David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 216
🕑 Added 2025-07-17 16:01:44 +0000 UTCPatreon appears to have changed its settings, and moved/hidden the option to attach files. For the moment I'm going to include google drive links to the epub and pdf and hope I can figure this out for tomorrow.
Epub: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1gHg0uFnfzI036wr3oXLao1CpIeWJ3Tdu/view?usp=sharing
PDF: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1yg2MfeFVcKFbDbMD7dLRvOHOmRtHF7ax/view?usp=sharing
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Chapter 216: Nightmares
The evening meal had long been over, and Liv had survived a very awkward pot of tea shared with not only Rosamund and her mother, but Archibald as well, by the time Wren finally arrived at Castle Whitehill.
The entire prospect of her mother’s marriage was not one that Liv had spent a great deal of time thinking about, and she certainly had no intention of regarding the steward as any sort of father. While she’d been terrified of ‘Mean Archie’ as a little girl, that time had long passed. Still, there was a certain distance that Liv doubted would ever be closed.
“That was painful,” Rose admitted.
Liv groaned into the other woman’s shoulder. After they’d said goodnight to Archibald and her mother, they’d both stripped down to their nightshirts and snuggled into her bed. “I don’t hate him,” she said, her voice half-muffled by Rose’s body. “But that doesn’t mean I want to spend time with him, either.”
“I’m pretty certain he was giving me some sort of evil eye,” Rose said. “I don’t think he approves.”
Liv raised her head to look Rose in the eye. “You think he figured it out?”
“You weren’t exactly subtle when you told everyone I could sleep in your room,” Rosamund pointed out. “It can’t have been very difficult.”
Liv rolled over onto her back and let her head fall onto a pillow. “That’s going to be a problem. Downstairs, the only thing better than gossip about other servants is gossip about the family.”
“They were going to find out sooner or later, Liv,” Rose said. “Or hadn’t you thought that far ahead?”
A knock came from the door to her sitting room, which swung open a moment later and revealed Thora’s face leaning in. “Wren’s here, m’lady. She says she’s found something out you’ll want to know right away.”
“Tell her to come back in the morning,” Rosamund groaned.
“No, if Wren says something’s important, it is,” Liv said. She sat up, swung her feet around to the floor, and crossed the carpet to the door. Despite her complaint, Rose was only a moment behind her.
In the next room, Wren was huddled next to the fireplace, rubbing her hands together so close to the flames that Liv wondered the hunter didn’t burn herself. Her ice-encrusted, soaked boots and cloak were piled in a heap in one corner of the room, and Thora must have dug out the towel thrown on top. It had clearly already been used on Wren’s wild mane of dark hair, which was now only halfway damp.
“I’m glad you're back in one piece,” Liv said, sinking into one of the cushioned chairs. “Thora, head down to the kitchen and see if you can bring up a fresh pot of tea and whatever leftovers can be spared. “Did you make certain my mother bottled the blood from those chickens?”
Thora nodded. “I’ll fetch that as well, m’lady.” She gathered up the wet things in her arms, then slipped out the door into the corridor. Rosamund sprawled out across the cushioned bench, but merely waited for Wren to speak.
“I found the raiders,” the huntress said. “They’ve got a camp between two mountains west of here, at the base of a waterfall. Forty, maybe forty-five scouts from Benedict’s army, under the command of that Baron Erskine. And there’s more.”
Wren leaned over, and Liv saw that she’d kept her pack aside. Now, the other woman loosened the ties at the top, reached in, and retrieved a white hunk of mana stone that had been engraved with Vædic sigils. “They hid this at one of the burned out farms I found. It’s not the only one - they talked about how they had two more to plant for Genevieve Arundell.”
Liv leaned forward and accepted the stone. She wasn’t worried about it hurting her; Wren had clearly already been handling it, and if she’d had the slightest concern that it would be a threat, she would never have offered it.
“Cei,” Liv said, identifying the primary sigil used in the enchantment at a glance. “It’s going to have something to do with dreams. How many of these did you say there were?”
“Not less than three,” Wren said. “And from the way they were talking, I wouldn’t be surprised if we found one at every place they’ve hit, buried beneath the ashes or some other place out of the way. They’re going to raid another farm, halfway between Whitehill and Fairford. There’s kids there, Liv. We need to get people down there to stop them.”
Liv closed her eyes for just a moment. It was clear that she was not going to sleep anytime soon. “Alright, then. I need Matthew, Master Grenfell, and Guildmistress Every at an absolute minimum,” she said. “And Sidonie. That list is probably going to expand as we go. Would you mind fetching them, Wren? We’re going to want Keri and Ghveris eventually too, I should think.”
“I’ll be right back,” Wren said, and headed for the door.
Liv turned to Rose. “You might want to dress,” she suggested. “This room’s about to get rather full of people.”
☙
There was time enough for each of them to pull on a robe - though Liv’s clothing was a bit snug and short on Rosamund, it would do in a pinch - before the people Liv had requested began arriving.
Matthew and Master Grenfell were first, followed by Thora with a tray of food, wine and tea. Lia Every arrived with Wren and Keri a moment later, then Sidonie in a night-robe, and it turned out that Ghveris had taken up a self-appointed position in the hall outside Liv’s chambers when she’d retired for the night. There weren’t quite enough chairs for everyone, so Rose and Keri each found a piece of wall to lean against. Wren immediately began tearing her way through a platter of cold chicken, potatoes, and a half-loaf of the morning’s bread, which was only just starting to get a bit stale.
“The most urgent thing,” Liv said, once everyone had gathered, “is that we know one of the targets the raiders are going to hit, and we need a group waiting for them when they arrive. It’s our chance to catch them in a trap, of course, but there’s also an innocent family at risk. So as soon as I’ve Wren and I have gone over the basics, whoever is going needs to head out.”
“It seems our enemies are led by Baron Erskine of the Strand,” Liv explained. “I imagine they’ll leave a force behind to defend their camp -”
Wren grunted, swallowed, and washed it down with a gulp of wine. “They’re starting to get sick. The baron and his son have got about forty scouts with them, but three are already ill from camping in the cold and the wet. Figure they can’t possibly bring more than thirty-five tonight.”
“Thirty-five scouts and two nobles with a word of power,” Matthew repeated. Liv could see that he was already calculating how many of their own soldiers would need to be sent.
“I thought that Keri and Ghveris might go along,” Liv suggested.
“If they’re willing,” Matthew said, looking between the Elden man and the Antrian war-machine. “Your help would be valued and appreciated.”
“They’re killing innocent children,” Keri said, with a scowl. “Of course I’ll go.” He pushed off the wall and headed for the door. “Wren, Ghveris, I’ll meet you in the courtyard once my armor’s on," he said in Vakansa.
The Antrian’s burning blue eyes looked first to Wren, then to Liv, his immense, armored head swinging to regard her. “With both Wren and I gone, you will be unprotected, Lady of Winter,” he rumbled.
“I’m in the middle of a castle full of soldiers whose entire job is to keep our enemies out,” Liv reassured him. “I’ll have Rose and Sidonie with me, among others. This is about the safest place you can leave me.”
The great, steel helm of the war-machine nodded. “I will go and face this baron, then,” he declared.
“I’ll send sixty men with you,” Matthew said. “It’ll take a short while to rouse them and get everyone armed and armored.” He stood.
“They’re going to have stones like this,” Liv said, holding the white, sigil-engraved mana stone up so that everyone in the room could see it. “It’s based on Cei, so whatever it does will have something to do with sleep or dreams. If you can bring that back, that would be good. Tomorrow we can send people to dig through the ruins of the Cotter farm to see if there’s a matching stone there.”
“Understood.” Matthew glanced around the room. “I assume figuring that out is what all the mages are here for.”
Liv nodded. “I imagine we’ll have an answer by the time you all get back.”
“Good enough. I’ll stop by mother and father’s rooms to let them know we’re leaving,” Matthew said. Wren crammed a last mouthful of food down her throat, tucked the bottle of wine under one arm, and stood up to follow him. Liv was amused to note that Ghveris very carefully scooped up Wren’s longbow and quiver of arrows, and carried them out the door in her wake.
“That leaves things a bit less cramped, at least,” Rose remarked, moving from her spot at the wall to the chair that Matthew had left empty.
Liv passed the enchanted mana stone to Master Grenfell, first. “What do you think?” she asked. “It reminds me a bit of your dreamstones, but not broken in half. It’s not meant to target only two people, though. It uses Ye Ceiētis - ‘you all dream.’ And I don’t recognize that word at the end.”
Sidonie accepted the stone from Grenfell, leaned forward to examine it with her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and spoke up immediately. “Merim. Nightmares.”
“You all dream of nightmares?” Rosamund asked, putting it all together. “We’ve only been here for a single evening, and it was spent up at the waystone. You all who’ve been staying here longer - notice anything strange?”
Grenfell shook his head. “No, but we wouldn’t. This sort of area of effect enchantment isn’t going to be able to overcome even the unconscious Authority of a young mage, nevermind someone with actual training in defending themself from hostile magic. No, this is the sort of magic that targets those with neither magic of their own, nor training.”
“The servants or the soldiers,” Guildmistress Every concluded. She turned to Thora. “Have you had any peculiar dreams, girl?”
Everyone in the room turned to regard Liv’s maid at once, which caused the young woman to visibly draw in on herself from the attention. Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor.
“Thora,” Liv said, as gently as she could, “You’d be doing us a great help if you could remember anything unusual about your dreams, the past few nights. Anything at all. And you’d be doing your part to protect the whole city, as well.”
“Here, have a bit of tea,” Sidonie said, rising from her own chair to pour from the pot. Once she had a steaming cup in her hand, she brought it over to Thora.
The maid took a long sip. “Thank you,” she said, then looked up from the floor. She met Liv’s eyes, but didn’t look around the room at anyone else. “I don’t often recall much, once I wake,” Thora admitted. “You know how it is; dreams fade. But - I have woken up a bit, the past few nights. A bit of tossing and turning, and I had a hard time getting back to sleep. I thought it was normal, with a war coming.”
“There is one dream I remember, though,” the young woman admitted, after a moment’s thought. “I don’t think it was last evening, but perhaps the night before? We weren’t certain when you’d be coming, m’lady, and I dreamed you’d all been killed on the road south from the waystone. There were wolves eating the bodies, and -” Thora shuddered. “It was horrible.”
“Thank you, Thora,” Liv said. The maid took two steps back and made herself small against the wall of the sitting room.
“One piece of evidence does not prove a theory,” Guildmistress Every declared. “We need additional testimony. I recommend we question the entire castle staff.”
“Not the soldiers,” Liv decided. “Matthew’s already mustering enough of them to ride south tonight, and the rest are going to be needed to keep a guard on the walls. The maids and footmen will have to do.” She stood up from her chair.
“We’ll do it in the kitchen; my sitting room won’t be large enough. And we’ll have to have them come in one at a time,” Liv said, thinking it through. “I’ll go and get Archibald, the steward, to help organize everything. Could the rest of you meet me downstairs?”
She waited only long enough to see that the others were nodding, and then headed out into the corridor, making for the servants’ stair. Thora hurried out after her a moment later.
“Here, m’lady,” the dark haired maid said, thrusting Liv’s wand at her. “I thought you might want this.”
Liv was actually of two minds about bringing the finely-carved length of bone down to roust sleeping servants from their beds - she thought that it might frighten them even more than was already likely. Still, now that Thora had brought it for her, the pommel was a comfort in her hand. “Thank you,” she said, keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself.
She knocked on Archibald’s door first, and the steward answered in a robe.
“We need to speak to all the servants, one by one,” Liv explained. “Perhaps Basil can help you get everyone in order.”
“No one’s stolen anything this time, have they?” Archibald asked in a sharp voice. Though she knew his glare wasn’t meant for her, Liv was surprised how many memories it stirred up.
“Nothing like that this time,” she assured him. “We think the enemy has been attempting to interfere with people’s sleep and dreams, but it's difficult to tell from only talking to a single person.”
The steward nodded. “Get yourself set up in the kitchen then, and we’ll bring them in one at a time.”
“Thank you.” Liv walked past the closed doors of the servant’s rooms, down into the kitchen, and took a seat for herself at the long table where she’d eaten all her meals as a child. By the time the two stewards were ready to proceed, Master Grenfell, Guildmistress Every, and Sidonie had joined her at the table, and Rose loomed behind them with her sword at her hip.
The first person brought into the room was Molly, the little blonde scullion who’d so shyly approached Liv when last she visited.
“Hello, Molly,” Liv greeted the girl, leaning forward and patting the chair she’d set up to face her and the other mages. “It’s good to see you again. Did Master Grenfell ever end up testing you?”
“I did,” Grenfell confirmed. “Four rings, which is quite good for someone her age. The Duchess has allowed Molly to begin taking lessons with me in the afternoons, once her work is done.”
“I’m going to learn magic like you,” Molly said, though she avoided looking at the people she didn’t know when she spoke.
“Would you like to hold my wand?” Liv offered. She flipped the length of bone around so that the pommel was just above Molly’s lap.
“Can I really?” the girl asked, and Liv nodded. Molly took the wand in both hands, and held it up so that the tip pointed at the ceiling.
“Don’t click any of the buttons,” Liv cautioned her, “or we might make a mess of the kitchen. Molly, have you had any bad dreams lately? Or have you had a night where you couldn’t sleep?”
“I dreamt the skin-walker from Gretta’s stories came and stole my skin,” Molly said, with a shiver. “And then he wore it around and left me tied to my bed with all my muscles and bones out. Is that what you mean?”
Liv shared a look with the other mages, and then sent Molly back to bed - after retrieving her wand.
“She’s got no Authority to speak of,” Master Grenfell said. “I’ve only just started teaching her to read Lucanian, never mind Vædic grammar. Count her as a non-mage.”
They called footmen, kitchen maids, stable boys, and everyone else the stewards roused in, one after the other, over the next few hours, late into the night. Some of them were more willing to admit their troubles than others, but given a bit of questioning, the pattern became obvious.
Sophie had dreamed of a monstrous infant ripping its way out of her belly - a nightmare that had brought back all her old feelings about being unable to have a child. Tom had woken, drenched in sweat, from a nightmare of being burned alive when Castle Whitehill was set to the torch by the invaders from the south. Melody, the dressmaker from Freeport who was now learning to be Triss’s maid, had dreamed of her lips being sewn shut with golden thread, so that she couldn’t even scream.
By the time they were done, there was no doubt in Liv’s mind what the enchanted stones did.
“Can you do anything to fix it, m’lady?” Basil asked. He and Archibald had joined the mages in the kitchen once they’d sent everyone else off back to their beds.
“Finding and breaking the stones would go a long way, I should think,” Liv said, looking to the others for confirmation.
“It’s a beginning,” Sidonie said. “And I’ve had an idea for a while now that might prevent this from happening again.” She placed her notebook on the table, turned it about to face Liv, and then pushed it across the worn length of wood.
Liv scanned the notes on the page, and smiled. “Sidonie,” she said, looking up and then passing the book to Master Grenfell, “is this a dream ward?”
