Ida held up a hand. “There is one thing more,” she added.
He stopped walking. A shiver raced down his spine, and he shivered. “Yes?”
“The boy? He is alive.”
Hermon spun around. “What? I saw him with my own eyes. He was dead. No breath filled his lungs. His heart did not beat.”
She raised an unruly eyebrow. “It is as you say, and yet, he has used his magic since that day. More than once. I worried I was tapping into someone else, a different wizard. That is not the case. The boy is alive.”
Hermon tried laughing. “No matter. He’s a boy. His magic will clearly pale in comparison to the power I will unleash!”
“He is a variable. Unforeseen. Surprising. That makes him dangerous.” Ida lowered her hand. She waved it over the mirror, and watched the glass shimmer as if made of liquid.
“And your suggestion?”
“I have none. Mine is just to bring what I know to your attention. You are the king. It is for you to decide the boy’s fate,” she said.
“And decide it, I shall!”
Chapter 5
Despite the thick canopy and village above, the morning sun streaked through large tree leaves. There warm air was something Mykal welcomed. He still thought a chill from the mountains lingered inside his bones. Autumn was too short a season. Winter would consume everything far too soon.
Standing beside Blodwyn, Mykal was holding Babe’s reins when Blodwyn tapped him on the shoulder. He looked where directed, and didn’t understand what he saw. Emerging from between the trees was a tall man in a black cape. His hair was short, and beard trimmed. There was a bow and quiver slung over his shoulders, and a sword in the scabbard affixed to the belt around his waist.
“Eadric?” Mykal breathed. My father?
It was a new man who stood before them. He stayed quiet, eyeing them. Perhaps he looked for approval. Mykal was at a loss for words.
“I’m glad you’ll be joining us.” Blodwyn held out his hand.
Eadric shook it. “It’s been sometime, Wyn. You look well.”
“Thank you, sir. As do you.” The sellsword set both hands on his staff.
Mykal’s father shifted his weight from one leg onto the other. “You know where my wife is, Wyn? You’ve always known where my wife was?”
Blodwyn arched an eyebrow. “You never came to me, Eadric. Your father told me you took off after her. I was charged with watching your boy, with raising your son.”
Eadric drew back his right arm. The punch came fast, and hard. Blodwyn didn’t flinch. He moved his staff to his left. Eadric’s knuckles connected solidly against the wood and iron staff with a flat clunk. Three knuckles bled as he pulled his hand away, and winced. “You wouldn’t have told me where she was even if I’d asked,” he said, breathing fast and heavy.
“You are right. I wouldn’t have. She wanted to keep you and Mykal safe. That’s what I would have told you,” Blodwyn said.
“She was kidnapped!”
“She hid,” Blodwyn said. “Her magic was about to be found out. King Nabal had his Watch and his Crusaders combing the shires looking for her, and people like her.”
“You were the only one to use a word like shire,” Eadric said, absently. It was as if he didn’t realize he’d spoken thoughts out loud.
Ignoring the injection, Blodwyn continued. “The last thing she wanted was to have you and your son watch as she burned at the stake during some public execution. You knew of her magic. You know what the king thinks of wizards. Only a few times when we first met, did I see her power. After she met you, she didn’t use it. She gave up her practice altogether. So, you see, she wasn’t saving herself, Eadric. She was saving the both of you.”
“All of this time…”
Mykal watched the exchange, and while he didn’t think it possible, felt a pang of sadness for his father. “We will find her now,” he said, and had almost said dad, but the word just didn’t feel right in his mouth, like a warm, dark, and bitter ale.
“We’re headed for Grey Ashland,” Blodwyn said. “We need to speak with King Nabal.”
“The king?” Eadric said, hesitantly.
“Ah, no we’re not,” Quill said, walking up behind the gathered group. They should have heard him approach. Crisp leaves, twigs, and fallen branches littered the ground. The man had not made a sound.
“We are,” Blodwyn said.
“We’re Archers, Wyn. We step foot over that border and his knights will have us thrown in prison and we’ll be brought up on phony charges. There won’t be any trial. The verdict will come out as guilty and in a day or two he’ll have the lot of us hung. He’s done it before. No reason not to expect the same sort of warm welcome,” Quill said.
“I want to find Anna,” Eadric said. “Mykal said you were going to get her.”
It explained the fresh haircut and facial trim. “We are,” Mykal said.
Blodwyn stared at Quill for a moment. “I have an assignment for you and your men. We need a boat. You will ride down to the Delta Cove. At the docks you will fly this red cloth,” Blodwyn said, removing a folded red piece of cloth from a pocket.
“And then what?” Quill said.
“And then you will wait. In a day or two the Voyagers will send a ship,” Blodwyn said.
“Voyagers? I’m not interested in dealing with pirates,” Quill said.
“Nor would Voyagers care to deal with the likes of thieves, who live in a forest.” Blodwyn again placed both hands on his staff, and let the wood and iron support his weight as he leaned forward.
Quill puffed out his chest. “We’re not thieves!”
“Don’t be so quick to judge. You’re letting rumors about the Voyagers control your way of thinking. Doing that is a mistake. You are quick to miss the truth. If your mind is closed, you might as well pluck your eyes from their sockets. Seeing with just your eyes will rarely reveal anything beyond cosmetic appearances.” Blodwyn’s tone of voice was harsh, and gravelly.
Mykal couldn’t recall a time he’d ever heard Blodwyn speak this way. He did remember a time not that long ago when he thought similarly of the Archers, that they were not to be trusted. It was clear that Quill and Eadric were brothers. They shared not only looks, but mannerisms and tempers. They had too much to do, and Mykal was beginning to worry the tension both Quill and his father created might tear the rest of them apart. If they couldn’t work together, they’d never rescue Galatia, or stop King Cordillera.
“Let’s get everyone together,” Mykal said, inserting himself between Quill and Blodwyn. “I want to see how many are joining us. I want to be riding within the hour. We’ve delayed, with purpose, but for far too long. We need to move forward now. Once we have the king’s support, we can move against the Mountain King with confidence!”
Quill nodded. “C’mon, then. I have everyone ready. They’re waiting, and just as anxious as you, nephew.”
It was slight, but Mykal caught Blodwyn wink at him before following close behind Quill; the two of them spoke in urgent, but hushed whispers. Mykal couldn’t hear the words. He just hoped they’d put arguing, and even disagreeing aside. They all shared a common goal, were about to go against a common enemy. As a united strand, they stood a much better chance at seeing this through victoriously, than as a frayed rope.
“You show some serious promise.” Eadric stepped forward, and ran his hand along the side of Babe’s muscular neck.
“Promise?”
“As a leader. You speak and people listen. That is no simple feat to accomplish. There are men placed in positions of authority who cannot demand the attention you just snared. I’m impressed, son. Very impressed,” he said. He smiled, and while Eadric’s eyes were flat brown, like trampled mud, staring into them now Mykal saw a deer skin brown, with a splash of light, of life. It was as if a spark had been set off. The eyes didn’t sparkle and glow, but there had been that glimmer, that spark. Mykal was thankful he’d seen it.
“I don’t know much about lead
ing,” Mykal said. The words he spoke were true enough. However, over the last few months it wasn’t exactly accurate. If anything it was modesty mixed with denial in his response. He supposed at some point, if the time was ever right, he would tell his father stories about the quest. There was the tale about nearly dying from the serpent’s venom, the fights in the bowels of the mountains, the ghosts inside the catacombs…
The ambush by the valley. Galatia’s kidnapping. Karyn’s sacrifice.
“Mykal?”
“Yes?”
“You went somewhere else just now,” Eadric said. “You okay?”
“We better catch up. I hope you had a hearty breakfast. One thing I’ve learned, eat when you can, sleep when you can. Those two things are not always a given,” Mykal said.
Eadric regarded him for a moment, smiled, laughed, and then clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You are just seventeen? Seventeen?” He shook his head, as if baffled. “Your words are wise, Mykal. So wise.”
***
Quill and Blodwyn stood side by side. Mykal was felt relieved seeing this. Behind them, on horseback, he saw Coil, and three other Archers.
Quill stepped forward. “It has been agreed that Coil, and the others will ride with me. We will go directly for the cove and await a response from the Voyagers.”
Mykal caught the slight change of tone in his uncle’s voice when he said the name, Voyagers. There was just a hint of mistrust that escaped lightly clenched teeth.
“Any idea on how we should entertain them if a ship arrives before we hear word from you?” Quill looked at Mykal, although the comment seemed clearly directed toward Blodwyn.
It was Blodwyn who responded. “When they dock, let them know I am forthcoming. Chances are they won’t get off their vessel. It is very likely they will bring sold supplies, and will preoccupy themselves with any transactions presented. They’re resourceful that way.”
Eadric raised a finger. “I do have one concern. We’re going to Grey Ashland. Unless there is royal blood flowing through one of us, I do not see us walking into the keep and demanding a meeting with the king. For the sake of argument, let’s say we get to the keep, and the king agrees to see us. Then what? What is it you plan to tell him?”
“What they told us,” Quill said. “It is why Anthony and I joined them on their quest in the first place. A war is the last thing anyone wants. Things may not be perfect, but it’s peaceful. If King Hermon Cordillera plans to cross the Isthmian intent on conquering Nabal’s realm, Nabal needs at the very least to be warned. Even before encountering the Mountain King, I knew I did not like him. He will not stop with Nabal’s castle. He will not be happy with torching this forest. The man is crazed. He is after ultimate authority, and unparalleled power. I am not a king, and I understand the need to stop a madman before his dark dreams are realized.”
“Don’t get me wrong, brother,” Eadric said. “I agree with what you’ve said. I agree he must be warned, and I pray he will react to the news accordingly. That is not where my concern lies.”
Blodwyn held out his arms. “What, then, has you worried?”
“The mention of wizards. I fear that you are going to tell him about magic. If my wife went into hiding to protect my son, as you say she did, Wyn, then why is Mykal coming with us? If we have the king for our audience and speak of wizard wars, he’s likely to have you and I manacled to chains in his dungeons, or locked in stockades in the court. But what will he do with my son?” Eadric shook his head. “No. I think my son should ride with his uncle. It will be safer for him if he is miles away from the keep.”
With pursed lips, Blodwyn lowered his staff, and set both hands around the staff. “Mykal needs to ride with us. Unfortunately, your brother spoke many truths just now. Hermon must be stopped. However, I fear we will be too late to prevent him from spilling enough of his evil that it impacts all of our lives. We need King Nabal to believe everything we say. We are not going to the realm just hoping for a meeting with the king. When we arrive at the castle, King Nabal will agree to see us.”
Eadric shook his head as if in disbelief. “But you can’t guarantee something like that…”
Blodwyn stared at Mykal’s father, and waited.
Eadric looked at Mykal, and then back at Blodwyn. Mykal thought the change in his father’s expression was simple to read. He got it. Eadric understood. “No. You’re not using my son to accomplish all of this. What are you going to have him do? You want him to waltz into the keep and do some parlor tricks? You expect him to perform like a jongleur? Do some slight-of- hand? Pull a scarf from a sleeve; a flower from his arse?”
“Something like that,” Blodwyn said.
“And when they burn him at the stake, Wyn, what then?”
Mykal swallowed.
“I would not allow that to happen,” Blodwyn said.
Eadric threw his arms up, and let them fall, and slap against his thighs. “Are you kidding me? You won’t allow that to happen? Are you still such a swordsman that you can take on the king’s knights on your own?”
“I won’t be on my own,” Blodwyn said. “Now will I?”
Eadric almost laughed. “I’ve spent the last three years living inside a bottle by the lake; this is my first day sober. It’s not even past time to break my fast and I’m already wondering how in the world I’m going to make it without a drink!”
“Do you want a drink?” Blodwyn said.
Biting down on his lip, and lowering his eyes, Eadric said, “No. I do not.”
“If there is trouble, are you afraid to use your sword?” Blodwyn said.
“I am not. No.”
“Your son is a most talented wizard. His magic comes out of his mind. He doesn’t need words, or blood, potions, or spells to use his power. Just his mind. I have never heard of such a feat. But I have seen him do it, and it is most impressive, I can assure you. Most impressive.”
“Impressive?” Eadric took several steps toward Blodwyn. “I’m his father. I’ll not have you making decision that could cost him his life on a whim—”
“Enough!” Mykal knew his face reddened, when everyone looked directly at him. Ignoring the embarrassment, he said, “I want to make some things clear. Not just to you, Eadric, but to everyone. First, I am not a child. Not by any stretch of the word. That is the last I will hear on that nonsensical topic! Blodwyn and I spent a lot of time working on this plan from the moment we knew what needed doing. It will work. The truth is I am but one person. My death in exchange for the lives of thousands is of little consequence.”
“Mykal—”
Mykal held up a hand, silencing his father. “One way or another, the king will ready his Crusaders. They will seek out the truth. We have that working in our favor. There is no way we can walk into his realm and prove that magic is at large without expecting a knee jerk reaction from Nabal. In fact, we’re counting on it,” Mykal said.
“Sir,” someone said.
Mykal looked at the men on horseback. Like his father had done, Mykal saw one man with a finger held up. “Coil?”
“Sir, I would like to ride with you. I believe that Quill and the others can handle hoisting a flag and waiting on the Voyagers. I think my services might be better utilized on what lies ahead on your path. If I understand everything correctly, this war is going to involve more than iron, and steel. There is going to be more than the wielding of swords and battle axes. We know that King Hermon has at least two wizards already, and by now he may have summoned the other three—”
“He hasn’t.” Mykal was somewhat shocked he knew this as fact.
“But you see what I’m saying, right? He has two. He’s trying to get three more.”
Mykal shook his head. “No, Coil. I’m afraid I don’t see what you’re saying.”
Quill said, “I do.”
“I, as well,” Blodwyn said.
Mykal raised his eyebrows. “Would someone like to share with me the knowledge passing between all of you, because I still do not
see what he is saying?”
“Your death,” Coil said, “would be of grave consequence. We, all of us, we need you. You’re something of a savior. So if it pleases you, I would like to ride by your side, and if it comes down to it, I pledge my life by protecting yours.”
Chapter 6
Cearl, lieutenant on the Derecho, sat across from Helix, the ship’s boatswain. They occupied a small table in the back corner of Brady’s Tavern. The small establishment served chilled ale, and hot homemade meals, and was situated on the main island between the banks of the Isthmian Sea. Despite the time of day, the place was properly sealed off from natural outside light. Mounted lanterns kept just enough oil light around so no one tripped on their way to the loo, or up to the bar for another round. In the summer it sometimes became stuffy, and stifling. On nights when the tavern’s roof cooked all day under the sun, odors of stale men, dried and fresh vomit, and decaying garbage was nearly unbearable. It didn’t keep patrons away; it was just nearly unbearable.
“Are you even listening to me?” Cearl said. He knew he didn’t have Helix’s full attention, or even a fraction of it. Both of them were working their way through countless pints of ale, and Helix seemed unable to remove his eyes from Jett, the owner of the tavern. She was a beautiful woman, so Cearl couldn’t fault his friend. Long, midnight sky black hair, and green eyes that shamed any emerald he’d seen before. It was wasted desires, though. When her brother passed from gut rot, and she became the owner of the place, she discontinued fraternizing with any of the Voyagers. She made it clear her desire to be viewed and treated as a respectable business person was far more important than having someone waiting at home. It didn’t make her any less friendly with the customers, just more pursued by them. It was her fault, Cearl figured. She’d set the challenge in front of them all from the get-go. “Helix!”
Helix’s head snapped back, and he blinked several times. “What? What?”
Severed Empire: Wizard's War Page 6