Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius)

by Stuart, Richard J

  She let out a horrifying scream as she looked at herself. “Curse you, boy! My hands!” she cried.

  Maddened, she ran towards the fire. She somehow gestured to create a gap in the flames, but her feet were unsteady. The queen tripped and rolled down the grand steps, landing just at the bottom. Her minions surrounded her as she writhed and screamed and changed into dust before their eyes.

  From the top of the altar, Tiberius looked down upon the cavern filled with goblins. The witch was out of the picture, but the situation was now more desperate than ever. Hundreds, maybe thousands of goblins were gathered before him. One by one, they turned their eyes away from their fallen leader and towards him. He gripped his staff, wondering if he had the strength left to create another wall of fire. He had put a lot of energy into that last blast of lightning. It worked, but what did he have left? If they all charged him now he’d die. Under the best of conditions his shields couldn’t stand up to an army of goblins pounding on him. Now exhausted and spent from the battle, he would have little chance.

  Would another wall of flames stop them now? Before they’d been content to let their leader deal with him, but now they knew they’d have to come for him themselves. No doubt they were maddened by revenge and would pile whatever bodies were needed on any wall of flames to come after him. One of the larger goblins at the base of the crowd now looked up from the dead dust of their leader and met eyes with him.

  It was a huge goblin with a broad face and a mouth that shone with teeth of pure gold. Those teeth now spread in a huge, hideous grin. Tiberius took one step forward, still clutching his staff. The goblin, looking up at Tiberius, saw him standing over the body of their dead queen. He was a dark cloaked figure, silhouetted by fire on every side. His vapor shield gave him a faint circular glow around him.

  The large goblin raised a hand and gave a slight wave. He then started running in the opposite direction. Most of the rest of the goblins got the same idea, and immediately started running for their lives. They were headed any direction but towards him. One or two, either pushed by their companions, or possibly in some fit of bravery, did start up the stairs towards him. He met them with a blast of lightning. If any of the goblins had needed any extra incentive to run, that supplied it. The flight now became total panic. Goblins were now literally killing each other in their haste to get away from this powerful and unexpected wizard.

  Tiberius teleported to the back of the altar area, hoping that would confuse the goblins. The passage he had entered was now open again, the witch’s seal having vanished with her life. Tiberius desperately hoped no more magic would be needed. He’d done about as much as he could right now. It was all he could do to keep himself running down the darkened chambers. At least no goblins were coming this way.

  Towards the exit he had to stop. Goblins were there ahead of him, pouring out the gate. They did not see him, though, and they certainly were not looking for him. He leaned back against the cave walls. There was no sign of Darras or the kids. He could only hope they had gotten out safely.

  He waited for a while, then when the charging goblins had died down, he stumbled out of the caves. He felt sick and weak. Walking out into the night air felt better at least. That heat at the end had been a bit much. There was commotion all around. He almost got shot by his friends as Rangers and the yeoman archers were all about, hunting the goblins. Fortunately someone noticed he didn’t look like a goblin. Astonished Rangers came up and greeted him, leading him off the battlefield. They told him the situation. Darras had tried to turn back for him, but when he saw the way blocked he turned and decided to get the kids out and go for reinforcements. Just as he’d returned with the Rangers, goblins started pouring out of the caves in a panic. With no fight in them, it had become a shooting gallery. A full moon had broken out over the battlefield giving enough light for shooting. Both the Rangers and the local yeomen archers were having a field day shooting at panicked goblins. Darras had mounted and was riding down some of them.

  Tiberius was too tired for further fighting and his help was unnecessary. He went back to the camp and sat back against a bench, telling them to wake him if he was needed for healing. No one did, and he fell into a deep sleep.

  ∴

  A few days later Darras and Tiberius were back at Vonair. They’d had a busy couple of weeks, hunting down goblin stragglers and cleaning out the Black Hill caverns, but it had gone well. Goblins had not been eliminated, but their power was broken in the border country. The roads would be substantially safer from here on in. Lord Brandon had not been too happy at first on hearing of their expedition. However, when dispatches came in talking about a promotion for him, he decided to forgive them.

  Darras was seated across from him over breakfast reading an account of the battle that had been published in the capital’s newspaper.

  “This is absurd,” Darras protested, slamming the paper down on the table. “This makes it seem like I rescued all those children single handed. There’s practically nothing here about you.”

  Tiberius gave a slight shrug of the shoulders. “I worked in a print shop. I’ve seen lazy reporting before.”

  Darras gave him an incredulous stare. “We should do something to correct this injustice.”

  Tiberius concentrated on putting apple butter on another piece of toast. “Why? You need publicity and promotions, Darras, not me. What do I care if I don’t get proper credit for what I’m doing out here? I get a mention in the dispatches now and then. That’s enough to let the professionals know I’m contributing out here.”

  “It isn’t right,” Darras growled.

  “No, it isn’t. But it’s a fairly small injustice. We’ve got bigger things to worry about,” Tiberius replied.

  “You know, I still have questions about your methods, but I have to admit you get good results. If you’re some kind of double agent for Satan, he’s sure not getting his money’s worth,” Darras said, smiling.

  “I don’t mind people questioning my methods. I question them a lot myself. Maybe we can find a better way to stop these creatures some day. For now I’m going to keep fighting them the best way I know how,” Tiberius said. “How are the kids doing? Any word?”

  “Pretty good, all things considered,” Darras answered. “The baby is fine. We’ve got a couple of the boys we rescued working in the kitchens here as squires. I’ll see they make knights one day. They can take their own revenge on the goblins. Some we were able to reunite with relatives. We’ve sent to a couple to St. John's, as you suggested. Some of those kids were hurt pretty badly.”

  “The goblins weren’t keeping them as slaves for their health and benefit. Some of what I’ve heard of their treatment isn’t a fit subject to discuss over breakfast.”

  “Well don’t tell me about it now then. The goblins may be broken for a while, but they aren’t the only pests around here. I’m concerned about a series of deaths around some of the villages. Men and women killed by arrows. Good shots, too.”

  “Precision archery? That doesn’t sound like goblin work.” Tiberius pondered.

  “No. That’s what worries me.”

  “I’ll look into it.”

  Chapter XII

  Dealings With Elves

  It was becoming an eventful spring. News of one event fell quick upon the next in turn. The goblin queen was dead, and the main burrow in the Black Hills abandoned. The dwarf king had finally passed on, with Prince Essenhart named Crown Prince. Also, he had won his first victory against the goblins to the south. Sightings of elves, trolls, and other fairy folk were up as well. It seemed the whole fairy world was in turmoil this spring.

  Darras and Tiberius had been sent to investigate the mysterious deaths near the town of Malory. They wondered if it had something to do with the ruins across the river. Those were on the elves’ side of the border and had never been explored.

  The Rangers were walking their horses down the country road when all of a sudden, Tiberius stopped and looked to the right. Darra
s had no idea what he was looking at, but by now he knew to trust the scout’s instincts. He waved for the company to come to a halt.

  “Hail, and well met, Lord Gillyian,” Tiberius waved.

  A moment later Darras was startled to see a small troop of horsemen step out of nowhere. Elves.

  “Well met indeed,” Lord Gillyian cheerfully called back.

  “What brings you to our forests? You’re off your way, I think; the taverns lie to the north and could do with your patronage,” Tiberius chided.

  “La, but you know we prefer to sleep under the stars,” he laughed, drawing closer. “We hear you’ve turned out the goblin warrens to the east. They scramble across the river as fast as they dare. M’lady bade me go hunting, lest the Rangers embarrass us by doing all the good work of killing the foul creatures. I prefer to kill them on your side of the river, lest any of their foul footprints should disturb M’lady’s gardens.”

  “You disappoint us, Lord Gillyian,” Darras said. “We would have hoped a squad of Alfaran hunters would have stopped by the castle first. There you should have been most welcome. We might have set you on the right roads to improve your hunting.”

  Gillyian smiled at the veiled jibe. “You know my people hunt where they’ve a mind to. I believe even our ancient treaties give us that right. But, as you say, friends should avail themselves of offered hospitality. I must indeed come to your courts more often. Come dine with us and we shall all be friends.”

  The elves led them to a clearing, and Gillyian’s troop began to make ready a camp. Gillyian left the work to others, Tiberius noted. He wondered exactly what rank “Lord” Gillyian was. Salina was always very coy in her letters when discussing any sort of political status of anyone. She’d never even explained why she wasn’t welcome at court. Ti had never pressed the issue. Gillyian seemed to be a person of some importance. Salina had hinted he was some sort of cousin of the royal family and that he worked as a King’s messenger at times. He was a flashy dresser, even for an elf. That never seemed to deter him from getting his hands dirty, though, when the occasion called.

  Gillyian asked for news of the goblin raid. Darras and Tiberius gave him a first hand account.

  “And how is Salina? I seem to see less of her than ever now that I live closer to her.”

  “You are never far away from her heart, my friend. But she has her duties, as do you. She knows the days will be long before she can spend the time with you that she would.”

  “Yes, she tells me to seek companions among my own kind and then berates me for doing so.”

  “Well, a seer sees things unbidden at times.” Gillyian smiled. “And a common actress? Unworthy of you, my friend.”

  “You didn’t see her,” Darras smiled.

  “I just took her dancing one time. For heaven's sake,” Tiberius said, blushing as the others laughed at his expense.

  Later in the meal, Tiberius went to his saddle bags and brought out an arrow.

  “What do you make of this?” He asked.

  Gillyian took the arrow, jovially at first. “Ah, more of my kinsmen poaching your deer I expec…” He broke off his flippant response in mid-word, then suddenly uttered an oath and began to examine the arrow more closely.

  “Where did you find this?” He asked.

  “We took it from the body of a farmer’s wife,” Darras said soberly.

  “This is a traitor’s arrow,” Gillyian said grimly. “My King will hear of this. We had thought this plague expunged from the hearts of our people. It seems evil still takes root in all places.”

  “Can you tell us anything that will help us find who did this?” Darras asked.

  “I do not socialize with traitors,” Gillyian replied. “Always there have been some of my people who do not make the Great Father first in their hearts. The worst of these are called the Redcaps. They hunt humans for sport and dip their caps in the blood of their victims.”

  “Do you have any idea who they would be most likely to hunt?” Tiberius asked.

  “Those who give offense. But what offenses, that I cannot say. It could be for merely trampling a daisy, or making a bad pie. Once hatred grips the heart, justifications will follow. May I take this arrow with me? My people will work to put a stop to this,” Gillyian said.

  “Please,” Darras answered.

  “No more thoughts of this tonight. We will be vigilant from now on, but tonight we fight this evil by renewing our friendship. So tell me more of this actress who has enchanted you, Magus.”

  They spent the evening with small talk and songs. The next morning the elves were gone. Darras had a mind to follow them inland to look for more goblins, but Tiberius suggested another plan.

  “I think we should sweep along the western river. If Redcaps are about, they aren’t likely living in these forests. I’d think they would slip across the river now and then.”

  “You might be right. We might find some goblins trying to get away too. Not to mention we can dine in a proper tavern for a change.”

  They swung south, heading to the town of Bristol Springs. There they went to the common rooms to hear the local news. Goblins had been spotted fleeing across the river and they would alert the Rangers if they saw any more. But Tiberius heard another rumor.

  “Did you hear about Mr. Tiverton?” he asked.

  “No. Who’s he?” Darras replied.

  “A miller and an entrepreneur. I hear he wants to build a sawmill between here and Vonair. A big machine where the elves would most likely see it. Strikes me as the sort of person who could get on an elf’s nerves,” Tiberius replied.

  “How sure are you of this?” Darras pondered.

  “Not sure at all. But it’s the best I’ve heard so far. I think it’s worth a look at least.”

  Darras took another sip of wine. “All right, we’ll go look.”

  Next morning Tiberius and Darras led a squadron of Rangers along the western shore of the river, asking after Mr. Tiverton. They were told he had been seen riding along the shore looking for a suitable site for his new mill.

  It was nearing noon when they saw the horse, a plain riding horse with a saddle and no rider. Darras easily retrieved the horse, but Tiberius told him to let it go.

  “Montras min kie estas via mastro!” Tiberius commanded of the horse. With a whinny, the horse started galloping off. Tiberius, Darras and the others were hard pressed to follow, but it was only about a mile down the coast road when the horse came to a halt.

  Darras reached the body first. Leaping down off the horse, he briefly examined the body.

  “We’re too late. He died instantly,” he said.

  Tiberius was not looking, he was glancing around the nearby hills and woods. The coast road was mostly farms and vineyards, but occasional woods broke up the landscape. Tiberius was glancing towards one of them.

  “You don’t think he’s still here do you? He’s back across the river by now,” Darras said.

  “That would have been the smart thing to do,” Tiberius answered. “Or at least it's what we’d expect.”

  “Montras min kio estas kaŝita,” he said suddenly. In response he saw a bush start to glow off in the distance.

  “He’s still here; come on!” Tiberius said, riding towards the woods.

  Tiberius got ahead of everyone, charging off unexpectedly. Darras was barely able to swing up on Smoke and head after him.

  Approaching the bush, Tiberius was not at all surprised to see an arrow flying towards him. He ducked down and let it fly over his head. The next shot aimed lower, but Tiberius vanished from the horse.

  The elf stepped out from the tree to get a better shot, but stopped, puzzled by the absence of the man on the horse. Only when his bow was ripped out of his hands by Tiberius’ staff did he realize the trick. He rolled away from his attacker and drew a long knife.

  The elf was dressed simply for his kind. He wore plain brown leathers covered with patterns of leaves. His only ornament was a dark red cap he wore.

&n
bsp; “Kineta frapu!” Tiberius said with a fist-like gesture. The elf slammed back into a tree. The elf grimaced, but kept his head. He spoke something in an unknown tongue and Tiberius felt the grass beneath him try to snare his feet. He teleported aside. The elf turned to face his new position, but Darras now arrived behind him, grabbed his arm and slammed the elf into the tree in the more ordinary fashion, causing the elf to drop the knife.

  A moment later there were a dozen Rangers surrounding the elf. He might yet have tried some trick to escape but he saw the little red glowing butterflies that Tiberius had created flying about him still. He knew he was caught.

  Darras tore the cap off his head. It was still damp and sticky and smelled of blood. Fire flashed in his eyes.

  "What's this?" Darras said holding the cap in the man's face.

  "It's the blood of animals," the renegade elf replied haughtily.

  Darras moved to strike him, but checked himself. "The animals will give you a trial first before we hang you," he said.

  "I expected no less," the elf replied.

  “Bind him with these,” Tiberius said, holding forth a pair of cold iron handcuffs.

  “You’re cunning for an animal,” the elf said.

  “Never underestimate any of God’s creatures. I’d think a forest lord would know that,” Tiberius replied.

  ∴

  By the end of the day they were leading him up to the Lord’s seat in Castle Vonair. Darras stepped up and presented the prisoner.

  “We believe this man guilty of cold blooded murder of the Queen’s subjects,” he said, handing Lord Brandon a list of the charges.

  Lord Brandon gave the paper a glance and then turned to the elf.

  “These are serious charges against you. Have you anything to say in your defense? You need not speak now. This is a preliminary hearing. You are entitled to council, and as you are not one of the Queen’s subjects we will be happy to notify an ambassador of your own people if you so request.”

  “I don’t speak with animals,” was the terse reply.