Hasdrubal's Tale

Chapter Two

Uncle Mago was not a very nice man.

It was true that, as our father’s younger brother, he had become our guardian when the family took us from our father’s lair. It was also true he’d had as little to do with us as humanly possible. We were raised by servants who didn’t — couldn’t — teach us any of the family magics, let alone share the secrets passed down from generation to generation of the family bloodline. Bastard children were treated as trueborn members of House Barca, but not us. I suspected quite a few of our elders and so-called betters had argued for our destruction, when they found out what our father had done. They certainly didn’t feel any obligation to treat us as our father’s heirs.

He sat behind his desk, hands resting on his ample belly, and listened as Void and I gave our report. He was unusually fat for a magician and ugly too, despite enough magic to give himself the looks of a demigod. Short dark hair hung in ringlets around a puffy face, beady dark eyes studying us as we talked. His robes — the finest money and good breeding could buy — failed to hide his figure. It was not nice of us to make fun of his weight, even though it was clear proof he was a lazy bastard, but we disliked him. How could we not? He was the gatekeeper standing between us and family acceptance.

It was hard to keep my face composed as he stared at us. We were grown adults. We shouldn’t be forced to stand respectfully in front of his desk, as if we were naughty boys in need of a thrashing. My nails dug into my palms as I held my hands behind my back, forcing myself to resist the urge to tell him how I really felt. We told ourselves otherwise, when we talked about it, but we feared he’d never give us the acceptance we sought. The family was happy to use us, just not to acknowledge us.

“And so we sealed off the ruins and left them isolated,” I finished. There’d be hordes of looters descending on the pile of debris, if I was any judge, searching the remains in hopes of locating magical items or rare and valuable books. Our wards would hopefully keep them from stealing anything, at least long enough for our uncle to arrange for the remains to be searched and secured. We’d been cautioned not to do it ourselves. “The mission was completed successfully.”

Uncle Mago’s face went an interesting colour. “We wanted the mansion intact!”

I opened my mouth to say something I’d probably regret, but Void spoke first. “Then perhaps you should have mentioned it, when you were giving us our marching orders,” he said, in reasonable tones that dripped poison. “You merely wished the mansion’s wards to be dismantled.”

“Which doesn’t require you to destroy the entire mansion, does it?” Uncle Mago glared at him. I could feel his wards flickering and flaring around the chamber. “What were you thinking?”

“I dare say the owner of the mansion wanted his secrets to die with him,” Void said, sardonically. “What sort of idiot uses his own wards to keep his home intact, unless he wants it to collapse when he dies?”

“It lasted beyond his death,” Uncle Mago snapped. “Or it would be rubble before you even arrived!”

I gritted my teeth. None of us liked our uncle, like I’d said, but Void actively hated him. He’d been in line for an apprenticeship with one of the most brilliant magicians of our generation, before our uncle had… convinced… the magician to withdraw his acceptance and take a trueborn member of House Barca instead. It had been all we could do to convince Void not to challenge Uncle Mago to a duel, or simply take him down like a rabid dog or maddened necromancer. I had no doubt Void could take him — the simple fact Uncle Mago never met us outside his wards was clear proof he feared us, even if he’d never admit it — but it would have made us all outlaws. I figured there were quite a few elders who wanted us to kill our uncle and run. They’d get rid of the four of us and our uncle in a single moment.

“There was a demon in there, waiting for us,” I said, before the threat of open violence turned to reality. “A demon none of us knew to expect. We were very lucky we didn’t blunder into the circle before realising what was waiting for us.”

“Yes.” Void’s tone didn’t harden. “Why didn’t your… sources… tell us what to expect?”

“They didn’t know,” Uncle Mago said. “How could they?”

“They were quick to demand the mansion,” Void countered. “Didn’t they know what to expect?”

“They had very little contact with the former owner,” Uncle Mago said. “I don’t think they knew very much about what he was doing, alone in his lair.”

I snorted. He was still careful not to mention the man by name. I’d done some research, while waiting for him to condescend to see us, but drawn a blank. The sudden collapse of the empire and the rise of the new kingdoms had rendered all the records useless, when they weren’t actively being destroyed. Every newly-crowned king and sword-waving warlord had a pedigree — now — that stretched all the way back to the time of legends, never mind that half of them were put together from fragments and the other half were made up of whole cloth. I was pretty sure most of the fragments were entirely fictional too. They’d just lasted long enough for them to become taken for truth.

Void leaned forward. “And did these people truly inherit the mansion, or were they hoping to lay claim to it after the owner’s death? Were you hoping you’d be able to take the mansion for yourself?”

Uncle Mago’s eyes flashed murder. “Are you daring to imply that I wanted the mansion for myself?”

“Well,” Void said. “You told us nothing about who wanted it done. You told us nothing about what awaited us… and really, anyone who wanted to inherit a mansion should have at least a rough idea what sort of experiments were conducted within the wards, particularly if they might wind up getting the blame for them. And you have access to a highly-skilled team” — he made a show of puffing out his chest in a manner calculated to get on our uncle’s nerves — “that could do the job, without asking too many questions. It isn’t exactly impossible you’d wanted us to do the mission for you.”

I kept my face carefully blank. Magicians had been spying on each other since the very first days of organised magic. The layers upon layers of protections surrounding the family mansion and grounds — and the rest of our properties — weren’t there because we felt safe, but because we knew we had enemies constantly trying to worm scrying spells through our wards. It was true even at school. We’d spied on our enemies and they’d spied on us and constantly sharpened our protective spells on each other… by the gods, there was even a private but widely known reward for anyone at Whitehall who managed to steal the final exam papers from the grandmaster’s office. The idea of Uncle Mago sending us to snatch a mansion from a dead man — and his relatives — wasn’t that far-fetched. The Empire was gone. No one knew how the new world would develop, in the months and years to come.

And the family might wind up ruling its own little kingdom, I reflected. The Empire had kept a check on over-ambitious magicians, preventing them from stepping out of line. They’d tried to keep a balance of power and… and that was gone now. I doubted King Alexis of Zangaria or any of his peers would put up more than token resistance if the family decided it wanted their kingdom. It’s astonishing how cooperative people become if you threaten to turn them into rabbits and set their own dogs on them.

“I do not choose to listen to such assertions,” Uncle Mago said, composing himself with a very visible effort. I feared it boded ill for the future. “Nor will the family, if you bring it to them.”

I shrugged. Void might be right… but we’d never be able to prove it. The family council had decided to leave us in the hands of our guardian, rather than treat us as the adults we were. Uncle Mago had probably covered his tracks very well… and even if he hadn’t, the family council might quietly approve of his plans. If nothing else, they’d wanted to search the mansion before they handed it over to the dead man’s peers. Who knew what a sorcerer who’d kept himself to himself for decades might have hidden away in his lair?

“I’m sure they would have forgiven you, if your little scheme worked,” Void said. “But alas! It failed.”

“And now I have to go explain to my allies that their relative’s mansion is a pile of rubble,” Uncle Mago said. “Do you think they’ll pay the fee?”

“They damn well should,” I said, sharply. “There was a demon in the mansion. A demon, and enough traps to kill anyone who wasn’t extremely wary and capable. If that monster had broken free, and it would have if they’d blundered into the trap, it would have been extremely difficult to banish it back to the darkness. And then they’d be blamed for the outcome.”

“If they survived,” Void put in.

“If,” I agreed. “They should be extremely grateful that they don’t have to worry about a rampaging demon. Or an overgrown garden infested with wild magic. They can take possession of the rubble, clean it up and start building another mansion. Or even abandon it to the wild.”

Uncle Mago scowled. “Do you think that’ll impress them?”

“I’m sure you can make it clear they came this close” — I held my hand up, my thumb and forefinger so close together they were practically touching — “to utter disaster. They owe us.”

“Yes,” Void agreed. “Or should I say, you owe us.”

Uncle Mago snorted. “I will speak to my contacts,” he said. “And then determine the bounty.”

“You mean you’ll speak to yourself,” Void said. “Why don’t you just pay yourself too?”

I nudged him. He was probably right — Uncle Mago had sent us on the mission for the family, not for his unnamed sources — but there was no proof. And even if we had the proof, the family wouldn’t give a damn. They’d lost the chance to search the mansion, but they hadn’t accidentally released a demon. Or been caught trying to steal someone’s patrimony before they even knew they had it. I made a mental note to look into the matter a little further. It might be interesting to discover who had really owned the mansion.

Right now, property belongs to whoever has the strength to take and keep it, I reflected sourly. Law and order lay in ruins, lost with the empire that had once ruled us all. If a powerful magician wants something, he can take it and no one can say no.

It was a depressing thought. A man alone was a man vulnerable. It was important in this day and age to belong to a family, to have powerful patrons protecting you from the world in exchange for your support. I knew of freemen surrendering to the inevitable and becoming serfs, giving up their independence and freedom for a little safety; I’d watched minor noblemen bend the knee to kings and princes, swearing fealty in exchange for protection from their enemies. The four of us were powerful, yet even we couldn’t be sure of being safe if the family kicked us out. Uncle Mago had us over a barrel and we knew it.

“I will contact you,” Uncle Mago said. “Until then, you can wait in your house.”

I felt a hot flash of anger. The house wasn’t a bad place to live, certainly when compared to school dorms or peasant shacks, but it wasn’t in the mansion. We should have had an entire suite to ourselves, as our father’s sons. We should have been welcomed to adulthood and invited to take places on the council, rather than dumped in an isolated house on the edge of the ground. It was a very clear hint we weren’t welcome. Even the lowest of servants got to sleep in the house.

“Oh, we can, can we?” Void met his eyes. “And the Gathering?”

I leaned forward, trying to quash the spurt of hope in my heart. The Gathering was an assembly of the entire family, a ceremony when every adult member reaffirmed our commitment to the family name and pledged eternal loyalty to our brethren. Children weren’t invited, save for the ones on the cusp of maturity. They were presented to the family and hailed, from that moment on, as adults. Uncle Mago should have presented us years ago…

… But he hadn’t.

Uncle Mago let out a heavy sigh. “I discussed the matter with the council,” he said. I laid a quiet bet with myself the council would be astonished to hear it. “They said no.”

Void’s magic flared. “If not now, then when?”

“That’s a matter for the council to decide,” Uncle Mago said. It was hard to take him seriously. He sat in a heavily warded mansion, protected by a web of charms that would daunt even a Lone Power, and yet he was reluctant to say it out loud. “They are still concerned about you…”

I spoke, quickly. “We are twenty-five years old,” I said. “We earned the highest marks at Whitehall, completed our apprenticeships—” I ignored Void’s growl “—in record time and, since then, have carried out an entire string of missions for you and the family. We have faced dark wizards, we have probed the remains of ruined cities, we have even gone deep into the Blighted Lands to examine debris left behind by the war. We are the family’s foremost agents, with a record unsurpassed since the days of legend. What must we do?”

Uncle Mago hesitated. “Your father…”

“Our father has nothing to do with this,” I said, feeling the old pain welling up. If our father had stood with us, or raised us, our lives would have been very different. “Last year, the family welcomed children — adults — who barely graduated school, including one who came within a hair’s breadth of being expelled for feeding someone a love potion. Why not us?”

My magic pulsed, demanding release. It wasn’t fair. Traditionally, children were recognised as adults when they left school. We’d been out of school for nearly four years and we were still considered children. It was silly. Anyone else, anywhere else, would see us as grown men, powerful enough to impose their will on the world. I wondered, not for the first time, if we shouldn’t just leave. The world was changing, the map being redrawn with every passing day. We could find a castle and take it for ourselves, or even take possession of a kingdom or a barony or…

We didn’t want power. Not that sort of power. We wanted acceptance.

“The family is gravely concerned about you,” Uncle Mago said. “The circumstances of your… conceptions and births were worrying, as you know, and the twists in your magic equally so. We don’t know what to make of you and…”

“And you have given us the cold shoulder since we were children,” Void snapped. “We didn’t ask to be born!”

“I will continue to raise the issue with the council,” Uncle Mago said. “Until then, you need to convince them that their fears are groundless and that they have no reason to worry about you. I know it seems unfair, but…”

I scowled. “What sort of proof would they accept?”

Uncle Mago said nothing. I doubted he had an answer. Strange magics were always worrying, at least until they were properly understood. The council didn’t know how our father had planned our birth, or linked us together at a very primal level, or even… they’d thought, from what I’d heard later, that we might even come into our magic as children. It was lucky we hadn’t. We’d have killed ourselves if the council hadn’t killed us — executed us — first.

“You’re never going to do it, are you?” Void’s voice chilled me to the bone. He’d given up hope. “The family will never accept us.”

“Acceptance takes time,” Uncle Mago said. I thought I heard a flicker of doubt — or fear — in his voice. “And you have to work towards it.”

“And how long should we keep working,” Void demanded, “when we have no idea what will be enough? You have seen us as adult magicians, doing your dirty work, for years! What more do you want?”

I saw Uncle Mago flinch. “It takes time…”

“How long?” Void’s magic flared. “How long do you think you can keep us dangling on the edge of a string, begging for favours…?”

“We took you in,” Uncle Mago said. “And we gave you everything.”

“And yet you kept us at arm’s length,” Void said. “What does it take?”

He turned and left, closing the door behind him. Uncle Mago looked at me.

“Your brother is upset,” he said, as if I couldn’t see it for myself. “And that is part of the reason the family is reluctant to accept you…”

“He’s right to be upset,” I said, tartly. It really wasn’t fair. We’d done so much and it wasn’t enough. “How much more do you want us to do?”

And on that note, I swung around and left the room myself.