The Evermen Saga 01 - Enchantress (6 page)

"Here," the woman said, opening a door for Ella. "Go inside and take a seat. There’s no one in there but the masters, and I’m guessing they’ll be surprised to see you. I’ll speak to Master Lodley for you, but I’m sorry dear, I can’t see guarantee they’ll show any sympathy. Normally each student gets three hours."

Ella nodded, entered the cavernous room, and took a seat.

~

F
IVE
minutes passed before Ella gave up. The sheaf of paper on the desk was as thick as her finger; she wouldn’t have time to answer every question even if she wrote constantly.

She looked up. The three masters sat along one side of a long desk, each with a stack of papers piled high in front of him. The centremost looked up at the glowing timepiece on the wall, and then frowned at Ella and her untouched examination paper. Each man wore the green robes of an enchanter, but because these were masters their sword and flower
raj hada
was lined with gold. Master Lodley, on the left, had sad eyes and a drooping mouth, and while they all had greying hair, he seemed older than the other two. The centremost was slim with sharp hawkish features, dark eyes and frown lines. He wasn’t someone Ella would like to see angry. In contrast to the other two, the man on the right was younger and a little overweight, with a round face, shaggy eyebrows and an absent expression.

"Excuse me?" Ella said.

Master Lodley’s sorrowful eyes opened with surprise, and he leaned back a little. "What is it, young lady?"

"I don’t have time to do this test."

The slim master in the centre’s frown deepened. "Yes, I think that’s quite clear. Master Lodley, would you agree with the girl’s estimation?"

"Now, Master Goss," Master Lodley said. "No need to ridicule the girl."

"I can do this," Ella said. "I just don’t have time to write. Can you just ask me the questions? This is my only chance — you all know that. Please." Ella felt her eyes burning and struggled to hold back the tears.

"I’m sorry, young lady," the younger master on the right spoke for the first time. "I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that."

Ella knew they were unlikely to bend the rules for her, but she also knew this was her only chance. "Just let me try? I can answer these questions. I really can."

Master Lodley looked at Master Goss. "What harm could it do? Perhaps we should let her try."

Master Goss snorted. "It’s ridiculous. I don’t know how you can even suggest it."

Master Lodley fixed his gaze on the younger master. "Master Samson?"

Ella held her breath. If Master Samson agreed, her intuition told her Master Goss would have to accept.

Master Samson thought about it for a moment. Ella looked again at the timepiece on the wall. She had minutes left.

"I’m sorry, young lady, but I have to agree with Master Goss," Master Samson said.

Ella felt her heart sink. To have come so close, that was worst of all.

A shadow moved in the mezzanine above the desk where the masters sat. Ella realised someone had been watching. A moment later there was a knock at the door. Master Goss’s expression grew even more irritated, as he stood and opened the door abruptly, his mouth open to let whoever it was know they were not to be disturbed.

Ella couldn’t see who it was Master Goss spoke to, but his attitude changed dramatically.

"Of course," she heard him say. "Yes. I understand."

He closed the door and walked back to his chair, seating himself with a sigh of exasperation.

"Looks like you have your chance, young lady. Don’t think we’ll make this easy — enchantment is dangerous and we can’t afford fools. Stand up and come closer would you? Yes, stand there. Now, we’re each going to test your knowledge of the material, the mental, and the magical. Master Lodley, perhaps you’d like to start your verbal examination? Let’s get this over with."

Master Lodley nodded, and was pensive for the briefest moment. With a shiver of fear, Ella realised the formidable intellect that hid behind his drooping eyes.

"What is the composition of bronze?" he asked without preamble.

"Bronze is an alloy of copper and tin. No more than one third tin," Ella said.

"And steel?"

"An alloy of iron and carbon."

"How much carbon?"

Ella hesitated. "A very small percentage."

Master Lodley’s response didn’t tell her what he thought of her answer. "Order these by weight. A Petryan ounce of copper. A fifth-thimble of silver. An imperial dram of sulphur. A jeweller’s droplet of gold. A regular ounce of iron. An alchemist’s ounce of phosphorous."

Ella thought for a moment. "Well, imperial drams are the same as ounces, and as far as I know there’s no difference between a Petryan ounce and an ounce anywhere else in the empire. You would know that, and I’ve never heard of a jeweller’s droplet in all my time working in the market." Her gaze met Master Lodley’s grey eyes. "I think all the measurements are the same." Her mind worked furiously. "But also they are all elements. So I think you’re asking me which element has a greater elemic weight. In order from lightest to heaviest they are phosphorous, sulphur, iron, silver and gold."

Master Lodley sat back in his chair. She couldn’t tell if he was impressed or not. Ella’s heart was racing. She had worked so hard to be here. She could afford to fail, not once.

"How would you measure the weight of a mountain if you only know its height?" Master Lodley said. He may have supported her earlier, but he wasn’t letting her off easy now.

Ella felt a pressure grow behind her temple. "I would measure the circumference of the mountain by walking around it and calculate its volume using the circumference and height. I would weigh a smaller volume of the mountain to estimate the density. Finally I would multiply density by volume to calculate the weight."

Master Lodley nodded. "Master Samson, would you like to go next?"

"Yes, of course," Master Samson said. His eyes regarded her under the heavy eyebrows. "How can you throw a ball as hard as you can and have it come back to you, even if it doesn’t bounce off anything? There is nothing attached to it, and no one else catches or throws it back to you."

Ella thought furiously. "Throw it up in the air?"

"Next question. You are in a room with no metal objects except for two iron rods. Only one of them has been given a magnetic charge. How can you tell which one of them is magnetic?"

Ella’s headache grew in intensity. She tried to work it out in her mind. If she brought the two iron rods close, they would both move together. So how would she know which one of them had the magnetic charge? Master Samson already said there were no other metal objects in the room. What other properties did magnets have? She suddenly remembered reading a book,
A Brief Cartographical Analysis of Merralya
, which described a mechanical device called a compass. Modern travellers generally used a seeker to help find their way, but in poorer lands an alternative to magic was found.

"I know! Hang them both from a piece of string. Whichever points in a north-south direction is the magnet. Is that it?"

Master Samson simply nodded. "My final question. How do moneylenders create gilden from nothing?"

Ella’s brow furrowed. She felt the headache grow until it was a pulsing pain that increased with each beating of her heart. "If I give one silver deen to a moneylender, and he promises to give me five cendeens every year as interest, then I still think I have one silver deen. But if someone else then comes and borrows my silver deen, then we both believe we have a deen, and there are two deens where before there were one."

Master Samson looked at the timepiece on the wall. "I am finished. Master Goss?"

Master Goss sat up in his chair. He looked at Ella down his nose. She was suddenly very worried about what he was going to ask her. "I am going to test you on your knowledge of lore, young lady. First," he quickly drew something on a sheet of paper, "what is this rune?"

Ella could barely see the symbol. She started to step forward.

"No, don’t come any closer."

Ella’s head pounded. "
Asta
?"

"You may come closer now."

Ella walked towards Master Goss and looked down at the symbol. She could see her guess was correct, and silently breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now, point to the whorl," Master Goss said. Ella pointed. "The bridge?" Ella circled it with her finger. "Mark out the hollow."

Ella looked up. "There are two hollows." She ran her finger along the dip on the left of the rune, then on the slight curve at the bottom."

"You may step back now. What is it the rune for?" Master Goss said.

"I… I think it’s a rune for colour," Ella said.

"What activation would you ascribe, if you wanted to use this rune in the creation of a nightlamp?" Master Goss asked.

"
Tish-suka
."

Master Goss looked satisfied.

Ella continued. "But you wouldn’t use
asta
without a tertiary chain. You’d end up having to darken the lamp by activating a sequence for darkness, which doesn’t make sense. One would instead include a sequence to deactivate the lamp."

Ella saw Master Lodley smile, and then attempt to cover it up.

"My final question," Master Goss said. "When will the Evermen return?"

Master Lodley coughed and choked. Ella opened her mouth and then closed it again. How was she supposed to answer? Did they want the kind of response a priest might give? Or was it another mental challenge?"

"Your time is up," said Master Goss. He smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. "You may have some knowledge, young lady, but don’t forget that you also need faith."

Master Lodley looked up, evidently aware that the hidden figure in the mezzanine was listening. "You may go now, Ella. You can speak with Madam Foley regarding your tuition."

Ella’s eyes widened. "My tuition?"

"Yes, Ella, your tuition. Classes start on Lordsday."

Ella felt a thrill run through her. "Thank you!" she said to the masters. She beamed up at the mezzanine. One day she would learn who it was who could tell a man like Master Goss what to do. "Thank you," she said to the hidden heights.

Master Lodley gave her a hint of a smile in return. As the timepiece struck the hour, Ella left the room.

4

All this wealth and no use for it. Does it make you frustrated?

— Emperor Xenovere V to Primate Melovar Aspen, 543 Y.E.

T
HE
sun beat down mercilessly. Miro blinked sweat out of his eyes, and then ducked instantly as one of his opponents took advantage of his lapse. The sword was close. Too close. He felt the nick as the razor sharp steel sliced into his temple. A small amount of blood burst out, but the flow was small.

"Fight on," said Blademaster Rogan.

If Miro had a cendeen for every time he had heard those words he would be a rich man, he thought sardonically.

"Concentrate!" his teacher called, though whether to him or to his opponents he wasn’t sure.

Saporo and Rimor gathered themselves. Saporo looked proud for scoring a hit. Still, Miro knew he was the less dangerous of the two, and kept an eye on Rimor. His two opponents spread apart, forcing Miro to take two steps back lest they outflank him.

Ringed around them, fifty novice swordsmen watched closely.

"Notice how Miro watches the eyes and the legs, not the hands or the arms. The eyes tell you what your enemy intends, the legs tell you how he will do it," said Rogan.

Rimor’s eyes flickered but Miro didn’t take the bait. Saporo waited, following his ally’s lead.

Miro didn’t know how, but he suddenly knew Rimor was about to step to the right. He waited for the first signs of Rimor’s movement. Then with reflexes like an adder, Miro was there to meet him. Saporo was behind Rimor for a split second and Miro seized his opportunity, ramming the hilt of his sword savagely into Rimor’s face, breaking his nose. Blood sprayed over the young man’s face, blinding him.

"Always use every part of your body, every part of your weapon. Miro is an adept at this; he uses his blade like an extension of his body."

Faster than the eye, Miro’s sword flashed at Rimor’s neck.

"Hold!" shouted Rogan Jarvish.

The sword touched the young man’s neck with the lightest of kisses, the razor sharp steel leaving a faint line on Rimor’s neck. What did Rogan think — that Miro was going to kill him? No. But Rimor’s mocking words hadn’t been forgotten, and this was Miro’s chance to strike on a level playing field.

"Come on, what if Miro was holding a zenblade? Rimor, you’re out," said the instructor. "Saporo, let’s see you get another hit."

With a grimace and his hands clutched to his face, Rimor left the field, throwing Miro a hateful glare. Miro knew he would pay for that later. He didn’t regret it. Away from supervision, with his friends to back him up, Rimor had left worse scars on Miro’s own tender flesh.

With the better opponent out, Miro grew more confident. He lunged, forcing Saporo back. He feinted right, but instead spun to the left. Saporo caught himself and tried to lift his sword in warding. The steel tip of Miro’s blade lanced at Saporo’s face; the youth fell away from Miro’s onslaught. Miro kicked out with his leg, landing a painful blow to his opponent’s ankle. Saporo stumbled and lost his balance, falling backward onto the dust. Rather than pushing further, Miro waited, allowing his opponent to rise.

"Did you see that coming? Saporo should have. If he’d been watching Miro’s eyes it was clear. Well done, Miro, now finish him."

Miro could have done without the praise. From the sidelines he caught several resentful glances from the watching young men.

Saporo threw himself at Miro, his sword twisting and thrusting. It came straight at the centre of Miro’s chest. Miro went to turn, too late! The steel was going to skewer him. At the last moment he arched himself backward. Confident of a hit, Saporo overextended. Miro pirouetted, resting the point of his sword over Saporo’s collar.