David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 139
🕑 Added 2025-03-27 23:49:44 +0000 UTCChapter 139: Shares
If she’d been at Whitehill or Coral Bay, Liv would have gotten back to running as a way to rebuild her stamina. Three weeks lying in a bed had left her weak, and it was frustrating how years of training could vanish between the moment she’d closed her eyes at the bottom of the Well, and when she’d woken on a bed in the upper levels of Akela Kila.
Since she didn’t know the city, Liv pushed herself up and down the great stone stairwells of the fortress, instead, or walked along the parapets of the outer walls, where at least a breeze stirred her hair. She and the other journeymen had arrived in Lendh ka Dakruim during early flood season, but sleeping through three weeks meant that Liv had to make the mental adjustment to being a solid month out of winter. In the east, that meant ever-increasing heat.
She didn’t know how the people in the city dealt with it: Liv felt constantly sweaty, whether she was exercising or not, and only her word of power provided any relief. Liv used Cel to lower the temperature of the water in the great bath, so that it was as refreshing as a mountain stream, rather than merely tepid. She used magic to make her cups of mango lassi nearly as cold as ice. When she was sitting on the steps that led up to the parapet, gasping for breath, Liv let the word wake in the back of her mind and chill the stone, spreading hoarfrost around her and lowering the temperature of the breeze.
In those moments, she sometimes wondered about the differences between her use of Cel, and the other two words. Lightning didn’t rumble overhead when Liv got angry. It took work and effort to build a spell around that word of power, and she hadn’t really had enough practice. Snatched moments on a lonely beach during a storm was not a substitute for the years of drilling and careful experimentation Master Grenfell had guided her through with Cel.
Perhaps the next time she saw her father, Liv decided, she would ask him. Or Keri - did he accidentally shed sunlight when he got upset? The idea was a bit ridiculous, and she couldn’t help grinning at the thought. Liv’s smile only went away when she recalled that they’d both intended to go to Varuna, and wondered when she’d actually see either of them again.
Wren walked with her, and once Arjun, but mostly he spent his time down in the infirmary. Three weeks had been long enough for most of the soldiers who had been wounded in the push to reclaim the landing to recover, but at a fort with this many people, there were always minor injuries or illnesses to deal with. He’d tried to tell her about some of the sorts of worms that got into poor children’s bodies through bare feet, and then lived in the stomach, and Liv had to tell him to stop.
By the morning of the third day since she’d woken, Liv felt, if not back to normal, at least well enough to travel. Repeated circulation of her mana, along with intermittent healing from Arjun’s spells, had turned the incisions along the backs of her arms and legs, and along her ribs, into little more than thin, pale lines. Rather than recent surgical wounds, they looked like scars from something that had happened years or decades before. She couldn’t see the marks on her back without Thora angling two mirrors, but as best Liv could tell they looked about the same.
Hastim had been arranged, to carry the three of them and their things down to the waystone, but General Mishra had sent one of his officers to first escort Liv, Arjun and Wren to his war-room, where the great table still displayed the map of the fortress that they had seen when they first arrived in Lendh ka Dakruim, a month before. The general rose from his seat, where he looked to have been slowly making his way through a stack of written reports.
“Good,” he said, looking the three of them over. “I wanted to see you all before you departed. First, because while I have already paid the appropriate guild fees to the other journeymen, you are still owed your shares.”
Mishra walked over to a sort of bureau or cupboard along one wall, where a locked chest had been set on top of the piece of furniture. Removing a key from some pocket inside his clothing, the general opened the chest.
“Śrī Iyuz,” he began, lifting a purse from within, “One share of a guild mage’s pay for culling a rift, along with the bonus for fighting on the front lines, rather than merely manning a fallback position. Four Lucanian gold crowns, two silver suns, and forty-two coppers. Healers pay, as appropriate for a member of your jati, with your level of training, another twelve golden crowns, roughly.” Mishra beckoned Arjun over, and handed him the purse.
“Journeyman Livara,” the general continued, once Arjun had stepped back, “I have two purses for you. With the death of Journeyman Tanner, you are now the culling commander for your team. I am giving you her pay, which it is your obligation to bring to the guild, so that it can be sent to her surviving family. A double share, for her time as culling commander, makes eight gold crowns, five silvers, and thirty-four coppers. Another twenty gold crowns are included as the standard compensation for her death.”
Liv stepped forward and accepted the purse. Thirty-eight crowns and change, for a girl’s life? Liv made more than that just from the pensions and wages she was paid by the duchy and the kingdom. It might be more than someone like a tanner made in a year of work, but it still didn’t seem enough. But she swallowed her thoughts and simply said, “Thank you.”
“A double share for yourself,” Mishra continued, “as culling commander by the end of your time here.” He handed Liv a smaller purse, without repeating the numbers, and she accepted it. Both of them went into the pocket she wore beneath her dress.
“For your bodyguard,” the general continued, “though it is not mandated in the guild contract, I have a month’s wages for one of my ksatriya. Four Lucanian crowns.” He handed Wren the final, and smallest, purse. “I have been as generous as I can be, within the bounds allotted to me,” the general said. “You will notice there is no compensation for items found within the rift. Until the spear of ksatriya is in our possession, nothing will be paid out for its recovery – but I assure you that I have made arrangements, and I believe that you will find them satisfactory. Ah, and one more thing. I am told that you requested a collection of recipes.”
Mishra lifted a small book out of the bottom of the chest, and passed it to Liv. “There you are. Now, on a personal level, thank you.” He looked from Arjun, to Wren, to Liv, his gaze lingering for a moment on each. “All of you have done far more than was expected. Śrī Iyuz, you dedicated yourself to fulfilling not simply the role of a guild mage, nor of a healer, but both. Kumari Wren, you did not merely keep your charge safe, you actively fought at the rift, though you were not hired by any contract with the guild. And Kumari Livara,” he said, pausing to study Liv for a moment.
“You did not merely help us to recover lost ground, or keep the men and women who fight for me alive,” the general said. “If Paṇḍita Sharma and my scouts are correct, you have saved countless lives that would have been lost in the years to come. If the dead never climb from the Well of Bones again, that is a debt that our land can never repay to you, and it is one that I will not forget. Should you ever have need of my aid, you have only to ask, and I will answer.”
“Thank you,” Liv repeated, but this time the words didn’t feel so hollow.
“Get on your way, then,” Mishra said. “Perhaps our paths will cross again one day, for a more peaceful and pleasant occasion.”
☙
The ride down the hill, sitting high up in the seats attached to the back of a painted hastis, made Liv smile. For a short while, she was able to recapture the feeling she’d had on first arriving at the city, and later upon walking through it with Vivek Sharma. The sounds, the smells, the colors, the way the people dressed and the animals and plants she didn’t even have names for – she could have believed that Lendh ka Dakruim was separated from Lucania by an entire ocean, not merely a chain of mountains.
“I’d like to come back here some day,” Liv told Wren, who was riding in the seat behind her. “Not to fight in a rift, but just to visit and explore. I want to learn the language.”
“The nice thing about living as long as we do,” the huntress told her, “is that you can. They may not have time,” Wren said, nodding her head to the second beast, where Arjun and Thora rode in another saddle, “but we will.”
“How long do your people live, anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.”
“As long as we get fresh blood,” Wren answered. “It’s only when we’re forced to go without that we start to age. But the blood can’t ever take us backwards - it can’t make us young again. Four months across the ocean, each way, between Varuna and Lucania - that’s almost a year that I’ll never get back.” She shrugged. “It adds up, eventually. And of course, we can always just get mauled by a jaguar or something and die in the jungle.”
“Are any of your people still alive from the war?” Liv asked.
“Not that I know of,” Wren answered, as they came within sight of the waystone. “Not many survived it in the first place.”
Vivek Sharma, along with a dozen ksatriya in full armor, carrying shields and weapons, waited off to one side of the waystone. Liv had to remain seated until the mahout commanded the hastis to kneel, and then she and Wren climbed down out of the saddle and approached the priest.
“Show me the sigil again,” the old man said, and Liv walked out with him across the expanse of white stone. When she reached the Vædic markings for the Tomb of Celris, she knelt down and touched them.
“Here,” Liv said. “It won’t take you to Kelthelis itself - my family lives well outside the rift. It’s located just at the top of a great chasm in the ice, which leads down into the tomb. The waystone is at the very edge of the shoal. It’s going to be cold; it might be snowing, and there will almost certainly be wind. I wouldn’t recommend staying long: none of your clothing is right for so far north. Unless someone’s come and taken it, the spear should be lying right there on the waystone.”
Sharma nodded. “We take the spear, and then we will immediately come back. Mishra’s men know the sigils for the return.”
“You’re likely to be attacked by something,” Liv said. “The mana-beasts around the rift are very aggressive. Wolves, bears, foxes, falcons. Be careful.”
“I have these strong young men and women to shield me,” the priest said, waving his hand to indicate the dozen ksatriya who had come to make the journey with him. Liv nodded, rose, and backed off the waystone. At Vivek Sharma’s words in Dakruiman, the soldiers filed onto the waystone, where they surrounded him in a circle of shields and weapons. There were even two of the women who served as archers, at the center of the formation.
At the old man’s touch, the circular white stone began to glow, and Liv counted to two-hundred in her head. A column of blue light rose up from the waystone in a flash, leaving nothing behind.
“One,” she said, under her breath, beginning the count again. How long would it take Sharma, or one of his warriors, to spot the spear? Unless Liv was wrong, and someone from Kelthelis had used the waystone recently, and taken it. But with her grandmother and father both gone, along with many of the warriors, Liv couldn’t imagine there was much travel in and out.
At the count of seven, the waystone began to glow red, warning everyone in sight to stay away from it. Liv tried to feel relief, but she wouldn’t be entirely at ease until the priest and all of his guards were back. “Maybe I should have gone with them after all,” she said out loud. “I know the place and they don’t. I could have helped to keep them warm, at least.”
“Actually, not going is one of the more prudent things I’ve seen you do,” Arjun told her. “You’re barely out of bed. He has a dozen ksatryita. They’ll be fine.”
Finally, in a flash of red light, Sharma and all the rest of them re-appeared on the waystone. They were covered in a thin layer of snow, and one of the men was sprawled out, motionless and bleeding.
In the priest’s hand was a spear of bone.
Arjun dashed forward onto the waystone, and with a muttered incantation, touched his hand to the bleeding man.
“It was a great hawk,” Vivek Sharma said. “Swooped down on us before anyone saw it. We heard the howling of the wolves, as well, but were not there long enough for them to come.”
“He’ll survive,” Arjun said, after a moment. “But he needs more attention than I can give him now. You should take him to the healers in the infirmary.” At a nod from the priest, two of the ksatriya lifted their comrade, and carried him off the waystone. Once all the soldiers had cleared the way, the old man walked over to Liv and her friends, the spear of bone clutched in his hand.
“General Mishra had something prepared for the three of you,” Sharma said. “Your compensation for the recovery of Ksatriya’s spear. I would call such a relic beyond price, and so we have chosen not to reward you in coins.” One of the soldiers brought over a trunk, and set it on the waystone, next to where the mahouts and Thora had already begun stacking their things. “Open it when you return to Coral Bay,” the old man told them, with a smile.
Liv stepped out onto the stone, and both Arjun and Wren followed. When she knelt down next to the sigils that would take them back to the college, Arjun placed his hand down on the stone next to hers.
“I can take us myself,” Liv said.
“But you shouldn’t have to,” Arjun countered. “I’ll help.”
“Fine.” Liv reached down into the stone with a small piece of her mana, and then the waystone came alive, like a hungry animal, pulling mana out of both her and Arjun ravenously. Blue light built around them, and once there was no longer a pull on her mana, Liv stood up.
“Until we meet again, Śrī Iyuz, Kumari Livara, Kumari Wren,” Vivek Sharma called to them. “May the lady of changes watch over you, and protect you through what lies ahead.”
Light obliterated the world.
Liv looked for her grandfather in the darkness, or Isabel, or even whatever was left of Costia, the Lady of Bones, but this time she heard no voices, felt no touch at the edge of her awareness. Perhaps all the ghosts had gone away.
The sun returned all at once, in a rush, along with the salt sea-breeze off the water. Coral Bay was nearly as hot as Lendh ka Dakruim, in the sun, but the wind off the ocean brought a bit of relief.
Before anyone else had moved, Wren walked over to the trunk from the general. “Come on, aren’t you even curious?” she asked. Liv, Arjun, and Thora followed the huntress over, and watched while she opened it. Inside were three pairs of boots, all made of leather, and embroidered with bright thread in intricate designs.
“Khapusa,” Arjun said, reaching down to run a hand over one boot. “People where them in the mountains, where you can’t go barefoot. It’s about the only place in Lendh ka Dakruim where people make Lucanian style boots. Everyone else just wears sandals or goes barefoot.”
“Do you see the sigils?” Liv asked, reaching down to pick a boot up. The embroidery was in threads of white and blue, and it reminded her of snow. Sure enough, a ribbon had been stitched onto the top with her name on it.
“What word is it?” Wren asked.
“Vefta,” Arjun answered. “One of the two words the ksatryia imprint. If I understand it correctly, anyone wearing the boots will be able to run faster than normal.”
“Like that boy I dueled,” Liv recalled. “Anson Fane. Hopefully not quite that fast. We’re going to need somewhere flat to practice, I think, so we don’t kill ourselves.”
“Still,” Wren said. “Useful. I’d say they’ve paid us for the spear.”
“Even three of sets of boots don’t come close to equaling the power of that weapon,” Liv said. “But, none of us actually use a spear. Even if we gave it to someone like Keri, it would only really be helping one person. And trying to keep it would have made enemies. I think we’ve come out of things better off.” Or at least, most of them had. Isabel hadn’t come out at all.
Liv looked up to the bluff where the halls and the campus could be seen in the distance. No one was waiting by the waystone for them; the professors wouldn’t have known exactly when they would arrive. A few townspeople passed by, going about their own business, but they were long since used to mages coming and going at the waystone.
“Grab as much as you can carry,” Liv said. “Maybe we can find a carriage on the way.” Between the four of them, they shouldered the trunks and bags they’d returned with, and set out toward the college.
Comments
Sébastien Kingsbury
I think she might be underestimating how much her mana grew from that stunt
John Koor
"the spear of stone clutched in his hand." -bone “People where them in the mountains" -wear “Useful. I’d say we they’ve paid us for the spear.” -remove "we"
Ulsar
tyfc
Grayson
Nice touch on LIz's instinctual use of Cel--it's her birthright...I'll be very dissapointed if Liz doesn't pick up more than 2 mana rings after this...
