World Without Bounds

By Mark Leon Collins

Narrated by Silvane, an apprentice to the wizard Herloff, this tale of heroics and foolishness relates a mission to eliminate a renegade witch, Rhavinia. On their way as they gather an unlikely company of heroes, they realise the degree of the complexity of their task. Essentially the future of the kingdom rests on their success or failure and Rhavinia is tougher than anyone dared to dream. As Silvane narrates, we have insights about the world of wizards that is aloof from the ordinary world, and the difficulties that arise when the two worlds cross. All this and more, Silvane relates their exciting encounters and events that constantly dog their progress.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sheep Pen Publishing
• Release date: Jan 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224747689

Book preview

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CHAPTER ONE

With the distinct sense of being watched, I walked quickly away from the jail. It was not a place I had become used to, but this moment of freedom had me a little disorientated. Not because I had not fended for myself for so long, but the village of Dunberg I had known was now more of a town. Burgomaster Flavin Emerzon must have spent a fortune building the place. Heading towards the road that I recalled would take me home, I wondered why no one had come to collect me.

Then a cry went up. Get him! Get Silvane, that sorcerer!

I found myself running now, but the years of idleness in jail had cost me my stamina. Darting breathlessly into an alleyway alongside a tavern, I realised I was at a dead end. I could think of nothing to help me. One of the gang members grabbed my arm as I gasped prayers to Heimdall.

Twisted around by the shoulder I recognised this assailant to be the nemesis of my youth. He was the gang leader; big and tough and naturally menacing. The long time bully wheezed groggy breath into my face. He, Rayden. pushed my slight frame against the wall and said coldly, You’re done for.

Muttering a basic spell, I pushed him back. Determined to hurt me, he leapt again. Feeble, helpless, I was feeling sick. My mind raced. ‘What spell can I cast? What spell can I cast?’ But there was none, not other than the one I had just used. Now I wished I had spent more time those years in jail honing my concentration. This should be child's play.

He loomed over me as one hand pinned me to the wall with terrifying ease. His arm, more muscular than most men; his arm was the girth of my thigh.

You’re going to wish you had never got out! Rayden promised.

One of his dozen or so henchmen ran to the alley entrance to take watch.

I looked into his cold eyes and took note of his face. I decided this would not go unchecked once I had the power. I would remind him not just of this day but of the countless times he had bullied me.

My! Rayden’s voice grated with the tone of a madman. His mates stood around grinning with sadistic glee. With one hand he lifted me from my feet as if I were no more than a toy-master’s puppet. We’ll sell yer pieces to the doctor for his studies since you’re a total waste of flesh, he declared with cruel satisfaction.

His cohorts snorted and chuckled all the more. Then he dropped me squarely to my feet. Faint with fear, my legs barely took the weight. Rayden’s grip on my chest remained steady and firm, he was not about to let me go. With his free hand, Rayden drew a dagger and pressed it against my throat. Forcing me against the wall, crushing me, his brow locked against mine. He maniacally cackled while his breath forced against my breath and his eyes— half crazed—bored into mine.

I had no choice but to repeat my spell, pathetic as it was, and he stepped back again. This angered him and he tightened his grip on his dagger.

His gang, in crazed anticipation of blood, crowded around us.

Are you playing with me, Silvane? Spittle sprayed into my face. His eyes burnt with hatred. My sweat prickled against my body and I could not think how I could save myself. I was pitiful.

Then a voice boomed from the top of the alley. A man sat saddle in complete control of his horse. With one hand gripping the hair of the lookout, his other hand wielded a longsword.

This was Blackblade! A thick dark braided beard, the envy of any dwarve, hid his features save that of long hair and sparkling brown eyes. Let him go or this one will die, he promised.

Hope swept over me. The rider I knew as our weapon smith!

What’s this? Rayden snarled.

Not a good swap, Rayden, said one.

I couldn’t agree more but wisely kept silent.

He loosened his grip on me and his gang started to spread out with their backs to the end of the alley.

Dragging the lookout by the hair, Blackblade rode forward towards us. Let him alone. It was an order.

Jerking the dagger away from me, Rayden said fiercely beneath his breath, Yer lucky. But count your stars.

The time will come when you remember this day, I said to Rayden. Then I walked swiftly to Blackbeard who released the youth once I joined him.

Blackblade turned his horse and bid me follow. Around the corner was a horse for me.

You can’t be left alone for a minute, can you? He tutted. Paber’s at the Green Emerald.

It was a tavern for the more refined of patrons in the area, a far cry from what I recalled. What was once wooden and somewhat ramshackled was now brick clad and prettily painted. As ever the mill stood over the meadow, powered by the fast-flowing river. Burgomaster Sir Flavin Emerzon had elevated this little village of Dunhill to a respectable township.

Entering the Green Emerald, I took stock of everything from the decor to the patrons. In my shabby tunic I felt completely out of place. Having become accustomed to quietude, the noise was overwhelming, added to which, all things considered, were the looks and the stares. Furthermore, the air was a fog of smoke from tabban pipes. It was truly awful. For a moment I preferred the dungeon.

You don’t look a day older from the moment Emerzon demanded you be handed over.

Nice to hear, I said, eyeing my peer, Paber; he looked more mature to me now.

But you look like you been sleeping with every vermin in a dungeon.

I looked at him blankly. Overweight, and his face was stuffed full with food, right now he sported a yellow beret. Did I ever like him? Had you visited you would know I have.

Silvane. Blackbeard seemed to savour every consonant to my name. White teeth gleamed through his beard. The years had treated him kindly.

Blackblade, I returned, thank you.

You’re free now. But Herloff asked me to let you know he wants you to finish your apprenticeship with him.

Good, I said. But why isn’t he here?

Blackblade shrugged. Then after a few seconds of drinking from his jug, clearly changing the course of the questions, he said, You might be interested to know that his old master has recently been murdered.

Oh? Who by? Do we know?

I’ll let Herloff talk to you. It’s not for me to say too much when I know so little about what’s going on, myself. He paused and took another draught. He spoke softly. The other apprentices you knew are wizards in their own rights now.

Paber beamed with pride.

You’ve lost a lot of time. What? Six years? Look, He nodded toward Paber. He’s a mage now.

Paber raised his eyebrows and checked no one could overhear.

My stomach sank with self pity and humiliation. Well done, Paber. I wondered what my voice sounded like.

Let’s eat, Paber suggested, and called over a maid. I wondered if they had changed their mind about letting you out, said Paber taking a sip of wine. He swallowed. What took you so long to get here?

Some street rats hooked him up, said Blackblade by way of explanation, and shrugged.

Childhood enemies. I said as if in passing.

Really Silvane. You ought to mind your company, no matter where you are.

They said they wanted to sell me to the doctor for his studies. I saw him stuff more food into his mouth and so I said, You know, liver and bladder, that sort of thing.

Do you mind? Paber cringed. It’s of no concern.

Surprised we had not been turned out because of my attire; we ate beef stew over a second drink. The alcohol had gone to my head for it had been so long since I had been accustomed to it. The meal was delicious and not, I think, merely because of contrast to prison fare.

When the time came, we left for a tailor. White hose, blue tunic, grey cape and a blue cap boasting a peacock feather carelessly placed pointing to one side, I believed I looked great. But to be rid of my jail clothes was enough on its own.

So, we rode for the afternoon to the wizard’s tower where we lived. Our horses were stabled in a cave also housing most of the community of servants. Dun Bar was the name and we entered through the hollow of an old oak tree.

Once beneath the tree, I could feel nothing but secure. It was a most welcome feeling. How glad I am to be home! I cried to no one in particular. I was truly free, free at long, long last and able to resume my life, never to be caught up in foolish mischief again.

Once in Herloff’s chambers, he looked at me long through grey eyes. How does it feel? He asked.

I feel... I feel... I faltered. I could smell the chemicals and bits and pieces of dissected animals. Well, I feel less than an apprentice ought. It’s been so long. And I have a lot of catching up to do. I sighed. I know I am home and glad to be here but I am starting to feel like a stranger here among the passageways and some of the servants are different. So, I dearly regret what I did—especially enduring the consequences. And I feel like a fool for not escaping. But I thought that would just bring more trouble. But I am grateful for being returned and I wish I could explain myself a bit better. Yet I feel like that child again, when I first got here. Now though, hating myself for wasting so much time. All that said, I had barely drawn a breath.

Herloff nodded. You have spoken well. But in some ways, you are freer than me.

Hard as that was to believe I said only. I understand my peers are all wizards now.

Herloff nodded his long head slowly as he stroked his trimmed brown and greying beard. Whatsisname has left for another tower. Gandelok and Paber remain.

There had been four of us.

Has Paber told you anything?

I understand your former master is dead, I replied softly, and a little sadly. Well, Blackblade told me, anyway.

He nodded slowly again. I have been offered the opportunity to avenge his murder. And I have agreed to do so. Her name is Rhavinia and she is a powerful sorceress, by accounts, so it is going to be dangerous.

Why did she murder him? I felt my stomach tighten.

Apparently she took exception to Margor’s complaint and warning that she was dabbling too freely in politics. She claimed he was blackmailing her which went without proof. As far as I know I don’t believe Margor would blackmail anyone. Not for all his faults. Anyway, she further claimed he was spying on her; which, as you know is taboo. Whatever, she is tangled up in politics and she killed him and so is ripe for judgement.

She is an outcast from our Circle?

Herloff paused and drew in breath softly. Not yet, not officially. Apparently, it is a matter of prudence. If she were outcast now then she would be wary of reprisals. It is felt by our arch-magi that protocols should let slip for the foreseeable future. The job must be done and no one knows who her mentor was.

What sort of precedent will this set? I asked. If she be not an outcast?

The precedent is... Herloff slowly and patiently began ...it happens from time to time. It is so retribution can run its course. She ought to have brought the circumstances to the attention of a tribunal.

My heart was unsettled. Magi are obliged to join the circle and undertake an oath to protect each other. If clandestine retribution was wilful, where would it end? So, on a more personal level, I asked, Now where does this leave me? I am your apprentice and you won’t be able to teach me much if you’re chasing after her across the gods know where?

Herloff sighed. You’re familiar with the rudiments of magic. It is true you have a lot to learn from me yet, but it isn’t my fault you languished in jail and did not escape and run to another master. But you will find it all comes together rather quickly. He breathed out, as if he was clearing his mouth of something, and sighed again. He raised his hands above his head and stood on his tip toes. It was somewhat unnerving, but a habit of his when he felt vexed. He had not finished speaking with me, so I politely awaited his leisure. But you’re young, long lived and have plenty of time. And that might go a little as to why you sat it out in jail. You have plenty of time, and you know that. You’re just impatient now. So, if you come with me, you’ll find good and rewarding an experience outside of this closet that calls itself Dun Bar. After all, I should hope you would avenge my murder, would you not?

I couldn’t feel sure of that, so I just nodded mutely.

Never mind about that, Silvane, I didn’t pay your quittance just for this. Emerzon would have you dead. You better believe it. So it is that it would be good with us if you left for a time and never show your face in town again. Everyone is beginning to hate us now that they have known for a long time who we are here. And we don’t have the influence we once enjoyed now they know there is gold in the hills they accuse us of caching away. You really set things off with that prank. It has taken quite some doing to protect you of late.

I thought my magic was enough to befuddle them, I responded with a lame effort to defend myself

But as you will well now know, trying to enchant nearly every noble in the area is somewhat ambitious. No doubt the sentence was an understatement and as to show it he shook his head with a look of exasperation. "Such was your failing. Interfering with other people’s minds is tricky; instinctive reactions to being influenced to another way of thinking always produces fight back and trigger inherent reasoning levers.

Now, everyone in the area knows what wizardry is with us here and they’re frightened of us. Superstition maybe, but we don’t want to go back to the days of old King Tell’s reign. You might never yet have heard of him...

Who is he?

"Who was he? This is how it is and we must deal with it. Short of it is, is we don’t owe you. You owe us. He nodded his head and puckered his lips. He looked at me then, down his nose. Margor lived east of here. We’ll start there. We’ll leave next week as I have things to sort out as well as consult the people I want to take if I can."

Will Blackblade be one of them?

Yes, I hope so.

The seven wizards in Dun Bar had a hierarchy. People like Blackblade saw to the general running of the place leaving the wizards free to pursue their interests. Democratic as the magi were to themselves in choosing a leader, everything is geared for their comforts. We are totally given over to magic, it is what we are. What becomes of us we do not know and cannot tell.

Herloff was respected here and elsewhere amongst the towers we kept in contact with. However, if things become ugly regarding this clandestine mission, Herloff would find himself at odds with the circle. Murder, even tit for tat never goes down lightly.

And then a further worry came to mind. Killing an apprentice bears a penalty of bondage to the value of the apprentice over the years. Were this witch to kill me and Herloff survive without exacting her life, she would have to work for him for quite a number of years. So, I wondered how Herloff would feel about such a scenario, when she had a lot more to offer than I. Dismissing such an awful thought, I bid my leave.

Paber was in the communal lounge. Chairs were pulled before the fireplace though the grate was not lit, cold as this day of Spring had become. He sat reading a book that was a history of various wizards. He was sipping some red wine. He was reading aloud and did not stop when I entered. As he read, he was watching Gandelok study a picture on the wall.

The sides of her head were shaven leaving a crest of hair from her brow to the back of her neck. She wore a leather coif with exaggerated shoulders and maybe half a dozen metal spikes standing in array. Tattoos of glyphs and wards crossed her forehead and her nose was adorned with a couple of gold rings

Marvellous to think our Circle has been around for about four thousand years! remarked Paber lowering his book to his lap.

At least that, commented Gandelok. As she turned to face me, she looked markedly formidable.

If only we could live as long. Paber sighed,

Who knows? She replied. She may be a little bored, I pondered.

Not I. said Paber. Anyway, we’re bound to find something better than longevity potions. He stretched his arms keeping the book balanced on his lap.

Maybe, said Gandelok pouring herself a wine. It was blood red.

I suppose I could cast all to the wind and become a vampire or lich, he mused.

Gods take you, she cursed.

It does seem to me that the gods are little different to us; as devious as us and are as prone as us to die as us. Every one of them. He took a sip of wine. I understand that it was Magni who brought the wizards together and formed them into a common bond. It’s where we get the word ‘mage’, ‘magi’, and whatever. He seemed to sound a little more certain of his words than perhaps his body language let on. Are you coming with Herloff? he asked her.

No, she said.

Ah well, said Paber finishing his wine. Do you like my yellow beret?

I poured myself a drink of blood-red elderberry wine. I had already decided to hasten my tolerance for alcohol and relished the thought of the day I would become a wizard of standing.

Paber raised his glass, Here’s to us.

To us, replied Gandelok.

Aye, I drank to his toast. And to Margor, wherever he is.

Dinner was a pure joy and I was already looking forward to the night where I would lay me down upon my pallet with pillows in the privacy of my room. What change! What luxury!

Herloff said, to confirm our little group, Paber and Blackblade are to come with me, as well as Silvane. The four of us should be ample. He looked at me. A message has been sent to Emerzon that you are being sent away for the foreseeable future. He snorted.

I nodded.

Paber sighed.

Gandelok glowered.

The four other wizards nodded.

Over the following week, Herloff summarised all the lessons he had taught me over the previous years and all my understanding of magic fell into place again. Now I was able to cast minor spells such as casting and curing warts and boils on rats. These of course in place of people of whom I would have loved to rather perfect my craft upon. I could also make the workshop smell fragrant. I did get to continue my long-term goal to summon lightning from the sky, though I was nowhere close to the execution. Over the week I got to choke the pet parrot without bringing it too much harm and I assisted Herloff in developing a general healing potion to staunch bleeding which he thought wise to bring along. The draughts tasted awful and so it was up to me to develop a pleasant flavour.

It was good to be back in the life I felt destined for, to be back where I most belonged. It was a couple of weeks before he felt ready, and those couple of weeks were some of the best days of my life.

Time will tell if the potions work. There should be little risk. At least hopefully nothing like Paber’s problem—he enhanced a flavour of a meal and we think that is why he is so... He paused for effect fat. There now, don’t tell him I told you.

I’ll find a cure, I said with a sly smile.

Herloff considered me; looking very thoughtful he was trying to judge my intent, I think.

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CHAPTER TWO

In no time, so to speak, Master Herloff announced our departure giving me no slack to refine my strangulation spell. He advised us that we would be heading north for a village called ‘Three Rivers’, a couple of days south of Easton City, so it was going to be quite a trek.

Blackblade was bedecked in a chain-mail shirt, leather breeches and furs (which I thought was a bit warm for Spring and the coming Summer), and as for myself I was not especially dressed except for a leather jerkin and my cap; Paber sported his beloved yellow beret.

We passed through villages, lodged in inns,