Quest of the Wizardess

by Guy Antibes

  Zeerok sat down, breathing hard. “You do have a way to go to get back to how I remember you fought at Blut’s tavern, Bellia. But you certainly have enough to give me a good workout. I have to tell you that you wouldn’t defeat the Kokotan today.”

  Bellia didn’t want to be a liability to her comrades. “Can we do this every night?” She saw the answer in the bright eyes of his fellow Rangers.

  They had been on the road a week when Wully turned them east.

  “What is Barloo like?” Bellia asked.

  “Haven’t you been to a port city?”

  “I’ve seen the sea before. I could see the edge of the sea from my family’s house, but since I left home, I’ve traveled down the center of Testia far from the coast. I’ve been to a tiny port north of where I used to live.”

  “It’s certainly an experience and the atmosphere is nothing like a port at a river’s mouth. Nothing matches the smell of the sea and the way it breaks everything down.” Zeerok said.

  “Barloo is gray. The wood turns gray. They use gray paint on their houses. There’s often a gray overcast.” Punty evidently didn’t like the city as well as the other two.

  “Punty may think the city is gray, but the people are anything but,” Wully said.

  “You’re right there. The food is spicy and rich. Spices that are often too expensive elsewhere seem to find their way into Barloo’s cooking. And the people dress in bright colors,” Zeerok said.

  Bellia couldn’t wait to see the port. For the first time since she could remember, she was out and about without feeling pressure. Her blacksmith days, she realized, were filled with the fear of what she’d have to do once she left Pock.

  As she walked along the river road with her friends, she noticed the spring flowers and the emerging leaves. She found her observations gave her a feeling of renewal; of days long gone by when she played in the apple orchards of Greenwell and similar places in the twelve villages her mother visited regularly.

  The thrill of danger existed, but the relentless pressure of her hiding seemed to be gone. Could this be the result of time spent in the Temple? Bellia didn’t know and didn’t want to think about it. The time had come for her to relish the freedom of the moment.

  As they walked closer to the coast, Bellia noticed the easterly wind bringing a salty decaying smell. Everything looked the same, but the air seemed heavier somehow.

  The trees clung thickly to the river road they followed into the city, but Bellia noticed more bald grasslands on the hills above their path.

  The little jetties and shacks that lined the river began to thicken. The trees gave way to cottages and small warehouses. Roads and lanes began to shoot off from the road and finally, it turned into a cobbled thoroughfare. Traffic increased as the road became wider until they walked through a city.

  They followed a bend in the road and the port of Barloo spread out before them. Ships of all sizes sat at countless docks. She felt the similarity between the frenetic action of breaking camp or marching to battle to the activity in the port. Except all of this movement and color happened everyday here in Barloo.

  Only after she absorbed all of this did she notice the grayness Punty described. The dullness only accentuated the vibrancy that touched her as they made their way over a high bridge and into the port itself.

  Bellia found her excitement only increased. The detail and diverse fabric of sailors and vessels surprised her.

  “Barloo is a unique port, Bellia,” Wully said.

  She had to tear her attention away from all of the excitement. “Aren’t all ports like this?”

  “No. They actually have buildings with color on them,” Punty said.

  “I didn’t mean that. This is a transit port. Most of the goods are transshipped. That means they go off one ship and on to another. You noticed that the river wasn’t full of boats.”

  “I did. Perhaps this is an off day?”

  “No,” Wully smiled. “Pottoa has other ports that are better suited for transportation into the interior. The river is too shallow to allow for much navigation and the borders between Tuathua and Pottoa are sparsely settled. They produce mostly wheat and cattle.”

  “Like Kokota.”

  “Yes, except there aren’t as many people who buy meat and grain so there aren’t as many people who produce it.”

  Bellia could tell this was an important concept, but she didn’t know enough about merchants to understand fully what Wully said. She would have to pay more attention to such things when she returned to Assessment. Perhaps Ned could help her understand the merchants’ point of view.

  “Did your blacksmith friend work all the time you were with him?”

  “Only while we had the sword contract with the army.”

  “And before?”

  “We scratched our way through and Pock made less money.”

  “Same thing. More people, more demand for goods, more commerce, more goods being shipped around.”

  “So less people, less demand, less commerce and the lands between Pottoa and Tuathua are sparse.” Bellia now felt a bit more enlightened. She’d still have to apply this concept to the reports that came her way while she read at the Temple.

  Zeerok disappeared into a shipping office. Bellia still absorbed all of the sights. Cranes lifted goods hanging in thick rope nets from the decks of ships to the docks below. Men lifted boxes, sacks and crates on to waiting wagons that would carry the goods to other ships. Now that she was closer, Bellia realized some docks were empty and some ships bobbed silently on the gentle waves of the estuary. For her, it increased the level of excitement where all the action happened.

  The door opened and Zeerok walked out carrying a slip of paper. “The Northern Duck on Dock Seventeen.” He looked down the row of ships. “There.” He pointed, but Bellia couldn’t distinguish between all the bows and the forest of masts and lines.

  Zeerok led the Rangers to the ship. This one stood by itself. No busy workers. A lonely wagon filled with a few boxes stood on the dock waiting for a horse.

  Zeerok walked up the gangplank and disappeared over the railing. Bellia wanted to see what the deck of a ship looked like. She moved up the gangplank to peek. As she jumped down onto the deck, she found Zeerok held by two Kokotans.

  “Up here!” Bellia yelled as she tried to draw her swords. The men let Zeerok go and yelled when they rushed Bellia, but quickly backed off when she brandished her weapons.

  Wully and Punty leapt on the deck, swords in hand. Four more Kokotans emerged from the ship’s cabin. By the time they engaged the Rangers, Zeerok’s captors lay dead. One of the Kokotans threw a knife at Bellia, who barely deflected the knife with her sword, leaving a cut in her cheek.

  In one hundred heartbeats, six Kokotans lay sprawled on the deck. Wully looked at the men’s wounds and fled down into the ship, ignoring the Rangers.

  Bellia took out a pocket square and pressed it to her cheek. Zeerok held his upper arm and Punty stood at the door Wully ran through.

  The healer emerged followed by six people carrying their own bags.

  “They asked about you specifically, Bellia. These people didn’t know anything, but were left tied up in the captain’s cabin. The skeleton crew on board ship is dead. It’s more than past time for us to leave.”

  Wully bound the wounds, not bothering to heal them. Haste seemed to be the best strategy. Time to spend wandering around in Barloo would have to wait.

  ~

  Bellia glanced back as the port closed to her view. She followed the wagon, now with a sturdy horse moving the pilgrims and their belongings. The two women in the group sat in the back. Zeerok drove the cart. An older Servant walked behind Bellia in quiet conversation with Wully and the other three walked ahead with Punty.

  “Bellia, come back here.” Wully stood and let the other pilgrims pass.

  “Show Rullon your short sword.”

  Bellia pulled the blade. “Be careful, the edge is extremely sharp. I don’t recommend you
test it with a finger unless you want to taste a little of your blood.”

  Rullon looked at the blade. His eyes widened. The man was perhaps in his fifties or sixties. He wore a white beard fading into salt and pepper hair. His eyebrows were black. “Magic infused in a most unique way. You made this?”

  “I did. I didn’t use any magic on it that I could tell, but it seems to have picked some up.”

  “No wonder the magician sensed you. This is like a beacon to magical eyes. If the wizard sensed the flavor of the magic in the King’s wound, a spell cast in search of this blade will find you wherever you carry it.”

  “I didn’t think such spells existed.” Bellia said. This kind of magic was far above anything she learned as a child. Maybe her father would have known of it, but she couldn’t ask him and that made her sad.

  “Oh yes. Fortunately spells exist to shield this weapon. Let’s see your other sword. Wully said you made this too.”

  “I did.” Bellia traded blades.

  “Yes, a trace of magic here, but too weak to detect over any distance. You said you made many of these blades? If that’s the case we only need to concentrate on the small one.”

  “Are you a wizard?” Bellia asked.

  “Of course I am, just like you.”

  Bellia snorted. “Not enough of one to defend myself with magic. I have to rely on my swords, magical or not.”

  Rullon gave Bellia a rueful look. “We’ll have to have a talk on the Temple Grounds, but for now lay your sword on the ground.”

  Rullon pulled back his sleeves and began to gesture, punching in a magical code. Bellia felt a pulse of power, then nothing.

  “That should do it. Lift your blade,” Rullon pushed his sleeves down and flexed his fingers. “A little arthritis is very bad for a wizard.” He laughed with Wully.

  Bellia picked up her short sword. It seemed heavier somehow. She was sure the blade would be more dull. “I see what you mean. It doesn’t feel as light as it did.”

  “Oh, it’s the same weight and the sharpness is still there, but you can’t feel it like you could before. A small price to pay.”

  “To pay for what?”

  Wully spoke up. “The Kokotans detected our movements once we left the temple grounds. They checked with the shippers to see which ship carried Temple-bound passengers with them. They thought to ambush us, not knowing of our, ahem, prowess.”

  “You mean they tracked the blade?”

  “They probably magically transported the team to Barloo. All we have to do now is take a different route back to the Temple Grounds and we won’t have to worry.”

  “Is that all?” Bellia thought running from danger was behind her. “Why me?”

  “You mean something special to them, Bellia. Your power is extremely potent if you crafted that weapon and infused it with magic.”

  “There might be more if they know who my father was.” These people were put into danger because of her. They deserved to know. “I am a niece of the King of Grianna. Perhaps my uncle is working with others to kill me.”

  Rullon’s eyebrows shot up like angry caterpillars. “That may be it. There are all kinds of evil doings on Gleanere these days and especially in Grianna. For now it is useless to speculate. There is no doubt about your swordsmanship, but you are no match for all of their wizards—or even me if it came to that. You’ll have to learn more codes.”

  Bellia ground her teeth in frustration. Perhaps, now that Rullon cloaked the sword, she might be able to disappear again, but Shibito must know she lived on the Temple Grounds.

  “How many can a transportation spell carry?”

  “No more than a few, even for the most powerful wizards. The longer you travel, the more your powers drain. I’ve transported to the Temple Grounds before, but then my powers are useless for days. I’d rather sail,” Rullon said.

  Bellia didn’t tell Rullon about the transportation spells her family used routinely. “Is there a danger to the Temple? Could Kokota send an army?”

  Wully laughed. “I don’t think you deserve an army, but your point is well taken. Rullon and I will talk to the Prior when we return. Why don’t you see how our lady travelers fare?”

  Bellia knew a dismissal when she heard one. She jogged up to the cart. “How are all of you doing?” She smiled and climbed in.

  Punty gave her a dirty look and stopped what he was saying.

  “We are fine, Bellia. Punty is treating us to some funny stories. Do you care to listen in?” one of the ladies said. She was more than comely enough for Punty. The other was an older woman introduced as Rullon’s wife.

  “No, if you need anything, Punty, let me know.” She winked at Punty after the women had turned their eyes back to the storyteller. Bellia wouldn’t be an impediment to Punty’s flirting.

  ~~~

  Chapter Fifteen

  An Unexpected Gift

  ~

  “Now my sword is cloaked from magical scrying.” Bellia held her usual mulled cider in her hand while talked to Ned about her trip outside.

  “You could have been killed.” Bellia could see the worry in his face as he said it.

  “I think they want to capture me. That’s what the Kokotan’s said when I first came.

  “They didn’t kill Rullon and the other servants. If their mission was to kill, they would have already been dead.”

  “So what will you do?”

  “Nothing. Wully and Rullon talked to the Prior today. I can stay, but half of the Rangers are being pulled in and they will have shorter missions.”

  “Do you wish to become a Ranger?”

  Bellia could sense a touch of disappointment in his voice. “No. I don’t know what I’ll do. I loved it outside. If I want to go out on missions, I will leave my short sword behind, just to be safe. I’ve seen a bit of Testia on the march south, but Barloo was fascinating.”

  “Tell me about it.” Ned put elbow on the table and smiled. Bellia felt a change in their relationship, but it wasn’t on her part. She wasn’t interested romantically in Ned, but he was such a good friend, she grit her teeth and talked about her trip.

  ~

  More weeks slipped by and Bellia now could read all of the written alphabets on Gleanere and, with Ned’s help, she could do a decent job at speaking all of the major languages. She now understood the economics of her world, something her father never taught.

  “I’ve been doing some research in the Archives lately. History is fascinating,” Bellia said.

  “But you could be working on the Blind God’s manuscripts.”

  “I do that during the day and spend my off hours downstairs. I want to understand the world more and how it works. The Kokotans for instance, are an interesting case. The Piwati became a blood cult only a few hundred years ago when they consolidated into the two great cities. They claim the drinking of human blood gives them greater power. I don’t believe it. I think the cult has been taken over by magicians.”

  “What good will all of this history give you?” Ned said, eating his meal while Bellia nursed a cup of wine.

  “Perspective. I’m trying to understand what’s going on in the world. I feel like a leaf blown about by the wind. I don’t mind hiding, but if I leave the Temple Grounds and venture out into the world, I need to be more prepared.”

  “But leaving here will be dangerous for you.” Ned placed his hand on her arm. Bellia thought she recognized a signal and she didn’t quite know how to let Ned down, so she just continued to talk.

  “I’m sure the time will come when I have to leave here. I’m sorry, Ned. I’m just not cut out to be an assessor.” Bellia generated a large yawn. “Time for me to go. Be seeing you.” Ned patted Bellia’s hand as she rose from the table. As she walked out, she made sure she looked forward. Ned’s eyes were certainly following her all the way out the door.

  His actions were revealing emotions that Bellia wanted to ignore, including the touches and increasing sentiments about her welfare. She broke into a sweat whi
le she returned to her small cell in the basement of the Temple.

  ~

  Research on the kingdom of Grianna provided a surprise. Evidently her grandfather was a disciplinarian. The kingdom was orderly and the documents often said strict, but fair. She read the original documents in the same script that she had once puzzled over in her father’s spell book and on the coins. Her uncle on the other hand used a foreign wizard to put fear into the peoples’ minds. The kingdom was presently falling apart. From the dispatches that came her way, it looked to Bellia like anarchy wasn’t far away.

  Togolath seemed to be pretty much as Astun described it. Even though her former friend was a Kokotan, his descriptions of Togolath were accurate.

  Bellia was back in the Assessment Room going over incoming reports when a Servant tapped her on the shoulder. He told her that visitors asked for Bellia outside the Temple Door.

  Two familiar women stood waiting for her.

  “Menna! Romo!” She hugged the women and led them down from the steps. “You’re alive. I can’t believe it!”

  “Same here. You told me, the Temple of the Blind God. We’re heading to Barloo to meet up with some people and thought we’d see if you made it.” Menna looked up and down at Bellia. “The red robe doesn’t suit you, but it’s better than a burial shroud.” She grinned.

  “Gods’ Truth, we thought you didn’t make it when the Kokotans attacked,” Romo said.

  “I thought the wizard who killed King Rollack did it all.”

  “No. The Piwati came on us through the horse lines and from the city after pelting us all with their deadly fireworks. If Romo and I hadn’t been taking in the smells at the jakes, we would have been killed.”

  “Did you know about the King?”

  “Not until later. Your red-headed friend appeared right in front of the King with your short sword in his hand. He wasted no time and plunged it right in,” Menna said.