Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!
Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,
His soul thou canst not have; therefore be gone.

--Richard III; I.ii.

Kill revenge destroy Revenge Revenge Revenge Power Earth-power steal Gods-power Hall of Mithros crumbling Triumph revenge Destruction death power to destroy Revenge Destroy Mother Mother? Destroy kill kill kill Kill KILL Death destroy revenge Win triumph glory god-king Gods destroyer ruin revenge chaos. Hate hate hate hate HATE Kill king revenge destroy kill Mother All powerful best BEST BEST Earthquake crying women screaming child die die Die DIE DIE all powerful kill death destroy ruin revenge Repayment restitution just due deserve DESERVE die kill show power Lioness rip crumple armor dead magic gone copper hair bloody dirty win win win revenge all-power Gate destroy Roald destroy King destroy Corus streets falling falling falling collapse woman running screaming dead children crushed bloody gown. Horror... Nightmare... Chapel sink roof collapse Mithros brought down laugh laugh Conquer gods laugh destroy destroy revenge Burning burning field fire plowman burning scream, scream, can't escape laugh Most powerful all-powerful ALL-POWERFUL Death-bringer Land-destroyer, God-killer, arches falling buildings crumble buildings crumble die death revenge revenge revenge Twist hurt kill destroy No... Never forgiven never forgive never forgotten never forget never give in never give up never never never revenge revenge REVENGE destroy kill revenge always revenge many revenges many destructions people dead plague crawling man infect air kill kill infant girl baby boy baby kill kill kill mother father children Tortall nothing left nothing nothing revenge Kill-

Baron Thom of Pirate's Swoop felt a giant bell resounding in his ears. There was something hard at his back, too. And a terrible ache in his body. He tried to open his eyes. They wouldn't. He seemed to be lying on the floor. Strange. Then the truth behind his situation hit him: he had failed. Damn. Master Salmalín would yell at him. Stupid! Stupid fool! That sort of magic is never to be attempted. Never! You could have killed yourself!' But it should have worked. He had checked and double checked everythingLook to the mage! It all sounded very far away. Perhaps something had happened? Had he been hurt, then? Unconscious? That could happen, when a major spell backfired. He could hear footsteps and murmurs. Well, then. With an effort, he wrenched his eyelids apart. Fuzzy, blurred shapes were walking, scurrying; there seemed to be someone else on the ground as well, but perhaps it was only a cloak left all in a heap.

Oh Your Grace, he won't die, surely!If you will allow me, Mistress--Please, Father, don't bestir can take care of him. So. A healer would be with him. Thom himself did not Heal, though he knew the theory. Mother had certainly talked enough about it at home. And he had sustained serious injury before. Soon he would be losing consciousness again, only to wake up in a bed, later. How strange that no one was coming.

Quite sure you're well, Sire? No ill effects? Was King Jonathan here? In the University? But why? What had happened? Where was he? He put a hand to the ground, and tried to raise himself up. He collapsed again. But at least his vision seemed to be clearing.

I don't know-- Aha. His chalk diagrams were gone. So something had worked. Of course all these people milling around were probably obliterating any traces of it. Idiots! If only he could examine the room, find out what parts of his enchantments had gone through and which had backfired.

Oh Mithros! Goddess! No! But -- strange. He was lying on stone, not the wooden floor of his and Aziel's study.

Please, Gods, please, he can't be dead! He wasn't dead. Somewhere, a woman was having hysterics.

You are overwrought, Mistress. He isn't assure you. Where was he? Had the backlash been so violent as to blow him all the way to the Buttery?

Drink this -- it will only calm you. -- Over here.My lord! No, that was ridiculous. Something so severe would have killed him, whereas he didn't seem to be injured, but only terribly weak.

Have you his pulse? And beside that, this stone was smooth, much older than the new College. And much dirtier. Thom shuddered as he realized what he was lying amidst. He rarely left the University, often sleeping in his study. He had only theoretical knowledge of the sort of place where one found human waste and food scraps mixed and ground together on the floor.

I'm not a novice at this, sir! pulse is good. Had the backlash sent him into delirium? But where was he? And why did no one come? He could see people moving beyond him, could hear their concerned voices. Had something else happened? Was it coincidence that he found himself here? Or had they already given him up for dead? Perhaps he had been unconscious for an entire day. Damn. Damn damn damn! That would go on his record, surely. There was bound to be some sort of academic tribunal. They wouldn't deny him his Mastery -- They couldn't do that! -- but it would be uncomfortable and embarrassing. And Aziel would smirk to no end, complacent in his own mediocrity. Damn Aziel!

What do you haven't drawn the circle, yet? Any could have happened? He was not injured, he was fairly sure of it. He tried again to shift himself into a sitting position, and succeeded better. The effort seemed to strain every muscle in his body, and he was out of breath by the time he finished. He could see better, too.

Please, my lord, please are all very tired. Everything seemed further away than usual. But the voices sounded familiar, when he could make them out.

--Majesty could have been been sitting here when who knows Gods only can say very lucky, my girl, that Only sat moment, Your Grace regain my strength forgive please Was that Galina? He squinted at the woman. Her hands were gesturing wildly as she seemed to be talking to first one man then another. She curtsied, then began to cast a spell. Wards. She was casting full wards. But why? Over what? And why was her golden-brown Gift gathering so slowly into her upraised palms? She must be quite tired; Galina (for so it must be by the color of her Gift) was a powerful mage. Not as powerful as he, of course. but not a weakling, either.

Shouldn't Lady here? Ridiculous. All this and they can't even Grace.Wouldn't be she wouldn't want the Lio-- All the talking around him suddenly burred to an indistinct hum. Thom panicked. He was injured. He was relapsing! He would lose consciousness again, even die! He tried to shout for help, then noticed the golden dome overhead. Galina had been warding him. Him. Why? He examined his arm. He didn't seem to be exuding anything. He smelled foul, true, but that was the effect of lying unconscious in in he still didn't know where he was, he realized. His skin didn't have any unusual cast or blemish. Was he sick, then? Was it again only coincidence that he remembered nothing beyond finishing his chalkings and readying himself for the execution of his enchantments? Had he fallen ill of some sort of plague, that he had to be quarantined off? But surely it was more normal practice to shield the healer who examined the patient than to isolate the patient. And there was no healer present, at all. He tried to squint through the wards, to distinguish some face or some voice, but could only see shapes, could only hear the indistinct rustling of a myriad of conversations turned to whispers.

Did they think he was dead? Panic welled up in him again. The air would grow stale, breathing more difficult, he would slowly suffocate No. No. Don't be ridiculous. Surely, they would have to realize that he lived. If he could only get their attention. No sound would get through the Wards, but perhaps they could see him enough as he could see them? Yes, the Ward was not fully opaque. If he could only stand up. But, perhaps -- he tried get up on his knees. He swayed, and had to reach down to steady himself on his hands. Pain shot through his forearms as his weight shifted onto them. But he could do it. It was only the pain of stiffness, he thought. Alan would have been able to tell him better, or Mother. But even unused to pain as he was, he did think that he could determine what was serious and what not. Now to move from two knees to one. It wasn't as difficult as he had anticipated. If only he had something to brace himself on, but he knew better than to try to grab onto the glittering dome overhead and around him. At best, his hands would simply slide on its surface. At worst, there might be something more malicious in the ward. He ought to probe it, in fact. Plans to stand momentarily forgotten, he began to summon up his power. But where the purple Trebond Gift should have collected between his palms, nothing came. He pulled harder at himself, and felt as though some place between his heart and his stomach were being scraped dry. Still nothing. He was drained. It couldn't have been so many days that he had been unconscious then. Even twenty-four hours should have replenished him to a great extent. He needed to get out. He needed to understand this. He needed to ask someone the date, or, better, what was happening. It was ridiculous!

With a wild burst of effort, of pure, thoughtless energy, he got to his feet. His head ached and his feet spun, but he didn't fall, and he barely noticed the disorientation. He couldn't go on like this anymore! He had to make them notice him!

I'm alive! He shouted as loud as he could. But he only heard an indistinct sound. He cleared his throat, moved his jaw. His teeth felt strange; he was aware of every one of them. He tried again. I'm alive! Let me out! It was better, though he doubted they could hear him. If only he could jump up and down, dance, wave, but he was afraid that if he tried, he would only make himself fall. But someone had noticed. Shapes were converging, moving towards him. Soon, there would be an end to this incessant and illogical waiting.

He was waiting, ready for them, when the ward lifted.

he began to ask, even before he truly saw who had come to meet him.

On your knees, traitor-scum, someone said from far away. From behind him? He construed the words, but they made no sense to him. Why were Prince Roald, Duke Baird, Duke Gareth, Lord Raoul, Sir Gareth present in the absence of the king? He wondered for a moment, but there was a sudden sharp pain in his legs, and he collapsed. He was not prepared for the fall and could not catch himself. He closed his eyes against the burning hurt in his kneecaps and wrists.

I arrest you by the name of Thom of Pirate's Swoop for the crime of High Treason.