by Guy Antibes
“Yes, Mistress Lonsi,” Ricky said.
He quickly disassembled his tent. Kela had made things worse when she tried to loosen Siria’s tent.
“It’s okay. You just do everything in reverse,” Ricky said to her as they proceeded to take the larger tent down.
Ricky looked at the rest of the camp, trying to leave. It was utter chaos. Mattia and two other men yelled at the boys. In the end, somber inmates piled the tents and metal weapons onto one wagon, with Mattia’s tent as a cover. It left first, while the guards distributed bread to the inmates before boarding the other wagons.
The wagon with the food and the rest of the command tents left last, leaving the carriage.
“Get in,” Mattia said, his face echoed the fury he must have felt.
Ricky let Siria climb into the carriage unaided, after which he helped Kela inside, followed by himself.
“Is Master Poppi going with the others?” Kela asked.
Mattia’s face darkened. “I shouldn’t have let him talk me into this,” he said. “Baco will not be returning with us. Consider his absence an unfortunate turn of events.”
“He resigned?” Ricky said.
“We will not discuss it.”
Ricky looked questioningly at Siria, who shook her head slightly, indicating nothing should be said. They traveled in the morning. Ironically, the day dawned bright and clear, if a little chilly.
Now that Ricky could see the countryside, Mattia had set up the camp to the northeast of Applia. Ricky looked out at a view of Paranty he had never seen before. Pockets of mist, looking like raw cotton, covered the fields, reflecting the pale yellow light. Thin pillars of smoke from farmhouse cooking fires rose straight up in the still air.
Ricky wondered if the farmhouse still smoked with burnt bodies inside. He wanted to shudder at the thought, but controlled himself, breathing deeply and steadily.
“You look tired again,” Siria said.
“All that magic we practiced, coupled with tearing down the tents and rushing to get back didn’t make for a restful day, although I slept well enough,” Ricky said. He kept his eyes on the countryside, not venturing to look at the still-fuming Mattia.
An hour later, Mattia sighed. “You’ll find out soon enough. Baco is dead, along with three other inmates.”
“Dead?” Kela said, looking astonished.
Mattia nodded, his face showing disappointment. “He took the boys out on a midnight march last night. Things got out of hand, and a farming family died, burned in their farmhouse. Baco and three inmates stayed behind to cover their tracks when others came and killed them.”
“The inmates killed the family?” Ricky said.
Mattia glared at Ricky. “You must keep that quiet.” He looked at Kela. “You, too. No one must know. Baco wanted them ‘bloodied,' although he didn’t clear that part with me. The rest of the troops are shocked we are leaving early. That a few of them are missing makes it all the worse.”
They didn’t look too shocked when they attacked the family, Ricky thought. The idea that Baco’s death would shock them after what they did to the farmer didn’t matter to Ricky. He definitely wouldn’t say a word about the incident, except to Saganet when the time was right.
“I’m shocked,” Ricky said. “You’re sure he didn’t just run away or something. Maybe the boys took off, and he followed them.”
Mattia shook his head. “It will set our preparations behind. There are those who won’t be happy, not at all.”
Ricky looked at Siria, who stared at Mattia. “Even extra time won’t help the other boys become battle sorcerers,” she said. “They can summon flames with uncertain control. Only Torris and Valian have anything close to the qualifications.”
Mattia pressed his lips together. “I’ll have Antino Pacci take care of it. You’re sure?”
“I’m sure, Master Mattia,” Ricky said. He was going to say that Franken had more ability than the others did, but he kept his mouth shut.
Mattia’s black mood became even more dour when they entered the outskirts of Applia. Ricky kept his eyes on the road, trying to learn what he could about Applia. He didn’t know what would happen at the Home now.
“Take the rest of the day off,” Siria said. “Both of you look drained by what’s happened. We will meet again for second-hour tomorrow morning.”
Mattia told them to run into the Home and go directly to their rooms. Lunch would be served in less than an hour.
~~~
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
~
T HE COOKS WERE UNPREPARED FOR THE INMATES to return so early, but the returning boys and remaining children ate buttered bread with shredded meat. Ricky finished his food off. The dining hall had never been so silent.
Ricky wanted to talk to Henni, but once he put his head on his pillow, he slept until the middle of the night. He walked to the washroom and cleaned his body with hot water he warmed up using a bit of his magic.
He wished he could wash off the taint of what he had witnessed the previous night, but the images seemed to blossom anew in his mind. Animals. His fellow inmates had turned into animals. Ricky had seen cruelty before, but never such casual killing, such enjoyable killing, especially for a few. What the boys had enjoyed, Ricky abhorred.
Nightmares rode his dreams the rest of the night, and he looked forward to the dawn, unlike the morning before. Ricky walked the halls to the dining hall. Breakfast seemed to be back to normal. His appetite, the one he thought had recovered, withered. He struggled to stuff a few spoonfuls of porridge down his throat and finally gave up on his breakfast.
“What is wrong with you?” Henni said when Ricky appeared during the first hour. “I should say what’s wrong with the Home? My peers are spreading rumors of a disaster outside these walls.”
Ricky nodded. He had little energy for the conversation. “A few inmates did not return along with one of the instructors.”
“Baco Poppi?”
“That’s the one,” Ricky said.
Henni frowned. “He is a bad one.”
“Was a bad one.”
“He left his position?”
Ricky nodded again. “You could say that. He is deceased, but don’t ask me for any details. Some of our excursion should remain a secret.”
“That’s the cause of the early return?”
“It is. Three boys as well.”
Henni made a face of pain and then smiled. “You’re okay, so I’m okay. I never did like Poppi. He boasted that no one ever defeated him on the battlefield or practice field.”
“There is always a first time,” Ricky said.
“So where does that put Nemo Mattia?”
“Nemo? That’s his first name?” Ricky asked.
“It is.”
“I got the impression that he would just have to put off whatever timetable he had.”
“Timetable for what?” Henni asked.
Ricky shrugged. “It’s an army of youth,” Ricky said. “They trained and marched as a unit of two or three hundred young soldiers.”
“Did you train with them?”
“No, the sorcerers went along for the ride. We had a day of instruction, but everything was cut short. Something happened on the night after we arrived. Something about a farmer.” Ricky shook his head, but he was the only one in the world who knew what happened. “In the morning when I woke up, we broke camp as fast as we could and headed back to the Home, leaving Master Poppi and the inmates behind.”
Henni nodded his head. “The warden spread the word that we weren’t to say anything about a lack of inmates after you left because she stated everyone would be returning in four or five days. No one expected your excursion to last less than two.”
“The entire experience was weird. Kela and I rode in a carriage with Master Poppi, Master Mattia, and Mistress Lonsi. I think because I’m still recuperating—”
“You still don’t look very healthy,” Henni said.
“I’m not well. Kela was the o
nly girl. So we got a little special treatment. I didn’t mind. I slept in my own tent and Kela spent two nights with Mistress Lonsi. I am totally exhausted from all the activity.”
“A couple of girls came down yesterday and looked around the library. They only lasted a short time before they ran back up the stairs. Probably on a dare.” Henni chuckled. “That makes two sets of visitors since you started coming down here. The inmates haven’t changed their regard for the library. A place to feel scared, that’s how most inmates regard this place. You might want to check on your books.”
Ricky nodded and found the book on battle sorcery exactly where he had left it. He looked up spells for the five tasks that Siria wanted them to perform. Fainting was the same as she had taught. Ricky found a better spell for rubble, but he couldn’t test it.
All the visualizations described in the book were more descriptive and had more discussion about matching will to the effects than other books he had read, once he worked with the archaic terms and language. The trick ended up being finding the right resonance to match the visualization. He puzzled out the same warnings about experimentation from the time he started learning about sorcery.
He had skimmed over the section to take another’s life a couple of times as he flipped through the book. It only consisted of a few pages. It wasn’t so much a technique as it was a philosophy. There were many ways to kill an animal and a human being, but it all involved disrupting the normal processes of breathing, blood flow, and thinking.
He had killed Frank by cutting off blood flow when he froze his chest. Ricky closed his eyes and thought of other ways he could have killed Baco. He didn’t have the skills to destroy thinking of anything other than cutting off breathing and blood flow, but it was apparent in the book that there were ways. The writer of the book didn’t feel the need to mention any. Was killing another human being so easy?
Ricky decided that it probably was, but using a weapon, fighting for one’s life seemed the most appropriate way, even though Ricky cheated. He didn’t feel any guilt. Baco drove the boys to the farmhouse and approved of the slaughter. He deserved to die under any circumstances. The revelation that Lady Taranta had suborned Master Poppi was the real surprise. Did Pisan include Poppi in her revenge, or was it the other way around? Ricky guessed it didn’t matter. At least there was one less assassin in the Home.
Ricky closed his eyes and leaned back. He was just about asleep again when he heard voices at Henni’s desk. He quickly traded books and opened up a history book that he had already read.
Siria Lonsi walked into the section where Ricky sat. He jumped up. If she read the spines of the sorcery books, Ricky wouldn’t know what to do.
“Come with me,” she said, flatly.
Ricky readily obeyed, not knowing if she had discovered his part in the deaths of the inmates and Master Poppi. He also wanted to leave the library as soon as he could to protect the treasures from Mistress Lonsi. He shrugged as he walked past Henni and followed his sorcery teacher to their classroom.
“You look ragged,” Siria said.
Ricky sighed. “I’ve never really recovered from the beating. Even my toes are still sore.”
“I suppose you should have stayed in bed longer. Part of that is my fault. Mirano Bespa is in Applia. He’s a good friend from my days in Duteria. I’ve asked him to take a look at you, but he refuses to set foot inside the Home. I want to make sure my previous ministrations didn’t complicate anything. Warden Sarini has approved a pass for today. I must accompany you,” she said. “We’ll go now.”
Ricky nodded and sighed as he followed her out of the classroom. He wanted to tell Henni that he wouldn’t be back, but then, maybe his time spent with Mirano Bespa would only take a few minutes.
They passed Warden Sarini on the way out. She only nodded as if nothing had happened two nights ago northwest of Applia. Ricky had expected a summons to her office by now, but all he got was the nod.
Siria showed Ricky’s pass to the guard at the gate, and he was free from the confines of the Home yet again. He wondered if he should escape, but decided he just didn’t feel well enough to travel to Tossa all on his own.
They walked to a large square. Ricky noticed theaters, hotels, and restaurants bordering a park in the middle. Statues and paved walkways broke up the yellow grass. Flower beds were already put to sleep, awaiting winter. A few trees still carried their leaves breaking up the bleakness.
Siria led him to a hotel next to a theater. Perhaps Bespa traveled to Applia with a troupe of performance sorcerers. They walked into an opulent lobby. Velvet and satin adorned the walls, and upholstered furniture contrasted with tables with white stone tops and black painted metal frames.
“He is in Room 212,” Siria said as she walked up a sweeping stairway. In a way, it reminded Ricky of the Administration Building at Doubli Academy, but everything was more polished, more decorated, and to his mind, more garish.
They padded down a thickly carpeted hallway to Bespa’s room. She knocked on the door.
“Siria,” Bespa said.
His eyes painted her face. Ricky realized their friendship was an intimate one. He tore his gaze away from Siria and glanced at Ricky.
“Valian, it hasn’t been too long, has it?”
Ricky shook his head. “No, Master Bespa.”
“Come in. I’ll examine Ricky and ask him a few questions about Doubli Academy.”
Siria walked in first. He noticed her brush her hand against Bespa’s. He didn’t shrink from the touch, the way Ricky would have.
“Remove your cloak and get on the lounge,” Bespa said.
Ricky lay down on a backless couch. Bespa pulled up a stool. He unbuttoned Ricky’s shirt, which made him uncomfortable. It felt odd being examined in a hotel room, but Bespa went right to work, and when Ricky closed his eyes, his thoughts went back to the infirmary at the academy where Bespa had saved Ricky’s life.
He put his hand on Ricky’s head. Ricky immediately felt the power-link engage.
So we meet again, young Valian, Bespa said. Has your stay in that vile Juvenile Home met your expectations?
I’m still alive. I’m not tortured every moment like I imagined.
Bespa nodded. You obviously discovered the secret to power-linking. My worries that I gave you enough information to go on proved to be true. What are you doing with the concept?
Nothing right now, Ricky said. Baron Mansali uses it for his business. We did some experimentation this summer. I was able to link with his daughter, but she has found a romantic interest, and the intimacy required for linking long distances no longer exists.
Bespa laughed. So you don’t know everything. You had me worried for a bit. I don’t hold a grudge that you found out. There are developments that must remain hidden for now. All I can ask is for you to go slow. You would be an excellent candidate for further studies in Duteria. Contact me before you make any commitments to the Royal University. Duteria isn’t all you’ve been told. Now, let’s see what is going on with you. I will put you to sleep.
Ricky panicked for a moment, but then everything became hazy, and he blacked out. Sunlight brushed across his eyes when he woke.
“It’s afternoon!” Ricky said, sitting up. He put a blanket on his bare chest.
“What a marvel, you are,” Siria said sarcastically. “Mirano is asleep in the bedroom,” she said. “You wore him out.”
“I was worse than you thought?” Ricky said.
“Mirano has saved your life again. You had a spleen that was half dead and liver damage as well. Luckily, he didn’t see anything wrong with your thick head. He was surprised you lasted as long as you did.”
“So I’ll get my energy back?”
“You will, and that’s why Mirano slumbers. He says two days of bed rest. I’m putting you back in the Home infirmary. Part of it is my fault for pushing for your recovery.”
Ricky thought about that. “I’m responsible. I didn’t want to be bound to the bed.”
Ricky put his head back on the lounge’s pillow. “I suppose you have to do what you have to do when the occasion arises.”
Siria leaned forward. “Why do you say that?”
“I had to help put up the tents. I had magic to create when we held our classes.” How much did Siria know or suspect? “All that I did drained my energy.”
She got to her feet and paced the room. “I’ll only tell you this once,” she said. “Baco once told me someone paid him a great deal of money to kill you if the opportunity arose. I thought he had already done so when your tent was empty the morning after we arrived at Mattia’s camp.”
“He played with me, then. I think to let down my guard, which he probably did,” Ricky said. “I’m fortunate he didn’t get another chance.”
Siria had never told him or warned him. She brought him here to be healed, so a healthy Ricky Valian must suit her purposes.
“You will still need to be on your guard,” she said.
Her words gave him even less incentive to trust her, but what else could he do?
Bespa appeared in the doorway. He wore a lounging robe. “I heard voices. How do you feel, young Valian?”
“I feel the same, drained, but then that is to be expected, isn’t it?”
The man grinned. “Good observation.”
“Mistress Lonsi said I still needed two days’ rest.”
“Siria is correct, but you should feel better tomorrow, as long as you eat something. I suspect your appetite was on the low side.”
Ricky nodded.
“We will eat at the hotel restaurant before Siria takes you back inside that despicable place.” Bespa made a disagreeable face.
Ricky buttoned up his shirt, facing away from Siria, while Bespa left them and returned wearing different clothes.
“I prefer the robe of a healer, but I get too many stares in public places. Shall we?” Bespa said.
The man was in a jubilant mood. Ricky wondered if he had renewed an intimate relationship with Siria while Ricky slept since Siria looked as happy as he had ever seen her at the Home.