A Sorcerer Imprisoned

by Guy Antibes

  “I won’t be needing this,” Ricky said.

  “The master key! How did you ever get it?” the warden said.

  “I was on latrine duty, emptying chamber pots. The cleaning ladies gave me their master key. I compared it to my own and filed off what I needed to. The main building and Building Two are all on the same master key.”

  “We wouldn’t be talking if you hadn’t done that.”

  “Our fate hinged on a lot of things. If I hadn’t met you down here? If Henni hadn’t been so friendly? At this point, that’s in the past. You might want to hire a locksmith.”

  Ricky stopped just before he headed up the stairs. “There is some evidence still in the library.”

  “What?” Warden Sarini said.

  Ricky opened the library back up and went to the supply closet. He grabbed the box filled with notes.

  “It feels like a century ago when I wrote these. They are my thoughts about the sorcery books in the secret room. If anyone came across these, it might prompt them to wonder where the books are that produced these notes,” he said to Warden Sarini.

  “I’m glad you remembered. You are the only one who knew that these are here,” the newly re-instated ‘temporary’ warden said.

  Ricky nodded. “You still might have to protect me from the authorities.”

  “If I officially return, I would have. But you’ve taken care of another thing I won’t have to. You’re the last person I want to worry about.” The warden put out her arms and hugged Ricky. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for what you have done. It is time you left.” She pinched his cheek. “You are such a good boy.”

  Her words made Ricky’s face heat up. He would never forget her drugged kiss.

  They walked up to the courtyard.

  “Key?” The warden said.

  Ricky smiled sheepishly. “I put it back in my pocket.” He handed it over. “Good luck.”

  “You taught me it’s possible to make your own luck, didn’t you?”

  Ricky shrugged and then climbed into the carriage.

  “Any of you are welcome to visit as long as I’m the warden,” she said.

  “Just a visit,” Ricky replied.

  He looked back at the dark hulk of the Applia Juvenile Home. It looked just as foreboding as it had when he arrived months earlier. Ricky was glad to put it behind him.

  The carriage trundled on Applia’s cobbled streets, the carriage following the wagons, clattering the sleeping city.

  “Torches ahead, Saganet,” one of the drivers said.

  “Stop if they are the King’s soldiers,” Saganet said.

  The carriage stopped anyway. “Do any of you have weapons?”

  Effie snorted. “Are you kidding?”

  Ricky didn’t even carry a knife, but he had his sorcery and his songs.

  They stopped.

  Saganet climbed out of the carriage, along with Effie and Ricky.

  “What is in the wagons?” an armed man said. He wore a green coat. Six uniformed men stood in front of the wagons.

  “I don’t believe that is any of your business,” Saganet said.

  “Identification papers.”

  Saganet grunted. “That is just what I was going to ask. Are you part of the rebel militia that was soundly defeated by the King’s soldiers today?”

  The man narrowed his eyes. “And if I was?”

  “What authority do you have to stop us?” Saganet said.

  The man pulled his sword out of its sheath. “This gives me authority.”

  Effie snorted and pushed the sword aside as she stood toe-to-toe with the man. “Do you know who the boy is?”

  The guard glanced at Ricky still wearing his ratty black cloak. “Your son?”

  She shook her head. “He killed your duke just after lunch. He blew up your ram and punished your Antino Pacci with the man’s own weapon.”

  The guard turned to Ricky. “You’re the battle sorcerer?”

  Ricky hummed and lifted up about four feet in the air. He hummed again, creating a bright white ball with red flickering around its edges. “Want to catch my ball?” He asked, carried away by the moment.

  The other men stared at the orb floating in front of the man’s face. Ricky moved it closer and closer.

  The men finally lost their composure and fled into the darkness, leaving their torches sputtering on the ground.

  Merry clapped her hands slowly as Ricky climbed in next to Effie. “I’ll make a performance sorcerer of you yet,” she said.

  Saganet and Effie began to laugh.

  “Want to catch my ball?” Saganet said, wiping tears out of his eyes. “Your sword found a home.” He shook his head. “We’ll still have to work on your stories and the timing.”

  Ricky furrowed his brow. “What, for a performance?”

  “No, for tavern stories. Soldiers like to drink and swap stories. We’ve got to be a little circumspect about what happened last year, but everything at the Juvenile Home is fair game, even the warden’s kiss.”

  “Kiss?” Kela said, looking confused.

  “It’s nothing,” Ricky said looking out into the darkness. “How did you know?”

  “Nania, who else?” Effie said between her bouts of laughter. “Her story is already nearly perfected.”

  “How many people has she told?”

  Effie shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “I’ll never admit to such a thing. It isn’t proper.”

  Saganet took a deep breath to gain some control. “Not today or tomorrow, or even next year, but I’ll bet it will become part of your story.” Saganet leaned across Effie to slap him on the knee. “Right along with your shredded butt!”

  Kela giggled, and soon Ricky laughed along with the rest. It felt really good to be among friends.

  ~

  Two days later, Ricky came down for breakfast at a fancy inn. His trip from Applia was much better than his journey to the Home. Kela had just sat down when he entered the room. The others were still in their rooms. He sat down across from her.

  “Are you happy with the way things turned out?” Ricky asked.

  She gave him a beaming smile. “You have wonderful friends. Yes, I am happy. I wasn’t particularly happy at the Juvenile Home. I miss Fisttia, but not my parents.”

  “What about the real Kela?”

  “She is fine, more suited to my household than I. My parents don’t care for adventure or sorcery. Kela’s talents are modest, despite her parentage.”

  “Can I ask you your real name?”

  “I’ve just been waiting for you to ask. My father is the brother of Kela’s father, so we share a last name. Mara Torris.” She held out her hand across the table.

  “I’m Hendrico Valian, but everyone calls me Ricky.”

  She giggled. “Even me.”

  “Was your language problem a sham?”

  Mara shook her head. “No, Kela spoke excellent Parantian. My language skills were always a worry, but I understood Parantian better than I let on. You were the best teacher I had at the Home.”

  “I did something right,” Ricky said.

  “You did a lot of things right. I was always impressed how you kept working with what you had and took advantage of every little thing.”

  “I had to learn to do that, as I grew up poor.”

  “You learned well,” she said. “I hope we can see each other often at Merry’s school.”

  “Doubli Academy. You’ll like it there.”

  “I hope so.”

  ~~~

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  ~

  R ICKY SIGHED AS THE LITTLE CARAVAN ROLLED across the bridge into Tossa. He looked to the east and saw the huddled, weathered structures of Shantyboat Town floating on the River Lironi. He felt he had moved on from his past at that moment.

  The adventures of the past four months rolled through his head as the carriage slowed to a crawl amidst the traffic of Tossa.

  “Your new city, my dear?” Merry said to Mara Torris.


  Mara grinned and nodded. They had lingered at their last stop long enough to buy a few new clothes for the young girl. It turned out she was a year older than Ricky. He didn’t know how he felt about that, but the dour-faced girl in the Home seemed to have developed an irrepressible smile.

  They passed near Saganet’s townhouse. Ricky thought of the Taranta’s, and that brought to mind something. “What will we do about Lady Taranta?”

  “An unfinished piece of business,” Saganet said. “We’ll talk about it once you are settled.”

  His guardian didn’t say another word, but he noticed that Saganet’s hand gravitated to Effie’s as they approached Doubli Academy. The double gates parted, and the wagons entered Ricky’s home.

  “I know just the place for those books,” Merry said. “Few of us will have access. I might even have you sign in blood to enter,” she said giggling. “Oh, it’s so good to be back, especially with you, Ricky.”

  The carriage stopped in front of the administration building. As they stepped from the carriage, Mistress Merry’s employees began to gather.

  “The wagons, Dean?”

  “There is a large storage area on the east side of Building Nine.”

  “Ah, where your props were until we sold them last summer?”

  Merry turned red. “Ah, yes. Put the boxes there and lock it up. They are fragile pieces we brought with us from Applia.”

  “I will make sure they are secured.”

  “Sold your props?” Saganet said.

  The woman still blushed brilliantly. “With Taranta threatening the school, I decided we needed to be on more solid financial footing.”

  “I thought you’d never part with your past.”

  Merry smiled, but Ricky could see the pain. “Who cares about the past, when the future is in front of us? Doesn’t that sound like something Ricky would say?”

  “It does,” Saganet said.

  Ricky could see his guardian might bring up the sale of Merry’s precious props to the Dean of Doubli Academy at a more discreet moment.

  “Shall we all walk to the dining hall? Your men can take my things into the Administration Building.”

  Saganet nodded and gave the carriage drivers instructions and slipped purses into their hands. Ricky wondered if the carriage was part of the little fleet that Saganet kept in the carriage house across from his property in Tossa.

  Ricky closed his eyes and took in the smell of the academy’s commissary. He smiled at the thought of really good food.

  He leaned over to Mara. “This is an excellent dining hall, and you will really enjoy lunch.”

  She smiled politely and nodded.

  After a delicious meal in the faculty dining area, Effie took Mara to a dorm, Merry went to inspect the unloading of her new library, and Ricky joined Saganet in a stroll to the cottage.

  Saganet closed the door and sat down. “Get me some wine, would you?”

  Ricky grinned and complied. He poured some water for himself.

  “So you had something to tell me?”

  “After you change clothes,” Saganet said.

  Ricky entered his room. He put his clothes on, but they were all on the tight side. He walked into the living area and sat in a chair.

  “You’ve grown a bit. Were you only gone four months?”

  Ricky shrugged. “These fit okay when I left.”

  “That’s okay. I’m just happy we were able to bring you home to Tossa. I had hoped we could arrange something with Effie’s old friend, the warden.”

  “You did, but it wasn’t about me.”

  “It was all about you, Ricky. I’m proud of you. I would have never let you go had I known what was to happen.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped an order of Duke Bariani’s.”

  Saganet sighed. “Perhaps not. You’re here, and you can get back to your studies. Merry said you’d have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Not in sorcery,” Ricky said.

  Saganet waved a reproving finger. “No arrogance, my boy.”

  “It’s the way I said it?”

  Saganet nodded. “No one likes someone who boasts about their capability.”

  Ricky folded his hands. “I understand.”

  The events of the last four months still whirled in Ricky’s head. Even the few days on the road, riding to Tossa, didn’t erase the intense environment of the Applia Juvenile Home. Ricky felt like he needed a long rest away from everything to get his head clear. He even had an errant feeling, wondering if he should trust Saganet after his experiences.

  “Good. I am going to take a nap. You should, too. Winter’s Day break isn’t over for a few more days, so you can rest up.”

  Ricky agreed and retreated to his room. He found his sword and knives tucked behind a new wardrobe full of too-tight clothes. The clothes he wore at the Home were always oversized and baggy, so he hadn’t noticed that he had grown some.

  When Saganet woke him up, it was dark outside. Ricky yawned. “Are you cooking, or are we going to the dining hall?”

  “First night out? I think we will celebrate outside the academy. Bundle up; it’s a bit of a walk.”

  Ricky looked up at the clear Tossan sky. “Are you a very good spy?” Ricky asked. His mind still jumbled with all the caution he lived with.

  “Me?” Saganet laughed. “Not at all. I play at being a spy. It’s nothing I take too seriously.”

  “I doubt that,” Ricky said. “How did your connection in Applia turn against you?”

  “First of all, he wasn’t a member of the order.”

  Ricky put up his hand. “The Curled Fist?” He made a fist as he spoke.

  “Right. We both don’t particularly like the King. My contact just thought that the Duke of Applia was the right person to put on the throne, and he knew I didn’t. General Farlotti arrested him the day we left Applia. I imagine he will be tried and punished, along with quite a few rebels.”

  “Master Mattia will be okay?”

  “I imagine so. It’s always easier when a general sees you run your sword through an enemy.”

  “Right.”

  “Are we close? I’m hungry.” Ricky found his eyes darting into alleys and at people out in the chilly air of Tossa.

  Saganet nodded. “Two more streets.”

  He opened the door of a little restaurant. There were plenty of patrons, but he passed the only empty table Ricky could see and proceeded to the back.

  “Another hideout?”

  Saganet put his finger to his lips. “Just follow me.”

  He opened a cleaning closet and unlatched something on the wall. Ricky wasn’t particularly surprised to see the wall pivot, revealing stairs.

  “Can I talk now?”

  “As soon as I close this.” Saganet said.

  “This isn’t as nice as yours,” Ricky said, as they climbed down the steep stairs. They gave Saganet a little trouble.

  “But it is my inspiration,” he said. “Come, and you’ll see.”

  They continued along the tunnel and into an alcove and another set of stairs leading up to a foyer of sorts.

  Saganet rapped his knuckles in a pattern.

  “Come in Saganet.”

  Ricky looked at his guardian and whispered. “Who is it?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.” Saganet walked through the door. A large, well-dressed man sat at a table set for three.

  “I was nearly going to start without you,” the man said. “This is the boy, eh?”

  “May I present Hendrico Valian, but he prefers to be called Ricky.”

  The man stood up and grinned, extending his meaty hand. “I am very pleased to meet you.”

  “Ricky, you have just shaken the hand of the ruler of Tossa, Duke Bariani.”

  All Ricky could do was blink a few times. “He is your enemy!” he whispered.

  “I heard that,” Bariani said. He waved a hand. “It’s all a ruse. All of it.” Bariani frowned. “Forgive me, young Valian; I must
have something in my stomach.”

  He picked up a handful of walnuts on a tray among all the other delicacies on the table. He reached back to a sideboard and grabbed a little metal statue and pounded the walnuts. The Duke picked up a handful of shells and picked out the nutmeat. Ricky’s eyes were drawn to the statue. It was in the shape of a fist, a curled fist.

  “You are a member of the Curled Fist?” Ricky said in disbelief.

  “No. I am the leader and Crabacci, here, is my second-in-command. Sit! It’s time to eat. We have something else to discuss other than your induction into our little group.”

  Saganet began to uncover the trays and helped himself to the food. Ricky did the same as Duke Bariani finished up his snack.

  “We moved things up a bit when Crabacci told us of your discovery of Pacci’s plot. We want everything as secret as possible.”

  “You aren’t going to kill the people who know, are you?”

  “Not at all, but let’s say the Order has grown today.”

  So what do I do as a member of the Order of the Curled Fist?

  “You don’t have to pledge your fealty to me,” Bariani said, “or the King of Paranty, but you will have to vow to rid Paranty of the parasites of the current dynasty. They suck Paranty dry, but secretly.”

  “I can pledge to do that,” Ricky said, thinking back at all the lies and distortions of the historical record, coupled with the suppression of sorcery.

  “I’m glad to hear you can. Saves killing you,” Bariani said, chuckling. “I kid about the killing.” The duke cleared his throat. “There is a matter that Saganet and I need to tell you. Saganet?”

  Ricky and the duke turned. Saganet cleared his throat, too. Whatever they had to say wouldn’t be positive.

  “We put you into a difficult spot,” Saganet said. “You see, uh, you didn’t have to go to the Applia Juvenile Home. We thought with your communication link with Loria Mansali that we could snatch you from the Home if anything went sour.”

  Ricky couldn’t help but grasp the arms of his chair. “You put me there? On purpose?”

  The duke leaned towards Ricky. “Something was happening in Applia, and we thought you might hear something among the children that would help us understand what was going on. Saganet’s contacts were being rousted by the Duke of Applia’s constables. Our information sources dried up.”