by Guy Antibes
Fred walked back into the room. “All set. Found a bed of sorts. I e’en found her a chamber pot.” He grinned.
“Don’t get attached to her. No ransom and the girl’s dead.” Mortie took another swig. “Cook us that rabbit you snared last night. There’s plenty of furniture that’ll feed a fire.”
Fred went to work. Soon the pair sat on the stone floor eating cooked rabbit and drinking tea drawn from the still-working water pump in the kitchen.
I wasn’t thrilled about the destruction to my abode. I went to the room in the west wing and looked at the girl, bound and sitting on the edge of a broken-down bed. She wore a blue silk dress, which accentuated her auburn hair. She was just getting into the flower of her womanhood. Maybe thirteen or fourteen, I thought.
“Boo,” I said softly and made myself visible with a smile on my face to soften the blow of my sudden appearance. Perhaps I could at least cheer her up.
The girl looked at me impassively and remained silent.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
She looked away and then back at me. “They’re going to kill me. Maybe I’ll soon be a ghost just like you, so why should I be afraid? They got the wrong one. I was trying on some of Mistress Moria’s clothes and they thought I was the little mistress herself. Such morons.”
Anger wasn’t quite the reaction I expected. However, I perked up at the thought of another ghost around the manse. “You don’t see a way out?”
“No. What’s a servant girl going to do?”
“Did you tell them?”
“Do I look stupid? Of course I told them. They didn’t believe me. Now I have a ghost to escort me to heaven.” She rolled her eyes up towards the ceiling with exasperation and then back at me.
I sat down, trying to feel her pain and, surprisingly, I succeeded. “I’m sorry, I can’t accompany you to heaven. I’m stuck in my mansion. Is there no hope?”
“Nope.” She sat up and wriggled away from sharing space with me and looked away, clamping her mouth and folding her arms. I knew enough that the audience had ended.
I rose and walked back to the main room to look at the two kidnappers. The little one had just finished writing something and waved a scrap of parchment back and forth.
“We’ll give them a few days.” Mortie took an old fragment of wax and sealed the letter. “Now we’ll go deliver it when we get there in the evening. A day waiting for an answer and a day back.”
“What about the girl?”
“Water will do. Her ladyship has a chamberpot, thanks to your unending kindness. You sure her right arm and legs are tied up?”
Fred gave Mortie a confident look. “I was a sailor, right?”
“Why aren’t you a sailor now?”
The confident look fled.
~
“They’ll be back any time, most likely,” I told Essie, the girl’s real name.
“Are you sure you can’t undo these ropes?”
I gave her a forlorn look. “I’m lucky to make an end wiggle.”
“Well, as much as I hate to admit it, you’ve been a good friend these last days. I won’t forget you.” Her words warmed what little remained of my heart.
“Nor I you.” I patted Essie’s hand even though I knew she wouldn’t feel it. “I haven’t had a friend for decades, even before I died. I’m afraid I wasn’t a very nice man.”
“But you were an Earl.”
“An Earl for less than a day. I was a fourth son. Everyone else in my family had a place except for me. I left home at fifteen. I had money and my father would send enough if I didn’t ask for too much. My brothers all died and he moved into town five years before he passed away and the house began to molder. I’m afraid I drank too much and loved the wrong women too much.” I had never told anyone about my days of dissipation since my demotion to an ‘enchanted spirit’ and it made me rather sad.
“Ne’er do well, eh?” she said.
“What do you know about ne’er do wells?”
“Most families have one or more. My brother, Bob. He left. Became a drunk like you and a robber. Ended up at the end of a rope in another country somewhere.” She sighed. “He was the second child. I am the end of the line for my family, like you.” She let out a quick bark of a laugh but it came across as sort of a sign of silent desperation.
“We’ll find a way. Even if I can’t strike a blow in your behalf, my lady,” I bowed and, as I rose, the glimpse of the barest of a smile flitted across her face. My existence seemed to be reduced to making a fourteen-year-old girl pleased.
“Lady,” she said half to herself.
The front door slammed. “Where is she?” Mortie’s voice shook the manor. He stalked into the room, his traveling pack still on, followed by a sad-looking Fred.
“Thought you’d fool us, eh?” Mortie looked through bloodshot eyes and I knew that the man was as much in the thrall of drink as he had often been.
Essie squinted her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t Mistress Moria. I was just trying on some of her clothes on the sly. You didn’t believe me.”
“Just about got us hanged, you did!” Mortie’s face reddened even more from anger. He struck her in the face. I was utterly helpless to lend Essie any kind of assistance.
“Here now, Mortie.” Fred removed his pack and walked up behind his partner. “She’s right. I ‘member her trying to tell us.”
Mortie pulled a knife and turned around to face his partner, pointing the tip of his knife at Fred’s throat. “Don’t you walk up behind me like that!” The drink was doing as much talking as Mortie at this point. He turned back to the girl. I gave him a little push, for me it was an all-out shove. Mortie swung around and his knife sliced open Fred’s shirt, but didn’t break the skin.
“That’s enough, ‘ere. I’m goin’ to let her go.” Fred moved past Mortie and started to untie the bonds at Essie’s feet.
“No you’re not.” Mortie plunged the dagger into Fred’s back. The big man’s body fell on the girl.
Essie screamed. Mortie stood there for a few minutes. I knew Mortie was trying to get his mind to work properly and once he did, the little man would silence the only witness to Fred’s murder.
I felt worse than useless. Fred had some regards for Essie and now I’d been the catalyst of his death and sealed Essie’s fate. What could I do?
The only thing that came to mind was the wizard’s glowing eyes. I doubted that would work with Mortie. To pierce his inebriated mind, I’d need to attempt a really special haunting, so I tried something I hadn’t done before. I appeared as a flaming body. It worked! My wails didn’t spoil the effect at all.
Mortie’s eyes bulged from his face, his mouth dropped open and he turned around and fled, chased by the flaming spectre. I made it out across the gravel drive and all the way to the edge of the grounds where I slammed into the invisible barrier that kept me bound to the house. Mortie never turned around and disappeared over a rise in the road.
“How are you?” I looked down at Essie already working on cutting her bonds on the knife still plunged deep in the big man’s back. Soon she rubbed her wrist and ankles, and then she rolled Fred onto the floor. There he lay dead, eyes up, on the floor. A touch of hope lit me up. Not in flames, but I looked around for another ghost friend to keep me company, but it was not to be. Fred had gone to a different place.
“There! I’m free. Let’s go, Gristan.” She began rummaging through Fred’s pack.
I stood there, my flames gone. “I can’t go with you.”
“Yes you can. You saved my life. You’re wonderful.” She looked at me smiling, her defensiveness totally cast off for a moment. I could now feel a bit wonderful for helping save Essie.
“I’m bound to this place.” I’d have given anything to go with her, but reality sobered up my elation.
We both stood facing each other. Sadness filled the air.
“You stay? I go?” Essie pursed her lips.
I nodded. “I do have one request and it’s a big
one. Can you remove his body? I do live here you know, and it may seem odd, but I can smell a little.” My face broke out into a smile amd we both laughed.
“I’ll do it! I’m stronger than I look,” she said.
Later we stood outside over Fred’s shallow grave.
“I have something to show you, Essie. Come with me.” I led her back into the manse and stood in front of the fireplace. I looked down at the floor. “This is where I died.”
“I’m sorry, Gristan.” Essie tried to put her hand on my shoulder, but her hand just slipped through me.
“But that’s not it. Go into the back of the fireplace and pull out this brick.” I pointed out the wizard’s hiding spot. She had to use the rusted fire poker to pry the brick out.
“This is beautiful,” she said, pulling out the jeweled amulet.
“That stays. It’s a beacon or something that the wizard left. You might be in danger of him finding you if you took that. It’s the bag.”
Essie hauled out the heavy leather sack and opened it up. “Gold coins!”
I nodded. The money meant nothing to me now, but to a smart girl like Essie? A feeling of redemption filled me. Just as the wizard’s act thrust me into a different existence, that same act so long ago could now work some positive magic in Essie’s life. She grabbed some of the gold and had the heart to leave half of it behind.
“I’m leaving, but I’ll be back,” Essie said at the manor’s boundary, Fred’s pack now on her back and Mortie’s knife handle sticking out from the belt of her soiled dress. “I will.” She reached out for my face. It touched me to see her eyes brimming with tears.
“I’ll look forward to it.” I longed to feel wetness course down my own cheeks in return, but ghosts can’t cry and no ghost could feel as sad as me. Essie, like Mortie on the previous day, disappeared over the rise in the road.
I looked forward to Essie’s return, but she never did.
~~
“That’s a beautiful story, Gristan.” Norra realized how Essie might have felt towards the gentle Gristan. They walked along the pathway from the manor in silence for a bit and then Norra shivered. The sun was heading down taking what little warmth the day had left.
“I’ve never been this far before!” Gristan said.
“Maybe the boundary’s gone.”
“It’s always stopped me before.” Gristan thrust out his arms and yelled or booed or whatever sound he made. Norra couldn’t quite figure out what it sounded like.
“Oh. It must be me.” She began walking again looking at the ground.
“You?”
“I have the Master Mage’s power. He gave it to me as he died.”
“Posh! A woman?” Gristan said in disbelief.
“No one else was around when he died, but me. I have no idea how to use it, nor do I really wish to learn.”
“So if I stay around you, I can escape from here?” A look of hope on Gristan’s face gave Norra a pang of sympathy.
“I suppose. Want to go to Hiddington? That’s where we’re headed.”
“A gaggle of wizards stopped here a few weeks ago. They were headed to Hiddington to fight another faction. There are nine mages of power in Magia, each with their own fief. Without the Master Mage to keep them in line, they are starting to leak into Polda, fighting for control.”
“I thought you’ve been locked into your house?”
“I may be constrained, but these ghost ears still work. I listen every time someone spends the night and that’s more than you might think, young lady.”
“You can call me Norra, Gristan.” She looked up at his face and liked what she saw. They walked back to the house. Norra listened to more stories of the ghost’s exploits.
~
“You can’t be serious,” Fenning said. “A ghost in tow? Never heard of such a thing.”
“You’ve never heard of a female wizard and, since you see one in front of you, what makes you think a mobile ghost is an impossibility?”
Fenning threw up his hands in exasperation and walked out on them.
Norra went ahead and finished up the washing and put it out on lines where Fenning charmed the water out of the clothes. There was one last bucket of clothes and Norra tried to remember the spell, but it slipped out of her mind. She shook her head to try to bring it back. She knew she had an excellent memory. But no, the spell had disappeared.
“Do ghosts eat?” Delia said, munching on a cracker.
“No, fair maid. I neither eat nor drink, which I count as a blessing considering my attraction to drink before I achieved this state.”
Norra put her hand to her chin. “Can you disappear?”
“Like this?” Gristan winked out and then winked back.
“That is useful,” Norra said. “There might be people less, uh, tolerant than us.”
“Thank you,” Gristan said with a smile.
That smile warmed Norra, although she knew ghosts carried no warmth. He continued to remind her of Nessie, the ghost that flitted around Bordon Forest. Being a ghost didn’t prevent one from being a friend. A thought came into her head.
“Do you disappear in the snow? Nessie would get faint when it was cold.”
Gristan nodded mournfully. “Yes I do. When it’s frigid, I can’t scare anybody. Even my voice fades to a whisper. Winter makes life a bit less fun.”
“But I’ll bet you can find ways for fun even that way,” Norra said.
“Well, perhaps I can.” He smiled, looked knowingly, and bowed to Norra with a flourish. Her father used to do that when Norra was younger. She bowed back and then asked Delia what she’d like for dinner.
Fenning came in an hour later wondering when he could eat. Salt pork sizzled in their frying pan along with thinly sliced potatoes and shreds of onion. “Is he still around?” Fenning said and the little wizard looked around and even peeked around a door.
“No. He’s experimenting on how far he can go before he gets stopped,” Delia said.
“What?” Fenning grabbed a chunk of salt pork and popped it into his mouth, breathing in to cool it down.
“Hello, all.” Gristan walked through the door. “Oh that smells nice.”
Fenning sat away from Gristan. “Ghosts can smell?”
“Only faintly, there’s the sad truth.” Gristan sat down, frowning.
“Do you have to sit?” Delia asked.
“Questions, so many questions. Do you have a question that needs asking?” Gristan looked at Norra.
“No.” Norra felt a little smug at her one syllable answer. Of the three, she was the most comfortable around Gristan. Delia tolerated him and Fenning couldn’t get used to him.
“Why did you walk through the door, instead of the wall?” Fenning asked.
“Because I am kind and considerate around the ladies, Master Fenning. I can do as I please.” He glanced at Fenning and then turned to Norra. “I can do as I please for about two miles.”
Norra felt a flash of pleasure. “Wonderful,” she smiled. “That’s a long enough leash for you and if Fenning is too afraid, you can follow us out of sight.”
Gristan disappeared. “I can disappear already.” He laughed and Norra followed. Delia and Fenning just shook their heads.
The next morning, the washing continued. Norra had the hang of the process if she asked Fenning to remind her of the spell a few minutes before and she even kept the scorching to a minimum when she convinced Fenning to teach her the drying spell. However, what good was having to be reminded of a spell when you could only remember it for a minute or two?
The ghost appeared beside her. “Good morning.”
The time had come to ask the ghost about the mage’s cache in the fireplace. “Gristan. Did the Master Mage ever come for the cache he left in the house?”
“No. But as I said, Essie found it. It’s still in the fireplace in a hidden compartment there.”
“Show me,” Norra said.
He led Norra into the main hall. All of the furniture was g
one.
“All burned up, if that’s what you’re thinking. Even the tapestries.” He shook his head. They’d be moth eaten by now, anyway.” He drifted over to the fireplace and placed his toe on one of the stone blocks. “Under here.”
Norra stood there. Her heart fluttered a bit. What would the charm look like? She bent down and pried the stone up, breaking a fingernail.
She sucked on the finger and pulled out a tiny valise that seemed to turn to dust in her hand.
“Dried-out velvet. That’s not a spell.” Gristan said.
From the shredded pile of dust, Norra pulled out a huge scarlet jewel on a golden chain. A ruby perhaps? It could be worth half of her father’s estate. She pulled out an old leather purse and coins fell out of a hole at the bottom. She picked one up. It was coined in a country she didn’t recognize. She rummaged around and found a parchment.
“That one is preserved with a spell.”
Norra unfolded the parchment to reveal a map. “What’s this place? It’s over the Western Range. I thought those mountains ran right down to the sea.”
“Oh, that’s right. The wizards were driven to the west some time ago. In my time we called that Magia. The Nine Wizards of the Council lived in their towers. Their acolytes spread out among the rest of Polda, spreading havoc as counselors to rulers and nobles, until the Master Mage stopped them. “
Norra called to Fenning. “What do you know about Magia?”
He looked reluctant to say, but Norra pointed to the map.”
“It’s hidden. There’s only one easy way in. “ He traced his finger along a trail from the South Sea port in Taxia that led to a pass in the mountains. “I grew up in Magia and left as soon as I could. Wizards love the feudal life and make the less talented into servants. The people who have no talent at all are treated as slaves. I’m too afraid to go back and find out that my powers only qualify me to till the soil. It’s an easier life out in Polda. Where did you get this?”
“The Master Mage left it behind. Then maybe his tower is on it.” Fenning’s interest increased. “No one knows where his tower is.” He nearly put his nose to the map and counted out the towers, but his shoulders drooped. “I count only nine.”
Norra put her hand to her chin and thought. She took the flat ruby and looked at the map, holding the gem like a monocle. “Here it is.”