Psychicians

by Laurence Dahners

  ***

  Norman Soh returned to the kitchen with a stack of plates. As he added them to the sink full of plates his sister Fayeli was washing, he announced the dining room was nearly empty. Leaning closer to Fayeli, he quietly asked, “Would you cover for me if I took the morning off?”

  Her head turned sharply toward him, “It’s my day.”

  Trying not to snap back, he said, “I know. That’s why I’m asking you.” Knowing she wouldn’t do it out of the goodness of her heart, he sighed and said, “Five coppers.”

  She stared at him for a moment. He expected her to make some comment about how hard he normally pinched his coppers. Instead, she said, “Twenty.”

  “Twenty?! That’s crazy!”

  She shrugged, “I was looking forward to having the morning off.”

  Closing his eyes and dropping his head, Norman said, “Ten.”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Twelve,” he said resignedly, digging in his pocket. “It’s hard to accept the fact that a hungry mountain lion would be kinder to me than my own sister.”

  She flashed him a brilliant smile, “It wouldn’t be kind to you after you’d screwed it over a few times.”

  Shaking his head in dismay, Norman turned to undertake an even more difficult negotiation. “Daussie, there’s a new caravan out on the grounds. Would you like to go out and look around? I’d buy you an early lunch.”

  Fayeli kicked his ankle, so he moved farther from his sister. To his dismay, Daussie was shaking her head, “I’ve got some reading—” she stopped and looked at her cousin Kazy, then turned back to Norman. Giving him a brilliant smile, she said, “That sounds like fun.”

  ~~~

  Walking down the street with Daussie again felt like a dream come true. Norman’s world always had a somewhat dreamlike quality when he was around Daussie. But when it was just him with her, not the other people at the tavern too, the world felt like it glowed. As they walked, he couldn’t help but notice men turning to look at her. That made him proud, yet angry. Conscious of the way she’d reacted when he’d tried to protect her from a staring, obnoxious man the first time, he carefully didn’t react to their gaping unless they started making comments or whistles. Even then, he restrained himself to simply glaring.

  After they’d gone a few blocks, Norman began to notice that even the women looked at Daussie. He wasn’t quite sure why. He knew some women preferred other women, but he thought some of these might be jealous or simply admiring. If I can get Daussie to love me the way I love her, he wondered, am I going to be able to stand the way everyone’s eyes follow her?

  Up ahead, he heard the tromping sound of a file of the baron’s guardia double-timing down the street. Moments later, they rounded the corner ahead and started down the street toward Norman and Daussie. As were many other people, Norman felt nervous around the guardia’s troops. He stepped forward a little bit to place himself between the troop and Daussie.

  His eyes on them, he didn’t miss it when the leader of the troop turned his head to focus on Daussie. Norman was only irritated at first, but then the man barked a command and the troop crashed to a halt.

  He only had time to think, What?! Then the troop leader was stepping toward Norman. Well, not toward Norman, toward Daussie, partly hidden behind him. This can’t be good, Norman thought.

  The man spoke in a booming voice, “Daussie Hyllis?”

  Norman turned toward her, wanting to tell her to deny who she was. Despite a white face, she was already nodding.

  Norman stepped closer to her, frantically trying to think how to protect her. Behind him, Norman heard the troop leader saying, “By order of the baron, you’re under arrest.”

  Norman spun around. Heart pounding, he demanded to know, “On what charge?!”

  The man transferred his gaze to Norman, “Who’re you?”

  Norman felt Daussie’s hand on the back of his arm. She whispered, “Norman, stay out of this. Just go back to the tavern and tell my family what’s happened.”

  Norman turned his head to give her a wide-eyed look, but then his attention was jerked back to the front by a pricking sensation on his chest. He looked down at three feet of oiled sword, the tip of which was touching him over his breastbone. The soldier growled, “I asked, ‘Who are you’?”

  “N-Norman Soh…”

  “You Sohs are like bugs,” the man said, lip curling. “To be found under every filthy rock in town.”

  Though he very much wanted to turn and run, Norman forced himself to stand his ground, “I asked what the charge was?”

  The tiny pain of the sword-prick on Norman’s chest became a lancing one as the guardsman pushed with the sword. Norman thought the man intended to push him back, but then—to everyone’s astonishment—the sword broke just past its hilt.

  Norman and the guardsman both goggled at the blade as it fell.

  Norman raised a hand to press on the cut over his breastbone.

  The guardsman danced back as the blade bounced off the ground toward his shins.

  Daussie took a painful grip on Norman’s arm. She whispered fiercely, “Do not get yourself killed! Go back to the tavern and tell my family what’s happened!”

  Thinking, What could they possibly do? Norman opened his mouth to protest.

  Daussie leaned close, then threw her arms around him like a lover. As emotions stormed through him, she put her lips against his ear and whispered, “Please! I beg you. This is what I want you to do. No one else can do it for me.”

  The guardsman had just taken a sword from one of his men and was turning back toward Norman, rage in his eyes. Norman backed away, hands up, heart hammering, feeling like a traitor but knowing that nothing else he could do would make a difference.

  The guardsman said, “Yeah. Run, bug!”

  As Norman kept backing away, his eyes swept over the rest of the troop. To a man, they looked unhappy and appalled. Norman realized that he’d served all, or almost all at the tavern. They don’t want to be doing this, he thought.

  Having backed away to a safe vantage, Norman watched until the troop of Guardsman marched away with Daussie ensconced in their midst. Then he turned and ran for the tavern.

  ~~~

  Arriving at the tavern, Norman found a large group of workmen gathered around the junction between the kitchen and the dining room. Patrons were leaving! What the hell’s going on? he wondered as he moved inside looking for Daum or Eva.

  Norman found Daum talking to George Blackstone, owner of the largest construction business in town. “Mr. Hyllis!” he said.

  “Not now Norman,” Daum said, looking irritated.

  “Daussie’s been arrested!”

  Daum’s eyes turned to his, widening. “What?!”

  “Daussie’s been arrested. A troop of guardsmen stopped us in the street, saying the baron had ordered her arrest. I-I tried to…” Norman swallowed, unable to find the words.”

  Daum’s eyes had found the bloody spot in the front of Norman’s shirt. Stepping forward, he lifted the shirt, saying, “What happened here?!”

  Horrified to realize his eyes were filling with tears, Norman said, “The guardsman, he poked me with his sword.” Norman snorted, “His crappy sword. It broke or I’d probably be dead. Daussie said not to argue with them, that I should just come and tell you what’d happened instead.”

  Blackstone said, “His sword broke?!” but Hyllis waved that away as if it were an unimportant detail.

  Daum spoke directly to Norman, “Find Eva, Vyrda, Tarc, and Kazy. Tell them what happened and have them meet me down here!” He turned to Blackstone and said, “Keep working while…” Daum turned back to Norman who was frozen in place, “Go!”

  Startled, Norman turned toward the stairs. As he trotted away, he heard Blackstone say, “Don’t you want to settle this first?”

  “No,” Daum said, “this is why we’re moving.”

  Moving?! Norman wondered.

  ~~~

  Later, when Norman
thought back on that day, he would be struck by a number of things.

   First, that none of the Hyllises seemed the least bit surprised Daussie’d been arrested.

   Second, that his cousin Vyrda didn’t seem surprised either. Also, she’d apparently known the tavern was going to be moved.

   It seemed that everyone but Norman knew the tavern was going to be moved, they just hadn’t known when. That included Nylin, Grace, Denny, and even his little sister Fayeli—who hadn’t returned his coppers even though he hadn’t actually gotten his morning off.

   Next, that none of the Hyllises even blinked when he told them about how the guardsman’s sword had broken, saving his life.

   That Tarc and Kazy were the ones sent off to try to find out what’d happened to Daussie. Though they seemed quite upset about the arrest, nonetheless Daum and Eva stayed at the tavern organizing the move.

   That the tavern was being moved outside the walls of Clancy Vail, which—though no one cared what Norman thought—was just crazy!

   A nice new kitchen, twice as large as the current one, had already been towed out and set up on the site where they were going to put the rest of the tavern. It had two big new stoves already installed.

   He was surprised to learn that, once the rooms of the tavern had been broken apart, they could be towed with many of their non-fragile furnishings still inside, simplifying the move.

   The size of the mule team required to move the rooms was astonishing. He couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve been required if they’d been going uphill instead of down.

  ***

  Tarc trotted up to the baron’s castle out of breath. Kazy hadn’t been able to keep up, but when he checked back over his shoulder he saw she was only about a block and a half behind. Stepping up to the guard station, he said, “I’m looking for my sister. She was arrested.”

  The bored looking guard said, “Name?”

  “Daussie Hyllis.”

  This got a quickly suppressed reaction from the guard. The man looked up, a little surprise in his eyes, as if to see who was talking to him. Then the expression on his face flattened again. “Not here,” he said in a tone Tarc thought was intended to evince boredom, though it didn’t succeed.

  “Come on!” Tarc said, “You didn’t even look at your lists to see.”

  The man gazed steadily into Tarc’s eyes for a moment, then repeated himself, “Not here.”

  Tarc narrowed his eyes, “Are you saying she’s somewhere else?”

  “Not here.”

  Tarc closed his eyes, sending his ghirit into the warren of stone buildings they called a castle even though it didn’t resemble Tarc’s notion of the castles in old stories. It was supposed to contain the guardia’s training complex, its armory, and the jails. There were people in the castle’s rooms all right. Unfortunately, there were lots of them. And Tarc had no way of telling whether any of them were Daussie. He could rule out some who were too big to be his sister, but that still left a lot of warm bodies behind the walls.

  He contemplated some of the painful things he could do to the guard to make him talk. Something as simple as heating a spot on the man’s skin… But, then if I wanted fear to drive him, I’d have to tell him I was the one doing it. And if he just moved farther away from me, I wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. Then if they sent archers…

  Kazy jogged up. Panting, she bent and put her hands on her knees. With a gasp, she said, “She’s not here.”

  Tarc spun, wanting to lash out in his frustration. Seeing how upset Kazy looked, he said, “That’s what the guard says. But…” he tilted his head curiously, “how do we know he’s telling the truth?”

  Kazy held up a finger asking for a moment. She took a few more deep breaths, then stood up and stepped toward the guard, “Where are the baron’s offices?”

  Apparently, the guard was more willing to answer questions from pretty young girls. He motioned to his right with his head, “Around the corner, through the gate, and up the hill a couple of blocks.”

  A look of frustration passed over Kazy’s face, but then smoothed, “Thank you, sir. We’ll try up there.”

  The man said, “You won’t be happy at the office either.”

  Kazy studied him a moment, then said again, “Thank you, sir.” She turned and started for the corner the man had indicated.

  Tarc took a couple of steps to catch up to her. “You’re going to the office? He just said we wouldn’t find her there.”

  “Yeah, I can tell we’re not going to find her there. As he said, the offices are only a couple of blocks away. If she was within four hundred meters, I’d be able to sense her.”

  “So why are we going up there?”

  “Because the baron’s palace is up at the top of the hill, behind the offices. Our friend the guard thinks that’s where she’s actually being held and I think we’ll be within four hundred meters of the palace when we get to the office.”

  “Oh,” Tarc said, thoughtfully. “Why would she be at the palace?”

  Kazy turned and gave Tarc an unhappy look, “Why do you think?”

  “Oh.” Tarc scowled, “That’s where the wives are?”

  Kazy nodded and kept walking up the hill toward the offices. They arrived at another set of stone buildings, these labeled, “Governmental Offices.” Walls joined the buildings to form an impassable barrier. The entrance to the main street up the hill was closed off with a heavy wrought iron fence. A massive gate in the fence had guard houses on either side. Tarc’d been in the big building on the right side with Daum once to pay rents. He knew the building on the left side held a courtroom for trials. He didn’t know what the other “office” buildings were for. Turning to Kazy, he said, “You think we should ask in the court building?”

  Staring at the hill through the wrought iron fencing, Kazy shook her head, “I’m not sure what we’d ask. Daussie is in the baron’s palace at the top of the hill.” She made a small waving motion with her hand, “In the buildings on the right.”

  “We could ask if we can visit her,” Tarc said as if it were obvious.

  “The guy at the gate to the castle knew where she was, but wouldn’t tell us. Do you really think they’re going to let us just drop by for a visit?”

  Frustrated, Tarc said, “Well then, what the hell are we going to do?”

  Eyes still focused on the buildings at the top of the hill, Kazy said, “Go up there and get close enough you can talk to Daussie. We need to make sure she’s okay.”

  “Of course she’s okay! If they’d tried to hurt her there would’ve been an entire troop of dead guardia back down where they arrested her.” He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the aching sensation there, then quietly spoke in an ugly tone, “Don’t know why she didn’t at least break a few arms.”

  The distant look in her eyes still present, Kazy spoke flatly, “Because then they’d know she was a witch. Just protecting Norman by breaking that guardsman’s sword was risky enough.” She turned and narrowed her eyes at Tarc, “You need to get your emotions in control.”

  Pissed, Tarc said, “I thought you weren’t going to listen to us!”

  “I can’t help it when your thoughts are screaming at me!”

  “Daussie’s in danger dammit…!” Tarc paused as a sudden sensation of peace washed over him. Instead of feeling frustrated and wanting to lash out, he suddenly found himself completely focused on solving the problem before them. Proud of himself for getting back on task, he said, “Do you have any ideas about how we might get up there?”

  Kazy gave him a sad little smile. She nodded at a group of people gathered at the gate. “I’m going to make us invisible and we’re going to walk through the gate with the rest of those folks.”

  Feeling mildly surprised that Kazy’s preposterous statement seemed so reasonable, Tarc followed her over and shuffled into the back of the group. Despite the fact that the rest of the group were all well-dressed and official looking, the guards
letting them through didn’t even blink when Kazy and Tarc went through with them.

  As they walked up the hill, Tarc turned to Kazy and said, “We weren’t invisible, you just made the guards ignore us, didn’t you?”

  Kazy nodded, still focused up the hill they were climbing.

  “I didn’t know you could do that.” When Kazy didn’t respond, he found his thoughts wandering. Suddenly he felt a little prickling in his scalp. “Wait! You… you adjusted me back there at the gate, didn’t you?! That’s why I got so calm and focused, isn’t it?!”

  Kazy nodded without looking at him, “You were so wound up I couldn’t think. And, you were contributing nothing to helping get Daussie free. Did you want me to leave you like that?”

  “I thought you weren’t going to adjust anyone without their permission? Or at least some kind of jury approval?”

  She rolled her eyes, “I didn’t ‘adjust’ you. Nothing permanent. I just calmed your little hissy fit so we could actually do something for your sister now instead of waiting around for you to get over your hysterics.”

  Tarc suddenly felt horribly embarrassed about how he’d been acting. Is she making me feel this way too? He shook his head, I’ll worry about that later. Right now we’ve got to find Daussie.

  ~~~

  They were approaching another wall near the top of the hill when six guardsmen came around a corner and almost ran into them. The guardsmen’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise, then suddenly—rather than all focusing on Tarc and Kazy as they had been—their eyes moved off uninterestedly, pointing different directions. Tarc and Daussie stepped over against the building as the guardsmen walked around them and on down the hill.

  When they reached the wall, there were no convenient groups to pass through the gate with. Kazy walked right up to the gate. When a guardsman came out, she said, “We have an appointment with one of the baron’s wives. A clothes fitting.”

  The man looked surprised, but almost immediately began to look more accepting. He lifted a book and a pen. “Your names?”