The Cunning Man, page 1
Table of Contents
The Cunning Man
Cover Blurb
Author’s Note
Prologue I
Prologue II
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
End of Book One | Adam and Lilith Will Return In: | The Infused Man | Coming Soon.
Afterword
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Appendix: The Schooled in Magic Story So Far (Up to Little Witches)
Appendix: The Heart’s Eye University
Appendix: The Levellers
The Cunning Man
(A Schooled in Magic Spin-Off)
Book I of III
Christopher G. Nuttall
http://www.chrishanger.net
http://chrishanger.wordpress.com/
http://www.facebook.com/ChristopherGNuttall
https://mewe.com/page/5cd32005dc9f631c9973f058
Cover by Brad Fraunfelter
www.BFillustration.com
All Comments and Reviews Welcome!
Cover Blurb
Adam of Beneficence wanted to be a magician, and even undertook a magical apprenticeship, but there isn’t a single spark of magic in his entire body. In desperation, his master arranged for him to study at Heart’s Eye University, a former school of magic that has become a university, a place where magicians and mundanes can work to combine their talents and forge the future together.
But all is not well at Heart’s Eye. The magical and mundane apprentices resent and fear each other, the teaching staff is unsure how to shape the university and, outside, powerful forces are gathering to snuff out the future before it can take shape. As Adam starts his new apprenticeship, and stumbles across a secret that could reshape the world, he finds himself drawn into a deadly plot that could destroy the university ...
... And leave Lady Emily’s legacy in flaming ruins.
Author’s Note
This book runs roughly parallel to Little Witches (Schooled in Magic 21) and, although it is stand-alone, draws on elements mentioned in earlier books, specifically The Sergeant’s Apprentice and Mirror Image.
I have attached a short spoiler-heavy recap of the overall series, up to Book 20, at the back of this book.
CGN.
Prologue I
Background: The following is a transcript of a speech given by Lady Emily, Founder of Heart’s Eye University, when the university accepted its first influx of students. It was warmly received by the newcomers, then transcribed and distributed shortly afterwards by the Heart’s Eye Press. Copies of the speech were, naturally, banned in many kingdoms. This did not, of course, stop bootleg copies being found everywhere.
***
I said: I want to build a university.
They said: What’s a university?
It was a hard question to answer. The concept of universal education is very rare, even in the magical community. Few masters have the experience and inclination to cover all the branches of magic; few apprentices, eager to make complete their apprenticeships and make a name for themselves, are willing to spend years, perhaps, studying all the different aspects of magic and learning how they work together. I was fortunate that my master was willing to do so, allowing me to develop my magic in ways other masters would regard as frivolous at best and wasteful at worst. Other apprentices, sad to say, were denied even the option of broadening their field of study. This has produced a sizable number of alchemists, enchanters and charmsmiths, to list only the most popular apprenticeships, but very few magicians who are prepared to spend their time researching fields of magic that do not either provide immediate results or the possibility of sizable rewards. Magical theory has advanced, as has the practical application of magic. We know far more than Lord Whitehall and his peers. But there is still much more to learn.
The problem is even worse in the non-magical communities. The concept of scientific research and technological development, first devised by me and improved by my sucessors, is still relatively new. It is difficult to convince someone to spend their lives, again, working on concepts that may never produce something worth the effort. They must be funded and those who provide the funding demand results, results that can only be measured in something practical. Guns, for example, or steam engines. It is no coincidence that kingdoms, cities and independent communities offer huge rewards for gunsmiths and engineers who design and produce newer and better guns and steam engines. They have immediate practical value. But again, there is still so much more to learn.
And the only way we can learn is by standing on the shoulders of those who have gone before.
This is a persistent issue in both communities. The creators of newer and better ways to do things, from crafting a ward to forging a sword, want to benefit from their own research and experimentation. They rarely share their work with anyone else, resulting in magicians and mundanes wasting much of their time either reverse-engineering someone else’s work or simply spying on them in hopes of ferreting out their secrets. This, in turn, forces the creator to hide their secrets, wasting even more time. And yet, the original innovator may not be the one who develops the innovation to its fullest potential. His successor may be the one who takes the original idea and makes it better.
Eight years ago, I designed the very first abacus, the very first steam engine and the very first printing press. They were produced to wild applause. They changed the world. Now, they’re in the museum. People point and laugh at my designs and wonder what I was thinking, when I drew them out and hired craftsmen to turn them into reality. Of course they do.
You see, craftsmen - other craftsmen - looked at my designs and said, ‘I can do better.’ And they did. And now their work is in the museum too, because the next generation of craftsmen looked at their work said, ‘I can do better, too.’ And so on and so on, each successive generation improving upon the work of the previous generation, each generation inspiring the next to do better. And that is how it has worked since time out of mind. The man who first learnt to work metal was rapidly superseded by the men who took his original idea and improved upon it. The man who first carved a wheel, who built a sailing ship, who came up with one of a million bright ideas, launched generations of better and better ideas that can be traced all the way back to the first spark, to the man who showed it could be done.
The university motto is in two parts. First, we stand on the shoulders of giants. Those men, the original innovators, are the giants. Without them, we would not exist. Second, and in doing so, we become giants ourselves. Our improvements upon the original innovations lay the groundwork for the improvers and innovators who will follow in our footsteps and carry our work to levels we cannot even begin to imagine. And the university exists to facilitate innovation, improvement and practical development. You and your fellows will share your ideas and innovations and bounce off each other to blaze a path into the future, a future that is bright and full of promise ... a future that can be ours, if we reach out and take it.
It is easy to say - many will - that we are merely providing free food and drink to people who will produce nothing. Or that we are giving away knowledge - magical and mundane alike - to people who will misuse it, or take it away, improve upon it, and try to claim credit for it. They may have a point. We will not be looking for solid, measurable progress. But we will ensure that those who do make progress, in theory as well as practical application of said theories, will be rewarded. It is our feeling - my feeling - that creating a melting pot of ideas and knowledge is worth the cost.
There will be missteps, of course. There will be bad ideas. There will be ideas that look good but aren’t. There will be impractical ideas; there will be ideas that will be impractical now but may become practical later. These ideas will all be tested, without fear of failure or condemnation, to see which are right and which are wrong. We will never seek to destroy the spirit of free thought and innovation through stomping on ideas. Instead, we will question and test every idea and prove it valid - or not. We will have the right to speak freely - and we will also have the right to be wrong. To err is human. We will never make it impossible for someone to recover from their mistakes.
It will not be easy. There will always be the temptation to slide into an outdated mindset. It is never easy to admit that one might be wrong. Nor is it easy to see all of the little details, all of the tiny aspects of a problem that will defeat any attempt to solve it from a distance. There will be those who will focus on the whole and miss the tiny details and those who will allow the tiny details to dominate their minds, so they lose track of the whole. The only way to avoid disaster is to allow questioning, to allow people to put forward challenges, yet the urge to silence them will be very strong. It must be quenched. Those who choose to silence, no matter the provocation, are stepping onto a slippery slope that leads all the way to hell itself.
The university exists under the rule of law. The rules will not change, no matter who you are. The administrators don’t care if you’re the heir to a throne or if you were born in a pigsty, if you have magic or not. You will have the right to have your say, to engage in debate and carry out experiments to tease out the truth. You will not have the right to have your words accepted without question. You can talk freely, but no one will be forced to listen and agree. There will be no formal punishment for speaking your mind. You will never be forbidden to speak or, in any way, express your ideas. No one else, however, has to listen. You will have to put your ideas together, and present them, and - if necessary - defend them.
A good idea will stand the test of time. A bad idea will not.
Technology promises to solve all our problems. And it will. But, in doing so, it will create new problems. There will be those who will say that the new problems are worse than the old, that we should turn back before it is too late ... but it is already too late. The new problems will be solved in their turn, as will the problems that will come in the wake of those solutions. We can, and we must, embrace the future. And, to do this, we must learn from our mistakes. We cannot do that if admitting our mistakes, let alone learning from them, costs more than we can afford to pay.
You will not find it easy. Many of you come from societies that do not embrace the concept of reasoned debate, let alone freedom of speech. Others will allow the concept to overwhelm them, to engage in speech without thinking, to push the limits without any purpose beyond shocking and scandalising society. But you would not be here, listening to me, if you were not at least prepared to try.
The future is within our grasp. All we have to do is reach out and take it.
Prologue II
“You’re a hard man to find, Master Lance.”
Lance looked up, thoughtfully, as the older man slid into a chair facing him. The message had surprised him, although - in hindsight - he supposed it shouldn’t have. Sir Xavier, Lord of the Black Daggers, the man who’d served King Randor from the shadows until the king’s collapse into madness and necromancy ... if there was anyone in Alexis who’d know about his presence, it was Sir Xavier. And yet, Lance was surprised Sir Xavier had dared show his face. Queen Alassa had never formally granted him the kiss of peace. The smart money suggested Sir Xavier would lose his head the moment he fell into the queen’s hands. He knew too much.
“I like it that way,” Lance said, curtly. He signalled the server for wine, then sat back in his chair. “How did you find me?”
“I have sources within the community,” Sir Xavier told him. “And one of them was kind enough to point you out.”
“Sources,” Lance repeated. “Am I to assume they’re not working for Her Most Splendid Majesty?”
Sir Xavier’s lips tightened, but he said nothing until the server had been and gone. Lance smiled as he lifted the wine to his lips and drank. The older man had once been a man of wealth and power, one of the few people King Randor trusted to any degree. It must sting to lose his position practically overnight. The mere fact Sir Xavier hadn’t left the city suggested he hoped he could worm his way into the queen’s good graces, although Lance suspected Sir Xavier was wasting his time. The queen was unlikely to trust anyone who hadn’t switched sides the moment her father’s necromancy became apparent. Sir Xavier had stayed at his post, rather than desert his monarch, until it was too late.
“I have a job for you,” Sir Xavier said. “I’m prepared to pay in gold.”
Lance raised an eyebrow. “And who are your patrons?”
“They wish to remain unidentified,” Sir Xavier said. “You will respect their feelings on the matter.”
“I see.” Lance kept his expression bland, but behind his mask his mind was racing. Sir Xavier wasn’t working for the queen or he would have offered land and royal appointments, rather than gold and gold alone. That meant ... what? Did Sir Xavier think he could use the mission, whatever it was, to convince the queen to return him to his old post? Or was he working for someone else? “And what do they want me to do?”
“Heart’s Eye,” Sir Xavier said. “Lady Emily’s university” - he stumbled over the odd word - “is up and running. It is currently accepting students from all over the known world.”
“Interesting,” Lance said, as if he’d never heard of the university. He had. He’d even considered going himself, when he’d first heard the news. Only the fact that his style of magic demanded horrible things had kept him from packing up what few possessions he wanted to keep and heading to Heart’s Eye himself. “I heard a rumour Lady Emily had lost her powers.”
Sir Xavier shook his head. “The rumour was brutally quashed nearly a year ago,” he said. “Right now, Lady Emily is in the Blighted Lands. And will probably be there for quite some time.”
Lance nodded. “So she’s out of the way,” he said. “What do you want me to do?”
“The university must be discredited, or destroyed,” Sir Xavier said. “My patrons hired me to do the job. I have chosen you as my agent.”
“How ... wise ... of you,” Lance said. “I do trust you’ve taken care to ensure your patrons won’t cut all ties and leave you holding the bag?”
He ignored the older man’s scowl. Queen Alassa could not be Sir Xavier’s patron. She was as close to Lady Emily as it was possible to be. And that meant ... who? A magical patriarch? Or another king? There was no shortage of possible suspects, men - and a handful of women - who’d be happy to accept Sir Xavier as their servant if they could bring themselves to trust him. Or to use him as a cat’s paw.
“It won’t be easy,” he said, finally. “How much support can your patrons give me? Give us?”
“Gold, and little more,” Sir Xavier told him. “They do not want to show their hand openly.”
“Of course not.” Lance allowed himself a grin. The magical patriarchs - and their mundane counterparts - were all too aware that Lady Emily, a young woman barely out of her teens, had killed necromancers. They were afraid of her and hated it. They’d probably be happier if Lady Emily’s father had terrified them instead. At least he was old enough to be a respectable tyrant. “They want to keep their hands clean, while we get ours dirty.”
“Your hands are already unclean,” Sir Xavier reminded him, sardonically. “Or have you forgotten why you were kicked out of Mountaintop?”
“I forget nothing,” Lance said. He swallowed his anger with an effort. “I’ll need gold for supplies and bribes, as well as payment. Putting together a cover story won’t be easy without outside support.”
“You’ll have it,” Sir Xavier said. “You’ll have enough money to get whatever you want, as long as the mission is completed before the university is firmly established.”
Lance nodded. It wouldn’t be easy. He was a skilled and powerful magician, with a gift for magic even Mountaintop considered dark and dangerous, but the university had a nexus point. It would be difficult to destroy even if Lady Emily was on the far side of the Craggy Mountains. He’d have to go there, establish a cover story - perhaps as a magical apprentice - and figure out a way to turn the university upside down. He could do it and then ... his lips curved into a grim smile. The gold Sir Xavier promised would fund a lot of experiments. He’d just have to make sure Sir Xavier didn’t have a chance to kill him, after the mission was completed, in hope of covering his tracks. His patrons would certainly let Sir Xavier keep the gold if he eliminated the need to pay Lance.
