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A week and a half later, Anders was beginning to wish that he hadn’t insisted that Jeld, or several others, try to learn magic as he had. With the servant it was very clear that the man simply didn’t wish to learn. He fought the lessons at each step, and while he could be pushed to do the task, he refused to let it come easily to him. Indeed, the man wasn’t alone in that at all. Of the seven servants put forward, pulled into the task by promises of wealth or power, all of them had done much the same thing.
They’d learned, but things that should have taken them hours were moved into being the effort of days. Worse, it was due to a willful laziness when it came to magic, not any real lack on their portions. Jeld was, as it turned out, a fairly clever man, able to learn other new things with skill and speed. Still, after ten days, while Prince Erold and Princess Mathia had learned hundreds of spell components and made good inroads to learning the basics of wizardry, Jeld had managed to pick up four hand gestures. The first ones.
Those had mainly come because Lissa had beaten him with a stick. Harshly enough that, after a while, Anders had to stop her. Without that, solid brutality being used, the man refused to progress at all. Worse, the other servants that tried were all doing even worse. Each had managed one step, but would simply choose not to learn at a reasonable pace at all.
It wasn’t that they couldn’t learn, but rather that, even motivated by greed, they simply couldn’t allow themselves to reach past their fear. Part of him wanted to give up on all of them, since it wasn’t very rewarding for him. Princess Lissa was doing better, teaching Queen Maura, so it wasn’t a failure of the techniques. No, it was a failure of the students. They weren’t really motivated. A thing that, in the end, was the fault of the instructor.
Farad despaired at the idea of such failures. He’d had some, in his first life, of course. Mainly young boys who had been lured to the hermitage with a lust of learning, at a very young age. Then, the growth of a man would hit at about eleven years and they became distracted by other, more worldly things than dry texts.
This was different.
The new students were failing in the first moments, refusing to use the memory techniques, if applied to magic at all. Jeld, when tested, had learned a good bit of Scara using the same tricks, as easily as anyone else had.
Which caused Anders to truly consider tossing him out of the lessons.
Except that he hated to let the students down. It was wasted energy, forcing a person to do things they didn’t want to, of course. Which meant he needed to motivate them to find a reason for doing it. Most of them had started when it was pointed out that learning such things could improve their lives. That was a long way off, for most of them, however.
Riches, promised, but not seen. A fantasy of improved station, without anyone even ever having done it, except Daren. Who hadn’t been flashing his new found wealth around, of course. For that matter, neither had Anders.
To that end, not thinking it would really work at all, Anders used some of his scrap linen to make a small purse. Then he dressed it to look like rich silk, with an embroidered design. A wolf, to signify that the coins within belonged to the King. Not that the design was the same one he used. Not exactly. Anders had a more realistic version of the animal on it. Glinting a little in the light from his window.
Then he filled the sack with silver coins. That and copper. He had to take that to his table, and shine each of them, using magic, removing the stamps in them, replacing them with one of his own making. A single star, with four points on one side, with King Mathias’s crest, on the other. Again, it was close, but not exact, since doing that would be laying a false claim. The King wasn’t truly angered with him at the moment, but he hadn’t loved hearing that their enemy from afar had not only come to visit, but had been there for years. Watching. Waiting.
Worse, Anders had told him, rather flatly, that no one thought that they, Istlan, or even their northern continent, could survive a battle with either of the versions of Ganges the Great and Terrible.
Meaning that avoiding that, battle, was the wiser course.
Which was what he needed to do with Jeld and the others.
They were working in the servants’ hall, after the morning meals, so it wasn’t difficult to call everyone together. From the glum looks on their faces, it was clear that all of them, including Jeld, were assuming they were going to be sent away.
Waving and calling out, Anders smiled at the men and women, all of them known by him. They were the people of his early life there at the castle. If they weren’t close to him, or friends, they had always been there in his world. So, he wasn’t going to be mean to them.
“If you learn one spell component per day and can demonstrate your knowledge of it, you receive one copper. Ten, and you earn a silver. If you learn twenty in a single day, even if you forgo sleep to do it, you will receive a gold. You may try this as many times as you wish. You all can, if you wish, make a silver a day and still do half a day’s work here. Here, see the coins? Take one, each of you.” He spilled them into his hand, passing a silver to each person. “More than most make in a month, right there, in your hands. Easily captured by each of you. Hold on to those. Feel them. Solid metal. Riches that you can earn, by simply listening, and accepting that you, every single one of you, has the skill you need to do this. Now, we will begin again. Find a comfortable place to sit. I’ll be looking into your minds, so, you understand, push the greed away and focus on the sound of my voice!”
Then, when they started, he pushed them, but also corrected what they were thinking, several times, with words.
“Now, set aside that fear. Magic is only a tool. You are the craftsman. As you do not fear a hammer, there is no concern over magic. Let that go, and feel the blackness around you. Thin and translucent.” Several of the people there worried again, suddenly. He caught why and nodded. “Translucent means clear. Easily seen through. Translucent. Hear the word. Focus on it. See through it. Now, in your mind, raise your right hand. Feel the shape of it. It tingles, deep in the palm. Imagine that happening now, in this hand, in your mind. As you push it outward, you feel a rush of power, of force. Extending out, your hand open, palm toward the direction you wish any object to move. Now, bring that all together, and then... Focus on the tunnel around you. The one that isn’t there at all.”
They were all doing it, this time, and when he placed the first stones in front of them, to push back, using their new magical abilities, he added one new thing.
“In a moment, you will bring your right hands up. Before we do that, I would remind you of what lies in your left. A coin of silver. A thing coveted by many. A thing you own, if only you will take it. A thing that is yours, earned by your will. Now, raise your outer hands, open your eyes, feel that tingle, deep in your palm, and extend that outward as you push, now.” His words were bland.
Each of the stones moved.
Then he had them do it one hundred times.
By mid-day, each of them were at ten new magics each. Which got him to smile. Bribing students wasn’t a wonderful thing, perhaps, but it had worked.
“Each day, from now on, you can earn your coins. Recall, if you wish to push for more, twenty new spell components per day will earn you each a gold coin. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
Anders wasn’t exhausted from his efforts, but he was both pleased and annoyed with the extra efforts he’d had to put in, to get the servants there to bother to learn. Then, the coins meant a lot less to him than having new magic users did. They were at war, after all.
Not that most of them weren’t going to learn how to do magical cleaning, first. Then serve for a time doing that for their visitors. Mainly because he wasn’t taking most of them with him to the front. Not with what they understood at the moment.
After the mid-meal, Anders had a few hours to spend on his own projects. Most of that time had been learning or practicing fighting of late, with the friendly Guard Cohen but that day they were being given a break. Mainly because Prince Erold had a meeting to attend. Which meant that he went to find Ganges. Hoatha, since they really hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time, in the last weeks. Not even to talk or go over plans.
He had to use wizard skills to find him, the man being in an unexpected place. That was in Lady Lyse’s quarters. Not, thankfully, doing anything too adult. They were merely speaking. With Lady Martya. That being the case, Anders simply moved to the door and knocked. Hearing his name, before Martya came to open it, smiling at him.
“There you are! How does the teaching go?” She seemed to be concerned for him on that one. Probably having gotten rather in-depth information about the topic. She had sources, after all.
Anders waved at the others, then bowed, using first courtly, getting a lazy curtsy back from Martya, a wave from his mother and a bob in place from Hoatha. Then he sighed.
“Each of them finally learned the first day’s work, after only a week or more of trying for each of them. I started over and offered them a silver for every day they learn ten new things. That worked. Showing that the issue is about motivation, not lack of ability. I didn’t think so, but... It’s a bit frustrating. I’m hoping that, over time, they’ll learn to do that for themselves.”
Lyse settled in her chair, a padded and comfortable thing, with pillows on the seat and back. Martya did the same, though Hoatha smiled at him.
“That’s an unusual method. Of course, it won’t last long. You can pay them for their efforts, but if they can’t see the value of it on their own, they’ll revert to their old pattern. Not that it matters. Teaching them even a few useful tricks will have an effect on others, which is the real point, I believe? At the same time, you have several students who are doing well on a level that is rare, indeed. That some have a harder time will simply make what you are doing here more valuable. Now, we were just wondering what the next plans are? We’re off to the front, I believe?”
It sounded odd, the way it was put. As if it were a light, or trivial thing, not possible death being placed before them. If the act of going to war held weight for his old friend, it didn’t show on either his face or his demeanor. He seemed relaxed about it, as if it were of no more effort or consequence than attending a party.
“Oh... Daren’s party! Did I miss that? I still haven’t given out the little gifts I have for people from my travels. That’s lazy of me. I’m leaving in a few days, too.”
There was a slightly concerned look, from his mother and a wave from Lady Martya. She seemed different as well, when she spoke. More mature than he recalled her, in the past. Something deeper coming out of her than he recalled being there. A thing which, he had to admit, might have been his imagination playing tricks on him.
“Prince Daren’s reception is this evening, in fact. We have it worked out, and all who are needed for it are invited. We didn’t add your name to the list, since you’ve been too busy for things such as that. Are you prepared for your new venture?”
Anders could have taken offense at not being invited to the party that evening, but it hit him as an actual relief, even if he probably needed to be there, at least in part, to show good will toward his friend. In the moment though, the words laid out for him to follow actually aided him, since they brought up an important point.
“I’m not, naturally. I’ve spent all of my last days here trying to get people ready for war. Failing, as well, in the main. The servants... I can’t see taking most of them with us. They have a few spells and I have proof they can do it now, but...”
The words were laughed at, gently, by Ganges. The way he did it was very familiar, if a millennium or more out of date.
As his hand waved them away, he grinned.
“Take them anyway? At least the men. This place doesn’t send women to war easily, from what I’ve been gathering. Perhaps task young Lissa with their training, while you are away? You can leave her some coin, and we can decorate her thrashing stick for her, to show her station in regards to that. I hear she already worked on... Jeld, was it? The new room man?”
That part, that the servants were, finally, seeing to their tasks was a nicety that had Anders feeling better about himself and his world, even if it didn’t show on his face that easily.
“Yes, Jeld. I’ll do as you suggest and set Lissa to the task. She’s growing in skill and can do that. If they fail to learn fast enough... Well, I don’t know what to do past bribery. Beating people into a task they loath won’t work. Not in the long term.”
No one spoke for a moment, which probably indicated he was supposed to be intelligent enough to work that out on his own. That or the topic had gone stale, and he needed to be more entertaining.
“So, I should go to the market tomorrow and do some shopping. I have my heavy cart and the oxen, but need to check them as well. Also... Well, it’s spring, so there isn’t a lot to take with us, to the front, is there? Food is scarce all over. Just now starting to be born or grow.”
That just meant it would be costly, in coin or effort. Still, if he used care, they could hunt on the way there. They would need to carry most of a season’s worth of food with them however, which would take more than one wagon. He could rent though and see about hiring some men on to work the trip for them.
He nearly rose, to go and see to that, when his mother cleared her throat, a tiny bit.
“I hear that you made acquaintance of Count Verit, last week?”
He nodded, hoping that wasn’t a problem of some sort. It was difficult at times to know with Lady Lyse. She would give cryptic or even plain warnings one day, then act as if she’d never spoken on a given topic at all, when next they met, depending on who was about. There was no real weight to these particular words, so he nodded.
“I did, in fact. A very kind man.”
Making a silly face at him, his mother nodded.
“So, I gather. Now, at least. Once again, I have heard talk that allowing you to go to the front is, perhaps, a waste of a good healer. What is your take on this, Hoatha?” She leaned forward, a tiny bit, as if sending a message to the youthful seeming man standing across the room by some paces.
“I think that not sending Anders would be a mistake. He has trained several competent war mages, already. On top of that, he is a force to be reckoned with, in his own person.”
There was a pause then, in speech, which was filled by Lady Martya.
“Do not think that your son is weak or easily frightened, Lyse. We have all heard the stories of his adventures. I don’t doubt that there will be more. If he lives through the coming battles, of course.”
That last, adding it, seemed almost mean. Ganges, a bit annoyingly, seemed to agree with the idea. Lady Lyse seemed honestly worried, suddenly, so Anders huffed a bit and pretended to be put out, crossing his arms.
“If you put it that way, then I should stay here and see to learning to cook more, instead.”
That got a polite chuckle, at least.
So he went on, sighing. It wasn’t a real thing, but was well enough done he thought, to seem nearly as if he meant it.
“War is dangerous. It is true that I could perish in doing this. Not doing it will leave us all open from attacks coming from Dora, in the coming seasons. If we are to have an army available to meet them in time, we must press Yanse back so hard that they will sue for peace and beg to become our fast friends. I don’t know if we can do this, but not heading to the front won’t aid the good men there in the victories they need. Even if all I can do is start a few chants and pat them on the back to bolster their moods, it’s worth doing.”
Anders readied a spell, not speaking it, but preparing to. If either Martya or Hoatha decided to speak out of turn again, he was going to make them feel dizzy and unable to right themselves for several minutes. Almost as if noticing his efforts, both people simply nodded.
Hoatha even smiled, covering his lips, as he looked at Lyse. She still seemed concerned.
“There is danger, but I will be with him. With Daren as well. So shall Depak. Nothing is assured in life, but it is a good group to go to war with. Recall, Anders Brolly is a veteran of several battles. Daren Willet has served as well, in the south. Both my son and I have seen more of war than either would care to recall, and lived to speak of it, so I do think we should be, if not safe, then at least alive, in the end.”
That wasn’t going to be helpful in regards to making his mother feel better, but Anders had to nod, anyway.
“Not that we’re going to throw two former kings into our war here.” He grinned then. “Not as long as we don’t start losing, at least. In that case...”
His old, ancient, friend, smiled at the words.
“Well, I can help with roads and make a river for you, if you need? I’m sure there will be things to do. See to sanitation for instance? That’s always needed at the front of any war.”
Anders stood then, or at least started to, only to be waved back down, by his mother.
“Not yet. I’ve barely spoken to you in weeks now. Aisla was complaining of the same thing, at the high meal, last night. To everyone there. So did several others. Princess Peri and Prince Robarts managed that for you, so that no one will think it too strange, perhaps, but it isn’t natural for a young man to be working as hard as you are, on war efforts.”
He made a face, but forced it into a grin. It clearly wasn’t very well done, since his mother gave him a look back, which spoke of scolding, without speaking the words.
“Forgive me. I shouldn’t sit here making faces. What do I do to fix this? Get drunk and start a fight with someone?”
There was a gentle nod, from his mother.
“Yes? Not that exactly, since it wouldn’t be accepted from you now... You’ve been too calm in the face of danger, too often for that to be believed. Perhaps you could get caught with a woman? I’d set Martya on you for that, but...”
She seemed caught out then, and tensed, as if a fight would start from it.
From Martya.
That lady, regardless of who she was inside, made her own face. One that spoke of consideration, instead of upset.
“Baroness Murry? She’s not too old to do that sort of thing, is comely enough that being seen with her won’t be an insult and the scandal of it wouldn’t be that unwelcome on her side, either. She’s a bit staid that way, and lacking in attention given that. We’d have to move quickly... Then you can send Anders off to the front, in shame?” She snapped her fingers then. “Oh... We could get the King to do it, instead? That will have greater impact. Just don’t get her with child. Unless you decide you like her? That... Well, one could do far worse. Is she known to you, Anders?”
“Um... No? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. Perhaps, given that, we shouldn’t malign her good name, should we? Besides, I’ve had some difficulties in certain areas.” In the past, at least. A thing that caused Martya to cough into her hand.
“Oh? I thought you past that. I noticed Eltha Tenet coming from your room in the forest palace, the other night...”
His mother, betraying him, as well as showing greater information than seemed normal, simply spoke, as if it were a normal topic for them.
“I noticed that as well. Word has it they only kissed, however. That’s hardly enough for a proper scandal. Plus, as a woman from a different land, saying such things about her might cause problems. I’ll send Baroness Murry to you, if she’s willing. There, settled. Now, what do you have planned for your own life, Anders? More work, I suppose?”
He nodded, even if he honestly didn’t have such plans, at the moment.
“Naturally. Before I leave at a quick walk, may I ask... Am I truly being scolded for working too hard? I need to know, in case it’s a real issue and not me simply being teased without mercy.”
Lyse actually snorted. Making it two or three times he’d heard her make such a low born noise in his life. That he recalled, at least.
“This is deathly serious, my child. You have come to the attention of the high court, which is never an easy thing. Worse, your name is being spoken of as if you were important. You are, of course, but that isn’t what a boy of your age should ever seek. So, we need to sabotage you, a bit. With something that won’t truly do harm to you, but at the same time, will show you as a real boy. There have been rumors that you were taken over by an outside force of some sort. One that might be a threat to others here.”
Anders was angry enough at the words that Farad had to take over, dropping into a deep trance.
“Ah? Who’s been suggesting such things? I wasn’t aware that I had any real enemies here, yet.”
Martya reached out and took his arm, which resonated with a sense of calm, attempting to influence him, against his will. Not that he let himself feel anger, after a moment.
The curly haired woman, looking pale and attractive, winked at him.
“No one of consequence to you. People will always speak, just as they will always fear what they don’t instantly understand. Don’t allow it to color your thoughts. If nothing else, going for those who fear you will simply cause more to think of you in such light.”
Which was all true, of course. It didn’t make it any easier for him to manage himself at the moment, the rage pouring into and through him in a way that felt unnatural. After a moment, he forced himself back to calm, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Using his wizardry skills, Anders searched himself first. His brain was fine, as far as he could determine. No one was casting a spell at him that he could find either. As the white-hot rage left him, he felt it dropping from within. It was, it just seemed, to be him. Anders at least. His very nature bristled instantly, at the mere thought of being attacked.
A thing that everyone there noticed happening. So, when he calmed, he nodded.
“Well, I’ll be gone in some days’ time. Then, when the war ends... I was thinking I could move to another land? At least away from here. That should allow people to feel more at ease.” He shook his head then. “Only, no. If I run from those who fear magic, they’ll keep having to be the way they are. Only by causing them to become used to such things will they learn not to be so... Silly.”
Ganges, seeming ancient, managed to sound bored. As if it were a thing that he’d seen before, too many times to count.
“Such things will always run hot and cold. This year people fear you for filling a tankard with water after a few strange sounding words. In two more, those same people will beg for your favor in filling their own cup. It’s the same in all places, for all people. I knew a smith once, who was reviled in his town for making knives that were too sharp and which were hard to break. Good things, but still, he was hated for doing it.”
“What did he do about it?” Anders wondered if it was a trick or a false story, to distract him from his anger of the moment.
His friend, looking so familiar, as he had as a boy or at least nearing twenty, took a deep breath.
“Nothing. He kept making the blades, until he was killed for it, after twenty or thirty years. Now such knives are made by many of the best smiths. You own a similar one yourself, Anders.” He shrugged.
Lyse glared at the story, but gave a short bow in the man’s direction.
“So, you’re saying that nothing can be done?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. Anders isn’t a surly smith from a small town. He can do a thousand things. Including simply carrying on as he has been. I dare say that those in power here speak of him in friendly terms, as a loyal and brave servant and friend. That some at court mistake things out of mild fear will fade, if you merely show them that you are consistent in what you do. Do good works. Be kind... Be generous and brave. I doubt that much will follow you past the year, if you do that. At least until you slip up and do something that makes them afraid again.”
The words were comforting to hear. Why that was, Anders didn’t really know. Farad worked it out and shared, thankfully. It was that Anders had, over the last months, done gentle and kind things with enough ease that he had to wager he could keep doing it. Not at war, directly, but after that, it should be possible.
Plus, the old man knew a thing that Anders only suspected. It came from having hundreds of books, many about wars, inside his mind.
Those who won the wars were almost always lauded in their own times. That meant, more than anything else, that Anders simply had to win, when he went to the front. That and survive. Nothing else was in his plans, so he felt as if not much had changed that way, given the conversation.
“Good. Well, I should go and... Not work? Possibly talk to someone who isn’t too much older than myself? Sit in a hallway, eating sweets and drinking juice?”
Lady Lyse pulled her fan, and leaving it closed, tapped her mouth. Smiling.
“That... Yes? Do that? We need someone to come and loudly query you as to what you have in the cup... I’ll handle that. Outside the low hall, in say... An hour?”
That she was serious was humorous to him, but he had to admit that something sweet did sound pleasant at the moment. Juice did as well, if he could find any. It was a hard season for such things, since, as everyone knew, you got the best juice in winter. A soft beer could work as well. Anders didn’t drink often, but he could, in order to sway the minds of others.
Standing, he nodded.
“I need to go eat. Perhaps I can arrange that with Senna Grace? I’m certain I’ll look poorly in her eyes, if I do that. A shame, since I do want to be held in good stead, by certain people.”
There was a wink and then a hug, from Martya.
“Do it anyway? Simply explain it to the cooks. That will draw them closer to you. You have to impress more than the nobles here, after all.”
With that said, he bowed to everyone, and left. Feeling... slow and as if he wasn’t doing something right. For the life of him, he simply couldn’t work out what that was.