A Sorcerer Imprisoned

by Guy Antibes

  Ricky sat gingerly on his bed and looked around for a hiding place for the powders. He checked to see if the sorcery book remained in the bottom dresser drawer. No one seemed to have found it. He flipped through the pages. He had progressed past most of what he saw. He put it back along with the powder packet and the salve. For good measure, he put his old clothes in the drawer and left to rejoin Mattia’s unit.

  He wasn’t in as bad of condition as he thought, but running made his wounds bleed.

  “You don’t have to run,” Mattia said. “I would just as soon you keep your blood inside than on your pants. How is Nania Sarini?”

  “Beaten at least twice since we last met.”

  Mattia’s face darkened. “Pacci doesn’t have to do that,” he said.

  “Warden Pacci is not a nice man,” Ricky said.

  “I’m not a nice man,” Mattia said, glaring at Ricky.

  “Pacci is not nice, and he’s evil then, Master Mattia.” Ricky left it at that and found Gil getting ready to spar with another inmate.

  “Care to help me work off some rust?” Ricky said.

  “I’d use your rust as my oil. Sure.”

  They warmed up. Other than the constant pulling on Ricky’s backside, he didn’t feel much different. They approached each other. A few of the inmates stopped their practice to watch.

  Gil began with a thrust that almost got Ricky. He hadn’t quite taken into account the much taller boy’s reach. Gil stepped back when he could have pressed. Ricky nodded, and they continued to parry, thrust, and slash. Gil had improved with practice.

  Ricky supposed that most of the boys had, but it soon became apparent that none of them were taught any offensive moves. That made sense to Ricky. Mattia was giving these boys a chance to hold off being soldiers for a bit longer.

  Gil had overreached as Ricky slid aside, giving him the opportunity to tap Gil’s sword hand with his own. The tap was a bit harder than he intended and the other boy’s sword clattered to the floor.

  “I’m sorry,” Ricky said.

  “Don’t be. I learned from that. It’s too bad you came back only a few days before Winter’s Day. Let’s eat together.”

  Ricky nodded and was surprised that Mattia had a line of boys wanting to spar with him. He approached each one trying to teach them something, just like he had inadvertently done with Gil. The lunch bell rang, and as Ricky put his wooden sword back, he noticed how depleted he was. He didn’t need more magic; Ricky needed more food.

  With a tray piled high, Ricky sat down at a table and began to dig in. After using all the magic the night before, Ricky needed to be fed. Someone put a tray down opposite him. Ricky looked up into the eyes of Gil Bisacci.

  “Good to see you back,” Gil said. “I thought I nearly had you downstairs.”

  Ricky just nodded and smiled. “You nearly did.” He looked around for listeners. “How are the three units coming?”

  “Not so well with the third unit. I think Mattia has let things go a bit. The second unit is nearly as solid as we are. What do we do with them?”

  “I already told you what I think will happen. We have to protect each other, and we do that by creating defensive clusters.”

  “You don’t want us to fight as a unit?”

  Ricky stared at Gil. “Just what strategy would you use?”

  “We haven’t learned one yet.”

  Ricky shook his head. “No one will teach you. I read about defenses at the academy. You just parry, parry, parry with an occasional thrust. That’s it. While you do that you move towards an exit. There will be a few available. If I signal something, either scatter or head in the direction that I indicate.”

  “How will I see you if we are in the middle of a fight?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Just make sure the other unit leaders look towards you. Two signals, move in one direction or scatter.”

  “One direction or scatter. How can I communicate a direction?”

  “Have your unit leaders watch me then, but don’t tell them until we are on the march. If you spread signals around while we are still in the home—”

  Gil put up his hand. “It will make it back to Warden Pacci.”

  “Right. Now has anything else happened while I’ve been gone?”

  “Nothing different,” Gil said. “Our training hasn’t changed at all, except we have continued our conditioning. That has even spread to the other units. There are quite a few of us who were never much into running. We’re all doing that now. A few of the girls have even proven faster than some of us.”

  “The faster and farther the inmates can run, the better chance they can survive the battle. Conditioning only means there’s more of a chance some of us will live to see the second day of winter.”

  “You are worried about all of us?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Gil nodded. “But I don’t have any ideas, and you do.”

  “I’ve just had more time to think.”

  “No, you’ve always been ahead of things. Where did you pick that up?”

  Ricky shrugged. “I grew up as poor as any here. I’ve always thought a bit ahead to survive. It’s no different here. I’ll admit I’ve always had a bit of luck.”

  “Well, let’s hope it rubs off on the rest of us.”

  A few more boys joined them, and Ricky’s conversation with Gil ended. He left early to lay on his side. His bottom had begun to hurt towards the end of the impromptu meeting.

  Ricky looked out the window. He looked down and spotted bolts securing the bars top and bottom. Ricky wondered if he vibrated the bolts if they would unfreeze. He opened the window, letting in the chilly air and hummed until he found the resonance that filled him with power, and then he grabbed the bar, willing the bolts to loosen and spin. His power was draining so he stopped. The bars were loose. Another session like that and he might be able to get out.

  Ricky thought about Warden Sarini’s words. He wondered if he should try to make contact with Saganet’s person in Applia. He would think about it a bit more. Ricky heard the bell ring, summoning the inmates back to training.

  ~

  Ricky decided to return the books in his current room and his former cell to the library. The halls were quiet, so he made his way down to the basement and into his old cell. He retrieved the books and went to the trouble of moving the shelf and making sure the books remained hidden. He hoped he’d be able to return, but that was in the future.

  He looked at the shelves and spotted a book with communications in the title. Ricky didn’t understand the other word, but he opened the book and read about will being the primary communication focus. The section of the book didn’t say anything about affinity, but it repeatedly emphasized will, just like the battle sorcery made will a major ingredient in determining resonances.

  Winter’s Day was about ready to arrive. Ricky sat down and tried to communicate with Loria Mansali by exercising will, first of all. He was about to give up and gave everything a second push when he felt the link slide into place.

  Loria?

  Ricky, is that you? You aren’t supposed to be able to link with me now, Loria said.

  I learned a new technique. It works. Can you get a message to Saganet?

  We aren’t supposed to link. Go back wherever you came from. I don’t want to talk to you.

  Ricky sighed. I don’t care if you think you don’t want to talk to me. Something awful is going to happen in Applia, and you have to get a message to Saganet.

  He waited for a few moments. The link hadn’t broken. Loria? Loria?

  Saganet has already left for Applia. You can tell him, Merry, or Effilia Asucco whatever you want to say yourself. I’m breaking this now. Talking to me this late at night is embarrassing. Don’t do it again. She broke the link from her side.

  If Ricky wanted evidence that their affinity had ended, this conversation proved it. He wondered if he could get in touch with Merry. Ricky focused on his benefactor, but nothing happened. Perhaps Lo
ria still had some affinity in her, or she was better at communicating. Either way, Ricky would have to try to communicate with Merry. Saganet had to find out what was happening.

  After buttoning up the library, Ricky saw guards down by Warden Sarini’s cell. He was sure she needed food. Ricky slipped up the stairs and padded through the kitchen, picking up a sack of goodies for the warden. He spelled the guards and didn’t bother to wake up the warden, leaving the food out of sight from the door.

  His bottom was sore enough from the early morning activities. Ricky collapsed on the bed and quickly fell asleep.

  It was still dark outside when Pisan barged into Ricky’s room.

  “Drug him,” Pisan said.

  Guards held Ricky down as they made him drink the water with that strange taste. He glared at Pisan.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  “How did a sack of food get into Nania Sarini’s cell?” Pisan said.

  “I don’t know,” Ricky said, as the drug began to make his mind swim. “How could I get down there? Isn’t her room still guarded?”

  “Guards can fall asleep,” Pisan said.

  “It wasn’t me. Maybe it was a cook.”

  “They are watched, too. It had to be you.”

  “I’ve been sleeping in my cell.”

  Pisan went to Ricky’s door and examined the wooden plug that Ricky always replaced after locking himself in his room. Pisan cursed. The man looked at the guards. “Have you heard of a sorcerer with the ability to walk through walls?”

  The guards looked at Pisan as if he were mad.

  “If you know, make sure you tell me, Master Pisan,” Ricky said, his head beginning to swim a bit more.

  “Hold him,” Pisan said. “Turn him around.” He gave Ricky five or six blows with his switch. Each swipe brought a searing pain, making Ricky howl even though he was drugged.

  “Bah!” Pisan shooed the guards out. “You’ll make a mistake sooner or later.”

  He slammed the door, knocking out the plug. Ricky carefully replaced the plug and staggered to the window where he poked his finger down his throat and vomited to rid himself of as much of the drug as he could.

  He couldn’t sit on his bed, but he remembered the packets of pain powder and an antidote to the drug. He still had a little water left in the pitcher in his room and stirred them both together before he downed the mixture.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  ~

  T HE NEXT THING HE KNEW, daylight lit the room and cold air blew through a narrow gap in the window. Ricky rubbed his eyes and sat up. He winced immediately. His bottom drawer was pushed out slightly. Ricky remembered the salve. He used most of it on his bottom. The bleeding had begun again, but the stitches had helped keep the gashes intact.

  He limped to the dining hall and took his tray back to his room, then ate his breakfast, standing at his dresser. Ricky couldn’t take another beating. He was tempted to leave now, but he knew he couldn’t. He tried to contact Merry again but failed. He began to feel desperate. Ricky’s back-end burned with pain, even with the salve.

  The bell rang for the first hour. Ricky took some deep breaths and returned the tray before descending to the training room. Antino Pacci talked to Mattia who looked up at Ricky hobbling down the stairs. Ricky shrank from the wicked grin on Pacci’s face.

  “I see Pisan had a close conversation with you last night. I didn’t expect to see you down here this morning.”

  Ricky nodded. “I must attend, or I’ll get another beating, Warden Pacci.”

  Nausea began to pulsate in Ricky’s stomach, and sweat broke on his brow. The pain made Ricky’s legs shake.

  Pacci sneered. “You make me as sick as you look. Go back to your room.” Pacci looked at Mattia. “Send the healer. The Duke shares lunch with us tomorrow afternoon. I will need to parade my battle sorcerers in front of him then. Make sure he can sit.”

  Mattia looked at Ricky. “You have the rest of the day. Leave.”

  Ricky nodded and struggled back up the stairs. He heard Pacci’s jovial comment. “He wet his pants with blood. You have to admire Pisan’s artistry.”

  Ricky just grit his teeth and struggled to his room. The healer came.

  “I don’t see the need for more stitches, but your bottom is just raw meat.”

  “It feels like raw meat,” Ricky said through clenched teeth.

  “This pain medication will put you to sleep. I’ll put on more salve, but it will still hurt.

  Ricky lay on his side in more agony than he had ever felt in his life, watching the sky grow darker and darker. Rain started pelting down, and then it turned to snow. He could barely see.

  Ricky rose to his feet. The time to leave had come. He sang the bolts open on two of the bars. He pushed them forward after donning his cloak and stood on the slushy ground. The levitation spell would work the best, so he rose into the air and floated over the wall. He could only make out the rooftops, and soon he descended onto the city streets. He wandered around trying to find the address. The snow and the cold, coupled with the pain, made him sad. He shouldn’t be out here looking for someone. He wanted to be in the cottage he shared with Saganet on the academy grounds. Life had dealt him an awful blow. He sighed and spotted a few people walking ahead in the awful weather.

  “Do you know where Holdino Lane is?” he asked a passerby. “I’m lost in all this snow.”

  The tall man, with his face wrapped in a scarf, looked down at Ricky. “You’d be better off going home. It is about the sixth or seventh street after you turn right up there.” The man pointed behind him.

  Ricky shuffled in the snow. Big fluffy flakes began to fall. He pulled the cloak tighter around him and looked for street signs but found that Applia didn’t have them. He walked up about six streets and had to ask a woman if he was close to Holdino Lane. Two inquiries later, Ricky stood in front of number 7, a modest house in a modest neighborhood. At least the Applians numbered their houses.

  He took a deep breath and ascended the steps. Ricky hesitated before he knocked on the door. His heart beat in his throat. Ricky couldn’t do it. He didn’t know what possessed him to want to go out in the first place. He walked back down and stood across the street, huddling in the meager protection of a dark alleyway. The snow accumulated on his cloak, adding to his misery, but Ricky’s attention sharpened when he saw one of Warden Pacci’s guards climb the steps. A man came to the door and looked up and down the street. His eyes glanced into the alley, but perhaps all the snow hid Ricky from view, as the man ushered the guard into his house.

  So much for Saganet’s Applian network. This person had been compromised, and Ricky felt more alone than ever. He never did get the address of Baron Mansali’s contact. Perhaps even the Duke of Applia had persuaded Mansali’s person to join his rebellion.

  Ricky walked towards the home but ended up sitting on the steps of a house. The cold from the snow numbed his pain for a bit, but Ricky finally admitted defeat. He had tried to help everyone, but his mind couldn’t process a vision of victory. He could walk away from Applia, but he knew he would never forgive himself for deserting his friends. He slunk away into the large flakes of snow.

  Ricky didn’t see any guards on the Home’s walls, so he waited for a particularly thick flurry before he found the right resonance and easily flew over the Home’s wall He glided underneath his window and slithered through the bars and closed his window. As he warmed up in his cell, his body began to throb with pain, so he curled into a ball and went to sleep, fully clothed.

  He woke to the dinner bell. Ricky shrugged off the damp cloak. He hung it up on the hook behind the door and entered the hallway.

  “You look awful,” one of the inmates said as they filed into the dining hall.

  “I feel awful,” Ricky said. “But I’m hungry.” Indeed, Ricky’s excursion had used a lot of energy, and coupled with missing lunch, he needed food.

  He sat by himself. No one bothered him as he went
back for seconds. He downed another glass of water and left the dining hall, more full than he had ever been in the Home. He did feel better when he made it to the washroom and cleaned himself up.

  Ricky watched the snow melt as a south wind began to blow. The clouds blew away, and as the sun set, with the skies mostly clear. The orange sky should have looked better to Ricky than it did. With a few days to go, Ricky could only feel defeat. His regard for his other inmates and Warden Sarini began to fade. Perhaps his only chance to survive relied on his ability to run.

  He could float from roof to roof all the way to the edge of Applia, and then he could seek out a wagon on the road to Tossa and find his way back to Shantyboat Town and disappear. His bottom showed him how effective all his planning had been…full of failure.

  He retrieved the sorcery text that he had brought from the library and read. A passage caught his eye. It was a caution. He had skipped over this section before since it didn’t deal with the creation of resonances.

  Some difficult spells or constant resonance can work against a sorcerer. Rehearsing for hours or even days on end can affect the emotional stability of the sorcerer. Practitioners have been known to commit suicide after extended training sessions.

  Ricky stared at the book. In all the training he had received at the hand of Professor Calasay and Petrolo Garini, the subject had not come up. He would have expected it after all the work he had completed for the Novice Competition the previous summer.

  His mind went back to that time, but he hadn’t been as knowledgeable in sorcery then. His actual magic sessions might not have been as long as he thought. Could his current frame of mind be influenced by the flying he had done earlier in the day?

  He re-read the passage. His actual magic practice had never gone on as long as his two flying experiences. Sustained magic. As he read on, the warnings became more specific, but they could be overcome by meditation and positive visualization.

  Ricky thought of the importance of will. That was a difference. He had exercised a great deal more will than ever before. Perhaps will drained as much as magic did. He scanned the entire chapter. It didn’t mention will, but Ricky would bet real money that there were more old books in the library that would have something more to say about that.