The Grim Company

A Precious Gift

Barandas rubbed at his tired eyes, yawned and glanced back down at the ledger he had been studying. The numbers had started to blur together. He sighed and closed the book, leaning back in his chair.

Moist lips brushed the back of his neck and he turned to see Lena watching him with a concerned expression.

‘You’ve been up all night. Again.’

He glanced out of the window. Night had given way to a grim dawn, iron-grey clouds plastering the sky from horizon to horizon. Droplets of rain crawled down the glass panels and pattered onto the stones below. The last couple of days had been nothing but incessant drizzle. After the public announcement that Dorminia was now at war with Thelassa, the depressing weather was oddly appropriate. The news had been received by the populace with all the enthusiasm one might expect. That was to say, none at all.

He got to his feet, stretching out the tightness in his back. Lena was still looking at him with worry on her face. He leaned forwards and kissed her quickly.

‘I’ll manage,’ he said. ‘The Marshal still isn’t fit to return to his post. While he is indisposed, I have a war to plan and the commissioning of new Augmentors to oversee.’

Lena shook her head in annoyance. ‘What exactly is wrong with Halendorf? You’d think he would be itching for revenge against Thelassa. After all, their assassins did try to poison him.’

Barandas yawned again. ‘He was deeply unsettled by his near-death experience. His acid is so bad he can barely rise from his bed, or so he claims.’

‘And Ardling? Is our Chancellor also indisposed by the recent attempt on your lives?’

‘I imagine the cost of a war with our neighbours has had greater implications for his well-being than all the excitement in the Grand Council Chamber.’

Lena’s expression became grave. She was in no mood for jokes, it seemed. Not that it was much of a joke. With the expense of the war with Shadowport and now this latest conflict, I’m surprised our Chancellor hasn’t committed suicide.

‘I have a busy day ahead training the new servants, and visiting textile merchants and seamsters,’ said his wife. ‘I will not have our new staff pay for their own uniforms, despite what Kyla and the others might say. What time will you be home tonight?’

Barandas shifted uncomfortably. ‘I will be at the Obelisk this evening. Lord Salazar has requested my presence. Don’t look at me like that, Lena! Many of the city’s magistrates are dead. It is only right that the rest of us do our duty. Especially in times of war.’

She sighed and eventually nodded. That was precisely why he loved her so much. Compassion, concern and then acceptance. You are my rock, Lena, tethering me to my humanity when this world would make of me a monster.

‘What of Legwynd? Have you found his killers?’

Barandas shook his head. ‘Not yet. They could have fled anywhere, perhaps even north to the Badlands. The mine, Lena… every man working the Rift was buried alive.’

‘Whoever did this must be brought to justice.’

‘They will be, when the Watch can spare the men to conduct a widespread search. In the meantime, we await our first shipment from the Swell. All this effort spent training new recruits will be in vain if we don’t have the raw magic to create more Augmentors.’

Lena looked up at him. The green crystal on the platinum chain around her neck matched her eyes. Even after five years of marriage, her beauty still took his breath away. ‘It suits you,’ he said, cupping the quartz in his palm.

‘You never did tell me where you found it.’

Her tone made him grin. She always told him he had a boy’s smile. ‘Where I found it? What makes you think I didn’t go to the finest jeweller in the city and have it commissioned for you?’

She raised an eyebrow in response. ‘As if you could tear yourself away from your responsibilities long enough to waste time buying pretty baubles for your spoiled wife. Really, Ran, where did you find it?’

His smile faded away. He remembered the gruesome result of Thurbal’s butchery flopping around in pools of blood, and the lurid glow of flames licking around the pile of corpses to reduce them to blackened skeletons.

‘Better you don’t ask,’ he said. ‘I appropriated it while doing my duty to Lord Salazar and the city. If you don’t wish to have it, I know someone else who might…’

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. ‘What, the goodwife or whatever it is she calls herself?’

‘The goodlady,’ he corrected her. ‘Truth be told I’m rather certain Cyreena will never make anyone a good wife. Though I suppose a man can but try…’

She tutted and he grinned again, pulling her towards him for a kiss. ‘I have to leave now,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how long I will be at the Obelisk this evening. Don’t wait up.’

‘You know me,’ she said, giving him a frown.

‘Yes, I do. And I wouldn’t have you any other way.’ He gave her one last kiss, and then went to wash his face and find something to eat before heading out into the relentless drizzle. He had a busy day ahead.

‘Keep your weapon up,’ Barandas instructed, launching a backhand swing at his opponent’s neck. He brought his longsword to a halt at the last possible instant, leaving the blade poised a hair’s breadth from the man’s throat.

‘Point taken, sir,’ said Gorm in a strained voice. He remained perfectly still. ‘I don’t suppose you could take your sword away now?’

Barandas lowered his weapon and stared across at the other man. Tall and thin, Gorm had the look of a clerk or accountant rather than a warrior. For all that, he was competent enough with a spear and had served in the Watch for the best part of a decade. He had been high on the list of men Halendorf had recommended for consideration. So far he hadn’t set the world alight, but neither was he the worst candidate Barandas had tested in recent days.

‘Tell me, Gorm. Why do you wish to become an Augmentor?’

The lanky Watchman scratched at his bulbous nose with a thin hand and cleared his throat nervously. ‘I want to serve his lordship and the city. Why else?’

Barandas blinked rainwater from his eyes. All around the small courtyard, men watched the spectacle with expressions of eagerness, curiosity or apprehension. A handful of Augmentors were among them. Thurbal stroked the pommel of his enchanted scimitar and smiled cruelly at the hopefuls. Garmond loomed near the courtyard gates, motionless, like a statue carved from obsidian in his light-devouring armour.

‘You say you want to serve our lord and Dorminia, yet is this not already your mandate as a man of the Crimson Watch? To become an Augmentor is to go beyond mere servitude. The magic that is bestowed upon an Augmentor links them to Lord Salazar in mind, body and soul. Are you prepared for that?’

The tall man appeared to think about this for a moment before nodding. ‘I guess I am,’ he said. ‘Do I get to choose what kind of magic I get? I always wanted a belt that made me as strong as a giant, like the one Kronin of Gharzia wore to repel the horse lords of the steppes in the time before the Godswar. My old grandpa used to tell me stories about it.’

Barandas sighed. So this one’s a dreamer, full of excitement at the prospect of carrying magic around. He glanced across to Thurbal. They aren’t as reliable as the sociopaths once the novelty wears off. Still, better a dreamer than an idealist. Those rarely last long.

‘The answer to your question is no,’ he said. ‘You will be assigned bondmagic that best complements your natural aptitudes.’

Gorm looked momentarily disappointed.

‘If I judge you worthy, I believe that a polearm of some kind would be fitting. There are several enhancements that could be made,’ said Barandas. ‘A lightning-emitting head, perhaps, or a shaft able to shape the winds to its wielder’s will…’

The Watchman immediately perked up. Yes. Definitely a dreamer.

There was a sudden commotion near the gates. ‘Get out of my damned way, Garmond,’ growled an irate voice. The huge Augmentor was blocking his view of the newcomer, but Barandas recognized the speaker immediately.

‘Let him pass,’ he ordered. He took a deep breath. This was going to be unpleasant.

Garmond moved aside. Rorshan marched towards him.

‘Commandant!’ he barked. ‘My magic’ — he gestured to the whip on the left side of his belt, then the dagger on the other — ‘has gone, and I feel like… like a part of me has died inside. Commission new bondmagic for me. Please.’

Barandas looked his erstwhile comrade in the eye. ‘Rorshan, you served Dorminia well for many years. Your bravery ensured the safety of our vassal towns and villages countless times. I mourned when I learned that our lord’s ritual consumed your magic. Of all the men I lost that night, your dispossession was the greatest tragedy.’

‘But I can still serve,’ said Rorshan. ‘I was on my way to Farrowgate to confront an abomination when I was summoned to the Obelisk. Replace these weapons and I will return there and do my best to protect the village — as I have always done!’ Desperation coloured his voice.

Barandas shook his head. ‘You ask the impossible,’ he said softly. ‘The binding spell can only be performed once. A second attempt will kill a man. It has been tried in the past, many times, and the result has always been fatal. I am sorry, Rorshan, but you need to put this part of your life behind you. I have recommended you for an officer’s position in the Watch-’

‘Fuck the Watch!’ Rorshan exclaimed. His grip on his weapons had tightened so that his hands had turned white. ‘You don’t know what it’s like. I can’t sleep. Sometimes I start to shake and it won’t stop. There’s a part of me that’s been ripped out, and if something doesn’t fill the emptiness soon I swear I’m going to make the bastard responsible pay.’

‘Easy, Rorshan,’ Barandas said. ‘You’re suffering. That’s normal when an Augmentor loses his bondmagic. I can help you-’

‘I don’t need your help,’ Rorshan spat. He tugged his weapons from his belt. ‘Fifteen years. I’ve been an Augmentor since you were barely more than a boy. Now you’re going to tell me that’s it? I’m finished? I don’t think so.’ He took a step forwards.

As Rorshan approached, Barandas felt despair threatening to engulf him. His sword weighed like a mountain in his hand.

He gritted his teeth. A man has to do what is necessary.

Suddenly Garmond was between them. He shoved Rorshan so hard that the man flew a dozen feet backwards. With a yell of rage, the ex-Augmentor leaped to his feet and charged at the giant. He easily dodged a massive right swing and flicked his wrist so that his whip snaked out and wrapped around Garmond’s other hand. He pulled.

Had the magic still been present in Rorshan’s weapon, not even Garmond’s prodigious strength would have been able to withstand its tug. The colossus would have been dragged forwards to meet the point of the dagger in Rorshan’s other hand — sharp enough to pierce even the huge man’s enchanted armour.

Instead, Rorshan stared with a helpless fury as his efforts failed to budge Garmond an inch. The giant Augmentor grabbed the slack part of the whip and pulled, heaving Rorshan towards him. Rorshan was too slow to react to the crushing hands reaching around his throat. They closed, and then they began to squeeze.

Barandas looked away. Rain hammered down, almost but not quite drowning out the sounds of a man being choked to death. Eventually the noises ceased. Around the courtyard men were silent, staring at the ground or the sky with troubled faces.

He looked at Gorm. The lanky fellow wore a shocked expression. ‘So,’ Barandas said. ‘Just to be certain, do you still wish to pledge your life as an Augmentor?’

Gorm opened his mouth, but no words emerged.

‘And how is your recruitment of potential new Augmentors progressing?’

‘Steadily, my lord. Sadly, a promising candidate declined us earlier this day.’

Lord Salazar waved a bony hand, dismissing the unfortunate news. ‘There will be others, I am certain. Keep looking.’

Barandas nodded. The events of that morning had shaken him. Rorshan had no family, but the Supreme Augmentor had nonetheless arranged an honourable burial for his old comrade. That was the least he could do, in spite of the manner of Rorshan’s passing.

‘My lord, we have roughly a thousand Crimson Watchmen,’ he said, finally daring to broach a subject that had been troubling him for days. ‘I believe we can muster another five thousand men of fighting age, untrained or poorly trained for the most part. That is a sizeable force, yet if reports are correct, Thelassa has contracted no less than three companies of mercenaries from Sumnia.’

The Magelord narrowed his eyes. ‘Then we must recruit additional soldiers from our vassal towns. Thelassa has no army to speak of, and its emasculated men are worth less than a Dorminian woman.’

‘Be that as it may, my lord, three thousand mercenaries will cut down untrained men like wheat. The warriors of the Sun Lands are renowned for their discipline and effectiveness. They will overwhelm us, no matter how many civilians we conscript.’

Salazar drummed his fingers against the sides of his throne. Barandas watched him in silence. The Grand Council Chamber felt huge and empty with only the two of them present. Timerus was still recovering from the poisoning, which he had survived only by spitting out the wine he had been about to swallow. Marshal Halendorf remained indisposed. Even the grey presence of Chancellor Ardling would have leavened the atmosphere somewhat.

‘We have no gold left with which to hire mercenaries of our own,’ said the Magelord finally. ‘The White Lady has gambled much on entrusting her war effort to Sumnians. I now regret not crushing Shadowport before Admiral Kramer’s incompetence sank our navy.’

Barandas nodded. Sumnians were celebrated warriors on land and in the native desert of their homeland on the other side of the continent, but they lacked any experience of maritime conflict.

‘I believe the Sumnian army will march soon,’ he said. ‘They know we cannot launch an assault. Not without a navy. The White Lady will be aware of your… forgive me, your weakened state, my lord. Now is the right time for her to make her move.’

The Tyrant of Dorminia narrowed his eyes dangerously. ‘I am not as weak as they suspect. Nor will I allow myself to be taken unawares again. The White Lady’s servants are skilled in the art of sophistry, but I am prepared now. If they dare intrude here I will kill them.’

‘Sophistry, my lord?’ asked Barandas.

‘A form of magic focused on subtle deception and mental manipulation. The Fade were masters of it, back when they roamed these lands. They could live unnoticed within a city for decades. It was but one of many racial attributes that made them so incredibly dangerous.’ The Magelord’s voice trailed off as he spoke, as if he were troubled by something. Barandas knew better than to push further.

Lord Salazar suddenly rose from his throne. ‘I must leave Dorminia for a time. I am owed an ancient favour, though calling on it will not be pleasant. There are some things that time can never heal. As I have learned all too well.’

Barandas was shocked at the sorrow in his master’s voice. ‘My lord… you are leaving the city? Who will govern in your name, with Grand Magistrate Timerus still unfit for office?’

‘I will not be gone long, Supreme Augmentor. I am sure you can manage in my absence. The Halfmage will assist you. He possesses a keen intellect as well as a certain cunning. Keep an eye on him.’

Barandas bowed his head. ‘I will, my lord.’

Salazar nodded. ‘I will detain you no longer.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Your dedication is appreciated, Supreme Augmentor.’

Barandas almost gasped. One learned to expect many things from a Magelord, but gratitude was not among them. For the second time in his life, he had been handed a precious gift by the master of Dorminia.