Fletcher

by P. S. Power

  It was simpler now to use the speaking spell with Aisla. Almost boring, in a comforting way. After the battle everything had ached in an indefinable way for days, magically speaking. Everything had been harder than it normally was. Now, nearly a week later, he was back to his normal self as far as things like that went. Nearly, anyway.

  The complex spell that allowed him to speak across the miles didn’t seem hard at all. He passed the simple statement, which Prince Alpert dictated to him, so he could rewrite it in symbols that only had meaning to him, which when they hit the ear of the far away Princess would turn into syllables that made up words. Well enough for her to understand them. Some of it was probably pretty blocky and rough, even though he grouped things to seem right. The trick there was that he’d never been on the receiving end of it and Aisla hadn’t complained about it to him. Or, and he considered this just as likely, she may have, and Master Tolan had simply neglected to tell Anders about it to spare his feelings.

  When it was the other man’s turn to use his magics, he smiled, even if in a trace. He didn’t really have to go all that deep in order to reach Aisla’s mind after weeks of daily practice.

  “It seems a large gathering is to be held in your honor on returning, Prince Alpert. The Queen had another vision, so more troops are being mustered to the border of Yanse, if further to the south this time. Oh…” The man stopped then, actually driving down into a deeper state. When he spoke again, it was a long while later. “There… Seems to have been a messenger from Yanse. They… Have declared open war. No one is surprised.”

  That seemed to be at odds with the idea of a party being held. Still, he wasn’t surprised by it either, now that the words had been spoken. You didn’t attack someone and not expect war.

  They waited for a moment, letting Master Tolan join them again, out of his magical state of mind. As soon as the man cleared a bit, the Prince took a deep breath.

  “We’ll need to explain this to the men and move at best speed from here on out. That’s less than perfect but we can’t risk being away for too long, if we’re needed for something. Master Tolan especially.” He didn’t look at the Wizard with pride, instead seeking Anders’s eyes.

  The words made perfect sense to him.

  “Right. We need to have the information he can provide. Can you connect with things from that far away, now that you know the area?”

  It made sense to him, magically speaking. Not that he knew what wizards did that way. There had been a reason for the man to move to the site like he had. His information had been stunningly detailed once he was inside fifty miles or so. Then, he could do the same for the people and one presumed, things, back in the castle with the same clarity.

  Laughing a bit, he nodded.

  “Being there, even for a few weeks, will help with that. I can also use some of that armor and weaponry you brought back, to connect to other areas. People in any military will meet those above them after all.” The man was hiding a grim smile behind a single hand.

  Anders just nodded, not even pretending to get the idea behind that.

  “Any of it you need. I have some coins and jewelry as well. When we get back we can sort out what will be useful to you and work from there. Maybe… Mark things on a map, since we have a starting point from the lake. Not that I can do what you do, which is what Prince Alpert was getting at there, I suspect.” He sounded foolish, so stopped talking as if he understood what the other man did when he worked.

  It involved trance states, which were a thing he knew something of. That didn’t mean his disciplines in his old life would follow enough to make sense given a different man’s way of doing magic. Even in the schools of his own time that had taught memory skills, the techniques differed greatly. Unlike magical schools of the time, those that walked the stories of the past had always shared what worked for them with others. Still, differences had always persisted. Some things just worked better for some people than others.

  There was no rebuke, just a grand smile from Master Tolan.

  “I’d have figured that you’d sell the armor and weapons instantly. Most do, after a battle. Then, most of them aren’t heading back to the castle first thing. I suppose that rather makes that less pressing, not needing every coin to find your fortune like that.” As soon as the words came out, the man stopped talking, clearly looking as if grave insult had been given.

  Prince Alpert’s mouth went hard as well.

  The thing there was that Anders hadn’t been thinking about coin at all. When he’d been Farad, he’d never dealt with that kind of thing in his life. It had existed, certainly. The ancient texts spoke of gold and silver well back into the halls of time. His order had simply existed, being given enough to sustain them from those in the area, in exchange for stories being told and histories being kept pure inside of their minds. It hadn’t been a grand life of riches, externally. Inside his mind he’d lived in true splendor.

  Anders the boy had never had a single coin to his name. Then, he’d never wanted for anything in particular, either.

  So, when there was wealth that was his, neither of them knew how to consider it as being real, or even belonging to him. People bought and paid for things, in shops and the like. That had never been a part of what either of them had done.

  The idea of why he was supposed to be offended was clear enough. He lived off the goods and riches of the King, at least in part. Possibly in whole measure. The gear he had taken with him to the camp had been given by King Matheus himself. The horse he was riding and the spare as well. Even the herbs and spices, sugar and flour had been provided by him. Where his clothing had come from, well, his Mother came to mind for that. How she’d arranged for it, he simply didn't know. Children probably seldom did. Not that he was that young any longer.

  Then, Master Tolan was no better that way, at a guess and the Prince lived in the same fashion. They were all tied to the castle, though the others did some kind of work to earn their keep. Possibly he was doing that now as well. That hadn’t been why he’d done what he had.

  Rather than get moody, since he didn't feel that way, he simply grinned at the other men.

  “Well, I did figure that we could sell it all, later. If it’s needed for the defense of Istlan, then we do the magic first. If it means losing out on the coin, then so be it. The truth is that I’m twelve. The King won’t likely begrudge me a room and some bread while we try to find out what our enemies are doing.”

  He didn’t know if it was the correct thing to say. Alpert seemed sour over the words, while Tolan just nodded, not speaking again. Not until they all moved to sleep for the night. In the morning, fighting sleep as hard as he could, Anders got up and collected some more ripe apples. That took doing, since the closest trees were a long way away. Then he did the same, using his new word that meant ripe gosberries. Those were collected in his travel pot. A thing large enough for eight to eat stew from.

  All of the men were fed, as soon as daylight came, with most of them eating in the back of the wagons, or as they rode. It wasn’t a perfect meal, but they had their hard rations as well, to go with it, if they wanted.

  They all rode through the mid-day meal, stopping only to rest the horses. Instead of fish he caught, bled and froze, a small deer. The thing had foolishly come too close to him on the side of the road, attempting to dash across in front of him. It had died so fast that it was only after it had happened that Anders understood he’d made something inside of it explode. After pushing it over, first. One thing right after the other, by reflex.

  They did stop to wait for him, while he got the thing prepared. One of the injured men even helped him skin it quickly, once he realized that Anders didn’t know how to do that kind of thing. They didn’t butcher it there, since they were on a time schedule. As they traveled he collected plants as they rode, storing them next to the carcass of the now solid, but cool, deer. He had words for seven or eight specific things, including one that he hadn’t tried at all, which was for a certain
kind of tasty root. They could be roasted in the coals of a fire to good result. They also grew wild in the area, so when it got close to stopping time, he tried it out a few times, ending up with about fifty pounds of the roots, with their greens still attached, having pulled straight from the Earth to fly up and over the trees to him. That spell was just the same one he used for apples, with a single magical word changed.

  Again, he got all the wood, started the fire and then tended the horses that night. One of the men walked over to him as he worked. The man who had been stuck through the middle.

  “Master Brolly? I was wondering if I could have you look to me bandages again. They’re not proper like bleedin’, just weepin’ a bit like wounds do.”

  Whatever the clear pink fluid was, it answered to the name of blood, when he took a few moments to mutter the right spell and point at the bandage. Then he did the man’s clothing for him. Still not having a way to do people that way.

  The soldier didn’t complain about his clothing feeling better, even if he noticed it happening as it did.

  As Anders worked on getting the meat thawed and cut into pieces that looked close enough to correct, using his roasting spit for the first time, after carrying it across half the kingdom and part way back, he thought about what would be needed to keep a person clean.

  The trick would be in indicating that he wanted people to be cleaned only on the outside of the skin, then just take away the things unwanted, like he did with cloth. That would require two new magical words for him, which he did on the spot. Then the trick would be to remove everything from the nisk, his word for skin, on the ona, or outside.

  Not that it didn’t take practice. Before he went to bed he tried it on himself, realizing that most of the filth had simply moved to his own clothing, which had to be cleaned next. Doing those two things left him scent free and feeling less grungy, anyway.

  The next day, as he handed out the morning meal, each person was cleaned that way. A few people seemed mildly offended at the idea of it. The rest suffered his strange ways or even laughed.

  “There you go, Ox! You don’t smell half as bad now! Then, none of us do. Let’s take the road.” The man, who was missing his left hand at the wrist, got up into one of the wagons they’d been lent by the army. They helped each other get in each day, though for the first time a few of them smiled about it. Then, they had some apples left, as well as deer meat. Enough for them all to eat it again that night.

  Over the next days they ran into something of a routine. He found or captured food for them, did most of the cooking and all of the cleaning. Then in the evenings he and Master Tolan contacted the castle. They spent most of their time in the saddle each day, which left him at least feeling sore, even if he wasn’t walking that funny when they stopped. Being clean seemed to help the mood a lot.

  Part of it was that a certain hint of rot had left the air. The men weren’t perfectly tidy and a nice soak in a tub would have been nice after all that time. So would a real bed, even if it was stuffed with straw and not something softer or more prone to a relaxing sleep. Anything would beat the ground, in his estimation.

  On day ten they rode into the town nearest the castle. The men with them were let off there, along with the military animals. Except the two pulling his heavy wagon. A thing he didn't have a place for at all. Prince Alpert settled that for him.

  “If we can borrow a driver, that would be good. That wagon belongs to Master Brolly, as do the goods within it. We can store those in one of the back barns for now. The wagon. You were going to see if you could use any of the spoils to find information for us, Master Tolan?” There seemed to be some doubt in the words.

  “Indeed, if I have access to them. Those that wore these things have passed, their families, friends and connections to the living continue and will for some years.”

  That decided things, apparently.

  “To the castle with it all, then. We can store it in Master Tolan’s tower room, if that works for you? There’s a lot of it, but not so much you should be lacking in room to stand or sit.”

  Those words got a laugh from the old man. He explained after a moment, so as to not give offense.

  “I’d gladly forgo sitting in my own room for access to the information this might provide, it will take weeks just to find the right things to keep for research.” He gave Anders a sidelong glance then, his voice teasing. “I just have you summoned to work on that map you suggested?”

  The only thing to do was nod. After all, he didn’t fear the man would try to turn him into a lover. If that had been his plan he would have tried something already. Instead he’d been almost too polite about things, considering Anders was essentially his servant, or had been for the trip.

  “That will work. I don’t know what I’ll be doing during the day. Fletching and bow making, I think. Then weapons practice. The rest of the day should be open now.” Possibly seeing to the ambassadors in the morning, even if they didn't need him now. The servants would have surely stepped forward, after Daren had.

  At least after Master Belford beat the first half dozen of them for not doing their duty out of mere fear. The wagon left at the same time they did, following along behind them. At the castle gate, the guards bowed to Prince Alpert, several people being there to meet him. The King wasn’t there personally, though the Queen was. Prince Robarts as well, with his daughter, Mathia. She was pretty enough, being fifteen or sixteen.

  Anders had never even once thought it odd that he’d not had that much to do with her. She was a bit older and a girl. One who was blonde and blue eyed, taking after Princess Peri more than her Father. Her jaw line was a trace stronger than her Mother’s was and her nose slightly longer. Other than that, she was working out to be a good enough copy there. That she was, he realized now his cousin, after a fashion, was interesting.

  The girl had never been close enough to him to be mean about anything. Prince Erold had always spoken of her in kind enough terms, being they’d been raised together, even if he was her uncle.

  Which was true for Anders as well. A thing that felt strange to think about. Which was probably for the best. The truth was that regardless of what the blood said, they weren’t supposed to admit it. They could be friends, which was good enough.

  The Prince wasn’t there to see them, which would probably be due to him having been married while his brother was gone. It couldn’t have been helped. There had been no word on the matter, so it might not have happened. Princess Sweyn could have gotten orders to return home instead. All he knew was that it had been planned out, before he’d left.

  There were guards there as well, including Captain Ford. Behind them all and off to the side stood six servants, dressed in very nice black costumes. The kind that dignitaries would see first thing, most of the time.

  To the side, in the back, stood Depak Sona, who was next to Master Belford and Lyse, his Mother. She smiled up at him, since he was still on Chestnut. One of the nicely dressed grooms moved in to take the reins of Prince Alpert’s mount while he slid off of the saddle. Seeing that happen was the only thing that saved the life of the man that did that with Chestnut.

  Ronad, a man that he’d known his entire life, nearly died in an instant, his head exploding internally. The shock of it happening, him nearly responding like that, was so huge that he almost froze. Instead he got down smoothly, having had a bit of practice in the last days. Master Tolan did the same thing, if a bit more stiffly. Then, as a group, the three of them walked over to the collected people who were waiting for them.

  They did it in a line, with the Prince on the far right and himself on the far left. As if they were equals, which wasn’t true at all. He stopped first, Master Tolan taking one more step before stopping and the Prince going only one more himself. Then they all bowed. Not at once, though it was close enough to seem planned. They all used the first courtly bow, which was good to see. If Master Tolan had gone deeper, then it would be embarrassing for Anders, as he tried to scra
mble into place. Not graceful or balanced at all.

  Everyone bowed or curtsied back, including the Queen herself. Then she stepped forward, to hug her son.

  “Alpert! I was so worried about you. You as well Master Tolan. Not a day went by without thinking of you.” Then she moved in to hug her son, with Master Tolan catching a tiny embrace himself.

  Anders was more than pleased enough to be ignored, since it meant he hadn’t messed anything up all that much yet.

  The Queen had other ideas, grabbing him as well. Like she had her own son.

  “Thank all that is good, I did not send you to your death!” When she moved back there were tears in her eyes. The kind that lingered, without ever falling. Her well made up face shone with a smile, regardless.

  Chapter twenty-seven

  Inside the castle door the Prince was taken off with his wife and family, while Master Tolan merely moved off with a few of his personal friends. They met him inside, instead of standing out front like the others had. All of them were men and there were more than a few hugs and claps on the shoulder going on.

  Anders was with his Mother, Captain Ford and Master Belford, with Depak Sona standing next to him, his hands folded into the long sleeves of his silk shirt. It was made to seem highly embroidered. A trick that Anders hadn’t worked out yet, for himself. There were a few things that he’d managed, in the field, such as basic repairs. For instance, the slash to his left sleeve was gone now, even though it was the same shirt he’d had on in the fight.

  Lyse hugged him, holding him close for a long time.

  “That you were so close to the battle. They sent you away to hide from it? No one has told me what went on, only that you weren’t hurt.” There was no real sense of worry in her, even if everyone else standing there looked away.