonic side, keeping it unconsciously bottled up until the day Endrance had inadvertently cracked the seal. Since then, her demonic side had been primal, like a wild animal thrust into a pen with trained domesticated animals. Endrance was astoundingly patient with her, and it had started showing some results; the demonic side was starting to soften, just a bit, at the edges.

Endrance promised him that she was still the same person, and to just think of it as Selene having impulse control issues. Joven tried to explain that barbarians inherently have impulse control issues, but the mage wasn't getting it. The only thing that did bother him about her, was that her 'demonic half' reminded him too much of the Furie, a spirit of rage that would randomly possess a barbarian and turn them into supernaturally frightening berzerkers.

Sargent Jorgensen was able to arrange for them to meet a mage to trade with, but it wouldn't be able to be done until the next day. Begrudgingly, he had other men assigned to watch them overnight after Joven traded other goods he had for several of the tools he needed. They were assigned an inn to rest at, one near the barracks where several dozen men could keep an eye on their movements. Joven paid for the rooms with coin, like any other member of Ironsoul, and he retired for the night, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. He was rather surprised that so many trained soldiers of Ironsoul, of their most militant Satrap of Ironsoul even, were extremely wary of just four people from Balator.

It made him think about how these people must see them.

He sat on the bed, able to hear the three Draugnoa chatting in the room next to him. He looked at the pack of bones he had to trade, and the one long radius that he was going to work on. He couldn't do much now, but he could test the tools on one of the smaller bones. He was worried that they wouldn't work on the incredibly hard bones the hydra had left behind. He could swear they hadn't been as hard when they had first encountered the beast; he had to have managed to cut between the tailbones back then.

He had been surprised that the most damage Endrance's familiar had managed to do to the bones was crack a few vertebrae at the exact spot of impact; but otherwise, flesh and tendon had given way long before it appeared the bones would. He started testing his tools on a smaller bone and was able to determine that he could work the bone, but he would have to be extremely careful not to ruin the tools. Even the Iron Satrap’s best steel seemed only on par with what he had to work with.

The next morning, he took the remainder of the bones to the meeting. The mage, a woman with pure white hair, but the body of a woman in her forties, was quite polite to him. She treated him with a civil tongue, though the words she used seemed arrogant. In the end, she took all the bones except the radius Joven had refused to part with; even the one he had damaged testing his tools. In exchange, she gave him a small trunk of coins. There were a few plain gold coins on the top, but most were rectangular tabs of gold, ornately detailing the number 100 across their face.

After the mage left, Joven turned to his Draugnoa and divvied out the coins. Each ladened with their own coin, they split off to handle their own supplies.

Their purchases were quickly handled, but Selene brought up that they hadn't purchased anything for Giselle, whom Endrance was being held responsible for. So it took hours to find a tailor willing to take the wolf girl's measurements, and to convince him to make some more clothes for the girl other than the one dress, which had gotten quite dirty and ratty around the edges in the short while she'd been with them. The tailor, a man named Enrique, was more than glad for the challenge, and even happier for the two gold tabs Joven gave him. The man told them the clothes would be ready by the next morning.

Jorgensen wasn't pleased that they needed to stay another day, but so far Joven and the Draugnoa had been as unobtrusive as possible, so his superiors were willing to let them stay the extra night.

Joven took the opportunity to get some work done on the bone. As he had been walking around the town, he noticed that some of the high-end drinking establishments used iron food troughs for the horses. After asking around, he was able to find and purchase one from the craftsman for a few gold pieces. The iron itself wasn't good enough quality for much else but horseshoes, but the shape and length were what Joven needed.