Valor and Violence

Ferez tried not to fidget as he stood at attention in the Circle Chamber. It was deliberately dark, his surrounds hidden from sight, the only light coming from narrow apertures in the ceiling above him, shining light directly on him, the five High Mages and the Arch Mage arrayed at the semi-circular council bench before him. They were deliberating in hushed voices. He had just delivered his report, and the response had not been as positive as he had hoped. Mostly because the holes in his story were large enough to float a Calandorian dreadnaught through.

Naturally, he couldn’t mention consorting with Leo, given his expulsion from the college, and Ingrid had made it clear that if he so much as breathed her name on college grounds she would tear him limb from limb. The fact she had told him while they were entwined in his bedroll was a nice consolation prize, but it still left him with the difficult task of explaining why the rogue mage’s body was covered in wounds of just about every nature except for fire magic.

In the end, he had spun some bullshit about borrowing some Resonance weapons, but he wasn’t sure the council was buying it. His attention was brought back to the table before him when one of the High Mages, Francine Benviento, cleared her throat. She was an elderly Pyris mage from Tok Risim, old even by the standards of long-lived mages. She had been the Circle’s resident bean counter for as long as near anyone could remember. Ferez groaned internally.

“Adept Ahud, you were charged with terminating DuBois quickly and discretely. Would you say you were successful in this task?”

“He’s dead, so I would say so.”

Benviento grunted and shuffled some papers on the table in front of her. She selected one and held it out in front of her, perching a pair of half-moon spectacles on the end of her nose.

“Salazaar city guard report, dated the third of the month, the same day you were charged with this task. To quote: ‘reckless use of Pyris magic in The Drunken Mule caused extensive damage to the second floor. Fire spread to adjacent buildings before fire brigade established control. Estimated several hundred gold coins worth of damage. Multiple fatalities, though likely Guildsmen.’”

“Ah, well, you see-“

“Salazaar city guard report,” she said, cutting him off, “same day: ‘the eleventh pier district was set alight, suspected Pyris mage involvement, shortly before the entire district was destroyed by reckless use of Aquis magic. Estimated damages cost–significant. Multiple bodies washed ashore down the coast.’”

“As I was going to say-“

“College liaison to Aderath special report, ninth of the month: assailants attack Gascoigne castle in southern Aderath. Lord Gascoigne killed along with his entire garrison. Suspected Guild involvement. Widespread damage caused by Pyris magic. College to accept limited liability.”

“Well, when you say it all like that…”

“How else would you say it, Adept?”

Ferez sniffed, his eyes roaming the Circle. “DuBois killed six mages, two of them battlemages. I think some collateral damage was always going to be unavoidable.”

“Oh? Did you do battle with DuBois in the Drunken Mule? Or was it at the pier? I’m surprised he was right here under our noses all this time.”

“No, it was the Guild.”

“I see. Tell me, what part of the Writ of Termination stipulated going to war with the Assassin’s Guild?”

“It wasn’t my choice! They involved themselves. They were working with DuBois!”

“Believable, but tell me, how did they find out you were hunting him? Their intelligence network is infamous, but finding you within a few scant hours of being tasked is really quite unbelievably impressive.”

“It eventuated that our independent lines of inquiry intersected.”

“And where, or who, did they intersect over?”

“Uh,” Ferez mumbled, sweat beading on his brow, “you know how taverns are. Great place to find information. Really just coincidental.”

“Incredibly coincidental,” she replied, eyes narrowing over the rim of her glasses.

“Funny how the world works sometimes, isn’t it?”

His remark was met with complete silence, and he felt prickles crawling up the back of his neck as he wilted under Benviento’s glare. Finally, she raised her eyebrows and screwed her mouth with a slight shake of her head. It had the effect of deepening the wrinkles lining her face and for a moment her face looked like a mask made out of tree bark. Ferez repressed a snort.

“Alright, Adept. The council concedes you achieved a remarkable feat for one so young, and has decided, especially given the excellent condition of the artefact you recovered, to award you the full fee for the task-“

“Yes!” Ferez hissed.

“-which will be used to pay for the damages caused by your escapades.”

“What?”

“Adept Ahud, the college is out of pocket a sum of three thousand, four hundred and eighty-seven gold as a result of the destruction you have caused. Be grateful we are deducting your pay for this task and not every successive task for the next three decades of your life!”

Ferez took a step forward, fists clenched by his side, but Phoenix Guardsman appeared out of the gloom on either flank of the table, halberds in their hands. Ferez took a deep breath, unclenched his hands, gave a curt bow and left, throwing the doors open hard enough for them to clang against the walls.

He stalked through the college, his glare sending apprentices and attendants scurrying, before he burst out of the building and into the street.

Stupid, stuffy, bureaucrats! He thought to himself as he turned down the road that would take him to the city gates and, beyond that, down to Salazaar. I’ll be in that Circle one day. And I swear to Val’Pyria, if I ever turn out like them, I hope she strikes me down in a pillar of fire.

His temper seethed all the way to the city gates, but reason reasserted itself on the long walk down to the port. Benviento had raised a reasonable point; he and Leo had inadvertently caused a lot of damage. By rights, they could have put him in debt to pay for it. By time he walked through the entryway into the tavern, he was close to a semblance of calm.

He looked around and found them seated at a table by the back of the room. He shook his head at Leo’s hopeful look, and Ingrid sighed as he sat down. She gave his hand a brief squeeze, a surprisingly emotional and overt display of affection by her standards, then flicked a silver at Leo.

“Guess the next round’s on me.”

Leo stood and hurried over to the bar with his prize clutched protectively to his chest. While he waited in line, Ingrid turned back to Ferez.

“Didn’t go so well, huh?”

“They haven’t put me into indentured servitude to pay for the damages, so that’s nice.”

Ingrid scoffed and a group of patrons burst into an explosive round of cheering and laughter behind them. Ferez turned to find a mage standing on the table, a mug of ale in each hand giving a heartfelt rendition of Monet the Mermaid.

“What’s his deal?” Ferez asked.

“Won a dead pool payout. Something about someone drowning.”

Ferez groaned and slammed his head on the table.

Ingrid patted him on the shoulder. “She’ll be right, mate. What’s next for you?”

Ferez replied with his face still buried on the table. “I’m still paying off the armour, so I guess I need another job,”

He heard a stool scrape as Leo returned with their drinks. He sat back, grabbed a mug and took a long draught. Leo watched him with a twinkle in his eye while Ingrid smirked and sipped her own.

“If you need work,” she said. “I might have a line on something.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“There’s a probable camp of bandits out near the old Gascoigne estate that needs to be burnt out.”

Ferez grunted. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the pay?”

“Five Aderathian crowns.”

“That’s a pretty low rate. I would have expected something closer to fifteen.”

“The whole job is fifteen, but it works out as five a head.”

Ferez looked from Ingrid to Leo and back again. The twinkle in Leo’s eye was even brighter than before, and Ingrid’s smirk was now a full-blown smile.

“I thought you both had jobs to go back to?”

Leo sighed and necked his drink. “I brought too much attention my way. My career as a smuggler is dead in the water. I was thinking of getting out of the business, anyway.”

“Ingrid?”

“My boys in town can keep the business going while I’m away. Our little escapade scratched an itch I forgot I had. I’m not ready to go back to a desk job just yet.”

Ferez smiled into his mug. The pay wasn’t exactly a lot when split three ways, but it would be an easy job with all of them. In fact, most jobs would be easy with all of them. There wasn’t much three battlemages couldn’t handle. More, despite the near constant threat of impending death and injuries, he had found what he was looking for in the hunt for DuBois. Excitement, challenge, and, if the whispers and furtive glances he had caught through the college were an indication, fame.

A squad of battlemages, he thought to himself. Now there’s a terrifying concept.

He raised his mug in the air between them.

“To fame, fortune, and some fantastic fights!”

Ingrid and Leo smashed their mugs into his as they cheered.