THE PROMETHEUS MANDATE
“As the well-trained soldier is eager for action, so does the untaught soldier fear it.”
– Vegetius
“So, you’re a war wizard,” Crius said, looking Galè up and down a few times.
“I am,” said Galè.
They spoke in Crius’s office at the palace, which was walled with bookshelves and scroll cabinets stretching to the vaulted timber ceiling twenty feet above them. Crius’s desk was perfectly suited to such a room, made of black wood and dotted with strange skulls, knickknacks, and odd weapons and trophies, the whole thing framed by tapestries sewn with mountain scenes.
Galè was not impressed by opulence.
“What can you do?” asked Crius. “What’s your magic?”
Galè shrugged. “I can throw things,” he said.
“Big things?” asked Crius, interestedly.
“Big things,” agreed Gal
