The Choice of Magic

by Michael G. Manning

  It turned out he was wrong, however. After they marched him down the long, winding stairs he was pushed into a tiny, damp cell and chained to a wall. When the door shut, moments later, there was no light to be seen. Days of absolute darkness without food or water taught him that there were indeed things worse than the food in the Branscombe lockup.

  Epilogue

  The door to his cell opened, and the rush of light that entered brought tears to his eyes. Two men, ordinary servants by the look of them, entered and unchained him from the wall. They grunted when they pulled him to his feet.

  “This is a shame,” said one of them. “They should have taken it off him.”

  Will clutched his right hand, trying desperately to hide his ring, but a second later he realized they were talking about his mail. Looking down, he could see that it had gone brown with rust. One of the men lifted his arms, and they carefully helped him out of the armor. Then they carried him along, helping him with the stairs, for his legs had gone wobbly.

  “How long was I in there?” he asked.

  “Three days,” said one of the men.

  “Am I to be whipped to death now?” asked Will, almost hopeful. Anything had to be better than the endless, gnawing darkness he had endured.

  The other man chuckled, “Not until you meet the king.”

  Will squeezed his eyes shut. “That’ll be nice,” he droned sarcastically.

  From there he was taken for a bath. His clothing was taken, and he heard one of the servants instructing the other to have it burned. He wanted to ask about his mail. It still meant something to him, but he supposed that since he was about to die, he would have to let it go. As before, no one mentioned the ring on his finger, but he was past wondering about it by then.

  Scrubbed and washed, he was toweled dry by several older women who seemed used to the task. They combed his hair, and one of them produced a pair of scissors to trim it for him. At least I’ll die clean, thought Will. They dressed him in the finest tunic and trousers he had ever worn.

  They were dyed in shades of red and gray. “What are these made of?” Will asked, marveling at the softness of the fabric.

  “Linen,” one of the women told him. He didn’t believe her, though. Linen couldn’t be that soft and fine. He knew better.

  He was given warm wool socks and cloth shoes were put on his feet. Will liked the feel of them, but they weren’t very practical. One step outdoors and they would be quickly ruined. He said as much, but no one was listening to him.

  Next they fed him and offered him his choice of either small beer or water. He chose the water, since he was so thirsty, he felt sure he was about to die, and he didn’t think his stomach could have tolerated much else. After a small meal a guard led him into a sumptuous room with cushioned chairs and left him to his own devices.

  The chairs were more comfortable than anything he had ever sat upon, but he was tired, so he curled up on the rug and within moments, he was asleep. After an unknown period, he heard a sound, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a man standing over him.

  The man was dressed in a similar fashion to Will, though his clothing had embroidery around the edges and a massive gold chain hung around his neck. His hair and beard were a glossy brown, and when he smiled Will couldn’t help but think he had rarely seen someone so good looking, of either gender.

  Except Selene.

  “Hello,” Will said muzzily.

  “Are you comfortable?” asked the man. “Should I get you a pillow?”

  “No, I’m fine,” said Will. “This rug is more comfortable than you might think.”

  The man began to laugh, long and loud, his voice resonant and hearty. “Might I ask why you are on the floor?”

  Will’s brain was beginning to work properly, thanks to the food he had eaten, but he wasn’t ready to give up hope. “I’m waiting on the king,” he answered.

  “And is this how one waits on his king?”

  Will nodded slowly. “If one is very tired.” Inside, he was beginning to feel a sense of panic. It’s him. It’s King Lognion, and I’m lying on his floor.

  Graciously, the king bent and held out his hands. Will took them, and the monarch helped him to his feet, then gestured to one of the chairs. “Please, sit. When we’re done, I can offer you something much better to sleep upon.”

  Will struggled to think. “Is it—is it, a coffin, Your Majesty?”

  The king laughed again. “Certainly not!”

  “I don’t mind, honestly,” said Will. “The past few days have been…difficult, Your Majesty.”

  The king’s eyes grew serious. “I only recently learned you were here. For that, I feel a sense of responsibility. The proper reports didn’t reach me soon enough. You have endured a great deal because of that.”

  Will couldn’t believe his ears. Why was the king being so courteous? “The Royal Marshall’s report?”

  King Lognion nodded. “That one, among a few others. It seems the marshal was too hasty to judge you. Terabinia owes you a great deal for what you’ve done.”

  “Then I’m not to be executed, Your Majesty?”

  The king smiled. “Not today, at any rate. I won’t make any promises about the future, but it seems unlikely. I’d like you to tell me of your experiences, leaving nothing out.”

  Will started, and then started again when the king asked him to start farther back, beginning with his training in wizardry. Will grew more nervous then, for he wasn’t sure how King Lognion knew to ask about that. It had to be Selene. He tried to remember how much he had told her. A mistake at this point might be disastrous.

  He started with a brief description of his childhood, leaving out any mention of Lord Nerrow, then moved on to his apprenticeship with Arrogan, though he omitted his grandfather’s name. The king stopped him at that point.

  “You didn’t give your grandfather’s name.”

  “Bartholomew,” said Will hastily. “I’m not entirely sure he’s even my grandfather. That’s just what he told me. None of my cousins believed it.”

  “Go on,” said the king.

  He did, though he left out the details of his training and moved on to his time in the Terabinian army. He described his exploits in the army and then moved on to how he had met Selene and how they had eventually left to destroy the Patriarch’s supply line. When he glossed over the journey back to Barrowden, the king frowned.

  “You left out any mention of the journey through Faerie,” said King Lognion, his voice edging toward anger.

  Fuck. Will retraced his steps, including the trip through the congruence point, explaining that the presence of the goddamn cat kept that part of the other realm safe from the fae. King Lognion laughed at Will’s name for the beast, but he claimed ignorance of the creature’s true name, chalking it up to yet another mystery his grandfather had left behind.

  “And you say this thing hates sorcerers?” interrupted the king.

  He hadn’t said anything of the kind, but again Will knew Selene must have given her father that information. Will nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty, though I don’t know why.”

  “That’s a shame,” said the monarch. “Such a shortcut would be immensely useful. I almost wonder if we could kill the beast, but that would render the path useless, wouldn’t it? Since the fae would no longer need to avoid the area. Please, continue.”

  Will did, regretfully including the information that his family was living in seclusion. There was no way he could hide that fact, since Selene had obviously told her father everything. Lognion nodded, waving his hand to urge Will onward. He didn’t seem interested.

  He told the rest without much editing, except to say that he didn’t fully understand how he had been able to turn the fire elementals’ attacks back against their owners. He also omitted Tailtiu’s assistance with his escape. Thus far he had said nothing about the fae, and he prayed that Selene hadn’t mentioned his one remark about learning the trick to seeing in the dark from one of them.

  He
was relieved when King Lognion accepted his story and smiled, but his stomach dropped when the king spoke next. “You are a remarkably brazen liar, William Cartwright. Not many would have the balls to attempt to hide things from me, especially given the fact that you already know how good my information is.”

  Will grew perfectly still, and he and the king fell into a staring contest that he knew he was doomed to lose.

  But he didn’t. The king spoke first. “I know a lot more about your charming grandfather, Bartholomew, than you may realize. Is he truly dead?”

  He felt as though the breath in his chest would explode, and Will exhaled loudly. “Yes, Your Majesty. He’s dead. I buried him myself.”

  “More good news, then,” said King Lognion. “Now, if you’ll be patient, I’ll list all the reasons I have for executing you.”

  Will shut his eyes in defeat. I knew it.

  “Unlicensed wizardry, harboring and giving aid to a fugitive wanted by the Crown, possible warlockry, desertion of duty, insubordination and disrespect to your superior officer, kidnapping and trying to seduce my daughter—”

  “I didn’t!”

  Lognion held up one finger, silencing him. “Perhaps, but you admit the rest, don’t you?”

  “Not warlockry,” said Will stubbornly.

  “Yet I can see their mark on you!” The king lifted his hand and prodded Will’s forehead. “You wouldn’t have received that without making a significant bargain.”

  “It wasn’t warlockry,” insisted Will. “I didn’t bargain with anything that was not mine to give.”

  The king studied him for a moment. “Arrogan’s lessons must have been thorough. Not many understand the difference. What am I going to do with you?”

  Will lowered his eyes. “Something that doesn’t involve being whipped to death, hopefully.”

  “Answer one more question,” said the king. “You say you’re not a warlock because you haven’t bargained anything that doesn’t belong to you, but many warlocks only sell their own souls. If they aren’t bargaining with someone else’s life, how is that evil?”

  Will had been giving that considerable thought, and he hoped the answer he had was the right one. “Because the soul doesn’t belong to anyone. It belongs to the universe. No one has the right to give or sell it.”

  King Lognion nodded. “Not how I would have worded it, but good enough. Based on that and what Selene has said, I don’t believe you’ve prostituted your soul. I’m almost tempted to debate you on your arrogant claim that sorcery is evil, but your opinion means nothing to me on that matter. That leaves only one matter to be settled.”

  Will waited.

  “You lied to me, William, not once, but several times during our conversation. As a ruler, I cannot abide lies.” Will could see something akin to anticipation in Lognion’s eyes.

  “Forgive me—” he began to say, but Lognion leaned forward with unbelievable speed, and Will felt something slam into the side of his head. The force of the blow was so great that he flew backward, causing the chair to tip, spilling him onto the floor.

  Will tried to focus his eyes, and he saw the king staring at his own fist. The skin across his knuckles had split, and blood was dripping from them, but the look on the man’s face was one of contentment. Will shivered.

  “That’s better,” said King Lognion, standing and offering Will his hand once more. “I didn’t break your jaw, did I?”

  “No, Your Majeshty,” said Will, having difficulty forming the words.

  “Excellent. Now that the air has been cleared, perhaps we can be friends. Just be sure to never lie to me again. The second lesson won’t be so pleasant.”

  “Yes, Your Majeshty.”

  “You will be enrolled in Wurthaven’s College of Wizardry. Something you should have done when your father first attempted to convince you to go there. This is my gift and my judgment for you. You must be trained properly if you are to serve me well,” said Lognion.

  The king’s eyes twinkled as he looked at Will. “You didn’t think I knew? Selene figured it out years ago. I would caution you to make sure no hint of it gets past your lips. If Duke Arenata discovered the fact, it I doubt even my protection could save you. He’s very protective of his sister.”

  “His sister?”

  “Mark Nerrow’s wife, Agnes Arenata.”

  Will couldn’t understand such vindictiveness. “Does it really matter so much if I’m his bastard son?”

  King Lognion nodded. “Agnes has given him two daughters, Laina and Tabitha, but no sons. Your existence could endanger their inheritance.” He moved closer and put his arm around Will’s shoulder in an almost fatherly manner. “Don’t worry, though. I won’t tell him. I have great hopes for your usefulness in the future. I never waste good men.”

  “Uh, thank you, Your Majesty.”

  The king smiled. “That’s it then. I’ll keep you a few days. Feed you and fatten you up, then I’ll send you off to Wurthaven. A servant will show you to your room. You look as though you could use some rest.” He started to turn away.

  Will had one more question, though. “Um, Your Majesty?”

  Lognion paused. “Yes?”

  “How is Selene? I’ve been worried about her since she vanished.”

  The king’s eyes darkened. “I almost forgot. She’s currently being reeducated after her recent mistakes. I don’t think she’ll be out in public for a while. I’m sure you’ll eventually see her, but you need to understand your place when you do.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Lognion leaned closer. “When you see her, you are to say one thing, and one thing only. Listen carefully.”

  Will waited patiently.

  The king continued, speaking slowly and putting emphasis on each word, “I—know—who—you—are.”

  Will stared at Lognion in confusion.

  “That’s it,” said the king. “I know who you are. Tell her that and she’ll understand. If she says anything else, walk away. She’s been doing this for years, assuming secret identities and learning about life in the kingdom. Usually she undertakes these tasks at my behest, but I’ve drilled into her the importance of one rule. No one must know who she is. If they learn, that’s the end of it. It wouldn’t do to have her growing attached to people beneath her station. Nor would it benefit you to think that you could mean anything to her.”

  Will nodded slowly.

  “Those words are a little joke she and I have developed over the years. Once she hears you say them, she’ll understand that your little friendship has come to an end,” said the king.

  His heart felt cold, but he answered, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  The king started to leave again, but he looked back one more time and pointed at Will. “Don’t forget! I know who you are.” Then he left, humming a playful tune as he went out the door.

  Will stared after him. In his mind he remembered something Selene had told him. “Once you know, we won’t be able to be friends anymore.” Was this what she had been referring to? How long had she lived like this? How many times had she heard those words? I know who you are. It was a cruel joke, and he wanted to weep for her.

  He stared down at his hand where the gold ring still lay on his finger. It was the only thing the king hadn’t noticed. The sole thing he had been able to hide. His mind was a confused jumble, and there were only two things he was sure of. The king terrified him, and the king was completely mad.