by Dilland Doe
Then a mug of ale flew over them while a thick, bald man hollered from below. He charged up the stadium seats toward a fan standing to the left of Lizeto.
The charger tackled the man. They each wore colors from opposing teams. The tackler punched repeatedly toward his victim’s head, but he dodged left and right while his body was pinned down. The man’s wife and young son wildly flung their arms and heads at the attacker, scratching and biting him. Their nails and lips ran with blood.
The gap from the man’s charge had not closed yet. A triplet yelled, “Come on, we can get further down!”
They ran down the bleachers until more people blocked their way. Following the herd just wanting to escape, they made their way under the bleachers, then toward the clogged exits that fans slammed through.
Lizeto relaxed just a little bit. They could easily get out now without running into anymore fanatics. The boys pushed toward an exit.
A triplet said, “Wait. My brothers.”
Lizeto spun around, bracing himself against the people behind him trying to get out. They bumped him as they struggled past.
He saw the missing triplets. Theto and Parto squeezed through the crowd toward a girl. The same one from earlier. She stood on top of a concrete block that anchored a column holding up the stands.
Lizeto jerked his head forward. “Damn those fools. Let’s help them.”
Finio already pushed forward, squeezing through the mass of people trying to leave. When they reached the other brothers, the girl stood between them.
Parto and Theto looked into Finio’s eyes, saying in unison, “Brother, let’s get her to safety.”
Lizeto waved them toward him.
A roar came from their right. A mass of brown pushed back a retreating group of yellow. Someone crashed into Finio, who flew to the ground. The retreating Saints fans were breaking from the battle, running from the True Believers who outnumbered them. The rout headed right toward Finio.
Lizeto charged in front of his fallen friend. Men pounded into the stout teenager, but he held his ground. Finio got to his feet, then they both shoved their way toward the exit.
They made it outside where a mass of people ran from the stadium before slowing to a walk. Blocks of soldiers with large shields and clubs formed up in different locations.
Lizeto and Finio glanced around.
Finio pointed. “There!”
As fans ran around them, Parto spoke to the girl. Lizeto and Finio dashed toward them.
“Meet me back here tomorrow at noon,” she said. “I have much to tell you.”
Parto put his hand on his chest. “Me? Because I saved you?”
She gave a soft smile. “I must go now.” Then she disappeared into the fleeing crowd.
Lizeto reached up and slapped Parto’s face. “What’s wrong with you? You don’t even know that girl and you almost got us killed for her.”
Parto gazed over the crowd. “I don’t need to know her to know that I love her.”
Theto then appeared from the masses, scowling at Parto. “What did she say to you?”
Parto shook his head. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”
“Hey! You don’t own her, brother.” Theto leaned into Parto.
Lizeto stood on his tippy toes and stared at both of them. “Shut up the two of you! Let’s go to your place. I’m hungry!”
Ch. 6
Warm rays shown down from the somewhat cloudy sky. Hibberro rocked slightly atop his horse as it walked along the stone road. After procrastinating for a few days, stuffing himself with corn and chicken while hoping he somehow didn’t have to go through with it, he had to act. If he didn’t, the count would.
Hibberro fingered through a handful of papers in a brown folder. Stolen from his brother’s mansion, these writings proved Themeno worked with high beings to create magic.
His brother was quite ingenious about it. When they worked together in developing new spells, Themeno made the breakthrough seventy percent of the time. His ability to figure out new high beings, and how to bring their power into this world, would amaze even the wizards of the east.
Hibberro loved his brother. Why was he turning him in? He shrugged. The decision had been made.
He eventually arrived at a town containing the local inquisition office. White steps led up to the tall white building, which emanated the presence of The Divinity’s power and purity. A majestic inquisitor statue, robes flowing behind it, jutted out from the second story. From one out-stretched arm, the priest-assassin’s long blade extended far in front of the building. The other held a book—the Scripture of Justice.
Hibberro’s horse went up the first few steps.
A guard in a white cape, wearing white armor, holding a white spear, and with the white pommel of his sword on his hip, stepped toward them. “Hey! You can’t bring your horse inside.”
Hibberro tugged on the reins, halting the mount. Putting his hand into his chin, he muttered, “That’s right.” He rubbed his chin a few times. “Ha! How silly of me.”
He threw his leg over the side of the horse. The momentum carried his entire body and he fell face first onto the steps. “Ow!”
He stood and brushed himself off, then took a few paces upward. He froze. “My horse!” The horse stood where it was. He took it appropriately to the stables, then made his way through the building, and eventually arrived at the right office.
A woman behind a desk glanced through the papers as Hibberro described their contents. Her eyes grew wide. She looked at him. “This looks serious. I’ll get this to an inquisitor right away.” She took the papers out of the brown folder, and put them into a white one, then slid it into a folder slot labeled ‘Priority’. There were about five other folders already in there.
Hibberro stared at her as she went back to work, skimming through a stack of papers and separating it into three piles.
She flinched away from him. “Oh, sir. Thank you. That’s all we need from you at the moment. We’ll question you further later. Your address is on file.”
#
Hibberro sat atop his horse, which walked toward his home. He wondered what he should have for lunch. He could afford anything with his new coins! But that was too hard of a decision. I should probably just have one of the servants cut up a chicken and buy some corn from market.
He thought about the papers he had handed over. He had been smart about it. He specifically chose some of their ideas that didn’t pan out. That way they didn’t lose notes on important breakthroughs. He rubbed his hand over his bald head, then into his remaining hair. “Hmmmm.” If his brother was arrested, he wouldn’t be able to use the work anyways. Also, when The Authority raided Themeno’s mansion, they would take all the work.
Maybe I should go there right away and steal the most important papers. Half of them were written by me anyways. He wanted to be sure he didn’t give The Authority anything important. In his mind, he saw the sketches drawn on the notes he had turned in. “Yup.” He nodded. The high being Slynos talked through a chicken they had done the communicator ritual on. They never figured out how to use his power. Slynos didn’t speak much Hyzantrian.
Hibberro thought the high being might have worked through circular mental motions because he spoke in circles. That’s how Hieronian worked. You spin your brain in your head, and much of Hieronian’s power becomes available. It didn’t work for Slynos. Themeno sketched out a few ideas on those papers too. They were clever, but none of them worked. What a waste of the ritual materials and a chicken.
Farm land stretched to his left and right. He scanned the waving wheat on one side, and corn on the other. A peaceful feeling rose within him. Memories of growing up on his dad’s estate with his beloved older brother played in his mind. As a viscount, his dad didn’t have much time for his children, but fortunately, Hibberro had one of the nicest and smartest older brothers possible. Themeno taught him how to ride a horse, helped him with his school lessons, even introduced Hibberro to magic…once it
was clear Hibberro could hear the high beings. “Man. I’d be nothing without my big brother.”
He jerked his head forward. “Oh, shit!”
He flashed his hands in front of his eyes and flexed his fingers toward himself. “What have I done!?
“I love my brother! I must warn him! He needs to escape. The Authority will execute him!”
He kicked his horse and they sped away, the hooves cli-clacking off the stone road.
#
Hibberro leapt off his horse and slammed his shoulder through his brother’s mansion’s door.
“Themenoooooooooo! Theeemeeenoooooooooo!”
He stepped further into the living room. “Theeeeem—”
“Hibb! What? I’m right here.”
Hibberro turned.
Themeno stood holding a half-eaten cornbread muffin in one hand. He pointed toward the door. “You broke the hinge. Couldn’t you have used the knob?”
“Brother, you must flee Hyzantria.” He approached his sibling, slapped both his hands on Themeno’s shoulders, then shook them. “Run, brother, run!”
The muffin fell out of Themeno’s hand and bounced on the floor.
He scowled at it. “Damn it, Hibb.”
Releasing his brother, Hibberro shook his hands in front of his face. “You’ve got to get out of here!”
Themeno narrowed and locked his eyes with Hibberro. “Calm down. What’s going on?”
“Our notes on Slynos. I gave them to the inquisition to prove you’re a wizard.”
Themeno’s face went solemn. “Rylo?”
“Yes.” Hibberro nodded, “He and his ally paid me.”
“Betrayed by my best friend…and my brother.”
Hibberro breathed heavily. Guilt fogged his mind.
Themeno scrunched his face. “Our notes on Slynos? You’ve incriminated yourself too?”
“Uhhh, no. I just…” He slapped his hands to his head. “Oh, shit!”
Themeno stepped toward his brother. “Listen up and listen well. Do you remember your journeys east as a missionary?”
Hibb nodded. “I was a horrible missionary, but I loved seeing our neighbors over the mountains.”
“Pack as many supplies as you can carry for two people. Take two horses, and get Theto. He’s just a mile down the road learning how the mill works from the old miller. You two go east and never come back. My son’s life is in your hands.”
Hibberro jerked his head back. “By ourselves!?”
“Hibb, brother, this is the second time for my immediate family. The Authority may execute us all. We’ve got to spread out and hope some of us survive. There is no time. Pack, then leave. Don’t find me to say good-bye, just go.”
Hibberro hyperventilated for a moment. He breathed in a long slow breath, then let it out, blowing air against his brother’s face.
Themeno muttered, “Do you have to blow into my eyes?”
Hibberro lunged into him and squeezed. “I won’t fail you.”
#
Finio closed the book. That’s enough history for one day. He already had an A in the class, and he felt he understood the basics of the third northward expansion.
Steps pounded outside his room. His father slammed through the door. His face held the taut angled lines of a professional sedeux player about to play a championship match.
“Pack a bag with a month’s worth of supplies. You’re going to Actus to live with your aunt.” He handed his son a letter. “Give this to her and no one else. The Authority may execute you and I. You will never come back and likely will never see your brothers again. Go to the dock we celebrated your birthday at two years ago. A boat will be waiting, leave as soon as you arrive. You’re a bright boy, you’ll be fine.”
Finio stared out to space. He couldn’t move. He half expected his dad to throw a pie at him and say ‘just kidding!’ Finio muttered, “Leave Hyzantria? Leave The Authority?”
“Boy, the world isn’t so simple. Just keep learning. Go.”
Finio had never left his country before. He only left his county for sedeux games.
His dad tensed. “Now!”
Finio jumped to his feet as his mind ran. He would need his knife. It was on his dresser. He’d want to bring his big canteen. He last used that for their attack on Asho. It should be on the second-floor balcony. A fresh bag of nuts is in the kitchen. That and some ears of corn should last me part of the journey.
He stopped. His dad had already turned to leave the room.
Finio said, “Shouldn’t I go east and find mom?”
“No. Hurry.”
#
Inside the water wheel building, Theto watched the machine work. The wooden wheels spun, lifting water and dropping it, lifting water and dropping it, like an endless cycle of calm beauty. Lifting water and dropping, lifting water and dropping. Sleep rose through his mind, weighing it down like a rock in water. His head drooped forward.
“Theto!” The old voice of the miller broke his daze.
He turned his head to the wrinkly man. “Huh?”
“I promised your dad I’d teach you how this works. Are you even paying attention?”
“I was, but then…water.”
The miller crossed his arms, shaking his head.
Hooves raced off the ground from outside. His uncle’s voice yelled, “Theeeeto! Theeeeeeeetoooooooooo!”
Theto opened the door and looked outside. His uncle raced toward them on a horse saddled with bags followed by another horse similarly prepared.
“Theeeeeeeeeeeeetooooooooooooooooo!”
Theto stepped outside. “Uncle, what?”
The horses ran right past him. The uncle doubled back. “Get on. The family’s in trouble. The Authoirty may execute us all. Your dad loves you, but doesn’t have time to say it. You and I are fleeing east.”
“What? No. Uncle, what are you talking about?”
Hibberro narrowed his eyes and leaned toward him. “No questions! All will be explained. Let’s go.”
Theto shrugged his shoulders and got on the second horse. They trotted up the road for a moment.
Hibberro pulled on his reins and stopped.
Theto did the same. “Are we in a hurry or not?”
Hibberro’s shaking right hand rubbed his bald head, then pushed through his remaining hair. “CAA! I have to get CAA!”
“Why are you screaming caa at me?”
“That’s his name! My communicator.” Uncle Hibberro pointed his hand toward Theto. “Look. Your dad and I are wizards.”
Theto jerked his head back.
Hibberro continued. “Oh boy, there are so many things your father and I wanted to tell you but couldn’t because it’s against the law. I use CAA! To communicate with a high being.”
“Just say Caa. No need to scream, CAA!”
Shaking his head, Hibberro said, “That’s what I named him. His name is CAA! Not Caa. Let’s go.”
They rode to Hibberro’s house. Theto waited outside as his uncle went in.
After a moment, Hibberro ran out with a fluttering owl on his hand. Blood ran down from where its talons repeatedly readjusted on the man’s hand. He grimaced. “I knew I should have left him in the cage.”
The uncle tossed the owl toward the back of the horse, it fluttered a few times before perching on a bag. Hibberro threw himself on the horse’s back, hitting at an awkward angle. He flailed about a bit, then got his balance and righted himself on the mount.
Theto stared at his uncle. “That’s an owl. Why did you name it caa? Owls go hoo, not caa.”
Hibberro scrunched his face and looked away. “Yeah, never thought of that. And it’s CAA!”
Theto shook his head. He didn’t yet believe his uncle was serious. But curiosity sparked in his mind. He wanted to learn what all this was about.
“Heaa!” Hibberro jerked forward on his mount.
Theto kicked his horse and followed.
#
Parto walked toward the sedeux stadium. He glanced back
at his horse tied to a tree. No one’s around, so no point in using the stable. He looked at the sky; still twenty minutes or so until noon. Why had he arrived so early?
He loved how a tiny smile peeked from her mouth when he saved her from the riot. His body almost convulsed in seizures when she examined him with her knowing green eyes. What he wouldn’t have given to run his fingers through her light hair.
He glanced at the sky again. He would kill himself if he was late, but twenty more minutes of anxiety could explode his heart. He’d never been on a date before, and for his first one to be with the height of perfection…The Divinity had finally looked Parto’s way.
Hooves slammed against the road from the direction of his father’s land. He looked up, hoping to see her majestically riding a white horse given to her from above.
His dad sped toward him. His heart sunk.
Stopping ten yards in front of him, his father said, “Son! Mount up. We’re in danger.”
“Wha?”
“No time to—”
Multiple galloping horses sounded from behind Parto’s father. His dad snapped his head around. A group of armored soldiers led by the flowing white robes of an inquisitor sped toward them.
His dad looked at his son with a face graver than Parto thought possible. “Son. I’m a wizard. So was your mother. You must flee.”
Parto’s eyes narrowed. Instinctively, he said, “Maleefa.”
“Please son. Flee Southeast to Blastonin. The Authority won’t get you there.”
Parto stared at his dad in disbelief. Everything was happening so fast. Leave Hyzantria? The land he loved? Live with those who doubt The Divinity? His dad…A maleefa? His mom…That’s why she was exiled? How come no one told him?
“Mom? She’s in Blastonin?”
His dad shook his head. “No. The inquisition would not allow her that close to our borders. You’re innocent. Hyzantria won’t risk a foreign relations incident over you. Sprint to your horse, now!”