Quest of the Wizardess

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Quest of the Wizardess Page 27

by Guy Antibes


  “Yezza was your mother?”

  Jukuto laughed. “Stepmother and the same age as me.”

  Information clicked in his head. “But you killed your father.”

  “Things aren’t always what they seem. Yezza was to be sold because she was too much of a temptation to my brother. Nokuto wanted Yezza, even though she was my father’s wife. I wanted to become a scholar. It was a messy situation. I ended up fighting my father in a duel. Yezza sneaked up behind and ran him through as I was doing the same. She ran. I was banished. My marriage to Meeni annulled by Nokuto. That is why I have never married.”

  Bellia shook her head. Could nothing be simple in this life? Even Pock had family problems.

  Ten men pushed their way through the people lining the fighting ground.

  “Do you know any of these?”

  “No. They are all young and fast. You can be assured they are Nokuto’s best.”

  “And me.” Nokuto pushed through. He wore an old mail coat with leather patches.

  “My brother grows from dishonor to dishonor.” Jukuto said quietly.

  “Attack!” Nokuto yelled. Ulu was the first to close the gap. Bellia saw the flashing blue eyes.

  “Watch Ulu’s back, but stay away from his blade!” Bellia said to Jukuto as she moved towards Nokuto and his double swords.

  Nokuto was much faster than Manatoka. Bellia’s attempts to slap the blade one way or another had much less affect. This was no trivial opponent. They fought, blades clashing with near misses on both sides. Bellia moved Nokuto around so she could check on her other companions. Jukuto was a better swordsman than Bellia thought a mere scholar should be. Ulu kept mowing his opponents down. None matched the guardian’s speed or ferocity. Soon, ten of the best fighters of the Wolf clan let their blood soak into the Layer.

  “Stop, Ulu!” Bellia yelled and barely saw Ulu’s shoulders slump as Nokuto’s blade sliced into Bellia’s short sword arm. Her three-fingered grip on the weapon, just about loosened, but the adrenaline of the fight increased now that she didn’t have to worry about her friends.

  Honor would accept Jukuto and Ulu joining in with Bellia to dispatch Nokuto, but Bellia signaled them to stay back.

  Nokuto finally looked over at the two men standing in the midst of the Nokuto’s picked men and that was the opening Bellia needed. She feinted low with her Pock sword and sliced the throat of Nokuto open with her short sword. All of his tribe tokens jangled to the ground. “The mighty chief of the Wolf tribe has fallen heavily to the earth and his blood now feeds the Layer,” she said.

  Bellia fell back, sitting hard on the ground, clutching her arm. Tribesmen and women rushed to the fallen and to Ulu and Jukuto with cloths and buckets of water.

  Meeni ran to her husband and hugged him, then looked after his wounds.

  “You are our chief,” an old man said, hobbling to Bellia. “All of the tribe heard Nokuto’s boast. I have never seen such a fight. You did warn him fairly and gave him a fine farewell. Winna is proud.”

  The old man looked at Bellia’s wolf token. “You already wear the wolf? Yezza stole it long ago.” He must not have been close when Nokuto first confronted her.

  “I told Nokuto, I defeated Yezza many months ago and she gave it to me.”

  “The gods work their wonders.” He helped Bellia up. “Meeni, how is my grandson? It looks like I lost one and gained one back in the same day.”

  Bellia stood in a daze. Two women dragged out a camp chair from Nokuto’s tent for Bellia, their new chief.

  “Jukuto, what are your wounds?”

  “He’ll live,” Meeni said with a dazzling smile. “As will the guardian, minus the tip of an ear.

  “Is there a healer in the camp?” Bellia asked. The tribe members shook their heads.

  The old man stood behind him. “My son and Nokuto wanted no healers in the camp. We haven’t had a real healer in over twenty-five years since I was chief.”

  Jukuto hobbled over to Bellia. “Grandfather. I am glad to see you well. As you can see, Bellia, the Layer has only had a taste of our blood. Even less of the Guardian, now that his ear and shoulder are bound.

  Bellia looked at her tightly bound arm. “Let’s go into your brother’s tent. My arm certainly requires a seamstress and I have some poultices in my pack that will speed our healing; herbal remedies from the Reberrants.”

  The old man looked at his grandson. “Guardians, grandfather. It seems they have a name.”

  ~

  Bellia’s left arm felt better with the stitches and the blue paste. All of them felt better. Six of the ten fighters ended up surviving their wounds and Bellia shared the salve with them.

  “Five dead is five too many,” Bellia said to Jukuto. “As chief of the Wolf tribe what are my powers?”

  “You can do much.”

  “Can I restore the status of one who has been banished?”

  Jukuto’s eyes brightened. “You can, Bellia.”

  “Can I choose a successor as chief?”

  “Under certain circumstances.”

  Meeni sat with her husband. Bellia saw the hope rise with every sentence.

  “Meeni, call the tribal elders to proclaim the chief’s decisions.”

  “At once.” She ran from the tent.

  “You don’t mean to make me chief,” Jukuto said.

  “I do. Do you know one more worthy? You fought with Ulu and I in the duel. You have as much right as anyone. More since you are the son and grandson of chiefs, not to mention the brother of one.”

  “But Togolath.”

  “What were you going to do in Togolath?”

  “Follow you. Perhaps make my way to the Temple of the Blind God.”

  Bellia laid his hand on Jukuto’s shoulder. “Tell me, who would make the better chief among the Wolves, Ulu, me or you? We shall make the decision that’s best for our people, right?”

  “Right.” Jukuto grinned.

  Tribal elders were assembled and ratified Bellia as chief. Then Bellia reinstated Jukuto to the tribe as well as his marriage to Meeni, if both of them agreed.

  “One more thing. I relinquish my title as chief to Jukuto. My personal journey takes me elsewhere and I know of none better to take my place. Here is a new token for the tribe.” Bellia pulled a chain from the pocket in her skirt and hanging from the chain in a golden frame sat a round yellow gem. She had the jewel mounted while they waited for the council to arrive. The golden eye of a wolf will be the symbol of the Wolf Tribe. It will never be given over in a duel and will always remain as a possession of the tribe. She gave Jukuto the jewel and Nokuto’s wolf’s head token.

  “Your jewel, Jukuto.”

  “The greatest jewel you gave me sits there,” Jukuto said pointing to his wife. “You now have two tribes at your disposal.”

  “And now where will you go?”

  “To Togolath and Grianna from there,” Bellia smiled.

  Jukuto gave Bellia the twisting nod.

  ~

  “I am glad I do not have to listen to the words of the plains people who I do not understand,” Ulu said as Bellia and they continued their trip by themselves.

  “Jukuto came with us at the call of the gods.” Bellia sang.

  “I know. I could feel their will through you. Mighty deeds will be sung by the Middab about the marvelous trip of a wandering goddess.”

  “And of her Reberrant companion.” Would Bellia ever get Ulu to stop calling her a god?

  ~~~

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Troubles on the Trail

  ~

  The horses seemed tired. Bellia declared a day of rest from their travels. Ulu offered to leave on foot and hunt for fresh meat. He’d wanted to go out at night and return the next day.

  Bellia set up the tent and leaned against her saddle after she hobbled the three horses by the stream just down the knoll from camp. She rummaged around in her pack and pulled out the book from the Temple. She’d been reluctant to pull it out in front of J
ukuto.

  The wrapping uncovered the silver-gold pages. The odd printing on top of the leaves, again reminded her of thick ink. It took a few sentences to get her mind remembering the language of the parchment.

  As she read, she sat up straighter. She had to read passages over a few times on the theory of magic. Her father had books and books on the theory of the codes, but none spoke of magic generated from one’s mind.

  Bellia looked at her mangled hand. She didn’t dare to think wizardry might be opened up to her after all. She read into the evening, by the light of the campfire. In the morning, she rose with the dawn and continued to read. Her mind absorbed the words and the meanings.

  Ulu came back with a string of birds and rabbits.

  “Can you prepare those for travel?” Bellia sang. “I am learning much from this.”

  Ulu bowed at the sight of the book. “I can if we stay another day or two while these get a bit of smoke and heat from a fire and dry out in the sun.” Bellia nodded her assent, and then he went to work.

  Bellia glanced up from time to time, seeing Ulu tend to the midday meal and walk the horses. Light departed from the sky while she finished memorizing the words of the book.

  “You have learned many things?” Ulu sang.

  “My access to magic might be restored through the use of these words. Our options expand. Tomorrow I will try to put into practice what I have learned.”

  Bellia expected to have a hard time sleeping that night, but her next thought was of the bright light on her eyes when Ulu opened the tent flap, letting the rising sun invade the shelter.

  “Such power.” Bellia sang. “I can see why the gods bound magic on the earth to the codes.”

  “You often speak of codes. What are they?”

  “Do you remember the marks on the pages I gave Trill? Those are codes that tell someone playing a flute what holes to cover. Magic is more complex, but instead of one note, a magician punches a code by sticking different fingers out.

  “It restricts what a magician can do. This,” Bellia held up the book, “tells how to perform magic by thinking instructions up here.” She tapped her forehead. There is a sequence of thoughts, but they are thoughts, not hand signals. You can send your thoughts through a pointed finger or something they call a wand or staff. They have no power other than to help mentally focus magical power and point it where you wish it to go. Even a pointed finger would work.”

  “This sounds like a dangerous concept.”

  “It’s what caused the wizard wars. Wizards with unfettered power were recruited by one of the gods. One against eleven and it caused the diminishment of all deity on the face of Gleanere. No wonder the gods’ power might have been used up fighting men with this kind of capability.”

  “You want to use this power?” Ulu looked uncomfortable. Bellia still didn’t know whose side the Reberrants were on.

  “Do you feel a hostility to the power of magic?”

  “No. The visions make me feel wonderful. But sheer power makes me uneasy.”

  “Perhaps your people fought the wizards.”

  Ulu shook his head. “We do not know. Our memories do not go that far back and your playing at the Temple did not show it.”

  “I’m going to try to do some magic today. I don’t know if it will work. Perhaps the binding will prevent the techniques from working. If something happens to me, take everything in my pockets, book and the pack and return to your people. Let my body stay here to become one with the Layer.” Bellia laughed. “That sounds dire doesn’t it?”

  “I will observe from afar.” Ulu sang.

  Bellia didn’t blame him for wanting some distance. She sat cross-legged about fifteen paces from the tent on a clear stretch of ground. She held a bird feather as a focus. She picked up a fist-sized rock along the way and placed it a few paces away.

  She pictured three lines of power moving from the sky, the ground and the layer all around converging in a point in her skull. Just as the book described it, the point in her mind began to glow. She pointed the feather at the rock and thought about the rock moving up with the feather.

  The rock shifted in its place and began to rise. Bellia continued to concentrate and put more power to the rock. Suddenly the point within her mind moved out of her head along the sightline of the feather and when she saw it touch the rock, it exploded. Shards flew everywhere. The sound deafened Bellia, as the particles struck her body and the shock wave pushed her over. She lay there looking up at the sky. Ulu’s face appeared in her vision.

  “Are you all right?” Ulu sang, but Bellia could hardly hear her friend.

  “Help me up.”

  Ulu spent the next hour pulling tiny pieces of rock from Bellia’s body.

  “I don’t know what’s worse, your digging out pieces of rock with that knife of yours or the original wound?” Bellia sang as Ulu used the blue salve sparingly as a great deal of the ointment had been used to cure the wounds of the Wolf warriors.

  “I’ll have to buy a new shirt. This is nearly indecent.” Bellia lifted up her uniform shirt. The cloth had thinned out through the months, but now a myriad of holes had shredded it to tatters. She was down to the band of white cloth that bound her breasts. “We’ll save the buttons.” At least she could smile at her feeble jokes, feeling like a child that had burned herself on her mother’s stove.

  As they packed to leave the next morning, Bellia wrapped the book up with remains of her tattered shirt as a reminder of the power of the book.

  She found herself tempted to read the book again, but Bellia’s memory was such that most of the book still bounced around in her mind. Further practice would only happen after Rullon had a chance to help her with the instructions.

  ~

  The mountains between the plains and Togolath rose up on the horizon. The plains ended at a set of ridges in the land that went from north to south as far as Bellia could see. After crossing a few of hills, they came to a road that lead northwest, passing a nearly empty cart. The driver didn’t quite have the look of a plainsman.

  “Were are you headed?” Bellia asked as she rode alongside the wagon.

  The man squinted at Bellia. “I’m going to Little Water to pick up supplies for my station back there.” The man pointed back over his shoulder. “Trade with the plains people.”

  “You have a little of the look of the Middab,” Bellia said.

  “I better, my mother was of the Cat tribe.”

  “We met them not long after we started to cross the plains. Do you know Manatoka?”

  The man shivered. “As fierce a warrior as I knew.”

  “He didn’t compare to Nokuto of the Wolf,” Bellia said. She found herself baiting this man.

  “They’re both men I’d not like to meet. Say, if you’re heading to Little Water, perhaps you might be interested in riding with me.”

  “For a bit,” Bellia said. “We’ll see what kind of pace you hold.”

  That night, the man covered his wagon with a patchwork of oilcloth and slept in the back. Bellia and Ulu decided not to set the tent up and slept out under the stars. They weren’t really in the plains anymore. The grass grew much shorter this close to the mountains.

  After the moon set, Bellia shut her eyes thinking about the book. She heard a faint grinding on the dirt. The stars were blotted out over her head as she barely saw the glint of a knife in the merchant’s hand. Before the man could plunge the blade in Bellia’s chest, Bellia lifted up her arm and held the man’s wrist, but not before the knife slid along to top of her hand. She twisted his wrist and the knife fell to the ground.

  Ulu lit a torch with his tinder box and shed a little light on them.

  “I don’t like strangers on the road. They might rob me.” The man said, terror in his eyes.

  Bellia sat on top of him, while Ulu applied some of the blue salve to her bleeding hand. She leaned over and said,” Perhaps I’m not the one that’s done the thieving.” The tribe tokens hung down from her throat to the
man’s face.

  “You are one strong lady.” His eyes grew when they focused on the tokens. “Where did you get those? Are they real?”

  “I fought Manatoka of the Cat and defeated him. I fought Nokuto of the Wolf and killed him. Yes, these are real.”

  The man fainted dead away. Bellia tied him up with his own rope and looked back at the wagon. She rummaged her way through the man’s possessions. A letter said his load was ready to pickup at Wanato Springs. No mention of Little Water. Clothes were wadded up to use as a pillow. They were made for a shorter, fatter man.

  “We’ll throw him in the wagon and take him to Little Water, or whatever village or town we come to first and let them deal with a murderer.”

  The man wouldn’t stop pleading for his life. Bellia had to rip part of the man’s shirt off to use as a gag. A few days later, Bellia and Ulu, sitting in the cart with their horses strung out behind them, entered farming country. The road dipped down from the edge of the mountains and followed a little river past plowed fields and stands of trees sheltering farmhouses.

  “Is this Little Water?” Bellia asked a man walking away from the little town carrying a sack.

  “It is. I don’t think we have any harvest left to sell this time of year. Wanato Springs south of here ‘bout five leagues has some late apples and squash. You could go there.”

  Bellia thanked him for his information and stopped the wagon at a guardhouse. She jumped down from the wagon and walked in. The houses in town were mostly made out of wood contrasting with all the stone farmhouses they passed coming in.

  She opened the door. A uniformed guard sat with his feet on a wooden table.

  “I think I have a murderer in the wagon outside.”

  The guard squinted at Bellia. “What makes you think that?”

  “For one, he tried to kill me in my sleep. For two, there are clothes much too small for him and a letter about picking up a harvest in Wanato Springs, but he said he was heading here.”

  “Here you say?” The guard perked up. “We picked up a suspicious character yesterday. He’s in the back. Maybe they’re partners.”

 

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