The morning after the spider attack, I was, admittedly, grouchy. Despite two projects moving forward, my heart wasn’t in them. I was considering the implications of the assassination attempt last night.

Of the two breakthroughs, I had achieved the first in ascertaining the correct measurement of mana to infuse into the Asrid Flowers. It had moved to the second stage, which meant that now I had set up several plants to determine the length of time it took for infusion to result in monsterization.

The spider egg I held near my tower crystal had hatched. The baby spider looked nearly transparent with a pale white shell, but I knew that the coloration wouldn’t last long. I set out several different pieces of meat from the larder and a dead snake from the experiment pits to see what it preferred to eat before sealing the room in even more protective magics.

I had spent most of the morning with the spider and the flowers while I considered the assassination attempt that involved risking an entire village of people. This was not acceptable to me for many reasons, none less than the continued intent to take my life. Putting an entire village at risk was close behind that.

I had originally considered that it was one of the many noble houses within Sena that had found some new or old slight. I also considered it may have been one of the other Academies, seeking vengeance for my influence on the Arcanum. I even considered, however unlikely, that it was from other staff in the Arcanum.

Those options were all available before this attack. Naturally, those had all existed when I lived in Sena City as well, so I shrugged them away as the price of my station. That and a whole host of defensive magics that protected me while I was there. Now, though, I was forced to consider other options. Options like these assassins being directed from another country.

With war now declared, should Mirktal want me dead they wouldn’t hesitate to risk villagers in the aftermath. If the country had targeted me, that also meant that other powerful figures throughout Sena would also be facing similar attacks.

While I could send missives to confirm if this were true, I wasn’t entirely sure it was worth my time. The attack, while despicable in the manner it was conducted, wasn’t truly a threat to me. If the country aimed at others in similar positions to me, then I’d likely hear about it in the near future as those types of rumors spread quickly.

Unfortunately, even these thoughts and experiments were interrupted. Four Furing scouts, all women, had been captured last night. My water elemental had been off hunting lampreys instead of defending my lands, a matter I dealt with on its return. My mist elementals, however, had confused and led these scouts into pit traps that Kine had directed constructed.

Trapped in pits and unconscious due to a sleep enchantment in them, they had been transferred to my tower by Eni and Tond. The two men were not enamored with the task, but I hoped to settle the matter before they had to carry it out again.

Furing was a matriarchal nation situated to the north of Mirktal. They forced their men, and any other men they captured, to fight in arena battles for breeding rights. It led to a robust people, taller and more well-muscled than other nations. That they were often less intelligent was likely the only reason the other four nations still existed.

The three women sleeping in my laboratory were captured slaves that Mirktal controlled with enchanted slave collars. Fifty years ago, I had been tasked with finding the spellcraft to dispel this magic, and had done so successfully. When the wands that dispelled the enchantments were introduced to that war, it led to Sena’s victorious defense.

Of the four women, the fourth collared woman had promptly bashed her head into a wall until she was dead when I woke her from her magical slumber. As much as I disliked the occurrence, I also disliked that it meant that I had to put aside my current research to study and dispel the new versions of the slave collars before the three remaining women starved to death.

It was a task I was more than prepared to do after lunch. With a sigh and a glance at the women, I left my laboratory to enjoy a bowl of fish chowder served with a hard, sweet biscuit. Kine joined me for lunch, though his manner indicated he did so more because he had something he wanted to discuss than because of the meal.

I waited until his foot was tapping on the floor before I even glanced his way and spoke, “Is something the matter?”

He answered with a tight, contained smile that told me he knew exactly what I had done, but he sighed and spoke, “Master, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” I asked innocently as I dipped my biscuit into the chowder. I think that was what the biscuit was designed for, as I knew that Chelsea could bake softer biscuits.

“This. Be an Alderman. Twelve people died last night, and I was responsible for them. Many more would have died if you hadn’t helped, but that does nothing when I have to look at their widows and children.”

I stopped eating and looked at Kine more carefully now. His face looked worn and weathered. Rings under his eyes spoke of little or no sleep. His robe was stained with blood and mud. Even his hands were caked with dirt. I don’t think I had ever seen him more exhausted.

“You are tired and weary, yes?” I asked.

“Beyond weary. I am ready to give up. Being the one everyone turns to—it’s not for men like me,” he sighed and leaned forward onto the table.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Tond enter the room from the stairwell, look at the two of us, and then quietly step back out. I’d have to talk with him later about his cowardice. For now, I needed to address the weight on Kine’s shoulders.

“If not you, then who?” I asked.

“Someone. Anyone would do better than me. Twelve dead, and I could do nothing.”

I understood how he felt. There were times during war when those under my command perished and I felt solely responsible. It wasn’t an emotion based on logic. Logically, Mirktallean forces killed them. Emotionally, my decisions did. It was a feeling of base helplessness and a weight that threatened to crush one’s soul combined.

What could I say? That he wasn’t at fault? He already knew that. He couldn’t have stopped the mother spider even if the creature were by itself. He wasn’t strong enough. That it was my fault and this was a distraction to kill me? That would be as if I told him the lives of those villagers were worthless. That it was happenstance? That these things happen?

No, those answers wouldn’t help because answers wouldn’t help. This wasn’t a problem that could be solved with words or magic. But magic could help some. I placed a hand on his shoulder, patting it at first, and then leaving my hand there until he looked at me. He wouldn’t be able to tell, but I was working my way quietly around his magical defenses.

“Kine,” I spoke softly and seriously.

“Master?” he asked with his head tilted down but his eyes looking at me.

“Sleep,” I cast and held him up so he wouldn’t fall in his soup. It was an awkward position because he weighed more than I suspected and I was leaning over the table from my side. I strained to hold him upright.

“Tond?” I called the coward.

“Sir?” Tond said, stepping slowly into the room.

“Carry Alderman Kine to his chambers to rest. If he’s asked for, let them know he over-extended his magic last evening and is now paying the price for defending their lives,” I ordered. The villagers might not like it, but it would be better to have their Alderman in a more functional state.

“Yes, sir!” Tond saluted and then cringed at his own volume. When Kine didn’t wake, he moved his head under an arm to lift the man and carry him away.

I didn’t bother with the rest of lunch. I was no longer hungry. The disheartened feelings from having lost comrades had risen to sympathize with Kine’s plight and I was busy trying to place the morose memories back into their barrel.

The next two days, I spent diligently working on dispelling the enchanted collars. The spell I cast on Kine was only temporary and not a solid enchantment like what these three women were under. He would wake like normal, but feel well-rested, even if he wasn’t happy.

I had erred with one woman, the spell disabling the collar but missing a hidden enchantment that caused her collar to shrink and suffocate her. It was some kind of sympathetic link between the control spellcraft and another spellform likely used for training.

Her loss, like the first woman’s death, was unfortunate. I spent hours going over my notes and re-analyzing my disenchantment to find the error, but there was nothing for it. I had found four hidden contingency spells other than that one. There had been only two on the collars I had analyzed in the past.

I spent hours more checking to see if there was a sixth, but couldn’t find one. It was only the risk of starvation that pushed my hand to find an answer, and I hesitantly tested the next version of my disenchantment. When the collar clicked off, I whooped excitedly and called for Chelsea to prepare two bowls of light soup and bread before disenchanting the last woman.

I destroyed all four collars in bitter anger. The destructive magic was a cathartic release from the sense of guilt I had held in, one I needed to expunge before the ladies awakened.

The first, an attractive woman with dark hair and a sharp chin, bellowed in laughter and exclaimed, “I’m free! I’m free! This isn’t a dream!”

The other, a tad shorter woman with dull eyes and thick lips crawled into a corner and held her knees to her chest in panic. “No, no. What have you done? They’ll catch me. Catch me. When they catch me, they will make me suffer. No. No.”

I watched her carefully before sliding their food into their cells, ensuring the second woman wouldn’t bash her head into a wall as well. After I ensured they ate, I made an exhausted retreat to my bed to sleep for the first time in three days. I felt my success warranted that much.