“Are you starting to feel the magic?”
“Magic!” Mako interrupted with a hint of irritation. “Are you speaking as a sorcerer, Captain?”
“No, true magic! The magic of being at one with the spirit and the mind of the horse… it is possible if you spend the time.”
“I have not invested enough time as yet,” said Scylla. “I looked into her eyes, though, and her face seems kindly. I call her Browny.”
“When horses travel in a herd together, they can move as one… like a flock of birds. But the magic is when you and your horse are in tune. The horse feels your mind and you feel the horse’s mind. Would you not agree, Chancellor?”
“I suppose. Except for the times I’ve been kicked, bitten and thrown off.”
“Please do not tell me that, Chancellor.”
“Most horses come to an understanding… eventually.”
“Your horse is easy in comparison,” Coltic said to Scylla. “You will soon see for yourself.”
“The magic seems more possible than when you first mentioned it.” Scylla reached down with one hand and gave Browny a pat on her shoulder, the way she had seen some riders do.
“The spruce tree is there,” said Jay some minutes later, pointing. “We slept under the branches… and the spring is nearby.” He ran ahead.
A moment later he stopped in his tracks, recoiling with a cry.
“What is it?” Mako urged his horse forward, and Coltic and Scylla trotted up behind.
“Look at the spring… it’s ruined! Dear Goddess, I am so sorry!” he wailed.
Someone had kicked the stones apart and destroyed the pool. Black muck, leaf mold and a heap of horse droppings befouled the remaining trickle of water. Dead sticks and uprooted weeds were heaped over it. No one would have guessed the tumbled stones had previously ringed a trickling spring.
“The Goddess’s face is smashed,” said Jay sadly, picking up a fragment of the carving.
“Who did this?” Scylla exclaimed. She dismounted and hobbled over to join Jay beside the ruins of the spring, using saplings for support.
“I suspect our thief, the physician,” Mako said. He and Coltic had also vaulted to the ground. “Vindictive or sacrilegious destruction of the life-source… as Zara calls it.”
“Chancellor, would you hold the horses?” said Coltic calmly. “Jay and I will restore the spring.”
Scylla moved a few steps away. Jay set the piece of stone aside and removed the sticks and other debris. He and Coltic scooped out mud and manure until the pure water welled up freely once more. Then they replaced the mossy stones that had defined the pool.
“It’s not the way it was,” said Jay critically. “Put this one here and switch those two.”
“Here is a piece of the Goddess carving, I believe,” said Coltic, brushing dirt off it.
“And here is another.” Scylla reached down to retrieve a third fragment, half hidden by dead leaves. “Place them at the back, where she stood before. We will have a new one carved.”
The daylight was starting to go. Coltic and Jay stood back critically and inspected the spring.
“Well, it is not what it was before,” said Jay with disappointment. He pulled a coin from his clothing and tossed it into the water. It broke the surface with a tiny plop. “Dear Goddess, please forgive the one who did this!”
“We need to return to the lodge,” Mako called from the trail where the horses had begun to fidget.
“We will come back,” Scylla told Jay, who looked mutinous. “But it will be dark soon.”
Coltic helped her back on the horse. He said to Jay, “Mount up, lad. This is not my horse, and the stirrups are too short. I will walk with the queen’s horse.” Jay climbed to the saddle and picked up the reins. They started back toward the lodge.
There was a sudden sense of movement behind them, and Scylla flinched, turning her head quickly.
“We are back, Queen Scylla,” said a familiar quiet voice. Dunlin and the other travelers had trotted up silently behind them.
“The spring was destroyed, gentlemen,” Scylla told them. “The captain and Jay have tended to the damage, and we shall return to finish it later.”
“Where did this other horse come from?” asked Mako, eyeing a larger horse at the rear of the pack. It carried a saddle and a pair of well-stuffed saddlebags, and showed the whites of its eyes.
“We found it tied to a tree, back a ways. It was there too long… it pawed a deep hole and gnawed the bark.”
“Oh?”
Instead of replying, the spokesman held out three small books. Mako reached out and gingerly accepted them.
From the cover of one, he read, “Spell-Book. And the other two are handwritten notes. These were stolen from our vault.” He looked up, a question in his eyes. “There was another one, the book of magic…”
“We believe the magician carries it with him. These were in the saddlebags.”
“Thank you, gentlemen,” said Mako. “If he left the horse tied to the tree, where has he gone?”
“We lost his trail. Our watchers are distressed by the magician’s activities.”
“What is he doing?” asked Scylla.
“Yesterday his attempts created disruptive weather.”
“Yes, we had a violent storm—with rain, winds and distant thunder.”
“He has accomplished what he wanted. He returned today to the same place… he has split open a passage through the mountain.”
The wind swirled through the leaves overhead. The horses walked on, their footfalls thudding on the forest floor. Mako seemed stunned, and Coltic’s face wore an almost comical expression of surprise.
Scylla tried to make sense of the man’s words. “Split open a passage?”
“Into the next realm, Queen Scylla.”
“Do you mean Gryor?”
“We do not call the eastern lands by that name—but yes.”
“You seem very calm about this… this accomplishment!” Lines deepened between Mako’s brows, and he glared at the spokesman.
“Gentlemen, our chancellor finds himself disturbed by the rising tide of magic… as he should be. I, however, was a sorcerer earlier in my life.” Coltic’s chuckle seemed out of place but was also, oddly enough, a relief. “Is this the same passage shuttered during the reign of King Belrin?”
There was an even longer pause. The group moved on beneath the canopy of branches.
“We believe so. It is now passable… if one knows of it.” said Dunlin.
“If the wolves of Gryor find it, we are ashes,” Mako said bitterly. “Dust beneath their feet!”
“A curse is attached to that passage: he who is unlucky enough to unshutter it will pay the price!” Coltic quoted cheerfully. “Did the magician travel through?”
“No, he returned here… or at least to where he left his horse.”
“… which is packed for travel,” Mako spoke up. “What else is in those bags?”
“Clothing, food and things of a medical nature. A few more books.”
Mako said, “He was the late queen’s physician. We did not realize he had involved himself with the priests’ faction as well. I am told he was the son of a fisherman and hated the sea. Can I now draw the conclusion he seeks to leave the kingdom by land?”
“By land and magic,” Coltic agreed. “He was a more accomplished mage than we knew. I wonder what else is in that book of magic!”
“What curse is attached to the passage?” Scylla asked.
Coltic glanced at her face. “Madness… he who unshutters the passage will descend into madness… sooner rather than later.”
Mako sighed and shook his head as if to clear it of Coltic’s words. “Tell me, were there coins in his saddlebags?”
“We found none.”
“Ah,” said Mako. “Perhaps he has gone back to the lodge in search of treasure once more! Jay, you stay back with the captain and Queen Scylla! Dunlin, gentlemen… accompany me!”
12
Jay controlled his horse with a hand trained to his hard-headed pony. Scylla felt Browny quiver beneath her, and Coltic calmed the animal with a quiet word.
“Good Goddess!” said Scylla. “Would Greyel go back to the lodge on foot… with soldiers coming and going?”
“There was more damage to the interior. We suspect he uncovered at least one hidden vault. Perhaps he went back for the contents. He did not, however, find what we did.”
Scylla silently indicated Jay, who was riding ahead. Coltic returned a wink. “That door was undisturbed,” he said in an undertone. “But Renold and I left a few men on site and rode out to search. Greyel may have circled back. I will slip down and check the cellar once more.”
Scylla nodded. “A madman should not be in possession of that book… nor have access to the cellar. Imagine!” She tipped her head back and looked up. The sky was darkening.
Browny moved calmly and quietly beside Coltic. Scylla stared down at the nodding head on its long neck before her, with the silky mane lifting in the breeze, and the pointed ears occasionally swiveling to the sides. The horse had a warm, comforting presence that Scylla had begun to recognize and even value.
“The physician may wander anywhere,” said Coltic lightly. His pace did not quicken. “Princess, if I tell you to go, ride back to the castle as fast as you can and take the boy with you.”
Scylla’s hand went unbidden to the hilt of her sword. Her eyes met the captain’s nervously.
“Do what I say, Princess. I am more of a match for a mad magician than you.”
“I rely upon you, Captain! And the Goddess is with us, I am sure.” Her hand went nervously to her braid, and she loosened the plait, fingering the silken strands free. Meanwhile, her glance slid sideways, and she turned to check the forest behind them.
“Do you see anything?” asked Coltic, without altering his stride.
“No,” she admitted. “Truthfully, I was more impressed by the physician’s leeches than the man himself. Lead on, Captain!”
Scylla heaved a sigh of relief when she saw the lodge through the fringes of the forest. Soldiers tended to horses in the gathering dusk while others stood guard along the edges of the clearing. The travelers had dismounted and stood in a tight knot near the trees. Jay slid off the horse, handing it back to its owner. Scylla and Browny left the gloom of the forest, with Coltic’s hand still on the rein.
“No excitement here, Princess,” he said. “Where is the chancellor, I wonder?”
Scylla looked up. The sky was like a bruise, showing unpleasant streaks of purple, gray, and deep blue against a pasty shade of yellow. She had an unsettled feeling. A slight ripple of wind fluttered the leaves all around, and in the distance there was yet another roll of thunder.
“I feel suddenly uneasy,” she said to Coltic. “Do you feel it?”
He was silent and still, listening. Mako came out the door and gave them a wave.
Then a figure emerged from the forest path and drew all eyes, Scylla’s included. A bent old crone shuffled across the grass using a knobby stick for a cane. She was dressed in antiquated clothing—heavy skirts that brushed the ground and a rough cloak over her shoulders. Her hair, in dingy silver strands, hung past her shoulders. Piercing blue eyes under a craggy brow inspected her audience one by one, with an enormous cynicism.
“Good evening, Mother Tercue!” Coltic spoke up, as cheerful as ever, as the odd figure made its way past Scylla’s horse.
“Greetings, lad,” came the rasping answer. “As good an evening as could be, I s’pose!”
“Good to see you out and about,” Coltic said.
“And you, lad!” The crone raised her knobby stick in farewell and kept moving. She passed the far corner of the lodge and disappeared.
Mako had frozen in surprise at the sight of the woman. He cleared his throat and came over to Coltic.
“Captain. Who was that?”
“The crone Tercue,” he said. “She is from these parts.”
“Is she? I have never laid eyes on her before.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have, Chancellor. She has been dead for half a century.”
Mako gave his head a shake. He stared off into the middle distance, his brows twitching together. “Whatever you say, Captain… Good Goddess,” he muttered in disgust.
Scylla smothered a laugh. “Carry on, Chancellor! Is there any sign of the physician?”
“The physician,” repeated Mako. “Ah… no, Princess, none.” His eyes went once more to the corner of the building, where the old woman had vanished. Then he turned his back on it with something close to a shudder. “No, none. The soldiers are searching every corner and closet of the lodge. Except the cellar,” he added in an undertone. “Captain, you and I will inspect the cellar.”
Scylla dismounted. “Go ahead, Captain.”
Coltic stripped the saddle from Browny and handed Scylla the horse’s lead. “Let her graze on the grass like the others.” He and Mako strode into the arched doorway. Scylla leaned on her sword stick. Her ankle throbbed but as that was nothing new, she paid little attention to it.
There was another ripple in the air. Insignificant... or was it? Scylla turned her head slowly from side to side, her eyes traveling around the clearing. What was it?
“Queen Scylla.”
She started. “Yes?”
Dunlin of the forest folk approached her. “We are leaving now. We will continue our watch. If we find the magician, we will return.”
“It is almost dark.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Be careful.”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “We will return.”
“Thank you.” She sent an uneasy glance toward the lodge’s doorway, where Coltic and Mako had gone. When she looked back a moment later, the travelers and their horses were vanishing into the gloom of the forest as they had before.
But the air seemed to thicken. Tension… why was there so much tension? It was intolerable.
“Jay!” she called out to the boy who was allowing the pony to graze. “Take Browny… I am going inside.”
She handed the line over and hobbled to the door, holding her breath as she entered. Not that she could hold it for long. She drew in a shallow breath.
“What a stench!” She pinched her nostrils closed and breathed through her mouth as she stepped carefully across the floor. Even more of the floor was ripped up, displaying dark gaps between the joists. Her sword stick clanked against the boards.
“Princess! Is that you?” she heard a faint voice from below: Coltic.
“I am coming to the cellar!” she called back. She found her way to the king’s private reception room, passing damaged walls and piles of debris and old weapons. The door to the cellar stood open, and she peered downward. Candlelight flickered, and shadows flared in response. “Captain? Chancellor!”
“We are searching the wine stacks,” Mako’s voice floated to her ears.
“Watch your step on the stairs,” Coltic warned, from somewhere deeper in.
As she recalled from her previous visit, the steps were wide and even. She found the handrail and descended.
Broken bottles still lay on the floor as before, although the dark puddles of wine had seeped away and dried. Scylla reached the floor and looked around. Coltic and Mako systematically moved through the stacks, candlesticks held high and eyes sweeping back and forth.
“Listen for any movement,” Mako directed her tersely. “Even a mouse.”
Scylla retreated to the bottom step and held her skirts around her protectively. She listened. All she could hear were quiet footfalls and breathing as the two men searched the cellar’s expanse. Branches of lit candelabra hung from each support post, and occasionally the tiny flames sputtered.
She heard the wind rising outside. Somewhere upstairs a window rattled, and the building creaked and sighed.
&n
bsp; “Is that another storm blowing in?” Mako said to no one in particular.
Would they spend the night trying to sleep in the hunting lodge—or spend long, dark, wind-whipped hours traveling back to the castle? Neither option was more appealing than the other. Scylla shifted her weight, and the stair creaked.
“What was that?” said Mako instantly.
“It was I.”
Finally, they stepped away from the wine racks. Coltic said, “Only a rat could have escaped us. Did you spot even the shadow of a rat, Princess?”
“No… but my sword is at the ready, as you see!” She showed them the gleaming blade. Her voice dropped. “Have you checked the door to the king’s hoard?”
“We inspected the corner,” said Mako. “The door seems undisturbed. Next we searched through the stacks in case he had concealed himself there. Are you coming, Princess?”
She slid the sword back into its sheath. “I suppose so,” she sighed. She stepped back to the floor and followed Mako and Coltic past the ancient walls jutting out in the far corner, those remaining from the original, much smaller building.
“A question, Captain,” said Mako as they approached the old stone wall with its bricked-over door.
“Yes, Chancellor?”
“How is it possible that a woman dead for half a century has come walking by? Are you mad, or did I misunderstand you?”
“Princess, did you see the crone?”
“I did… but please do not discuss it here!” Scylla protested, keeping her glance away from the dark corners. Mako and Coltic ignored her.
“The queen saw her, you saw her, and I spoke to her. It was Mother Tercue, who has been dead these many years. How it is possible, I cannot say.”
“She did not look dead… she appeared very much alive,” said Mako. Then he tilted his head, listening intently. “What was that?”
“I heard something…” With sudden interest, Coltic faced the wall as if he were trying to see through it.
“Heard what?” Scylla said indignantly. “Gentlemen, please!”
A muffled voice spoke from beyond the stones.
“I thought I heard a voice,” Mako said.
The Queen and the Mage Page 30