Ancient Magic

by Blink, Bob

  Two days later he came upon a farmer with his wagon stuck on the side of the road. Somehow the unfortunate homesteader had allowed the cart to come too close to the side at a point where the bank was steep and sharply cut off. One of the rear wheels slipped off the edge, and now hung free in space, the bottom of the wagon firmly planted against the road. As the wagon was heavily loaded, it would be difficult to correct the matter.

  “It looks as if you could use some help,” Rigo said as he approached the farmer staring despondently at the trapped wagon.

  “I fear I will have to remove most of the load,” the man complained. “It will take a couple of hours for the unloading and reloading.”

  “Perhaps we can lift it,” Rigo suggested.

  The man was already shaking his head. “You and I together would not be anywhere near strong enough. You are young and healthy, but are not nearly sturdy enough for this.”

  Rigo wandered over and looked at the wagon. He stepped down into the ditch and examined the wheel and where he might stand.

  “How about we give it one try?” Rigo suggested.

  The farmer looked as if he was going to decline, but then shrugged and walked over and climbed down next to Rigo. Together they grasped the base of the wagon and heaved. Rigo applied his strength, but also drew on power the other couldn’t see. Careful not to make it seem too easy, he forced the wagon upwards. Once the wheel cleared the ditch, he pushed forward, and together they cheered as the wagon rolled back onto the road.

  “Praise Risos,” the man exclaimed. “You are far stronger than one would have guessed.”

  Rigo smiled as he looked at the wagon. It had taken little effort on his part. It was one of the things he didn’t understand about his ability. The effort to move the wagon would have normally wearied three strong men, but he knew he would feel nothing from the effort. Whatever supplied the energy for his magic, it took no toll on him that could be detected.

  “Where are you headed?” the man asked, noting that Rigo had a traveling pack and walking stick.

  “Sulen,” Rigo replied.

  “That’s where this load is destined. You are welcome to ride along if you wish.”

  Rigo nodded, and soon the pair were moving at a modest pace toward the capital. It beat walking, and once again Rigo had someone who could tell him what to expect when he reached the city.

  Chapter 8

  Sulen was even larger than Rigo had expected. The city extended for miles in every direction, starting with scattered houses and farms, which gradually gave way to denser groupings of homes and finally the city proper. The farmer had dropped him off on the fringes of the city, explaining he had to turn north at the crossroads while the area that Rigo sought was farther to the west. Enlightened by the information imparted by his fellow traveler, Rigo had some idea where to search for lodgings. There would be no camping out while he was in the vicinity of the capital. It took him most of the morning to select an inn. He looked at more than half a dozen in the district he’d been directed to before he found one that he felt comfortable with, his senses telling him the proprietor was honest. The price was also within the range he felt reasonable, although that was partially because he was willing to settle for a room with no view. He wasn’t here for the view, so it didn’t matter. The only thing he could see out of the window in this room was the back of another building in the adjacent yard. The inn offered warm baths in a special bathing area, and Rigo took advantage of the opportunity, switching into his better clothes and asking the innkeeper if he could have the stained and trail weary set he’d been wearing cleaned somewhere.

  As was the case in Garth, his room came with meals provided, in this case two meals, although the morning meal was mostly a fruit covered pastry and tea. The evening meal was far more substantial, and if the first day were any indication in terms of quality and size of the servings he would be eating most of his dinner meals at the inn. His thoughts were somewhat influenced by Cinde, one of the three serving girls. Cinde had short, shoulder length, yellow-blond hair and stood five and a half feet tall. Compact, she had a spectacular figure that was subtly accented by her serving attire. She also had an outgoing personality and a winning smile and appeared to be as intrigued by Rigo as he was by her. Perhaps that was simply wishful thinking on his part, but he sensed her eyes on him even as she was off about other tasks. More than once he glanced across the room to earn a bright smile when she caught his look.

  Rigo spent the first couple of days getting a feel for the city. He walked for hours, and by the time several days had passed he was reasonably familiar with the locations of the marketplaces, the castle and the center of government, the upscale homes of the city’s wealthy, and the lower class regions and which should be avoided. He had also located several areas where taverns and a wide spectrum of eating establishments were located. He didn’t expect to need the former often, but he knew he was going to need to augment his purse before his stay in Sulen was complete. That meant he needed to be able to find where men would be gambling. He also wanted to find games where cheaters thrived, because he felt better about using his ability to strip away some of their winnings than he did in a game where the other players were honest.

  His wanderings exposed him to more of the politics of Branid. The city showed signs of wear and wasn’t as well maintained as Rigo would have expected. The general feeling he learned from the many casual conversations was that even the Crown was pressed for coin these days. The economy was nowhere near as robust as it had been in past generations, the population still well below what had existed before the last coming of the plague, and the Royal treasury was under pressure to support all that was required. Coin for extensive rebuilding simply didn’t exist, and with the rumblings of a possible war, exactly what Inge had warned Rigo about, the King was trying to conserve coin to support the army he might need to field.

  To further complicate the matter, the reduced population and smaller army had forced the King’s father many years ago to appoint a pair of nobles, Duke Cordale and Duke Rodelos to oversee certain areas of the country and administer the laws and collect revenues for those areas. The arrangement had worked well for many decades, as the two Dukes were close friends of the former King. Now, however, just as the current King had taken the throne from his father, the current Duke Cordale and Rodelos were the eldest sons of the nobles originally appointed, and the relationship with the Crown was not always as cordial. It was said that the Dukes ruled almost like they were independent countries, and that funds due the Crown were not always paid. Given the current state of affairs, the King was in no position to challenge the rebellious Lords. This was especially true of Duke Cordale to the east, who was far more open about his independence and was known to be a harsh and sometimes unjust overseer.

  What Rigo hoped to find was something that would point him in a direction that would help him understand his ability. If anyone else was capable of doing the kinds of things he was, this should be the place to learn about them. It appeared, however, that no one here believed in magic even to the degree some might have back home. Whereas in Daro, charms and talismans might be deployed, here such items were clearly held in contempt. The people were too sophisticated to take comfort in such superstitions.

  The problem was, he knew magic existed despite what everyone else seemed to think. What he could do was certainly magic. For that matter, what his staff was capable of was magic as well. So why was there no record or knowledge about it? Rigo also had trouble believing he was unique, although that raised the question of where had he actually come from? Perhaps he would need to cross the Great Sea. Maybe that was where magic was understood. The problem in that regard was his adopted mother. She had originated from that part of the world, and she had never shown any sign that she believed in magic.

  At dinner on his seventh day at the inn, Rigo met Burke. Burke was a scholar who was traveling around Branid in an attempt to document the history of the plague cycles in hopes that some
one would be able to better predict and prepare for the inevitable upheaval associated with the recurring event. He was young for a scholar, perhaps in his early thirties, with a wiry frame and short brown beard. He was gregarious, and appeared to love to meet new people.

  “She’s a sassy one she is,” he’d said to Rigo when Cinde had wandered off after bringing Rigo a second tankard of bir and lingering to blatantly flirt with him.

  “Pretty too,” Rigo had replied, surprised to be addressed by a stranger. Most of the travelers kept pretty much to themselves.

  Somehow they had started talking, exchanging histories and backgrounds. Burke was from the far south of Branid, just a few miles from the border with Kellmore, and had in fact been educated in Kellmore at the seminary just across the river from the port city. If Rigo was seeking information, Burke suggested he visit the Temple of Risos. The priests there had an extensive library that covered almost any imaginable topic and might be able to aid his searches.

  Rigo had been tempted to blurt out what he sought. Somehow he felt that as a scholar and a traveler, Burke might have come across something that would suggest others had ability with magic. On the other hand, he didn’t know him well, and Rigo was somehow intimidated by the man. Without demonstrating magic was real by performing some feat Rigo felt the man might think him a simpleton for believing in such a topic. Finally he elected to wait until he knew the man better. Perhaps after a day or two he would feel more comfortable raising such a sensitive topic.

  The next day he learned from the innkeeper that Burke had checked out and was gone. Rigo then wished he had taken a chance and asked his questions. Now the opportunity was lost. Something about Burke had left him unsettled, however, not the least of which was the fact that his necklace with the sign of Risos, hidden under his shirt, had felt warm against his chest the entire time he had talked with the other man. He’d checked it once he returned to his room, but then it was back to its usual state. Had he imagined the change? Never before had he had such a sensation, and he thought about it for some time. The one thing useful that had come from the conversation was Burke’s suggestion to seek out the library at the temple. Perhaps one of the priests could help him with his questions.

  His plans to seek out the temple were temporarily delayed by other developments, however. The next evening he returned late to the inn, having spent the evening adding to his dwindling supply of coin. When he climbed the stairs and made his way to his darkened room at the back of the second floor, he was shocked to find a guest. A somewhat shy and very naked Cinde waited in his bed. There was no doubting her intentions, and given the immediate physical reactions Rigo had to seeing her this way, no chance that he wasn’t willing to participate. There was a lot he didn’t know about the activity they embarked upon, but Cinde was more schooled than he, and they managed remarkably well. Another mystery solved, Rigo realized happily. It was sometime later that Rigo learned the uncomfortable truth.

  “He’s your father?” Rigo said uncertainly, after Cinde had revealed that she was the innkeeper’s daughter. He could envision all sorts of repercussions to their recent actions.

  “Hush,” she said, snuggling up against him, her firm and very delightful chest mashed against his own. “The other two girls just work here, but Pa says I need to learn a trade. Just because he makes a good living, I need to be able to fend for myself.”

  “But what if he knew we just …”

  Cinde giggled. “I don’t think we should tell him, do you?”

  Rigo was certainly not interested to see what would result from that revelation. “Are you certain he won’t know what we just did?”

  Cinde snuggled closer which caused Rigo to have a reaction that she noticed right away. “You don’t seem too worried. Are you ready again so soon?”

  Rigo was, and he was willing, and sometime later they settled down in another comfortable embrace.

  “Won’t your father know you are missing?” Rigo asked.

  “This is my night off, and he won’t finish downstairs for a while longer. We have a little more time before I need to go.”

  Sometime later, Cinde climbed reluctantly out of bed, slipped into her clothes and gave Rigo a warm lingering kiss that made him want to drag her back into bed. Then she silently made her way out and down the hall. He thought that would be the end of it, but in the middle of the night the following day, she climbed into his bed while he was fast asleep. After momentary confusion, he realized what was happening, and eagerly joined in the festivities. Most nights she came to his room and stayed a few hours. Cinde was an energetic and adventurous lover. She wanted to experiment with any number of things. The few ideas Rigo was able to contribute, based mostly on discussions with other young men back in Daro, she eagerly wished to try. More than once he had reason to be happy his room was at the back end of the inn well away from the common room where her father spent his evenings. When she left for her own quarters in the early dawn each night, Rigo was pleasantly spent and slept soundly with a satisfied smile on his face. The only difficult part was trying to pretend nothing was going on when he had dinner each night. Some nights he ate elsewhere just because he didn’t want to give her father too much opportunity to observe them together.

  The priest at the temple was willing to allow Rigo to use some of the books and scrolls, so long as he understood that nothing was to leave the room in which it was found. Only certain priests and scholars were allowed to remove any documents.

  There was no point in delaying, so Rigo asked the priest, “Do you have any books on magic?”

  “Oh, you are interested in literature. I had thought you were here for research.”

  “Literature? No, I want books that would have information on the history of magic. I’d like to find where it is practiced and what is known about it.”

  The priest shook his head. “There are no such books. Magic doesn’t exist and there is no history to record. In the alternate religion section there are some articles that refer to certain groups who believe that magic once existed, but there is no factual backing for the beliefs.”

  He took Rigo to the appropriate section, and spent some time showing him relevant items. Rigo sat down and started to read. It didn’t take long to see what the priest had meant. There was nothing substantial, just the words that recorded belief, without anything concrete to support the convictions. After a week of reading, he only found one thing that might have the slightest hint of substance to it. Many of the tales and passages suggested the base for those with such power was far to the east, beyond even Lopal, in what was referred to in the geography texts as the Great Ruins.

  Rigo switched to geography and the scholarly histories. He spent weeks in the temple library reading. Some of what he learned caused him to investigate rudimentary science texts, but what he found there was mostly unenlightening.

  He lingered in Sulen long after he had exhausted what the library had to teach him. Partially he stayed because leaving would be admitting defeat. He didn’t want to admit that there was nothing that might help him understand the source of his ability. He didn’t however, relish the thought of heading into the Great Ruins, which seemed to be the only lead he had found. He wished to explore yes, but what he had been raised to believe, and what the tomes in the Library of Risos supported, was the harshness and emptiness of the area. Even if he were to travel there, he could expect to find no human residents who might be able to answer his questions. No one went there any longer and hadn’t in centuries.

  The other reason he lingered was Cinde. The delightful side benefits of staying at the inn were something he couldn’t simply walk away from. Even that, had to end however. One night, more than a month after they had first shared a bed, Cinde and he fell asleep and she forgot to return to her room. When she woke at dawn and hurriedly slipped away, she was certain her father was aware of her late return.

  “I think he knows,” she told Rigo while serving him that evening. They had not been together for th
ree nights.

  Rigo had noted a change in the innkeeper’s attitude as well. He agreed. There was no chance they would be able to continue as before, and that was the final spur he needed to resume his travels. He bought a horse, an especially nice piece of jewelry for Cinde, and early one morning headed east out of Sulen.

  “After I left Sulen I traveled east, eventually running afoul of the Duke and ending up where we met,” Rigo finished his tale.

  “How did you manage to end up arrested for the same kind of offense that had placed you in trouble before?” Kaler asked. “I would have thought you would have learned from the earlier experience.”

  “I was attempting to be careful,” Rigo explained. “I asked one of the local villagers if camping and hunting were permitted in the area and was told it was common for travelers to do so. That didn’t stop the Duke’s men however. I am certain they were directed by the Duke to find me after I inadvertently thwarted his efforts to frame a townsman the day before. I witnessed what had happened, and when the magistrate’s men came to arrest him, I spoke out in his defense. As many people heard what I had to say, it was impossible for the arrest to be made and the man was released. From what I learned afterwards, I suspect the Duke was behind the matter. My interference was more than likely the reason they came after me. Revenge, pure and simple.”

  “Your tale tells of your travels, but explains nothing of your background or why you might be capable of doing such incredible things,” Kaler objected.

  “I tried to explain that is what I seek to find. When my father found me, I was incoherent and emaciated. My clothing was singed and my hair mostly burned away. I was barefoot, blistered, and scarred with burns along my arms. Here, I still have a scar,” Rigo said, showing Kaler the roughened skin on his left arm. “I was out in the flatlands, miles from any village, and no one else was around. My father was never able to understand how I came to be there in such a state.”