19th of Taka, 1000, late evening

Pookkalam, Fort Kitapüru,

Mandy finally managed to find a quite moment. Since the attempt to change the pookkalam it had been pandemonium. The enemy obviously realised that something had change and used the opportunity to try another attack. Everyone assumed they the enemy would stick to the routine attacking in the same pattern they always did. One fireball, one sapper tunnel and one effort at eves dropping.

There weren’t disappointed. They came in almost as expected. Moved slightly up to try and take advantage of the turmoil she and her fellow castors had experienced with the pookkalam. Nothing fancy. Rather everything seemed to be settling into a pattern.

If she thought about it a little the pattern seemed suspicious. Given that the attacks were dropping every twelve hours and the standard recuperation for a mage floated around twenty three hours there was a discrepancy.

Not much but, granted. But most mages had a nguvu pool value of between one and one point two. If your pool filled recoup dropped to zero. At most a castor could buffer for six hours before they hit a zero recoup number holding their capacity. If the recoup ran in the normal spread that meant that would mean an hour of buffer accumulated everyday. Everyone was assuming that would mean three to four days before the enemy started wasting recoup.

She looked at her notes. Cast math was simple in her opinion. The professor was a genius. In her opinion the best thing the pookkalam offered was a way to store excess nguvu particularly from minor castors who had no ability to use it directly. But returning to the issue at hand. The enemy mages had never flushed their buffer.

Flushing the buffer was the term used by professional combat mages to discuss the difference between the second cast time and all subsequent casts. A mage’s recoup value was the amount of nguvu units, nu for short, recovered in twenty-four hours. As a minor, Mandy’s SKAT had come with puberty. It was locked giving limited information until she reached maturity. Her father liked to tease her that it would never happen. She snorted at the thought. Anyway she wouldn’t have access to her TMS breakdown until after that time.

Fortunately she had been able to get Fitzhugh’s number in general discussion. She had tried to ask Max and Silvia but there was no way a real mage was talking those numbers. Anyway Fitzhugh had a recoup of 1.203 meaning that he generated a nu every nineteen hours and fifty-seven minutes. Here’s the thing. He had a really poor pool value of 1.068. That 6.8% of a nu meant that, if Fitzhugh was a mage, he would be able to drop his second cast after eighteen and a half hours using that buffer amount.

Fitzhugh as a mage. She sniggered to herself. Then she reflected. That recoup would have put him at the very top of the mage power structure. A twenty hour cycle rate would have been the best that Miylan had. A buffer so small would have generated sniggers but that cycle rate would have meant that others would be set to guard him not the other way around.

Returning to the issue at hand. No matter how you looked at it, the enemy should have shorted the cast sale by significantly more than they did today. They brought their casts forward by less than an hour. Casting twenty-three and a quarter hours after the cast time the day before. An reasonable mage should be dropping their second cast at around twenty-two hours to flush the buffer.

“They’re doing something with their extra nu.” She muttered to herself. Nobody heard her. She was minor, there to be seen and not heard. Well, except by the professor who she liked. He liked her as well. Knowing him it was because her aggregated mental score ran to three points higher than his own. She wouldn’t have known that with a locked SKAT but he had told her.

She pulled out some paper. She started doing some calculations. Mumbling to herself she reflected on the result. “Depending on when the night castors cycle we can assume that they buffered about about seventy percent of nu on the first day and they are going to add another twenty-eight to thirty percent every following day.”

“Huh?” Someone asked behind her.

She didn’t turn around, lost in her own thoughts as she was, but rather mumbled on. “Yeah and that doesn’t factor there actually being seven mages on the other side of this siege. That number is for a six mage cast cycle. If there is a a seventh mage, they would have buffered more.”

“How much?” The question was curt.

“Oh, depending on his buffer values I would guess that they have two and a bit nu buffered.” She sighed. “Hard to say without better information.”

“Nu?” The young male voice asked.

“Nguvu units if you will. Why is the magic stuff called nguvu anyway? I mean, what’s it mean. Nguvu, as a word must mean something. Never understood that.” She was rambling. She new she was rambling. She was tried. She had been up for almost as long as the rest fo the coven. “Sorry I’m rambling on. Five hours sleep in the last fifty is getting to me. Dad says it’s normal for sieges. Nobody gets good rest. Anyhow my math is probably off, I’m sure that Silvia would have thought through all this stuff.”

Her chat trickled off allowing the young guard to finally come into view. He sat next to her. He was a handsome sort. Dirty of course, but the red bull dust out here in the desert got into everything. Half a chance and it would be in her face powders. That would be a real disaster. Not quite on the scale of this military siege but definitely a close second. Wow, she realised her mind was all over the place. “Definitely tired.” She said without meaning anything by it.

The young man finally spoke. “Old Kay’dense word.”

She looked at him blankly. “What’s an old Kay’dense word?”

“Nguvu. Well, at least that’s the rumour.” The young man looked where she was, towards the massive pookkalam in the middle of the roof as he continued. “Magic is less than fifty years old. The great empire has been gone for over six hundred years. Nobody speaks old Kay’dense anymore. Yet when everyone looked at their SKAT when the magic came, there is was.”

He sighed. “Mysterious, hidden, unknowable, all of those is old Kay’dense. Rumour and gossip hint a books secreted throughout Indlu written in the language. One of them may help us. But today we just have a word,” suddenly brightening he continued, “ which you have bastardised to, nu.”

She giggled. She hated it when she giggled. It sounded weird and reminded her she was still a minor. She decided to introduce herself. Turning to him she stuck out her hand to be shaken. “Amanda, but everyone calls me Mandy.”

“Nice to finally meet you.” Smirking the young man turned to her grasping her hand they shook as he said. “Mické, but the people who matter in my life call me Mickie.”

She wasn’t sure why he was smirking. What was up with that? In her tired state her resentment sprang to the fore as she muttered. “Like there’s a difference.”

Unperturbed he replied continued. “To my mother, the difference is vast, deep and layered with the guilt that can only come from family expectations.”

“Ahh, thanks. Over sharing much?” Mandy mumbled from behind her hair. “Why are you here again?”

“That!” Mické replied. “Well, I was interested by your thoughts on the nu buffer issue you were thinking off. Could you store the extra nu in an artefact of some description?”

“Sure.” Her mind turned back to the thoughts that had been plaguing her earlier. “V’nasenda sells such things for vast quantities of gold, gems or other expensive things. Nobody knows how they make such things. But my magic mentor, Claudia, says that such things cost about seven kilos of gold a nu stored. Nobody can afford that kind of price.”

She stretched. She was cramping form the awkward stance she had maintained when it was her shift to man the pookkalam. “Besides, nobody in the right mind walks into a battle without that stuff being full. The enemy has known they were coming for days, weeks even. They would have filled anything that held nu long before they marched.

“Maybe they only hold the nu for a short period of time.” Mické asked hopefully.

“No.” She replied. “V’nasenda’s artificers don’t seem to offer such versions. That said I don’t know myself so perhaps you are right. I doubt it though.”

“So what are they doing with all that nu?” Mické asked almost to himself as he turned back to the pookkalam.

“Well, the only thought I have is sitting right there.” She nodded at the pookkalam.

He sharply looked at her. “You think they know how to form a coven too?”

“Perhaps,” she answered morosely. “More likely they have discovered or formulated their own version of a casting circle.”

“That’s not good,” Mické stood anxiously.

She stood to join him, stretching him. “It may be worse than you think. The key is that seventh mage. We haven’t seen him at all. Assuming for a moment he isn’t a castor but is an actual mage. He is using the other six mages as a smoke screen. He is showing us what we expect, limiting our ability to attack and drawing our focus where he wants it.”

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“My dad loves chess.” She smiled. “His favourite trick is to attack in one place whilst building a second attack avenue where you don’t expect. They are consistently attacking from east, sometimes the north east. But it doesn’t matter. Infantry, fireballs, sapper tunnels, everything. It’s all coming from there.”

She cricked her back. “I’m not sure how, or where, but we are being set up. We have sort of fixed the pookkalam. It is much better. I might even get some sleep tonight. But we are being had.”

Mické looked at her sharply. “Is it that bad?”

Mandy frowned at him like he was stupid. “We over charged a fireball with three nu and it wiped out more people than this for contains. If something were to happen to our shield and that seventh magma got a fireball into the fort we’d be done.”

“Done?” He asked.

“You’re not a mage, you don’t understand.” She stated matter factly. “Let me spell it out. That fireball we cast was a misfire. The reason the enemy didn’t realise our strength is because it was on the large size of what a quality fire mage can drop.” He looked at her incredulously.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Three nu should have cooked half their army.” She rubbed her face tiredly. It was a bad habit, it smudged her face. “Well, not quite. We didn’t get our finesse and sensitivity stuff right. It was about the right size for three nu. It was cold however…” she paused and after a moment of thought continued, “…and badly directed. There is no doubt they questioned the cast. They hopefully just assumed our casting circle allows us to fiddle with the parameters of a standard cast.”

Zeroing in on something he understood. “You think they knew about your cast circle? the pookily thing.”

“Yes.” She replied calmly.

Now it was Mické’s turn to rub his face. “How? Their spy ran into difficulties before you cast that thing.”

“No idea,” she replied. “Before the professor didn’t pay attention and blew himself off the mage tower, we realised that someone sabotaged the circle. By the way it’s called a pookkalam. Not whatever you called.”

“Well sorry for not calling your pooky thingy the right name.” He mock teased her be fore getting serious. “So there’s another spy.”

“I didn’t know there was a first one. I just know someone tried to sabotage the coven cast. Obviously that person is not the one you say was caught.” Her mind started to race.

“Not caught, intercepted.” Mické interjected.

Mandy hardly heard as she continued her train of thought. “Probably more than one still remain. Obviously they knew about our cast circle. They may not know the details but they would anticipate that we’ve planned to neutralise their numerical supremacy. Despite intercepting their agent they were still able to formulate a plan to disrupt us. Worse, they are so unconcerned they attacked even though they knew we had a plan to stop them.”

“They aren’t afraid. They must have better information on us that we do on them. They are absolutely planning on turning the tables.” She gasped. “I have to see my father about this. They will be coming here.”

“Who will?” Mické asked. He was usually quick on the uptake but he didn’t see what she was getting at.

“The spies,” she grabbed his arm running for the steps down. “Come on, let’s go. We have to see him.”

Mandy suddenly realised that she was talking to a simple guard. She was definitely tired and shouldn’t be saying so much. Certainly not to someone so removed from the top of the command structure. Still he was a guard and he could guard her until they reached her father. She bolted down the stairs adrenaline pumping.

“Wait. I’m supposed to be on lookout at the top there.” Mické protested.

Mandy didn’t care. “You’ll be fine. Nothing is going to happen for at least four hours. Well, unless that seventh mage starts his party early but that’s unlikely.”

“What? Why? He asked.

She jumped down a couple of stairs. “It’s obvious.” She replied.

Mické managed through his gasping breath to mumble, “not to me,” as he struggled to catch up.

Mandy hadn’t heard to choose not to as she continued down the stairs. “The shield hasn’t broken. Two nu is not enough to the break the shield and end us. It is only enough for the second of those actions. He needs the other mages to bring down the shield. Unless…” she paused turning to the breathless Mické at the bottom of the stairs. “…unless there is a spy who can take down shield.”

She tuned running out into the courtyard towards the barracks. “Come on, we have to talk to my dad.”

For a second Mické contemplated not going with her. “The captain’s not going to be happy about this.” He commented to her departing back. He wasn’t sure what the captain was going to be most upset about. Deserting his post. That his daughter was paying spy vs spy. Or the fact that, somehow his most clandestine operative was being dragged off to talk about spies by a girl who blurted this stuff out to the first available listener. Her spy craft was awful.

Mandy ran through the barracks into the antechamber before her father’s office. She didn’t slow down other than to chide Mické for not keeping up. Any protestations that her father’s aid, Mark might have had, died on his lips. She knew the captains habits. If the door was open then he was available for his daughter. Close and he was in a meeting and she could wait.

The door was open. She practically dragged Mické in as she kicked it closed with her heel. She didn’t wait for her father to react. Not did she greet his as she sharply declared. “Dad, there’s a spy in the fort.”

Devereux, with all his affability and charm, hardly reacted at all. Reflecting that his daughters fiery nature must come from his father. She certainly hadn’t received it from him, or his wife for that matter. “Must skip a generation.” He said gently.

Mandy looked at him nonplussed. “What’s skipped a generation?”

“Decorum,” He remarked rising from his chair and striding towards the door.

“Dad, I’m being serious.” Mandy whined.

“So am I,” he remarked as he opened the door. “Decorum is a vital quality in a lady. Mage too I imagine.” He stuck his head out the door, seeing his aide loitering by the water cooler. “Mark, be a lad and fetch my mage liaison Fitzhugh. Tell him to bring that disk of his. It’s always easy to understand this magic mumbo jumbo when he can use it to explain.”

He looked around. Everyone else had headed off for the evening meal except for one. “Sam, you’ve done enough here. Your watch starts in five hours you better chuff off. Get a meal and some sleep. We need you and the lads to be vigilant so sleep when you can.”

He walked back to his desk leaving the door open. “So guard Mické, why are you not at your post?”

“Dad,” Mandy started to interrupt.

“Young lady, I was serious when I mentioned decorum. Please practice some for a few moments whilst I deal with the guard here.” He gently but firmly chastised his daughter.

“Ahh sir,” Mické started to respond.

Mandy interrupted. “It’s my fault.” Her brain was catching up with her father’s actions. She glanced at the open door. The coin dropped. Decorum indeed. She had let her adrenalin drive her actions rather than remember that decorum was, by definition, about the appropriateness of behaviour in a given situation. Announcing ‘spy’ to the world was the antithesis of that aim.

She calmed herself for a second. “This poor guard, Mické I think you said, happened upon me in a moment of distress and was kind enough to accompany me as I sort you out. In that moment of unguarded distress I may have uttered a thought or two which, in the grand scheme of things, may be best if the guard here was to forget.”

Mické, unused to either of these two use his first name correctly, was quite at sea as to what was going on. On the point of speaking he was interrupted.

“That was a rather prompt response Mark. I thought that Fitzhugh was well away on the top of that mage tower of his.” The captain spoke.

Fitzhugh, ever unflappable, replied before Mark could mouth a syllable. “Yes, it was most fortuitous. I was just happened by the barracks after a quick bite. I noticed that Mark here must have taken a small tumble into the flower bed. Fetched up right next to the window. Lucky sort of fall though, almost bumped his head on the lintel when I asked if he was alright.”

Mark opened and closed his mouth like a landed fish. No sound emerged and the captain looked at him intently.

The captain took charge. “Well, Im glad you hear Fitzhugh. My daughter and the guard here were just going to explain the alignment of the cast stuff on the roof of the mage tower and how it all got fixed by aligning with the spy constellation. I didn’t know there was spy constellation in the sky. Did you?”

He didn’t give Mark time to respond. “Never mind, forget that I asked. You’d better head off, I think we’re done here for the day. Get some rest. You’re watch starts at midnight so make sure you get some sleep. If the enemy pushes tonight you won’t get any before dawn. Oh and close the door on the way out.”

There was a moment as Mark looked expectantly at Mické expecting him to be dismissed too. The moment passed and with reluctance Mark left shutting the door.

Both Mandy and Mické took a breath to talk. They were halted by a raised hand form the captain as Fitzhugh removed his hexagon disk. With a quite word it activated.

Fitzhugh waited for a moment checking the disk. “It should be safe to talk within the room.” He took a breath. “Sir, I must protest, the disk can now derive it’s power from the pookkalam, though we are at it’s maximum range. But this is not something other people should know I have.”

The captain looked sharply at the young man. “Today must be opposites day. I have a guard who thinks that he can teach me about looking after my daughter. A daughter who thinks I need a lesson on spying and a mage who seems to believe I need reminders concerning who I should be discussing military secrets in front off.”

There were three sets of sheepish expressions looking back at him.

The captain rocked back in his chair. It didn’t lead him the air of authority he was trying to project. I was an unconscious habit which he couldn’t seem to break himself off. “Alright, lets start at the beginning. Fitzhugh, how did the pookkalam rework go.”

Fitzhugh looked to either side of himself considering carefully his response. “Mandy can probably tell you about the efficiency, power and switch improvements. After all the professor asked her to assist him and I assume he gave her the ability to monitor those details.”

Mandy opened her mouth to add to the comment. A frown from her father stopped that.

“Otherwise the improvements that were scheduled seemed to have paid off.” Fitzhugh saw the byplay and realised he wasn’t going to be assisted on that front. We anticipate that w can now function at slightly better efficiencies than a seven mage team. It’s not a lot but we have a slight and I do me slight edge now.”

This time Mandy would not be denied. “No we don’t. Their seventh mage is stockpiling nguvu.” She managed to get in despite her father’s initial attempt stopper her speaking.

The captain steepled his fingers. “Explain.”

She did earning a thoughtful expression from Fitzhugh. She also continued talking about the sabotage to the pookkalam, her expectation of surprise and her belief in the vulnerability of the shield.

“What makes the shield so vulnerable?” The captain asked.

Through all this Mické had attempted to remain unobtrusive and hopefully ignored. Fitzhugh wasn’t having any of that. He looked straight at the young man as he pointedly spoke. “The coven, endeavouring to mitigate some of the risk has taken an uncommon approach to shielding. This approach, best left to the coven, is particularly vulnerable to specific avenues of sabotage.”

The captain grunted looking at Mické. “I need a word with you young man. Just pop outside for minute and I’ll get to you.”

When the door closed behind him he turned to Fitzhugh. “You’re going to have to find that spy who messed with the professor’s work.”

Before he could continue Fitzhugh interrupted. “On that front, there is some disturbing news. A quick search of the professor’s robes reveals that some time between starting to fix the pookkalam and l landing on the ground, his journal has gone missing.”

“Fantastic,” the captain growled. “Get back up the tower and start a quiet search for it. I’m guessing that there is a lot of magical knowledge in there. Knowledge that needs to stay away forms eh Fujikans. Oh and there can only be a few people, all of them in your coven who could have messed up the pookkalam the first time. If you need a discrete communication path you can use Mandy here. She can reach me without raising an eyebrow at times a liaison could not.”

As Fitzhugh rose to leave he remarked. “And any of the guards on watch at the top of the magi tower that night. They also had the opportunity to mess with the pookkalam.” He bent to pick up the disk.

“No, leave that here.” The captain said. “Mandy will bring it up to you in a minute I just need a quick word with her about decorum.”

As the door closed behind Fitzhugh, Mandy opened her mouth to speak. She was interrupted by her father. “Thank you honey, it was good of you to think your way though all of that. But just a coupe of points to bear in mind. I have spies, good spies looking for the mages already. Looking for the spies? Spy vs spy is dangerous stuff and you already have a task during this siege. Don’t get so focused on spies you fail the mage stuff. It’s your dream so don’t miss your chance. But in a minute I will ask your friend Mické to help keep an eye out for spies with you.”

“And the other avenue of attack?” Mandy asked.

Her father grinned widely. “Oh I’m hoping there’s a second attack avenue. I’m banking on it. Anyway you had better send in young Mické. Stick around for five minutes and he can take you back up the tower.”

She smiled rising and giving him a hug as they walked to the door. “Night daddy, stay safe.”

“Hey I’m not in the crazy group who’s own casts throw them off the roof. You watch your back.” Opening the door he beckoned Mické in as his daughter walked out.

They walked back to the desk. “Mickie, we have to be quick, she’ll remember the disk and be back for it. But this is too good an opportunity to miss. Get some of the boys on the search for that seventh mage she’s right he won’t be with he others. If they find him don’t try and knife him. He’s going to be alone and paranoid. Probably unassailable. Get the message back.”

He paused to breathe. “I know that you already have the boys on the lookout for the spies. There will be three at a minimum and whilst it’s prudent to check the shift of watchmen you and I both know that HMCC has at least one mole. There is a traitor in that coven. I’ve given you an excuse to get up top and look for that spy with Mandy. Don’t mess it up. If my daughter gets hurt because you take her somewhere and do something stupid I will end you. Anything from your side?”

“There’s been more than a few ships passing in the night between the two forts. IF you know what I mean. I’ve lost two but they’ve lost four. There is more than just the one HMCC spy here to justify the traffic. I have the boys going through the serving staff. Someone tried to poison the coven this morning. It was poorly done and we caught it early. It was a foolish effort. I almost expected to be a trap. Instead it turned out to be a blackmail case.”

He took a breath. “The spy game is heating up sir.”

“That’s another reason your right next to my daughter. Look after her.” The captain took breath. “Anyway you had better go. Good luck and happy hunting.” He opened the door. “Mandy you forgot Fitzhugh’s glowy thingy. Come and take it away before it makes me ill.”

In a minute it was gone and the place was deserted. The captain walked up to his map. A second attack avenue huh. Should have seen that coming. Still it was a captain’s job, bluff and cover.