Void's Tale by Christopher Nuttall (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

hard.  I’d seen magicians doing all kinds of horrific things for power, performing rites that would make necromancers blanch, and yet ... Chuter had been particularly disgusting.  I wanted to find a lake and swim in it, to tear off my clothes and scrub myself raw ... to go through the memories with a fine-toothed comb and remove any that weren’t strictly connected to my mission.  I understood magicians who did horrible things for power, but doing horrible things because one enjoyed them ...

My stomach churned.  I stood, commanded the roots to let Chuter go and searched him roughly before removing his cloak.  His master had given him a keystone, as well as a charm linked to his blood.  There was something oddly amateurish about it, as if whoever had cast the charm hadn’t really known what he was doing.  It hadn’t been Chuter.  I donned his cloak, took a sample of blood to activate the charm and then stared down at his body.  He’d been a vile monster.  He deserved worse.  Far worse.

I blasted the body.  Fragments of flesh flew in all directions.  The local wildlife would take care of them, I was sure.  It wasn’t a particularly respectful burial, but Chuter didn’t deserve one.  What he deserved ... I shook my head as I turned and started to walk.  The memories showed me where to go.  I could be there in an hour, perhaps quicker.  Chuter had probably had a horse, hidden somewhere nearby.  I didn’t think he’d had the raw power to teleport or the stamina to walk so far before sunrise.

The trees seemed to close on me as I kept walking, silently comparing the memories to the maps I’d seen before setting out on the mission.  The fort had been disused for decades, ever since the pass it guarded had collapsed and become impassable.  Yolanda’s monarch hadn’t seen any point in keeping it manned, not when there was no way an army could get through the mountains and hit the kingdom from the rear.  And yet ... something had clearly reopened the fort and done it without being detected.  I was starting to have a very bad feeling about the whole affair.  The fort was quite some distance off the beaten track, but it wasn’t that far from the city. It shouldn’t be possible to reopen the fort without being detected.

A dark wizard could have moved into the abandoned fortress and turned it into his lair, I told myself.  And the kingdom could have been trying to ignore him in a bid to save face ...

It was possible, I thought, but unlikely.  The king could have asked for help from the White Council.  They might have sent me to kick the squatter out.   Unless ... a nasty suspicion was starting to grow in my mind.  It wouldn’t be the first time a king - or a minor noble - had turned a blind eye to a magician’s less savoury actions, in exchange for the magician helping to defend the town.  I knew at least four towns in the heartlands that had offered themselves to various powerful sorcerers, preferring their presence to their more distant monarchs.  And if this sorcerer had been kidnapping people from the town ...

The guard didn’t seem to be trying to search for the kidnapper, I thought.  They were just concerned with putting on a good show.

The fort came into view as I reached the top of the ancient road.  It was larger than I’d expected; a simple blocky garrison, a walled courtyard and a gatehouse that had clearly been refurbished in the years since the fort had been abandoned.  A pair of statues stood outside the gatehouse, surrounded by magic.  They were so perfect - they looked like guardsmen, standing at the ready - that I was sure they were transfigured humans.  I’d seen that before, too.

I considered a handful of plans, then took on Chuter’s form and walked forward.  The wards buzzed around me, then sensed the blood-linked charm and retreated.  I smirked.  I understood the value of having guards who couldn’t think for themselves - guards could be bribed or simply overpowered, as I knew from experience - but a thinking guard might have wondered why I hadn’t brought my victims.  He might even have known Chuter by sight.  I felt the wards grow stronger as I reached the door, a combination of aversion and fear threads designed to push intruders away from the castle.  It would have deterred almost everyone, if they hadn’t been ready for it.  I slid my mind into the keystone, using it to clear my way.  The wards offered no resistance as I walked into the castle ...

Two guards stood, just inside.  They were human, yet ... there was something odd about them.  I thought they were enchanted slaves at first, but there were no charmed collars around their necks.  They were just inhumanly still.  Their eyes flickered at me, then looked away.  I didn’t see any hint of independent thought in their eyes.  What were they?

Hurry, I told myself.  The wards were so heavy it was hard to sense anything, beyond a blurred haze.  The designer seemed to have simply crafted an endless stream of wards until they were actively interfering with each other.  Chuter will be expected somewhere.  Where?

The memories suggested I was wanted in the office on the uppermost floor.  I kept walking, feeling the walls starting to close in.  There was no light in the corridors.  My night vision spell kept flickering, as if the wards were interfering with it too.  Whoever had designed the defences was either an idiot or a genius or both.  I’d met a few brilliant spellcasters who’d been completely stupid, when it came to interpersonal relationships.  It was hard to believe my aunt had been so idiotic as to marry so poorly ...

A door loomed in front of me.  I peered through ...

...