Magic

By Marco Bertamini

Magic was everywere in Zibar.
But what has happened to the Grand Wizard?
The Witch of the marshes and Captain Nero and
Prince Ruiak are all behaving rather strangely.
And have you ever played poison ball? That
might help.
A story of discovery and the magic of everyday
life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marco Bertamini
• Release date: Feb 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466043404

Marco Bertamini

Marco lives in Liverpool, UK.

Book preview

Magic

Marco Bertamini

Copyright © 2012 by Marco Bertamini

Written in November 2011 during

NAtional NOvel WRIting MOnth (www.nanowrimo.org)

Cover image courtesy of Andrew Bennett

Edited by Kate Bennett

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Chapter index

Chapter One p 3

Chapter Two p 11

Chapter Three p 20

Chapter Four p 33

Chapter Five p 41

Chapter Six p 51

Chapter Seven p 61

Chapter Eight p 72

Chapter Nine p 81

Chapter Ten p 93

Chapter Eleven p 106

Chapter Twelve p 113

Chapter Thirteen p 121

Chapter Fourteen p 133

Chapter Fifteen p 144

Out-takes p 151

Chapter One

There were wheels hanging from the ceiling. Some of them were spinning. A few large wooden contraptions were scattered on the long tables, but they extended in the air well above the height of a person. Strings linked one set of mechanisms with another, but it was not clear whether this was to add stability to something that might otherwise fall to pieces or because they were serving a mechanical purpose. For none of the contraptions there was an easily discernable function.

Old Mad Pahn was working on something at the table nearer the door. It was actually something quite small, like a small model of a wagon. The piece he was pulling on with some effort was an axle that had a set of wooden teeth at one end. All the other Wizards in the Royal Palace always referred to him as Old Mad Pahn, although in the past he had been just Mad Pahn. But age had not changed him that much. Although the workshop was a shared facility and therefore it belonged to all the Wizards working in the Palace, he had become the unofficial owner of the place simply because of the number of hours that he had spent in it.

He had lost his left eye in an accident involving some Magical powder that had exploded. He had also lost the little finger of his right hand because of a separate accident with a vice. The fact that the defects where on opposite sides of the body was a great relief to him and to his friends. The Spirit of the air can be badly upset by a physical imbalance in the Spirit of the earth.

Every person is inhabited by three Spirits. The Spirit of the air was given to people by the Gods and is the only one that survives death. The Spirit of the earth is what makes the heart beat and the body move. But it is the Spirit of water that makes people happy or sad, fearful or angry, cheerful or gloomy. Animals with a heart, like horses and sheep and iguanas have a Spirit of the earth, and also a Spirit of the water. Simple animals like worms and caterpillars have only a Spirit of the earth, because they are void of any emotions.

The workshop was in the lower level of the Royal Palace, partly underground. Therefore this was a dark place, although there were narrow windows along the top of the walls. It was a wide and long space running half way down the eastern wing of the building, underneath the library.

Pass me the other axle.

The boy next to him looked hurriedly for something on the cluttered table. He was a bit uneasy at the way that Old Mad Pahn could look at people from his one good eye, but he was trying his best to do what he was asked.

I'm sorry, maestro, but what does an axle look like?

I need the second one, the other one that looks just like this one.

He waved the small cylindrical piece of wood in the air. Eventually the boy found it and passed it to the Wizard.

Maestro, I have been sent here to remind you about the dinner ceremony.

Yes, dinner, good. I would love some dinner. Can I have it here? That would be nice, thank you.

I don't think so, maestro. That is the point. Wizard Alhan sent me with specific instructions to remind you that everybody is expected to be in the refectory when the bell tolls.

Oh, terribly hard to hear the bell from down here you know.

Yes maestro. I think that is why I have been sent here.

What? So that you do not hear the bell?

No maestro, so that you do not forget to come up from the workshop.

My boy, your name is Polon, isn't it? You look just like your father, you know?

My name is Talo, Polon is older than me and he has blond hair.

Talo, right, I remember now. Polon is your brother. You look just like your brother, you know?

I don't have any brothers.

The apprentice was being very patient. He knew that Old Mad Phan was, well, a bit eccentric and forgetful. Apprentices were expected to be present at every meal in the refectory, but he was aware that often the senior Wizards would choose not to attend the communal meals. Old Mad Phan was rarely present, and perhaps this was one of the reasons why he was so thin. On this particular day there was a special reason why the Wizard had been summoned. Before the meal there was going to be a speech given by the Speaker of the Council of the Elders. All Wizards were, therefore, expected to attend.

Of course I am coming to dinner. It is just that this bit here you see …

Can you not finish the building of this ... Magical instrument after the dinner ceremony?

Magical? Oh no my dear Polon, there is nothing Magical about this thing here. It is a type of transmission system, you see. It would be much simpler if it were Magical, wouldn't it? Then you can simply say the right words and it would do what you want. But where is the fun in that?

Maestro, I think I have just heard the bell, please come with me.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Magic was everywhere in Zibar.

The great Serpent in the Northern Sea, the Snowman prowling the mountains of the Eastern Sierra, the Polyhorn in the never-ending desert of the south, and perhaps the most dangerous of them all, the Witch of the Orange River marshes, in the West; every child had heard terrible stories of the monsters that guarded the country of Zibar. It was reassuring to know that they lived far away and that they were acting as protection from outside.

There were many different stories about exactly what was the threat from outside. But it was not likely to be from Bamisiar in the south. Although little was known about it, and trade across the desert was dangerous, what was known was that the trolls living in Bamisiar were savages. They were too primitive to mount any kind of threat to the civilised world in the north. Trolls were a different species from humans, large and powerful in build, with almost no chin, a receding forehead and a protruding face. They were strong but slow, and mostly vegetarians. Some had been captured and used as slaves in Zibar in the past, but this was old history that went back to when Zibar was a more powerful Kingdom than it was at the time of this story.

The people of Zibar were not likely to have much to fear from the Republic of Iksifar in the east. The mountains were high, the roads across them were treacherous and nobody would dream of crossing the Eastern Sierra anywhere else than at Saddle Pass, but Iksifar was a country rather similar to Zibar and there was frequent trading of goods, and some movement of people. It was also possible to travel between the countries by boat along the coast.

Westalia was very different from Iksifar and from Zibar, and there were good reasons to be afraid of the raids from the West. The Orange River marked the boundary between the two regions, and in the north, the large delta was a marshland that could not be easily crossed. Here is where the Witch of the marshes lived.

The great sea in the north was navigated by the Zibarian ships for the local trade, but they always kept close to the coast, or ventured out only as far as the archipelago of the Dog Islands, which comprised a dozen or so islands and many more rocks of various sizes. Navigation was always dangerous because in addition to the storms and the reefs, there were pirates, and the fiercest of the pirates, the infamous Captain Nero, had his base on one of the small islands of the archipelago, though nobody knew how to get there. At least that is what lots of stories were saying about the mysterious Captain Nero.

Inland, most people in Zibar lived along one of three main rivers, and the main one, known as the mighty Green River, was flowing through Zibarrea, the capital city. Zibarrea was by far the largest of the cities in the region, and it attracted people from all over the country for its power, its wealth, and the beauty of its buildings.

In Zibarrea, walking up along Procession Road, one could not fail to be impressed by the sight of the Royal Palace. It was located in a slightly elevated position and visible from afar. One could sense Magic just by looking at it. Most people in Zibar knew something about how to build a house. The basic materials were wood, reed, and clay, and small glass panes for windows could be purchased if one had enough money. But the Royal Palace was built of large stone bricks and it had not just one large hall, but rooms above it. If you have never seen a building with rooms above rooms you will just have to try and imagine very high walls and rooms with a solid roof over which people will actually walk, and above that another room and only at the very top a roof to keep the rain out. Along the outside walls of the Royal Palace there were four layers of rooms, with four rows of windows visible from below.

The scale of the building had no equal anywhere in the rest of the country. The most powerful Wizards, including Wizard Whitebeard himself, had directed the building of the Palace many generations ago, and Magic must have been used to achieve such results.

Zibar was a Kingdom, but it was governed though a set of powerful guilds and councils. The most important of these political institutions was the Council of the Elders. Most people felt proud of calling themselves Zibarians. Slavery had been outlawed for many years, although slaves were still present along the coast in the north where powerful Barons ruled their cities almost as Kings, and near the outposts in the south at the border with Bamisiar.

At the time of the insurrection in the neighbouring Kingdom of Iksifar, the old Zibarian Royal family had been threatened with a violent revolution and had wisely decided to release the hold on power in exchange for a lazy life in the countryside. After that the Council of the Elders was established and based in the magnificent Royal Palace, where it was assisted by a group of highly trained Wizards. After the revolution Iksifar had become a democracy with an elected President, while Zibar was a monarchy only in name.

Despite the fact that Zibar was seen as a rich land from the outside, life for the vast majority of the people was not easy; it depended greatly on the fortunes of the harvest, and many Zibarians felt it necessary to mix their work in the fields with some hunting and some fishing. But there had been no wars for many generations, and the Council of the Elders was seen as benevolent, although somewhat indolent. The power, most people understood, was not in their hands anyway. It was in the hands of the Grand Wizard and the other Wizards of the Palace. Their Magic was what protected Zibar from harm.

-=-=-=-=-=-

In recent months, there had been reports of significant changes in Westalia. These changes were in connection with the death of the old King Hammarak, who had died in an accident while hunting. Westalia was the name used in Zibar to refer to the large country that extended beyond the western swampland, after the delta of the Orange River. This land was known as Ash Gebr to the various peoples who lived in the West, and as Upper Gebr along the coast.

The Empire of Westalia, or Gebr Empire, was immense. It extended from the northern coast to the desert of the south. It had the Orange River on one side, at the border with Zibar, and .., well nobody knew exactly what was in the far western reaches of the Empire. It was so extensive that the links between the King and many of the provinces was weak and in some cases only temporary. If someone had visited a fishing village far away along the coast, stopped the first person near the harbour and asked what was the name of the King the fisherman may not have been able to answer.

Very few travellers from Zibar had even reached as far as the capital of Westalia, known as the windy city, but everybody in Zibar knew that Westalians were fierce warriors. In the interior of the land the people that belonged to the Ash ethnic group were a nomadic tribe. They would travel the vast steppes of the west on their black horses.

Across the centuries there had been a pattern of constant conflict between tribes and between the people of these neighbouring regions, and occasional raids on the Zibarian borderlands. The time of a change of dynasty was the most dangerous, as the conflict between Princes and would-be Kings would push them to demonstrate their power and valour by fighting and conquering new lands.

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Grand Wizard Merhin was not himself. He tried to move his right arm but found it difficult. He picked up the glass of water with his left hand instead. He was not going to attend the Inauguration festival. Matilea came into the room to check on