BECMI Chapter 161 – Clans and Claymores

“Is that so?” I glanced over his shoulder. “Should you not have inherited his Sword then, McMikal?” I asked him directly. Given I had returned said Weapon with the remains...He flushed in shame, glancing at his cousin, who looked slightly embarrassed. “M’lady,” he replied a bit hoarsely, “the license to be carrying a sword about in this city be costing more than the sword!”

“I see. Are you perhaps in the city as a Caergard Attendant? You are in the proper attire,” I noted for him. Before he could respond, I raised a finger. “The correct answer is ‘Yes, I am here as a Caergard Attendant for the sake of my lovely cousin.’”

He was about to say something, thought about it, glanced at his cousin, and near shouted, “Aye, m’lady, I be here as a Caergard Attendant for the sake of me lovely cousin, I am!” he declared right proudly, he did.

“Excellent. Prince McKlannister pushed through an exemption on the sword licenses for Caergard Attendants accompanying those of his House attending the Great School, that they might be in proper Caergard attire while waiting upon their kin. Isadora, accompany your cousin down to the Licensing Office, ask for Natasha, pay five gold for the license, and allow your cousin to wear his sword like a proper Caergard.

“Young McMikal, you must of course be in proper traditional Caergard attire to display your Claymore properly, so this formal attire will become your working uniform… and you must be in attendance upon your cousin for the duration of your stay in Zanzyr City, of course.”

Isadora looked delighted, while the young Miklan McMikal looked impressed. “The old bastard did something for the arms that built the House, now, did he?” he muttered, almost under his breath. “Surprised I am, that he be not mandating that they be attended upon by bones in armor to disguise the rot, or the like.”

Caergard had a reputation for ghost-hauntings and fell necromancy among its lords that rivaled that of my own paternal ancestral House of Bulgarov… which was saying something, as it was bloody obvious to anyone with brains that Prince Mordai was a vampire. Which left one wondering what a peer of Grandmaster Jean-Arc was…

Well, whatever.

McMIkal took the opportunity to step forward and bow to me. “M’lady Edge, I be here to offer me personal thanks for the return of me father’s bones, and the tale of how he died. Isadora’s letters indicated that she knew of ye, and when she heard the tale, did offer to introduce me to ye.”

I glanced around at the rest of my entourage, and made a gesture. Without a word, well-schooled I had made them already, they murmured quick goodbyes and headed off to the School Library, leaving me alone with the two Caergards.

“Something deeper at play between the two of you?” I asked them with cool politeness. “Do not lie to me. It does not work, it offends me, and it makes you look like a fool. I value hostile honesty more than serpentine falsehood, and will judge you accordingly.”

He tensed a bit, glancing at his cousin, who just sighed. “She is a dangerous one to cross, Mick,” Isadora admitted softly. “Scarce three months here, and she has the children of high nobles eating out of her hand. I believe she destroyed that lying snake the Duke of Highwall, and the Zorozo step around her very lightly, if they dare step at all.”

“Well, she didnae turn Uncle Shelby and his fething sots of loin-spawns to dust, so she also be remarkably tolerant, I be thinking,” he sniffed, which drew an arched eyebrow from me. Apparently, he didn’t think much of his rude kin, either.

The Mick took a casual look around us at the fine architecture of the School, gleaming with wealth and sophistication. “As ye may know, there be no great School for the like of us what are not gifted with the Sight and magic and witchery and whatnot,” the Mick went on with, as I’d requested, brutal honesty. “The lot of us what cannae master magic be seen as but tools and arms to be spent furthering the schemes an’ machinations o’ the House’s spellflingers.” The gaze of his eyes upon me was cold and even. “However, the elves take not the same look on martial skills as do the wizards of this land. An elf who crosses the miles to return a warrior to his home and hearth, years after he died, and aye, even cleanses the bones so he might rest in peace, showed more honor than I’ve seen of any of the clans o’ Caergard in all me years.

“I were making a formal request t’ see if ye’d be taking me into yer service, Lady Edge,” he asked blatantly.

I tilted my head thoughtfully, looking back and forth between them. “Why not in service to your cousin here?” I inquired directly. “You seem to have an adequate working relationship…”

“This be Zanzyr, m’Lady Edge,” the Mick declared curtly, and Isadora didn’t even look affronted. “Such a relationship will be frowned upon from all sides. Respect given a mere warrior? They did throw out all such from the nobility long ago. Isadora will be pressured to use me as a tool, belittle me and mine, an’ distance herself from the worries o’ mere mortals. We’ve both seen it happen before, an’ it will happen anon. This be the way o’ Zanzyr.” His voice did not approve of it, but it was indeed the truth.

“You are a Kladelander.” Both of them blinked in astonishment at the observation. “I see the thread on the shoulder of your tartan. Isadora is obviously aware of this. The organization is martial, humanist, belligerent, and opposed to wizards, young McMikal. Would I not be a fool to take such a human into my service?” I inquired coldly.

He opened his mouth to protest such words, stopped himself, and considered what he was about to say. Pretty good control of his temper for a young warrior, I had to say.

“The core beliefs o’ the Highlanders o’ the Klade are that the arts of war and battle are as worthy of respect and value as those of magic, and that those who practice them should be as eligible for rulership and nobility as any other,” he finally said slowly. “Although it rose among us Caergard, it has followers in the lands of most nobles of Zanzyr, and throughout the military forces. The fact it be dominated by humans and be against spellcasters be a natural result of those who be its members.

“There be some resentment against elves for their wielding magic like any wizard, an’ so having a free path to nobility, aye. But we also know elves o’ both Erendyl an’ Colorajo respect martial skill, an’ didnae vote for the system of Wizards now in effect. As I said, an elf treated me father with more respect than me own kin, an’ that be enough for me.

“I chose to believe in the core o’ the Kladelanders, that being a warrior an’ soldier be a worthy path in life, an’ I’ll respect any others that do likewise. If that makes me a rabble-rouser, rebel, and insurgent in Zanzyr, then so be it. There not be any others supporting the warriors fighting an’ dying for this country.”

Well, he wasn’t backing down on his beliefs at all, I gave him that.

“You’re a Six, McMikal,” I noted with some interest. “You’ve seen some action. Anthroids coming down off the Alpes?” I conjectured, remembering the village where I’d delivered the remains.

“Aye, m’lady. Been raised to go to war since I were a babe, once it were plain I had not the Sight an’ such. I’ve fought against raiding tribes an’ a handful of beasts, even killed meself an ogre or two in single combat!” he declared proudly.

“We shall speak again. Come find me once you can carry your Sword proudly, and I may have something for you to do.”

His green eyes lit up, and he half-bowed promptly. “I’ll not disappoint you, m’lady… all in service to me lovely cousin,” he added on quite blandly, and Isadora just laughed.

I sent the two Caergards off, and headed to the Library, thinking.

I’d tested the Northmen, and they’d all been potential Powered, although most of them were gravely suspicious of arcane magic, and most didn’t have the mindset to become Clerics. Hammer Ogvier was tolerable as a Priest of Donner, as long as he focused on the heroic side of things of Donner as a brave warrior and Immortal of Thunder, and not someone who’d earned Immortality by butchering any wizard who was in his way, if the legends were true.

I chalked that up to thousands of years of Patronage by Grimr, changing His people to attain greatness more easily.

The McMikals were descended from off-worlders, however, without a Patron Immortal of their own. The warriors certainly weren’t calling on Thaum, and likely their wizards weren’t, either. Necromancy and unquiet spirits dominated the House, and scuttlebutt was that their Prince was actually undead, possibly a lich, and several other prominent members of the House were undead as well.

In Zanzyr, few cared about such niceties as long as it didn’t impact them personally. What a fine and tolerant magocracy they were, indeed!…

If he could ‘test out’ of being a spellcaster when so young, than it was likely he wasn’t Primos, but his people didn’t know of the existence of Forsaken.

It meant that the warriors of Caergard were potentially a LOT more dangerous than the wizards of the House had any idea, if they were caught young enough, and trained hard enough.

And he wasn’t a Seven, so he had one more chance.

A force of Null Forsaken could be a terrifying opponent to those who relied strictly on magic… but wise elves always had back-up weapons for just that reason, so we were akin to facing an enemy without spells, instead of being a wizard with, well, nothing to fall back on at all.

It was why even Hanvol, a pure wizard, was far more skilled with his Staff now than any warrior had reason to expect. He still couldn’t wear armor, but that was what magical Bracers of Defense were for…

A force of Forsaken could turn this nation on its ear, especially if they invested in Forsaken Matrices and could carry around extra Valences for their Casters. I expected that the love/hate relationship Zanzyran wizards would have for them would be quite tempestuous…

Whether other natives of Zanzyr could attain Forsaken status would be something else. It was possible for a Powered to completely Renounce Magic and do so at One, but for Primos had to be done at One or Human/3 and Seven, and that was all.

It would also completely up-end power dynamics, as Forsaken could completely out-number Casters, and they leaned into and were much more capable with science than magic. I hadn’t introduced the Tradition into Darkmoor as yet, because if there was something that could accelerate the Doom, it would be tons of Forsaken running around utterly destroying belief and trust in the Immortals in favor of the science they could master instead.

If Forsaken were truly restricted to those who came from the other world, which might well be a variant Earth, then at the very least they would be wildly sought-after guards, bodyguards, elite assassins, and wizard-killers.

Could there even be a Void among them? I had to wonder. I had to…

To…