Michael Foster - The Young Magician

Eric was set to launch himself forwards, clenching his fists tight, but Lomar held him firm.

‘We can beat him,’ Samuel whispered to Master Glim.

‘No, Samuel,’ Master Glim said surely. ‘It’s too dangerous. This room is full of power.’

A grand smirk crawled across Rimus’ face. ‘Call the guards. Take them away,’ he called out. ‘Use any means necessary.’

With that, everyone who had not already done so began to ready spells. Some magicians, most notably the younger ones, began hurrying up the aisles and out through the chamber door, fearful of what might unfold, while others gathered nearer, readying to support one side or the other. Samuel looked from the corners of his eyes. The two mysterious magicians loomed near, dripping with power of blinding silver. Sweat began to trickle down Samuel’s brow. His magic swelled to the brim and he set himself to loose it free-but Master Glim called out above the din that had arisen in the room.

‘What a room full of fools! Calm yourselves down. There’s no need for lost tempers. It can only bring misfortune upon us all to unleash our spells here. Magicians must never use magic against one another! It’s against everything we have worked for. Everyone sit down, take a breath and start using your heads.’

At that, a few faces relaxed. Samuel felt the goosebumps on his skin subside and he, too, let his power slowly recede in turn as the room returned to calm.

Master Glim turned back towards Rimus. ‘We concede, High Lord Rimus. Continue with the ceremony. We will not hinder you any further and you can deal with us how you wish afterwards. We were only trying to establish the truth here. We can just as easily do that after the ceremony, can’t we? Go on. Take your Staff.’

Samuel looked to his teacher in an effort to ascertain the man’s intentions, but Master Glim gave nothing away and Samuel dared not ask now. Rimus wrinkled his brow and looked doubtful; then he made a narrow smile.

‘As you wish, Master Glim,’ he conceded. ‘Take your seat and we shall continue. When we are finished here, you will be dealt with.’

‘Master Glim!’ Eric began, but Master Glim silenced him with a stern glance.

‘Come,’ Master Glim urged them, ‘let’s sit quietly and watch.’

The magicians in the chamber all gradually returned to their places, mumbling and bickering amongst themselves as they went. When Samuel and his group had seated themselves a few benches back, Goodfellow whispered over to Master Glim.

‘What are we going to do?’ he asked.

Master Glim again raised a calming palm. ‘We cannot risk such a confrontation here. We must wait for another chance.’

‘But we can’t let him take the Staff,’ Samuel whispered. ‘Once he has it, none of us will be able to stop him.’

‘What would you have us do, Samuel?’ Master Glim hissed, for the first time showing signs of ill temper, ‘-start a battle here? The palace would fall down around us and we’d all be killed. We must wait and see what will unfold.’

Samuel conceded and sat back in his seat.

‘Then, let us continue,’ Lord Irshank called out, ‘and, after all this ruckus, I think we’ll just omit all the formalities and get straight to the heart of the matter.’

In front of them, High Lord Rimus has taken a seat on a nearby seat, casually crossing his legs, while the five councillors who had bound the Staff of Elders-Lords Vander, Irshank, Butler, Needle and Joneson- now formed a circle around it. They began to spell and Samuel could feel that their power was intensely focused. Their weaves struck out at the Staff and their spells then began to intermingle. Samuel marvelled at the sight, for the five men were acting entirely by feel. They had no way of directing their weaves visually as Samuel could. They continued for a long while, slowly untying their own knots of power, releasing the knots of the spells beside them. Eventually, Samuel could see that the process was almost done and they began to quicken their pace as their dispelling neared its end. Sweat was beading on their foreheads and, finally, the Manyspell lock around the great Staff of Elders fell away and was gone.

‘What do we do now?’ Eric whispered to Master Glim.

‘I don’t know,’ was their teacher’s only reply and Samuel realised that the man really did not have any plan at all.

‘Is it done then?’ Rimus asked and, on spying a weary nod from Lord Irshank, he stood up and went over to the Staff of Elders. ‘Wonderful!’ he said and plucked the Staff out of its cradle. He began turning it over and examining the thing in his hands, looking very pleased.

‘The Royal Guard are here!’ someone called down from the doorway.

Rimus glanced up, looking very pleased. ‘At last! Tell them they can take these traitors away.’

A golden-armoured soldier stepped through the doorway, but it was not some lowly guard as Rimus expected. It was General Ruardin, himself.

‘What’s going on here?’ he shouted out across the chamber as a host of soldiers began to file in and line the walls on either side of him. Captain Orrell came in last and stood beside the general. He looked quite flushed and he seemed anxious.

Rimus’ smile seemed to lose some of its sincerity and his lips began twitching around the edges, as if tired of their unnatural pose. ‘Thank you for coming, General!’ Rimus called up to the imposing general. ‘You’re just in time. The traitors have finally been caught. You can take them away with you now.’

Ruardin shook his head and walked part-way down the stairs. ‘I don’t think so. I understand that there is more going on here than I have been told.’ And he looked around the chamber, scrutinising the magicians there. Everyone seemed to squirm under his gaze. ‘I’m fed up with you magicians and your schemes. What’s happening here? Why wasn’t I told of this?’

‘We didn’t think you needed to know,’ Lord Irshank replied. ‘With all the events in the palace, we didn’t want to trouble you.’

‘I need to know everything !’ Ruardin boomed and every magician in the room shrank back, for the man’s presence was overpowering. ‘What gives you all the nerve to hold this ceremony without my knowledge or consent? What gives you all the right to hand out the Staff of Elders as if it were a child’s plaything?’

‘It’s Order business, General,’ the stocky Lord Vander replied defiantly.

‘There is no Order business!’ Ruardin shouted back. The veins in his temples were staring to pulse with anger. ‘Everything is Empire business! Your precious Staff of Elders belongs to the Empire, and the Empire, not the Order, chooses whom to give it to and when to give it!’

‘Excuse us, General,’ Vander peeped, but Ruardin barely heard him.

‘I want this ceremony to cease,’ Ruardin continued, ‘and I have questions for all of you-especially you , High Lord Rimus! From this point on, I am assuming you are all guilty of treason until the Empress is found and some questions can be answered.’

Rimus surprised the room by laughing out loud and all eyes turned to him with disbelief. Few people would dare scoff in the general’s presence.

‘You old goat!’ Rimus said. His grin now looked evil and quite out of place, somehow not suited to his face. Samuel sensed a change in his attitude. Even his voice seemed different, somehow awfully familiar. ‘I couldn’t care less about your Empress or your pathetic Empire. All I have ever wanted is power-and now I have it! You see, the ceremony has already finished and with this, the Staff of Elders, in my hands, no one-least of all you, General-can stop me.’

‘What! ’ Ruardin roared out, putting his hand to the hilt of his sword.