A Sorcerer Imprisoned

by Guy Antibes

  He was so intent on providing Gil information that Ricky didn’t even notice how cold it was until he spotted Siria and Kela, both shivering in the cold along with two guards.

  Gil grabbed Ricky’s arm again. “Ricky is all yours,” Gil said to the guards before leaving. He squeezed Ricky’s arm before he turned around and jogged back out of sight. Ricky hoped he had made his point. The squeeze, hopefully, was an acknowledgment.

  “How have you been?” Ricky said, jamming his hands in his pockets.

  Siria turned to the guards. “Can we go in now?”

  The men nodded and took up positions flanking the door to the shed.

  Ricky looked around, but most of the equipment had been moved to the walls, leaving a large open area. The shed was much larger than the practice cell that Ricky had used with Warden Sarini just minutes before.

  “This was as big a place as I could get,” Siria said.

  She put her hand to her ear and nodded. Antino Pacci’s guards probably had their ears to the door.

  “I’m not in very good shape,” Ricky said, “but I suppose I can practice for a bit. What do you want us to do, Mistress Lonsi?”

  “We will go through the five basic spells.”

  Kela had improved her abilities since Ricky had last seen her. They went through all but the last spell to change the direction of a thrown object. Siria found a barrel with some switches of some kind that the gardeners used to support new plants and pulled a handful out.

  “We can use these. Throw this at me to simulate an arrow coming in.”

  Ricky picked a switch up and threw it, point first, at Siria. She gave a little shout and waved her hand. The switch changed paths enough to notice.

  “I don’t think any of us will be very good at this, but that is the minimum that Antino Pacci expects. You have to shout to get the effect immediately.” Siria looked at Kela. “Show Valian.” Then she turned towards Ricky. “Send another stick.”

  Ricky smiled when Kela’s shout worked better than Siria’s. He thought about the shout and the will. In both cases, the sorceress was prepared to deflect the switch. He tried the new technique he had learned in the sorcery text, concentrating on his will first, then the visualization, and finally the shout. What kind of pitch did the shout need to be? He went through the process again and put more will into his efforts; he softly hummed until he felt the resonance.

  “This may take a few tosses,” he said.

  “May?” Kela said. “It took me more than a hundred tries before I began to get close to deflecting objects.”

  Ricky nodded to Siria. “Let’s see how I do.” He hummed a bit louder and felt the resonance fill him.

  “Try not to catch this,” Siria said.

  She put the switch between her forefinger and thumb and sent it sailing towards Ricky. He batted his hand, although he didn’t feel the need. The switch veered off course. His spells had never had such focus before. Ricky hadn’t thought the technique was much of an improvement, but it made quite a difference.

  “I’ll try a shout this time.”

  The next switch came at him faster. He shouted at the right pitch. The switch veered down to the ground and ended up at his feet.

  “How do you do that?” Siria asked. Her face showed her astonishment.

  “I’m using what you called a Duterian method. I used much more will when I visualized. It is much easier to match the resonance. Let’s try something else.” He spotted a crude door. Ricky didn’t know what the gardeners used it for, but for safety’s sake, he dragged it out. “Stand behind this when you toss the switch this time.”

  He used the same technique to create a similar spell. “Send it over.”

  Kela held the door up while Siria stood behind her and tossed another switch.

  Ricky’s hand went out as he shouted. The switch reversed course and slammed into the wall behind the two women.

  Siria walked back. “You can see where the switch hit the wall. There’s even a crack in the wood. You could direct this right back at whoever shot an arrow or threw a spear and kill whoever attacked you. I don’t think I could do that.”

  “Want to try?” Ricky said.

  He spent the rest of his time with them teaching them the technique. Although neither of them mastered it as well as Ricky, their deflection spells were much stronger, and both of them were able to reverse the course of the missiles.

  A guard opened the door. “Your time is about up,”

  “Just remember, deflections may harm those around you,” Ricky said, “so send whatever comes your way back from where it came or into the ground, if you can.”

  Mattia walked into the shed. “How did it go, Siria?”

  “We can do all five spells. When can I find out what the plan is?”

  “You’ll find out on Winter’s Day,” Mattia said. “It is time for all of you to return to your quarters.”

  Ricky held back and touched Kela’s arm, power-linking with her.

  Don’t say a word. I learned to do this before I arrived at the Home. Be careful. I don’t know if Siria is playing a part or if she has truly been assigned to join us in battle. I know who you really are, but I won’t even ask your real name, so I won’t slip up and call you anything other than Kela. I may be able to link with you from my cell in the basement. I’ll try it tonight. Do you understand?

  Kela looked shocked but nodded. Can I talk back?

  You can. If any food comes your way and smells odd, don’t eat it. Now that Pacci knows we can do what he assigned Siria to teach, he may or may not pacify you until Winter’s Day. That is all for now.

  Ricky released his touch.

  “You go with the guards. I have more to say to Ricky,” Mattia said as they entered Building Two.

  Ricky stepped out of the cold but had to wait as Mattia looked down the hallway at Kela, Siria, and the two guards escorting them back to their quarters. They said they’d be back for Ricky.

  “If you want to escape right now, I won’t stop you,” Mattia said.

  “The guards will stop me, and Antino Pacci will tear apart all Applia looking for me.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Ricky didn’t fear Pacci’s attempt to find him as much as what he would certainly do to the warden, Kela, and Siria.

  “I’ll stick around.”

  Mattia nodded. “I thought you would. Pacci wanted me to test you. You would like a chance to escape, wouldn’t you?”

  “Any chances I get will be on the battlefield.”

  “There won’t be a battlefield,” Mattia said.

  Ricky looked past him. “Yes, there will be, in front of the Royal Barracks. We are a diversion, much like bait for a trap.”

  Mattia’s eyebrows shot up. “You still think that is the mission?”

  “Who is your top student in the strategy class?”

  The man pursed his lips. “I underestimated you.”

  Ricky shook his head. “You over-estimated yourself, or Pacci did, Master Mattia. It’s clear the inmates are not ready to fight real soldiers. They are just meat that will be consumed by the Royal Army’s swords. All Pacci is doing is building their confidence so they won’t immediately run when they attack the barracks. With three battle sorcerers throwing spells here and there, the King’s soldiers will pause for a bit before running out and slaughtering hundreds of inmates from the Home.”

  “I want more of your reasoning.”

  Ricky snorted. “We were not trained in how to survive in a winter camp, so any operations will be in the city. Pacci is a tool of the Duke of Applia, so the removal of Warden Sarini means his clamping down is an indicator the Duke is behind all this, so it’s a revolt. What does the Duke have to do to rebel? He has to eradicate the soldiers in Applia. So we attack Royal soldiers. Once they waste a lot of energy fighting us, his real forces will descend on them because they will be out from behind the walls of their fortress.”

  “Do you have more?”

  “Everything is con
jecture. I imagine there will be a force behind the inmates to push them into the Royal army’s weapons. Then Warden Sarini is killed, I am killed. Kela and even Mistress Lonsi will be killed. I’m not so sure he’ll leave you unscathed.” Ricky looked up at Mattia.

  “Where is the warden?”

  “You don’t know?” Ricky asked.

  Mattia bit his lip. He was acting, or he didn’t realize she was being held captive.

  “We are both in the basement dungeon cells,” Ricky said. “I can hear guards bring her food and talk to her when I’m not drugged.”

  “I knew about the drugging for you, but Nania, too?”

  Ricky nodded.

  Mattia ran his hand through his hair. “Antino has been keeping me in the dark.”

  “Not literally like me, Master Mattia,” Ricky said with more than a little spite. “Do you have a message for Warden Sarini? We can shout back and forth to each other sometimes.”

  After turning red, he mumbled some words that Ricky didn’t understand.

  “Do you want me to tell the warden that you asked about her?”

  Mattia glared at Ricky without answering his question.

  The guards returned.

  “Take him away,” Mattia said, flicking his hand towards the empty corridor. “I’ll be down with my troops.”

  Ricky looked back at Mattia standing by the door leading down to the basement. He must not have moved for a few moments. He glanced at Ricky, looking a bit disoriented. Could he be having second thoughts? Ricky hoped he was, but how could he be sure of anything? He wondered. Did Mattia have a soft spot for the warden?

  ~~~

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  ~

  I N THE DARKNESS, RICKY WONDERED WHAT HE COULD DO to save his friends. He couldn’t fight the Duke’s army by himself, but what if he performed a set of outrageous illusions aimed at the Royal army ahead of him and the Applian militia certain to be behind them or at their sides?

  He would need a stage to do that. Ricky closed his eyes and ran the performance that Saganet had taken him to see at the theater in Tossa. He remembered the stunning spells. Ricky had learned a few, like the disk of light that blew through the audience. What else was unique?

  He thought harder and finally remembered. The sorcerer flew! He didn’t fly like a bird, but he rose from the stage. Ricky always thought the sorcerer might have been raised by a rope or wire, but what if Ricky flew up to create his stage. He could deflect arrows; better yet he could return them as well.

  Could Ricky last long enough to stall the inmates’ attack? He could perform before the King’s soldiers and warn them. Would it work? He didn’t know, but playing at being drugged or recovering from being drugged all the time wouldn’t save anyone.

  That might be a good plan, but what could he do to help Warden Sarini? They would have to escape somehow. But to where? Ricky would have to return to his cell to have a hope of saving any of the inmates.

  None of the specific plans he ran through would keep him out of harm’s way. Ricky sighed. It couldn’t be avoided. He’d have to focus on saving as many as he could. That would have to be his goal. Blood would be shed no matter what; he could only work to save those he could.

  Pacci would kill any inmates who rebelled before Winter’s Day, so Ricky could only rely on doing something where the King’s soldiers could be enlisted to be protectors rather than attackers.

  All of his planning gave him a headache. Ricky gently shook his hurting head and went to sleep.

  Guards woke him up. “Time to visit the Warden,” one of them said. Why didn’t Pacci beat him up in his cell? Wasn’t it more convenient?

  They pushed him upstairs to the warden’s office and stood in the doorway. Warden Sarini sat in one of the chairs facing Pacci. One of them shoved Ricky towards the other.

  “How have you seen each other?” Pacci asked.

  Ricky eyed Pacci’s leather-covered switch, sitting on his desk as the man grabbed it from his desk. Pacci raised it up and slapped it down filling the room with a crack. Nania Sarini flinched. She looked at him with her drug-filled eyes drooping.

  Ricky bit his lip. He needed to know more, and that wouldn’t happen if he opened his mouth. Could Mattia have snitched on Ricky? Perhaps a guard overheard them?

  Pacci looked at the former warden. “How have you been contacting each other?”

  She glanced at Ricky. “He has yelled to me,” she slurred.

  Pacci reached down and threw one of the ratty cloaks at the warden. It covered her head. “How did this end up in your cell!”

  She pulled it down and draped it over her shoulders. “Pretty,” she said. “I found it rolled up in one of the drawers,” she said, blinking slowly, ostensibly trying to focus on Pacci.

  Antino snorted. “I wonder if I should kill you now. Do you want to die?”

  He walked around his desk and slapped the switch in his hand a few times. Pacci struck her shoulders a few times. She began whimpering after the second whipping.

  Pacci turned on Ricky. “Get up,” he said as he yanked on Ricky. “Bend over.”

  Ricky counted ten strokes before the pain in his rear became more than he could bear.

  He woke up later, face down on the floor in his room. Ricky sat up but quickly regretted it as pain seared his bottom and his eyes teared up in the darkness. He scrambled to his feet.

  “He sounds like he’s stirring,” a voice said outside his cell. The door opened, and light flooded the room. “Are you ready to talk?”

  “About what?” Ricky said. If they wanted him to talk, that meant Warden Sarini hadn’t.

  “How do you two communicate?”

  Ricky sighed. “You already asked that,” he said loudly. “I can’t give you the answer that you want!” He stared at the guard, who looked away.

  “I guess that is a no,” the guard said as he shut Ricky’s door. The other man grunted.

  Now there were at least two guards in the basement. That complicated things for Ricky. He would have to ration the food that he had stashed in his room for at least the rest of the day. He had gone hungry before so that it wouldn’t slow him down. He wasn’t so sure about his shredded bottom.

  He thought of learning to fly. Perhaps he could use flying at some point, but Ricky didn’t know how he could practice. He felt it would be important to know if such a thing were possible.

  Ricky couldn’t sit, but he stood, leaning over the desk, flipping the pages of the sorcerer book, seeing nothing on flying. He pulled out the battle sorcery book and did the same thing until he spotted a discussion on self-levitation. He wouldn’t have called flying that, but maybe the ancients did.

  Since battle sorcerers wrote the book, Ricky followed a debate about using flying in the field coupled with protection. Protection was like a shield. The book revealed that protection used more energy than flying for an unstated reason. Ricky would try both, but he would need Nania to test a protection spell.

  He used the older, faster technique of finding the proper resonance. He couldn’t sing very loud in his cell with guards sitting outside, since he could hear their voices but not their specific words. He hummed to find the proper pitch. The flying resonance came easier than protection when thought of as an invisible shield. Perhaps the visualization was inaccurate.

  He tried to invoke flying with his will. He could feel himself become lighter, but he wasn’t close to levitating. Humming failed to create enough power. When he hummed at the resonance for protection, he could feel something extend from his body. He thought of the effect as an invisible glow. He couldn’t test the spell, but even though he just hummed, he could feel power drain from his body to maintain the effect.

  The spell made Ricky very tired. He adjusted the cloaks on his bed and lay on his side, keeping his tender rear from touching anything, and as he struggled with his fatigue and his pain, he eventually went to sleep.

  The problem with waking in darkness, Ricky decided, is that he had no idea what
time it was. His bottom stung, and he felt he should clean the wounds, but first he’d have to see if the guards were still outside his door.

  He used his master key to unlock the latch and peered out. The guards were slumped in chairs flanking his door. Ricky didn’t hesitate to apply the fainting spells to them and then to the pair outside of Nania’s cell.

  Ricky didn’t knock on Nania’s door but opened it as silently as he could. The nub of a candle flickered in the dimness. Ricky crept to Nania’s bed and nearly gasped. A guard slept in her place. He quickly put the fainting spell on him. They must have moved the warden!

  He checked each cell and finally found the one containing Warden Sarini. He banished the total blackness of the room away by lighting a sorcery light.

  “Warden,” he whispered as he gently shook her.

  He brought the light closer and gasped at the bruises on her face. One eye was puffed out and would certainly turn black. Ricky couldn’t help but clench his fists. The closer they got to Winter’s Day, the bolder Antino Pacci seemed to become.

  “Ricky? They moved me so that you would blunder into my old cell.” She looked up at him and shook her head. Her words were a bit slurred through swollen lips.

  “I know. That’s why I’m here,” Ricky said.

  The woman sat up and put her hand to her forehead. “Of course. I’m not thinking very straight. Antino stopped the drugs and began the beatings.”

  “I don’t think that is a good sign,” Ricky said.

  “No, it probably isn’t. How is your bottom?”

  Ricky grimaced. “My bottom burns. I need to clean the wounds.”

  She managed a smile. “Do you need any help?”

  Ricky put out both his hands. “No, no. I’m going to the washroom, but I’ll be back. Do you feel well enough to go to the practice room?”

  She shook her head. “Not now, maybe later.”

  “There isn’t going to be much later,” Ricky said. “Winter’s Day is less than a week away. We need to be strong.”

  “Strong?” she said, nearly whimpering. “So I can spit in Pacci’s face when he kills me?”

  Ricky hoped the surrender in her voice came from the drugs. “It’s not just us,” Ricky said. “I’m going to try to help the inmates prepare themselves so they can run if they have to.”