“Yes, sir,” Darras replied.
“Darras,” Lord Brandon said, meeting Darras’ eyes, “the padre trusts him. It wouldn’t hurt you to give him a chance.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You ok with this, Ti?” Lord Brandon said.
“Yes, M’lord. I welcome the chance to prove myself useful to the rest of the Rangers.”
“Good.”
“I do have a suggestion, however. I can travel very quickly at times. I might in the future want to detach myself from the patrols or at least swap teams in mid-patrol.”
Lord Brandon frowned at the suggestion. “I don’t want any man patrolling on his own, not even you. The idea has merit though. Let’s talk about that later, after this patrol. Maybe you can move quickly from tavern to tavern or something. I’d like some details about what you can do. For now, stay with Darras and his men.”
“Very good, sir.”
Next morning before dawn, Darras and his men were up and ready to go. Tiberius was ready with them. Darras road up and down inspecting his men. At last he rode up next to Tiberius.
“Try to stay out of the way, wizard,” Darras said. Tiberius responded with a polite tip of his head. After that, they were off. The northwest road took them along the river towns. These were generally fortified and garrisoned, both against goblins and any encroachment of elves from across the river. Even in the darkest days these were some of the better protected areas of the border lands. It didn’t hurt to show the flag here now and then, if only to keep an eye on the local politicians.
After a couple of towns, they swung inland. It didn’t take long before they heard more unsettling news here. Goblins, bogies, and other dark folk had been seen. They were pulling back from the Queen’s roads, but they were out there all the same.
At one spot a farmer came up and complained of raids.
“I lost nearly all my chickens,” he said, holding up one of the few remaining specimens.
“Goblins raiding again, I suppose,” Darras said.
“I’m not so sure,” Tiberius interposed examining some chicken bones the farmer held out to them. “Goblins do tend to cook their food. These look like they’ve been eaten raw. Goblins are clever, too; they don’t like to raid too close to their base and we’re pretty close now. I’d risk a wager this is that pocket of bogies we’ve heard rumor of.”
Darras was about to ask how much he’d wager when one of his lieutenants piped up.
“I think he’s right, sir. I did a bit of scouting around. Trail’s pretty old, but I did see a couple of bogey prints.”
“All right, fan out. See if we can pick up the trail. I want them shut down. Price of chicken’s too high as it is.”
They split up the company and fanned out though the woods, with Tiberius following at a discreet distance behind Darras and his men.
Suddenly Tiberius gave a whistle. Darras glanced back annoyed. “What?!”
By way of answer, Tiberius threw a stick at a nearby tree. Surprisingly, the stick did not strike the tree, but sailed right through it. Darras rode up closer to it and looked incredulously at the illusionary tree.
“I think our trail lies this way,” Tiberius said.
“I can see it now, thank you,” Darras snapped, annoyed. “You’d think God would give his servant the ability to see though the enemy’s deceptions.”
“He has. He sent me, didn’t he? Don’t expect God to do everything the way you want it done. Just give thanks for revealed truth. Now, you want to catch those chicken snatchers or not?”
Darras led his horse, Smoke, through the tree, signaling the others to come after him. The trail was tricky, but a few curves later they came suddenly on a clearing and an encampment.
A score or so of bogies lay about in the shade of crude lean-to’s built in the side of a hill.
“Surrender in the name of the Queen!” Darras called out. His answer was a bogey rock bouncing off his helm. It grazed against the metal and did Darras no harm, but it served as an answer. Darras tipped his lance forward and charged. His skill with a lance was not limited to rings and games. A trained armored knight on a warhorse was a sight to behold. Darras speared one bogey with his lance, then drew his sword and sliced the head off another. Then he skillfully guided Smoke into lashing out with his solid hooves, putting another couple down. There was nothing for Tiberius to do but watch, until Darras’ sword shattered on the neck of another bogey.
Darras called out for a sword, but the words were no sooner out of his mouth when he saw a sword flying towards his hand. Tiberius had spotted one in a pile of loot and sent it towards him. Darras acknowledged the gift with a curt nod. The Rangers rounded up the rest of the bogies.
In the aftermath, Darras looked over the remains of his broken sword.
“Look at this,” he complained. “Top quality workmanship, they said. Breaks just cutting though bone.”
Tiberius gave it a glance. “Looks like a clean break; I can fix it, I think.”
Darras shook his head. “No point. It’s my personal curse. I break swords all the time. This new one isn’t too bad. What I really need is something special. The kind of sword you find stuck in a stone, or floating down the river. The kind you only get by following a white deer through the labyrinths of the forests. When I get a little time off I’m going on a quest for a real sword. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anything like that?”
“Not around here, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. What about dinner? Day is getting on and I don’t know that we want to camp here.”
“Do you cook?” Darras asked.
“Not really. Only passably to feed myself at need,” he admitted.
“Me neither,” Darras said. “I need to find a Ranger who can. Well, no point camping out tonight. There are plenty of farms nearby. We’ll split up and ask for hospitality. I know a good farm nearby. Owner's a jousting fan; I can count on him for a good meal. They owe us one after this,” Darras said.
With the company dispersed either escorting prisoners or seeing to their own provisions, Darras led Tiberius and a Ranger lieutenant up to the O’Connell farm. Old man O’Connell greeted them warmly, and led them to a fine country dinner of ham steaks, grits, biscuits, apple butter, bacon flavored green beans, and warm apple pie. Darras regaled the family with the story of the recent raid. At the end of dinner, though, one of the hands came in and said something to O’Connell which seemed to perturb him. He turned to Tiberius.
“You’re some sort of wizard, you say? Good. Maybe you can give me a hand with this.”
“What seems to be the trouble?” Tiberius asked.
“We’ve got a cow that isn’t quite right.”
“A cow?”
“I’m sure he’ll do what he can. Always want to help folks, don’t you magi?” Darras chimed in.
“Well, yes, but I don’t know a lot about cows,” Tiberius protested.
“This way then,” the farmer said, leading them to the barn. Tiberius was not surprised to find it filled with cows and pigs. It was a prosperous farm in spite of the occasional raids. This was good country. One of the cows did seem a bit listless, though. O’Connell led him over to it, as Darras stood by watching the events.
O’Connell indicated the cow and Tiberius stared at it.
“What’s wrong with it?” he asked.
“That’s for you to tell me, isn’t it?” O’Connell said.
“What makes you think there is anything wrong with it?” Tiberius replied.
“I thought that would be obvious,” the farmer said suspiciously. “Don’t you wizards know when folks are with child.”
“It’s a pregnant cow?” Tiberius asked.
“Don’t you know?” the farmer said with deep suspicion.
“Look, I haven’t done any magic yet. I can learn things by magic but it’s easier if you just tell me. I’d rather save my magic for fixing what’s wrong. Honestly I don’t know much about cows. I’m a city boy.”
“It’s i
n labor, but nothing’s coming out,” Darras offered.
“You’re a cow expert?” Tiberius asked over his shoulder.
“I grew up on the Walker Family Vineyards. Mostly we grow grapes, but we have a few cows about for fresh milk.”
“If there’s nought you can do…” the farmer said, looking despondent.
“Did you call the vet?” Tiberius asked.
“He’ll come round when he can, but I reckon the knacker will be round first,” the farmer said.
Tiberius turned to Darras for a translation.
“The cow will be dead by the time the vet gets here. The knacker salvages dead animals.”
“Oh,” Tiberius said.
“You don’t just know combat spells, do you?” Darras asked.
“No. But I’m not a veterinarian either,” Tiberius said walking around the cow.
“I hear you patch up the boys when they get hurt,” Darras said.
“That’s just first aid; I’m not a doctor either.”
“Why don’t you try some first aid on the cow then,” Darras said smiling.
Tiberius turned back to the farmer. “I can’t promise anything. I honestly don’t know what will happen if I use some of this magic on a cow, but I’ll try.”
“Just do your best then. No one expects more from you than that,” said the old man.
“I’ll try a spell Messura taught me. It will let me see if there are broken bones or anything,” Tiberius said. “Ouch.”
“Now what?” Darras asked.
“This bloody cow just stepped on my foot,” Tiberius said.
Darras laughed. “Could be worse, she might have kicked you.”
“I wish she had; that would have triggered my defensive spells.” Taking a deep breath he said, “Dallen never said anything about doing this.”
Tiberius cast the spell, gesturing over the cow. “Montras min kio estas malĝuste. Montras min kio estas interne.” Messura had such a drawn-out style for things. Still he was efficient. He was hearing something now. Hmm one, two, … three heartbeats? “I think it’s twins,” he said.
“Twins?” You sure about that, lad?” the farmer asked.
“No, I am not sure of anything I’m doing right now.” Images were forming now. He could, by concentrating, see into the cow, but it was difficult. “Hmm, looks like the umbilical cord wrapped around the wrong way. This calf is all twisted. Let me try a bit of telekinesis. Might help.”
For the next few moments, Tiberius was locked in concentration. Fine manipulation inside another body was not easy, especially when he was ‘seeing’ by means of another spell. There had to be an easier way of doing this … but … there! A moment later the cow was starting delivery. Nature took its course and a few minutes later two perfectly healthy calves were brought into the world. Not before Tiberius got covered in cow blood, though.
Darras came over to help with delivery. The farmer proudly cradled one of the calves. “Twins! Well I’ll be. Just like you said and both as healthy as horses. You’re a right fine wizard at that, Mr. Tiberius.”
“Thanks,” he said, trying to wash himself in the bucket of ice cold water that the farmer had thoughtfully provided. He gave up after a minute and cast a cleansing spell on himself. Rolling his sleeves back down he said, “I’ve got to get a book on veterinary medicine; no one warned me that this was part of the job.”
“Maybe not, but at least now I know you are good for something,” Darras said, laughing.
∴
The patrols continued. Word was getting about and the roads were starting to clear. They’d had a couple of successful patrols to the north and east.
As fall came, Lord Brandon called another council of war. Lord Brandon had a map out and laid out his plan. “Darras, I want you to check the northeast farms again. I think most of the raiders have got the message but we’ll need to keep a presence there as the harvest comes in. El Gato, you can take the coast road again.”
“What about the southeast road to Sherwood City? When do we tackle that?” Tiberius asked.
Lord Brandon frowned. “I don’t know as we want to stir that up just now.”
“Why not?” Darras asked. “That should be our main inland road. How long are we going to let it sit in the hands of highwaymen?”
“Those men are better than what could be there,” Brandon said pragmatically.
“The only thing that should be there is a free and open road,” Tiberius said.
El Gato nodded agreement. “We’ve sent one message already. Let’s send another. Darras takes the farms. The magus and I can clear the road to Sherwood.
Lord Brandon wasn’t convinced. “If we do this, it will mean extra patrols for everyone. The goblins from the hills will have to be kept at bay.”
“We should form a third squadron,” Darras said. “We can fight with less than we’ve been taking out. You can give Hayes a brevet promotion.”
“We can get the Sherwood post to send some patrols north once the road is clear,” El Gato said.
“What about trying to recruit some of these highwaymen?” Tiberius suggested.
“That’s an excellent idea,” McNair said. “If we are serious at last about ending this blight on the landscape it seems the humane thing to do. I think some of these men could be saved if we could approach them.”
“I can’t recruit them directly into the Rangers,” Lord Brandon protested.
“They could be useful,” El Gato proposed. “They have knowledge of the region.”
“Maybe so, but I can’t take unproven men into an elite unit,” Lord Brandon said.
“What about as church guards?” Darras suggested. “We’re authorized a score or so of men for that.”
“Highwaymen as church guards?” Brandon wondered.
“I can think of no better use of the office than as a means of redemption,” McNair said.
“Will they go for it though?” Brandon asked. “We’ve tried to talk to them before. They’ll run before they talk.”
“Leave that to me. I can get us close to their leader,” Tiberius said.
Lord Brandon gave it a long moments thought. “We’ll try it,” he said at last. “By God, I’m tired of sitting back on my heels. It’s time we really went on the offensive. Just don’t get carried away and go charging into the Black Hills.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” El Gato said.
“What’s in the hills?” Tiberius asked.
“There are caves there with goblins. At least one goblin witch queen too,” El Gato explained.
“All the dark folk pay tribute there one way or another.” Darras said.
“She’ll have to be dealt with too,” Tiberius said aloud.
“Not on this patrol. One thing at a time, mage. Let’s deal with the highwaymen for now. When they’re no more you can bet we will be dealing with the queen’s minions.”
The first stop was back at Henry’s Tavern, always the first stop on the road to Sherwood. Starting at dawn with fresh horses, one could make Henry’s by lunchtime, though it was a day’s ride for most of the caravans.
Tiberius and El Gato walked into the tavern together, with a few Rangers beside them.
Henry came over and greeted them.
“Hello again, Mr. Tiberius, Captain Gato. What can I get for you gentlemen today? I see you’ve joined with the Rangers proper, Mr. Tiberius.”
“We’ll take a bit of lunch, but first we want a word with one of your customers,” El Gato explained.
Tiberius pointed to a man sitting by a back table.
He tried to get up, but saw a Ranger had come in from the back door too.
“Ah, now, gentlemen, no need for any fighting here,” Henry said.
“No indeed,” Tiberius answered. “This gentleman will come along quietly. He’s going to tell us where the highwaymen are, too.”
“You’re daft; I never heard of no highwaymen. I ain’t telling you nothing neither.”
“You already have,” Tiberius
said. “They’re at the old mill creek; you know where that is?”
“I do,” Gato said.
The man leapt up. “What? How do you? I never said!” A Ranger bade him sit down.
“You didn’t need to,” Tiberius explained. “I took the liberty of reading your mind. Don’t worry, we’ll try not to hurt anyone. Did you say something about lunch, Henry?”
The next morning, the chief of the highwaymen walked nervously by the side of the road. The early morning mist was heavy and he felt it pressing down upon him.
“Slim, go see what’s up with Joe,” he said suddenly.
“Why? I don’t reckon he’s gone nowhere,” came the sullen reply.
“Go and do it, will you? Something doesn’t feel right.” Webly said, looking nervously out at the forest.
“It’s too early.” Slim sat down. “I’ll do it in a minute.”
He glared at Slim as he dropped down and was fast asleep in an instant. He shook his head. Wasn’t like Slim to be quite so lazy. The air was oppressive though. He walked over to kick Slim awake.
“Here, you, I said you’re to go and…”
He didn’t finish the sentence as two men suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gripped his arms, and threw him against a tree. A silver knife was at his throat. The highwayman chief looked up and recognized that queer traveler he’d seen a couple of months back.
“You owe me a hundred shillings,” he said.
The chief had been in tight spots before. He tried to stay calm. The other man looked like a Ranger captain. El Gato took a step back and leveled a rapier at his throat.
“A hundred shillings … I … I don’t quite see that governor. I gave you fair passage after all.” He felt the dagger tighten against his throat. “It might have been a might steep, now that you mention it…”
“I want your soul as change,” Tiberius said.
“My … my soul?”
Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) Page 25