David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 150
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 19:19:36 +0000 UTCChapter 150: The Watchful Guild of Magim
Within only a few days of the king’s proclamation, the campus was flooded with people.
The professors, journeymen and staff of the college had already been preparing for the arrival of a new year’s crop of students, but when the carriages began to roll out of the waystone down on the beach, now court mages from all across Lucania joined the procession through Coral Bay and up the road to ascend the bluff. Some new students – those coming from towns without a convenient waystone, or from families without access to the magic to use the ancient artifacts – instead came by ship, or overland.
Liv found herself taking shifts in the courtyard with the other journeymen, holding lists of names and room locations. Most of the incoming students had long since informed the school they were coming, and in those cases rooms had already been assigned in one of the three halls devoted to student housing. The gathering of nearly the entire guild, however, simply overwhelmed the school’s facilities.
“I’m sorry, magus,” Elenda Fisher was apologizing, as Liv threaded her way through the bustle and chaos, “we simply don’t have space to house every member of the guild who has come for the Conclave. I believe there may still be rooms for let at the Crab and Gull or the White Dolphin, just down the bluff.”
The man who loomed over Elenda was tall, at least six feet, with thinning hair that had been cropped close to his skull, a neatly trimmed beard and mustache, and spectacles perched on his nose. He wore a richly embroidered doublet, and a wand made from some sort of black wood on his belt. “Girl,” he said, forcing Elenda to look up at him, “I am the court mage of Duke Thomas Falkenrath. I will not be turned out like some common beggar. Make room.”
“Oh, then you must know Cecily and Thurstan,” Liv broke in, coming up on Elenda’s side. The girl flashed Liv a grateful look with her grey eyes.
“I’ll leave you in Journeyman Brodbeck’s capable hands,” Elenda said, and slipped off into the crowd.
The court mage looked down at Liv with a frown; his blinking eyes gave the impression he hadn’t quite caught up with the hand off, yet. Liv slipped her arm around his like a lady would do at a court ball, and silently thanked Julianne again for all of her lessons as she got him turned around.
“You’re an acquaintance of Lady Cecily’s?” the mage asked.
“It’s been a few years since I’ve seen her,” Liv admitted. “I think the last time was at one of Princess Milisant’s garden parties in Freeport.” All of which was true, of course, but it gave a much more intimate suggestion of the relationship than the truth: Liv had only met Cecily Falkenrath a handful of times, all six years ago.
“And what did you say your name was, again?”
“My mother’s name is Brodbeck,” Liv explained, maneuvering the distracted mage down toward the training ground and stables, and toward the town below. “But my full name is Livara Tär Valtteri kæn Syvä. I’m Duchess Julianne’s adopted daughter.”
“Well, it is an honor to meet you, my lady,” the older man said, a smile breaking across his face and his attitude immediately undergoing a change. “I am Nicholas Mortimer, of the Holmford Mortimers.”
“I hope that Duke Thomas and his family are well,” Liv prodded him, flashing her best smile.
“Well enough, though I think he would be better yet if his daughter were comfortably settled,” Mortimer said. Liv was pleased to see that he was the sort to be distracted by gossip. “Really, at twenty-six, to still be unwed. And you, my dear, have you taken the time to make a good connection here at Coral Bay?”
Liv shook her head. “There was a boy,” she admitted. “But that’s over now. There’s too much happening in the world to be distracted by such things. What do you think of the king’s proclamation?” she asked.
“The king is still a relatively young man,” the mage said, slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “Just forty-six this year, I believe. And as all young men do, he is full of energy and enthusiasm, to put his mark on the kingdom, and to change it for the better.”
“I can understand that,” Liv said, and it wasn’t even a lie. She saw the way Lucania was ignoring the threat of Ractia, and she itched to make them all listen. Perhaps if she was queen, she would be changing things as quickly as Benedict was. The difference, of course, that she would be doing it for the protection of everyone, instead of the chance to consolidate personal power. “Well, here we are. The Crab and Gull is one of my favorite places to eat, and they’re very good at preparing seafood that is rich with mana. I daresay you’ll eat better here than anyone taking meals in the great hall. I’m a bit jealous.”
The mage looked up at the sign of the inn, seeing it for the first time. “Very neatly done, Journeyman,” he said, with a sigh. “I suppose I was being a bit of a bear, wasn’t I? Very well. I’ll let you get back to your duties – I’m certain they’re keeping you busy.”
Liv curtsied, and then hurried back up the road to the campus.
☙
There must have been a dozen more interactions like that - not exactly the same, but of a similar tenor. Men and women who had spent decades practicing their magic, and who thought that they warranted a place to stay at the college itself. Liv helped to handle them as best she could, but she wasn’t always fortunate enough to find a personal connection with which to ease the way.
The court mages had the means to come quickly, and also the advantage of connections at the courts of the barons they served. They had word of the proclamation first, and then of the call to conclave that followed. The younger members of the guild, the culling mages who travelled Lucania from rift to rift, they came later, and in most ways Liv found them easier to deal with.
The culling mages brought their own tents and camped along the bluff, wherever they could find the space. There were campfires outside near the enchanting workshop, around the edge of the training yard, and nearly everywhere but around the stables. Some of the culling mages even camped down on the beach, north of the waystone and away from the docks, below the bluff on which the school campus rested. Someone had used magic to sculpt a long, winding staircase of stone up the bluff, though Liv couldn’t imagine it would be allowed to remain once the conclave was finished.
In addition to being younger than the court mages, the culling mages looked rougher, and carried themselves in a more relaxed manner. At night, they went drinking at the Crab and Gull, or roamed from campfire to campfire, catching up with their friends and comrades. When Liv saw them, her eyes roamed over their wide variety of enchantments with great curiosity.
Once all of the new first year students had arrived, however, her time was immediately taken up by supervising their examinations. As Archmagus Jurian’s apprentice, she was spared the headache of reading written exams: instead, she helped him oversee duels. It was a surreal feeling, to be standing in the same place that Gamel and the others had been when she arrived herself, only a short year before.
Through all of it, Liv waited for someone from Whitehill to arrive. She didn’t expect Julianne, of course: the duchess had made a promise not to come south, and she would keep it. But Liv had expected perhaps Triss, and certainly Master Grenfell to attend. And yet, the pace of arrivals slowed and then halted, and no one from the north came.
Liv was overseeing one of the magical combat duels on the second day when a royal carriage came rolling up the road from the town below, passing the training grounds and continuing up into the campus courtyard.
“That will be Genevieve,” Jurian said quietly, having come up on Liv’s side. “I’d recommend you avoid her, Liv.”
“She already knows who I am from the duel on the beach,” Liv said. “And what came after. I don’t know that there’s much point.” She was wearing the polished wooden comb from Al’Fenthia in her hair every day now, since so many mages she didn’t know had become a fixture of the school.
“All the same,” Jurian said. “I’d like to keep you out of this as much as possible.”
“What will happen?” Liv asked.
“I don’t know. Alright, that’s enough!” Jurian shouted. “He’s won.” The archmage hurried off to deal with two students who didn’t know when to quit, leaving Liv to her own matches.
Whether Archmagus Loredan had been waiting for the first year examinations to finish, or if he’d been holding off until Genevieve Arundell arrived, was not clear to Liv. Whatever the truth was, the conclave began the very evening of the royal court mage’s arrival, in the great hall where meals were served. The college servants were given a scant hour to clear the tables after dinner was finished, during which they removed the tables but kept the benches, and dragged in more seating from the library and ballroom besides.
At her first conclave, in Freeport, Liv had clung to Master Grenfell’s side like a drowning child to a piece of wood. This time, she sat with her friends: Arjun and Sidonie, Rosamund and Tephania. Even Elenda, Anne, and Brom, who she’d seen little of since returning from Lendh ka Dakruim, sat nearby, and to Liv’s surprise, Celestria Ward. They’d never entirely become friends, but apparently sheer familiarity from practicing together so often counted for something.
“There’s only six chairs at the high table,” Helly remarked to Florence, a row behind and to their right.
“Six chairs for six professors,” Liv called back, over the murmur of the crowd. “What else did you expect?”
“A chair for the new guild mistress,” Florence said.
The volume of the hall increased, voices echoing off the high ceilings and stone walls, as Archmagus Loredan led the professors down the center of the hall in one knot, crossing from the doorway to the high table. Each of the six took a seat, save for Archmagus Jurian, who remained standing at Caspian Loredan’s right hand.
“I still don’t see her,” Liv murmured.
“She isn’t the only one missing,” Sidonie pointed out. But before the other journeyman could explain herself, Jurian thumped the butt of his staff on the stone floor of the hall three times.
“Silence!” he shouted, his voice filling the hall as easily as it carried across the training grounds. From students to culling and court mages, the hall’s occupants settled. The ambient noise didn’t go away entirely – there were too many people breathing, shifting in their seats, moving their feet for that – but Caspian must have decided that it was close enough, for he rose, and Jurian took his own seat.
“Welcome, brothers and sisters,” the archmagus began, but Liv could not help but think that his voice sounded more tired than it had, six years before, when he’d so easily commanded the room in Freeport. “It seems we only all come together during times of trouble, and strife. No doubt you have all heard of King Benedict’s proclamation.”
A murmuring swept across the hall, but Liv kept silent for the moment.
“Since the time of the Blackstones, and the founding of this college, we have been led by those who earned their ranks through study, skill, and talent,” Caspian Loredan continued. “We have had archmages and chancellors, but never before a guild master or guild mistress. And never has the crown sought to influence how we selected our leadership.”
The doors of the hall, which had been closed after the entrance of the professors, opened now, and Liv could not help but appreciate the sense of timing. She was certain that the late arrival had been designed to make an impression.
Genevieve Arundell strode down the center aisle toward the high table, staff in her hand, but she did not come alone. A coterie of court mages followed in her wake, some of whom Liv recognized by sight, if not by name, from days of dealing with new arrivals. A group of students followed behind, as well, and three of those Liv certainly knew: Anson Fane, Arianell Seton, and Merek Sherard.
“I see that someone has neglected to provide a seat for the guild mistress,” one of the court mage hangers-on remarked, raising their voice above the noise that filled the hall. “Perhaps one of the professors would care to give up their own.”
Caspian Loredan had remained standing during this entire procession, and now stared down from the high table at Arundell and her supporters without flinching. “This conclave has not yet determined our judgement on the matter of a guild mistress,” he declared. Liv’s eyes flicked to Archmagus Jurian, who had not risen, but only stared intently at his former lover with a gaze hard as mountain stone.
“You intend to disobey a royal proclamation, then?” Genevieve spoke, for the first time.
“That’s a trap if I ever saw one,” Rose grumbled at Liv’s side.
“He’s too smart to fall into it,” Liv assured her friend.
“The royal charter granted to the Guild of Watchful Magim does not grant the crown the right to choose our leadership,” Lia Every said, rising from her own chair. “A fact you know very well, Court Mage Arundell.”
“The king’s authority is absolute,” Genevieve declared. “The crown granted the charter, and the crown has the power to modify it. Or to retract it.”
“No one here is disobeying a royal proclamation,” Archmagus Loredan said. “However, my nephew has presented us with an entirely unprecedented circumstance, about which there is much consternation and confusion. We are here now precisely to address this issue. If you would be kind enough to take a seat, Court Mage, we will continue.”
“If she sits with all the rest of us, she’s admitting defeat already,” Sidonie murmured. “It’s as good as saying the guild has the right to deny her.”
Genevieve stood facing the archmagus for a long moment, then extended her staff to the left and spoke an incantation under her breath. Chairs of gold mana, flecked with blue veins, were conjured into existence to the left of the hall, perpendicular to the rows of benches and the high table. When she marched over to the center chair and took a seat, it was like she was setting herself apart from the rest of the guild. Anson, Arianell, and Merek took places behind Genevieve and her supporters, standing at attention almost like castle guards.
“As I was saying,” Archmagus Loredan continued, “this is an unprecedented circumstance, the legalities of which are somewhat unclear. Professor Every, please take the floor.” Loredan sat, while Lia Every remained standing - and, in fact, moved out from behind the high table into the open space between the benches and where the professors sat, where she began to pace while she spoke, just as if she were teaching a class.
“The rights of the crown and the rights of the guild are clearly spelled out in our charter,” Professor Every began. “Which is, essentially, our contract with the kingdom. There are certain things that we give. Those of us who are noble born, for example, give up our rights of inheritance. We commit to answering the call to cull rifts. In return, the crown grants the guild certain rights in return – the building we are standing in, for instance, which would otherwise have been given to a new baron when the Blackstones died off. There is no legal basis for either party to this agreement to unilaterally change it without negotiation with the other party.”
A mage that Liv did not recognize, a woman with grey-streaked auburn hair, raised her hand. “Professor Every, is there any precedent for such a renegotiation between crown and guild?” she asked.
Lia Every nodded. “There is. The current Hall of Bricklayers and Masons actually came about due to a merger, which required substantial negotiations between all three parties, beginning in the year 1179, under King Benedict’s grandfather, Roland the Second. Those negotiations actually required nearly two years, and the ratification of a great council in 1181. That precedent suggests that –”
“The ratification of the great council is not required,” Genevieve Arundell broke in. “Nor the consent of the guild. A royal charter is granted by the crown, and may be retracted by the crown.”
Professor Every, thrown off by the interruption, struggled to find words for a moment. “Revocation is not change,” she said. “The two things are legally distinct.”
“Your argument, then, is that you would prefer the king retract the guild’s charter entirely?” Arundell said. “At which point a new charter will be presented to the new guild mistress. Of course, a new charter may not be as generous as the one which was granted at the request of the Blackstones.”
Professor Blackwood rose from his chair. “You’d destroy the entire guild if you can’t control it?” he shouted at Genevieve.
“Me?” Genevieve repeated, raising her eyebrows and pointing at her own chest. “Oh, no, I don’t recommend that at all. That was Professor Every’s legal advice - such as it is.”
“I sincerely doubt that King Benedict would wish to retract the guild’s current charter,” Caspian Loredan said. He remained seated, but his voice cut through the hall as easily as a scythe through grain.
“If he were to do that, after all, I would be back in the line of succession.”
Comments
Tarrim
You could certainly read Benedict as a Charles I equivalent. But I am skeptical we will are going that route.
Ike5421
Civil War is a coming. All of the pieces are in place Jullianne and the guilds against the crown. Ending in Caspian as King.
Ike5421
Epic chapter. I am vibrating with anticipation
