The Archimage's Fourth Daughter Page 2

  The strange one adjusted his swathing for a moment. “Some have already done so, but not yet all. Some still remain.”

  “If they have remained in captivity for so long, then why not accept the situation for what it is?” asked the wizard seated in front of Briana. “Not bother to check on how they fare anymore?”

  Randor hesitated a second time. “Because,” he said at last. “Because there is a possibility, however slight, that the sorcery might wear off. The skill in the arts by the Heretics might eventually return. Return gradually, and then, using magic, they might escape.

  “The natives of the orb are quite backward,” he continued. “As far as we have detected, they employ none of the arts at all. So, evidence of a large enough use of the crafts by the Heretics before they had regained their full power would be a trigger — a trigger to take more drastic action against them. The chances are small, but all of us that remain are too… too engrossed with other things to continue with the task.

  “And so, here is our proposition. Moving among the natives will be no problem for your kind. That is one reason why you have been selected. All we ask you to do is to check periodically for evidence of any incantations, charms, or other spells, and then do what is necessary to snuff out the practices.

  “Catch the banished as they emerge. It will be easy enough using the mature proficiency of your own crafts. In exchange, this magic portal is to use according to your own desires. In an instant, you will be able to travel across your great ocean for a meeting such as this. Send crops or even men-at-arms to wherever they are needed with but a few steps anywhere within our entire realm.”

  “But the writings say only a single person can use the portal at one time,” Briana burst out. “To transport an army would take days.”

  All the masters in the room turned to stare at Briana, now very well aware of her presence. “Oops! Sorry, Dad!” She blushed.

  Alodar frowned, but chose for the moment to ignore the interruption. He returned his gaze to the bundled visitor.

  “If what you say is true, this portal has great power,” he said. “Great disruptive power for any society using it —  perhaps a curse rather than a boon.” He looked at the masters seated around him. “Is this truly what we want? Is it any better than a bargain with demonkind?”

  “It is most ingenious magic,” Randor said. “The door at one end of the portal is in our realm  — our own universe — yours and mine. Although the traveler is unaware of it, the central portion of the device travels through the realm of demons while preventing any contact with the vile beings who dwell there. There is no bargaining with them involved at all.”

  “The path then loops back to a destination of one’s choosing — possibly even one that we could reach by other means,” Randor continued. “By placing the two entrances properly in our realm, we can connect them to what seems like mere paces apart, a shortcut regardless of how long the journey might otherwise be.

  The two doors do not even need to be situated on the same orb within our realm,” Randor plowed on. “I come from my home to your earth here. We desire you to travel from here to yet a third orb in the sky.”

  “Yes, I understand it now,” an alchemist said. “The opportunity to explore. A chance to visit other worlds, exchange formulas and harvest exotic ingredients that here are rare.”

  “Trade and exchange,” a thaumaturge chimed in. “Murdina could become the commercial center for our entire universe. We all would prosper. This Randor says that their internal politics are no concern of ours. I agree. The chance for great benefit is too great.”

  “Progress cannot be stopped, Archimage Alodar,” Fordine said. “One way or another, each step forward has to be addressed, and undesirable consequences dealt with when they occur. As you and this high council have done many times before.”

  Alodar was silent for a long while. He lowered his chin onto his chest to think.

  What decisions her father had to make all the time, Briana thought. No wonder he has become so tired and overworked — so irrational in some of his decisions. He needed help. Why couldn’t he see she was the one who should be his aide?

  “It is decided,” the Archimage said finally, raising his head. “We accept the offer.”

  The masters around Alodar began burbling like brooks breaking the surface for the very first time. No voice raised in objection.

  Briana’s thoughts raced. A possible way out of her predicament! This was an easy task. She remembered the instructions about controlling the portal. They were quite simple. Snoop around a few places to see if there was any craft being performed and report. A two or three-day job at the most. Perhaps this could be the task opening her father’s eyes to how useful she could be. Enough of a reason for him to declare her marriage contract void.

  “When will you make the first journey?” the visitor asked.

  “The traveler has not yet been chosen,” Alodar said, a hint of irritation entering his voice. “But he will be soon enough to satisfy your desire.”

  “Then I return now to my peers. Their purity will refresh. The parchments given to you contain the coordinates of the world that imprisons the exiles.”

  Without anything further, Randor returned the portal and shut the door. It shimmered again for a moment and then was still.

  Alodar stood and faced the masters. “We will meet again in seven days. Bring with you candidates for who is to be the journey-taker. We will discuss and then decide.”

  A page entered the chamber and gave a note to the Archimage. He read it and scowled.

  He looked in the direction of the wizard on the far right. “All are dismissed — all except one, that is. Briana, please remain. Your fiancé is here on an unannounced visit.”

  Father and Daughter

  BRIANA TOOK a seat next to her father, and the page ushered in Slammert. “May I approach my betrothed to bestow a kiss of greeting, mighty Archimage?” he said.

  “No, you may not,” Alodar answered through gritted teeth. “Words of your deeds precede you. What is this about?”

  “From the tone of your greeting, I infer your daughter has thought it better for me to announce the wonderful news. Here, look at the document I bring. I am sure you will find it in proper order.”

  Alodar quickly read the contract, looked at Briana, then back to Slammert, and scowled.

  “I have not consented to this,” he said.

  “But consent was given, venerable Archimage. Perhaps with the distractions of state, you have lost track of the time. Your youngest daughter is of age.” He smiled at Briana. “She has been for some time.”

  “I will abrogate the agreement,” Alodar thundered. Briana had never seen him like this. Usually, he exhibited complete control.

  “But you cannot.” Slammert smiled. “You know that very well. The Archimage is not a despot holding sway over all of Murdina. Your decisions are accepted by those who rule because of the respect given to you — accepted only because of that respect. You cannot arbitrarily reverse something freely agreed to by another. The matter is concluded. It is done. Time for you to move on to your next crisis.”

  “Decisions are altered all the time,” Briana burst out. “New information is not ignored.”

  “It has taken years of reasoned logic and gentle prodding,” Alodar said, “but even the kingdoms to the south have seen the value of what I have espoused — the value of open borders, free trade, the expansion of commerce. Even the Iron Fist is now an inn for tourists.

  “Except for the ceremonial palace guards,” the Archimage continued, “standing armies have been disbanded throughout the world. There is no longer any need for the expense. Everyone abides by what I decree. For that to work, I must be beyond reproach. I, more than all others, must abide by the law.

  “This crawling slug is right, Briana.” He sighed. “You have been most foolish, but you have agreed. You are bound.”

  There was a moment of silence, then Alo
dar said “Slammert, why exactly are you here?”

  The lord glowered at Alodar. “Perhaps to remind everyone why the wedding must go forward as planned.” He smiled at Briana. “And to inform you, my beloved, that in your honor, I will be replacing one of the posts of our wedding bed with a new one. The old lumber is almost already notched from top to bottom. Yours will be the first on the new. Then every time we spend the evening together, you can count for yourself how many other notches have been added for those days we are apart.”

  Slammert’s tone hardened. “Make no doubt about it, wench. I always get whatever woman I want. Always!”

  Rage contorted Alodar’s face. He curled his fists in frustration. “Get out,” he managed to command through clinched teeth. “Somehow… somehow, I will find a way to get this undone.”

  “That we shall see.” Slammert bowed. “As you wish, mighty Archimage, I now will leave. I have other kings and lords to visit and extend invitation to the wedding — and remind them also about the agreement you must honor.”

  AFTER SLAMMERT had left, the silence hung like a dark raincloud over the two who remained.

  “Am I not worth something more to you than a mere pawn in the world of politics, Father?” Briana asked.

  “Of course you are,” Alodar said. “But in that world, you are only a beloved daughter, not a wielder of power.”

  “You do not command armies either.”

  “Yes, but it is my knowledge, my experience, my reputation that serves instead.”

  The decision rushed into Briana’s thoughts and solidified. She twirled a loose strand of her hair in her fingers while she decided what to say. “Let me be the one who ascertains the situation with the exiles, Father. And after that, there are other tasks you could give me, too. Then, the royalty and their lieges could understand why you broke the betrothal, why I have value more important than the desires of a border baron, value of importance to all of Murdina.”

  “What? The exiles? No, that is impossible. No one knows if what this cloaked visitor says is even true. A proven champion is needed.” Alodar brow folded in a fatherly frown, and then he managed a weak smile. “Someone who has a very good chance of returning unscathed.”

  “But wouldn’t that be the proof you needed? An example of what my worth to everyone would be? Reason enough to nullify the agreement made with Slammert. Everyone would understand.”

  Briana continued without thinking which words were tumbling out of her mouth, words she did not even know were there. “I want to go on an adventure, Father, as you did before becoming the Archimage, before checking off all the steps in the same boring ritual: courtship, marriage, children, and then old age. I want my name to be added to those in the sagas, triumphing over adversity, righting great wrongs, saving the world… or at least a little part of it.”

  She smiled, “Tales like those recorded of the deeds of my famous father. You were scarcely older then than I am now.”

  Alodar startled at the words. “Aeriel warned me it might come to this — that is, if we had had sons as well as daughters.”

  “How can you say that?” Briana exploded. “What difference does the gender make? Was not your final victory as much because of what mother did as you?”

  Alodar was silent for a while and then answered softly. “No, you are right. Of course, I would not be here today. The world would not be as it is now if not for her. And to this day she completes me still.”

  “And so, I want to be the one who goes through the portal and visits this other orb. The natives look almost the same as ourselves. It could be a woman’s task as well as a man’s.”

  Alodar started to answer, but then frowned. “Wait a moment. You said, ‘One traveler at a time.’ How do you even know that?”

  “From the writings given to us by the shrouded one on his first visit last year.” Briana shrugged, trying to make light of it. “A library page has been kind enough to gain me access.”

  “I have studied the tome well,” she continued. “There is a dictionary, a tutorial on one of the dominant languages, what the alphabetical symbols look like, and a pronunciation guide.”

  “Yes, yes, you are an apt student, able to discover secrets from even the most ancient of texts. Few of your age are your equal. But — ”

  “And most important of all, the natives are primitive.” Briana rushed on. “They have no knowledge of the five crafts. Even if they did, the laws would be the same as they are here. I would not be going to another realm. It will be easy to explore a world that is like ours. How hard could that be? I will be back in a few days.

  “Unlike other magical items, this portal has controls, settings for where and when to go and such,” she continued at a slower pace. “I have studied that also. After all, we have had these parchments for a year.”

  The Archimage shook his head, “We have only the shrouded stranger’s word that the natives do not use the crafts. I do not trust him… at least not yet. Not until whomever makes the journey reports back what he has learned. Trust me. I will somehow find another way to correct the error you have made.”

  He placed his hands on Briana’s shoulders, paused for a moment more, and then said softly, “The answer is no.”

  “You can’t do that!” Briana yelled back. “Even the Archimage has limits to his power. You admitted as much yourself. You cannot order me around like some serf of an Arcadian lord.”

  “I do not order you to stay because I am the Archimage,” Alodar said. “I do so because I am your father.”

  Briana felt the anger well within her like a brush fire suddenly out of control. She clinched her teeth so as not to say more. The library page had a key to this council chamber, she thought fiercely. It might take more than a single kiss to get it, but that is what she would have to do.

  Preparation for Adventure

  BRIANA PLACED the small disk over the keyhole. Its magic gently tingled her fingertips. With a satisfying click, the bolt in the door retracted. She grabbed the handle, thrust her backpack into the opening, and then buried the disk into the potted plant standing beside the doorway. The page would retrieve it later, and the only mystery would be how the council room had somehow been left unlocked.

  Briana entered the chamber and let the door swing shut. The heavy drapes had been pulled back earlier, but because it was a moonless night, the blackness was deep. Perhaps the two rows of chairs were gone, and the council table returned as well. She reached into her pack in order to snap a glowstick, but then halted. Now she only had five left, and to waste one here would not be wise. She had to start thinking like an adventurer, not some pampered doxy wondering about dinner the next day.

  Feeling along the wall, she felt a sconce and found the indentation nearby containing matches. The flickering glow of a single candle was enough. Yes, the chairs were gone, and the large round table had returned to its usual place. The door into the portal still stood on the other side of the room, beckoning like a seductive siren.

  Briana set her equipment on the ground for one last check before proceeding. She would have to hurry. Dawn was not far away, and she needed to be gone before anyone else would come — before anyone would stop her from what she was going to do.

  She smiled with satisfaction. Her cloak would be cover if the climate turned out to be cold. The surface of a goatsack of water filled almost to bursting was completely dry; there were no leaks. A dagger for the left side of her belt and a stout baton of ironwood for the right. Two loaves of hard bread and a change in underwear completed her essentials. She would wear her tunic, leggings, and boots for the entire journey. There was no need for anything more.

  Briana looked over the provisions a final time. She replaced one loaf of bread with a sack of sweetmeats. After all, she was only to be gone for a few days.

  The instructions for the portal, native dictionary, and the language guide left by the visitor joined a coil of string, a slim journal, some quills, and a small bottle of ink. How her father
had managed to keep everything in his head on his own saga, she could hardly imagine.

  Her father, Briana thought. What would he do if she were caught? He was widely regarded as just and level-headed, but when it came to his own family…

  She turned her attention to her small trove of precious objects — toys from her childhood, things long since put away. None was powerful of course — those were too rare, too expensive. But what she did have might come in handy in dealing with the primitives. She had one for each of the five crafts: Thaumaturgy, Alchemy, Magic, Sorcery, and Wizardry.

  From a thaumaturge, a short metal cylinder, shorter than the width of a hand, cut into two pieces lengthwise — one piece named the ‘king’ and the other the ‘queen.’ It was a teaching tool for youngsters for ‘once together, always together’ and ‘like produces like.’ Briana remembered hiding one-half under something like a handkerchief and then manipulated its twin so the first would soar and scare her older sisters

  Next, her collection of glowsticks from an alchemist. She had bought a batch of two dozen when she was twelve, and she had wasted most of them over the years until she realized that those remaining should be saved until there was a real need rather than an imagined one. Snap one apart and there would be a soft glowing light lasting for many minutes.

  She grasped the dark crystal of columbite, its color an unusual deep brown-black. It was a source of niobium, the magician had explained at the bazaar. Used in rituals producing strange forces that never faded. Useless unless the iron was stripped away first, but it was all a child needed in order to pretend.

  The sorcerer’s telescope came next. Yes, a telescope, but somehow rendered the size of her hand, sights for both of her eyes rather than only one. The light bent back and forth inside, the sorcerer had said, so that the telescope need not be long and cumbersome. The best part was that the chant one had to say in order to make the device work was short and simple. Despite what everyone knew — how difficult it was to recite correctly three times through, and the headache that would occur when there was a miscasting — each time she had used the strange telescope, she had not faltered. Each time she saw clearly images from many paces away — a charm of far-seeing, as potent as any in the sagas.