Chapter Four
Lord Sameth
Lord Sameth's workshop was situated in a huge building that was built on the side of the castle, specifically for this purpose. "Sam designed, instigated, oversaw, and even funded the entire construction." Informed Ellimere as Livana and I were led out the enormous front gates of the castle, and into the comparatively small door that was the entrance to Sameth's workshop. Sabriel and Touchstone were needed elsewhere in the castle, and so had departed after the meeting previously, leaving Ellimere, Lirael, and the contingent of guards to escort us. "His old workshop became too small and confined, up in the tower. He practically sleeps in the new workshop too, just like he did the old one." A faint smile came across the woman's face, and her eyes glazed over slightly, lost in the past. She snapped back to the present, and strode purposefully up to the door.
The door itself was an astounding work of artistry, craftsmanship, and Charter Magic. It was similar to the Wall, but apparently constructed of wood, rather than stone and mortar, and seemed to possess a life and intelligence of its own. Charter marks flowed on, around, and IN the woodwork, which was chiselled to perfection with twisting vines, disrupted occasionally by wooden flowers, which spread their way from the bottom left corner of the door, and stretched up and out, to each of the other corners. The ever-shifting charter marks made the vines seem to writhe and crawl over the surface of the door, creating a spine-tingling sight. The intent of the door was clear. Nothing living got past the door without the door's permission, and nothing dead got past the door, period.
Ellimere knocked on the door, three loud blows which seemed to resonate throughout the entire workshop. There was a flare of incredibly powerful Charter Magic, involving no less than seven master marks, which exploded out from the door, and engulfed the entire party, guards and all. I felt the charter mark on my head heat up, and knew that this spell would brush away the masterful disguise I had cast to conceal my corrupted mark, as if it were merely a fly in the wind. The heat in my forehead grew to a searing blaze, which happened every time somebody tested my charter mark, with false coverings or not. All the guards, Lirael, Ellimere, and Livana were undergoing the same examination, and I was suddenly fearful for Livana's and my safety. This spell was potent enough to blast us to cinders if it deemed us unworthy, which it no doubt would, as Livana was one of the Greater Dead, and I was a free magic sorcerer, and a necromancer to boot.
I prepared myself for the incendiary heat that was to turn my body to ash… but it never came. The heat in my forehead faded, and with it, the near blinding light which surrounded the whole party. I blinked, both in confusion, and to fully return my sight as the door swung inward, inviting passage into its domain. "I don't…" I began, but Lirael interrupted.
"Lord Sameth crafted this door himself. It is a work of Charter Magic that is arguably more powerful than the Wall itself. It can search a person, through their charter mark, uncorrupted or otherwise, and determine whether that person is fit to enter the workshop. Were it to deem you unfit… You can imagine what would have happened."
She walked brusquely through the doorway. I shuddered, and kept my mind from wandering in the direction of fiery punishment. After giving Livana a cursory glance, to ensure she was alright, I stepped through the portcullis. The magical wooden doorframe shivered as I passed through it, as if sensing the taint of free magic in me, but suppressing its violent and destructive reaction. The rest of the party followed through and the contingent of guards waited outside, but my attention was not on them. It was sturdily focused on the contents of the gargantuan room that opened up before me. It was an amazingly vast plethora of tools, parts, and raw materials, as well as various workspaces consisting of benches, desks, stools, shelves and miscellaneous stations for crafting or deconstructing the materials and parts that lay in a state of orderly disarray throughout the workshop.
Lord Sameth was waiting for us in front of the closest desk to the door, which was piled high with papers. He caught my glance at the desk, and spoke; "A desk of suggestions for potential inventions, improvements, or upgrades from the people. Ellimere's idea. This is just today's submissions." He grimaced, and then extended a hand. "You must be Emantek. I'm Sam." I shook his hand, and respectfully dipped my head.
"Yes, I am Emantek." I replied. "And this is my partner, Livana." As she was introduced, Livana stepped forward, and gave a neat curtsey.
"Good evening, Lord." She said, her voice neat and curt, as I had taught her. We needed to appeal to these people, so they wouldn't send our souls past the ninth gate, to the point of no return. Sam dismissed her courtesy with a slight wave.
"Please friends, no need for such formalities. This is not a place of politics; it is a place of magic, of science, and of invention." He gestured to the workshop behind him, his eyes lighting up with wonder, as if seeing the place for the first time. "I build this place to be free from the tiresome tediousness of formality in the rest of the kingdom. Where I can tinker, experiment, build, and improve to my heart's content, without interference from the troublesome ceremonialism that permeates the castle. But to matters at hand, I believe you have something that my parents would like me to inspect."
I nodded, slowly slipping the pack off my back. After undoing the clasps on the bag, I drew out my bell bandolier. Sameth visibly stiffened, and sweat appeared on his brow, before he banished it with a wipe from his sleeve, and relaxed his muscles. I nodded. It was known to me, but very few other people, that Lord Sameth, master builder, and inheritor to the Wallmaker's bloodline and legacy, was afraid of death, and everything associated to it.
I refrained from putting the bandolier on, as was my habit, but instead held it out to Sameth. "You are familiar with the seven original bells, Ranna, Mosrael, Kibeth, Dyrim, Belgaer, Saraneth and Astarael, however, I have made two new additions to my arsenal of bells. Yrael, and the Destroyer, whose name I will not speak, out of courtesy to you and your kin."
Sam nodded thanks. "It has been long since the destroyer was bound anew, however I still shudder at the memory, and the name still holds power, even here. I will endeavour not to handle the bells myself, so if you would please come this way." He turned around, and began weaving his way through the clutter, towards a small, secluded section of the workshop in the far corner, which was surrounded by a fabric curtain, which Sameth swept aside, allowing entry. This space, small as it was, was considerably tidier than the rest of the building.
"This is where I tend to all the… more serious pieces of magic. Everything in this section, including the floor, walls, ceiling and curtain, as well as all the instruments, are magically fortified against all kinds of magic. There are even enchantments in the air contained within this space, which serve to confine all magic in this one area."
I nodded. I had a similar workspace, albeit less tidy, and far less pristine, when I had made my bells. I noticed two unique contraptions that sat in the middle of the desk. It seemed that Sameth had been informed of even the finer details of my visit before we arrived at his workshop. The two items in question were bell holders. Made almost completely of charter magic, they consisted of a broad, highly adjustable ring which clamped around the outside of the bell, and a leather and magic smaller loop in the center, to hold the bell's clapper. The rest of the bell holders resembled a regular vice, and were bolted obstinately to the bench top. Sameth noticed me examining the contraptions, and nodded.
"Yes, Emantek, if you would please place your two bells in these holders, I will be able to do my examinations thoroughly, without risk of the bells sounding."
I bowed my head slightly, and carefully removed Yrael from its pouch. As soon as the clapper cleared the leather tongue of the bandolier, I clasped it with three fingers, and transferred the bell to the holder on the bench. The big loop of the holder automatically tightened on the bell when it was satisfied with the positioning, and the tongue of the holder snaked up and held tightly to the bell's clapper. This was one bell, that was not going to make a sound. I released the breath I was holding, and reached for the second bell, Orannis, The Destroyer, but hesitated.
"Lord Sameth." I warned. "Yrael is quite a lot more peaceful than The Destroyer… Its will is in this bell, and it will not cooperate… It nearly killed me when I forged it, and since that time, it has never left this pouch, are you absolutely certain that this holder will be able to contain such force?"
Sameth nodded, and glanced at my bandolier. "I did notice that the enchantment on your ninth pouch is incredibly powerful. Have no fear, I made these holders myself, and they are imbued with the power of the Original Seven. There is little chance of The Destroyer's power breaking free."
I bowed my head again gratefully. "Thank you, Lord Sameth. It would be terrible if its power escaped, and wrought havoc around Belisaere. It would weigh terribly on my conscience." I paused once again, holding my breath. Absolute precision, of both hand-eye coordination, and strength of will, were needed to handle Orannis. Even the slightest sound of the bell, the tiniest chime, would be enough to break my hold over it. The magic in the room may help, but it would not contain The Destroyer's wrath completely.
The other inhabitants of the room held their breaths… waiting. I undid the pouch strap on my bandolier, and slowly eased the bell out, stilling the clapper before it left the leather tongue. Sameth was correct, in that the magic imbued into this ninth pouch on my bandolier, were several hundred times more powerful than those on the others. It too, like Sam's bell holders, was imbued with the essence and power of the original seven, as well as the eighth, Yrael.
Orannis's clapper jerked in my hand, bashing my knuckles against the inside of the bell, however I did not loosen my hold. The Destroyer's anger raged against my will; however I quashed it forcefully, and quickly transferred the dangerous bell to the second bell holder on the bench. As the ring tightened, and the clapper was fastened, I began to breathe once more, and audible sighs of relief were heard from Sameth, Lirael, and Livana.
"I shall get to work at once." Declared Sam; "I need space for this spell, and no distractions, if you could please move outside this curtain, so I can concentrate. Feel free to explore the workshop." He then closed his eyes for some moments. He began to mutter, and his fingers sketched charter marks in the air. He began weaving an elaborate and complex spell, made up of hundreds of regular charter marks, interspersed here and there by master marks. I saw no more, for Lirael ushered Livana and I out of the room, and back into the workshop proper.
Livana and I spent several hours wandering around Sameth's workshop, guided by Lirael, looking at the amazingly vast collection of odds and ends scattered about. He seemed to be working on a score or more projects, all at once, and had hundreds of orders and requests banked up on his suggestions desk. Once or twice, I thought I saw something white flash underneath a desk, or around a corner, but whenever I looked again, there was nothing unusual to see.
After one such occurrence, I turned to Lirael to point it out, only to find, perched on a bench right next to me, a little white cat. It looked just like a normal white cat. All but its eyes… Its eyes glinted with a knowledge and wisdom of several millennia. The cat sat back on its hind legs, and gave its left front paw several licks, before looking up into my eyes.
"Hello, Emantek." Said Mogget; also known as Yrael, the eighth Bright Shiner.
