Michael Manning - Mageborn - The Blacksmith’s Son

“May I come in sir?” he said in his best ‘I may be a servant but I’m still better than you’ tone. It's amazing how much information some people can convey with simple inflections. I might ask him for lessons later. I stepped back so he could enter.

“I don’t suppose you have any food on you?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Lunch is already over sir, but if you dress now you might persuade cook to let you have some leftovers.” he answered with a hint of a smile. The bastard knew full well what the cook thought of people who missed mealtimes. I wasn’t falling for it.

“Since you mentioned dressing, would you mind assisting me?” My native intelligence was working overtime.

“I believe that is what young Marcus intended when he asked me to check on you sir,” he replied. Fifteen minutes later I was dressed again. Benchley’s hands were surer than Penny’s when it came to doublet laces, but then I guess he had more experience dressing men. I also made note that he didn’t stand behind and reach around me to do up the laces. That should have told me something but I was too preoccupied to think on it.

Once he was finished with me Benchley left, and frankly I was relieved to be alone. I needed to think. The valet had been his usual imperturbable self, so I inferred that no hue and cry had gone up this morning. Most likely his lordship Devon Tremont was lying low wondering who had caught him with his pants down and whether retribution would be coming. I was naive to think that, but I knew little of aristocrats.

Since I thought it might be safe I ventured out to look for Penny, and perhaps steal some food if any happened to be lying about unattended. I had no luck finding Penny, or Marcus, or Dorian for that matter. Everyone seemed to have found better things to do than wait for me to get out of bed. Fortune was more kind when it came to food, I stumbled across young Timothy clearing tables in the great hall and he let me take large piece of roast pheasant that someone had left behind. I wrapped it in a piece of cloth and added partial loaf of bread from another plate. Timothy gave me one of his gap-toothed grins. I winked at him, and spoils in hand I retreated to my room to plot my next move.

Once I had eaten I decided to make use of my free time to study some more. I delved into ‘ A Grammar of Lycian’. Two hours later and my head was spinning. I have a knack for languages but Lycian seemed designed to twist a man’s tongues in knots. The verb tenses were also confusing, why anyone needed a ‘past progressive’ or a ‘simple future perfect’ tense eluded me. I decided to focus on memorizing vocabulary since I thought it might be more useful to start there. Another hour and I had had enough, so I switched to Vestrius’ journal. With my slightly less ignorant grasp of Lycian I began to comprehend a bit more of what he had learned in his first few weeks of training.

Most of it was not particularly pertinent to disposing of evil sons of rival dukedoms, but one piece did catch my eye as fairly useful. My use of the sleep spell on Devon the night before had made me acutely aware of how easily someone could be rendered helpless. I was more than a little worried that he might be able to do something similar to me in the future, since I half suspected him of being a wizard himself. I wasn’t the first mage to have such thoughts apparently. A lot of attention was given to the methods which could be used to shield a mage’s mind and body from harmful outside influences, or in some cases the results of his own mistakes.

The simplest method was to shutter the mind. Some men I learned were born with no ability to manipulate aythar at all. They were known as ‘stoics’ and I recognized the type in my friend Dorian. A mage could, with some practice, mimic their ability, or rather their lack of ability, and gain the same benefits. To do so would temporarily rob me of my ‘sight’ while shielding my mind from external influences. Because of its disadvantages it was primarily used at night to protect oneself while sleeping since it required no active effort.

The hardest part of mastering it was finding a way to tell if I had successfully ‘shut’ my mind. Eventually I hit on the idea of staring at the book on Lycian. Since normal folk couldn’t see its glow I could use it to tell when I had properly closed myself off. It didn’t take long for me to manage it after that. The sensation was akin to shutting your eyes, and it unsettled me more than I thought it would. Without being aware of it I had already begun to rely on subtle cues my magesight allowed me. Closing it off made me feel blind. I decided that I agreed with the mages of yore, sleep would be the best time for it.

The second method was to create a shield of aythar. The technique could be used in several ways depending on how much and what type of protection was desired. The least tiring was to create an internal shield that protected only the practitioner's mind. The result was similar to the other method with the exception that you could still use your ‘sight’ and abilities without impairment. Slightly more involved was the creation of a shield covering the entire body to protect one from physical as well as magical assaults. According to the legends in Vestrius’ journal some great wizards were able to manage this during all their waking hours. The legends made it clear that not only were the great wizards paranoid, but they were well justified in their paranoia. Sometimes even that protection was not enough to save them.

Lastly, in times of need, some wizards had been able to create shields extending much farther from their bodies, to protect friends and sometimes even buildings. It was considered risky, since the effort could exhaust the caster and a particularly strong assault might even kill them if it used up more power than they had to give.

I practiced with both types, first trying to protect just my mind. Without someone to test it for me I couldn’t be sure I had done it properly, but the amount of energy it required was negligible. Producing a large shield to protect my entire body was easier, though it required more effort. Since it extended just beyond my body I could actually see the energy as it enveloped me. It was nearly imperceptible, even to my sight, but by modifying the spell slightly I found I could color it with visible light, making it easier to see.

I found these exercises tiring but they left me feeling better about my ability to protect myself. Still it was a relief when a knock interrupted me. I had shielded the divan (as a stand in for another person) and I was attempting to beat it to death with the chair. I failed to stop myself in time and Marc opened the door just as I struck it for the final time. This was my third swing at it, and this time instead of simply rebounding the chair had splintered with a resounding ‘crack’.

“If you are that upset with the room’s appointments I could have let you trade apartments with someone else,” he said in a droll tone.

“Ah… this isn’t what it looks like.” I said, giving him a sheepish look.

“If this was the first time you had said that to me I might doubt you, but knowing you I honestly believe it,” he said with a laugh. “Seriously though, why are you hell bent on smashing up the furniture?”

I thought for a moment before I smiled, “Second law of magic.”

We had been bantering since we were kids so he played along, “Which is?”

“Try new spells on the furniture before you risk other people or pets,” I rattled off.

He laughed, “So what’s the first law?”

I took a professorial pose and lifted my hand in an imperious manner, “Try new spells on other people or pets before you risk yourself.”

We laughed a bit, and it felt good. Things had been so tense lately it was nice to be reminded of our younger days. “So why have you come in search of me young supplicant? Love potions? A cure for the piles? All things are within the power of the great Mordecai.”