The Marketplace
Prologue to Chaos, Chapter 5, Scene 2
The Storm Breaks, Scene 2
“Surely you do not mean to give offense with such an offer? I am merely a poor and humble jewelry merchant. What would my wife say if I returned to her tonight not with a profit, but a loss? A loss! And a loss, no less, on an item of such dazzling beauty as this?”
He held up the amulet to sparkle in the morning sun. “See how the silver is worked in such an intricate pattern,” he said. “And laced with a delicate filigree of bluesteel tracing …”
The lady smiled. The merchant had managed the improbable task of looking both offended and pathetic at the same time. Then he’d returned to his sales pitch without batting an eye.
“Perhaps ten percent purity,” she countered dismissively. That wasn’t true, of course, and she knew it. It didn’t hold up to his exaggerated claims, but the alloy was at least twenty percent pure. It was spell grade bluesteel for certain, and the design was definitely a dweomer matrix. A moderately competent artificer could easily get the dainty amulet to hold an enchantment, and she was more than moderately competent.
She looked at the merchant and arched an eyebrow. Nothing in her carefully cultivated manner or dress hinted at being a craftmage. Hunting through the market for unidentified artifacts could be quite profitable, especially when she wasn’t marked for her profession. Wearing her finest outfit and pretending to be a haughty noblewoman did bring the price up a bit, but much less than giving away the actual reason for her interest.
The central marketplace of Lannamon bustled around them with late morning activity. Wheeled stalls were scattered throughout the huge plaza in a carefully ordered pattern. They were laid out expertly to allow for a free flow of patrons, while still allowing plenty of space for shoppers to stop and browse their wares.
A main road ran through the center of the plaza. It ascended into the hills and terraces of the Upper City, both to the north and to the south. Many smaller roads branched off from those two great arteries, most of them curving to follow the long line of the firth to the east. The nearer ones disappeared into the streets of the Lower City, running through a maze of docks, shops and homes.
The marketplace itself was divided into sections for different products. It ended to the east at the tip of the firth in an elevated pier that provided a magnificent view of the water. Restaurants were scattered along its edge and down short runs of stairs that descended to the level of the docks. Stalls of fruits and vegetables and butchers’ stations hung with fresh cuts lined that side of the plaza, and the smells of cooking meat and exotic spices filled the air. Boats and ships of all kinds bobbed on the firth itself, their many colored sails dotting a background of deep sea-blue.
The western end of the marketplace adjoined the great amphitheater, which sat at the foot of the High City to its west. The amphitheater was shaped like a long, shallow bowl, with a raised dais at its center that served as a stage. The ground around it was covered with a lushly tended lawn of vibrant grass suitable for seating on blankets and chairs. It had been created for public events, from performances of plays and music to lectures, debates, and speeches.
The King also used it to address the people of the city, or to issue royal proclamations and decrees. A small group of clerks and heralds from the palace had arrived and were preparing for just such an event. Stands for distributing printed copies of the new constitution were being set up all around the dais.
The western edge of the marketplace was where its most expensive goods could be found. These included fine weapons, jewelry, and magically enchanted items. It was also where the merchant’s booth had been set up. The haggling pair stood near the amphitheater’s east gate.
“It is a pretty piece, though,” the lady mage continued nonchalantly. “I’ll give you twenty-five sovereigns for it.” The amulet would be worth over three times that when enchanted.
The merchant smiled. “While that is more reasonable, My Lady,” he said, “it is still surely too little for an item of such magnificent quality. I might be persuaded to come down as low as forty-five —”
His voice was cut off by a sudden movement of air. A stiff wind had come out of nowhere. It swirled around them, blowing their hair over their faces. The merchant lunged for his cart to secure some of its lighter items.
The lady mage looked around in annoyance — and then frowned. The wind seemed much stronger within the amphitheater. She could see the clerks setting up for the afternoon proclamation rushing around wildly. Tables and chairs had tipped over, and some of them were skidding across the ground. A box full of printed sheets had been blown open, and its papers were already being carried high into the air.
Her frown deepened. The sheets seemed to be following a circular pattern, as though the wind were forming a vortex about the amphitheater’s central stage. They swirled around, only to break suddenly free near the edge of the bowl and sail out over the city in random directions. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky to account for it, and it didn’t look natural.
She turned back to the cart and cursed. The amulet was glowing! Its filigree of fine bluesteel lines was now shining with a faint bluish light. It was spell-grade alloy, all right, and better than she’d thought. It was so good that it was actually resonating with nearby magic. Someone was literally conjuring up a storm, and their reckless casting was going to tip the merchant off to the item’s true value. If she didn’t act quickly she was going to lose a very profitable purchase.
The merchant had finished securing his stall. “Truly, you do know your trade, my good sir,” she said, as he turned to look at her again. She hastily palmed the amulet to cover its glowing face and smiled awkwardly at him. “Forty-five sovereigns it is.”
She slipped the amulet into the pocket of her skirt and took out and opened her purse. She heard the wind pick up behind her, and the shouts of the clerks rising with it. She tried to keep calm as she carefully counted out the coins. She wanted to get the transaction done with quickly and to get away as soon as possible.
She was at forty when she realized that the merchant wasn’t watching her any longer. He was looking over her shoulder, and his eyes were wide. She turned — and gasped.
An electric haze had settled over the amphitheater, a hemisphere of eerie light that darkened with each passing moment. The wind was a howl around them now. The rising commotion of the crowd behind them was barely audible above the din.
“Forty is good,” the merchant said abruptly. He scooped the coins she had placed on the counter into a leather bag with an expert sweep of his hand. Then he turned brusquely and kicked out the wheel-blocks on his cart.
“Thank you very much for your business,” he said. “I’m closing my stand for the day.”
She nodded, barely noticing his words. She was still staring at the menacing dome forming over the amphitheater.
“What do you think it is?” asked a woman beside her. She was young, and didn’t seem disturbed by the developing phenomenon. “I heard there was going to be a big proclamation from the King and the High Council today. Do you think the Archmage could be preparing some kind of show to herald it?”
Had she been less distracted, the lady mage might have laughed. That Lenard the Archmage would turn his immense power to the creation of a magic show — well, that was just absurd. He had much more important things to do. Still, the spell building in the amphitheater was stronger than anything she’d encountered before. Could anyone else have cast it?
“I have no idea,” she told the girl honestly.
She noticed a sudden uncomfortable warmth growing at her hip. She looked down and saw with horror that the light from the amulet was shining through the fabric of her dress. She slipped a hand into her pocket and nearly scalded it on the hot metal. She hastily produced a handkerchief and used it to take out the talisman. It dangled from its chain, blazing in her hand like a star.
She wasn’t alone. A quick look around confirmed that several other items in the stalls of the magic vendors nearby were glowing with the same bluish light. All bluesteel matrices, she guessed, and all with weak or no enchantments on them to damp their resonance with the magic building in the amphitheater. That she had never even heard of a spell powerful enough to do that sent a chill up her spine like nothing she’d felt before.
“Hey! Is that amulet I sold you magical?” the jewelry vendor demanded indignantly.
She paused at the absurdity of the complaint, torn between competing urges. She wanted to snap an angry retort, to stare with fascination at the frighteningly building spell, and to dash like mad to get away. The last took only a few seconds to win out, but those seconds proved fateful. Even as she hiked up her skirts to run, she felt the spell build to a climax and engage.
A wave of force erupted from the darkening hemisphere. It struck her with a sound like a dull thud, throwing her and the young woman backward as though shoved by an enormous hand. They landed on the ground, stunned. The vendor’s cart shielded him from the brunt of the blast, but it toppled over, spilling its wares. Its owner desperately tried to leap aside but failed; he was caught beneath it as it fell.
The mage forced herself back to her feet. The young woman lay on the ground next to her, whimpering hysterically. The vendor was staring in slack-jawed pain at the darkening sky, his legs pinned beneath his fallen cart. Scattered gems and jewelry lay on his chest and on the cobbled street around him. The entire western end of the marketplace was strewn with fallen people, carts, and wares.
The mage looked back toward the amphitheater. A translucent dome of hazy purple magic had settled over it. It was enormous, covering about half the arena’s diameter. Outside its boundary, clerks, tables, and boxes of proclamations lay scattered across the grass like leaves tossed by a gale.
With a gasp of horror, she saw that everything within that dome had been crushed — impressed into the grass of the arena as though stomped on by a giant boot. One man appeared to have been right at its edge. His torso lay outside, struggling feebly, his broken lower body lost within it.
A point of scarlet light appeared at the dome’s apex. It spread rapidly, its leading edge a circle of fire that rushed along the surface toward the base of the hemisphere. It continued into the earth, severing anything in its fiery path. It put the maimed man out of his misery as it passed, parting his torso as though sliced by the blade of an impossibly sharp knife.
A strange vista appeared within the glowing magic. It was like looking into a gigantic lens in which everything nearby was blurred and out of focus, but the panorama behind could be seen clearly. It was a blasted landscape, barren, rocky, and mountainous, lying beneath a sky dark with clouds. Drifts of ash lay everywhere, tinting the scene with an ominous, gray cast.
A great peak dominated the background. Little licks of flame danced around a river of lava that ran from its riven summit and down its side. Winged creatures wheeled in the distance. They were too far to make out, but they looked almost like giant bats or insects hovering and circling in the smoke-filled air.
“Is that — Hell?” a voice squeaked beside her. The girl had stopped whimpering and climbed to her feet. Her eyes were fixed on the vision within the dome, and she was shaking. “And is something … moving in there?”
The mage shifted her gaze to the foreground. The girl was right. She still couldn’t make it out, but whatever it was, it was definitely in motion. A blurry mass seemed to be surging toward them in waves, growing larger and more distinct with each passing moment …
With a stab of insight and horror, she realized what was happening. It was impossible, unbelievable — a thing out of legend — but nothing else could explain it.
“Hellgate,” she whispered.
A figure emerged from the roiling background. She stared at it, eyes wide. A part of her mind screamed that she should run, now, but she didn’t seem to be able to move her legs. Its appearance sharpened into focus as it stepped through the edge of the dome and into the city.
It stood about twelve feet in height. It was man-shaped, walking upright on two legs, and wore what looked like a harness of red, leathered straps. A heavily muscled body of jet black skin gleamed as though wet in the bright morning sun.
Gigantic wings covered with black feathers shrouded it like a cloak. They came unfurled as it walked, reaching out to either side, and beat the air menacingly. As they did, they revealed two arms carrying an enormous axe with a viciously serrated edge. The axe shone with an evil red light.
The creature strode boldly across the amphitheater. It stopped halfway between the edge of the dome and the marketplace. It turned, surveying the city and its people. Then it unfurled its wings to their full extent, threw back its head, and laughed.
“I am Incanus Thad,” the demon’s voice boomed. “Captain of the Horde of Zomoran, the Black Magus. Behold me, mortals, and despair — and die!”
The girl standing next to her screamed once, and fainted. The sound seemed to snap the craftmage out of her paralysis. She turned and ran from the scene, blindly, as fast as her legs would carry her.
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