Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius)

by Stuart, Richard J

  “What wizard?” the director asked Leonardo

  “Don’t you ever listen to the news?” Leonardo asked.

  “I believe I’ve been mentioned in passing in some of the dispatches,” Tiberius answered. “I don’t know what you’ve heard. The papers tend to exaggerate. I do think it fair to say I’ve caused the goblins some minor inconvenience.”

  “What exactly did you want with us?” asked the director.

  “You know, I couldn’t help noticing that your esteemed company seems to be getting a bit lost in the crowd here in Walsingham. I think that’s a shame, for there’s surely no finer company of players about. I was wondering if you’ve ever thought of traveling up to Vonair?”

  The director couldn’t repress a slight shudder. “Ah … well. To tell you the truth, no. With no disrespect to the Rangers, the roads haven’t exactly been safe lately and Vonair being a small town, it didn’t seem a good prospect, financially speaking.”

  “I understand your attitude, but I wonder if I couldn’t persuade you to reconsider? The roads are much safer these days and I’m sure Lord Brandon would be happy to provide an escort to ensure your safety. It’s true it’s a small town but there are a lot of soldiers there with a fair amount of money these days. They could use something a little more wholesome to spend their cash on than drink.”

  “He’s got a point there,” Leonardo offered. “I hear things are changing beyond the borders. Lots of prize money flying about, and a bunch of bored soldiers. Could be good pickings for us.”

  The director stroked his chin thoughtfully. “The money’s no good if we aren’t alive to spend it.”

  “I’d rather get killed than starve,” offered Cobweb.

  “You might not say that if you’ve seen a goblin. Like as not they won’t be so quick to kill a young pretty girl. There’s worse things that can happen to you than death,” Marissa said, warningly.

  “I understand your concerns about safety,” Tiberius answered. “But you will be given a full escort. You can take the river to Vonair if you prefer.”

  “Well it’s an interesting offer, M’lord, but travel’s expensive at the best of times and I don’t know that it would really be worth…”

  “Yes, you’d need some start-up funds, naturally. I thought you might accept a small donation of say, 200 gold crowns, provided you agree to come to Vonair. I could give you half now.”

  “Two hundred crowns?!” Marissa said, astonished.

  “You’d make more than that in Vonair, naturally, being the only proper company on the river.”

  “Right, when do we pack?” asked Leonardo.

  “Here, now, who’s the chief here?” The director looked about for a moment, but he knew it was hopeless.

  “Right, when did you say that escort would be ready?”

  Back at Vonair, one of the pages put a flyer on the bulletin board a few days later. Captain Walker stopped to stare at it.

  “What’s this? Players coming to Vonair? Who’s idea was this?”

  “Whom do you think, but our resident scholar?” El Gato offered.

  Darras raised an eyebrow towards Tiberius, who answered sheepishly.

  “Yes, well, I thought a bit of culture wouldn’t hurt any of us, and as I’ve been doing rather well in prize money it seemed only proper to do something to give back to the community.”

  “I see. About time someone thought to bring some entertainment in around here. I trust you’ll let me contribute to the culture fund.”

  “With all my heart,” Tiberius answered as he accepted Darras’ purse.

  “Good, that’s settled. You’ve seen them, I gather. Since we sent you to pick them out I suppose they can act. Are the girls pretty?” Darras asked.

  “Well, they’re a young enthusiastic cast,” Tiberius answered with uncharacteristic hesitation. “The sort of troop we need up here is young and spirited, not old famous actors.”

  “I think that means yes,” said El Gato.

  “I do believe you are right, Captain. You know, I think we may have found a chink in our young scholar’s armor after all. Always the quiet ones. You turn your back on them for a moment and the next thing you know they’re importing a troop of beautiful women.”

  “Now really, you don’t think I’m doing…” Tiberius said defensively.

  “You admit they are pretty though?” Captain Walker said.

  “Well, yes, they’re actresses, naturally they have a good appearance,” Tiberius replied.

  “And you’re not the least bit interested in any of them?” El Gato chided.

  “Does that matter?” Tiberius replied. “I admit some of them are very charming young ladies, but they aren’t interested in me.”

  “I don’t know about that,” El Gato said. “I’d be careful, Scholar, if I were you. Some of them might think a brave and rich wizard might be a suitable meal ticket. I wonder what that mysterious Salina person will say about you hanging about with young actresses anyway.”

  “What’s it to her?” Tiberius said. “If she wants more attention she could show up. Why shouldn’t I court other women? She’s made it clear she has no serious intentions for me. I wonder if elves are ever serious about anything.”

  Lord Brandon came up at that moment. “Ah, yes, speaking of elves, do you know what Lord Gillyian’s on about? I just got a note requesting an audience and he says he’s coming by ship.”

  “By ship? That’s not like him,” Tiberius answered.

  “No, and he won’t say what its all about. Just that he’ll be here in a month.” Lord Brandon said. “Well, you’d better go and escort those actors here. Strange, we’ve never had so many volunteers for escort duty before. Wonder why. Try to keep your eyes open. I’d take married men for this mission if I were you. Try to get back here before Gillyian arrives.”

  The next weekend was a busy one. The players arrived and received a good reception from the townsfolk. The next day Gillyian's ship was spotted and Tiberius and Lord Brandon turned out for a formal reception. Everyone had their dress uniforms on and the hall glittered with shining silver armor and the green and black banners of the Rangers. Lord Gillyian was dressed in his finest, in turn. The forest lord walked in and gave a deep bow, which Lord Brandon returned.

  “Well, Lord Gillyian, to what do we owe this pleasure?” he asked.

  “I’m here on a matter of cultural urgency, Lord Brandon.”

  “Cultural urgency?” Lord Brandon asked. “Funny, we were just talking about improving the culture around here. What did you have in mind?”

  “You will recall that these lands you now occupy are only given to the Stewardship provided certain conditions are met. One of these is that this castle will be kept in good order and that any significant changes to the castle or the town will not be undertaken without prior approval of the elves.”

  “Yes, of course. As you can see nothings changed,” Lord Brandon said somewhat flustered. The provisions of the treaty were well known and his career would be over if the he lost the territory to them over some breach of etiquette. Lord Gillyian didn’t seem upset, more amused. What was he missing, the lord wondered.

  “That is precisely the problem. How do you account for the appalling state of the furniture in this building? Specifically I refer to the desecration of the great tower with a bunch of match sticks you laughingly refer to as furniture?”

  “Are you saying you want to start some sort of international incident because you don’t like the furniture here?” Lord Brandon asked.

  “It’s a matter of art, Lord, something we take seriously. We feel that immediate action is called for. We knew that as soon as we were alerted to the situation by your sage councilor here,” Gillyian said looking at Tiberius, who cringed in turn.

  “What exactly did you tell them?” Lord Brandon said, glaring at Tiberius.

  “I … well, I just casually asked an elf friend of mine if she knew where I could buy some furniture. Elves are renowned for their woodcraft after a
ll. It seemed like a logical question.”

  “A rather foolish one,” Gillyian said. “Do you know what you are asking?”

  “Apparently not,” Tiberius answered.

  “You speak to my people of a simple need at a time when each day you risk life and limb to drive the darkness from our doorstep. Were we to accept payment in exchange for answering such a simple need, the dwarves and dragons would forever laugh at our greed,” Lord Gillyian answered.

  “Ah, well, I see your point. But it wasn’t a crazy request. The worker is worthy of his pay,” Tiberius countered.

  “While that may be true, there is an additional matter of honor to consider,” Gillyian explained. “The two great towers here were constructed by my people and are considered a local wonder. What will visitors say when they see these buildings furnished with rustic items made by fishermen in their spare time? They will think the lords of the forest have no woodcraft. The situation is intolerable.”

  “I’m most grateful you have called this difficulty to my attention, Lord Gillyian,” Lord Brandon said, gingerly. This was one of the elves’ jokes, apparently, but he did tread cautiously whenever the elves were concerned. If angered, they had the power to destroy cities, and it didn’t do to forget it. “What do you propose as a solution to this dilemma?”

  “I propose, Lord, that you and your sage accept these gifts of wood art from my lady and my people as a sign of goodwill between our people. By happy chance, being once in possession of this fortress, our craftsmen well know the dimensions of these halls and were able to construct some minor works of craftsmanship more befitting to these halls.”

  “That seems a most proper and reasonable suggestion, Lord Gillyian,” Lord Brandon said with a glance at Tiberius. “I accept with all my heart.”

  “I should not like to think that our friends will be inconvenienced by the lack of ballast for their ship on their return voyage, however,” Tiberius interposed. “As a gift in turn among friends, I think we might offer some first fruits of our local harvest so as to make it a pleasant voyage home for our companions. I’ve one or two small curios we’ve recently liberated from the caves of the ogres that your lady might find amusing that I shall include as well.”

  “That seems only fitting hospitality for our honored guests,” Lord Brandon noted.

  “I’ve just had a few cases of wine from my family vineyards delivered,” Captain Walker noted. “I trust our friends would accept a few bottles as a mark of our hospitality.”

  “From the Walker Family Vineyards?” Gillyian’s eyes lit up. “Now, that would be most welcome. I do hope I remember to properly record that on our ship's records. I’m very careless about such things.”

  “You’ll share a glass with us this evening over supper? We’ve just imported the first players in many a year into the town; I think you might enjoy their performance.”

  “Culture besieges Vonair from every side,” Gillyian smiled. “We should be glad of some entertainment.”

  Tiberius watched as the elves got to work. Their craftsmen knew their business and in a few hours they managed to change his spartan living quarters into a place of beauty more befitting the abode of a wizard. They’d brought bookcases, a bed, and a few chairs, but also a screen and a washbasin. Everything was beautifully crafted and engraved with a forest motif. They brought a few shade plants, too, which they assured him would thrive in the confines of his study. Mrs. Sutherland would have some work watering the plants, but she seemed pleased to see the change in the room. The screen helped break up the large circular room into dressing room and a study.

  Ti’s room received particular attention, but the elves had brought some other gifts: beds for the lord of the manor and the captains, and a new table and throne for the Great Hall.

  The players gave good entertainment at the dinner. It was quite a turn in their fortunes to go from obscurity in Walsingham to a command performance before an elf ambassador in Vonair.

  “They say you’re dating one of them,” Lord Gillyian laughed. “Tell me which one so I can describe her to Salina,” he joked.

  ”I hope she’s not going too be jealous of these actresses. Everyone seems to think I’m having some sort of torrid affair with them.”

  “She better understands your need of good company than you,” Gillyian answered more seriously. “She knows she has only stolen moments with you. I think she wishes you to have better friends among the Sons of Adam.”

  “I don’t understand her,” Tiberius said. “You’d think she would have come for this.”

  “She cannot come. The countess forbids it.”

  “I’m beginning to not like this countess of yours.”

  “I think our Lady Salina is not to fond of her either. But the countess is a great lady among our people. She is not capricious or cruel. Salina can touch your heart. But for her to come to your home and hearth, this is what cannot be.”

  “Well, why not? Can’t someone at least tell me that? What is she doing anyway?”

  “It is not my place to say. You will know soon enough; she has foreseen this. You must be content with her friendship for now.”

  “It would be nice if some women would express a desire for a bit more than friendship,” Tiberius grumbled. “But maybe that is just not meant to be for me. I have my own duties after all. The dragon is still out there. As she said, there are many others.”

  Chapter X

  The Battle of Lychester

  The goblin queen opened the note, gave it a quick read, then tossed it in disgust over her shoulder. Her assassins had failed. All of them failed, and failed miserably. Her face became even uglier than usual as she scowled, thinking about the current situation. Dallen’s little pup was becoming a real pain in the rear end. The loss of revenue was bad enough, but that wasn’t the real problem. Tiberius was making her look bad in front of her subjects. Given enough time, she’d be able to deal with Tiberius. He’d been lucky so far, but sooner or later his luck would run out and she’d have an opportunity to kill him. If she couldn’t find a way to buy some time she’d never get that chance.

  Still frowning, she glanced over towards her scrying crystal. There had been too many failures. Already some blowhard was talking about the need for new leadership. Soon they would try to kill her and put someone else in her place. If enough of them tried, one of them might get lucky. Well, she hadn’t become a goblin queen by being careless or lazy. With a gesture she shut down the vision from the crystal. She took up her staff, stormed out of her quarters and strode towards the great chamber. It was time to take action.

  The queen still knew how to make an entrance. The great cavern of the goblins was raised at one end with a large platform. There was a steep slope down and then there was the assembly area. The queen entered through the secret door in the back and walked up to the platform. The fire pots lining the way up to the top of the platform burst alight as she stepped to the center of the stage. Standing high on the platform silhouetted by the fires, she made an impressive sight.

  “What is all this noise?” she said, raising her voice and looking down on a large number of goblins surprised by her appearance at their impromptu assembly.

  A particularly large and menacing goblin had stepped to the forefront, egged on by his supporters behind him.

  “Harvest time is here, and what do we have to show for it? Where is our tribute? Why aren’t our larders laden with beer and beef? I see a bunch of fat farmers and lean hungry goblins. It’s all because you’ve failed to kill their wizard! If you can’t lead us to victory, maybe it’s time for someone else to lead!” the goblin said.

  “And who would that be, you? The withering curse be upon you! Eb desruca!”

  The huge goblin suddenly screamed, then dropped to his knees in agony. As the other goblins watched in horror, his face aged before their eyes. Wrinkles lined his face and his thick black hair changed to grey. Every joint in his body suddenly was on fire with intense arthritic pain.

 
She stepped out among them, shouting angrily and driving them all back with the force of her eyes and the threat of her staff. “I should curse all you miserable, lazy cowards. You seem to forget who filled up your larders with beer and beef in the first place! It’s my magic that’s made us what we are today. It’s my magic that rescued your pathetic little souls out of Hell and into these nice strong bodies. Bodies we can use to enjoy the many pleasures of the flesh once more. I perform the dark rituals and steal the bodies of the mortal babes, apparently just so I can be surrounded by lazy clods! You want the Rangers dead, go and kill them yourselves! They aren’t all wizards!”

  She took a moment to glare at the crowd before continuing. “Do you think I’ve been idle? Haven’t I spent the whole year trying to kill that accursed wizard? Who’s been giving you the cursed arrows? Who’s been giving you subtle poisons to steal the life from his breath? Who hired the finest assassins in the world to drive one of their blades into his breast? I’m the only one doing anything about this cursed man, and you’ve got the temerity to come here and say I’m not doing enough?” she shouted.

  She drew out a wicked looking dagger. “Maybe you think your queen’s lost her touch? Her poisons don’t work?”

  The goblins scattered before her but she grabbed one at random anyway and gave him a light cut with the knife. It was just a scratch, but all the same he gave a gurgle of agony and then fell over shivering. He was dead a moment later.

  “There! Ask him if my poisons work!” she said, kicking the lifeless body aside.

  The goblins all stepped back and cowered from her in fear. She looked over them, snarling.

  “Well, something needs to be done all right. But don’t come here sniveling and saying it’s all the queen’s fault that we have tough enemies. It’s you lot that needs to get to work. Any of you want to go and challenge Tiberius to a duel? Be my guest. No? Then shut up and listen.”

  There was a moment of silence in the chamber.

  “That’s better. Now listen and listen carefully. I’ve had enough of this too. We’re not sitting around waiting for the Rangers to pick us off one at a time any more. Send out the word. Gather all the goblins on this side of the river. Get as many as you can from wherever you can. Find the bogies; tell their chiefs the queen summons them to a council of war. Send word to the spiders in the deep forests. Gather whatever trolls, ogres, and giants you can. We’re going to attack and attack in force. I think we’ve proven subtlety is no way to deal with this wizard. We’ll see if he can withstand all of us acting together."