I kept my face smooth but inwardly I was smiling. “Such as?” I asked.
“I’ve been thinking about what you told me before… about the things you read in that book on the history of Illeniel. I’d like to know more,” he answered.
“You think you can do something about it,” I concluded.
“No, but that’s the point. I don’t know. Until now I’ve been a victim, and that’s part of what makes it so painful. Not only did she manipulate and betray me, she left me with the knowledge that nothing I do will matter. No action I can take now will affect her or the other gods in the slightest. Mankind as a whole and me in particular, we are insignificant… unworthy of regard or consideration.” Marc leaned back and gazed at the cooling metal I had set aside.
“You think there might be knowledge that will help?” I suggested.
His eyes snapped back to my face, “Yes. The story you told me about the sundering, if true, is proof of that. If the gods were once less than they are now… then they aren’t immortal, eternal, or unchanging.” He clenched his fist as he spoke and I could see the anger simmering beneath his cool exterior.
“And if they aren’t?”
Marc gave me a grin that sent a shiver down my spine, “Then they aren’t gods, and if they aren’t gods then they can be brought to task for the things they have done.”
“Even if they aren’t omnipotent it’s very likely you still won’t be able to hurt them,” I reminded him.
“I have a friend who might be able to…,” he said, looking squarely at me.
I suffered a moment of self-doubt, “That’s a big leap. There’s little indication anyone might have that sort of power.”
“Moira Centyr did…,” he said bluntly.
“She was an archmage.”
“So are you,” he replied.
“Maybe,” I admitted. “In any case, she only defeated one god… and that was with a lot of help.”
“It doesn’t matter Mort. I’ll seek what knowledge I can find. If any of it proves useful then I’ll have made some sort of difference. If not… well I feel much better knowing you’re there to help me… if it comes to that,” he stopped there.
“Where do you plan to start?” I asked.
“Your house… there may be more histories in your father’s library. After that I’ll scour the libraries of the nobility… and if I can get to them, the records of the churches.”
That gave me pause, there might be information there that none of us could guess at. “You’re an ex-saint, which makes you about as popular with the followers of the evening star as a skunk at a tea party. You think they would let you near their coveted records now?”
“No… but I need a challenge,” he declared. There was a light in Marc’s eyes again. He wasn’t the same man he had been, but he was better than the broken creature I’d found in his room a few days before. Revenge might be a poor motive, but it was better than despair.
“I’m assuming you want me to take you to the capital.”
“Of course,” he said with a smile.
“I’ll take you after dinner this evening. I was planning to make a trip that way in a few days anyway. Now I can use that as an excuse to check on your progress,” I informed him.
“Why are you going to Albamarl?” he asked.
I gave him my own evil grin, “I promised the king I would stop by and visit him.”
A frown passed over his face before being replaced by a smirk, “You know… since you came and spent that week with me over a year and a half ago you’ve done nothing but make enemies. The list just keeps getting longer.”
“When you have friends as good as mine you have to find a way to balance things out,” I replied jokingly. Then I took a chance and asked a more direct question, “Are you feeling better?”
“If you were someone else I would say yes,” he answered with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m not going to get ‘better’ Mort. I’m just going to get even, if possible.”
“So your good humor has just been a facade?”
“Mostly. Even so, my facade is better looking than you do, even on a good day,” he snapped back.
“Ha!”
“Anyway, Mort, I do need to thank you. I still don’t really want to live, but you made me realize I had the choice and if I’m going to stick around a while longer I might as well do something to pay the bitch back for what she did to me. No sense in wallowing in self-pity meanwhile. When I’ve had enough I’ll let you know.” He stepped closer and embraced me in a bear hug.
Marc left after that and I collected my thoughts and returned to my work on the armor. As I worked my thoughts kept returning to what he had said, particularly the part about Moira Centyr. I still had a lot of questions about her. I hadn’t spent much time exploring my new abilities since the day Penny and I had broken the bond. I wasn’t even sure if I should call them ‘abilities’. For the most part it just seemed like a broader form of communication.
Things like what I was doing now… working with the metal before me, those were clearly normal wizardry. I was using my own power to shape the material in my hands. So far I hadn’t seen anything impressive about this ability that supposedly meant I was an archmage. Sure I could hear the earth, the wind, and a myriad of smaller things, but thus far it seemed to be mainly an informational ability. There were a few things that puzzled me though, such as when the earth had shaken back in Albamarl, when I threatened the banker. Or the way the wind had tossed Ariadne’s hair a few days back, just after I had thought about it. In each case something had happened, but I hadn’t felt directly responsible. Unlike wizardry, I hadn’t exerted my own power, but nevertheless something had happened which coincided with my own thoughts and feelings.
Moira Centyr in particular was a startling example of something far beyond the ken of normal wizardry. Whatever she had done a thousand years before had changed her into a creature of the earth itself, an elemental being. How such a thing could happen was beyond my ability to guess, but as I pondered it I realized that I didn’t have to guess.
My last contact with her had been while I was desperately trying to heal Penny. Naturally I hadn’t had a chance to ask any non-essential questions at the time, but there was no reason I couldn’t ask them now. I had actually been considering trying to contact her since that day, but until now I had had too many things distracting me to make a serious attempt.
The metal in my hands had gone cold. Startled, I realized I had been standing idle for several moments. I set the piece down and decided the time had come to do something. Walking outside I washed my hands and face in the water trough near the door. I should find someplace a bit more private, I thought to myself.
I took a walk, through the village and out the gate. As I went I studied the repairs to the outer wall. During Gododdin’s siege of my home they had breached the outer wall that encircled the town of Washbrook. After our victory it had been the first thing on our list of important things to rebuild. The work had gone well and now the section of wall that had been torn down was only remarkable by the difference in color between the new stone and the older stone of the undamaged parts of the wall.
The masons were now laying the foundation for a much larger wall that would encircle the area where our palisade had been… and more. The most uncomfortable thing about the siege had been the crowding created by the fact that some of the town was outside of the defensive walls. If it ever came to that again I intended to make sure that we had room and then some for any future sieges. Once the new outer wall was built I would have several large barracks constructed, along with storehouses for food and supplies.
I didn’t actually anticipate needing to fill those barracks with soldiers, but if I had to shelter the people of the county again there would be plenty of space for the farmers and their families to stay. I should probably consider having a second well dug to provide easier access to fresh water, I thought.