The Archmage unbound

Chapter 32

Marc arrived a half an hour before noon, just before we had finished preparing for lunch. We had bought some food on the way back, and Rose had tested her cooking skills warming it up while we waited.

Unfortunately her skills had not extended much beyond setting the table. Although we had bought nothing more complicated than fresh sausages and bread she had managed to burn the sausages while heating them in a pan. Thankfully she hadn’t tried to warm up the bread.

The experience had her more flustered and upset than I had ever seen her, since she was normally the epitome of grace and reserve. It had never occurred to me that her sheltered upbringing might have left her short on a few skills that most people from my own social background took for granted.

Although cooking was generally considered a woman’s art, most of the men in Washbrook knew the basics, and quite a few went well beyond that. Joe McDaniel was an excellent cook I happened to know from experience. My father had also been a fair hand with a skillet. I made sure to mention none of this to Rose as I helped to fix the mess.

Marc wandered into the kitchen as I was helping to cut the burned part off the sausages so I could reheat them. While they had burned in places most of them were still partly raw as well. As a result Marc had no idea that it was Rose that had burned the food. Obviously he never would have expected Rose to have tried her hand at cooking.

“What is that smell?” he observed upon entering.

I glanced at Rose before answering, “I got distracted and left the sausages on too long. They burned before I caught my mistake.”

He grinned, “And here you always bragged at being such a fine cook. You should have brought Penny with you. Now there’s a girl that knows what she’s doing behind a stove.”

Rose made her way past him, visibly agitated, “I’ll be outside. I need some air. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Marc asked after she had left.

“Aside from the fact that she was the one that burned the sausages, not much, idiot,” I told him.

He winced, “Ouch, I’ll have to apologize when she returns.”

“You know better than that, I already said it was me that burned them,” I replied.

He looked me over carefully, “Both of you seem awfully high strung today. What news do you have?”

I turned the sausage over in the pan to avoid repeating Rose’s mistake. I was grateful for something to do to disguise my reaction to his question. “Let’s save my news for after yours. I’m curious as to what you found out,” I said over my shoulder.

He paused at that and I could almost hear him thinking. He had known me for long enough to know when I was stalling for time. Finally he decided to ignore it and play along. “I’ve learned all sorts of interesting things this past week,” he began.

“Are you sure? It seemed to me that you were more focused on learning the ins and outs of a certain Doronic priestess,” I observed.

He put a finger to his lips as if in thought, “Doronic, I like that. It definitely has a certain ring to it. However you are still wrong, Marissa isn’t a member of the Doronite clergy.”

“She certainly seemed to have the proper calling,” I said. I was pretty proud of that one.

Marc laughed, “Actually I agree with you on that. She’s definitely grown on me. However the key point is that the Iron God doesn’t accept women among his exalted clergymen. There is also the small matter of her being a devotee of Celior instead.”

I turned and stared at him, “Wait, let me get this straight. You are impersonating one of the Iron Brothers in order to seek access to the Karenthian archives, while at the same time you are bedding a priestess of Celior. Do I have all that in order or should I be confused about a few more things as well?”

“More specifically, I’m a visiting priest from Verningham,” he corrected me.

“My pardon, a visiting priest… what name did you give them by the way?”

“Marc.”

“And you don’t think anyone is going to make the connection between your features and that name? You made quite a splash last year as the new channeler for Millicenth,” I reminded him.

“That’s why I chose Doron’s temple as opposed to that of Millicenth’s. Besides, I prefer using my own name, it simplifies all the lying.”

“How so?”

He made a serious face as if he were beginning a lecture. “First, it means I don’t have to worry about not responding when someone calls me from a distance using my assumed name and second, it makes the cut by satisfying my third rule of lying.”

We had had a few conversations like this one before, but I struggled to remember which rule was the third one. After a minute he took pity on me and explained without waiting for me to ask. “The third rule is that if a lie cannot follow rules one or two, it should be so preposterous or unbelievable that no one will doubt it. Using my own name is so silly that anyone hearing it will discount the possibility right away, since I would never use my own name to impersonate a priest, especially given my rather famous past.” He crossed his arms smugly as he finished.

“Remind me what the first two rules were,” I said blandly. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of laughing.

“Rule one was do not lie, or if you do, do so by omission. Rule two states if you must lie, always do so by including as much of the truth as possible,” he rattled off immediately.

“It worries me that you have these rules memorized.”

“You yourself are reaping the benefits even now. Since I disinherited myself you might consider hiring me as your spymaster general. I think I have a talent for it,” he said modestly.

“I won’t disagree with that,” said Rose from the doorway behind him. She appeared much more herself now that she had returned.

Marc bowed in her direction, “Thank you milady.”

“Back to what you discovered,” I prodded.

“Oh yes, that! Well after I showed my credentials from the chapter in Verningham the brothers were kind enough to put me up at the temple here in Albamarl and from there it…”

“Credentials?” I interrupted.

“A letter of introduction from Abbot Simon in Verningham,” he clarified.

“How did you get that?” I questioned.

He sighed audibly, “I forged it Mort. Are you going to keep interrupting every time I get going? It really drags the story out.”

“Sorry,” I apologized. I also made a note that Marc still had talents I had yet to discover after all our years as friends.

He glared at me for a second, then opened his mouth as if he were about to speak. When I said nothing he finally went on, “So from there I went to the temple of Karenth and presented myself as an itinerant scholar and gained permission to search the archives.”

I marveled at his brazen accomplishments, but I had come to expect surprises from Marc over the years. Before I could ask another question he went on, “So I began my search and I quickly discovered that the damned place is a maze of books and moldy scrolls. It would take most of my lifetime to search that place and I still might miss the information we’re looking for, so I sought out expert advice.”

Rose swallowed the piece of burnt sausage she had been idly nibbling at and broke in, “You mean you began sleeping with people.”

Marc gave her an indignant look, “Marissa is not people. She is a promising ‘light’ in the church of Celior, not to mention an accomplished scholar of history.”

Rose rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“Anyway, I met Marissa in the stacks, and it turns out that not many men share her interest in ancient church history. She was very pleased to share her knowledge and to help answer my questions as they arose,” he said somberly.

“If you were in the Karenthian archives, what was a priestess of Celior doing there?” I asked.

He pointed at me, “See! Now you show your ignorance. The archives are a resource shared by all four temples. The Karenthians are simply the ones in charge of managing it.”

“So what did you find out?” I asked impatiently.

Marc frowned. Obviously I was ruining his hard won tale. “Well if you want me to shorten things up, Marissa helped me do some research on the city’s early days, before and immediately after the events of the Sundering. Unfortunately there was very little of practical use recorded about Moira’s battle against Balinthor, other than the usual, she summoned a colossal giant of earth and stone that battled and eventually overcame Balinthor. Although she won there is no mention of her afterward, so I’m assuming she died during or shortly after the battle.”

I nodded, “That’s essentially true.”

He looked at me oddly. I hadn’t gotten around to telling anyone about my ongoing conversation with Moira Centyr, not even him. As it was I didn’t want to spoil his efforts, it had been hard enough for him to find a purpose after his depression. “Do you know something about that?” he asked me.

“Not much, but what you found agrees with what I’ve read,” I told him. Now there’s a perfect example of the subtle use of rule number two in lying, I thought to myself.

After a moment he continued, “What I did discover of importance, was that during the chaos of Balinthor’s war against humanity the Illeniel family moved something here of great importance. Something they didn’t want falling into the hands of strangers, or malevolent gods.”

I leaned forward. I was all ears now, “Go on…”

Marc smiled, “Apparently the early churches were all watching the remaining wizards carefully, particularly after the war was over. There are several missives detailing their activities, especially those regarding the Illeniel family. From what they could piece together it was suspected that something called ‘Illeniel’s Doom’ was moved to Albamarl.”

“If that were true then the most likely location for it today… would be here, in this house,” I noted.

“Assuming they didn’t have a secret storehouse somewhere,” Rose pointed out.

“True,” I agreed, though I personally doubted they would let something that important be kept away from this house. Usually the best protection a wizard can provide is his own presence. “What else did you discover?”

“The early clergy believed that Balinthor was primarily after Illeniel’s Doom, and that his attempt to wipe out humanity was merely a secondary goal of revenge.”

That was news to me. Moira had barely known of its existence, much less thinking it could be the dark god’s primary motivation. I would have to question her more closely later, for it appeared the priests of that ancient time had known more about the doings of the Illeniels than their fellow wizards had. “That will deserve a lot of consideration later, anything else?” I asked.

“Well I’m not sure if this is important, but it is certainly interesting. It seems the Iron Brothers keep a secret compound in the woodlands to the northwest,” he replied.

Rose spoke up, “How secret?”

“So secret that they’re hiding its existence even from the other churches,” he answered with a roguish smile.

“How did you find out about it?” I said.

“Purely by accident,” he replied. “If I hadn’t decided to stay with the Doronites I never would have known a thing. As it was I just happened to hear someone complaining in the dining hall one day and it piqued my interest, after that it was mainly a matter of paying attention.”

“Any idea what they use it for?”

“Not a clue,” he admitted. “They send a small load of supplies and sundries every few weeks and apparently those chosen for duty there find it exceedingly boring.”

I took a deep breath, “Well if that’s all your news I suppose I should bring you up to date on matters back in Lancaster.”

“Good, I’m tired of wondering what you and Rose have been so tense about,” he said mildly.

I glanced at Rose for support but her expression told me that this would be my tale to tell. I took another breath and jumped in headfirst, “Things went badly after I left Penny and Dorian in Lancaster last week. They were ambushed in the guest room they were given. Miriam was stabbed and she and Penny were both abducted.” Marc’s eyes grew round as I spoke, but he made no move to interrupt.

“Dorian gave chase and saved Miriam. I believe he nearly saved Penny as well, but they were surrounded in the forest by a large group of shiggreth and overwhelmed. He and Penny, along with almost all of the kidnappers are now dead, or worse than dead,” I finished.

True to his upbringing my friend kept his calm after I had finished. When he finally spoke it was to ask questions, which I answered as best I could. Over the space of a half an hour I related what had happened after I had found out, omitting my near destruction of everything and focusing on my rage and near murder of the surviving witness instead. I told him about Walter and my thoughts about his possible future usefulness.

When he had run out of questions and I had run out of things to add we both sat silent for a long while. Rose watched us from a short distance away. She had remained quiet the entire time. My guess was that she didn’t trust herself to speak on the topic yet.

After some time had passed Marc leaned back in his chair and looked at me, “You know what this means?”

I had some inkling what he would say next, but I simply nodded.

“There is a certain king that needs killing,” he supplied.

Rose leaned in, “Yes!” It was the first time she had shown any enthusiasm in the conversation.

I stood up and my nervous energy set me to pacing. “I agree with you, though he isn’t the only one, nor should he be the first.”

“The shiggreth?” he said questioningly.

I nodded, “They were already on the list but now they will be first. I want to save Edward for last.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because someone is talking to them,” Rose interrupted. “They should not have known that the King’s operatives would be escaping with fugitives on that particular day, and in that particular place. That means either they have spies in high places or someone has established some sort of alliance with them and is feeding them information, someone close to the King.”

“Exactly,” I affirmed. “What was a simple war of humanity against the creatures of darkness has now been complicated. Very likely someone on our side has thrown in with the forces of evil. We need to know who before we remove the King from power.”

I could see Marc’s mind had already caught up with us and he was working ahead to try and figure out the best course of action. “We need someone inside the palace,” he said finally.

“What were you saying about being a ‘spymaster general’?” I reminded him.

He shook his head, “In this case I’m the wrong choice, even more so than with the clergy I am too well known among the nobility.”

Rose agreed with him, “No offence, but even given Marcus’ exalted social standing; he was raised as country gentry. This will require someone with an intimate knowledge of the city and the people that call it home, particularly those in the palace.”

The two of them exchanged glances. As usual when it came to intrigue they agreed with one another. “You’re suggesting that you can find the information we need?” I said looking at Rose.

She smiled in a fashion that reminded me of her usual confidence, “Of course I am. Marcus needs to finish ferretting out the secrets of the priests. I suspect that he may be close to something that may be important.”

“Aren’t you too well known to sneak into the palace?” I said, bringing up one of the arguments Marc had used to rule himself out.

She raised her eyebrow again, “Why Mordecai, who said anything about sneaking in? Do you have such a low opinion of me? I will discover what we need to know through various contacts. I think it is not too far from the truth if I say that I know absolutely everyone important in this city, and if I don’t… I know someone else who does.”

A cold shiver went up my spine. Rose could be rather intimidating when she put a little effort into it. Then I realized I was the only one left without an assigned task. “What will I do to keep myself busy in the meantime?” I wondered idly.

Marc gave me a wicked grin, “You should check with my father. It’s been a few days; I suspect he’s got news by now.”

“What makes you say that?” I inquired.

“My father loves to hunt. I dare say he is nearly as knowledgeable in the forest as his master huntsman, William, and William is far from the only hunter in his employ. If he has not managed to trace at least some of them by now I’ll eat my hat,” he informed me with a certain amount of pride.

“You don’t have a hat,” I pointed out.

He groaned wearily, “It’s a figure of speech. Anyway, you’re so used to thinking like a wizard you forget that men are not helpless without magic. He won’t have been idle while you were here, but he may need your help when he finds them.”