Jabberwocky: Chapter 2

Callay followed behind Lady Mimsy and her two guards in a wide-eyed daze. If this hadn’t been the same route he took to deliver firewood to the lord’s manor each day, he might have tripped and fallen on his face on the walk there.

His excitement only grew when he realized Lady Mimsy didn’t veer left towards the servant’s entrance, but instead headed towards the main doors. Callay had never even touched those doors before, let alone walked past them.

They were made of fine boards of strong mome rath, carved and planed to be flat and straight. That was a tough feat of craftsmanship, but the skilled carpenters of Lord Gyre were up the challenge.

“Are you coming or not?” Lady Mimsy had one hand on her hip as she stood by the open door to the manor.

Callay realized he’d frozen in place while examining the woodwork. He blinked away his dazed expression to focus on the moment. “Apologies m’lady. I’ve just never seen the doors up close before.”

Lady Mimsy let out an unladylike snort before rapping on Callay’s shoulder with her knuckles, as though trying to knock the silliness out of him. “They’re just doors, Callay.”

Callay felt heat rise to his cheeks at Lady Mimsy’s touch, but he quickly regained his composure. She was right. To her and the people of the manor, these were just ordinary doors. But to Callay, they felt like the doors to his future. Before they’d always been closed to him, but today somebody had opened them up and invited him past them.

Callay followed Lady Mimsy down the hall. Though Callay had worked outside the manor all his life, he’d never seen its interior. He looked at the well-swept wooden floors and ornate rugs and couldn’t help but feel like he was dirtying them with his presence. Lady Mimsy tapped on a door off by the side, and a familiar face greeted Callay when the door swung open.

“Arrange a bunk in the servant’s quarters for this one.” Lady Mimsy instructed.

To his shock and surprise, Callay realized this was the manor maid who had Callay and Ross stacking chopping and stacking wood for the manor’s many hearths. He was used to being ordered around by her, not seeing her scurrying to please her mistress. But scurry she did. She got to work so hastily it took her a second glance to spot Callay behind Lady Mimsy.

“Callay?” The maid said in surprise. “Y-you’re not supposed to be inside.”

“It’s okay, I invited him in.” Lady Mimsy said. “Now, find that bed.”

“R-right away, Lady Mimsy.” The maid said hastily.

Callay looked around once more, taking in the gold chandeliers and the silver crests adorning the doors. Lord Gyre had replaced all the candles in the manor with little enchanted beads of light, which now adorned every wall and cast a dull white glow in all directions. Callay had never seen a magical object up close before, and he couldn’t help but feel that their light was piercing through him to his core.

He glanced down at his hands, which were dirty and rough. The magical light illuminated every speck of dirt on his clothes. The course weave of the burlap cloth Callay wore over his body had never bothered him before, but now he looked as his dirty shirt and at Lady Mimsy’s clean finery. Could what he was wearing even be called clothes next to what the young noble lady had on? His shirt didn't seem worth of being in such esteemed presence.

But you’re worthy of being here. Lady Mimsy thinks it, and soon, Lord Gyre will know it too.

Before Callay knew it, Lady Mimsy had arranged a bunk in the servants’ quarters for him. He found himself sitting on top of a narrow bed with an empty trunk at its foot.

“You may keep all the belongings you can fit in the trunk.” The maid said to Callay. “Here’s the key. Don’t lose it, because we don’t have spares.”

Callay carried nearly all his worldly belongings on his person, which mostly consisted of a small pouch of copper coins. He tucked those away in the trunk, realizing how much empty space there was still left empty. He stood up and looked at the bed, as eager to spend a night in it as he was to finally catch the lord’s eye.

It looks so soft and comfortable. Far better than a bed of hay.

“These quarters will only be temporary.” Lady Mimsy said, misinterpreting Callay’s look to be one of disappointment instead of awe. “I’ll try to arrange a private room for you, eventually.”

“It’s beautiful.” Callay said as he wiped a tear from his eye.

Lady Mimsy shared an amused look with the maid before speaking again. “Get some rest. Feel free to enjoy yourself during the Brillig celebration tomorrow. We’ll figure out how to put that strong back of yours to... better use.”

Callay stood up straighter. He laid his hand flat and pressed his fingertips against his temple, saluting Lady Mimsy like he’d seen the manor’s soldiers do.

Lady Mimsy giggled at the gesture, to Callay’s confusion. She reached up and pushed Callay’s saluting hand back down to his side. “A bow from you, not a salute.” Lady Mimsy said.

That didn’t seem right to Callay. Surely a warrior was supposed to salute their lady? But Callay supposed Lady Mimsy would know more than he did, so he bowed low at the waist until he found himself staring forward at the place between Lady Mimsy’s legs. The fine fabric of her skirt wrapped around her legs, leaving a tiny indent between her legs.

Callay quickly realized he was staring at the womanhood of the lady who held his future in her hands. With all haste, his eyes darted to the ground, and he pushed all improper thoughts aside.

“Thank you again for this opportunity to serve the manor, Lady Mimsy.” Callay said.

Lady Mimsy smiled and saw a set of dainty fingers reach under his chin. She tilted his head upwards and Callay found himself looking the young woman in the eyes again.

“We’ll speak again after the Brillig festival.” Lady Mimsy said. Then she pressed her fingers to her free hand and pressed them against her lips. She blew a kiss in Callay’s direction. With a girlish smile, she gave her maid a wink, then turned. Her skirt twirled behind her as she skipped up the stairs, casting Callay one last glance over her shoulder as she left. “Before then, see that you take a bath or two.”

When the lady was finally out of sight, the maid turned to Callay with an inquisitive expression.

“She saw me cut a tree down.” Callay explained.

The maid was apparently unimpressed with Callay’s explanation, but she shrugged. “I suppose the lady is a grown woman now. And if she had to grab one of the serfs, I suppose it makes sense for her to take you.” She shook her head sadly. “It’s a bit of a shame to lose you as a woodcutter, though. It will take any other lad twice as long to fuel the hearths.”

“I’m sure Ross will drag somebody else out to help him.” Callay said. “After all, that’s how he recruited me.”

The maid led Callay to a large wooden tub and told him where he could fetch water.

“Warm a few buckets over the fire there, then mix them with cold well water until the tub is warm enough to sit in.” The maid instructed. “Do you know how to use soap and a washcloth?”

“I’m not an idiot. I can clean myself.” Callay replied as he accepted a bar of soap and a cloth of finer make than his burlap tunic.

The maid left and Callay realized he was in fact an idiot as he struggled to clean places that he didn’t even know were dirty. He was a fast learner though, and soon Callay had tidied himself up and washed his hair. There was a copper mirror in the corner and Callay looked at his own reflection curiously.

He touched his face. It was strange to see himself without the ripples of water across the image. In the past, he’d only ever seen his reflection in a bowl or a stream. Callay realized he looked like a man now. Not long ago he’d been a newly orphaned boy crying after his dead parents, and now he was starting to resemble his own father. It was a strange realization.

Callay finished tidying himself up and to his surprise his old clothes had been replaced with a much nicer tunic and trousers. They were worn at the knees and frayed a little at the ankles, but they fit closely enough. While not as fine as Lady Mimsy’s garb, now at least Callay would be fit to appear before Lord Gyre without embarrassment.

When Callay was dressed, he found the maid outside the door again. “You clean up well, Callay.” The maid said as she looked him up and down. “I could almost mistake you for a squire on the cusp of knighthood, or a young lord back from his morning’s hunt."

“Ha.” Callay chuckled. “I just hope I’d pass as a lesser sword-bearer in a lord’s retinue.”

“Is that what you think you’ll be?” The maid asked with a raised eyebrow.

Callay shrugged. “If I can talk Lord Gyre into giving me a chance, I’ll prove my worth.”

The maid shifted her dress uncomfortably for a moment before quickly changing the subject. “Well, as long as you’re staying in the servants’ quarters, I suppose you might as well do some servants’ work.” She opened the door to a small closet, which had a broom and dustpan in it. “Take these and sweep the floors. They’ll help you get the lay of the manor. Just don’t go into Lord Gyre or Lady Mimsy’s bedchambers. No going in the lord’s study either. Or Lady Mimsy’s tea room. Or the kitchens, wine cellar, or dungeons. In fact, if the door is locked or there’s somebody inside the chamber already, don’t go in.”

Callay realized there were a lot of places he couldn’t go, but he decided he’d figure out where he could and couldn’t go easily enough. He happily accepted the broom and dustpan, along with a quick explanation of how to use the strange tools. Callay had always lived on a dirt floor, and he’d never needed to clean dirt or grime out of the way.

“Understood.” Callay said. He soon got to work sweeping the floors.

The manor was quite large. There were more rooms in it than Callay could count, and each room was the size of an entire home. Callay took his time tracing his own footsteps back to the main entrance. He’d tracked in no small amount of of grime on his way in, and he did his best to fix things.

The rugs were harder to sweep, but the floors were soon clean of anything he could have tracked in. There was no sun indoors to gauge the time by, and the magical lights overhead didn’t dim in the slightest. Callay was used to working from sunup until sun down, so with the first room clean he moved on to the stairs. He headed up them to the second floor, he dusted the long hallway and the private rooms.

Lord Gyre might ask the people who know me what I'm like. I have to make sure I keep working hard to impress him. I won't lose out on my big chance because the maid remembered I was too lazy to sweep an extra room.

He’d been astounded by his own bed and chest, but when he entered the guest chambers, he was truly blown away. The vaulted ceilings overhead had been decorated with characters from some ancient battle or saga, and images of dragons and saintly swords adorned each post.

When Lady Mimsy said I might one day get a private room, she couldn’t have been talking about these, could she?

Callay took a look at the door again to verify that this wasn’t Lord Gyre’s own bedchambers. Sure enough, it was just one of many guest rooms. How fine would the lord’s own quarters be? Or Lady Mimsy’s?

But Callay remembered he couldn’t go into either room, and he had no intention of making trouble before he’d had the chance to put himself in front of Lord Gyre.

He cleared out each of the guest rooms until he came to a winding staircase at the end of the hall. Following those up another flight of stairs, he found one last set of floors. The third floor was considerably smaller than the first two and mostly consisted of a set of independent towers at either corner of the manor. One of them housed Lord Gyre’s private study, but Callay had already checked to make sure this wasn’t that one.

Since it wasn’t, Callay figured he should sweep the chamber at the top clean as well. He let out a low yawn. After this he’d be done and he could test out his new bed. He wanted to wake up bright an early tomorrow, perhaps then he'd be able to catch Lord Gyre at breakfast.

With his eyes half-lidded, he gave the door to the sole room at the top of the tower a gentle rap. When nobody answered, Callay figured it was fine to enter. The light enchantments overhead were off, which was the state they tended to remain in unless prodded into wakefulness by the proximity of a living body through some wizardly means. Callay didn’t pretend to understand how the magic worked. He did notice through the room’s windows that the sun had already set, so it was definitely time for bed.

Upon entering, Callay realized the air was warmer in this chamber than in the rest of the manor. So warm in fact that his new tunic felt like too much in this room.

One thing about the manor that Callay was intimately familiar with was how they handled their fires. He quickly found the hearth and pushed a few smoldering logs aside to help stifle the heat. His movement stirred the enchantments overhead into wakefulness, and the room lit with a white glow. When that was done, Callay finally got a good look at the chamber he was cleaning.

The ceilings were high, going right up to a conical roof at the top of the manor. The room was mostly circular, save for the part reserved for the stairs. The parts of the walls that weren’t covered in tapestries or warm fabric were covered in smooth white plaster. The floor was made of smooth tiles. In one corner, there was a dusty tea set covered in cobwebs. But those were just the ordinary features. What caught Callay’s eyes most of all was the giant red symbol painted in the center of the room in dark red ink.

Blood. That symbol is painted in blood.

But what was it? And why was it here?

Once Callay spotted the symbol, he started noticing more strange things here and there. The bookshelf was filled with strange tomes bearing arcane names such as ‘The Art of Bloodletting’, ‘Anatomy of a Vampire’, and ‘The Mysteries of Carnal Magic’.

Callay didn’t know what half those words meant, but he knew they were nothing that belonged in a lord’s tower. Wizards were few and far between, and those that did exist tended to spend their time tinkering with pixie dust and quicksilver or whatever it took to make a light enchantment. But whoever used this room clearly didn’t craft it with the intent to create light enchantments.

Callay’s first instinct was to run screaming from the halls and call for help. But given a little thought, Callay realized that would be a stupid idea. Lord Gyre would have discovered this chamber long ago. After all, it didn’t seem particularly well hidden. It wasn't even locked. That meant whoever used it did so with the lord’s approval.

Maybe Lord Gyre is secretly a warlock?

Callay shivered at the sinister thought and was starting to reconsider his eagerness to beg for a position among Lord Gyre’s retainers.

When the fear ebbed, a new sensation took hold in Callay’s heart. Curiosity.

He didn’t understand magic. But maybe he could...

He'd heard of plenty of wizardly retainers in a lord's retinue. Many nobles favored and doted on their wizards. If Callay had even a ounce of magical talent, his potential for retainer-hood would shoot up a hundred fold.

Sure, these might be books about dark magic, but they were still about magic. There would be no harm in taking a little peak.

Callay glanced at the books on the shelf warily. He could pry one free and peer through it, but what if the shelf was booby-trapped? Magic tomes were valuable, and maybe the warlock who owned this room placed a terrible hex on his books to protect them from prying eyes.

Callay was mustering his courage when he noticed a book lay open upon a plush pink chair in the corner of the room. It struck him as out of place in the laboratory of an evil warlock, but there it was. Callay stepped lightly and gingerly across the floor, as though he was afraid that if he made too much noise the warlock would jump out of the floor itself and turn him into a newt.

The leather tome sitting open on the plush pink chair was titled ‘Activating and Enhancing Your Dormant Magical Power’. Callay flipped it over slowly and carefully. He closed his eyes, wincing as he picked the book up. When it was in his hands and before his face, Callay glanced at his fingers to check that they were all there. When he confirmed that he was still a human and not a newt, he breathed a sigh of relief and began to read the open page.

The Twofold Virgin Sacrifice of Magical Awakening

This ritual utilizes carnal magic to awaken magical abilities. It is considered one of the most potent awakening spells that can be found, and more reliably activates latent magical sensitivity than any other variety of awakening spell. It is not the most common spell for witches and warlocks due to the requirement to remain chaste until their eighteenth birthday before casting, and requires a few rare ingredients. But those who can perform this ritual should do so eagerly.

Requirements:

A circle of magical containment of the third degree or better.

A thimbleful of blood from a succubus or incubus.

Two willing virgins.

The bones of a Bandersnatch.

Callay didn’t have to know what a circle of magical containment was to guess that the thing on the floor in the center of the room was. He didn’t see a thimbleful of succubus or incubus blood, but he imagined there were many places a warlock could tuck such a tiny amount of liquid away.

Two willing virgins were the most curious ingredient.

I guess I would quality to cast this spell.

Callay laughed to himself. He hadn’t had time for women when he was younger. Not with so much work to do as a field hand. Besides, it was the lord who made matches among the field hands, and Lord Gyre hadn’t yet seen fit to pick a wife for Callay. Nor had Callay expressed much interest in one. He didn't intended to chase women until he’d managed to make something more of himself.

But then Callay's heart dropped at the fourth and final ingredient. The Bones of a Bandersnatch.

Good luck finding those.

You could scour the Slithy Toves over and over again and not find something like that. The swamps quickly devoured anything that died with in them.

The only alternative is to find a Bandersnatch and kill it yourself.

Callay laughed at that thought. If someone intended to go hunting for Bandersnatch, they’d best write their own eulogies before they headed off into the Slithy Toves. You didn’t hunt a Bandersnatch. It hunted you.

As he flipped through the pages, Callay heard the creaking of a door downstairs. It was followed by a handful of footsteps that progressively got louder and louder.

Callay’s face paled, and he flipped the book over back onto the cushion. With feathered footfalls, he stepped as hastily as he could to the door and quietly shut it behind him.

“Ah, Callay!” A lovely female voice said. “There you are! What are you doing up there?”

Callay looked down the stairs to find Lady Mimsy standing at the base. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she gazed up the stairs at him with her mouth in a line. She smiled, and the gesture dimpled her cheeks.

“The head maid suggested I could get to know the manor quickly by cleaning it.” Callay replied, fighting to steady his voice.

Lady Mimsy shrugged and strode up the stairs. “Ah, well, she’s certainly quick to put my guests to work. But you can put that broom and dustpan down. I want to show you something before bed.”

Author’s Note:

So now that I’ve written a second chapter of this story and done a little more prep work, I’ve got a decent idea of what it’s about and I’m brainstorming a proper title.

It’s going to be a bit of a social-climber story going from minor lord to powerful wizard emperor with a bit of magic and monster hunting thrown in. A few more chapters and a bit more background work and things will firm up more. I'm pretty certain I'll need to redraft some of this early stuff once I've got a grip on the story, but I like where it's heading enough to continue writing, at least for a few more chapters. Let me know what you think in the comments.