The Acolyte: Magicians of the Beyond

by Victoria Murata

  “Who has betrayed us?”

  “The Fletcher, Chersey, has informed the Count of your plan.”

  “I know him. I thought he was trustworthy.”

  “He was paid handsomely for his information. Yours was the only name he knew to give up. The others will be safe if they aren’t caught, but you must go into hiding.”

  “I talked to Chersey earlier today. I didn’t give him any details of our plan—just the time and place of this meeting.”

  “What will happen to our plan?” the other man asked.

  “Chersey only reported that there is a plot against the royal family that will take place the morning after Bacchanal. He will be leading guards here to arrest you and your supporters. You must leave now.”

  The other man spoke urgently. “Lucas, the priests will hide you until we can carry out our plan. For now, we will abandon it.”

  “Yes, you’re right Gavin.”

  “We need to warn the others. They’re most likely on their way here now.”

  “Be quick and know that the Count’s guards will be scouring the city for you, Lucas. We’ll be in contact soon. Now go quickly!” Danica said.

  Lucas hesitated. “I have always trusted the prophecy. I knew you would come back to us.” He hesitated. “You look like your mother,” he said tearfully, and then the two men turned and exited the clearing.

  Danica and Jimmu left in the opposite direction from Lucas and his friend. They circled back around and scaled a large tree near the clearing to wait for the guard. A half hour passed before they saw a light in the trees and heard horses approaching. Soon fifteen men, swords in hand, rode into the clearing. One had a brightly lit torch that illuminated the space. The horses were drawn up and a few stamped around the clearing snorting loudly, dripping sweat and foam.

  “There’s no one here!” the captain growled. “Chersey!”

  Danica recognized the man who reigned his horse in next to the captain. He had been with Lucas at the inn when she had overheard them talking.

  “Yes, m’lord?”

  “Where is this band of rebels you said would be meeting here?”

  Chersey’s discomfort was obvious, and his voice wavered. “I don’t know m’lord. Lucas said they would be meeting here. Tonight. At midnight.”

  “Well, it’s midnight, and I don’t see anyone. Do you?” the captain said contemptuously.

  Chersey swallowed. “No, m’lord, but I know I’m not mistaken. I know their plan was to meet here.” He was talking quickly. “They must have been tipped off by someone.”

  “I don’t think there was a plan, Chersey. I think you wanted the reward money. Now you’ll get jail instead.” He turned to two guards next to him. “Arrest him and put him in the dungeon. The Count will decide his fate in the morning.”

  He pointed to two others. “Find where this Lucas lives. He’s a blacksmith so it shouldn’t be too difficult. Arrest him if you find him.” The captain raised his voice. “The rest of you search these woods and the mill. Bring anyone you find to me.”

  More torches were lit, and the men dispersed. The captain spoke to a guard who stayed behind.

  “What a waste of time,” he spat. “Last week someone else led us on a wild goose chase.”

  “Are you certain the rebels didn’t get tipped off? Maybe Chersey was right.”

  “Maybe. Most likely he was hoping to make some coin and didn’t think things through. Stupid oaf!”

  “There have been more plots this year—the year of the prophesy.”

  The captain looked at the guard and said derisively, “You don’t believe that rubbish, do you?”

  “Whether I believe it or not doesn’t matter. The Count believes it.”

  “Aye, well, that’s why we’re out here freezing our balls off isn’t it?”

  The guard, a younger man, said, “You were at the castle seventeen years ago when the Count murdered the royal family, weren’t you?”

  The captain took a moment to answer. “Yes, I was.”

  “What was she like—Astrid, the High Priestess?”

  Danica didn’t think the captain would answer. Finally, he said, “Everyone loved her. Crown City was a different place. Peaceful. Free.”

  “I’ve heard she was beautiful. Did you love her?”

  Moments ticked by as the captain seemed lost in thought. Then he said, “Like I said, everyone loved her.”

  Jimmu and Danica watched the search from high in the tree. After an hour when no one was found, the guards gathered in the clearing.

  “Let’s head back. We’ve wasted our time,” said the captain, and they spurred the horses and left the clearing. Jimmu and Danica waited another quarter hour before they climbed down from the tree and headed back.

  Their rope was hanging where they had left it and they climbed the castle wall to the top. They easily leaped to the branch of the apple tree, and Jimmu untied the rope and gathered it to him. Then they traveled through the city’s unlit streets until they came to the back of the Red Fox Inn. Jimmu threw a small pebble up to the window, and then another until it opened, and Emma looked down at them. He gathered the rope and threw it up. She caught one end and disappeared briefly. When she reappeared, she nodded to them. Danica climbed up first, then Jimmu. Once they were both safely back in the room, Jimmu pulled the rope up and untied it from the room’s door ring and stashed it in his pack.

  “Okay, we have a couple of hours until dawn. Let’s talk.”

  They sat on the plank floor facing each other. After hearing of Danica’s and Jimmu’s meeting with Lucas behind the mill, Emma told them of her talk with Ansa.

  “She knows a lot of what goes on in Crown City. I think she’s taken every royal guardsman to her bed.”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “The guards are mustered every morning at dawn. They’re divided into groups and rotated in shifts at different posts. One group is in the courtyard, one patrols the city on horseback, and another is at the east gate. The south gate is usually locked, but they always have two men there. Another group is on the citadel and one group patrols the road that leads to and from the city. There’s always a few guards in the dungeon, and a large group is on rest.”

  “How many men in each group?” Jimmu asked.

  “Ten.”

  “When do they rotate shifts?” Danica asked.

  “After the assignments are given out at six in the morning, there are three rotations at ten, at two in the afternoon, at six in the evening until ten at night. Four hours on each shift.”

  “What about after ten?” Jimmu asked.

  “After curfew it’s pretty quiet. There is a smaller group that works at night, half of the daytime strength, but all the posts are guarded. There are captains. Rone usually commands a group, and Wolksey has another.”

  “The most confusion will be at the rotations. That would be the best time to stage a take-over,” Jimmu said.

  Danica looked pensive.

  “What are you thinking?” Jimmu asked.

  “Maybe the rebellion can happen in a more quiet way,” Danica said.

  “How?” Emma asked.

  “Part of our mission is to eliminate the royal family. Maybe we can do it in a way that doesn’t draw any attention. And if we can eliminate all of them in the space of a day, quietly, one at a time if need be, there might not be a general alarm. This way there will be no attack that will cause the deaths of citizens.”

  Jimmu was interested. “If we can do it your way, it would be safer for the people. But remember, we have Dumone to think about. You don’t think he’ll allow us to kill off the family one-by-one?”

  “Leave Dumone to me. There’s a chink somewhere in his armor.”

  “We don’t really know what the scope of his power is,” Jimmu said.

  “I have a pretty good idea what his limitations are. This afternoon Nella and her friend the guard will show me the tunnels and hidden passages in the castle. I’ll be able to discover how to g
et into the royal chambers, and where Dumone’s rooms are.”

  “Um, not to change the subject, but if Nella and the guard know about the tunnels, how hidden can they be?” Emma asked.

  “We have to assume that a lot of people know about them—or most of them. Maybe they were used for some purpose in years past but not any longer,” Jimmu said. “I imagine they’re dank and dirty and so they wouldn’t be in common use. But don’t for a moment think that they are secret. You could set yourself up for a trap.” He looked pointedly at Danica. “One of the tunnels must lead to the abbey. Maybe you can find out what’s happened to Lucas, your blacksmith. I’m glad our warning gave him time to save himself and his comrades.”

  “If I do find him, I’m going to trust him with our plans,” Danica said.

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” Emma asked.

  “I am absolutely sure. Maybe he’ll know about the young girl I saw in Master Stefan’s cards.”

  Jimmu stared at Danica. He felt icy fingers of fear creep up his back. She seems so certain! Is she a babe in the woods that she doesn’t understand the danger she’s in? She’s going to be on her own inside the castle and there’s no way I will know what’s happening. He tried to shake off the feeling of dread. Am I overprotective of her? Would I feel the same way if it were Wilder or Neith on this mission?

  A bird outside the window gave a clear call and another answered. Jimmu looked up and saw a faint glow in the sky. Dawn.

  “It’s time,” he said. Let’s get our table in place with the silk. We’ll keep some of it back, Danica. That way the Countess will have something different to look forward to when we are invited to the castle.”

  Thirty-Two

  At the early hour there were vendors jostling for the best spaces in the castle courtyard to display their goods for Bacchanal. Jimmu carried the table they had rented from Muryl to a position in the inner circle closest to the castle door. Emma spent a few minutes setting out the silk. There were yards of exquisite material in exotic patterns: bright orange koi swimming in ice blue silk surrounded by green foliage, majestic snow-capped mountains rising from a deep blue sea, ferocious huge, orange-striped cats walking through bamboo forests, and flowers of every color imaginable on backgrounds of vivid hues. As she was finishing her arrangement, an official with pen and paper walked up.

  “You are in space number five. What is your name?”

  “I’m Emma Watkins. This is Master Ota and his wife Nica.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from Dunston. They’re from the Farlinds.”

  The official wrote this down on his paper. “What are you vending?”

  “Silk fabric.”

  He looked at the colorful material on the table and made a note on his paper. “You are expected to be orderly. If there is any disagreement about buying or selling that can’t be solved peacefully, let me know. Do you have any questions?”

  “No sir. Thank you.”

  He grunted and walked to the next table.

  By the time the sun was lighting the courtyard, tables full of food, drink, trinkets, baubles, useful items, and children’s amusements encircled the space. Before the general population started to show up, the other vendors checked out the competition. A few asked the price of a length of silk fabric and then scoffed at the exorbitant amount.

  “There must be gold woven into this silk,” one woman said, spitting on the cobblestones, but no one could refrain from marveling at the exotic fabric and touching it. Most had worn wool all their lives.

  Soon the courtyard teemed with locals and folk from far and wide. Many dialects were spoken, and Emma was able to understand and converse with everyone. The silk was widely admired, but there were only a few purchases from obviously wealthy people. After a couple of hours, Emma leaned in to Jimmu and Danica, speaking quietly. “Here comes the Countess.”

  A tall, big-boned woman approached their table. Three lithe young women followed close behind her. The Countess was elaborately dressed in a challis gown, oddly colored, with small flowers embroidered in a regular pattern. It’s not really green, Danica thought, looking at the dress, but not yellow either. Kind of a muddy slimy color, and not flattering at all. The gown was fitted in the bodice with a high neck and small pearl buttons down the front. A voluminous skirt flowed from the waistband, tied at the back with an over-large bow. She bent stiffly over the silk fabric. Her corset is tied so tightly she can barely move, Danica observed.

  Emma wasted no time. “Countess, you are looking at the finest silk from the Farlinds.” She picked up a length of crimson fabric colored with bright green and blue dragonflies. “Please, feel the lightness of this piece.” She handed the material to the Countess. “It would make the most exquisite gown.”

  Danica wasn’t sure the Countess was listening, so enamored with the silk was she. Her small dark eyes darted from one length to another, coveting the rich fabric. The three younger ladies were also examining lengths of fabric and exclaiming over the lustrous colors. One of them lifted a turquoise length from the table and held it up to her face.

  “What do you think, Aefille, is this color becoming on me?” It’s flattering with her chestnut hair, Danica thought.

  The one called Aefille chose a soft melon color embroidered with smoky blue mountains. “Oh, this is stunning!”

  The third young woman was draping a length of mint green silk embellished with deep red and yellow flowers over her shoulders.

  Emma put her attention on the Countess. “We have every color imaginable, Countess. The bright colors are fashionable this year, and I can see by the gown you are wearing that you are sophisticated in fashion.”

  Danica bit the inside of her cheek. Emma is really good at this.

  The Countess looked up from the fabric as if noticing Emma, Jimmu and Danica for the first time. She looked at Emma. “Who are you? You obviously aren’t part of this family,” indicating Danica and Jimmu. She had a brusque, direct way of speaking, cognizant of her position, and daring anyone to challenge her.

  Emma made the introductions. “I am Emma. This is Master Ota and his wife Nica. They don’t speak our language, so they hired me as their agent and interpreter.”

  Jimmu bowed from the waist and regarded the Countess soberly. Danica kept her eyes lowered. She had put in her dark contacts and braided her hair again. The hat hid most of her face.

  The Countess looked them over and then addressed Emma. “What is their price on the silk?”

  “They’re asking fifty-five cretars for each length. It sounds expensive, but it is pure silk of the highest quality.”

  “Yes, it does sound high. Tell him I’m offering twenty cretars for this length here,” and she held up the crimson silk.

  Jimmu kept his face expressionless until Emma spoke to him in the foreign language. Then he looked interested. He bowed to the Countess, smiling, and spoke to Emma.

  “Master Ota thanks Your Highness for your interest in his silk. He asks me to tell you that in his land he only sells to the Royal Family, and he is the only silk merchant they allow into the palace.”

  The Countess narrowed her eyes. She affected an expression of reticence and underneath that, cunning.

  “Tell Master Ota that I can offer him thirty cretars for this silk. It’s lovely, but his price is far too exorbitant.”

  Emma spoke to Jimmu again. He listened carefully and then he smiled at the Countess and bowed. He spoke to Emma in a low voice.

  “Master Ota admires the Countess’s taste in fabric. He believes that you have chosen the perfect color, never before and never again seen in Lymonia. This particular shade of red is the exact color that the Empress wore on her last birthday. When she walked into the reception room, there were audible gasps from many admirers. Master Ota says that you, too, have beauty like the Empress, and the crimson color will perfectly accentuate your dark eyes and hair, as it does hers.”

  Danica hid a smile. When she probed the Countess’s mind,
she found she was both flustered and flattered, calculating furiously, trying to figure out how to get a better price out of Master Ota.

  The Countess ground her teeth, glancing from the silk to Jimmu. “Tell Master Ota that thirty-five cretars is my final offer. I will take these three lengths also, for thirty-five cretars each,” she said, indicating the silk the three young women were still holding.

  Emma spoke to Jimmu. He smiled and bowed. When he stood up straight, he nodded to the Countess.

  “Master Ota accepts your generous offer, Countess, with many thanks. You have made a good bargain here.” Emma folded the lengths of silk and handed them to the Countess who gave them to one of the young women. Then she nodded at Aefille who dug in a reticule and produced coin to pay Emma.

  Jimmu spoke softly to Emma.

  “Master Ota would like you to know that he has more silk if you are interested. He has held some back for his most esteemed customers.”

  The Countess’s little eyes glittered like small black pebbles under water.

  “I would like to see what he has. Tell him to come to the castle tomorrow morning with all of his silk.” She and her ladies turned and walked away, the three handmaids talking excitedly.

  Emma looked at Danica. They both looked at Jimmu. He regarded them soberly with the faintest hint of a smile.

  Later that afternoon the crowds were noticeably thinning as people made their way to the public houses for refreshment. After the dinner hour there would be entertainment in the courtyard with singing, dancing, and celebrating carrying on until the early morning hours. Curfew had been lifted for the Bacchanal.

  Danica had been quietly busy all day seeking information by probing the minds of passersby, other vendors, customers, and guards. She had probed more minds than she ever had in one sitting, and she was drained. Most of the minds were simple and uncomplicated. Hunger, lust, enjoyment, thirst. A few minds were duplicitous, mostly about how to get something for nothing. How to get a drink or a meal or a tumble. Some of the guards mulled over what they had learned at the mustering that morning. They had been told about the rumored plot against the Count. Since nothing had come of it, and no rebels had been found, it was thought to be another false report by someone hoping to receive a reward. There was a manhunt for Lucas since he was a person of interest. A neighbor said he hadn’t seen him since yesterday afternoon and thought he may have left to visit his married daughter in a village in the hills. Danica was both relieved to know he hadn’t been found, and worried about him. She shuddered to think of what would happen to him if he were caught. Even with no proof of a plot, he would most surely be hanged on suspicion alone.