Chapter 1 for "Mort the Magician"

In the land of Gilead, on the shores of the River Eld, there lived a wizard named Robert Longshanks. Robert was considered the preeminent wizard in all of Gilead (and thus, the world, since Gilead did not let any of its wizards leave, and no other nation had wizards). He went far in the Tower, and eventually Robert became the King's most trusted counselor and friend. In time, Robert courted and married the King's youngest daughter, Rina, and she became pregnant with his child.
On the day of the birth, Robert paced back and forth in front of the room like an angry cat. The eight-legged spider on his back, the symbol of his profession, seemed to move as he paced. Even among the citizens of Gilead, he was much taller than most other people, and his long legs ate up the distance quickly. "Where is she?" Robert demanded. "She was supposed to be here at the last bell, and now?."
"I'm here," a youthful voice said. She was one of the youngest Seeresses that Robert had ever seen in his life. She had the gray robe, but that was all that was gray about here. The woman was barely out of her childhood, and her green eyes and blond hair would have had most men courting her, instead of seeking her out for childbirths. She bowed to him. "I am Seeress Samantha of the Sisterhood, and I have come for the Seeing."
"Is this what the Sisterhood sends me?" Robert demanded "A fledgling? For the birth of my firstborn?"
"Watch your tongue," she snapped, "The Sisterhood sends who they deem will have the vision, and it is not your place to question them on the why or how. Or did you expect an old crone?"
"I expected a...," Robert began. The piercing cry of a child silenced him. Robert rushed inside. The midwife had the child in a white blanket already. "It is a boy, your Wisdom," she told him.
A boy! He looked over at his new heir. Finally, a child of his own, a sire to raise and teach everything he knew. Robert was close approaching his fortieth year, and some had thought he would never marry, let alone raise his own child. He had watched his friends do the same, and now it was his turn. Marcus. Yes, Marcus was a great name for the child. "His name will be...", he began.
"I feel the Sight upon me," the Seeress intoned. She quickly moved towards the baby, and, taking it up in her arms, looked down at him. Robert held his breath as the Seeress looked at the child. Eternities stretched out in those moments, until she handed the child back to the midwife.
She looked up at the crowd, and for a brief moment, Robert saw a fear so thick and silent in her eyes that even he was struck cold by it. Then it was stuffed down, and her eyes were light and merry.
"The child is a true blessing to you and your wife," the woman said, all smiles. "He shall lead Gilead in war and to glory and honor, and in time his fame shall surpass even that of his father." With that, she bowed, and quickly ran out of the room.
"Did you hear that, my beloved," Rina said. She looked down at her child with a beaming pride. But Robert was already striding out of the room to catch up with the Seeress. He got caught up in the crowd of people and servants offering their congratulations. "Out of my way!" he growled, running past them.
He caught up with her about halfway down the hall towards the entrance.
"What do you want?" she snapped at him, and then fell back from that piercing gaze of his.
"I want the truth, woman, not the dung heap that you dumped in there," he said. "Do not try my patience, or I will make you weep for your own death."
"Pray for your own!" she replied in a cry that made her sound younger than she was. Then, looking this way and that., she motioned for him to move off to the side. Robert did. Samantha rose up on her toes.
"I'll tell you if you promise not to harm me, or to tell anyone what I am to tell you now, or act upon it," she said.
"Why would you not want me to act upon it if it were bad?" Robert asked her.
"Because, more than likely, you would make a worse mess of things than they are now, although I can't even imagine that," she replied. "Promise me!"
"Wizard's oath, child," he said. A blue wisp of Air wound itself around him, binding the words to his very bones and soul. Now he could no more break the oath than drink the entirety of the River Eld. She sniffed.
"Okay, contrary to what you may think, everything I said in there was true. The child will lead Gilead to war, but it will be war against each other, and against him."
"War against my child?" Robert asked weakly.
"Yes, I saw famine and pestilence in the land, although whether your son brings it or not is unclear to me, but it will happen. Gilead will see a time that it has never seen before. Fighting in the streets, an army besieging the land, and people will eat each other alive. It was so horrible," she said, tears coming down her face.
"I can't see any honor and glory in that," Robert muttered.
"Neither can I," Samantha continued, "But I saw it as a very faint light at the end, something that must be in order for us to survive. Not that it will be all that pleasant. His name will be death, and his hands will be full of death. When he grows into his own, he will invent new ways of killing, ways so horrible that I can scarcely describe them. He may shatter the dreams of one, and in that, he will shatter the dreams of us all. Your blood will eventually be on his hands, and he will kill men as easily as you or I breathe."
"Death," Robert said. In a few short moments, the light of his life had descended into a madness of destruction. How could this happen? He looked back the way he had come. If the child stopped breathing in the middle of the night, well, that happens a lot these days, and...
There must have be something in his face, because Samantha grabbed his dark beard and yanked his face down so he was facing her. "You must not kill the child!" She told him. "He may be death, but if you kill him, the result will make death seem like a comfort. He must stop the Demon, even though he himself will be demonized. I saw that too, and his rise was paled beside what would happen if that did." She gave him a look that told him she would not recall that path.
She walked by him towards the gate. "One other thing I should tell you," she said. "In spite of everything I told you, the child will truly love you." And she made her way out. Robert stood in the middle of the hall for a moment. It wasn't true, the Seeress was just mistaken. Yes, that was it. She was mistaken, it was because of her youth, that was all.
Yet he knew that he was lying to himself. Seeresses saw truly-that had been known for eons-no matter what there age, and all of them were sworn to tell the truth, though they apparently didn't have to tell it all. He walked back to the room.
The crowd was looking at him expectantly, and Robert realized what he had done. "I apologize, I forgot to properly thank the good Seeress," he said. The crowd oohed and aahed at his reverence and manners, and made a path for him to return to his wife.
He found her cradling the child-funny, that he should refer to his son as "the child"-and her father, the King, looking on nearby, along with his court. His name shall be Death, and his hands will be full of Death. He could not imagine it happening.
"What did you say, dear?" Rina asked him.
"Mort something or other," The King muttered. "Oh, I get it. You want to name him Mort. A fine name for a magician." And one of the servants ran out to announce the news.
Il Nomme Mort, ti il Ferna fuerde Mort. He had spoken in the Wizard's Tongue. He took a few steps to stop the man, and then decided against it. Why not? The Wizard's Tongue was only known to Wizards, and all of them had sworn not to disclose that tongue to anyone who did not wear the Spider. He laughed at the private joke, and motioned to one of the servants.
"Bring me a barrel of our best wine and have it set in my study in the southern tower," he told the man, who bowed and left the room. Mort. Death. Well, that part of the Seeing had told true, what about the rest?


A week later, Mort claimed his first victim. The servant came running into his study with the news. "Your Wisdom, the Seeress Samantha has hanged herself," the man proclaimed. "It's surely bad luck, your Wisdom."
"Nonsense, Col, you mind your mouth," a second servant said before curtsying. "It's just a coincidence."
"Your pardon, your Wisdom, my wife does not mind her manners," Col said, "I shall leave you now." And the two continued arguing all the way out the door. What neither of them realized was that the High Counselor to the King was too drunk to reply, but there was one thought that echoed through his head.
Col was right, it is bad luck for us all, he thought, refilling his cup.