The Spell Crafter

Chapter Eleven - The Governor and the Magister

Kanick had barely slept as thoughts of his oldest friend being a necromancer haunted his mind. He believed the boy was speaking truthfully but must have misinterpreted what he had seen. It was on this settlement that his mind made peace with itself and permitted him to fall into an uneasy sleep.

Kanick said as much to Bera on their way to visit the Enclave, weaving between crowds and the traffic of the city, down the main street. The shadow of the keep, and seat of the governor, loomed large over their backs. Kanick had wanted to visit there first, but with the accusations being levelled at Regius...

"Ridiculous!" Kanick blustered. "The boy must not have understood." He looked back and saw Bera struggling to keep up.

"What other explanation could there be?" Bera asked.

Kanick was in no mood for a rational discussion and threw his hands up. "Healers kill animals all the time!"

"Do they decapitate them?" Bera challenged him.

"Sometimes," Kanick shot back. Bera's expression was incredulous. "Spells to staunch bleeding, or clean wounds." Kanick rounded on him. "Have you read Manellan's Almanac yet?"

Bera ignored the question. "And these healers, they bring their animals back to life, do they?"

Anger flashed inside Kanick's skull. "There is an explanation for this!" He declared angrily, then added, "and one that doesn't involve necromancy!"

Bera raised his hands in surrender and spent the rest of their journey to the Enclave loitering a few paces behind, in silence.

Kanick seethed as they passed through Woodbend's eastern gate and down the paved road to the Mage's enclave. He ordered the battlemages on guard to open the wooden door in the dry limestone wall, which was mottled with lichen. The guards looked from each other uncertainly.

"I am Master Kanick!" He declared angrily. "I'm here to see the Magister."

The guards admitted them into the grounds of the enclave; a smattering of stone buildings collected around the base of the tower. Kanick opened the door and stormed up the stairs but as he climbed the tower's carpeted stairs, he was finding his anger difficult to sustain.

While he settled, he found himself realising that Bera had raised some infuriating, but important questions that would need answering. He still couldn't believe his old friend had turned to necromancy; they had both seen too much of its horrors in the war. And yet, the facts as stated warranted an explanation.

Bera caught up to him on the landing, by the Magister's offices at the very top of the tower.

"Bera," Kanick said. "I'm sorry for my outburst, it's difficult for me to hear these things about my friend."

"I'm sorry too, Master-"

"No," Kanick cut him off. "Even the most challenged student of logic knows that you needn't support an idea in order to assay its merits, and the points you raise will be important to our investigation."

"Thank you, Master," Bera replied, cheered slightly.

Magister Edian had no apprentice, but instead had a small school of acolytes to act as his secretaries. One of them, a pale thin youth with short brown hair, showed them into the Magister's solar, which was empty. So far on their journey, Kanick had found himself in the offices of the Arch-Mage, a Court Mage and a High-Mage. The Magister's was much smaller with less in it – simply a desk and chairs. Despite being at the top of the tower, the only source of light was from braziers burning in the corners of the room. The two mages were sweating in the stuffy heat.