Chapter 22 — A New Home
Bastach hurriedly followed Lord Vorshan into the hallway. While they walked at a brisk pace, the news of the evening was still swirling around in his head as he tried to come to terms with what he had heard.
War was coming. Revant’s desperate acts made clear that they had no confidence in stopping the coming flood of monsters from the north. That would mean the hordes would eventually reach Crysellia.
The generally mountainous terrain of the highlands that bordered the north of Crysellia should funnel the main armies into defensible locations, but undoubtedly smaller raiding parties would slip through the wilds and cause trouble in the interior of the country. Expensive long-term projects would need to be started to improve the defenses of their territory.
“Luck has smiled upon House Vorshan, and things are going to get busy again. Just when I was planning to retire into the quiet life and let my son take over the day-to-day affairs, too,” Lord Vorshan said with a wry laugh once they were far enough away to not be overheard. “So, what’d you think of the girl?”
“I find it hard to believe that she’s common born from a family with no history of magical talent,” Bastach admitted.
“Exactly right. There’s likely a bastard or an adventurer not far in her family tree,” Lord Vorshan agreed. “And when you think that if one random Revant village girl has the potential to rival the children of our most prominent mage Houses, how many of the thousands discarded might have had similar potential or more? It’s such a colossal and short-sighted waste. Surely, a coordinated effort to raise more mages and warriors from the peasant class would have provided better results and given them more of a fighting chance than paying a blood-price to delay the inevitable.”
Bastach nodded. “It is certainly as you say, milord. Should we step up our recruiting and training?”
“Hmm. Yes, I think so. We might not be able to send them to any of the academies, but if we test all residents for potential and can hire a skilled mage to teach classes, then we may be able to add a significant number of people who can at least use magic weapons and power magic artillery. We should also research the feasibility of old-style magics. If a promising self-taught girl can deploy combat-effective magic using basic skills, then formally trained apprentices should be able to do it as well,” Lord Vorshan proposed.
“The law against ritual magic—won’t that be a problem?” Bastach asked.
“Maybe not. I noticed it when Ria was casting her ward, and confirmed it again when I had her draw it on the paper.” Lord Vorshan paused dramatically, his eyes twinkling. “Without the shamanic invocations, Ward Magic really is just a more primitive way to create the modern casting constructs that shape the effects of modern structured spells.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand the distinction, milord. Are you saying that all magic is ritual magic?” Bastach asked, confused.
“All structured magic, yes. But that’s not the point. Ward Magic by itself isn’t illegal unless it makes use of incantations in a way banned by the various major churches, or makes use of Summoning Magic, Spirit Magic, or other banned magic. You can think of it more as a single-use enchantment than a cast magic,” Lord Vorshan explained.
“Okay. But even if that doesn’t run us afoul of the Enchanters Guild, once the High Council gets wind of us teaching a kind of ritual magic, they will surely send an inquisitor,” Bastach worried.
Lord Vorshan waved away his concerns. “Yes, of course. That’s why we will need to notify the High Council in advance before we expand the idea beyond just private feasibility testing.”
“Ah, milord!” one of the kitchen maids exclaimed as the two of them entered the servant area of the kitchen. “You needn’t have come all the way here! Miela would have gladly brought you something!”
“No need, no need, Gwen.” Lord Vorshan chuckled. “I just felt like getting a bit of exercise after being cooped up at my desk all day. Is there any pie or cheesecake left? A snack and tea while the captain and I finish discussing a few things would really hit the spot.”
“Of course! I’ll fetch it right now.” Gwen bowed enthusiastically and started rushing about.
Lord Vorshan led Bastach over to the empty servants’ table and took a seat. “About the warrior side of things, we’ll need to do more recruiting to expand the number of guardsmen and scouts. We’ll also want to start paying the Adventurers Guild for additional missions to scout and hunt materials in the wilds. I’m thinking it’s time to build some forward outposts and expand our territory.”
“Ah, I see. Revant will be too busy to dispute the uncontrolled territory, and giving the adventurers more work will attract more of them and increase the number of capable people that we can recruit. And, I’m guessing that we’ll use grain shipments to Revant to offset the costs?” Bastach hypothesized.
Lord Vorshan nodded. “Yes. That’s the general plan. We’ll need to discuss the specifics with the elders as details are confirmed. Unless you have any concerns?”
“No, milord. I think this is a good opportunity to use the situation to get funding and supplies from the High Council for the expansion and fortifications,” Bastach suggested.
“Exactly right, again. Looks like another late night. I should draft that emergency letter to the High Council tonight before any of the other border lords beat me to the punch,” Lord Vorshan said, then turned toward Gwen who was delivering the food and tea. “Gwen, can you send one of the girls to attend the fire in my office? And, have my son meet me there as soon as he can.”
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“Yes, milord!”
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Worn down by a tiring day of travel and the tension of meeting with nobility, Ria was completely drained and looking forward to sleeping in a warm bed again after such a long time. The idea of meeting Jarrel’s parents made her a little nervous since she was worried about making a bad impression but also a little excited about having a new home and a chance to make new friends.
Being a foreign ‘witch girl’ was probably going to be a lot different from being a cobbler or seamstress’ daughter. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be hated.
She also needed to come up with some ways to earn money. The coins from her father’s savings might not be useable here, and she didn’t want to have to be reliant on Jarrel or his parents for her expenses. Particularly, if she wanted to make herself a fancy dress or buy some expensive magical tool.
When it came to things she could actually do, probably helping out at an apothecary would pay the best. Though if she could sell expensive dresses like her mom did… that might not be bad either. And from what Jarrel had said about the familiar-bonding ritual being expensive, if she could get licensed, then that would probably earn her unimaginable sums of coin.
Ria looked around. The road Jarrel was leading Ranger and her along had been sloping downward for a while now, and the sound of water lapping against stone brought her out of her wandering thoughts.
They seemed to have arrived at a less residential area with shops, or rather, workshops.
The characteristic stench of tanning vats reached Ria’s nose, and when she increased the brightness of her staff, the nearby shop’s sign indicated that it was a leatherworker’s workshop as expected. Cobbling wasn’t listed, which made her wonder if she could find work there making shoes.
As Ria hurried to catch back up, she realized that Jarrel had stopped in front of a store with friendly curtained glass windows and a stale smell of blood. The sign read: ‘Orlan and Fana’s Butchershop’.
“This is where we’ll be staying,” Jarrel said, taking a deep breath. “Ready?”
Ria nodded. “Yeah.”
Jarrel walked up and knocked on the shop’s pretty glass-paned door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
After repeating the knocking a second time, a stirring and muttering could be heard from an upstairs window. The scraping sound of a lantern being lit was followed by a warm glow coming from the windows on the second floor.
The muttering and the light migrated to the first floor, and the shop door opened to reveal a pot-bellied old man with chiseled arms.
The man held up the lamp and growled, “What da yah want?”
“You always greet travelers like that, dad?” Jarrel quipped, and the old man’s eyes went wide.
“T-that you, Jarrel?!”
“Yep. Can we come in?”
“Ah, right. What’s with the dog and the girl?” Jarrel’s dad asked, eyeing Ria and Ranger.
“They’re with me. Ria’s in my care, and Ranger is her familiar. He’ll behave himself,” Jarrel explained.
“Not real keen on having a dog in the shop, but whatever. Follow me upstairs.” Jarrel’s dad led the way inside and asked, “You eat yet?”
“Some salt-jerky soup about an hour ago, but we won’t turn down a real meal if there’s something already made,” Jarrel answered.
“There’s some stew. You and the girl can help yourselves, if you like.”
“Woof?”
“The dog too, I guess.”
“Woof!”
“Thanks, I’ll hunt you some fresh meat tomorrow,” Jarrel offered.
“Thanks,” Ria echoed.
“Sure.”
When they arrived at the second floor, a stern-faced woman in a nightgown called out, “That you, Jarrel?”
“Yeah, mom. I’ve come back home,” Jarrel told his mom and gave her a hug.
Stepping back, Jarrel’s mom held him at arm’s length and looked him over. “We got the letter about Rella’s passing. How’s our grandson? And who’s this mage girl you’re traveling with?”
“I’m sorry mom, but Danny got conscripted into forced labor with the rest of Shadewood village. Ria’s the daughter of a friend. She and I managed to evade the soldiers and escape through the highland wilds,” Jarrel summarized.
“Gods! The wilds?! That must’ve been a terribly difficult journey! Here, let me help you out of those heavy packs and cloaks,” Jarrel’s mom insisted, moving to work the ties and buckles. "That's awful about Danny. I hope he will be okay."
“I hope so, too. He's all I have left of Rella. I got mine, mom. It’s too heavy for you. Why don’t you help Ria instead,” Jarrel suggested as he lowered his pack to the floor with a thunk and draped his huge bear-fur cloak on top.
Jarrel's dad grunted. "If Danny is anything like Jarrel was at his age, he'll make it through fine. I'm guessing you taught him how to hunt and take care of himself?"
"I did," Jarrel confirmed. "Since he was little."
The large man nodded as if convinced.
Ria thanked the woman as she took her pack and cloak. She had to let the light magic dissipate when Jarrel’s mom insisted on taking her staff and coat too.
“Ack, child. What are you wearing?” Jarrel’s mom chastised upon seeing her top that was little more than a wolf-fur chest wrap.
“More like what she isn’t wearing, heh,” Jarrel’s dad quipped.
“Shush, Orlan. Child, you’re not… selling yourself, are you?” the scandalized woman asked.
“I made this top so I wouldn’t overheat when wearing my travel cloak in the summer,” Ria defended herself.
“Well, maybe that’s fine in Revant, but in Crysellia… or at least in Vorshan’s Hills, you need to wear something more decent,” the woman chided.
“Yes, ma’am. I was planning to go out and buy new clothes tomorrow anyway,” Ria conceded. It wasn’t like arguing would change any minds.
“Speaking of which, mom, do you or dad know of a reasonable coin exchanger in town?” Jarrel asked. “All our money is in Revanti coins.”
“Normally, you’d go to the lord’s manor for something like that,” Jarrel’s mom suggested.
Jarrel’s dad offered something else, “Bessel, the moneylender, should be able to handle that if you’re in a hurry.”
“So, old man Bessel’s still around, huh?” Jarrel said with a laugh.
“He’s hanging in there. The rich bastard,” old man Orlan growled good-naturedly.
When it came to the servings of stew Orlan had offered, Jarrel’s mom insisted on reheating the stew for them and started preparing the fire, but Ria intervened and assured her that her firestone would be enough. In the process, she confirmed that Jarrel’s mom’s name was Fana—just like on the store sign.
“Mom, are you still paying a mage to come by and refill your cooling stones? I bet Ria could use her magic to enchant your cold room where you store the meat, or a least recharge the stones as needed. What do you think, Ria?” Jarrel suggested.
Ria nodded while swallowing a mouthful of stew. “Recharging stones is no problem. Doing the enchantment is possible, but to make it permanent, I’ll need to make the inscription with an enchantable material such as gold or silver and power it with links to local ley-lines and places of power. So, I’ll need to do some research and experimenting.”
“That sounds really difficult, Ria. Aren’t you still just an apprentice?” Grandma Fana asked.
“I’m self-taught, but it’s true that I’m still learning…” Ria started to say, but her answer was cut off by a huge yawn.
“Oh my. You must be exhausted. Why don’t I show you to your room, and we can talk more in the morning, okay?” Grandma Fana insisted.
Ria just nodded. She was sure trying to talk would just make her yawn again.
Splitting her stuff between them, she and Grandma Fana carried everything up to a dusty room on the third floor. Opening the window, Ria used air magic to freshen up the room and blow the dust out.
“Wow, that’s handy,” Grandma Fana commented, impressed. “This was my daughter Carli’s room—Jarrel’s younger sister. She moved out after getting married, and it hasn’t been used much since. Jarrel’s room is across the hall.”
“Thanks for letting me use it,” Ria said while looking around at the furnished attic room not unlike her old room in Shadewood.