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Harvest - 3
🕑 Added 2023-03-19 10:00:03 +0000 UTC"Make way! Make way!" Sergeant Fallan bellowed, ushering carts and common folk out of the way as we crossed the Wolfsbridge. "Make way for the witches! Yes you, you sorry lout!"
It was somewhat amusing watching the sergeant work, almost surreal in some ways as he bellowed at people and shoved them out of the way. Like we were a procession of nobles, rather than largely unkempt witches in varying garb. It also said a lot that the others were talking amicably, even snatching a few words here and there with the soldiers.
In the few days since we had met them, heading up to the main crossing just east of Gilneas City, the soldiers had largely won the witches over. They had stayed polite and deferential for the most part, like they acted around me, and generally just maintained a healthy respect for what we could do. I could tell Mathis was getting a kick out of being called Lady Mathis all the time and had taken to bossing some of the men around. Nothing excessive, she was entirely correct when she said she was old and it wasn't right for all these strapping young lads to leave her to set up her own tent for the evening.
"King Greymane won't be happy to hear you're delaying his guests! Now get out of the way, you idjits, you're blocking the bridge! So make bloody way!"
As we finally made it across, it was easy enough to see why the Wolfsbridge had been so crowded with slow-moving traffic. Set out atop a hill between a number of farms was a large tent, surrounded by dozens upon dozens of others. Atop it flew the flag of Gilneas and the Greymanes, with more pennants than I could count fluttering elsewhere in the fields.
With the gathering of the king and much of his nobility there were hundreds of people making their way to the ground, expecting either some kind of spectacle – which I supposed there would be – or a place to make some coin.
I steeled myself against the nerves I felt. This had always been going to happen, and of everyone I was the best prepared for it. Aderic and Heather could head south for the Duskmist Plains, Celestine handling the Hailmarsh and Headlands, while Joseline led others back east into the Ember Hills. Me, I had to handle the king.
There was a reason not many witches had wanted to go northward with me.
"You've nothing to worry about," Vivi whispered, taking my hand and running her thumb over it. "Look, Lorna's already here. Darius must be too." She pointed, and true enough, the telltale lope of a gryphon as Lorna rode Donovan towards us beside a pair of horses was unmistakable. "You can manage as well as I, Gwen." Vivi put on a more formal tone. "And with Lord Crowley here as your sponsor you have nought to fear."
Trix slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle at the uncharacteristic way of speaking.
"Thanks," I smiled at her. "I know I can." Though, whether I could hold my temper if Genn bloody Greymane decided to pull a Genn was another question.
Soon enough Lorna, Darius, and Howard caught up to us, though Darius merely nodded politely to me as he moved to speak to the sergeant. Lorna, on the other hand, caught sight of my and Vivi's connected hands and raised an eyebrow as she grew an extraordinarily wide grin.
"Sister, it has been too long. How fare you?" Howard asked, striding forward to embrace Vivi and pat her on the back. "Nothing untoward occurred, I hope? Lorna has been telling stories of what this Mingling was, and I fear you might've–"
"And what if I did?" Vivi said defiantly for a moment, her hand clutching at mine.
He froze, flummoxed by her declaration, but quickly regained his stride. "Then I shall find the one that did so and see them ended, witch or not."
"Howard," Lorna said with amusement, "I rather get the feeling she would end you. Don't go antagonising our witch, she has thorns and... what did you call them, Gwen?"
"Laser beams," I mumbled awkwardly. I may have gotten carried away when I first showed off my astral lances to Vivi and Lorna.
If Lorna's grin could've gotten wider, it would've. "Ah, yes, the 'orbital laser beams of doom.' While a bit too grandiose of a name they were still potent, Howard. I don't recommend giving her reason to aim them at you."
Howard's eyes tracked to me, then down my arm to where I was still holding Vivi's hand. "You–" He looked at me aghast, recoiling away, then snapped his attention to Vivi. "You– Vivianne Alliana Mistmantle! You have to know what mother would say, how she would feel!"
I felt Vivi wince, tensing and shrinking in on herself.
"Her mother is–" I started.
"Irrelevant." Came Darius' interrupting baritone. "Isobel Mistmantle has no bearing here. Howard, Vivianne has my confidence as my witch's guard and as my representative to the witches. You are not to interfere in her work. See to the accommodation of Sergeant Fallan and his men."
There was a brief moment of silence before Howard bowed formally. "As you wish, Lord Crowley." He turned and marched away with a scowl on his face.
Darius glanced between me and Vivi with a frown and I stared back up at him defiantly. I was glad he defended Vivi, but if he was going to state his disapproval I wasn't going to let it stand; ally or not Vivi was mine now. Keepers, that felt good to think. My Vivi.
He gestured for us to follow, to move away from the crowd, and feeling a little trepidation I followed. As soon as we were out of easy earshot of the onlookers and other witches he spoke.
"How fared the meeting? How many objectives were met?" He asked.
"Ah–" that was not what I had expected him to ask.
Fortunately Vivi was quicker to shake off her surprise and explain; defining for him the Order of Amber and the formalisation of Celestine's leadership as the Speaker of Ravens, along with the other efforts we had gone through in preparing for our work. Namely the rain-calling ritual. I chimed in where appropriate, though I revealed nothing of Lord Renard, nor the spiritual and magical significance of our amber badges of office.
And if I omitted what happened to me, then all the better. It was settled and I had no desire to think about it more than my mind forced me to.
"Good." Darius stated as we finished. "Though I can tell you are leaving out a certain part at this time, I will not begrudge you your private lives." He nodded gently. "I wish you well... though," He smiled, his one eye crinkling with amusement, "I do ask that you not make my daughter an outsider as you look to one another. She treasures her friends, as you must know."
"Father!" Lorna protested loudly, having to take a brief moment to compose herself. "I am happy for you two. Really." She smiled.
"There are other matters, ones I believe are private for Gwyneth's ears alone." Darius said, turning his gaze to Vivi. "I will return her to you shortly, Vivianne."
"Understood, Lord Crowley." Vivi said, repressing a sigh. "C'mon Lorna, you've got to meet Tricks; Gwen picked up a little fox and she's adorable."
Darius waited until the two girls were a good distance away before speaking again. "An Archmage of Dalaran arrived in Gilneas while you were travelling to the Blackwald." He said bluntly. "One Archmage Modera, of whom you have spoken before."
My hands clenched and I forced myself to bite my tongue. Of all the possible things I had thought he might say, that was not on the list. Modera, the sodding bitch who threw me out of Dalaran had the gall to come looking for me now?! "It's too bloody late!" I snapped, regretting it the instant it came out. "Too bloody late. Even if she found me, even if we talked, what would it matter? Arthas is gone, the plague has spread. And she decided to come looking. Of course she did, not someone who hadn't–"
I cut off my rant, my chest heaving as I took in sharp breaths. Dalaran still burned at me. Even if I had been getting ready to leave the feeling of betrayal from having been thrown out, from being expelled and banished from the City of Magic.
One day I would get a chance to rub it in their faces that they should have listened. Some of their faces, because most of them would be dead.
Keepers, I hoped Goldensword, Corrinth, and Finall were going to be okay. I hoped they listened and got the hell away from Dalaran before Arthas got there. I didn't want my friends to die.
"I did not meet her personally, the report from the wall reached me after you had departed." Darius said, acting as if my outburst had never happened. "She was seen in Keel Harbour and the capital, where she spoke to the king. Whatever she might have found, it did not lead her to your abode."
"Small mercies," I bit out, then forced myself to unclench. "My apologies, Lord Crowley."
"None are necessary. I understand the anger that comes from not being listened to." He looked towards the royal flag atop the hill with a deep frown, then shook his head. "Are you prepared enough for your demonstration? The expectations are quite high, Godfrey is being insufferable and implying you will not be able to handle the designated farms in a single casting."
Thankful for the change in topic, I grinned. "Well, unless they've designated everything from here to the River Frey, I think we'll be fine." The last few days of larger-scale efforts had shown that we could do a lot at once when pressed. "Oh, and you will want umbrellas."
Darius slowly raised his eyebrow. "I see." He said, smiling grimly. "I am sure Godfrey will be... pleasantly surprised."
-oOoOo-
After a flurry of greetings and introductions, meeting a great number of notable figures who I was going to have a hard time remembering after such short encounters, the song and dance of courtly politics was over with and it was time to greet the king before our demonstration. We had been delayed by the irritating, if understandable, rule that the king waits for no man, men – and women – wait for the king.
Keeping everyone from panicking had taken work on my and Darius' part. Rachel still had a deathgrip and Mathis had been sketching runes, that I could feel emanating magic, into the dirt with her toes.
"So, you are Gwyneth Arevin." King Greymane said, his greying moustache twitching faintly as he examined me with his steel grey eyes. "From the rumours I had thought you would be older. Or perhaps there is magic at work in your appearance?"
At his words, I felt the tension behind me ratchet up a level. Keepers, if these were the ones who had volunteered to take part in the meeting with the king how skittish would everyone else have been?
Not that it was just the king. Flanking him on his right was the Queen, Mia Greymane, and on his right was Archbishop Tulvan. I had half expected Archmage Arugal to be present to offer magical advice, but the bishop appeared to be fulfilling that role instead. Also present, albeit further back, was Lord Godfrey. That the man was somehow still in the king's good graces irritated me.
His actions might've helped by letting Darius extort control of the gate away from him, but he still bloody trashed my house, the complete and utter pillock.
"Some, Your Majesty." I said with a curtsy, keeping my eyes away from the prick of a noble. Trix nervously tried to emulate me, but a few days of showing her how didn't stand up well under pressure. "Though it has little to do with my youth, this is my seventeenth summer."
Darius hummed lightly. "In discussion with one of the witch's speakers, their matriarch, we decided that as they were unused to the manners of nobility; Gwyneth would serve better. She has befriended my daughter and has taken lessons alongside her."
I noted Darius overstating Celestine's importance at the time and ignored it. It was close enough anyway, Old Grims was already going to pass the torch to her by that point.
Beside the king, Queen Mia smiled softly. "Well, I can find no fault in her manners thus far. But we are here for a reason; for many a year I have sponsored poor houses, for those who have suffered in our defence or were orphaned by war." She looked out over the dry fields surrounding the capital. "While I cannot truly understand the troubles of the peasantry, I am aware of them. To allow them to suffer needlessly would make of me a woeful excuse for a queen." The Queen turned back to me with a piercing gaze, steel in her eyes as her lips turned down. "I do pray, Light willing, that you and your... kin do not offer false hope."
Trix squeaked and I put a comforting hand on her shoulder. I could feel the tension behind me, as the other witches looked about nervously. Even with Sergeant Fallan's men standing as a form of escort we were surrounded by nobility, priests, and soldiers. The Royal guard watched impassively.
Still, I felt little concern. Barring the work of a fanatic this wouldn't come to blows, and the priests here had been amicable enough; even if the archbishop had been a little too calculating for my tastes.
"I swear upon the Watchers of Old, upon the Fox and the Raven, and upon the Light that we do not offer false hope, Your Majesty." I said confidently, meeting her eyes without hesitation. "We were unfortunately delayed in our arrival today doing good work during our travels. From here to the edge of the Blackwald the fields are green and healthy, watered with rain we conjured."
"And we all helped!" Trix blurted nervously, drawing attention to herself. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as she slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening almost comically, and hid behind me. "I, uh, I made it rain this morning. Like Gwen taught me. Your, um, majesty."
For a moment I thought I saw a flash of amusement in the king's eyes, but if it happened at all he resumed a facade of stoicism in an instant.
"The rains on the horizon?" Queen Mia said thoughtfully. "If so, then you have my thanks..."
"Patricia Fletcher," I introduced her, "more commonly known as Trix. My apprentice."
"Then you have my thanks, Patricia." The Queen smiled kindly at Trix, who tightened her grip on my clothes to the point I could practically hear her blushing. "And, on behalf of the crown, I forgive your tardiness. To be delayed in the service of Gilneas is a noble enough reason."
King Greymane shot his wife a disgruntled look before nodding. "But now there is little reason to delay any longer. Many Gilneans have come to witness this historical event and we shall not keep them waiting. Go, with the blessing of the crown, to enact your magics upon the land."
"And the blessing of the Light also." Archbishop Adam nodded. "It brings me great sadness that we, of the Church of Dawn, could not perform this task, but we welcome those that serve in the grace of the Light. Let it be known to all that the imposition forced upon us by Lordaeron in centuries past is no longer part of Dawn of Law, and they are as welcome here as the mages of Dalaran."
While there were interesting implications to what the Archbishop just said, it also hurt a little. It wasn't as if the mages of Dalaran were considered particularly welcome by most. Nor did I like the way they were pushing off all responsibility for what happened to us onto Lordaeron.
Not that I could much more than ignore it. "Thank you, King Greymane." I said, giving him another curtsy and taking a deep breath before saying the controversial part. "Though we would have acted to aid the people of Gilneas, as we did in ages past amongst the tribes of ancient Gilneas, without your blessing, we welcome it and swear to do what is best for Gilneas and her people." Even if that was not what was best for you, I left unsaid and unheard.
The King, Genn, narrowed his eyes at me but otherwise failed to express any anger over my words.
After a few moments of silence, some muttering over both my words and the Archbishop's, Mia Greymane touched Genn's shoulder lightly. He nodded firmly, a dismissal, and it was time for us to work.
-oOoOo-
"Join hands." I ordered, threading out my magic to touch those around me. For all the previous workings on the fields on the way here I had split off, leaving the majority of our group to one task while I and one or two others moved to take others. Here and now we needed to make one big effort. "I would say no pressure, but not only is the king watching, it seems half the country's nobility showed up too." I added with more than a little amusement.
They looked rather absurd lining up in all their finery under their parasols with pennants flying proudly above it all, in contrast to the hastily rearranged bales of hay and other various signs of farmers who had been working hard to save as much of their crop as they could with brute-force irrigation.
"Not helping," Rachel said with a strangled laugh.
Mathis huffed and shook her head. "Suck it up and focus on your magic. Don't matter any more than the last eight times, food in kids’ bellies is more important than impressing some fops. Even the one we've got with us." She snarked, shooting me a look.
I smiled and laughed. Even if I thought the nobles were overdressed, compared to my fellows I did kind of fit the bill; my preference for fine worsted wools, silks, and wearing blouses, vests, and skirts – even a corset if I felt like dressing up a bit – left me rather more fancy than my kin who wore much rougher woollen homespun dresses and tunics.
Though, unlike the nobles, my clothes were still made for working in fields and forests. Dirt-repelling and self-cleaning enchantments were a godsend.
"Follow my lead. We've a lot of ground to cover and some priests to show up." I said, dropping my amusement for seriousness. "Trix, Adrian, Mathis, we're going for a gentle rain after."
Everyone nodded their heads, hands already joined and I started. I was part of the working, the ritual, but not in the circle itself; this time I was the focal point.
Growing a simple wooden staff out of the ground, and ignoring the exclamations of surprise from the nobles, I set to drawing what Mathis had taught me the last few weeks. The runes, as symbols, didn't hold power on their own. It was their meaning, the effort, thought, and form we imparted to them as we created them that mattered.
At the very heart of the circle I carved into the soil, its edges woven and formed with tied ropes of grass, the rune for Growth. To the north, I added Freya's rune; the rune I had drawn over my heart, that I had drawn over Trix's heart. To the east, a new dawn as the rune for the sun had been lost long ago. The west was water, life-giving and healing water. And last, for the south, I drew the rune for a blessing. The rune that was spoken as Gwyneth.
One by one the witches of the circle reached out to me, tying their magic to mine, and I reached down. Through the hill, through the grasses and trees, out into the wide fields and tamed spirits; the land stirred faintly from its slumber at our touch, aching and parched from the long summer.
The interconnectedness of nature, the way every part of Life was tied to one another, from the roots of trees touching upon the grasses to the fields of grain struggling to feed one another what little they had to survive, was our guide. They were all joined, and on and on that went, until even from the hill on which we stood I couldn't see how far we reached with my eyes.
Until I felt the strain being placed on those in my circle and poured more of myself through the runes, through the spell, to take up the slack.
They were greater than me; not as individuals but as a group they made up more than the sum of their parts: The ritual amplifying what they could manage together well beyond what any of us could achieve alone.
"And grow," I said, my voice tight under the strain, "grow and flourish and nourish the land. End a famine before it has yet begun."
My eyes were still open and let me watch as a wave of magic echoed down the hill; dried and brown grass turning green and springing up once more, fields of wheat rippling like a pond as the stalks stretched towards the sky, trees blooming with a thousand flowers before they fell away and fruit took their place, and vines creeping up and trying to smother the walls of the distant capital city.
As I let go, loosening the connection, Adrian and three others fell to their knees exhausted. Mathis was leaning on her cane and Rachel was leaning on Trix for support; I grinned proudly at my apprentice who was clearly holding up better than most.
"And now," I said, flexing my shoulders and blinking away the headiness of so much magic, "for the rain."
Trix groaned openly as she moved to take my hand, but when Rachel moved to help Adrian up I shook my head. We had done far more than I expected and while he was a good wind speller he didn't have the best reserves. "We can handle it, take a rest. Both of you." I nodded to Mathis.
The old lady looked put out, but as she wobbled over her cane she nodded.
Hand in hand with Trix I started to dance, leading her through the same spell I had formed with Vivi. Wind and water, storm entwined; I would rather be dancing with her but, alas, this was a demonstration of us witches. Even if the credit for the breakthrough was as much hers as mine, we had to claim it without her.
Getting to watch as those nobles who hadn't thought to carry an umbrella or parasol dash for cover as a faint shower started was something of a salve to the frustration of politics, at least.
-oOoOo-
It was odd watching Genn as he held a head of wheat in his hand, running his thumb over it and breaking off the grains. Not quite surreal, though the dozens of nobles that had been doing so for some time – and harassing a poor put upon farmer's fields – pushed it far closer to that, as did Princess Tess running about the golden stalks with a smile on her face and laughter on her lips.
"Impressive." Genn said, crushing the head in his hand before dropping the grains. "As far as the eye can see, fields of golden grain and hearty produce."
Darius clapped a hand onto my shoulder. "My witch has a tendency of exceeding expectations, no matter the task set to her. Thousands of our countrymen who sought safety behind your wall found shelter thanks to her workings, homes grown from trees in minutes."
Genn Greymane turned his steely grey gaze towards me, his face as stoic and grim as ever, but a clear look of evaluation in his eyes. "Magic, an eminently practical magic, unlike the flights of arcane fancy Dalaran is prone to." He snorted, a disapproving frown taking over his face. "You are correct, Darius, she has thoroughly exceeded my expectations, and those of my wife. Having seen her I thought your stories of her ability exaggerations; a misunderstanding of what magic she wielded."
While it was clear Genn didn't notice it, I could tell how Darius bristled. His eye patch shifted as the brow under it furrowed, though the one uncovered above his good eye moved not an inch.
"One would hardly expect one so apparently harmless, youthful and lacking in stature, to achieve such a feat. And yet, so she has."
And now it was my turn to bristle, though as the king's frown turned on me I knew I wasn't nearly so good at hiding it as Darius had.
"Indeed she has, Your Majesty." Archbishop Tulvan said, striding up to us with his hand trailing over the stalks of wheat. Two of the other priests were with him, though I didn't remember their names. "With the aid of her fellows, of course. One cannot discount their efforts either. Now, I understand that you have worked with members of my flock in the past, one Sister Roper?" He asked politely, his tone friendly and cordial in stark contrast to the king's gruffness. I nodded, wondering which of the two options that had popped into my head he was aiming for. "Excellent." He clapped his hands together. "As you and yours are still a young group, one yet to still fully form, I wish to offer as archbishop a sponsorship–"
"No." I cut him off bluntly. "Too much bad blood lies between the church and the Witches of Gilneas that make up our order to accept such a thing. And we are not a young group; in one incarnation or another the Order of Amber, under the Speaker of Ravens and the Fox Speaker, has existed since before the Church of the Holy Light was founded."
Darius nodded his agreement. "Further, that is an overreach, Archbishop. Matters beyond the faith have not been the purview of the Church of Dawn for half a century now."
"Your proclamation that witches no longer face prosecution rang especially hollow since it was our late father, King Archibald, who outlawed witch trials." Queen Mia said with a soft shake of her head. "Curb your ambitions, Adam. They are unbecoming of you."
While the archbishop scowled one of the priests behind him looked like she was suppressing a laugh, and the king was looking at his queen fondly.
The Queen turned to him, smiling beatifically at him. Even if she wasn't the most gorgeous of women she held a regal poise to her, a presence that held strong. "Husband, while it was my suggestion to allow this, it is still your right to make the offer." She said softly.
Genn grunted and shook his head. "No, they are yours, my dear Mia."
With a nod, Queen Mia looked at me. "As Queen of Gilneas, I offer unto the Order of Amber a royal sponsorship. Official recognition and patronage, such as that which the Royal Alchemical Society holds, so that you may better serve Gilneas without concern. Funds, land, staff, all will be available to ensure a smooth transition." She smiled lightly at Darius. "I understand that Lord Crowley has taken upon himself this task for the moment, but such a burden is better borne by the crown."
"It is no great burden." Darius denied, his eye tracking to me. I looked back with understanding; the king and queen didn't want a noble to have the power of the order behind them. "And we have yet to see what form the Order of Amber takes, such patronage was rejected when I offered it to the Lady Speaker Celestine."
"Speaker of Ravens," I corrected, "and what land we need we already have. Hidden enough from those that might hunt us; though, I pray to the Watchers of Old that our secrecy shall never prove necessary again." I glanced at the archbishop. "I shall send your offer to the speakers, Your Majesty. It is not for me to decide."
"Perhaps it is too soon to speak of such things?" Archbishop Tulvan said, spreading his hands. "Even if they have existed for as long as young Gwyneth says, they have little experience in wider matters concerning the state. They–"
"No." Genn grunted, glaring at the archbishop. "At the Winter Veil ball the Order of Amber shall be celebrated for their efforts in aiding Gilneas, and gain the formal recognition agreed upon by my wife and their speakers. This is my decree."
I frowned, then raised my hand while looking up at the king.
"What?" He demanded gruffly.
"Our most sacred celebration takes place too close to that time, neither I nor the speakers shall be able to attend at Winter Veil. It is a poorly kept secret that we gather for the solstices."
For a moment, the king pondered. "Darius. Find a suitable time and inform my queen, you have the connections with the witches to do so."
"Of course, King Greymane." Darius said formally, bowing at the waist. "It will be done."
With that, Genn Greymane gave me one last – almost approving – nod before departing. I was going to enjoy getting a chance to spend time with Vivi this evening, it had been a long day.
