23. Benjin #2
“And hurt Haldric instead? The prince is like a son to me! I’ve watched him grow from an inquisitive boy into the competent young man he is today.
” Dexil glanced toward the door and raised a brow.
“Besides, I just came from the king’s bedchambers.
Had I wished to murder Roland, I could’ve done so at any time. Same with Haldric.”
Deflating, Benjin bowed his head. “All right, fine. You don’t wish me or the royal family harm.” He raised his satchel, shaking it by the strap. “Then tell me why you requested the makings of an incredibly potent memory alteration curse!”
Surprise flickered over the Grand Magus’ face, so quickly Benjin almost missed it. “That is my business and mine alone.” He held out a hand. “Give me the parcel.”
Benjin stubbornly clutched the satchel tight against his chest. “Not until you tell me what this is really about.”
The usual warmth in Dexil’s violet eyes fled, leaving them hard flecks of amethyst. For a moment, Benjin feared the Grand Magus was about to unleash runeflame upon him.
Even with his own raw strength and the Grand Magus’ preference for potions over battle magic, Benjin doubted he’d be able to withstand an onslaught from the more experienced mage.
Relief flooded him when Dexil simply nodded. His expression turning weary, he sank into a chair, gesturing for Benjin to do the same. “What do you know of my past?”
Benjin hesitantly took the offered seat. “Not much. Only that you studied at the Arcanum and you’re lowborn, like me.”
“Indeed. I was born in a small town in the western province of Weatheford. My parents were traveling merchants, so I grew up on the road, never staying in one spot very long. They didn’t have much, but that didn’t stop them from sparing what they could for others whenever we set up shop.
Gallants mattered little to them. So long as they had enough to keep us fed and clothed, they were content. ”
His sad smile tore at Benjin’s heart. “I was sixteen when a local baron arrested them. He claimed that they had aided a group of revolting commoners by offering them free food and clothes and had them hung in the village square.” His eyes bored into Benjin, his expression pained.
“You know something of what that’s like, don’t you? ”
Benjin’s gut roiled as he jerked a nod. While his own experience of noble cruelty hadn’t been quite as bad, it had still served as a lesson in just how little they cared about anyone they deemed beneath them.
“I sold off everything my parents had left, including their wagon,” Dexil continued.
“It was the only home I’d ever known, but I couldn’t stand staying there without them in it.
Those coins bought me a one-way trip to Astralyn, where I worked to earn a spot in the Arcanum.
I’d discovered a knack for magic years earlier, you see, while perusing some of the oddities my parents acquired.
Though like you, I was capable of little more than parlor tricks before the Arcanum. ”
His fierce grin radiated pride. “Once I finished my studies, I considered remaining in Astralyn and dedicating myself to alchemical research. Yet, something drew me back to Ilthabard.” He chuckled, though something in it sounded off to Benjin.
“I suppose some of my parents’ ideals must’ve rubbed off on me.
Or perhaps it was nothing so noble. Though I told myself I was there to help the people who needed it most, I accepted a position with the very baron who executed my parents.
And…well, let’s just say I ensured he would never commit such an atrocity again. ”
Benjin shivered at the coldness in the Grand Magus’ voice. By the Goddess…
“From there, I worked to rise through the ranks of Ilthabard’s mages, playing at politics to improve my standing until I met Prince Roland. He gave me a position with the royal family here in Revesole, where I’ve been ever since.”
“Why?” Benjin asked as the Grand Magus fell silent. “Why return to Ilthabard and stay here all these years instead of seeking a fresh start somewhere else?”
“I wanted to help the people of Ilthabard however I could. To better their lives. And from here, I can. My position in the palace affords me the unique opportunity to affect real change.”
Unease rippled through Benjin. At last, they’d reached the crux of the matter. “What do you mean by change?”
The Grand Magus’ expensive silk robes rustled as he extended his bejeweled hand, twisting it to the side so that his rings glinted in the light. “Do you know why I dress the way I do?”
Benjin blinked, taken aback by the non sequitur. “W-what?”
“It’s to remind myself of the decadence I came here to stop.
So that I never forget where I’ve come from, where I am…
or where I intend to go.” He squeezed his extended hand into a fist, unbothered by the rings that must have been cutting into the flesh of his palm.
“When I first arrived at the palace, vengeance still drove me. I wanted to rip out the system that had allowed a monster like that baron to fester. Yet after meeting Prince Roland, I began to doubt my chosen course. Perhaps not all nobles were irredeemable after all. I decided to persuade and guide him—to improve his efforts on behalf of the commonfolk. But while I’m certain my advice has had some manner of impact, it was never enough. ”
Dexil rose, drifting toward his desk. “And so, I began to make new arrangements. That attack on your caravan might not have been my doing, but you’re right in suspecting my involvement with certain…
extreme elements. I’ve spent years now fostering support, maneuvering my pieces into place.
The governors think they have things under control.
They are wrong. Soon, Ilthabard shall have its glorious revolution, but it will be a far cry from the one Westley and his ilk envision. ”
Benjin felt sick to his stomach. Dexil had been like a mentor to him, or the father he’d never had. And all the while, he’d been using Benjin to plot Haldric’s downfall. Another thought occurred to him, his eyes straying to the half-brewed potions lining Dexil’s workstation.
“All those potions you’ve been giving the king to cure him…there’s no Void corruption at all, is there? You’ve been poisoning him!”
Dexil whirled, his violet eyes flaring. “Of course not! Have you listened to a Void-cursed word I’ve said?
For all his other faults, Roland is my friend.
I would never do anything to harm him, nor his son.
I’ve done all I can to prolong his life and ease his suffering, waiting to enact my plan until he dies.
As for the prince…” He gestured to Benjin’s clutched satchel.
“Were you not just wondering why I went through all the trouble of commissioning such a spell?”
“Haldric,” Benjin whispered, horror squeezing him.