035 – Steven Plays Along, Caspian Does Not

Steven turned and watched, as four men were in the far side of the pit, looping rope to the paws of the critter, and pulling its corpse out. The head hung at a sickening angle, as she had torn most of the neck out the right side. Blood pooled on the dirt floor of the pit.

Steven felt a flash of nausea. He then stood up. He had been thinking about this all day, and had decided to pair his machismo and common sense together. He had kept his trousers on, but removed the rest. The crowd murmured in apparent approval, and some awe at his size. He pulled out his ka-bar knife, and slipped the loop off his ankle. He then stepped to the edge of the pit, and looked around.

The master of ceremonies stood to his side.

“She has explained things to you?”

“Some. I go in, and fight what ever you dump in with me. Neither is allowed to leave until one is dead.”

“Ready?”

Steven looked at the shorter man. “What am I fighting?”

“Dinner.”

A cage was brought forward.

“In you go.” A hand was put to the small of Steven’s back and gently pushed him forward.

Steven had been thinking about what they would toss in with him all day. If it really was dinner, then would he fight one of the local deer-like things, or a horde of the bunny like critters he and Caspian had been mostly subsiding on? On the other hand, canine was an acceptable dish in some places, and what looked like wolf and fox prints had been spotted. Or they might even have a taste for some of these more exotic predatory critters, like what Abey had just torn up. Or maybe a mountain cat equivalent, like Abey had mentioned fighting earlier.

Steven took one step forward, and landed in a 3 point crouch, knife held to the side. He watched as the cage was opened and tipped up. The absurdity of this suddenly hit Steven, and he tossed dignity to the wind. The wind threw absurdity back in his face, as a sheep was dropped in. The crowd all laughed at this, and Steven joined them.

“Mutton-bustin’.” Steven muttered under his breath. “I think I would have preferred a wolf.”

Steven shrugged, and walked forward. It took him several moments to corner and catch the thing; the crowd was laughing itself silly as he did. Finally, he caught the thing, and slit its throat wide. He then turned it over, and got ready to eviscerate it, but was stopped by a native. They took it out as Steven went over to the wall.

He jumped up and pulled himself up to sit on the wall, and then moved to the bench. Abey was still being tended, as her shoulder was worse than he had first supposed. She had a blanket over her right side, and across her lap, while her left side was exposed and the bite was being treated. Another person was painting the fresh claw marks on her back.

She looked at him, with mirth. Heedless of her partial nakedness.

“I expected a predator, for all your talk of valor.” Steven had a slightly bitter feeling. “It does not feel right to kill, and then not help dress it.”

The master of ceremonies heard this. “Then go do so.”

Steven looked at him, and then turned to Caspian, who just shrugged.

Steven got up to leave, and Caspian got up. Steven walked around the far side of the pit and started after the crew that had taken the dead sheep, his bloody knife still in his hand. Then the noise from the crowd changed.

He stopped to see what Caspian was doing.

Cyrril was on the bench, crouched on Caspian’s staff. In the pit, Caspian had not removed his boots or shirt, and he still wore all his weapons and other equipment. This got some derisive calls from the crowd. They dumped in another sheep. But Caspian caught it magically before it landed, and floated it back out. He then yelled in the native’s language. This was met by some unbelieving laughter.

So Caspian put his hands out in front of him. Steven could taste electricity in his mouth, which he was coming to associate with Caspian’s casting a strong spell. Suddenly three cages were floating over the heads of the crowd, and over the pit. The crown hushed, in wonder. Some in fear, others in anger.

The cages lowered to the level of the pit, and tipped over; three of the same critters that Abey had fought were dumped out. The cages then were tossed to the ground beyond the pit, as Caspian turned his attention to the critters. He reached around his left hip and drew out his bush knife in an underhand grip, and faced the three hissing and growling creatures as they got to their feet. Everybody went quiet as this outlander faced three.

Caspian was in no mood to prolong this, and he just did not want his nose rubbed in his perceived weakness. Where Steven had shown the good humor to play their game, Caspian wanted to win it on his terms. He yelled what the magic-users felt was a null-magic spell, which blanked out all the active magic in the area, and held it suppressed. Thus, he could not use magic to get out of this.

The three critters were evidently familiar with each other, so they wasted no time in picking out the danger among them. Caspian stepped toward the first, feinted a lunge that backed it off a bit; he then kicked the second under its jaw, knocking it aside as it swiped at him and missed. The third charged, and Caspian brought the knife in a low side sweep that got under its chin, and opened its throat up, as it leapt on him. Caspian let this carry him down, keeping it between him and the first one. It tried to snap at him, but he avoided its one try, while being soaked by blood. He let go of it and rolled to his left. His grip switched to overhand, and stabbed the second one in its throat and sliced down, killing it solidly. He then got up, and faced the first one, as it leapt off the body of the last. His knife quickly came up to the beast’s mouth, as his arms caught its paws, and they went over the body of the second. Its momentum was enough to carry it off Caspian as his knife, going with, all but cut its jaw off. Caspian rolled quickly to his belly, and to face it, as it got to its feet in obvious distress.

Caspian looked about quickly, and saw what he wanted. He got up as the thing stumbled a bit, but it was not paying attention to him. Caspian ran to one of the walls, jumped up, and grabbed the bottom of a spear that was being held by one of the pit-minders. He pulled it out of the startled man’s hands, and into the pit, quickly taking a proper grip. He advanced on the distressed creature, and poked it once to get its attention, then ran the spear home, putting the wounded creature out of its misery.

The crowd was thrilled by the blood sport, but distressed at how efficient this outlander had done it. And by what method, in general violation of their cultural rules. A stunned buzz replaced what had been a howling cheer previously. Caspian tossed the spear up to its owner, and picked up his knife, turning away from the three bodies.

Steven forgot about finishing his kill, and went back to where Caspian was climbing out.

“What was that?”

Caspian looked up to Steven. “That was playing their game my way.”

Caspian picked up the staff, and tapped it on the stone. The magic-users felt the spell that nullified the magic dissipate. This was to the healer’s relief, as he continued working on Abey’s shoulder. Steven could see now that her collar bone was broken, as well as her chest and shoulder muscles being torn and chewed.

Caspian kept a hold on the staff, and closed his eyes and spoke an unknown word. As if a squeegee was running down him, all the blood and dirt ran out of and down Caspian’s outfit, some rolled out of his knife’s sheath, and onto the ground at his feet. He then stepped to his seat and sat down.

Steven was a bit dumb struck. Caspian was always doing things his way, but he had generally abided the customs of the area, as he knew them. As Steven judged the reaction, Caspian had just turned off this village from anything more than a civil discourse with him. Steven looked around, as the master of ceremonies stepped up, and closed the evening’s festivities here. This as the handlers were getting the three critters out of the pit.

Steven looked at Abey, but she was busy with the healer. Caspian gathered his gear, and walked toward the lit town square. The Master of Ceremonies came over to Steven.

“Are you going to help slaughter your kill?”

“Um, I think it is already finished. Where can I go clean up?”

A woman was motioned over, and given instructions. She took Steven’s hand, and her children gathered his gear, and they led him away into the dusk. They took him to a trough and pumped some water for him from the well next to it. One of the older children showed up, and handed Steven what turned out to be a strong ash-soap. It quickly and efficiently cleaned things up. The children left, and the woman waited patiently while Steven removed his trousers. As he washed up the rest of the way, she took the trousers to the other end of the trough, and quickly washed the little bit of blood off them, and returned them, damp.

Steven got back dressed, and shouldered his gear, and followed the woman to the town square. He was toasted and hailed as he sat down next to Caspian. Caspian sat on the end of the bench, of the table at the end of the gathering. Cyrril was not in evidence. Caspian picked his way through a joint of meat, with a plate of vegetables in front of him, and a mug to the side.

Steven’s stuff was put aside, by Caspian’s and Abey’s. As that happened, a spit was brought across the gathering, and placed over a fire. Steven guessed that it was his sheep, from the size. As he sat, a plate with three kabobs of roast vegetables, and a mug was put in front of him by some servers.

Steven pulled out his folding knife, and began using it to eat. He sniffed the brew in the mug. It smelled of a slightly fermented fruit juice. He nudged Caspian. “What is this?”

“Local home-brew. Not much to it. It’s fine.”

They had already gone the rounds about alcoholic drinks in the first few days on planet. Steven kept some wine around the house, but only served it with certain cultural dinners, or cooked with it. Roxanne’s family did not drink alcoholic drinks in general, due to her father. Mike had a DUI-hit-and-run when he was in college that had scared him sober. When Caspian had deliberately tested Steven with some local moonshine in their first village, Steven had ended up dumping it in Caspian’s lap.

Steven enjoyed the vegetables, and was on his last one when a joint of meat was brought around.

“They want to know how much you want.” Caspian translated.

“How much is a serving?”

They carved a piece off. Steven looked at it, and then held up two fingers. They cut a second piece and put them on his plate. Caspian took one piece himself, and the servers went on.

“Other servers will be around with other stuff. Don’t fill up on just one thing.” Caspian leaned over, while holding the last of the joint in his hand.

Abey came past, her left arm in a sling. She was in just a toga at the moment, having other wise cleaned up. “And don’t be afraid to leave some behind. The leftovers are cleaned up and either stewed or fed to the hounds.”

Abey continued further into the group, to sit elsewhere. The children that had already helped Steven came and claimed him, and took him to sit with Abey, surrounded by more children and a few older ones. As Steven turned to sit to Abey’s left, he noticed Caspian had been brought with, and sat to Steven’s left. One little girl began braiding a seventh brain into Abey’s left side hair.

Steven finished his bite. “How’s the shoulder?”

“It should be completely healed in a day or two, thanks to his potion. But I need to salve the bite to keep it moist, and prevent it from going rotten.”

Prevent infection, Steven thought to himself, sensible.

“Wizard,” Abey asked across Steven. “Why did you do what you did?”

“I don’t like being the butt of jokes.”

“You wouldn’t have been. Didn’t you hear what I was saying to the crowd? For me, this was a rite of passage.” The little girl finished and disappeared.

Steven interrupted. “And what was mine?”

“A bit of fun, and a test to see how domesticated you are. That you wanted to go help slaughter it was a good bonus.” Abey bit into some roast vegetable.

“And what of his?” Steven motioned to Caspian.

“These people live by the hunt. What he did was not any sort of ritual, as mine was. His was a pure display of dominance. But, do you know what happens to rogue alphas?”

“They are driven out, and sometimes the pack turns on them.”

Abey nodded. “That is what he has branded himself.”

With Abey to translate and help Steven with the culture, he found he was enjoying his first real sit-down meal since arriving on planet. And there was the promise of plenty left over for them to take with. When Steven finally crawled into a borrowed bunk, he was well sated, and as relaxed as he could be.

036 – A Few Days Of Rest, Then Up The Next Mountains

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 26

Abey is hurt and I could use a rest. This seems like as good a place as any.

The next morning, they had breakfast, and then mulled around. Caspian wanted to get going, but Abey was not yet ready to go. Steven decided that they needed a few days of rest, and that these people were kind enough. So they stayed. Caspian busied himself with the local magic users, for as far as they would talk to him. Abey took time to get fitted for a leather singlet, and equipping herself with some local goods. Steven just found a good shade spot, watching some children, and dozed for a bit.

He was aroused by hearing a class of youngsters being drilled in some oral tradition. Three old men and one old woman were taking turns teaching the children their lessons. Two were recitation drills. One was evidently math, and the last was some kind of test on previous material.

In the afternoon, Steven helped clean up some of the debris from the night before, and was invited to try his hand at some hunting and stalking. Steven was mildly surprised to see a co-ed party, as he half expected to see it as men-only. Abey later explained that the party was chosen by skill, and need, thought there was a patriarchal undercurrent to the society. While the men took the lead in providing, the women were not discouraged from their own talents and skills, whatever these are.

They outfitted him as one of them, in a singlet and poncho, instead of his shirt. It was as big as their largest man wore, and was still a bit short for Steven, though plenty in girth. They passed on changing out his boots and BDU trousers. He got a head band and some face and arm paint. He impressed them with his stealth, for being so large. He took his crossbow out with a hunting party, and used it to bring down a local deer-thing.

Steven realized that part of the reason that he did not like hunting anymore was it was too close to what he had done in the Marines, as a sniper. His dad had taught him and taken him hunting as a boy. But once in the Corps, his hunting days were through.

Now, he slaughtered his kill, not as clean as the natives, but well enough to impress them that he had a grasp of the subject. That night, Steven and Caspian ate with one of the families. Not a feast as the night before, but just as filling.

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 28

Nice place to visit, nice people. But I don’t want to live here.

Abey showed up with her left arm still in a sling, but otherwise ready to hit the trail, after two days. She was dressed closer to the locals than she had been prior; wearing a leather singlet with her leather belt over a linen tank-top, and her trousers and boots. She wore a native choker of semi-precious stones intermixed with claws and teeth, with a matching arm band on her left bicep. A claw and a fang hung from a piercing each on each ear. Also there was now a dangle from each of the seven tiny braids on the left side of her head. She had a new roll of something added to her bedroll, tied to the top of her backpack. Her shoulder bag, full of food, hung at her left hip. Steven noticed a knife on the outboard side of her right boot.

As they walked, she detached and unrolled a new poncho, the new roll from her bag, and put it on. Steven realized this replaced the thinner fabric cloak her mother had sent. She also had her own sling and shot bag, now. Lastly she carried but did not put on a set of gauntlets. Steven had noticed several of the locals wore a fingerless gauntlet set when hunting, and presumed that this was a pair of the same.

Steven recognized Abey beginning to walk in an assured predator’s gate.

They talked some as they traveled about how to present themselves. The truth would do well enough, but might not be fully believable. The idea of passing her of as married to either man was briefly considered, then dismissed. None of them would be comfortable acting that part. Soon they settled on her being fostered to Steven. He was not sure he could fumble his way through acting as if she were his actual daughter; Abey likewise did not want to try too much artifice. But a fostering relationship in this area was one step removed from Master-Apprentice, and that was acceptable, as he decided to start helping her make a ghillie suit, and one for himself, just to see how much of that he could remember.

Traveling in the direction they were going, they had one more mountain range to climb, then ultimately down on to the coastal plains. Caspian was loath to admit that he had only traveled this way once, and had only vague memories of the specific layout. He did not even remember the names of the area. But he did remember the maps he had seen and the tracker held true. He just hoped he could find a good path over these mountains, and quietly hoped that Abey might be of help that way. Along the way, Abey realized that Caspian and Steven did not even know the names of The Kingdom, Dorston, or of the capitol city they were heading for, Veradale. The Jemed Highlands they had left as they climbed the Gulco Mountains was in the Duchy of Jemela.

Caspian had sheepishly admitted to not really being worried about names. “We are just passing through. We don’t need to worry about where we are, just where we are going.”

*          *          *

Roxanne had quickly realized that while the Pages were sent about on a first-come-first-served basis, there were some favorites played by both the staff and the pages. One girl had taken a particular liking to Rox and showed up more often than any of the others. In a free moment, she asked Rox to teach her how to fight. On asking, Rox learned that this girl was considered by the Guard instructors too young to teach, yet; also she had seen Rox practicing one morning. After being asked, when Rox had a free moment she would show the girl the basics of her style of martial arts. The Sorceress caught her doing this, and revealed that the girl was the daughter of a peasant, and therefore looked down on by some. She then scheduled a bit of time each day for Rox to practice herself, and teach this girl. The Sorceress even sat in to watch some.

In return the page-girl had begun to show Roxanne all around the Palace, and its adjoining buildings. From this Roxanne had realized this Palace Complex was on the first tier up the side of the mountains from the valley floor. Some of the towers and wings were tall enough to look across at the second and third tiers. Depending on the tower and viewpoint, she could see any horizon in any direction, save south. The north side of the palace crossed an outcrop that had nothing directly below it on the east or west, to the city below on the valley floor. She also learned the name of the city, Veradale, and the name of The Kingdom it was capitol of, Dorston.

Now Rox sat on a wall-seat she had been shown, watching The Queen’s return in a courtyard below. A guard stood nearby where Rox sat, pike in hand, observing everything.

Two closed carriages with a platoon of cavalry entered, followed by three open cargo carts. The cavalry moved off as the wagons turned in the yard and stopped by some stairs that Roxanne had learned led into the royal wing. Two women got out of the front one, the first stepping aside for the second. Rox guessed that the second was The Queen, by etiquette, as she could not judge their clothing from this angle. The second carriage pulled up to the official entrance and two men and two women got out and went into the wing where the throne room was.

Some porters attacked the cargo carts. Two chests were removed from one and taken into the royal wing. Another was taken into the office wing. The rest were left on the carts and they were taken out into the guard’s yard and out of Rox’s sight.

That evening, the Sorceress did not show up for the usual dinner practice. Rox asked the stewards what was happening.

“The Queen is returned, with the new Ambassador from The Kingdom to the south. There is a formal dinner tonight, and all the Ministers are required to be in attendance.”

Roxanne picked up and crunched into a vegetable slice. Then did what she would scold her own kids for, and while chewing said, “I guess it’s just as well I don’t rank that.”

The Sorceress returned late that evening, exhausted. She wore a green colored formal gown unlike any Roxanne had before seen, and several pounds of gold jewelry. A page came and helped Rox help The Sorceress out of her jewelry and formal gown. The Sorceress stood on a pedestal as she was undressed. Rox wanted to speak, but The Sorceress would not while the page was there. Once the main layers of the gown were removed, and the next loosened, The Sorceress dismissed the page. She still had an underskirt, girdle, flounce and whatever was under that. She had stepped out of her formal slippers as she mounted the pedestal.

“My assistant will be sufficient from here. You may report back to your superiors.”

The page bowed and left.

As soon as the door closed, The Sorceress seamed to sag under the weight of the foundation garment and petticoats. “I hate formal state dinners; so tedious.”

Rox started the conversation at the only place she could think of. “My Lady, is there something going on between the two kingdoms, or is this simply a changing of staff?” She continued to open the fasteners on the layered under skirt.

“There is a trade agreement being worked out. The Queen was there surveying their textiles and wool. We are offering both money and some minerals. They want what I think amounts to war material. As I understand, their neighbor to the south is getting belligerent.”

Rox got the last button opened, and The Sorceress held the under skirt up as Rox opened it and then slid it up and over The Sorceress’s head and put it carefully aside. “Peace through strength is good, so long as you have enough strength to show your neighbor it is not worth the effort of conflict, my lady.”

The Sorceress pulled at the strings for the girdle that laced up her back. “Yes. But in this case I think both sides are trying for peace through a first crushing blow. My concern is which side is really doing the provoking.”

Rox loosened the girdle up its length. The Sorceress relaxed visibly as it released. “My Lady, that is not anything I have any idea about, and I think not really my business.”

The Sorceress took a deep breath. “No, it is not.”

Rox pulled the girdle up and over The Sorceress’s head and arms. She still had a flounce and last petticoat, but other than that was down to a strapless shift. The flounce was quickly removed, and this bottom petticoat quickly followed.

Rox presented a dressing gown and the Sorceress tied its sash as she stepped down and over to a chair. Here she removed a pair of linen stockings, wiggling her toes as she did.

Rox felt a little apprehensive about what she really wanted to talk of. “My lady, what about what we have talked about, about The Queen and King? How does that go?”

The Sorceress wiped makeup off as she spoke. “I see The Queen tomorrow, and can start to talk about it then. So far all the girls are fine with it. The one with The King now is anxious to get out of the Palace and enter a religious order. I might be worried about that, except her family wanted her there from the start. The Trade Minister thinks an heir is fine. The Military staff all thinks it is high time for an heir to be appointed. The Lands Minister will be relieved, as he is wondering whether he might be carving up bits for new countesses. The City Minister has no complaint. The Church tells me they have already been bugging The King about this discretely, out of my earshot. It turns out they thought I was part of the problem. As far as my responsibilities, several of the women have left the harem over the years, and are married or have taken vows, or are in the diplomatic service. Others are almost useless downstairs, freeloading on the palace budget.”

Rox stood aside watching. “How is that, about the church, my lady?”

“Most of the church endorses marriage. The part that does not is celibate and usually in a monastic order of some kind. They tolerate harems, so long as there are no troubles about them. But they figured that I was continuing to supply new women to The King to keep him away from his wife, not at her request. I think I have begun to smooth that over, but will need to proceed carefully. I gather that they have also begun to press The Queen, but I am not certain. If they have not yet, we may be able to ally over this.”

Rox watched and guessed that there was more to what The Church had said to The Sorceress, from the way she talked about them as much as from what she was not saying. But again that was not Rox’s business.

038 – Formally On Display

The Sorceress joined the procession as it started out of the suite. She wore a dark green gown with her full set of regalia, demarking her station. Rox had seen her wearing this necklace and collar set once, but had been forbidden to do anything about helping with it. They marched to a formal dining room, flanked by a quad of guards.

The walls of the room were the same color white to light grey as the rest of the stone that the palace was either carved or constructed from. The columns rose up to vaulted arches supporting the roof, four stories up. Every third column all the way around the perimeter had a medium sized fireplace within, half with fires in tonight. From the entrance, the room was longer than it was wide; with stained glass windows on the three sides the doors were not on. The room had several straight tables at the far end, and the same number of round tables at the close end. Stewards’ tables lined the outer edge, with stair wells going down between the walls and the tables.

Several people were already sitting at several tables with the stewards bringing up food from below. Roxanne was escorted to a round table and instructed to sit. The Sorceress was escorted to a seat at one of the straight tables. The Court began to arrive. As The King and Queen arrived, everyone stood. They were shortly followed by the Ambassadors from each of the southern countries. As the various ministers and guests arrived they were announced, and shown to seats, but otherwise the conversations continued. Assorted Traders and Merchants from the local communities and other countries were seated at the table where Roxanne was.

As the dinner progressed Roxanne felt herself under scrutiny. These merchants were interested in her origin and antecedents, in a polite manor, but once they realized that she was a slave in the palace, and of no real possibility of selling or buying large quantities, they dismissed her from the conversation. Roxanne listened carefully; most of the conversation was about buying and selling. A third of the guests were local. The other two thirds were divided between the two southern kingdoms. They mostly talked of trafficking in the local silks, foodstuffs, and salt.

Roxanne would later be told that she was watched by the guards to see if she recognized any of the people there, or if they recognize her. The conclusion reached after consideration what that Roxanne only knows those she has met, and none of those here appear to recognize her. Either she was a very good spy, unknown to any of those here, or totally honest in being from elsewhere and not involved.

Once the dinner was done, Roxanne was approached by a steward and quietly told that she was dismissed and to return to her suite. Rox glanced briefly at where the Sorceress sat in conversation, and then stood and excused herself, and was escorted down the closest stairwell. Linell waited down in this kitchen area, and guided Roxanne back to her suite. Linell then helped Rox undress from the formal gown and hang it on a dummy that had been left by the tailor. Roxanne then got to wait. Linell departed to go off duty.

The Sorceress came back late and simply sent Rox to bed.

*          *          *

The second day out of the native village Abey felt good enough to remove the sling. The Healer’s magic had repaired her broken bone and torn up muscle, generally, but she had to be careful to get it back to full strength, and not over stress her shoulder too quickly. She would keep the scars on her left collar and shoulder from the mauling she took, as well as the light scratches on her back. But with the salve the healer had given, she was healing quickly. She applied it apparently at need, and had a little bag of it that she drew from.

As they tracked across the highlands to the mountains, Abey and Steven decided that hunting and keeping the pelts might be a good way to earn some keep. At their insistence, Caspian went with them off the main road Abey had brought then along, and back onto the game trails. In this instance, these were a bit out of the way, where prior Caspian had been following them as the shortest path. Abey soon proved as good with her sling as Steven did with his crossbow. Abey drew the main duty of tanning the hides, as Caspian had no knowledge of how and Steven was ages out of practice. Their little bundle of hides soon began to grow. The ghillie suits were abandoned incomplete, as they were deemed too impractical.

*          *          *

The next morning, Linell woke Rox with instruction to help her bathe and dress. Rox was to attend court, as The Sorceress’s assistant. The Tailors returned while Rox bathed in the cold water and quickly made a set of formal outfits for Rox to wear. These were essentially the same as the Sorceress’s costumes, but in a light blue color instead of the green the Sorceress wore. Roxanne sat in a chair off the side of the dais behind the Sorceress. Mostly she just got to sit and watch.

One thing that Rox watched with some interest was the interaction of The King and Queen, and The Sorceress. Mostly The Sorceress sat aside and watched herself, speaking only when spoken to. The King plowed through issues quickly, passing some things to The Queen to handle and pass a decision, and plowing through others himself. The ministers came and went according to the business they had to do. Rox noticed that there was a pair of guards who sat and watched her, and only her. The King quickly moved through the other mostly domestic business, and then called in the Ambassadors to discuss the trade treaty. Roxanne listened, grasping only the general principles, but was quickly out of her depth for particulars. After a few moments, she only paid polite attention. They stopped the discussion for lunch; one of the guards who watched Rox spoke briefly to The Queen, who in turn spoke briefly to the Sorceress. Just before lunch was brought in Roxanne was dismissed from Court, and escorted from the office wing, then left to get back to her suite on her own.

Roxanne returned to her suite, changed clothes, and set about her chores. Just before dinner a procession arrived. The Queen and The Sorceress were escorted by eight guards. Once the women were within the suite, two guards turned aside to stand in the corners of the hall and the rest departed, closing the doors to the suite.

Roxanne stood at attention in the doorway of her room. The Sorceress looked at her, smiled, spoke a word and waved her hand. Rox felt the magic in the chains and their bands on her arms and legs dissipate.

The Queen relaxed. “You have leave to speak and act freely.”

Rox looked at the women. “Are you joining us for dinner?”

The three women sat at the table chattering as friends do. The guards stood at the corners of the room, flanking the doors. The stewards came up the stairway and served the women, and also gave some to the guards. Roxanne sat and watched old friends talk as only old friends do. Roxanne had again explained and told her story, this time to The Queen.

“Did you see their livery or symbols?” The Queen had a keen interest in the kidnappers.

Roxanne had to shake her head. “No. If I did, I do not remember. I spent most of my time with them half awake, or less.”

“I am left to wonder who it was. That circle has attracted travelers of all kinds. The Kings of the kingdoms around it have long since stopped trying to manage what there is of that.” The Queen evidently knew more about that circle than Roxanne would have guessed.

Roxanne paused, letting The Queen control the conversation.

“I suppose I have to apologize. My husband included your arrival in his correspondence to me while I was out of the palace. He was concerned by the timing of your arrival that you might be a spy. It was easy enough to leave you in the charge of The Sorceress until I could return. We needed to see if you knew or were known by any of our . . . neighbors. We brought you to the dinner last night and to court this morning to test their reaction to you and your reaction to them. Had you recognized them, or they reacted to you, there might have been more reason to be concerned. Now, we see that you are most likely not known, or a good actor. Besides you were dismissed before we got to the real meat of the issues.”

Rox considered this. “I accept your apology.”

The dinner the rest of the evening drifted to other conversation topics. The one Rox wanted to ask about was never brought up.

Several days later The Sorceress shared breakfast with Roxanne. The treaty had been signed the night before. As the conversation continued, Rox looked for an opening to ask about the one issue that did interest her.

The Sorceress was quietly amused and slightly embarrassed. “The Queen has been home for about a week. In that time, The King granted a dismissal to his last harem-girl. The Queen has insisted on his time, and his bed. I have not mentioned it to you, but I wrote to The Queen once I had the church lined up.”

The Sorceress looked around conspiratorially. “I have realized she had been going into The King on her own over the years, and she was gratified at the idea of having him all to herself again, if even for a little while, as he might think for now.”

That afternoon The Sorceress took Rox into the city. They went shopping and on other personal errands. Rox learned that her gold slave chains actually had a significant social status, as she was from the Palace complex. As they went, the Sorceress mentioned for the first time that Roxanne had a bit of funds at her disposal. This surprised Roxanne, but she did not have much need to spend just now. Rather to save it to buy her own freedom.

039 – Pactical Magic And Fight Training

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 38

At last, a high mountain range. Got to watch for late season avalanches.

Rox entered the work room to clean it, and found bits of cord and string laid out on the work table, arranged by size. Yesterday had been an extensive conversation on what The Sorceress called resonance. Part of the summary was that material things had a kind of memory about them that magic could use; for instance small bits could be used to magically emulate the effects of having and using the whole, spells could be transmitted from one bit of a broken thing to another bit of that broken thing. A previous lesson was that many times small bits of stuff were used to focus the mind, and better organize the energy of the magic. Rox guessed that today would be a drill on using the bits of cord to magically emulate the whole cord, or to put magic on one part and pass it to another.

As Roxanne swept the room, she came back to the dressing mirror under the silk cover. The Sorceress had essentially confirmed that, while being itself magically inert, the mirror was used in some of her spells from time to time, including looking at things a distance away. She had yet to teach Rox how to do this.

Rox wanted to try to see Diana and Alex with it, as well as Steven. But still did not yet know if she knew how to do so. She felt that she began to understand feeling the energy, ‘mana’ The Sorceress called it. Then forming the idea in her head, clearly, of what she wanted to have happen. The problem she kept encountering was that she kept jumping over intermediate steps to the conclusion. The Sorceress was trying to teach her all the intermediate steps, and the why's, not just the how's. So the desire to see had to wait.

A secondary issue in the lessons had to do with The Sorceress herself. Her specialties and perceptions were focused in energy. She always in every lesson stressed control of energy, which for her was easy from practice, and also a necessity. For Rox, this was more a lesson in focus and management. In the theory lessons, The Sorceress had mentioned that a disciplined practitioner could both control the flow in their own use, but also the control of others flows of energy. One could control the direction and volume and block this flow. This could be used to dispel spells, or patterns of energy, or to create spells, or patterns of energy. These patterns ranged from destructive, through neutral, to empowering.

After lunch, The Sorceress came and began first by drilling Rox on the types of cord she had. Each was made of a different fiber, and good for specific things. This Rox already knew, if only innately from growing up, and what Steven had taught in their time together. As expected, they drilled both on using the bits to emulate the whole, and on using the bits to pass energy on to the other parts.

But this part of the lesson went quickly, and then The Sorceress went into an explanation of what the cord bits could be used for, as ingredients of more complex spells.

She then had Rox collect a few ingredients from prior lessons.

“Now, hold them in your hand. What are they and what are they for?” The Sorceress had moved Rox to the middle of the room.

Rox looked at the bits. “Fine fiber cord, elastic, good for climbing. A small metal hook, good for securing things. A bit of resin, good for making things sticky. A bit of thread, good for binding things together.”

“Good. Now look up. See the ring. That is your target.” The Sorceress pointed at a ring secured to the keystone of the vaulted arch two stories above them in the center of the room.

“Now, pull together the mana; using the objects and ideas about them create a climbing line: a grapnel at the end, the cord secured to it and tied closed by the thread, and tacky enough to hold onto via the resin.”

Rox concentrated chanting quietly in the language she spoke with The Sorceress instead of English, she gathered energy, feeling it flow as a trickle of tingling through her, and focus and swirl around in her hand, going through and organizing in the four things in her hand. She had a question, and almost lost her concentration. “Do I need to physically toss it?”

“Only if it helps to actualize in your mind. Otherwise you just need to shape it as there with your mind. Let it draw as much mana as it needs, don’t try to force it, just be a conduit.” The Sorceress stood face to face with Rox.

Rox focused, felt a flow of mana-energy through her, and there the line was, large enough to comfortably wrap her hand around, hanging in front of her from a hook in the ceiling. It glowed slightly, and tingled in her growing sense of magic. She noticed that the thread, resin and cord were gone from her hand, but the hook remained.

“Now, climb it.” The Sorceress backed off, giving Roxanne room.

Rox dropped the hook as she took the rope in hand, and felt a tingle rather than the rough surface of a fibrous rope. A rational part of her mind was telling her that this was impossible. But over the last weeks that part of her mind had increasingly been put to silence. Rox took the rope in both hands, and pulled her feet off the ground, then pinched the rope between her feet, and reached up to pull again. As she went to release her second hand, to start up in earnest, Rox felt her concentration slip, the energy of the rope dissipate and she fell a short distance to land on her feet, and collapse to sitting, hard. Her back hurt briefly from landing on the stone floor.

The Sorceress gave Rox a moment to collect herself then asked “What happened?”

Rox got to her feet. “I am not sure. I started to climb, and then the spell dissipated.”

“Were you concentrating on the spell, or on climbing?”

Rox thought a moment. “Climbing, my lady.”

The Sorceress nodded, remembering her own struggles in school. “That is why you fell. You let go of the spell and it ceased.”

Rox rubbed her rump, aching slightly where she had landed hard.

The Sorceress moved back to the table, trying to decide what to do next. “You needn’t worry to hard yet. This is a lesson that I had to go through several times as a school girl, before I was good enough at dividing my attention to keep a spell going and do something else. Like juggling, eventually it gets to be natural.”

Rox picked up the hook from the floor. “How high did you get?”

“The first time I did it, I did not even get to where I could fall. It took a month of practice before I could get my own height off the ground and keep the spell going. After that, I got to the bell the instructor had set up. There was one girl in class who realized she was afraid of heights, and broke her leg falling from that high after getting up there.”

Rox put the hook on the table. “My lady, where did the cord, thread, and resin go?”

The Sorceress “You noticed. Good. Most un-living organic stuff disintegrates as a spell is cast through it. The best theory is that it looses it physical cohesion as its pattern is put into the spell. Metals and most rocks don’t. It is figured it has to do with the way the matter is organized in it, and that stone and metal was never alive.”

Rox though about this. “Metal is essentially a crystal; I suppose stone is similar, whereas the organic stuff is a cellular arrangement. I guess that if something is alive, it has energy to draw on to maintain its form? So while the cellular stuff can be rearranged by life, metals and stones are not rearranged thus. So the magic disintegrates the organic in copying its pattern, but not the inorganic.”

The Sorceress nodded. “That is the theory.”

Roxanne turned and leaned against the table. “You have taught me a bunch of fundamentals, how to do a handful of house keeping spells. I cobbled together a spell on that jar that reassembled it to its base, wherever the bulk of it was, though that has dissipated. I just climbed half my height up a magic rope. What else do I need to know to use that mirror?”

The Sorceress turned to face the mirror, under its cover, putting aside the other idea that was not forming despite her efforts. “You want to see your kids.”

”And if possible, my husband.” Rox almost stepped toward the mirror.

The Sorceress thought for a moment. ”The spell I have just taught you, about the rope, is a second year student’s spell. Using the mirror is something that many adults can’t do correctly. But you are determined. How much do you know about light?”

Rox sensed meaning more than the surface in this question. “Insofar as its interaction or governing by magic, I can’t say that I know anything.”

The Sorceress smiled. “Admitting your ignorance is always a good start. I do not have the spells to use it as you wish memorized. It will take me some time to find where I have them written. Tomorrow, after your chores, you may look through my index…”

Rox interrupted. “My lady, I have not been taught your script. While I can read and write in my own language, I cannot in yours.” Rox felt her own hopes smothered as she said this.

The Sorceress, unused to being interrupted watched as Roxanne slumped. She started again. “Perhaps so, but if I write out the characters surely you can compare them.”

The Sorceress watched Roxanne perk up a bit, at this. “Now, about light…”

The lesson went on for a while, and Roxanne learned several new ideas, and a few old ones that she had always considered to be preposterous or new age mumbo-jumbo.

*          *          *

Caspian, Steven, and Abey hunted their way through the mountains, keeping as many pelts as they could. Steven lost three bolts, but managed to take down and harvest the local equivalent of a deer. This had required making a larger frame to stretch the hide on, and a travois to carry the usable meat. This was all a bit awkward to carry. As they crossed the highest pass of the range they encountered snow, and a brief spring snow storm. This only caused discomfort rather than actual hindrance. When it was time to camp Steven and Caspian would build a lean-to and all three would huddle under it keeping each other warm in their blankets and accumulated scrub.

They descended into the foot hills and the farms, and warmer climate, a bit dirty from their traveling. They kept the pelts and other usable pieces of what they harvested to have something to sell. After a day of travel past the farms, and small villages, they approached the outer walls of a city.

*          *          *

When Linell next showed up for her lesson, she had a black eye, and favored her right foot. Rox took her to task for this.

“Well, there are a few bullies in the older pages.” Linell acted like all children telling something that she was afraid she was going to be in trouble for.

Rox stood with her fists at her hips, waiting. “And?”

Linell tried to melt into the floor. “At lunch yesterday, one of the older ones tried to bully one of the younger ones.”

Rox waited patiently. Linell did not want to say more.

“Don’t the Guards or people in charge of the Pages, or other stewards move to stop this?” Rox asked, not knowing anything about how this might be handled, or even where the Pages took lunch.

Linell shook her head. “No, in some cases the bully’s are recruited by the army, or navy. Others simply graduate from the pages and go home, as we all will when old enough.”

“So how did you get a black eye?” Rox asked patiently, practicing the patience she had learned dealing with her own children.

But Linell did not want to tell.

“Were you the bully?”

Linell moved her head in what Rox had come to recognize as the negative answer. “No. the bully tripped my little brother, so I stood up and slugged him. The bully’s friend hit me then, knocking me into the table. I got back up and kicked him. Then the Page Master came and had to pull me off him. I was told that if I get in another fight, I will be sent home.”

Tears were starting to well in the girls eyes.

Rox put her hands down and knelt, to look at the girl closer to eye level, and wrapped her in a hug. The girl went formally stiff, and Rox let go, and let the girl move back to arm’s length.

“What happened to the bullies?” Rox let go of the girl, who seemed more comfortable standing in front of her.

“The one that I kicked had to go see a healer. The other just got up and was told to leave me and my brother alone.” Linell seemed a bit more relaxed, since Rox was not trying to punish.

Rox looked at Linell. “So, do you want to learn how to block punches, so that you don’t get hit in the face again?”

Linell had sore forearms when she left.

040 – Local Bullies

Late that morning after completing her chores, Rox paged through one bound volume of The Sorceress’s books, looking for a set of characters that matched a set on a piece of paper that had been left for her. Rox recognized it as an alphabet instead of pictograms, and thought this was very helpful. That The Sorceress had said her index was chronological instead of alphabetic was not. After an hour of looking, she finally found the set of characters, and set the book aside, slipping the paper into its pages with the end sticking out. Rox left the work room, to prepair for lunch.

As she walked the hall, Linell was dragged into the wing by the Page Master, as the stewards showed up for lunch.

He was an average sized man, of no build whatsoever. Rox was glad no one here seamed to know what a comb-over was, or this man might have one over the top of his bald head. She was annoyed that he seemed to look straight ahead at her breasts as he spoke at her. He kept one hand fastened around Linell’s wrist.

“Linell tells me you are teaching her to fight.” His higher pitched voice fit Rox’s already formed stereotype of the man. He reminded her of Diana’s math teacher

Rox smiled. “Yes, I am. Where I am from I teach this to many children her age.”

“Do you teach then to pick fights and start brawls?” His clipped tone amused Rox.

“No. I teach then to avoid them when they can; win them when they can’t; and stand up to the bully while protecting the less able.” Rox kept herself as conversational as she could.

She looked at Linell. Her knuckles on her hands were raw, and one was bleeding. She had food smeared on her uniform, and some in her hair.

“Has Linell been in another fight? Was it the same bully or some of his thug cronies?”

The Page Master tried to puff himself up, the volume of his voice rising as well. “None of My Pages are thugs.”

Roxanne did not know the full power structure or arrangement of things in this palace. Nor did she really know how much trouble she was or was not causing by teaching Linell. But she did know that bullies were a fact of life, in whatever form, and that she would always stand up to them, and help others to do the same.

“Of course not. Children are never that way, unless taught to be aggressive, are they?”

He started to get more upset. “That is not your concern, or the issue. You will stop teaching Linell how to beat up on the others.”

“She is not teaching Linell to beat up on the other Pages.” A new voice did the equivalent of throwing a bucket of ice water on the Page Master. He turned suddenly.

Roxanne turned to the doors of the wing. The Sorceress stood there flanked by two of the Palace guard.

“My Lady.” Rox said in greeting.

The Sorceress strode forward with four other pages, all young boys, in tow behind her.

“Mistress Harem,” the Page Master squeaked out, surprised to see her here.

The Sorceress strode forward. “Master Page.”

Rox realized that The Sorceress was taller than the man.

The Sorceress looked Linell over, as she stopped, placing the Page Master in the middle between herself and Rox. Linell smiled the uncomfortable smile of one hoping a champion has just arrived.

“Master Page, you wish for my apprentice to stop teaching young Linell to defend herself from bullies?” Her tones were of one asking a simple question to a child.

“Yes. This girl had been in two brawls in as many days and …”

The Sorceress interrupted him. “Did she win?”

“Two other pages have needed healing…”

“Did she start these fights, or were they in response to bullying?”

“As far as I am concerned, she started them, and now…”

“I see.” She stopped his rant before it could get up steam. “And your side of the story, young lady?” The Sorceress looked at Linell, dismissing the Page Master to silence.

“Three of Toby’s friends tried to attack me with their lunch plates. I kicked one in the knee, then slugged the next, and hit the third in the face.” Linell slightly smiled.

The Sorceress stood slightly taller. “Master Page, this is not the first complaint against Toby that has come to our attention. Does this need further attention from The Court, or will you be dismissing him yourself?”

The Page Master stuck his lower lip out in frustration, and clenched his jaw. Then finally he spat out some words.

“As you wish.” He started to stomp out, dragging Linell roughly.

The Sorceress stopped the Page Master with her voice again. “Master Page, Linell stays. There is need of her here, now.”

He threw her wrist out of his grip and stomped away. The four pages behind the Sorceress scattered out of his way. The Sorceress turned a stern eye on them.

“Not one word of gossip, or I will have it out of your hides, boys.”

They all looked at her smiling. Collective “Yes, Ma’am’s” were followed by the four young pages scattering into the palace.

The Sorceress took a breath and blew it out. “I’m going to hear about this later.”

She took Linell in tow. “Apprentice, let's get this young lady patched up and fed.”

Roxanne performed some healing magic on Linell, under The Sorceress’s guidance. The Sorceress turned this into a lesson on healing magic. Her hand was closed up with the two dislocated fingers reset. The black eye was accelerated in its healing, as was her bruised foot.

Linell joined them for lunch, and was as formal as The Sorceress in her manors. As they talked over lunch, it came out that Toby was the Page Master’s nephew, and had become a careless trouble maker who had been shielded by the Master. As for the three cronies, two could be reformed once Toby was away, and the third was wanted by the Army.

*          *          *

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 41

Finally, some proof we are going the right way.

On entering the city the three first took their hides and leftover meat to the proper merchants and sold them for a tidy sum. After cleaning up in a public bath, they decided to split up and do their shopping separately. Abey went after food and other provisions. Caspian would take Steven and show him some better quality weapons, also more expensive. Also to see whether there was anything else for him to change out of his costume.

At one stall Steven found a weapon smith, and a larger crossbow. After some bartering and haggling Steven was able to trade up to the better crossbow. This one was closer to a size that fit Steven’s frame.

As Steven walked away, he realized that the purse he had carried on his belt was now missing. A quarter of his local money was gone that fast. Steven quickly shook himself briefly, taking stock of the weights in his coat and on his back, then turned and stepped to Caspian at another booth, in irritation. Steven stopped and stood by Caspian.

“I’ve just been robbed. My purse is gone.” Steven kept his tone as conversational as he could.

Caspian nodded. “Right, lets get out of the way and check over the rest to see if anything else is.”

The two men moved through the throng and into a café, then around the side of the porch between buildings. Steven put his crossbow onto the table, and then he unbuckled his backpack straps and swung it off. Next was his coat. Steven looked through the bag, and nothing was missing. Then he went through the coat, and there was nothing missing from it. He patted his belt down and nothing else was missing.

“Anything besides the one purse missing?” Caspian looked around, and did his best to block out prying eyes.

“No. Just the one purse. All the rest is still here.” Steven picked the coat back up and put it on, and settled it. Then he put the bag back on, and settled it.

“Well, teach me to leave my money visible,” Steven remarked dryly, as he shouldered his new crossbow.

They walked out into the street, and continued their shopping. A light misty rain swept past, as the afternoon moved on. Caspian and Steven were in a minor hurry to meet Abey at the town gate. She had volunteered to get the food, as she found Caspian’s cooking passable, and Steven’s just too rough.

As they crossed a market, they passed a few wagons, with a cage attached to one. Caspian just kept going past the group. Steven glanced, and almost came to a stop, staring at the locked cage with five naked people. He took a few steps farther and saw some rings and other things on a merchandise table. One of the rings glinted and caught his eye, causing a double take. He stopped, and took a closer look. The two platinum bands, one with a medium sized diamond set low into the band, the other matching snug against it.

“Wait a moment,” Steven muttered.

A man stepped up to Steven’s side, as he picked up the rings and turned them over. There was that one rub mark…

“Can I help you?” the voice from his left said.

Steven turned to face a well dressed man. He was about Steven’s comparative build and almost his height, with thick dark hair graying at the roots, and tied into a tail. On his belt he had a small purse, a ring of keys, and a knife. Steven quickly understood what this man’s employ was, and found himself offended by this man, and the idea of a slave trade.

Caspian stopped short, realizing that Steven had stopped. He turned around as his magic senses blazed telling him something important was about to happen. They rarely did this: Caspian’s talents were more of the artistic and technical magic’s; he could sense when things had been used for magic, or been the target of it; people casting magic within a certain scope of distance always got his attention, and so forth. Precognition and its related fields were not usually in his scope, though like all practitioners, he was subject to particularly strong happenings. This was one.

Caspian approached and reappraised the arrangement of the situation. The trader had three carts in a row; the one on the far left as they were faced had the slave pen attached to it. On the other end was one with a merchandise table. Caspian guessed that, as he had not seen any other slavers in this city, this must be the only slaver in the area. Therefore this was the most likely person for the bad guys to have sold Roxanne to, had that been the actual disposition of her.

Steven had some rings in his hand looking them over then looked up, as a man of reasonable size with a salt-and-pepper ponytail and mustache, and rough looks, stood to his left.

“Yes.” Steven held the rings out in his palm. “Where did you get this?”

“Why do you ask?” He moved to take it back, but Steven closed his hand to prevent this.

“Because it is my wife’s wedding ring.”

Caspian took hold of Steven’s arm, and turned him from the merchant, to face him. Caspian addressed Steven in English. “Give me the rings. I will take care of this. Get out of here.”

“But,” Steven started to protest.

“But nothing. You will cause a scene we don’t need. Trust me. Give me the rings.” Caspian held his hand out, still holding Steven’s arm with the other. He spoke evenly, but his countenance had visibly hardened. Cyrril had reared up from his lounging, and fanned his wings a bit, hissing in agitation.

Steven looked at Caspian, and back at the merchant. Then put the rings in Caspian’s hand and scowled. “I want these back where they belong.”

Steven stalked away, carrying a cloud of anger with him.

Caspian put the rings down on the board with the rest, and Cyrril dropped down to crouch on the board and held on to the rings.

Caspian waited for Steven to be out of earshot. He then turned to the merchant.

“How much for the rings?”

The merchant’s eyes twinkled a moment, as he sized up Caspian and also Steven’s reaction. “How much are you willing to pay?”

Caspian glanced briefly around again. Then lunged at the man, grasped him under his jaw with his left hand, and pinned him against his cart, his toes off the ground. The man’s hands went to Caspian’s hand, trying to pry it loose. Caspian finished his muttering of a spell feeling energy flow from his staff, and across the man as he spoke.

“I will pay you your life, your livelihood, and fair market value for the set of rings. Is that agreeable?”

The man pried at Caspian’s hand a bit more, gurgling a bit, so Caspian thumped him against the cart once.

“I asked if that was agreeable!”

The man looked like he wanted to snarl a bit, but couldn’t say anything. Caspian knew that he had not yet won the bargain so he continued to hold the man.

“I can keep this up for some time. All you need to do is say ‘yes’.” Caspian’s staff turned to point under his left arm at the man’s wife who was approaching from around the wagon.

--Stand there, ma’am. And be silent-- Caspian said this in Elfish. Then changed back to the local language. “Your husband and I are bargaining.”

She froze in her tracks, unsure of the situation, but wanting to help her husband. However, she found that she could not use her legs, or her mouth.

Caspian turned back to the man. “What is fair market value of that set of rings?”

The man struggled a bit, and then seemed to give in. “Fifteen in gold.” He still tried to pry at Caspian’s hand to no avail. But Caspian was not trying to choke him. Just hold him there.

“All right. I will give you sixteen in gold for the rings.”

At that, Cyrril took the two rings, and flew away.

“Now. Tell me what you did with the woman you took them from.”

The man gurgled a bit more, as he tried to get Caspian to let go.

“It’s no use trying to lie, or get me to let go. Just tell me what I want, and I will be on my way.”

“There have been several women.”

“Yes. But you would remember this one. She would be very tall, and slender. Almost half-elven in features and frame. About four or five weeks ago.”

The man struggled a bit within himself. Caspian noticed his wife thinking a bit, and then nodding at her husband. The man spoke again, sounding a bit strained at having a hand at his throat. “She was given in tax. To cross the boarder.”

Caspian plopped the man down to his feet, and let go, and stood his staff up, releasing the woman.

“Thank you.” He then reached into his purse, and pulled out a handful of gold coins. He counted and dropped these into the board that the rings and trinkets were on.

“Eighteen, for your services.” Caspian then walked away as casually quick as he could.