Firebrand

A Pair Earthbound

Martel stood in the entrance hall, slightly unsure of himself. His new class to replace the infirmary had been titled something strange such as waterways or similar without much additional description. Furthermore, it had not listed any classroom or location at the Lyceum where the lessons would take place; the accompanying note had simply explained to gather in the entrance hall and be dressed for the outdoors. Martel glanced at the three novices, whom he had met when working in the infirmary. They had come for the same purpose, presumably, which made sense, as their education seemed to follow the same track as his. At least this suggested he had come to the right place at the right time.

A woman in the purple robe of the faculty appeared. "Four novices, none of them knowing what to do with themselves. You must be my students. I am Vana, Mistress of Water at the Lyceum." She looked to be in her forties, hair done elaborately but without cosmetics or jewellery to augment her appearance. Although her words could be interpreted as condescending, her demeanour seemed friendly enough, and Martel did not get the impression that she actually disliked her students.

Mindful of Master Alastair's advice, he looked lively and waited for an opportunity to make a good impression.

"Come along. I shall explain while we walk, considering we have only one bell before we must return." She made a quick gesture for them to follow her as she trotted out of the hall.

They hurried after her, trying to stay close to hear her speaking without getting in each other's way. Thankfully, this early in the morning, traffic on the streets was light. They moved eastwards towards the bridge district.

"Morcaster has a massive system of waterways. Some of that is the sewers, of course, discharging into the sea. The other, which runs alongside but for obvious reasons must be separate, contains our drinking water. The source of this is the river Alonde, flowing outside the eastern side of the city walls, though rainwater is also collected for this purpose," Mistress Vana rattled off.

Martel had only entered and left the city through the northern gates; while he knew of the river, of course, he had not actually ever gone to see it. He had never had any reason to go in that direction or cross the bridge that lay just east of the city.

"Much of this water is collected in cisterns, especially the gathered rainwater. But our system using river water connects throughout the city and is stored in towers as the one you see ahead, distributing it to the surrounding district squares." The teacher pointed at a stone tower that rose before their eyes.

Martel had seen one or two of those moving around the city, but had never considered their purpose. If asked, he would have assumed they served as watchtowers or such for the city guard.

"This reserve serves us well in times of drought, or Stars forbid, should the city ever come under siege and we somehow would be cut off from the river. Though I grant that is unlikely." Eventually, they reached the tower. Mistress Vana took out a key and unlocked the door. "The city employs a number of watermages to serve a few functions. Primarily, keeping an eye on the reserves, but also investigating any potential blockage or other such issues, maintaining the system itself and so on." She led them into the tower itself and up a narrow staircase that spiralled along the edge of the building.

On one side of the stairs, the outer wall of the tower. On the other side, the reservoir that held massive amounts of water, though the stonework kept Martel from having any sense of its presence. In between, the novices and their teacher walking one by one towards the top.

"In extreme periods, such as long-lasting droughts, watermages may even be employed to pull moisture from the air itself to help fill the reserves. Though I have not experienced such myself in my years at the school."

Finally, they reached a small platform at the top, which let them gaze down into the reservoir. The water flowed at a level six or ten feet below; sunlight only reached them through tiny windows at the top, making it hard to tell as they peered down into the dark basin.

"Due to its importance – we all need to drink water, after all – all novices at the Lyceum must be instructed in how the waterways work, even if you will not train as watermages. And besides making sure we have sufficient water, we must also be certain it is drinkable. To that end, an alchemist's rod should be floating in every reservoir."

Martel raised his hand. "What is that?"

Mistress Vana gave him a wry look. "We are only four, you can just ask. An alchemist's rod is basically a branch that floats in the water. It has been treated in various ways to show discolouration if the water contains toxins. The most common kind, at least." She leaned over the railing to point into the darkness below. "Every day, a watermage will check the rod. Which requires the ability to sense it among the water and raise it up. Anyone care to try?"

Martel stepped forward to the railing. He could sense the water easily, and he tried to let his magical senses pour into it. It proved a mistake. Just like frosty breath disappearing into the empty air on a cold morning, his magic spread through the great mass of liquid, as if dissolving. It was beyond his ability to shape or control this much.

He changed tactics. The rod was made of wood, presumably, or some material like that, floating. Rather than focus on the water, Martel reached out until he felt an elongated object. Keeping a careful grasp on his sorcery, he shaped a narrow column of water around the object and lifted it towards himself. His eyes became blurry from the sheer pressure of keeping his magic restricted rather than letting it spread out among the remaining liquid, but he continued the spell until Mistress Vana could reach out and grab the rod.

"Very well done." She inspected the strange staff, carved with markings at specific intervals, and threw it back into the reservoir.

~

Early evening, a pair of youths crossed the city to reach the copper lanes. Maximilian took the lead, steering them down a different path than yesterday.

"Isn't it this way?" Martel asked, pointing in another direction.

"We are going to a different establishment tonight."

"Why? It worked great yesterday."

"Exactly. We show up to the same place with the same luck as yesterday, we invite scrutiny. No, we change venue every night."

"Oh, clever."

They reached another ordinary-looking house, and the procedure from yesterday repeated itself. Maximilian paid a small fee and gained entrance with his supposed valet at his side. They headed for the dice games, and the young nobleman took a seat, soon winning and losing stacks of silver.

After a while, the bets reached a size of five birds, which seemed the limit of what people in the copper lanes would wager at a time. Maximilian's latest opponent, who had a thin face and sinewy arms, scratched his scraggly beard. "How about playing by Tyrian rules? None of those even throws, get the game flowing faster."

"Fine by me." Maximilian stacked five coins on the table. "Feel free to make the first roll."

The other player took the time to empty his mug and slam it down, making the silver jangle, before he swept up the dice, rolled them around in his hands, and let them fall quickly while Martel was still distracted. Pair with earth. A strong result.

As Maximilian prepared to roll, Martel considered the options. He had already made his friend win the last couple of wagers, and making Maximilian win this one with a pair of emperors seemed too lucky. Better to make him roll a pair of elements, forcing a tie and a reroll. He could make the other player roll something low, making Maximilian's win seem much more likely.

Thus, as Maximilian let the dice tumble, Martel made them show a pair with fire.

The other gambler grinned and pulled the silver to him.

"Wait, why did you lose – my lord?" Martel asked, belatedly remembering his role.

"We play by the Tyrian rules," Maximilian explained with a clenched jaw. "The elements are no longer valued the same. Earth, water, fire, air, in that order. Not that it matters, since you will not be touching the dice."

They continued with a few more wagers, and with his expanded knowledge of the rules, Martel made sure that Maximilian won more than he lost, slowly increasing his stack of silver. His opponent grew visibly frustrated at each loss, helped along by more tankards of ale until his face looked red and sweaty.

"Ten! Tyrian rules still," the player growled, pushing the aforementioned amount out onto the table.

"Very well, we will make this the last one." Maximilian looked over his shoulder and up at Martel standing behind him. "We shall head home after this last wager."

Satisfied with that, Martel focused. As the young nobleman threw the dice, Martel gave him a pair of fools. Respectable result without seeming too lucky.

The other gambler picked up the dice, but before he let them roll, he grabbed his mug and emptied it. Slamming it down on the table as before, he quickly let the dice fall onto the table.

One of them stopped on earth almost immediately, but the other took an extra tumble. It nearly ended on the same symbol, giving the sinewy man a winning throw, until Martel convinced the clay cube to make one more turn, landing on a crown.

A pair beat two different symbols. With a smile, Maximilian grabbed the silver.

His opponent leapt to his feet. "Something is wrong! That would have landed on earth. I was going to get a pair with earth and beat you!"

Maximilian narrowed his eyes. "You seem awfully sure of that."

The nearest bruiser, tasked with keeping the peace between hot-headed gamblers, came over. "No trouble here," he growled.

"He seems very certain that his bones would produce a pair with earth, right after he insisted we played by Tyrian rules," Maximilian explained, gesturing from the dice on the table to his opponent.

The sinewy man stammered objections, but the guard ignored him. "This right?" he asked of the other gamblers at the nearby table. They nodded and confirmed the story.

The bruiser picked up the dice and let them roll on the table. They showed a pair with earth. He repeated his gesture, gaining the same result. "Right, you're coming with me." Grabbing the weighted dice with one hand, he caught the gambler by the collar with the other and began dragging him out.

~

As they walked home, Martel kept wondering what fate awaited the man exposed for cheating. "What will they do to him?" he finally had the stomach to ask. "The man with the false bones."

Maximilian shrugged. "He will lose a few fingers, if he is lucky, and they will put a mark on his hands to show he is not welcome any more."

"Are we responsible for that? We exposed him, after all."

"He cheated, and now he must suffer the consequences. If that bothers you, think about the twenty-two pieces of silver you earned tonight."

Martel took Maximilian's advice and did some quick calculations, which in his case still took a little while. But this should give him thirty-nine birds; nearly enough for what Shadi needed. One more night, and they would be done.