A Knife For A Spell

A Tale of the Three Towers

The laws of magic are carved into a great, grey stone atop a grassy hill. The letters are in the ancient tongue, and they stretch into the stone deeper than a spear’s length. Each word is shaped finer than a lace weave, and the writing covers the east and west sides of the stone. This great stone takes twenty paces to circle, and stretches nearly as high. No tool now known to man can carve its polished surface. Some scholars say the stone extends into the ground, where the sins of magic are etched, upside down and reversed. The laws see the rising and setting sun, but the transgressions live only in darkness.

Surrounding this monolith of adamant are three other hills, and atop each of these is one of the Three Towers, built by wizards and builders of ages past. These towers are the world’s foremost school of magic. Only the best and brightest may attend, for the secrets, and the dangers, of the towers are not to be dismissed. This is a story of a student of the Three Towers. A story of a student with his own secrets, and his own dangers.

***

“Friend badger? Are you there, grumpy one?” Eadric spoke into a deep hole, nestled among the gnarled roots of a huge red oak. The tunnel sloped gently down, then curved abruptly upwards, creating a defensive hill from which the badger could hold high-ground against interlopers. The roots of the tree traced a natural pattern on the tunnel walls. A scuffle ran up from the back of hole, and a slip of dirt trickled from behind the upward curve. Eadric knew the summoning spell for this creature, and this time when he spoke, he cast it.

Another scuffle and trickle of dirt. Then the hole quieted.

Eadric sighed, and recentered himself. This was the only summoning spell he knew, and it was much more difficult to cast than simple illusion or binding spells, even more difficult than change magic. He was a talented student, according to Brother Kevin. Yet Eadric had only summoned the beast sporadically, if in fact it was his magic that brought it out. He cast the summons again, and he sensed the message pass into the earth. He waited, breathless. The wind rustled the trees, but the tunnel remained silent.

Eadric raised his voice, “I know you’re there, you rat-faced bastard, come out!”

The white-striped head shot down from the curve, and pearly teeth gleamed in the sunlight. Eadric smirked back at the growling, furious, approaching badger. He jerked back as the creature suddenly charged forward with a snarl and snap.

“I tried being polite!” Once the beast was half emerged, Eadric dropped to one knee, and cast a whispered greeting to the badger.

The creature slowly lowered its growling lips, then shrank its billowed shoulders, and finally rested itself, watching Eadric. The whisper had worked.

“Well, that’s something. Thank you, my friend.” Eadric seated himself on the sloping hill, still under the shade of the immense tree. The forest thinned slightly around the giant, while its sprawling roots covered the top and surrounding area. Nestled in those gnarled fingers lurked three more entrances to the badger’s burrow. Eadric had never found them all, but the badger had told him. “You know the secrets of this hill, badger. Would you share them with me?”

The badger remained perfectly still.

Eadric tried again. “Tell me your secrets, tree-guard.”

No response.

Eadric spoke to the badger in the ancient tongue for a while. He used every ounce of his skill; he willed the badger to hear him and respond. He asked the badger for any secrets, den related or otherwise. He felt the magic flow out of him, for he was strong in the ancient language. He asked, and waited, barely daring to breathe. The badger watched him, unblinking. Suddenly it seemed to Eadric the animal was responding: its breath changed, the forest fell away, and Eadric could sense a moment of absolute clarity when one heard, and knew, magic revealed. Then the badger jumped up, chattered wildly, snarled, and made a lunge at Eadric, which sent him sprawling. The badger bared its teeth, resumed growling, and then backed into its tunnel.

Eadric scrambled to his feet, slipped, and fell over on the uneven ground. “Fine! You giant rat! See if I ever bring you treats again, selfish little dirt-eater!” Eadric shouted at the vacant hole. “I mean it! I’m never coming back here!” But the badger was nonplussed, and the hole remained clear. Eadric started down the hill, feeling hopeless and at a loss for what to do next.

He pushed his way into the thicker parts of the forest, following a deer trail. The first time he had ventured into these woods, he had lost himself. Brother Kevin had found him. That was how they met. “The secrets of the wood come to those who have the patience of a tree.” He had often said to Eadric. “But it looks like you have the patience of an idiot.” Brother Kevin would then roar with laughter. Eadric never got the joke, but he did miss hearing it.

That was it: Brother Kevin’s rock! In a not-so distant stream there was a rock on which Brother Kevin would sit and listen to the magic of the forest. IT was there that Brother Kevin had learned the names of the maples and oaks, and could command the trees to move. Eadric picked up the pace, excited to have a direction now, his failure with the badger nearly forgotten.

The badger should have been his trump card, for it was his great, secret accomplishment. Two months ago, he had heard the badger’s name and successfully summoned the creature. Eadric had felt like an archmage of old, and he had thought to command all the beasts of the forest. But time and testing had proved he could summon and speak with only the badger, and inconsistently at best. True, the badger had given him some whispers, but no full spells. And the whispers were about food, moving through the woods, and staying away from the badger's den. Good for a camping trip maybe, but no use in a duel. Brother Kevin had known so much magic it had staggered Eadric. Surely the stream-stone would be a good place to sit and listen. He might even learn some change spells that could be used on the trees!

When he reached the stream, Eadric hesitated for just a moment. Brother Kevin’s rock was in the middle of a deep pool, about twenty feet from the bank. Eadric could not swim, but he knew the depth from watching Brother Kevin wade out to his favorite meditation and lecture spot. Fearing the upcoming duel more than the rushing water, he pushed forward, grimacing as the liquid rose around him.

All was well until he was a mere ten feet from the rock. He realized the current had moved him downstream, and if it pushed him anymore he would miss the rock completely. He stopped suddenly, which caused his feet to slip on the stones below. His head bounced in and out of the water. Sputtering, he frantically tried to steady himself against the current’s pressure, but his feet found only unsteady ground. He started to panic. Fear floated up from his belly into his neck and filled his head. He was too frightened to risk another step, but the flow of water was inching his wobbling feet towards disaster. Maybe it was better this way, he thought, to stand and let the stream take him. It would be horrible only for a moment, but then it wouldn’t be. He wouldn’t have to fight Lance. He just had to stay still, float away, sink.

No more fear.

No more Lance.

Lucas.

He would never see Lucas again.

Lucas would be alone. A ball of sadness surprised his fear. The rising sorrow bobbed up and swallowed the panic; he had a moment of self-mastery. Eadric acted; he surged forward in one, two, three steps and grasped wildly at the rock. His fingernails caught bits of shale, and his booted feet flailed against the green film below. He clawed his way onto the stone. Soaked and terrified, he lay still on his belly.

He lay for what felt like a long time. But, as the terror subsided, he felt a welling sense of pride. He was on Brother Kevin’s rock!

Quickly, he shifted to a seated position and regulated his breathing. Hearing magic was a different skill than learning from scrolls and books. While meditation in nature was one of the best ways to improve spellcasting ability, learning names and spells through hearing alone was a different matter. Some wizards spent years in one place to learn a single word or spell, and this was no guarantee of success. As Brother Kevin used to say:

“All a man can do is listen…” Eadric spoke softly, inhaling and exhaling while the droplets of water cascaded down his hair and clothes. “...with the patience of a tree.”

He heard the stream, it splashed against the rock and licked the bank. Leaping droplets landed on grass, dipping the blades up and down with gentle bows. The slender green touched maple and oak leaves as they tried to fly on trickles of the wind. Riding atop the scattered breeze, squirrel chitters soared over the water and into the trees beyond sight. A raven ruffled his feathers as a young stag stepped underneath, antlers still velveted. Eadric could not see them, but he knew they were there. He inhaled. The stag was unconcerned, confident and strong. This was not its first spring. He would be a great one in the woods, for he had been great in the winter. He was looking for something, anxious for…The ancient tongue fell over Eadric like a silk sheet. Too wide, soft, and smooth to identify, too close not to know intimately. He heard it, but it slipped away like a half-remembered song. He breathed in and out, his heartbeat rising…

The stag ran into the woods, the raven cawed and flew, and then the wind flicked a leaf into his face and it was wet and cold and the magic was gone. He opened his eyes.

The sun was setting. He needed light to find his way home. Frustrated, and ignoring all sounds, Eadric left.

***

Eadric walked, still soaked, up to the door of the little hut he and Lucas shared. “Hut” may have been too harsh for the sturdy shack, but all the students and several of the teachers called the off-grounds housing “huts.” The thick, wooden slabs made a square around the pebble-beaten floor. A single-angle roof, of the same thick wooden slabs, completed the squat structure, interrupted only by the simple clay-brick chimney at the back of the roof. Tar, cleanly poured and neatly applied, filled in the openings between the wooden boards. Two windows were cut into the walls. One on the east side and one on the west. A pane of horn filled the eastern one, while the western window was open to the elements. Eadric pulled the rope-latch and habitually slammed his shoulder into the heavy door. Stepping in, he ducked his head; even though at the highest part of the roof he could stand with ease.

Lucas scrambled out of his reclining position, nearly tossing the book he was reading aside. Eadric was too tired to yell at him about it, and he had other things to worry about. He stood in the dimly lit room for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the fading light.

“Did you hear anything?” asked Lucas.

“No,” said Eadric.

“Nothing?”

“No.”

“Did you find any animals to speak to?”

“No.” Eadric walked to the fire-pit, and stood next to the table and shelves.

“You didn’t even talk to the badger?”

“Lucas, I said I didn't hear anything.”

“Did you get in the water?” said Lucas, looking at Eadric’s still wet clothing.

“Yes, Lucas. That’s why I’m wet.”

“Why?”

“Lucas, can you not? I’m tired and hot and wet, and I just want a drink.”

Lucas pinched and rolled a piece of the blanket in his fists while he watched Eadric. Eadric poured the water from the pitcher into a small, tin kettle, and then set the kettle on the cooking stone. He stoked the fire, turning over dead, white ashes to uncover roiling coals. Lucas waited, but Eadric kept tending the fire.

“Maybe if you were out at night, it would be quieter. You could probably hear something then,” said Lucas, letting go of the blanket and putting his hands on his knees.

The water in the kettle began to bubble.

“Or if it was winter! It’s so quiet in winter. You can hear everything in winter. That’s when you heard the badger’s name, remember?”

Eadric stood up and grabbed the pouch that held the tea. It slipped from his fingers the first time and he had to snatch at it again. He tossed the flap open and dug out the tea, then began stuffing the leaves into the strainer.

“Maybe you could hear ‘frost,’ or ‘cold,’ or even ‘ice!’ What if you heard ‘frozen?’ Can you imagine? Then you could…”

“Shut up, Lucas! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Eadric whirled around. “It isn't winter! It's hot! Birds are singing, and everything is green, and I didn't hear anything! Just shut up!”

Lucas held still, and he locked his gaze on Eadric’s left knee. Eadric, tea strainer still in hand, looked at Lucas’s face, then cast his gaze around the room, searching for something. Neither of them spoke. Eadric’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, until the kettle whistled.

With a sudden sigh, Eadric turned back to the kettle and busied himself with making tea. He took his time, not looking back. He finished the cup, stood for a moment, and then reached for the only other piece of ceramic in the hut. He made a second cup of tea, sighed again, and turned to Lucas. His 8-year-old brother was lying face-down on the bed, the green blanket clenched still in his small fists.

He shook with silent weeping.

***

James knocked on the hut’s door in the cold grey of pre-dawn. He knocked quietly, but Eadric pulled open the door after only one thump.

“Are you ready?” said James.

“I just need a minute,” whispered Eadric. He motioned James inside, pressing his finger to his lips and pointing at the sleeping Lucas.

Covering the small table were three books, a large vellum scroll, Eadric’s quills and charcoal, two ink bottles, some loose papers and parchment scrolls, the oil wraps that held his notes and personal research, a small, toy Snap-Stick made from a dried reed, and a little purse that held all the money Eadric and Lucas had for the year. Eadric plucked from the paper pile two envelopes, both sealed with the sigil he had fashioned for himself: A plough crossed with a wizard’s staff. He put one of the letters on the topmost book, where it would be easily seen. He then softly approached Lucas, bent down, kissed his little brother’s forehead, then left the hut with James.

Once the door closed and the latch fell shut, Lucas opened his eyes. He crept to the westward window and peeked out. He watched his brother and their friend till they were out of sight.

Eadric and James followed the path out of the clearing where the huts were built. Several other students were milling about, bringing in water for the day and stoking their outdoor fires. The spring morning was already quite warm. Once the two young men were alone and well into the forest path, Eadric handed the envelope to James. “This is for you.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna need it. Besides, all your stuff is terrible.”

Eadric stopped, and kept the envelope extended. “It’s about Lucas.”

James was still reluctant, but he accepted the envelope. They resumed their journey, following the well-trod path. Even though the trail was four or five paces wide, and cleared regularly, the giant oaks, maples, yew, and spruces canopied the area and gave only the briefest glimpses of the distant wizard towers.

“Weird to think I might not ever go back there,” Eadric said. The dawn sun raced down around them, making slanted pillars of light for them to pass through.

“Just mess his hair up. He’ll die instantly from the shock.”

“I don’t know that spell.”

“Hell, just threaten to mess his hair up. He’ll beg for mercy.”

Eadric smiled.

“Yeah, or tell him his sleeves are slightly too short, but not bad enough that anyone would notice.” said James. “He’ll have a mental breakdown and call for his personal tailor. We won’t see him for a week while he redoes his wardrobe.”

“A week without Lance sounds nice.”

“You’ll be a hero! This might be the best thing that ever happened to us!” said James as they approached a fork in the path. A sign made of curled, elegantly shaped steel pointed the way to the towers down the right fork. They turned left and followed a narrow path deeper into the forest. They went north-west, the same direction Eadric had gone yesterday to reach the badger and the stream. James’s last comment hung in the air for a moment.

“I think the best thing that could have ever happened to me would be not to speak to Lance, ever,” said Eadric.

“Maybe.”

“No. No maybe.”

“Come on, Eadric,” said James, clapping his friend on the back. “He’s not invincible. And you’re farmer strong! You have just as good a chance as anyone.”

“He’s killed at least four people.”

“We don’t know that for sure! Besides, that just means he’s bound to be cocky, and you’re a great caster!”

“What, and those other four weren't? One of them was supposed to graduate this summer!”

“What? No. And–they probably weren’t…”

“Weren’t what?”

“I dunno. You can’t worry about them. Brother Kevin said to deal with what’s in front of you. So, just do that.”

They walked in silence now, passing side-trails, human and animal made. One hour had passed since they had left the hut when they reached a tree stump wide enough to seat a family of five for dinner. Beyond the stump appeared to be nothing but a large thicket. Past that, more forest. The boys scanned the area quickly, looking and listening for anyone nearby. They saw no one, and heard only birds, wind, a slight shuffling and a falling branch from up the path. They waited longer, but no one appeared, and still they heard only the sounds of nature. Satisfied they were alone, they hopped onto the stump then dove through the thicket. On the other side was a path marked with red bricks, one dropped every ten to fifteen feet. They followed the bricks.

After ten minutes more, they could see the clearing ahead, as the path sloped up a long, low hill. This hidden glade was a well-kept secret amongst older students. It served many purposes: a private classroom for student seminars, a drinking area, a spot to practice dangerous or forbidden spells, and an arena for illegal wizard duels.

Seven duels had been fought here since fall studies had begun; more than one a month. The first three had been between noble-born students, and had been resolved without any deaths. Nobles dueling rarely raised an eyebrow. So long as no one died or was too badly hurt, and the contests were kept strictly amongst the aristocracy. The more recent duels were different. Lance, of the Black Swan clan, one of the most prestigious and powerful families in the kingdom, had participated in these four duels. Only one of them had been against another noble-born. Also, of the four duels that Lance had been a part of, none of the other students had been seen again. Nor had their seconds. Inquiries had been made by the teachers looking for the missing students, especially by Brother Kevin, but nothing–not a body, scrap of cloth, or even a rumor–had turned up. Lance, and his forever second, Yuri, denied any knowledge of dueling. All students denied knowing about the contests. Accusations required proof or witnesses, and no one wanted to incriminate themselves as a spectator. As for proof, that was harder to come by, especially with no remains of any sort. As far as the Three Towers was concerned, those eight missing students had all been lost in the woods. But the students knew that wasn’t true, and Brother Kevin had certainly suspected. Now Eadric and James were about to face the only two people who knew for sure what had happened in those other fights. All of this floated through their heads as they scraped over a level piece of stone that stretched across the path.

This stone was level with the path and stretched to the right, running down the hill, flat with the ground. But the left side of the stone extended up out of the ground and turned into an outcropping that marked the edge of the clearing. The stone jutted out of the earth, five feet high, and wrapped the entire western edge of the green. The rock angled smoothly into the ground on the grassy side, but on the wooded side it was a sheer drop. Students would lean against the smooth rock and brace their feet in the dirt strip that ran the length of the outcrop’s base. If someone were to scramble up and over the rock barrier, they could drop straight down and be completely hidden from anyone in the clearing. It was one of the reasons this spot was valuable for students. Whether they were practicing illicit magic, drinking, or fighting, they could quickly hide and steal away into the woods.

On the other side of the circle from where James and Eadric stood, fifty feet away, another path of red bricks lay at the northern end of the short-grassed glade. The boys looked around, but no one else was visible.

“It’s odd that no one has named this place,” said Eadric.

“Yeah they have. It’s ‘The Spot.’”

“That’s not a name. You couldn’t enchant it with that name.”

“You couldn’t?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe with a wand, or even a staff. Probably too big without them.”

“Maybe.”

The wind curled through the trees, and Eadric saw the very tip of his favorite red oak, off to the east. “It’s over that way.”

“What?” James had stepped over to the rock-wall, and was leaning comfortably.

“The badger’s tree.”

James squinted. “All trees look the same.”

“...to an idiot.”

“Tree-humper.”

The wind stopped. Eadric suddenly felt hot. He was standing in the full brilliance of the morning sun. “They’re late.”

James picked a long strand of grass and chewed the end. “Sleeping in, no doubt. He might not even show up.”

“I think he will.”

“You know he doesn't even leave his room, most of the time? Barely attends class.”

“He’s on the pitch a lot.”

“Still. He doesn’t even go into town. He’s some sort of weird shut-in. Maybe he just paid the others off, to make it seem like he’s dangerous. Maybe they’re off living a life of ease. Gods know he’s wealthy enough to do it.”

“I need to focus,” said Eadric, and James shrugged.

Eadric inhaled deeply. “Look, James, don’t…don’t do anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to cheat.”

“And you call me an idiot.”

“I don’t want to cheat!”

“Well, that’s wonderful to hear, Eadric!” Lance’s voice called out from the other side of the clearing. “Although, I would be surprised if one such as yourself was even capable of cheating properly!”

Eadric and James snapped to attention, as Lance and Yuri strode into the glade from the northern path. They were tall, broad-shouldered, and walked with a commanding presence. Lance, with golden hair impeccable and fair skin gleaming, walked a half-pace ahead of Yuri, who belonged to the Black Swan through service. Yuri’s father was a general from the far east, sworn to the Black Swan. Yuri’s complexion and hair betrayed his heritage, though he groomed in a poor imitation of Lance’s style.

Eadric ground his teeth as he and James walked to the center to meet them. “He shouts like a drunk,” James muttered.

“We’re already fighting, Lance. You don’t need to be more of an ass,” said Eadric as the four gathered in the center of the clearing.

“Oh, but ‘twould be a missed occasion not to engage in friendly ribbing before a duel,” said Lance, laughing.

“Let’s just get this over with,” said Eadric.

“Patience, patience! This isn’t a brawl, my dear Eadric. There are house traditions to uphold. Forms to be followed.” As he spoke, Lance’s gray eyes flitted from Eadric to James, from their faces to their feet, and back again.

“Forms? What forms?” said Eadric.

“There are proper rules and methods for a duel, farm boy,” said Yuri. “Clearly you don't know the process. The two parties declare their lineage, by which they claim trial by combat in the eyes of the gods. Then the offenses are read out. Then weapons and rules are chosen, as are seconds.”

“It's been done this way by the blessed families for generations. A great honor, really,” said Lance.

“I don’t give a damn.” Eadric clenched his fists. “I'm not a noble.”

“All the more reason to observe them, then,” said Lance, stepping closer and placing his hand on Eadric’s shoulder. James visibly tensed. “Eadric, my dear, I may not sully my hand against anyone born low. It would be unseemly. By my touch, and house authority, I declare you a noble servant of the Black Swan, Eadric Field-Born, for today.” He squeezed Eadric’s shoulder as he spoke.

Eadric opened his mouth to respond, but James jumped in: “Pompous ass.”

The other three turned towards him, and Eadric stepped away from Lance.

“This is between Eadric Field-Born and house Black Swan,” said Yuri. “If you insult my lord again, I shall consider it a breach of the agreement.”

“That was on behalf of Eadric. He wanted to say it, I could tell,” said James.

“Seconds are only to act if the primary cannot act,” said Yuri, opening a small scroll. “Keep your mouth shut unless you want to also offend the great house. May I begin, m’lord?”

“Please do.”

Yuri began reading, but Eadric heard James muttering something about dung-eating and m’lording. If Yuri heard, he ignored it.

“On this day, the 16th of March, on the field of honor, Eadric Field-Born of unknown lineage meets Lord Lance, the Firstborn of the House of the Black Swan, son of…” Yuri continued for a few minutes, listing Lance’s parentage on both sides for four generations. He covered the offense, an unforgivable slur cast against the Black Swan matriarch–the firstborn’s mother, the estimable Lady Vanessa of the Orchid Blossom—asked the gods to bless the righteous victor, then the terms of the duel were stated. To the death, and only spoken-spells. No magical items of any sort were allowed. Should the need arise, they were permitted to fight hand-to-hand.

Yuri lowered the scroll, and Lance said, “Are these terms acceptable?”

“No magic items?” asked Eadric; he knew Lance owned at least two: a standard enchanted mirror for grooming, and a real Snap-Stick—not a toy, a wizard’s weapon. Lance did not have it with him now.

“It would hardly be fair.” Lance snorted. “Given your…status.” He smiled at Eadric. “I would hate to put you at such a disadvantage.”

“Thanks.” Edric spoke through gritted teeth.

“Of course! I might have cause to slay you, Eadric, but I’m a man of honor. In fact, I’ll provide you a delicious offer right now: Proclaim yourself a coward and a liar, and we can conclude this whole business right here. Then you may return to your…hut.”

A heartbeat passed.

“Well…”

“Yes?”

“Does it have to be to the death? I know tradition well enough to know that it often is just to first blood or yielding.”

Lance spread his arms in a generous manner. “Of course! I would be happy to amend the terms. I’m delighted you know something of this. Consider it done. Yuri, amend the scroll.” Yuri produced some charcoal from his pouch, placed the parchment against Jame’s back after some fussing about, and made the corrections. Lance and Eadric signed the changes.

“I didn’t realize fighting to the death was so bureaucratic,” grumbled James.

“I didn’t realize you knew the word ‘bureaucratic,’” said Yuri, rolling up the scroll and setting it aside. “But yes. It does take up a fair amount of parchment and preparation. ‘Do it right, or don’t do it at all,’ and all that.”

“That’s what your mother said.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“To be clear,” said Eadric, jumping in, “if you, or I, surrender after first blood, the duel is over?”

“It must be a vocal surrender, but yes,” said Lance.

“Can I surrender on his behalf?” asked James.

“Yes, of course.”

Eadric looked at James, who didn’t look back.

“Very well, shall we begin?” Lance stretched his broad, muscled torso, audibly cracking his back. “Twenty paces should do it.” He giggled.

Eadric and James widened their eyes, sharing a glance.

“I’m so excited, Eadric.” Lance smiled again, wide and toothy. Then he practically skipped away with Yuri.

This behavior was unusual for Lance. Eadric had a lot of experience playing beat-ball with the older student, and he had never seen him like this. At practices and games, Lance was everything a noble-born, exceptional athlete should be. His play was aggressive, but constantly correct, his celebrations large but never gaudy, and his outbursts at fouls were always conservative and short. He was the picture of expectation; decorous, golden haired, instinctively pompous but never vulgar, acting his rank at every moment. But now, he was…giddy? Like a schoolgirl, Edric thought. It unnerved him.

The two parties took their places, and Eadric took a moment to examine his opponent. Strange behavior aside, Lance was an imposing physical form. He wore the clothing he normally wore to beat-ball practice: breeches and shirt of the finest linen, with a black swan embroidered in silver and stained with a deep blue. Eadric knew the nobleman was unmatched on the pitch. He was the fastest, strongest, best player at the Three Towers. Lance had also been trained in combat arts before coming to the Three Towers, as he was destined for knighthood. Eadric could not win a close-quarters fight. The vocal spells rule was the only advantage Eadric had. Lance might be an older student, but Eadric was talented with magic. He had mastered basic movement, binding, and illusion spells faster than anyone in his group. He was studying change magic now and making great strides. Perhaps he really could win this duel, especially if he could just make Lance bleed. He started to feel excited. All his attention locked on Lance, as Yuri stepped forward with a large, white stone in his hand.

“This is it, Eadric! I’ve wanted this for months now! Let me hear you!” Lance sizzled with anticipation.

Eadric loosened his knees, and slowed his breathing. This lunatic loves this, he thought. No wonder he’s dueled so many others. But Eadric had no time to wonder further.

Yuri shouted across the clearing, “When this stone hits the ground, you may begin.”

He tossed the stone high into the air.

Eadric didn’t watch the stone, nor did Lance. Their eyes softened in focus, but trained on the other. They listened for the thump. Eadric inhaled, to be ready to speak.

It’s difficult to know the outcome of a magic duel that lacks paraphernalia. Basic spells become much stronger and can be used more creatively with staffs, wands, and other such items. But spells cast with only one’s voice were usually the most basic kind of spell. To make such a spell powerful, one must know specific names in the ancient language. Only with true understanding, practice, good fortune, and secret revelation would a simple spell perform a great feat, like commanding the trees to move or the earthquake to subside. Thus, wizards covet these names, the true names of things and creatures. In a duel, mages never know what such secret power the other might know. To further complicate things, true names were much easier to learn if they were experienced through another’s casting. If your spell went awry, your opponent may return it against you. Eadric was sure Lance probably knew powerful names. But Eadric had studied with Brother Kevin, and the magic he knew, he knew well.

The stone thumped.

Lance called on nature, casting a binding spell. The short grass grew long around Eadric’s feet, and the blades lashed and sealed his boots to the ground. At the same time, Eadric had cast a summoning spell, only two words, clear and ringing. Before he spoke, he had been worried, and prayed he knew what he was doing. But when the words left him, he knew the magic worked, for the words rang true and echoed through the woods.

He had summoned the badger.

Lance then cast a movement spell, which ordinarily only affected objects already in motion. But Lance knew the name of the stone that Yuri had thrown. From its resting place in the grass, the white mineral became a missile. It flew straight into Eadric’s face. Eadric saw stars, tasted warmth, and then felt his back slam into the ground. He tried to regain his feet, but the grass would not let him go.

He didn’t have time to complain, as Lance continued to command the stone. It zipped along the ground, but was deflected by a hillock. As the stone ricocheted into the sky, Eadric ripped and clawed at the grass around his feet, tearing away fistfuls and pulling up pieces of turf. He could hear Lance recovering the deflected stone with another spell. He tore off the last strands and jumped to his feet.

Lance had reclaimed the stone and floated it in the air a few paces away, just level with Eadric’s head. It hung there for a moment, then launched toward Eadric again. Eadric cast his own spell of movement, slightly adjusting the path of the rock. As it flew past him, he spit into the air, spattering the rock with his saliva and blood. The stone finished its flying arc, rolled along the ground, and refused to move again, despite Lance’s increasingly frantic commands.

“I thought you were a man of honor!” shouted James. “You lying, cheating, bastard!”

“Very clever, Eadric. Very clever.” Lance’s face was flushed and he bit his words. “How did you do that?”

Eadric was walking back and forth, not getting any closer to Lance, but not allowing his feet to stay still in the grass for long. He was biding his time, and considering his next spell. “If you came to class with Brother Kevin, you would know.” Blood flowed freely from inside and outside his cheek where the stone had struck him. His teeth hurt. His words were mushy.

“Fine. Keep your little secret. I have one of my own!” Lance jabbed his hand forward and barked a laugh as he cast a single-word spell: “Shiver!”

Eadric’s eyes widened in terror, even as his body began to convulse and spasm. The change spell he had meant to cast flew from his mind as his neck convulsed. He dropped to his knees then flung his arms forward so that he was on all fours, trying to balance and still himself. He could hear Lance and Yuri laughing uproariously. James was shouting something at him, but Eadric shook so badly he could only hear his own jaws slamming together. Blood and tissue were mashed between his teeth and he spouted red mist. He couldn’t form words. Every time he opened his mouth the spasms mulched his tongue. He was finished. Grass began to bind his hands and feet; he could picture Lance stoving in his skull with the white stone while he shivered like a rabbit. He willed himself to stand, but the grass, under the command of the binding spell, held him fast. He could barely turn his head up, could barely focus his eyes. Yet he saw Lance approaching, stone in hand. Then the words of James broke through: “The badger!”

Eadric saw the badger, clearly cranky, sulking on the eastern edge of the clearing. The little brute wasn’t coming any closer though, and Lance would reach Eadric in a few seconds. He could yield, maybe, if he got the words out. Why hadn’t James yielded? No time. Lance was getting closer. He tried to cast a full spell again, but clipped a piece of his tongue. Lance stepped to, and raised the stone high, his eyes gleaming as he exulted in triumph.

Eadric mustered all his willpower, and shouted a new whisper based on what the badger had told him. He whispered to the badger that Lance wanted to steal the badger’s den.

“Eadric, cast as a proper wiz…” was as far as Lance got when the black and white ball of fury hit him in the legs. The badger scrambled up Lance’s body, ripping and tearing, while Lance let out distinctly feminine shrieks of terror, and flailed uselessly against the beast, who was now chomping on his face and neck.

Eadric was released from the binding spells the moment the badger hit Lance. The grass subsided, and Eadric’s body stilled. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and stood up, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from him. James ran next to him. The two of them and Yuri, who had come closer, but not too close, watched as Lance continued to lose against the badger. He had ceased his shrieking, but his eyes were lolling in his head, as they tussled back and forth on the ground. Finally, Lance got the badger on the ground with both hands, his full weight going into the beast. The badger was mostly still now, except its jaws were making ground meat of Lance’s forearms and hands. Still, Lance wouldn’t let it go. He had tears in his eyes, his clothes were shredded and bloody, and his perfect face was quite disfigured.

“Call this thing off, Eadric, you hear me? Call it off!” Lance cried.

“Yield first.”

“Call it off! Call it off! CALL IT OFF!”

“Yield.”

“GODS DAMN YOU, EADRIC!”

“Just yield, you proud idiot!” shouted James.

The badger suddenly stretched and twisted wildly, nearly snapping off Lance’s nose. The large young man rolled in terror and hurled the badger away from himself. “I YIELD, I YIELD, CALL IT OFF!”

Eadric instantly dismissed his summon. The badger froze mid-run, its jaws twisted in a bloody snarl. But Eadric then whispered soothing words to the creature, until it calmed to a growl, then silence. The badger turned and ambled away, walking right past the prone Lance, who didn’t move. The badger stopped, looked at Lance, licked its bloody maw, then strolled eastwards into the woods.

When the little brute had vanished into the undergrowth, a few heartbeats passed before anyone said anything. Eadric walked over to Lance, and extended his hand. “Well fought.”

Lance accepted the help, and stood up slowly, clearly in a great deal of pain. His left-cheek, ear, and neck were rent and chewed. His breath was short and spasmodic, and he quickly moved away from Eadric. He curled in to Yuri, who produced a clean handkerchief, and Lance began wiping the blood from his face. Small whimpers and grimaces escaped him at each touch. Eadric and James, unsure of what to do and having no way to help, stood awkwardly.

Lance broke the silence, “Yes. It was well fought.” He turned back to James and Eadric, his mangled face cleaner. “You surprised me with your resistance to the shiver spell. No one has ever resisted that before. Although, I knew you had powerful magic.”

Eadric accepted the compliment. He and James offered their own compliments to Lance, who waved it away, but smiled when they spoke. A cool breeze brushed the area, and as Lance continued to clean himself up, Eadric felt an odd sense of camaraderie. Wholly unexpected, of course, but not unwelcome. Even Yuri seemed content, as he didn’t speak, but tended to his lord.

“You know, Lance, I am sorry for what I said. About your mother, the Lady Vanessa,” said Eadric. “When uh…when I called you a ‘son of a whore,’ I really was just trying to insult you.”

“I think no more of it, Eadric.” Lance handed the bloody handkerchief back to Yuri.

“Good.”

Eadric and James waited for a moment, then shifted. Lance didn’t move, nor did Yuri. They both stood there, looking at James and Eadric, and James and Eadric looked back.

“Alright. Well, duel over, right?” said James. Lance and Yuri nodded slightly, and then Lance flicked his eyes up and down Eadric, then up and down James. Yuri did the same.

“Fine. See you later.” James turned to go. “Come on, Eadric.”

James pushed Eadric to go, but kept an eye on Lance and Yuri. The wind picked up again, the trees rustled loudly together, and an overcast hit the clearing. James followed a pace behind Eadric, but said in parting, “We’ll keep this between ourselves, yeah?”

Lance and Yuri did not answer.

“This is weird,” Eadric whispered to James, who nodded quickly, and glanced over his shoulder.

“Yeah. I think they’re in shock or something. Just keep walking.”

Eadric and James headed towards the path, but Eadric was perplexed. Was he better than the other duelists? Luckier? Smarter? Why were Lance and Yuri standing there when Lance clearly needed to tend to his wounds? Would they report Eadric and James for revenge? Was it really just over?

Eadric was still wondering when he heard Lance speak a new single-word spell: “Silence!”

Single-word spells are dangerous. They are the most powerful spells to cast, but also the most unpredictable. When Lance cast “Shiver,” there was the possibility that everyone in the glade who heard him would have felt a slight tremor, perhaps a little teeth-chatter, and then nothing. There was also the possibility that he could have split the trees, stones, and earth asunder, killing them all. Only the greatest of wizards could cast them well consistently, and Eadric had never seen or heard one cast before today.

The silence Lance had cast could have cursed one of them to muteness, or made a passing grasshopper incapable of chirping. But, whether by intention or not, the spell wrapped the whole glade in its embrace. Eadric whirled around when he heard the word, and he felt the wind in his face and the soil beneath his feet, but it made no sound.

He could feel the blood pumping in his head and ears as Yuri produced a small crossbow, and raised it, but his clothes made no rustle. He launched a bolt at Eadric’s chest, yet the string made no noise. They were only about ten paces away, so the bolt punched through Eadric’s right shoulder and burst out of his shoulder blade.

Missed lungs and heart, Eadric thought idly, as he stumbled backward and fell. He knew he was shouting, crying out in pain, but he could only feel the vibrations in his skull, and no sound bounced off his eardrum. He felt pressures and objects but there was no sounds. It was like falling in water, except fast and painful.

Eadric tried to cast a spell, once, twice, three, four times. He cast a binding, tried to summon, cast a movement, and even tried to cast the change spell he had been saving, but none of them worked. Nothing heard him.

James had turned slower, seen Eadric go down, and now he was rushing forward, trying to cast his own spells, but to no avail. James thought Eadric was dead, and he threw himself at Lance, fists flailing. Eadric tried to call out to him, tried to stop him. Lance pulled an ugly, heavy-bladed knife from a hiding place and whipped it down through James’s throat and collarbone. James fell to the ground. Eadric screamed, but no one knew.

Then Yuri produced his own knife, and he and Lance knelt down over James. Their blades flashed a few times, then Eadric couldn’t see through his tears. He blinked, and staggered to his feet. Yuri and Lance’s attention was fully on the slain figure before them. They stripped his torso bare, and with practiced skill opened his chest and removed his still beating heart. Holding it up, they both bit into it.

Horror and realization washed over Eadric: blood magic. They practiced blood magic.

He wretched. His tears and blood and bile all dropped with no note, and he took one last look at the body of his friend. Then he turned to run. He had to get away. He had to tell people. The Three Towers must be warned.

The whole event had taken less than a minute, and with Eadric’s first stumbling step, he heard the wind in the trees, and the wet chewing of the men behind him. Eadric didn’t have time to think about the silence spell. He doubted that Lance could cast something after such a powerful action. He felt spent after the duel, and he had expended far less effort. He didn’t stop, but hobbled as fast as he could toward the western edge of the clearing, towards the rock wall. He heard Yuri speak, and Lance laughed. Then Lance called him, and Eadric hobbled faster.

He knew that he couldn’t outrun them, not in this state. His only hope was to get over the rock wall, tumble down the hill, and hopefully reach the stream. He had survived the stream yesterday; maybe he could avoid drowning long enough to lose his pursuers. Then he could return to the huts, and tell the others.

He had to get back.

He had to warn Lucas.

“Eadric! Where are you going, Eadric?” Lance was walking after him. Eadric willed himself to run now. He surged the last five paces, and he was at the rock wall.

Eadric reached out with his left arm, but his right arm refused the command with stabbing pain. Eadric cried out, grabbed the stone ledge with his left hand, and hoisted himself up to the top, so that his head and torso extended into space. He just had to flop over, slide down the hill without any regard for safety, and then he could make it to the stream! He risked a look back. Lance was still about ten paces away. Now was his chance.

He glanced down into the hidden area behind the rock wall to check his fall, and he froze.

For a moment, he just hung half over the ledge, like a see-saw. He gazed down, as all his anger and fear welled up inside, filled his chest, and turned to sadness. Suddenly, Eadric wept and wailed in one sharp cry. Then, with his heart full of love and fury, he looked back at the oncoming enemy, slid back down the rock, shoved his fear into his boots, and faced Lance.

“Well, what’s this?” Lance flicked his knife in the air, and caught it again. “You think you got a chance, dirt-eater?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Lance.” Eadric’s legs and body trembled, but his voice was clear. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

“Oh, you dear, dear fool.” Lance raised his knife. “Of course I will.”

Eadric dodged the first strike, and managed to hit and break Lance’s nose. But Lance was trained in combat, and after he regained his composure, Eadric never had a second chance. He tried to run for the south pathway; Lance easily overtook him. The slice of the heavy knife opened Eadric from shoulder to hip, and he plunged headlong into the ground. Lance leapt atop him and stabbed Eadric with reckless abandon, so much so that Yuri had to stop him. Then Yuri and Lance resumed their dark work, moving quickly, frantically. They stripped James and Eadric of clothing and possessions.

Then they disposed of the bodies in a fiendish manner.

***

Several hours passed, after Lance and Yuri had left the glade, before a slight rustle behind the rock wall was heard. It came from the same place that Eadric had tried to climb over some time before. The overcast was gone, and a mid-afternoon sun had bathed the green for a while. One could have easily mistaken the rustle as a gust of wind through dead maple leaves. But there was no wind when this rustle was heard. Then two small hands gripped the top of the rock, and red, tear-streamed eyes peaked over.

Lucas, hiccupping with silent sobs, pulled himself over the rock and slid down into the glade. He scraped his knees, but did not notice. He looked around, fearfully, feeling naked in the direct sunlight and open air. He looked at the place where his brother had been killed, then quickly looked away. He didn’t go near the stained patch. The ants and sunlight had already stolen most of the scarlet color. Now it looked dull, brown, and dark. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, and looked at a spot near the northern path. He ran to it.

Behind a low, wide stone, nestled between an old log and covered by long grass, was the duel scroll. Lucas grabbed it, and ran as fast as he could down the south path.

The End